My friend and once-coworker, Patrick Borelli, takes over the passions newsletter this week. Patrick is a funny and lovable guy who’s published books, written for Late Night and the Tonight Show, and toured around the country with original live shows. He’s also got an awesome daughter, whom I first met as a small baby in the downtown Brooklyn Target. Before she was born, we spent a whole afternoon watching youtube videos of children who admitted to wanting to kill their parents. He’s fun!
*****
Passions this week include: Being Art Directed By A 6-Year-Old, Obsessing Over A Slovenian Cry Baby, Sneaking Into A Church Yard As Though I Owned It, and My Coworkers.
Being Art Directed By A 6-Year-Old. I have a 6-year-old daughter (soon to be 7 on Monday!) who loves to art direct me. And it makes me so happy to attempt to pull off what she’s asking for. I’m not the best illustrator or artist but I’m fairly decent at quickly Googling what she asks for and then doing a reasonable enough hand-drawn facsimile. We have a pretty stable, predictable set of nouns that she wants to see (Sun, flowers, grass, etc) But the main star? Animals. Always. She loves animals. My drawings are about 65% accurate. The 35% that’s “off” is where it gets interesting for me. A turtle that has a sad, sloping dent on the back of its shell. A bird with a wing that is way bigger than the other one and therefore would never be able to take flight. A cat with multiple shaky lumps. They look like genetic misfits who had the misfortune of living too close to a DuPont chemical plant. They’d be seriously fucked if they had to try to survive in the wild. And I love each one so much because they’re a direct result of what she wanted to see. Happy birthday, Vera!
Obsessing Over A Slovenian Cry Baby. C’mon! Who doesn’t like obsessing over a Slovenian crybaby? It’s like the most American thing you could possibly do. I am, of course, talking about the Dallas Maverick’s talented but oh-so-whiny shooting guard Luka Dončić. Every single time he touches the basketball, he falls down or flails his arms and flops as though he were just punched by Mike Tyson. And then, of course, he turns to the nearest ref and whines for a call in the same exact way a child turns to a parent and whines when they walk past the toy section in Target without picking out a toy. He's infuriating to watch but it's oh-so-satisfying to see him not get rewarded for his pouty performance. I’m taking great pleasure in seeing that his tantrums are part of the reason the Mavericks are being dismantled by the Celtics. Oh, and his defense sucks. Bye-bye, Luka.
Sneaking Into A Church Yard As Though I Owned It. A few doors down from my apartment in Queens, there’s a barely used church that mostly hosts AA meetings and CSA pickups. I guess as I’m writing this, I’m realizing it’s an acronym church. I’ve never seen them host a church service. Anyway, they have a pretty big yard in the back, hidden mostly from street view, that’s loaded with overhanging trees and plants and a big lawn. The property is surrounded by a tall metal fence that gives the impression that it’s locked. But it’s not. About 6 months ago I noticed it had a small metal clasp on the fence’s door that you could just slide up and off the rails and, voila, the door opens. The first time I slipped it off, I waited until the sidewalk was empty. I didn’t want anyone to see me potentially breaking into the church’s yard. I snuck around a small path that led to the back of the yard and was shocked by its size. There was no one there. I quietly left and smiled to myself. I knew I’d be back. And I knew that it was OK to use. I’ve probably slipped into that churchyard about 75 times since. I’ve only seen people in the yard maybe 3 or 4 times. We kind of quietly acknowledge each other and then stay at opposite ends of the churchyard. I think they’re like me. They know they’re not supposed to be there and don’t want to ruin it for themselves. But having a whole private yard to yourself in New York City?! It’s the dream. And I didn’t have to spend $25 million dollars to do it.
My Funny Coworkers. I love my coworkers so much. And they love Jo (full disclosure, Jo and I used to be coworkers!) So when I told a few of them I was doing this, I felt excited to share the wealth, if you will. And asked if they’d also like to share something they’re passionate about. Here’s one from Cam.
"My passion this week is taking small steps back. More specifically, measured shuffles. Preferably while holding oblong pieces of Ikea furniture whose wood pegs are actively pulling apart in my hands. Bonus points if I’m allowed to say “I’m OK, I’m OK” to my partner, who gets to walk forwards because I assured them I could definitely handle going backwards. And no, I don’t want to turn around and carry it behind my back. I tried that."
And here’s one from one of my favorite coworkers (and I can confirm was also one of Jo’s favorites as well) Becky.
“My passion is when timing or moments line up perfectly without being planned. The other day I left my apartment at the same time as my neighbor who lives two doors down. I went on a 45 minute walk. I got back to the building, at the same time as that same neighbor. We rode the elevator down and up together, totally coincidentally. I don't know this woman, but we laughed when we saw each other going back upstairs. "We must have the same schedule," I joked. "I'll see you later," she joked. Such perfect timing. Couldn't have planned it better. What does it mean?!