eric nuzum dot com

Help me interview Chuck Palahniuk

  Chuck Palahniuk's books 
  Originally uploaded by Yoav Lerman.

Whenever any of my friends hear that I've been asked to interview author Chuck Palahniuk in front of a huge audience at the Avalon Theater on June 3rd, they always have the same response.

"Cool."

Then there is a bit of a pause.

"You know," everyone continues, "his fans are...crazy."

So, I've heard.

Trust me, this has weighed on my mind. I'll be be sitting on stage with this noted author (in DC to pimp his new novel, Snuff), in front of hundreds of his rabid fans. No matter how much I read up on his output, I will still be the least informed person in the room about Chuck Palahniuk's work. So, instead of faking it, I've decided to embrace my stupidity (this tactic has worked well for me in the past, like, almost every day of my life).

It's just been announced that the event is happening, so now seems like an ideal time to put my plan into effect.

Basically, I'll be posting around on message boards and fan sites asking: "What should I ask Chuck Palahniuk in our interview?"

If you have any suggestions, feel free to write me. I'll even give you a shout-out if I use your question.

 

Powerful

  nap time 
  Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine.

I haven't written much lately, here or anywhere, because I've been sick. I thought it was allergies, then I thought it was a cold, then I thought it was pneumonia, then I thought I was going to die.

It turns out I had a whopper case of bronchitis. Much to the chagrin of many, I'm sure, I will survive.

I was at home Monday coughing out little chucklets of my lungs and Katherine was home too (feeling a little under the weather herself). We were all set up for our sick day, then the power went out.

Then it came back on. And went off. And came on. And went off again.

I stopped counting after the fourth time. I stopped resetting all the clocks and counters a few after that.

The power was out all through our neighborhood because of some terrible storms over the weekend bringing high winds and inches and inches of rain. I optimistically called the electric company, where a recording told us to hang tight until 7pm.

So we sat there: no telephone, no TV, no computers, no...anything we like to do. So we had to entertain each other. (Not in that way, perv-o, we were sick). We talked and napped and read and made each other laugh. The animals piled onto the couch as well and we all just hung out.

I was actually a bit disappointed when the power came back on. We'd just busted out the candles, convinced the power company would never hit their deadline.

The next morning Katherine and I both admitted that we'd had a really good time. No distractions, no interruptions. All we had was each other. When you are in a marriage or long-term relationship, you occasionally wonder, in the back of your mind, if this person actually likes you--or if they are just used to you. Every once in awhile it's nice to have some fresh evidence that you are there on purpose.

I joked that we should turn the power off for a period of time every weekend. Actually, I wasn't joking at all.

I miss Meghan

  Look at my eye 
  Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine.

Calling someone your "best friend at work" is tantamount to proclaiming "this is the best tooth filling I've ever had" or announcing of all the boils you've ever had on your ass, this particular one is your favorite. Well, it isn't quite like those things at all, but you get the point.

Meghan and I have been friends for a few years, meeting through a mutual friend at work. At that time, we both took the Metro to the same stop, so we started riding home together. Then we didn't live near each other at all, but we went out for lunch a few times a week. Then we lived near each other again, so started commuting together again.

Also, Meghan became really good friends with Katherine, then started dating (now engaged to) one of Katherine's co-workers. Eventually, we all became part of a group of 8-12 friends who do a lot of things together.

But Meghan was always unique because, well, because I'd see her all the time.

About two weeks ago, Meghan took another job doing design work for a financial services company. It's a great move for her, but it's been pretty awful for me.

I don't think it's possible to appreciate how much having a real friend at work means, especially one you don't work with directly...until you lose them (because of the job change...not because they die...or you hate each other or something). Meghan wasn't just a fun person to have lunch or swap music with. She was a tie from my out-of-work life that provided a necessary sanity break from the occasional nuttiness of work.

I never talk about my full-time job here, and that's very deliberate. I love what I do, but it is very demanding work. It requires a lot of my time and energy, which I happily give--with one condition. Whenever possible, I leave work at work.

But now, work seems a lot more...lonely.

Fortunately, some of my other friends at work have taken notice of my dragging my feet as I walk down the hallway with my head hung down. They've responded with IMs, chats, or lunch invites. It's actually kind of touching.

The irony of all this is, as the picture might indicate, Meghan is a big jerk. In general. She's a bigger jerk because she took another job, but she was pretty jerky to start with.

My 12-year-old nephew's band

  eric and dylan 
  Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine.

Actually, my nephew is 11, but his birthday is only a few weeks away, which means he will INSIST that he is 12.

So, anyhow, the rock band.

Dylan has been interested in the drums since he was an infant. He would also want to play the drums when his father's bands would practice. His Mom just sent around a note that they'd been picked to play at an event in Boulder (where they live) and it includes a link to a song they recorded. Here is a link to their song.

It doesn't matter how many times I listen to it, when the singer kicks in, I smile.

Spectacles spectacle

"I'm sorry I didn't greet you like a neighbor this morning...it's your new glasses" my neighbor Rita said to me yesterday.

"You got out of your car and I didn't recognize you. I thought you were your brother or something. That is why I just said, 'hi,' instead of my normal hello--I didn't think I knew you. They change your look completely."

Rita was the fourth person in a week to suddenly notice my new glasses (which I've actually had for well over a month). Several have even used the occasion to talk about their disdain for my previous pair.

"Yeah, I didn't know how to tell you this," my friend Dan said over our third or fourth beer the other night. "But I really hated your old glasses. I just didn't say anything." He then wondered aloud how you might tell someone--a friend presumably--that you didn't like his or her glasses? Obviously, a couple glasses of beer help out considerably.

I've always been a picky glasses picker-outer. I want something that doesn't attract a lot of attention, but still fits me. I want something that will help me fit in at a tapas restaurant in Dupont Circle as well as a BP station in Ohio (I have no idea why I decided that should be my counter-point location--I'm really not the type who spends a lot of time hanging around gas stations in Ohio--honest).

I didn't mind my last pair of glasses at all--except when I sweated. Then they'd slide down my nose and I'd have to push them back up. And push them back up. And push...you get the picture. Replacing them had nothing to do with style at all, I just got tired of pushing them up on all the time--and with a DC summer looming, took action. But apparently, lots of people disliked them.

Moving on.

Mambo Italiano!

  censored 
  Originally uploaded by Tory Jane.

Over the past several years, I've stepped away from writing and thinking about music censorship issues. There really is no good reason for this except that I accomplished a lot, got to do a lot of amazing things, met great people, traveled around the world talking about it, and generally felt like I've seen something through from beginning to end.

I spent almost seven years being involved in the issue, writing books and essays, documenting its history, and "speaking the truth."

It was simply time to move on and do other things.

However, every once in awhile things still pop up from all that work.

Like yesterday.

I got a package in the mail yesterday out of the blue. I thought it was something I order on Amazon or something. Actually, it was an Italian book translating several censorship essays, including several of mine.

This may be a normal thing for other authors, but this is the first time any of my work has been translated into anything (especially without me knowing about it).

It's fun to see sentences like "Ma sono tocccati dal fatto di non poter ascoltare 'Stairway to Heaven' e "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds'" appear on pages with a lot of other things you can't understand--all underneath your name.

Maybe someone will eventually translate The Dead Travel Fast. Does anyone know how to say "nincompoopery" in Italian?

New guest post on Prince of Petworth

  Cocktail Essentials 
  Originally uploaded by DOS82.

Time for my monthly guest post on our neighborhood's megablog, the Prince of Petworth. This one asks "If there was a cocktail named after Petworth (our neighborhood in DC), what would it be?"

Quote:

While lacking a specific recipe, my wife nailed the requisites for “The Petworth.”

“When someone first hears the ingredients of ‘The Petworth,’ it would sound completely disgusting,” she offered. “Then, once you tried it, it wouldn’t be nearly so bad. Then, a week later, you’d be craving another.”  

Here is a link to the whole thing.

What Do You See?

  What Do You See? 
  Originally uploaded by clownish.

Someone has posted a set of 17 oddly compelling photos of another someone dressed as a clown at locations around DC.

It's hard to stop looking at them. Brilliant.

Here's the link.

Security

  security tag 
  Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine.

I was very surprised the other day when I returned from CVS and discovered that there was a security tag (the kind that sets off the obnoxious/loud/worthless alarms when you are leaving the store) that was hidden inside...dental floss.

Dental floss?

Come on--I don't think to many thugs are going to risk a stretch in the pokey for lifting dental floss.

Plus, oral hygiene is something to be encouraged. Perhaps it is just me, but if someone is so desperate to floss that they are willing to risk humiliation and/or prison to do so--let 'em.

I hate, I mean, I love, Daylight Saving Time

  time spiral 
  Originally uploaded by strange_wax.

So now it seems that everyone has stopped their bitching about the time change and how "tired they are" because they have to haul their lazy asses out of bed a whole hour earlier. Either people have forgotten, enjoyed having the extra daylight, or found something else to complain about.

For years I've railed against Daylight Saving Time, but it has nothing to do with getting up early. I've bitched and bitched about this archaic practice and wondered why we collectively just can't let this nonsense go. I mean, I would get really honked off about this--every year.

Then I realized that I have the whole mess backwards. My issue isn't with Daylight Saving Time--it's with non-Daylight Saving Time.

A quick quiz for you: which is the "real" time--DST (now), or the other clock setting (October thru March)? See, this is where I always got tripped up.

"Real" time is when we fall back between October and March time. Daylight Saving Time (now) is fake time.

I always, my entire life up until now, believed that this was "real" time and that in the fall we adjusted our clocks to make the light and dark line up with the traditional work day.

Totally bass ackwards.

DST was established to make the day longer in the warmer months to promote outdoor activities and reduce energy consumption. Of course, the benefits have never panned out and the practice is still nonsense, but I like having longer days. So I guess I'll just drop it.

Oh, except for one thing: stop calling it "daylight savings time"--it is "daylight saving time."

Labels

  labels and labels and labels 
  Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine.

When we wrapped up the closing for our house, our agent presented us with an attractive box to keep all our home paperwork in, along with a nice little gift card and a stack of address labels.

Nice touch.

Then our insurance company sent us some address labels, and the bank, and another insurance company, and a credit card company, and Home Depot, and Welcome Wagon, and Entertainment Weekly (two different sets), and so on. So now, I have a stack of several hundred return address labels. Most (but not all) spell my name correctly. Many, many hundreds.

While I appreciate the gesture--how much mail do these people think I send?

I believe I can fly

  Human flight 
  Originally uploaded by elliotthoffman.

I've spent the last few days recovering from something I picked up while visiting my mother in the hospital--stomach flu or the Ebola virus or something similar. Every orifice of my body was involved (including several parts of my body that I was previously unaware could excrete anything at all)--let's just leave it at that.

Laying there hour after hour in my fevered state--I kept periodically blowing my own mind with deep thoughts. Like, why is that you catch "a" cold--but you catch "the" flu. As if there was like a singular flu going around and you caught "the one."

During this period, I also became completely convinced that I had taken flight lessons in the past. These "memories" of the supposed lessons and first solo flight were so vivid that if you came up to me right now and said, "You know, you really did take those flight lessons"--I would totally buy it. They were that realistic.

I came downstairs and informed Katherine of this--that I had these incredible detailed memories of taking flight lessons. She looked at me silently for a moment and told me I should go back to bed.