Disaffected Prep

Hudson Sutler, Quality Purveyors of Sensible Merchandise 
Find Hudson Sutler on Facebook

 

I spend a lot of time thinking about people and things that "get it." It's a hard concept to explain, but you can feel it when someone is picking up what you're putting down. Like that girl that sends you a package of beef jerky and beer from Thanks, Bro - she gets it. The person who sends a handwritten thank you note instead of an email. Yeah, they get it too.

Well, my buddy Grant Hewit gets it too.

I've known Grant since high school and I'm proud to say we went to Delbarton School together. Grant was always a solid dude in many ways and it's no surprise that he's found something special in the new company he's founded, Hudson Sutler.

Hudson Sutler specializes in high quality, American-made duffel bags in multiple sizes. All bags feature nickel hardware, rustproof resin zippers, plaid interiors and interior zippers.



I really can't overemphasize enough how just "perfect" these bags are. They're the right size, the right colors, the right amount of details. They're instant classics.

Grant and I met up last Friday at the Australian to catch up on old times and talk about his new venture. I took some photos of the gear in action and also posed some questions to Grant. We also made friends with Erin at the Australian and she was gracious enough to model some of the gear too. Thanks Erin!



Dan: Tell me about the inspiration behind Hudson Sutler.

Grant: Hudson Sutler was really born from an appreciation of well made, timeless American classic "staples". Think Brooks Brothers trailblazing the button down collar, Levi brothers putting denim jeans on the map, (I'd love to be able to speak to Budweiser here, but for some reason I just can't get over the InBev buyout....and yes I'm aware Claudio del Vecchio is as American as Snooki's tan is real) Even flip-flops are an American staple, I'm not sure who invented them, but I'm pretty certain Rainbows perfected them. Unfortunately many of these items are no longer actually made here, but to me they're still very much "American Inspired." So with Hudson Sutler, we wanted to take a bit of a counter approach, take an item that's derived from elsewhere (Duffel bags are named for a town in Belgium funny enough) that have had some American-ization and take it a step further by producing them here in the US of A. Our very early design concepts had the bags more similar both in look, and feel, as authentic US Military issue duffel bags, which probably helps explain our name a bit as well. In our eyes, the heavy cotton canvas, can take a beating and still look very classic commuter and weekender bag is one of the American "staples" that's really lost out in the wake of all these rolling bags and hard shell, 76 compartment rolling offices you can find in a SkyMall catalog. We really wanted to go back to the archives, when things were made with pride and care and frankly, it showed. We wanted to bring back that staple the every guy should have. A bag that fits what you need (not everything you own), and looks good doing it.

 


Dan: Awesome. One of the details I really love is the plaid interior/lining; it brings the bag a step up. Where did that idea come from? 

Grant: It's funny, early on in our design process it wasn't something we discussed really. Our aim was to make a very classic looking bag, but still make it distinctive. We toyed around with some other ideas, like waxed cotton interiors and eventually that conversation evolved into cotton shirting material. In some of our original designs we had them as contrast color, solid liners and it just didn't look as we wanted, so we made a prototype with an American flag style fabric liner. (I actually carry that prototype around pretty much daily.) At that point we had a number of fabric swatches that we really thought would work well paired with certain bag exterior/handle combos. If you could have seen my apartment at that time you would have thought I was a hoarder who had a thing for blackwatch plaid and gingham fabrics. I guess the plaid liners to us were about taking a classic staple and putting our touch of personality on it.

 


Dan: Wow - waxed cotton is interesting and I never thought about going that route. Perhaps something to think about for the exterior at some point... Anyway - before we hit our lightning round - why go with the oversized zippers... what's the story behind that? 

Grant: Certainly for the exterior, the only issue being that the treatment of waxed cotton does rub off on other fabrics in certain situations...so we were concerned about using waxed cotton for the exterior of a bag that's intended for everyday use. Ahhh, I forgot to mention the resin zippers. We went with the thick resin zipper for three reasons. First and foremost, they're not brass or metal of any kind, and thus won't rust when you (expectantly) bring these bags everywhere you go. I've had bags in the past that did it all, and in the end succumbed to that nasty greenish staining that metal zippers cause when they get wet too many times. With using resin, we removed that problem and we expect these bags to last as long as you need them too without finding their way out of your daily use just because the zipper got rusty. Secondly, the thick style zipper is far more durable than its thinner counterpart whose teeth are more likely to break and/or get jammed. With the thick zipper those frustrating "stuck zipper" moments become something of the past, and good riddance. Lastly, but most certainly not least, the thick resin zippers to us just have a much better feel and look to them. We chose contrast colors to give the bag some more character and when you look closely, all the stitching on the bag is with contrast stitching. So while the choice is very practical, there is an element of just flat vanity included. It just looks good....which is pretty much how I feel about most classic American things.

   
Dan: Alright awesome. So let's move into something I call the lightning round I'm gonna toss you a question or a scenario and you hit me up with an answer and a quick explanation. 


Imagine you live in a world where you must choose either to have croakies or mid calf socks - but NOT both. Which one do you choose?

Grant: Gotta go mid calf socks. I love croakies and all, but nothing is more amazing than old videos of guys in the 70s working out in short shorts, handle bar mustaches and mid calf socks with the 2 stripes up top. Nothing.


Dan: Can't argue with that, that would be my pick too. Alright, I know that you have one of the greatest 1980's movies, Rad, on DVD, even though technically it is only available as VHS. What's it like having like one of the two copies of Rad on DVD?

Grant: As a gift I can honestly say I've bragged more about getting Rad on DVD than I have anything in my life. Knowing Rad in general is pretty solid 80s street cred, but knowing its not on DVD makes you practically part of Cru's Crew.


Dan: If Hudson Sutler had a theme song, what would it be? Must be from the 70s or 80s. 

Grant: Lay your Hands on me by Bon Jovi. Not sure it reflects our brand, but its just plain awesome. (Also in the running: Badlands by Bruce Springsteen)


Dan: It's been a dinger of a night out and you want to get something to eat at 3am. You have the option of IHop, Denny's, Friendly's or White Castle. (Imagine these restaurants all operate in NYC) 

Grant: Being that I can't remember the last time I went to IHOP, Denny's or White Castle, I guess Friendly's takes this out of default. I'd prefer to just answer Cluck U Chicken though.


Dan: Ahhhh can't believe I left Cluck-U off the list! Good catch Grant. OK, lastly who's your pick for 2012 college lacrosse (Princeton excluded) 

Grant: If the Tigers are out (which clearly is my pick) I'd gotta give a nod to my guy Bill Tierney at Denver. (Although part of me would like to see the boys at Maryland walk with some hardware. Its been a long time...)

Dan: That's it from my end - make sure you check out Hudson Sutler!

I thought of writing about the different types (archetypes?) of literary tote bags out there on the interwebs but found I was already beaten to the punch by the likes of flavorpill and vol 1 brooklyn.

Vol 1 even did the whole, 'what this bag says about you' in the vein of Lauren Leto's cyno-reductionist Judging a Book By Its Lover mini-festo. (Note: read my pal Zack's profile of Lauren)

From Vol 1 Brooklyn:

Shit. I was going to namedrop n+1! (though I go straight to the 'Intellectual Situation,' personally). If Vol 1 scrubbed that corner of the literary universe, what else is out there for me to talk about? How can I get a seat at the literary tote bag table?

I find my ways.

Check it - the ingenious crafters over at Etsy always come through in the clutch.

Need to profess you love of Pride & Prejudice (& Flowers?)


Mr. Darcy to Lizzy Bennet! Love it! From Brookish's Etsy page. 

Maybe you find that too sentimental and want to push your luv of modernism on the L train?


Well, 250Union's Etsy page has got you covered if you've got a jones for Joyce.

But what if Ulysses is a tad too heavy for you cause you're really just more into visceral experiences like getting drunk and writing over-hyped (whoooops) poems about chicks on your 'typer'?


Then buy this Bukowski tote at polymer's Etsy page.

Remember how Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory (1997) compulsively bought copies of Catcher in the Rye whenever he saw a copy for sale?


He'd probably OCD over the above bag, too. From imissyoualready

OK. So everything I mentioned is very author-specific. What if you just want to say you like books, but also enjoy a particular song from Sir-Mix-A-Lot's 1992 album, Mack Daddy?

My friend and bandmate Mike has been instrumental in the development of my rock 'n roll knowledge. He was the first person to introduce me to Johnny Thunders, Jesse Malin and Paul Westerberg's solo stuff. Mike's kinda like that cooler older brother with that killer vinyl collection and who'll let you constantly bum his menthols and never give you shit about about it.

Another one of those bands he introduced me to was the Jacobites, led by Nikki Sudden and Dave Kusworth, who tragically wrote the best rock music in the vein of the Faces, the Stones and Neil Young ten years after those bands enjoyed the apex of their commercial success with a general audience.



I was immediately hooked on Kusworth's songs and especially his look. He just looked so fucking cool in that strange paradoxical melding of devil-may-care attitude with heart-on-the-sleeve romanticism. Here's AllMusic describing Kusworth's solo release, Wives, Weddings and Roses: A tear-stained meeting of Johnny Thunders' "You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory," the Rolling Stones' "Wild Horses," and Neil Young's "Down by the River" wrapped in scarves, bound up in leather pants, and shrouded by cigarette smoke.

Exactly.



Kusworth is influenced by Keith Richards in his looks as well as the music he creates, no doubt. In fact I've seen some pictures of Kusworth on the web mistakenly tagged as Keith Richards. That said, Kusworth lands more solidly on the "tragic Byronic romantic hero" end of the rock spectrum. How tragically under appreciated is Kusworth? Dude doesn't even have a Wikipedia page.



A major component to Kusworth's look are his myriad of scarves that he wraps around his head (Lord Byron rocked head scarves too). Here's an email conversation between Mike and I on the subject of Kusworth's scarves:

Dan: Where do you think Kusworth gets all his scarves from?
Mike: You can get that type of scarf from girls you've had meaningful but doomed relationships with, so that every time you wear it, you can still smell her perfume and remember the time you got stuck in a downpour walking with her by the old church yard.
Dan: Haha, the line is so thin between Romantics and Goths. If it were midnight at the church graveyard it would be Goth.
Mike: Yeah this happens definitely during the day. The streets at night are no place for a British dandy.
Dan: ...carrying a copy of Rimbauld's collected poems.
Mike: ...while mentally comparing love and flowers
Dan: ...while holding an umbrella to shield you from the sun so as not to alter your visage's deathly pallor
Mike: Haha, I bet he was terrible at sports
Dan: Exactly, in high school instead of playing sports he wrote poetry underneath the bleachers while smoking clove cigarettes, pining after the popular girls in English class he couldn't muster the courage to talk to.   

Of course though, image is nothing without good music to back it up. This is one of Kusworth's more recent tunes, "It Comes and it Goes." There's barely 100 views of this video. That's criminal! It's one of the best rock songs I've ever listened to!


It's acoustic and electric; heartfelt and cocky; loving and forlorn; new yet timeless. In other words, it's a great rock 'n roll song.

Here's another from the Jacobites era with Nikki Sudden:

"So she waits there on the stairs at four o'clock / I'll buy her some roses but I'm scared of what it costs / And then she promises she'll buy me everything / but all I want for her is to pin her heart to me"

Isn't that what the best songs and poems are about, whether it's Andrew Marvell or Keith Richards writing them? Wanting someone to pin their heart to you, to tether their dreams to your own?

I think so.

Labels: kusworth, music

Seen some good book related content floating around on the Internet recently:

Plausible-Seeming but Tonally Inappropriate Book Covers:



Kinda would have like to have seen Ed Banky's car perhaps, or the ducks in Central Park, but this cover is pretty good.


Part of the Seth Cohen Starter-Pack.



Would also make a pretty good Pink Floyd cover, if you ask me.


LOVE. THIS.
Would have kinda liked to have seen a group shot of Hal, John "N.R." Wayne, Pemulis and Mario, but really can't quibble.


Postertext

These guys make posters using the entire text of a classic book. Un. Real.

For example, Gatsby:



Super cool general-literary-news-website Vol 1 Brooklyn also has a cafe press site where they sell 11x17 literary trading card posters. Only one right now, but they went with DFW, so solid choice. I bought one of these a few months ago.



Speaking of Brooklyn and DFW, Neighborhoodies also sells a Wallace homage of sorts: Enfield Tennis Academy t-shirts. I also own one of these, and got a head nod from one of the librarians the other day when I wore it to the library. Those who know, know.



Lastly, a tumblr dedicated to images of Lisa Simpson reading books. Genius.

Labels: books

Thanks, Bro Beef Jerky & Beer Delivery 
Find Thanks, Bro on Facebook and Twitter

There have a number of great inventions in the history of bros. The first pull-tab beer can (1962). STX manufactures the first urethane plastic lacrosse head (1970). Dave Matthews Band forms in Charlottesville, Virginia (1991).

Add one more to that list: Josh Folan founds Thanks, Bro Beef Jerky & Beer Delivery in New York City (March 2011).



Imagine a buddy just did you a solid. Helped you install that new 42" HD flatty. Took a grenade for you so you could talk up that Villanova chick at Dorrian's. The reasons for thanking are numerous, though the means are limited. Is an Edible Arrangement fruit basket really appropriate when your bro still crushes beer cans over his head when things get heated in college football?

Of course not. Enter Thanks, Bro.

T,B is a delivery service in Manhattan (below 96th street) that specializes in gifts for that important broseph if your life. Like a version of a dude's Occam's Razor, T,B keeps its gift packages pretty simple: namely, beef jerky and beer (though bro-erfic add-ons like Yankees hats are available).

After hearing about Thanks, Bro through UrbanDaddy (natch), I placed two orders for buddies of mine. I was so fascinated with the simplistic beauty of the business model that I approached Josh for an interview on Disaffected Prep.

We met up this weekend at a park on 29th and 2nd and I took some pictures with the CBO (Chief Bro Officer).



Here is our interview.

Dan: Where did the inspiration for Thanks, Bro come from, and what was it like starting up the business?

Josh: The idea stemmed from a frustrating personal experience I encountered while trying to send a bro-ey surgeon I owed a thank you to some time ago after doing me the solid of fixing my face after a broken cheekbone. I couldn’t find anywhere that would deliver beef jerky and beer, the ultimate male gift combo, in a gift context. No one. In Manhattan. Which still blows my mind. You can get ANYthing delivered anywhere in less than an hour in this town, except beef jerky and beer…at least until now. Enter Thanks, Bro. As for getting started, it basically required just deciding to do it and then sitting down for a couple nights building the illustrious website, followed by another two days social media-ing the shit out of it. By Monday of the following week Urban Daddy picked the story up and we were off and running.

Dan: Awesome. Yeah I saw the UrbanDaddy email and immediately forwarded to a couple of buds saying THIS IS GENIUS. So what's the reception been like so far? Is it mostly bros sending it to other bros or are the brosephinas ordering as well?

Josh: Bro-ettes have been VERY active in ordering in the first few weeks of operation. Just finished processing one a few minutes ago between a sister and her brother (and his wife, amusingly), in fact. I recall making a delivery from a woman to a guy they just wanted to thank for dinner over the weekend – a first date Thanks, Bro, perhaps? Seems a pretty cool way to make a lasting impression on a bro you want to get involved with, bro-ettes…

Dan: Definitely. So what's been the most popular beer so far - I'm guessing Blue Moon and Bud Diesel?

Josh: A lot of Blue Moon, yes. Magic Hat moves. Certainly Bud and its lighter counterpart. Ideally none of these will be on the Thanks, Bro landscape down the road, though. I’m working to establish relationships with micro and local brews that will fill out the product selection, much like I’ve already began doing with the jerky, which I think will further separate Thanks, Bro from what you could get yourself from Duane Reade.



Dan: Oh wow very cool. Yeah I guess you lead into my next question. What's next for Thanks, Bro? My friend Peter (the bud heavy package you delivered) suggested scotch and fillets. I was thinking maybe a Bro weekend pack with beer, jerky, a Top Gun DVD and maybe Yankees tix or something. So fill us in with your plan.

Josh: At the top of the order form, and reiterated in the FAQ, is a note about the openness we have towards the suggestion of custom made-to-order Thanks, Bro packages. So the more creative a thanker wants to get with their thankee, the better. If it’s feasible, we’ll do our damndest to make it happen. And just thinking about it now, maybe we’ll even name good ones after the thanking bro and feature them on the site under the name of their originator. Beyond client ideas, I’m always brewing up ideas with the marketing consultants I’m lucky enough to be working with one this on ways to bro-out Thanks, Bro in any way possible.

Dan: That's a great idea Josh. OK, I figured we could finish up the interview with something of a "Bro Lightning Round." What's more bro, North Face or Patagonia?

Josh: Northface. Frat-tastic bros everywhere agree.

Dan: High five or bro hug?

Josh: Bro hug. Don’t fear showing your bro love.

Dan: Top Gun or Braveheart?

Josh: Top Gun. Braveheart is too bad-ass, bro.

Dan: Del Frisco's or Peter Luger's?

Josh: Luger's, bro.

Dan: Who has the best flow in college lacrosse?

Josh: Billy Jackson. My freshman year college roommate (and lacrosse player) at OSU, circa `99. He was 5’7”, 150lbs on a good day and I watched him crack a half-full 40-ounce over some kid twice his size’s head.

Dan: Well that about does it for the interview Josh. Thanks, bro.

Josh: Thank you, bro.

Labels: frattastic, genius

If David Foster Wallace’s literary frenemy, Jonathan Franzen, had the “literary moment of the year” in 2010, then it is pretty clear that 2011 will be the literary year for the late DFW. Before eliminating his own map (1) in 2008, Wallace left behind an unfinished novel, The Pale King. A story of IRS tax collectors, it is set for release, suitably, on April 15.

With the date approaching, the tidal wave of hype is just starting crank up. Witness the touching 45-min BBC radio program Endnotes on D.F. Wallace, or the NYO piece of the rise of the DFW ‘industry’, among others. Pretty soon the reviews of TPK will come barreling in, too (2).

With that in mind, I’ve been thinking about all the upcoming reviews (3), and specifically, how the content will shape up in aggregate. There are probably some broad predictions that can be made as we eye the April 15 date in terms of what previous DFW stories/novels will be referenced by the reviewer in light of The Pale King. Consider this a form literary bracketology from someone who who cannot name a single team in the entire basketball tournament (4).

34% of reviews will reference his 2005 Kenyon commencement speech colloquially known as This is Water.

The highest likelihood of all oeuvre name-checking, I believe. In terms of recent works that concatenate his ideas into a palatable, brief form (read: hurried reviewer friendly) look no further. Specifically the “really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness...” and the “awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight around us, all the time,” passages.

Based on excerpts published in The New Yorker and other publications, we know that TPK deals with the tedious work of IRS agents, whose job is so perineum-tightenly boring that the agents receive anti-boredom training upon arrival as new employees. While the soul killing work seems, well, soul killing, you can imagine that it does allow a person the type of introspection, or freedom, that is not available with the distractions of Facebook, Gchat, or the placations of capital-e Entertainment to numb us.

In other words, boredom as part of the endaemonic quest to self-actualization.

19% of reviews will reference The Ennet House Drug and Alcohol Recovery House (sic) fact-diarrhea passage from Infinite Jest.

Specifically the statements, “that boring activities become, perversely much less boring if you concentrate on them,” and “that concentrating intently on anything is very hard work.”

Seems to dovetail nicely with the loose plot-line referenced above, though given that the passage is relatively buried among such gems as “that there is a certain type of person who carries a picture of their therapist in their wallet,” (4) in the 1,000+ page novel it lowers the probability of appearing in reviews.

12% (equal chance) of reviews drilling into the work monotony passages from the stories The Soul is Not a Smithy or Mister Squishy.

For someone who never saw much action sliding down that firehouse pole to put out fires with the rest the paper pushers of Corporate America, DFW certainly had a knack for corporate-speak. From Mr. Squishy:

“Schmidt knew full well that Reesemeyer Shannon Belt Adv. had lost the US Brands/Ericson account to D.D.B. Needham’s spectacular pitch for a full-out Shadow strategy, and thus that the videotape of his remarks here would raise at least three eyebrows among R.S.B.’s MROP team...”

Now will this specific passage be referenced? Absolutely not. Though, I use it illustratively because I figure a number of reviewers (approx. 12%) will think to themselves all like, “Oh yeah, I totes remember in graduate school I read that story of his where he’s slinging around all kinds of acronyms and the main character gets so disgruntled he fantasizes about injecting poison into the company’s soft confection products just so he can be the one to lead the crisis communications effort in response to the poisonous confectionary cakes (ala 1982 Tylenol’s successful recall in 1982 that’s taught to like EVERY person who has darkened the door of a MBA classroom) and wouldn’t that be be a good tie up with how the organizations for which we work for can both change how we communicate in addition to perverting our overall motivations and sense of morality?”

From The Soul is Not a Smithy:

The narrator’s dream sequence.
“...tableau of a bright, utterly silent room full of men immersed in rote work. It was the type of nightmare whose terror is less about what you see than about the feeling you have in your lower chest about what you’re seeing.”

Pretty self explanatory.

2% chance of referencing the Narrator of “Good Old Neon” from Oblivion.

Like TPK, Good Old Neon features a character/narrator named David Foster Wallace that breaks the fourth wall. Seems like a small detail, so I doubt it will be referenced much.

0% chance of people referencing his “Fiction’s about what is is to be a fucking human being,” quote.

I just happen to like it and wanted a find a way to work it in here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Now, of course that I’ve outlined various possible references in this article, will that increase the likelihood of them appearing in the subsequent reviews, completely messing up my predictions via some sort of literary Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle? Worth thinking about. At least I can point to that if my predictions don’t pan out.


ENDNOTES
(1) DFW’s own reference for suicide in Infinite Jest, qq.v James O. Incadenza and Kate Gompert. I don’t mean to use the the term facetiously for a human act that is grave in its implications and a burdensome to those the suicide left behind. It’s just that there is a 100% certainty that EVERY single review will somehow mention the s-word, the proliferation of which (the s-word) will geld the painful implications of the act itself. I’m also employing it, the eliminating your own map phrase, as a psuedo-homage to DFW too -- as his use of ten-spot words and quirky phrases in his prose, to me, was not an instance of gee-whiz vocabulary braggadocio but rather an attempt to connect genuinely with the reader by avoiding lazy cliches (1a). See, for instance, his use of the word ‘picayune’ instead of ‘petty’ on his essay re: David Lynch in Premiere.

(2) Personally, I’m pretty eager to see what Michiko Kakutani at the Times has to say, given her tepid review his last fiction work, Oblivion.

(3) This reflection is partly selfish, since I’m slated to review the book for a NY publication, and I’m starting to get my head around the structure of how the review will shape up.

(4) College Lacrosse is an entirely separate story. My tournament, best flow, and all-name-team bracket will beat yours any day, brah.

(5) Carrying a picture, now that I think about, of your therapist seems very, very reasonable. Logical, even.

(1a) I’ve also considered that the vocab thing was an attempt to rescue and preserve the full continuum of the English language, given his self-proclaimed status as a SNOOT (Sprachgefühl Necessitates Our Ongoing Tendance" or "Syntax Nudniks of Our Time")

Labels: books, DFW

From a Gilt Groupe sale the other day:



Lauren Conrad ("LC") first pierced the pericardiums of America with her relationship dramas re: Stephen Colletti on MTV's Laguna Beach. Then she toiled in the salt mines of Teen Vogue under the iron fist of West Coast Editor, Lisa Love on The Hills.

Now, one of her four (!) books is placed in the same league as One Hundred Years of Solitude and To Kill a Mockingbird in a Gilt.com sale.

LC - what can't she do!

Labels: Dude I still haven't been published and LC has four books wtf, Laguna Beach, LC

"Ice Cold Six Packs to go." Now that's a poem.

-Campbell McGrath



Growing up in a New Jersey suburb I’m highly attuned to what I call, “commuter culture,” the idiosyncrasies and mores of the men and women who flush themselves into the tunnels of New York City for each workday to conduct business in a metropolis that resembles nothing like the leafy town from which they left.

It’s the small details of this culture - like the preference of men to wear a Barbour Beaufort jacket over their suit instead of a trench coat, the hear-a-mouse-fart silence that’s observed on the morning train in to New York, or the purchase of one single brown-paper-bag-sheathed beer for the trip home that I find fascinating on a sociological level. These rituals are sacrosanct traditions that stir strong emotions in me, similar to incense at Catholic Mass. In other words, it’s what I’ve always known, and as such, becomes oddly comforting in its sameness and repeatability.

Philip Levine found the simple truth in the, “dollar and a half’s worth of small red potatoes,” the type of thing that is, “...so simple and true,” that it must be, “said without elegance, meter and rhyme.” I feel the same way about the single-beer-on-the-way-home phenomenon, even though I am not a drinker. Taking the above photo is my way of documenting that ritual. While Levine’s example is grounded in the personal - the experience of a single individual purchasing, cooking and consuming - the beer cart’s beauty - and I do see its beauty - is the universality of the pleasure it provides through quick transaction, the way it appeals to thousands of scurrying commuters, who, before dinnertime, want nothing more than to wash the day’s dust away by tipping can on the way home.

I like how certain rules get codified without ever being written down - the way you’re supposed to stand on the right hand side of an escalator so the people who want to walk up the escalator can pass on the left hand side. On the train, one brown bagged beer (12 oz. to 24 oz.) is OK, however two cans invokes dipsomania. It’s funny how the line is drawn.

Residing in a city has much to recommend it as a living cauldron of culture and diversity. I don’t disagree with this, and that’s why I’ve always been attracted to New York. However, I never much understood the arbitrary binary opposition that gets created (city:creativity::suburb:banality) in the myriad of send-ups in film and literature that critique suburban culture. To me, these recreations of the suburbs use straw-man characters (work-obsessed men, bored pill-poping housewives) and tired tropes, implementing a kind of lazy shorthand that belies any sort of nuanced understanding: the very same lack of intellectual depth that they - the cultured city folk - are trying to critique.

In these sendups, the suburbs become a symbol of insulation, though these critiques never seem to explore the fact that for many, moving to the suburbs involves a capital-s Sacrifice to create a better life for one’s children, rather than some innate desire to avoid the examined life via retreat to routines of pizza takeout and Saturday night Netflix.

As someone who has lived in both locations, I know there are unique advantages of each setting and many joys (restaurants, theater, &tc) that can be found in either locale. Though, there are some pleasures that cannot be communicated across the suburb/city divide, and oftentimes it is something elemental and pedestrian, like the simple truth of a beer on the way home to your family in the suburbs.

Labels: essays, photography

bookbook
266 Bleecker St. in the West Village
New York, NY



My first night in the West Village, back in 2005, was spent wandering around the streets of West 4th and Bleecker to get acquainted with the neighborhood.  Unlike a lot of people who seem to be easy conductors for the city's electricity, allowing its stimulative current to pass through their bodies and become electrified by it, I was (and still am) equally repelled and attracted to the élan vital of New York.  Feeling slightly overwhelmed even by the low-key nature of the West Village, I sought refuge that night in a quaint bookshop on the corner of West 11th and Bleecker that had a nice, welcoming glow. Its name was Biography.



Over a year ago I heard local rumblings that Marc Jacobs had outbought the Biography lease upon its renewal in Marc's continuing march towards, what I call, his colonization of the West Village. My fears that Biography would go the way of West Village institutions like Joe Jr's were quickly allayed when it was confirmed that Biography would be moving further south on Bleecker to a new location, with a new name: bookbook.




bookbook offers the best of both worlds - a local independent bookstore with simply phenomenal prices that often beat out Amazon's. The secret is that close to 100% of their books are publishers' overstock, enabling the owners to pass along the savings to their customers.




Though, this does not result in a lack of selection - in fact I've always been surprised by the well-curated depth of their books. In the above photo you can see a good catalogue of Franzen's, Foer's, Fitzgerald's, Denis Johnson's and Joyce's books.




That said, this is not an elitist bookshop. As you can see from the above, Stieg Larsson rubs shoulder's with Tom McCarthy's critically acclaimed 2010 novel, C.




bookbook features an incredibly friendly and knowledgeable staff. You can see Juan and Jenette here in the photo manning the store. Last time I went to the bookbook, I gave Juan a loose description of the type of book I was interested in reading next and he supplied me with some terrific suggestions including Saramago's Blindness, Howards End, the short stories of John Cheever, and Ragtime. The total cost of the haul was something like $25 - and his suggestions were dead on. Sometimes you forget in this age of algorithmic recommendations employed by Netflix that the best tips come from a fellow passionate reader.




Another shot of Jenette and Juan. Last time I was in the store I suggested coming by to take some photos for the blog and they were totally agreeable.




I'm a huge fan of the slightly messy arrangement of the books. It reminds me of what I'd imagine the library of erudite and slightly eccentric gentleman would look like.




So next time you're in the neighborhood, swing by bookbook to pick up that Pynchon novel you've been meaning to read along with a Moleskin notebook so you can fit right in with the rest of the crew at Cafe Doma. I'll be there too.

Labels: books, west village

Off eBay a few months ago I pulled a 1940's era Bowdoin College guidebook for prospective students, thinking I would find pictures of students, their activities and their clothing to be interesting.  Certainly the case - but I forgot it was the era of the War as well, and was surprised to find pictures of ground and flight instruction, as well as a class on Aeronautics.  Amazing how the effects of World War II can permeate an idyllic campus, as these scans show.  (Part I of II)

Labels: bowdoin

Some bros collect pretty fashion pictures and put em on their tumblrs.

Not my wheelhouse.  Instead, I nerd out and collect sentences.

My favorites from an admittedly scattered reading this past week:

"We had our mountain lion, Curtis, with us; we snuck him into the Four Seasons in his cage and locked him in our bathroom."

 -Slash by Slash

First off, Slash has a mountain lion. Secondly he brought the mountain lion into a Four Seasons Hotel (was the Mandarin booked?), and lastly, said mountain lion is named Curtis.  It's such a respectable, adorable name - who wouldn't name their mountain lion Curtis!  Carlton works as a good mountain lion name too, I think.

"We do not admit by collisions of this trivial sort the doors of heaven may be shaken open."

-Howards End by E.M. Forster

Gorgeous language and beautiful sentences throughout H.E. - though thankfully it never skirts into the affected territory, which is a tough line to balance.  The above is a perfect example of a powerful sentiment expressed concisely.

He got into nails, of course,
because He'd always loved
hands--
hands were some of the best things
He'd ever done
and this way He could just
hold one in His
and admire those delicate
bones just above the knuckles,
delicate as birds' wings,
and after He'd done that
awhile,
He could paint all the nails
any color He wanted,
then say,
"Beautiful,"
and mean it.

-"God Went to Beauty School" by Cynthia Rylant

Just do yourself a favor and read the whole poem, it's that good.

[On the Park Slope Coop being worse than Socialism:] “Because at least in a socialist country, if you know the right people, you can get out of it.”

New York Schadenfeude doesn't just extend to bankers; the Park Slope Food Coop is always a terrific target.  The latest uproar? Allegations that some coop members are sending their nannies to fulfill the 2 hour and 45 minute monthly work requirement. Quelle Horreur!

Spent a ten-spot on this little (seriously little - like 4"x 2.5") class of 1944 Bowdoin handbook I pulled off eBay.



Published by the Bowdoin Christian Association in 1940, it provided the in's and out's of the college such as traditions, clubs, frats, college regulations and the like for the incoming freshman class.





Everything in the guide is great - though one section stood out above all: the "advice" to Freshman. A fair amount of it was charming and instructive, similar to George Washington's Rules of Civility and Behavior.

From the handbook:

"Remember that business should come before pleasure and let concern for your courses supersede any other interests. Even though you may play a whale of a game at right tiddle and may be a star on the varsity handball squad you did not come to college to be an athlete."

N.B. I have no idea what a tiddle is.



The more, well, "practical" advice is fascinating.

Freshman must carry matches.
Freshman must not walk on the grass.
Freshman must not wear preparatory school insignia.
Freshman must not smoke on the campus or on the street.
Freshman must not wear bowties, nor wear loud clothing of any description.
Freshman must not sing Phi Chi.
Freshman must not drink in public.
Freshman must not date the local ladies.

Times have certainly changed.

I regularly violated that prohibition on bowties and loud clothing, circa 2002, as a freshman myself.