I don’t do very well with catch-up projects on TV shows and movies. Oh, I’ll binge through a bunch of episodes if I’m behind on a show. I just finished off the last five episodes of Manifest last week, after NBC renewed it. (That reminds me: Renew The Rookie any time now, ABC.) Up next are Doom Patrol, Arrow and The Flash.
But when it comes to catching up for a refresher, I’m not often successful. For instance, I didn’t rewatch the previous seven seasons of Game of Thrones before Season 8 began. And I won’t have watched all of the Marvel movies again — not even the three Avengers films — before seeing Avengers: Endgame this week.
There are too many TV shows and movies that I haven’t watched to devote that time to stuff I’ve already seen. Killing Eve, for instance. Star Trek: Discovery. The second seasons of Westworld, Jessica Jones, and Luke Cage. There’s that new Ultraman series on Netflix. That reminds me, I also haven’t watched Season 3 of Queer Eye. There are so many more. Oh, and the show I’m probably most embarrassed never to have watched: Breaking Bad. Yeah, that’s right.
I’ve been wound really tight through most of the past week. This probably won’t surprise those who know me well. I tend to be a seether, to swallow irritation and annoyance until the kettle finally boils and shrieks to let that heat out.
It’s not one of my better character traits; I know that. I constantly need to do a better job of addressing things in the moment or shortly thereafter, rather than letting them build up. I feel like I’m better than I used to be, but when I do finally air my grievances, it can come across as a surprise to the recipient. I didn’t let on that I was feeling that way.
I always think I’m letting displeasure be known, but it probably gets lost under my default surly setting. So there I go, like Anger in Inside Out or Yosemite Sam with guns a-blazin’, if you’ll indulge a much older reference.
During the past couple of years, I’ve looked to the past to try and make the present happier. Getting back in touch with the things that once brought me joy could bring joy once again. Maybe that’s a form of regression. Maybe it’s a futile attempt to reminisce about simpler, more care-free times.
This has been on my mind for quite a while, but Meghan Daum’s recent essay on Medium got me thinking about it more. At 47, two years after her marriage ended, Daum is living much like she did as a 27-year-old. Is that always who she was, deep down, even when she tried to follow the path — career, marriage, etc. — to which we all aspire?
Maybe Rust Cohle was right. Time is a flat circle.
We usually save something inspirational for the end of these (not a) newsletters. But Steven Soderbergh has been doing quite a bit of press for the release of his new film, High Flying Bird, on Netflix. (I hope to post a review this coming week.) And in one interview, he responded to his 2001 Academy Award acceptance speech being used by Oscar telecast producers as an example for the ideal acknowledgement for winners.
If you haven’t seen it, here’s the speech Soderbergh gave upon winning the Academy Award for Best Director. (Traffic was the film that earned him the honor.)
Succinct and to the point. It’s definitely a good example for other Oscar winners to follow. Here’s the key passage, the one which really spoke to me and so many others:
“I want to thank anyone who spends part of their day creating. I don’t care if it’s a book, a film, a painting, a dance, a piece of theater, a piece of music — anybody who spends part of their day sharing their experience with us. I think this world would be unlivable without art, and I thank you.”
Am I already falling behind on 2019? (Falling into old bad habits is more like it.) I’ve been pretty good with eating less (and better), reading more, and keeping up with TV shows. I’ve been obsessive about doing the New York Times crossword puzzle, though I still can’t get past that Wednesday hurdle. (The mini puzzles on the app, however, are totally addictive brain candy.)
But my resolve to write more can’t slide, man. So Overzealous Recycling is back after a week’s absence. Did you even notice?
Mahershala Ali as this week’s featured image seemed only appropriate. He’s starring in Season 3 of True Detective, which thus far promises to be a return to form for Nic Pizzolatto and his bizarre crime anthology. Ali also earned a Best Supporting Actor nomination for his role in Green Book (a movie I inexplicably still haven’t seen yet) and looks like a strong favorite to be a repeat winner in that category. He’s also in Alita: Battle Angel, coming out in a few weeks. It’s already a good year for him.
If you’ve taken the time to scroll through this blog’s archives — and truly, thank you if you’ve actually done so — you’ve walked a path largely littered with neglect and failed ambitions. Trying to maintain my version of a newsletter here definitely fell victim to that.
I enjoy newsletters a lot (although I’m trying to pare my subscriptions down during the new year) and would like to take a swing at one myself. (In a future post, maybe I’ll list some of my favorites.) But I doubt that I’d attract enough subscribers to make the venture worthwhile. If I’m wrong about that, please let me know and I’ll activate the MailChimp (“mail… kimp?“) signal.
However, I have no business running a newsletter unless I can produce content regularly. There’s a writing resolution for 2019. And if I want to actually create a newsletter, calling it “Not a Newsletter” while it’s in blog form probably sends the wrong message. After tripping over the phrase “overzealous recycling” a couple of months ago, I thought it could be a good title for a newsletter. So here we are.
These sorts of posts largely began as collections of links to my writing and articles I enjoyed. I haven’t written anything that I’d care to link to in recent months, but hope to change that. And I still find plenty of stuff that I think might interest you. Yet a newsletter should include much more than that. There should be some original writing, mixing in other content like video, photography, audio, and… recipes. (Those seem to be popular!)
When I was a kid, working in radio seemed like such a cool job. Every station had to be like WKRP in Cincinnati, right?
That delusion was first dispelled when I won a prize from the old WIQB (Rock 103!) in Ann Arbor and drove to the station to pick it up. Rather than a respectable office with the magic happening behind the glass, WIQB was basically a shack out in Saline.
As I grew older and got to know people in the radio business, I learned how brutal it could be. Many of them had been ruthlessly fired. (My podcast co-host was one of them.) Plenty of people in other lines of work have been let go because of salary cuts or job duties changing. But radio was supposed to be the cool job.
I was reminded again of how cruel working in radio could be earlier this week when a host I’ve worked with for years was fired. Here in Asheville, Bill McClement was a co-host on the sports talk show I’ve contributed to for nearly five years. I’ve talked to him two to three times a week throughout that time. I’ve sat in with him as a co-host a handful of times and always had great fun doing so.
Working at home, I’m not always the most social guy, so there have probably been many weeks when Bill was one of the few people with whom I had a conversation — even if it was about baseball for a segment on a sports talk radio show.
No, I don’t know all the details and probably never will. It’s not my business. But watching someone lose his job after 15 years with a company (and 40-plus years in the industry) is heartbreaking. It sure seems like he deserved better.