I had not been to the PaperGirl mailbox since … Well, for a few months. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a lot going on around here. It’s like Grand Central Station. It’s like a busy restaurant at Grand Central Station. It’s like the kitchen of a busy restaurant in Grand Central Station. Let’s keep that metaphor going.
Sometimes, things that are not filed as “On Fire” get put on the “Back Burner.” I put the checking of the PaperGirl mailbox on the “Back Burner.”
What’s interesting about putting things that are not “On Fire” on the “Back Burner” is that the burner is on, Mary Fons, and sooner or later, what was on the “Back Burner” skips the state of being “On Fire” and goes directly to “Engulfed In Flames.”
The post office called me last week to tell me that I needed to come get the mail out of my mailbox. They didn’t say what they would do to my mailbox (or me) if I didn’t, but if you’ve ever been to a post office in the city of Chicago, you know it is unwise to make those people mad. They’re already mad. All the time. Even when no one has done anything bad. In any event, just do what they tell you to do and get out as quickly as possible. So I went up to the Merchandise Mart with my key today and I got the mail.
You guys. You guys.
The mail. The mail!
Oh, my. Beckie; Ann; Mr. Stofer; Ms. Hoof; Susan; Annabelle; Ms. Masal; Ms. Fix; The Gain Family … and others that sent gifts and notes and cards … I need to read all the rest of the letters and there’s nothing more I want to do tonight than do that.
A special shout-out to two people who made me yelp and then burble up with tears of joy/longing/gratitude: Leah and Mark.
Mark created the drawing of Philip Larkin. Mark, you are my friend and I value you so dearly. And you and Netta sent fudge again this Christmas. We’ll talk soon.
As for Leah — and I do not pick favorite readers, gifts, or letters, I love them/you all — Leah sent me a little tab dispenser than dispenses sticky tabs with puppies on the tabs. They are … I am literally tearing up when I look at these tabs. Every puppy looks like my dream puppy. I love these tabs and three of them are already stuck on my life, viz. my laptop, bookshelf, etc.
Thank you all for these wonderful envelopes. They are full of stories; they contain your very heart and soul. I will read everything. I love you all very much and you can print that. You can tack that up behind your eyes, knowing that it’s true. I’ve loved people for less than this, this bounty of letters from people out there who read, and write, and connect, and long to connect. Me, too.
Here: Mary Fons / Papergirl, PO Box 3957, Chicago, IL 60654-8777
I vow to you this day (!) to check the box every month. Every single month. Send me your letters, send me your thoughts. And you can send gifts, too, because I know about gifts. Gifts are my love language, and that means I feel love when I get gifts, absolutely, but I also show love when I give gifts. And I give a lot of gifts because I love a lot! (This blog is arguably one big, extended gift of like, life.) Anyway, if you’re a Gift love language person like me, you want to send me gifts because that’s how you show love.* Follow that impulse!
Whatever you do, and no matter if you send anything to me or not, keep writing. Keep connecting. I will if you will.
A Dollar Tree store in Commerce, Texas. Photo: Wikipedia.
It wouldn’t be PaperGirl if I didn’t make a confession every few weeks, so here goes the latest:
I’ve been watching — in fact, I’ve been listening to — what are called YouTube “haul” videos.
Do you know about this haul video phenomenon? If so, are you about to tell me that haul videos have been happening since YouTube began and where have I been living? And are you telling me that you have a problem with the rock under which I live? Well, missy, I like my rock — but I am also glad to peek out of it, sometimes, so I can discover things like haul videos.
In case you are an under-rock-dweller, yourself, a “haul” video is a video made for the internet wherein a person goes shopping and then shows you, item by item, what they bought. Sometimes the haul video includes the actual shopping trip, which means the shopper/vlogger has their phone out as they go through the store and thereby records the whole experience. But for the most part, the recording of the shopping trip itself doesn’t have much more than bouncy, jerky video of the aisles and of the person’s hand reaching at things to check the price on this or that item and saying, “Ooh, this is so cute, look at this!” Often, there’s no talking at all and the trip is set to goofy music. My point is that I’m not super into those videos.
But when the shopper sits down in her house (I have only ever seen female haul videos but I’m sure there are guys who do them) and she says something like, “Okay, guys! I’m just back from [insert store here] and I’m ready to take you through the haul! Let’s open the first bag” — when that happens, I’m hooked.
Again, I don’t watch the videos so much as listen to them. I open a browser window, hit “play” on some hauling vlogger channel, and turn the sound down so that I can work on other things.
In fact … Yes, there’s a video playing on my laptop right now.
This is weird, right? Or is it not weird? It can’t be weirder than this. Or this. But maybe if I try to explain why I do this, it’ll make sense. Let’s hope.
While I have friends and loved ones aplenty; while I feel largely satisfied with the life I am making; while I do very much enjoy living alone, I would be misrepresenting myself if I said there were not times when I wished for a little company around here. (My sweet Philip Larkin; someday soon, dearest puppy, but not today.)
Part of what I like about playing these videos in the background is that they provide a lovely white noise. It’s comforting to hear a nice lady chatting about nothing — and mind you, that’s not a dig. I’m not saying what she’s doing is “nothing” or has no value; I’m saying that going through six bags of discounted craft supplies from The Dollar Tree is not anything that I need to focus on. Particularly.
And that craft things is part of this. I’ve got a specific haul video beat, you see: I’m into the crafters. Not the quilters — do quilters do haul videos?? — and not the makeup girls or the clothes shopping girls. I’m sure there are haul videos for shoe stores and things. Nah. It’s the 50-something ladies who haul from Hobby Lobby, At Home, Michael’s, and whatever those other stores are, that really make me feel … better.
Better?
We all know that I can tell you anything. But when I told my friend Nick about this, I was a little nervous. Would he think I was a total freak? Would he think … What would he think?
One morning not long ago, Nick came over to me while I was working. I had just turned on a video, namely “Arlynn’s Country Craft Corner,” which is a favorite of mine (though I really wish she had spelled everything with a ‘K’ instead of a ‘C.’) He looked over my shoulder at Arlynn as she demonstrated her signature “funky bow,” which is very nice, though for the life of me I cannot figure out why it is considered “funky.”
“I get it,” Nick said. “It’s calming. She’s just a nice lady, doing a simple thing. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed.”
“You really don’t think it’s weird that I love it so much?” I asked. I noticed how handsome he looked in his lounge-y pants and his t-shirt. He looks handsome in everything, though.
“No, I don’t think it’s weird. I think it’s sweet.”
And that’s how you go from writing a post about watching/not-watching YouTube “haul” videos to getting all dreamy about someone who has now appeared in this blog twice.
A still shot from Jack C. Newell’s feature-length documentary, “42 Grams.” Image courtesy Zaxie Films.
Remember Quilty? Like, original, vintage Quilty? Good times, my friends.
Jack C. Newell, my brother-in-law, directed Quilty for the five glorious years we made the ol’ girl If you loved the show — how it was lit, the pace of it, the edits, the music, the mise en scene, the sound — that was Jack’s work you loved because Jack called the shots on Quilty, literally. It was an honor and a pleasure to make that project with my sister Rebecca and Jack, who were dating at the time but not yet married.
Well, I’m thrilled to tell you that my brother-in-law is becoming kind of a big deal in the world of motion pictures. He’s running the Harold Ramis Film School at Second City, which is like, seriously huge. He’s winning awards for his films: feature-length; short; documentary — he does them all so well, these crazy opportunities keep coming his way. He’s being screened at major film festivals, and though Jack said I can’t spill the exact beans about a big thing that is coming soon for him/the world, he gave me permission to say “big things are coming.”
The “big things are coming” comment may or may not have to do with his latest doc, “42 Grams,” which is now available to watch on Amazon, iTunes, Vimeo, and Google Play. All of those links will take you to a page where you can watch the trailer and then the film, however each site handles that. (You know I only link to outside things when it’s really worth it to me/you. It’s worth it.)
The movie follows the meteoric rise of Jake and Alexa, two Chicagoans who started a restaurant out of their apartment a couple years back. The restaurant, “Sous Rising,” had critics and diners in Chicago and beyond freaking out all over the place. I actually remember hearing about this “underground restaurant” that was the best place to eat in the entire city. Well, that was just the beginning of this truly entertaining, truly suspenseful, truly heartwarming story …
… that my brother-in-law got on film. Jack was there with Jake and Alexa for years, documenting one of the most exciting, stressful, you-can’t-write-this-stuff time of their lives. That’s what “42 Grams” is all about and it is a gorgeous movie. You don’t have to be a “foodie” to love it, but if you’re into food, you’re going to love Jack’s movie even more.
And now you can watch it on real-life screens! Like, right now, after you read this interview! Yes, we’re so proud of Jack around here, Pendennis and I interviewed him for you. It has to be done! How often do you get to talk to a real-life director about making a real-life movie? I mean, Pendennis has that kind of access. But he’s family.
Interview With Jack C. Newell, a Big-Time Movie Director Who Is Also My Brother-In-Law
PG: I have to know … You made a documentary about an incredibly talented Chicago chef: Did you eat amazing food all the time?
JN: Yeah, I got to eat stuff pretty regularly. The way that this level of cuisine works, when [the kitchen] makes meals for, let’s say, 10 people, they’ll have enough components for 12. If the color isn’t right or something’s a weird shape, it’ll go onto a little plate and thrown in back.
PG: And it was Jake’s food that started the whole thing off, right?
JN: Yes, Rebecca and I went to eat at Sous Rising.
PG: You guys were dating at the time and now you’re married!
JN: That is true, yes.
PG: I just thought I’d point it out. Tell me more about how the documentary project began.
JN: I was just wrapping up a feature film — a fictional story — titled “Open Tables.”
PG: Which is also available on iTunes, Amazon, and Vimeo.
JN: That’s right. “Open Tables” took place in the food/restaurant worlds of Chicago and Paris. Because of that project, I had eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world. Then Rebecca and I went to Sous Rising and this guy was turning out better food out of his apartment kitchen than some Michelin starred restaurants I had been to. I thought: There’s something here.
PG: Was it ever awkward? Was Jake ever looking at you guys with like, dagger eyes to get out of his way?
JN: The point of documentary is that it captures humanity, and not all of life is sunshine and flowers. You have to be there for all of it. You can’t look away when it gets hard/bad/weird/awkward.
PG: Pendennis is very sad that life is not all sunshine and flowers.
JN: Sorry, Pendennis.
PG: You told me that from the time you had the idea till now, when the movie is debuting everywhere, it’s taken three years to make.
JN: Documentaries. Take. Forever.
PG: Feature-length films, like talky-picture-movies are faster, right?
JN: That’s fair, yes. Talky-picture-movies?
PG: Jack, I’m wondering … Why make a documentary? Why not turn this into one of your feature films? It sure is a great story.
JN: No one would believe this story if you made into a fiction film.
PG: Let’s see: “Young, struggling couple in love start restaurant out of their tiny apartment and become the toast of Chicago …” Yeah, it’s too perfect to be true. Except that it is true. That really is amazing. Were you just marveling that you had this tale unfolding before your eyes? And it was real?
JN: I have to say that I’ve fallen in love with making documentaries. It takes so long and is so hard because you’re totally out of control. But when you capture a real human moment, or bear witness to something amazing, or you can illustrate an idea and you can deliver that to an audience I think that’s really special.
PG: Pendennis would like to know how many people it takes to make a film like this. I think he’s interested in working with you again. [Pendennis was a fixture on the Quilty set bookshelves, as fans will recall.]
JN: Our crew was myself, my director of photography, editor, and sound [engineer.] Nick “Takénobu” Ogawa did the score. For this particular film, shooting in close quarters like this, small is sort of mandatory. And I don’t like having a large crew when it comes to documentary, because I want to try to be as invisible as possible when filming so people feel comfortable. If there’s all these people standing around and taking up space, that becomes hard.
PG: I have to ask you about Alexa. Jake is the superstar chef, but man, Alexa is amazing.
JN: Without Alexa the film wouldn’t work. She acts as a foil to Jake as a normal, non-culinary genius entry point for the audience member who is not a world class chef. She also provides a lot of the pathos.
PG: On opening night of the “real restaurant,” it’s seriously tense. As a viewer, I was really on the edge of your seat.
JN: It’s a roller coaster ride. We really take you on a journey. I think the first 30 minutes, when Jake and Alexa are “underground,” you’re like, “Wow, this guy is sorta … crazy.” Then we see him create a menu and it’s like, “Wow, this guy is crazy talented!” But then the cracks start to appear and it looks like, yeah, he’s got the skills but can he keep it together?
PG: Exactly! You did such a great job with this whole film, Jack. “42 Grams” is so cool.
JN: It’s incredible we were able to document this story. When you watch the film you get to go on this journey with these two passionate people who have a dream and you enter the film at the dream state and it goes from there all the way to the end. I can’t really spoil the ending here, but it’s a very special thing to see something full circle, I’ll say that.
The Golden Circle ladies, c. 1973. Image: Wikipedia.
Hello, beautiful.
I know you’re just dying for sparkling prose and/or investigative journalism, but today’s post will be simply a quilt moment of zen. Here’s why:
I’m on a super-secret business trip, which means I can’t write about what I did today. Or yesterday. Or what I’ll do tomorrow. I will, but I can’t right now.
I keep falling asleep while I’m typing.
The above picture is incredible and you just need to see it.
This picture was found where all my pictures are found, Wikipedia. But it came by way of the gov’ment; The image officially belongs to the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA). I tell you this because NARA has a lot of interesting photographs and you should go look through all 90 billion of them (or however many there are) on a rainy day. I mean it!
Anyway, this picture was taken in 1973 by one Charles O’Rear near Lincoln, Nebraska, and the glowing, generous spirits in the picture are listed as “members of the Golden Circle Senior Citizens Club of Fairmont.”
Don’t you love them? Don’t you just love them all down to bits?
Quilts are good for calming spirits; quilters can do the same. Well, not all of them. That lady in the way back looks a little grumpy.
Is that Philip Larkin down there?? (“Gipsy Fortune Teller,” by Taras Shevchenko, c. 1840. Image: Wikipedia.)
Thank you for being kind about my mini-story the other day; I was weirdly seized with the desire to talk about what was going on with me without actually talking about what was going on with me and it was a really interesting exercise. Several of you asked for more chapters and you know, I might just write them. Thanks, as always, for reading the ol’ PG.
Thank you also for sensing that I have needed a little rest. I am getting a modest portion.
Now, then.
This time of year, you see a lot of “Best/Worst” year-end lists and various wrap-up features (e.g., The Year In Pictures; The Year In Memes, etc.). It’s certainly important to reflect. But it seems there’s way more retrospecting than there is futurecasting. Instead of me doing a year-end wrap up of all the things that happened on this blog in the past year — it was all a blur, anyway — how about some predictions for the coming one?
Here is a list of people, places, events, and other stuff I predict you’ll be reading a lot more about in the ol’ PG in 2018. It’s stuff I’m hoping I’ll be able to write about, anyway. I used a special machine to generate the contents, as you can see:
The PaperGirl Predictor Machine-o-Gram Predictions for 2018
Quiltfolk Magazine (my dream magazine)
Philip Larkin (my dream dog)
Travel (to distant lands??)
A move to a new apartment?? (in Chicago, don’t worry)
Love?? (possible … )
Soaring income (look, this is my predictor machine! I’m going for it)
Completion of my master’s in May (it’s gonna happen!!!)
The return of a certain podcast project??? (who can say??)
Other Wonderful Things
Great clothes, baby
Hottest year ever (not weather)
Now, the PaperGirl Predictor Machine-o-Gram can tell no lies. So it also predicted things that I might not want but that must come to pass because hey, man. Life. So the following things will probably come up as you read along with me, but it’s okay:
Woe
Illness (but nothing serious, hopefully — Thanks Machine-o-Gram!)
Melancholy
Wistfullness
Despondency
General malaise
Crushing fear
Why are you looking at me like that? Them’s the breaks, gang. If I try to land a year with only good things and no bad things, I don’t think it would make for a very interesting reading experience for you. And I live for you.
