Things of Interest: The Idiocy Issue

Somefing's not right here. Lightin' a fire under your ass now.
Start makin' somefing happen.

In 1993, I pitched an article for the first time to a "real" publication. I don't remember what the pitch was, but the publication was Mademoiselle (one more thing you've got on me, haters). 

My pitch was rejected. I indulged the writer's cliché and push-pinned the rejection letter to my bedroom wall — masochistic motivation I thought would somehow elevate me to elusively erudite heights (and perhaps liberate me from a lifetime of lame alliteration). I would amass a huge, EPIC collection of rejection letters. I would shroud myself in their snubs, revel in their rebuffs. I would take all the kicks in the teeth like a (Gid)man.

I didn't pitch or submit anything anywhere ever again until 2013. 

It doesn't really matter why this happened. It happened. It's being remedied now. Partly thanks to the inspiration of this guy, a fellow Ukrainian who hammers nails into wood with his bare hands:

But mostly by just writing stuff and submitting it places. I had my first article published on Salon.com last month, after eight months of "practice" on this blog. I would like to keep doing more of that. If not, I will become the Harper Lee of preachy, meaningless, highly entertaining essays that will change your life if you'll just please read them. If that recluse thing does happen — and if you're nice — I'll grant you an interview in 2053 and reveal why I crapped out so fantastically again. Only to you, though. And only if you print out and present this blog post. Like a coupon.

Even though I'll be concentrating most of my efforts on forcing my ruminations onto the masses, I'd still like to keep the blogging front sufficiently fortified. So from now on (meaning when I feel like it) there will be a weekly "Things of Interest" post. There are lots of interesting things out there. You'll either be interested or you won't. Like dating.

It helped that I recently watched Orange Is the New Black on Netflix for two weeks straight — my basic obsessive M.O. for Shows I Hear Good Things About. For 13 nights in a row, I was bombarded by Regina Spektor lecturing in the opening credits that "taking steps is easy — standing still is hard." Hear it for yourself for self-help reinforcement:

I've got a babushka, and it's tied on TIGHT. It's keeping my head together, no matter how many staggering, stumbling steps I take.

THINGS OF INTEREST (for real now)

This week's theme: idiocy
I've watched a few idiotic things lately, some quite literally. First up: My Idiot Brother, which was dopey and goofy and had so many plot holes and unsympathetic characters that I don't understand why I actually really liked it. It's one of those movies I would watch again, but I have absolutely zero justification to recommend it to anyone else. Paul Rudd movies always seem to have a good heart behind them, is all I can say.

Thanks to the nefariousness of Netflix, I've also been suckered into the BBC series Luther, which is probably the most absurd crime show (or show) I've ever seen. The villains are over-the-top evil (AND insane!), the scenarios are preposterous, and the title character — portrayed in all his eye-twitching glory by Idris Elba of The Wire and The Office — boasts the intelligence, instincts, and invincibility of an impossible law-enforcement superhero. 

I wish I could say all the F-bombs I spewed at my TV after the first episode precluded me from watching again — but Elba is magnificent, as is his supporting crew, especially Ruth Wilson as adversary/soulmate Alice Morgan (a fun recent interview with Wilson in Vulture appears here). The theme song is excellent, too:

I smoothed out all of this recent ridiculousness with a viewing of Searching for Sugar Man, which was idiotic only in the sense that I hadn't seen it earlier. It's also been a few years since I've seen Idiocracy — probably time for a rewatch. 

Related: how your movie-appreciation skills start to suck (or get better) after becoming a parent
Jason McBride's article about how his previously "infallible" cinematic judgment went south after the birth of his son was an interesting read, though I've found the exact opposite has happened in my case. Time, money, and energy (but mostly time) are too precious to squander on the meh movies I used to waste major coin on in my pre-kid days. There's no other way to explain why I willingly went to the theater to see Cold Mountain or Love Actually in 2003, the year before I had my son, except that it was ... the year before I had my son. 

Go, ladies!
Inspirational on the feminist front: LEGO's first female scientist minifig and Diana Nyad, because ... Diana Nyad.

Point/counterpoint of the week
Point: interesting article on talent only being recognized when it's accompanied by success.

Counterpoint (kind of): similarly interesting article on the value of laziness.

If you want more of me on Twitter, @WarriorHauswife is where you should go.

Here's Some Advice for "Breaking Bad" Viewers/Tweeters

Danny Trejo's head on a turtle demands your full attention. 

All I've got this week is my article on Salon.com about the perils of multitasking — specifically, tweeting during Breaking Bad. Don't let me catch you folding laundry while you're reading.

Hauswife's Hump-Day Haiku and Harmonies

If someone finds and buys me this sweater, I will wear it to Trader Joe's the next time I go grocery shopping and post pictures online.

The first rule of Introvert Book Club is: Don't talk about (or at all in) Introvert Book Club.

Which I guess is why no one wants to join Introvert Book Club to gab about Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. 

When you type a word over and over again, it starts to look weird. Introverts!

Anyway, today's theme is ... damn. I just can't do it. 

[HED HERE]

Join me, quiet folk,

So they can hear us all think:
"Please — STFU!"

—J.A.G.

"When I Fall" — Barenaked Ladies

This song isn't so much about introversion as it is about a window washer afraid of heights.  Whenever I hear it, though, I think of the guy on one side of the glass, not able to hear any of the noise from the "sheep" on the other side. I'm also afraid of heights.

If you want more of me on Twitter, @WarriorHauswife is where you should go.

Credit: TBWA\PARIS, France; photographer: Vincent Fournier

Hauswife's Hump-Day Haiku and Harmonies

If I had written this post while I was visiting my parents in South Florida, I could have entitled it "Miami Vise." But I didn't. So I can't. I mean, I still can. I can do whatever I want. But I won't.

Today's theme, written Don Draper-style, is ...

CRUSH

You should know how our
Vises take care of vices:
We'll squeeze your sin out.

—J.A.G.

I like mussels. I like Squeeze. Pat Sajak's OK.

If you want more of me on Twitter, @WarriorHauswife is where you should go.

Credit: Baneofyourreistance.com

An Open Letter to Desperate Cable TV Networks Regarding How They May Profit, With Very Little Effort on Their Part, From the Disappointingly Premature Conclusion of "Breaking Bad"

Raise a glass to these suggestions, yo.

Dear cable television networks:

Now that Breaking Bad is entering the second leg of its fifth and final season, you have the unique chance to capitalize on the show’s phenomenal success and gain unprecedented market share. To achieve this, you’ll need to leverage the phonetic familiarity of the hit AMC series while reinforcing your own network’s singular brand. 

I know you’ve got lots of other stuff going on and are generally very busy TV people, so I have some suggestions. I’m on PayPal. You’re welcome.

Breaking Glad® (Discovery Channel)

Direct competitor to the Science Channel’s "How It's Made” demonstrates how uneven weight distribution affects the label’s well-regarded line of polyethylene products — i.e., the show’s producers cram garbage bags with as many Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift albums as possible and see how it goes.

Breaking Vlad (Syfy)

Original monster-disaster series starring a Gothic-attired Daphne Zuniga (read: regular Daphne Zuniga) and a garlic-draped Kate Upton, fighting the good fight against a Gary Oldman–Rugter Hauer–Jack Palance–Christopher Lee–Frank Langella–Gerard Butler–Leslie Nielsen–Klaus Kinski–Boris Karloff Lernaean Hydra. There might also be sharks.

Breaking 'Nads (SPIKE TV)

Reality series documenting post-presser hijinks in the Abedin-Weiner household. 

Breaking Chad (PBS)

Gripping 96-part Ken Burns documentary about the 2000 Florida presidential election season.

Breaking Chad II (TLC)

If the previously mentioned PBS series doesn’t resonate, commission Hilary Swank's ex and make him watch Parks and Rec with his mother as she continually (not continuously — she does take breaks) screams, "Why can't you be more like your brother Rob?!"

Breaking All-Clad (Food Network)

Therapy-reality participants work out anger-management issues on overpriced pots and pans at a local Williams-Sonoma.

Breaking Cads (BBC One)

I dunno. Something with John Cleese or Rowan Atkinson as the bad guy?

Breaking Brads (Lifetime)

Lovelorn ladies kidnap Pitt, Paisley, and Cooper and demand restitution for their perpetually broken hearts by making these players watch … a Lifetime marathon. This doesn't really make any sense. We're in the seventh-inning stretch here. Or  just a plain old stretch.

Breaking Brats (Bravo)

NYC Prep. Princesses: Long Island. The upcoming Ivy League Confidential. Time for a rich-kid comeuppance. You’ve got this one, Bravo. Own it.

Breaking Strats (The Weather Channel)

Kind of like a hip Storm Chasers, except these weather interceptors exclusively deal with hunting down sheetlike sky condensation resulting from nonconvective lift in the lower half of the troposphere. Niche programming that will nicely fill the void once Keeping Up With the Kardashians leaves the airwaves in 2014.

Breaking Ahmadinejad (Comedy Central)

This guy’s going to be out of a job soon and he’s hi-LAR-ious. Shooting a monkey into space? Denying the Holocaust? Holding hands with Chavez’s mom and prophesizing the late Venezuelan dictator’s resurrection? Comedy gold.

Breaking Bread (A&E)
An amalgam of the network's already hugely popular Hoarders and Intervention. Contestants are encouraged to overcome their '70s Dad-rock addiction by smashing their "I Want to Make It With You" and "Baby I'm-a-Want You" 45s with a ball-peen hammer.

Breaking Usted (Univisión)

A “tables-are-turned” contrarian grammarian documentary in which ESL students speak very loudly to dumb Americans to help them learn the functionality of second-person pronouns and accompanying verb conjugations.

Waking Dad (AMC)

The originating network’s only shot to cling to a piece of the pie by morphing Breaking Bad with its other hit show, the aggressively homophonic The Walking Dead. No idea what this would be about, but somehow a narcoleptic/zombie Tom Bosley would be involved. (Note: Consider cross-promotion with Breaking Glad®!)

Breaking Jihad (History Channel)

Series set in the Buffalo suburb of Lackawanna (hence the flat “a” in “jihaaad”) and boasting a name that serves as its own spoiler alert. The terrorists don’t win after all. Hurray!

Regards,

Jenn

If you want more of me on Twitter, @WarriorHauswife is where you should go.

Credit: Mark Davis/Getty Images

Hauswife's Hump-Day Haiku

I actually saw this movie. And I needed an image.

There are three accompanying music videos today. Even if you don't feel it right this second, you will. Everything's cyclical.

Today's theme is ...

HOPE

Do I shine like a
Motherfucking diamond — OR
Dive down the mineshaft?

—J.A.G.

"Coal Miner's Daughter" — Loretta Lynn

"Shine on You Crazy Diamond" — Pink Floyd

"Without Hope You Cannot Start the Day" — YES

If you want more of me on Twitter, @WarriorHauswife is where you should go.

For Pete

Tomorrow my son turns 9. I was going to write today's post about how he and his sister have been my greatest creations, how they're the joys of my life, what it means to be a mom. Something very gushy and momlike, because that's one of the perks of being a mom — you can indulge such outrageous mommishness, and people will simply shake their heads and sigh, knowingly, "Ah ... MOM."

My kids have been my greatest creations, they are the joys of my life, and I'm looking forward to celebrating my son's last year in the single digits on Monday. But today my thoughts are with another mom (and dad and sister and grandmother and friends) whose son brought joy to an entire community with his infectious smile, incredible work ethic, and damn good egg sandwiches.

Pete Fedden made breakfast and lunch for my hometown every morning for at least the past 12 years, by my count. I'm sure he took a day off now and then, but he was there pretty much every time I stopped by for my greasy morning repast, taking orders, pouring the coffee, chatting up the regulars. He started working at Commack Breakfast (old-timers remember it as Danny's) when he was a teen, and eight years ago he bought the place outright instead of continuing on to law school. Every year around his birthday he would shave his shaggy dark-brown moptop to raise money for St. Baldrick's, a foundation for kids with cancer.

There's no point in describing in great detail what an impact Pete had on the people who knew him, both intimately and peripherally. If you didn't know him, the words will be just words, and if you did know him, you already know what I'm talking about. I didn't even know his last name until this week, when he died in a car crash at the age of 29, and I didn't know much about his life outside of Commack Breakfast — but I knew who Pete was after I ordered my first double special from him.

Newsday doesn't let you read its things unless you give it money, so I'm pasting the article about him below. There's a lot from his mom in there, and my heart especially breaks for her. Her son was exactly 20 years older than my own — too young for this to happen and make any kind of sense to the people who knew and loved him.

Peace to your family and friends, Pete — I'll miss starting my weekends with you. 

Commack Breakfast owner Peter Fedden, 29, dies

Originally published: August 3, 2013 7:48 PM
Updated: August 3, 2013 8:04 PM
By ANN GIVENS  ann.givens@newsday.com

Peter Fedden always said he was going to be a lawyer.

So when the C.W. Post political science major announced eight years ago that he'd decided to switch tracks and buy the deli where he worked part-time, his mother's first thought was, "Oh, no you're not."

He said, "But mom, you're the one who always told me that you have to love what you do. And this is what I love," Fedden said, according to his mother, Nassau County court stenographer Kathi Fedden.

Fedden, 29, of Commack, died Wednesday after his car ran through an intersection and into a building in Hauppauge. No one else was hurt in the accident and police are still investigating.

"He was just larger than life," his mother said. "Everybody loved him."

Buying Commack Breakfast meant finishing college at night, borrowing money from his parents and working seven days a week, she said. But it also meant spending all day interacting with folks from the neighborhood. And that's what her son liked best.

"Someone he knew would come in and he'd say, 'Are you hungry today? I'm going to make you something special. You don't even know what I'm going to make you.' "

Fedden was born March 13, 1984, the first child of Kathi and George Fedden. He had a younger brother, Paul, who died at just one week old in 1995, and a sister, Jaimee Lee Fedden, Kathi Fedden said. Peter lived with his mom, his sister and grandmother Mary Fitzpatrick, Kathi Fedden said.

"He always said, 'I'll never leave you mom,' " she said. "His friend told me, 'I've never seen a kid love his mother as much as he loved you,' And I loved him just as much."

With such a close family, the deli soon became a family affair. His mother, father and sister all worked there part time, and even Fedden's grandmother cooked bacon for the customers, Kathi Fedden said.

Fedden made it a priority to help others, his mother said. At least once a year, around his birthday, he would shave his head to raise money for the St. Baldrick's Foundation, which funds research on childhood cancer.

On the day after he died, the windows of Fedden's restaurant were dark. "Our Beloved Peter Passed Away," a handwritten sign said. "God Bless His Soul."

Viewing for Fedden will be at Commack Abbey Sunday from 2 to 4 and 7 to 9 p.m., his mother said. A funeral Mass will be celebrated Monday at 10:45 a.m. at St. Matthew Roman Catholic Church in Dix Hills, and burial will be at St. Charles Cemetery in Farmingdale.

In addition to his mother, sister and maternal grandmother, Fedden is survived by his father, who lives in Deer Park, and his paternal grandmother, Lorette Fedden, of upstate Newburgh.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made to the St. Baldrick's Foundation in memory of Peter Fedden/Commack Breakfast.

If you want more of me on Twitter, @WarriorHauswife is where you should go.