Dispatches from the Head

There is something in the air here.



Hey, all-

Thanks for all the amazing feedback on the Todd Hanson episode. I am glad it had such a profound effect on so many people. I have forwarded many of the emails to Todd so that he can feel the gratitude so many of you felt when hearing his story. I am really moved that the talk we had seemed to provide so much clarity and hope for so many people battling with depression and anxiety in their lives.

I have been in Cupertino for four days. I am staying literally across the street from the main Apple headquarters. For some reason my Blackberry keeps dropping calls. I don’t want to assume anything, but there is something in the air here. I believe they are invisible Apple data assassins killing my conversations in midair.

I visited the Google campus, and aside from it seeming like a borderline cult, I actually saw nobody working. There was a lot of eating going on. There is food everywhere there, and free food at that. They have laundry facilities, gyms, coffee stands, food trucks, volleyball, vegetable gardens, sculptures, dinosaur bones, a doctor’s office, and meditation rooms. I don’t know why anyone would want to ever leave. Maybe I am lucky I got out. Maybe that’s the idea. You hang out for a few hours, eat, sit, and once you hit the three hour mark, you automatically work there. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I saw myself walking down hallways and every so often a panicky nerd would rush out of an office screaming, “Someone just searched Parrot, Cowboy Boot, Lubricant. I have not idea where to send them. Little help. Looking for a link!” I have other ideas about the place I will share on the show later this week.

I took a trip into San Francisco and hung out with my buddy, Jack Boulware. We smoked cigars, walked, talked, had some Philz coffee, ate Burmese food and went to Green Apple books. Sometimes I forget how much I love old school, big, independently owned bookstores with huge used book sections, never-ending shelves, the musty smell of browning paper, and decades of sweaty hands permeating the air. I of course left with a book called "The Birth and Death of Meaning: An Interdisciplinary Perspective on the Problem of Man" by Ernest Becker. How could I not buy that book? All the answers have to be in there; and it's pre-owned and underlined, so I will get to know a ghost and see if I agree with their idea of significance. Just flipping to a page, I see this sentence underlined: “The self is not physical, it is symbolic.” Fuck. That is exactly how I feel about whoever owned this book before me and dragged that pen under those words. Maybe it's how I feel about me. I have to think about it. I might be done reading. Thank you, strange spirit, for leaving your markings.

On Monday, we have a Live WTF from the Bell House in Brooklyn, featuring Jonathan Katz, Judy Gold, Will Arnett, Keith Robinson, Marina Franklin, and a surprise drop-in by Jon Benjamin. On Thursday, Paul Reiser hangs out in the garage. It gets a little uncomfortable but mostly all good.

Take care of yourselves if you can.

Love,
Maron


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