James's Beard

On Beer

2008-06-17T12:54:00.000-07:00

When I reached legal drinking age I always pictured myself aging into a wine person. I pictured myself eating rare cheeses and pontificating about the various merits of the fine vintage I was partaking. I would be able to wax poetic about the various wine growing regions around the world. I would talk at length about their soil contents and how they nurture different types of grapes allowing different countries to produce different types of wines. I would pay attention to yearly weather patterns. I would know what wines to buy from where and how long to store them for optimal enjoyment. I would know and strictly adhere the proper serving temperatures. I would scoff at the cheaper more popular wines people brought to parties. I would be an intelligent man of the world full of knowledge about the delicious wines I drank. In short, I would be an insufferable prick.

I never really got into wine though. Sure, I drink it. I have a vague idea of what I like. If I were to go to a tasting – which I never have, but would like to some time – I would be able to compare the different wines intelligently if not fully knowledgably. No, I do not know wine. Was it the expense? Did I find the volume of knowledge intimidating? Did I just get lazy? No. The simple answer is I have been blindsided by beer. Yes, beer, the nectar of the blue-collar world. I have fallen head over heals for beers, and I do not feel I have lost anything in foregoing wine. As I have grown I have discovered the vast, eccentric, complex world of beer. Beer holds its own against wine. I actually find the variety of beers exceeds that of wine. Once you move beyond the Coors/Budweiser Joe Six-Pack level of beer drinking, you discover a beverage that holds its own against any wine in terms of complexity of flavor and experience. That’s right. I have become a hophead. I save my poetic rhapsodies for fine Belgian concoctions of malt, barley, and hops. I can talk of a beers balance, complexity, and mouth feel. I can confidently turn my nose up to any beer in any keg at any run of the mill party. I have chosen beer over wine and am just as much of an insufferable prick as I ever wanted to be.

Not that I am alone in discovering the true wonder of beer. There seems to be a rising tide of true beer connoisseurs. There is a preponderance of websites and news articles dedicated to reviewing new beers. Beers are being imported at higher rate, and – more exciting yet – American microbreweries seem to be in a boom. New breweries, both local and with larger distributions, are opening across the country. With these businesses comes a new an infectious love and respect for beer and traditional brewing processes. This has also led to an influx of unique beers. While wineries seem to be stuck in more classic methods, microbrews have been freed to experiment with different brewing techniques and ingredients. I have sampled beers with a far range of flavor additives ranging from the more traditional chocolate and coffee to a beer advertising hints of bubble gum – well full confession, when faced with the bubble gum beer demurred, although I have it on good authority that it was pretty gross. Now is a wonderful time to explore the vast world of beer. It is a great to be a beer drinker today.

Beer also offers a more affordable option than wine. Now I fully feel that a good beer offers just as much flavor and complexity of a good wine, but where you may spend well over ten dollars for a single glass of even average quality wine, you can buy a truly fantastic bottle of beer for as little as three dollars – prices of course tend to vary across the country. For the cost of a decent bottle of wine, you can buy a mixed six-pack of beer from a good distributer. While the wine drinker stuck with just the one kind of wine for that money – better hope he likes it – I can have six different beers to tempt my palette. This is certainly a more attractive situation to me.

Of course, I do not know everything about beer. I am looking forward to trying many different varieties. I am enthusiastic about exploring the idea of pairing beers with food allowing the brew and the food to compliment and bring the best out of each other. I want to try every Belgium Double, Trippel, and Quadruppel I can get my hands on. I want to stop at as many local microbrews possible to enjoy beers only be found at these locations. I want to sample and learn as much as I can about beer. I want to the best-informed insufferable prick at the party. And when someone uncorks the wine, don’t be surprised to find me reaching to the cooler for a much more interesting IPA.

Shalom

Book Review: Pastoralia by George Saunders

2008-06-12T13:39:00.000-07:00

Above all else, the stories collected in George Saunders’s Pastorolia are morality tales. The short stories are thematically linked by the exploration of where personal desires and interpersonal morals meet in a world that places the emphasis on the greedy individual. Saunders’s characters are repeatedly faced with choosing between their own selfish desires and doing what is right for those around them as well as themselves.

Now, I do not want to make the collection sound like a drab assortment of stern moralizing. The stories found in this book are very entertaining, and quite often hilarious. Saunders is often described as a satirist. His eye for the absurdities of modern life is fantastic, and he has a knack for drawing them out to their logical, but brutally silly extremes. He utilizes a simplicity of expression to describe the bleakest of societal situations which reminds me of Vonnegut at his best. Saunders is also brave enough to allow traces of optimism shine through the cracks in even the most seemingly nihilistic situations.

The stories in Pastoralia are not perfect. “The Falls”, the book’s concluding story, underlines the theme – which is also the theme of much of the book – a little too bluntly making it feel more like an incomplete exercise rather than a fully fleshed out story. Still, by and large the stories succeed in drawing the reader into the author’s slightly bent world-view. The title story offers a caustic rebuke of impersonal corporate culture set in a strange amusement park where employees are paid to act like cave men for the entertainment of visitors. The story shows the almost Orwellian impact of corporate language, and the toll taken when hierarchy pits person against person. It says a lot that the people dressed as cavemen are more human than the corporate bosses above them.

The books best story is “Sea Oak” which mixes elements of horror and pathos in it’s description of a lower class family trapped in their bleak existence by their own laziness and apathy. It takes an act of ghastly, almost zombie intervention to begin to shake the family out of its stupor. It speaks volumes to Saunders’s abilities that hope begins where the rotten, fallen apart body of a family member ends.

Shalom

The 1% Solution

2008-06-09T17:41:00.000-07:00

My grandmother is the only person I know who buys 1% milk. She may be the only person in the entire world who buys the 1% for all I know. I do not recall ever seeing another soul opening the cooler to the 1%. I have never seen anyone at a check out with the stuff. I have never witnessed it in any friend’s refrigerator – not that I often search through acquaintances’ kitchens, unless, of course, I suspect they are harboring good beer. I have no idea what advantages the 1% milk holds over its more popular whole, skim, and 2% brethren. There must not be many. I am not even sure what the percentage refers to. 1% of what? I want to say it has something to do with fat or cream content, but I cannot say with any authority. It may just as well refer to some insidious secret ingredients – medical wastes, rat feces, vitamin D – as any known dairy product. I guess I’m not really up to snuff on my milk knowledge. I don’t really like milk. It’s gross, a beverage with absolutely no quenching capacity. It’s the only thing people drink which still needs washed down with another beverage. It’s opaque. It comes from underneath cows. I really do not like milk, which is odd since I love so many other dairy products. I have an abiding passion for many of the things milk becomes – cheeses, creams, yogurt, mustaches – but no real love for the pure stuff itself.

My grandmother on the other hand must have a long-standing affair with milk. I’ve never actually witnessed her drinking milk, but I have seen the empty cartons. At least twice a week I am sent to the store to by half a gallon of 1% milk. Why she settled on 1% as her milk of choice is beyond me. Why my grandmother scorns the more conventional milks is a question I have long pondered, but never asked. Maybe it is doctor’s orders. Perhaps, she just likes being different – not really much like my grandmother, but everyone has to have his or her little quirk. She may honestly like the stuff. She may be onto a milk secret no everyone else has yet to discover. 1% milk may be the tastiest milk out there. It might be so good you don’t need to add chocolate to make it remotely palatable. My grandmother may be on the cutting edge of milk drinking. In the future, 2% may have sissy cap colors like pink and yellow while 1% wears the manly blue mantle. All I know is that I get strange looks at the counter when I bring up the 1%. I can see it in every checkout girl’s eyes, “Oh, so YOU’RE the one.”

No. I am not the one who drinks the 1%. I am only the one who buys it. And, no, I have no idea why.

Shalom

Baby Bored

2008-05-29T11:56:00.000-07:00

Babies are like drugs. If you bring them to a party they get passed around and everyone starts acting stupid. I witnessed the stupefying powers of babies in person over this Memorial Day weekend. I found myself smack dab in the middle in the eye of the perfect baby storm.

Over the past year both of my brothers proved their virility by impregnating women. So, my family has grown by two bald, small, inarticulate people: My nieces, Abigail and Leora. My family – my parents in particular – has been driven quite mad with the baby craziness. The symptoms of said disease include the sudden expenditure on an obscene amount of baby clothes simply because it is deemed adorable, the gradual loss of language skills until words such as baba and binky become acceptable terms, and a compulsive need to photograph everything. My parents have come down with all of these symptoms and more, but this past Sunday was the worse.

My younger brother and his wife came up from Virginia with their 2 month-old, Leora. Once in Pennsylvania, Leora joined forces with her 6-month-old cousin Abigail to form a two-headed monster with such incredible powers of adorability my entire family was rendered into a soft, jelly-like mass of gibberish spouting baby love. This Memorial Day we paid tribute to babies, and how cute they are, especially if you have two of them who can be put into the same crib while five cameras record every movement.

It was sickening really. Everything was baby centered. From the moment I walked into my parents’ house, I was overcome by all things baby. They were forced into my arms. There was much pointing and googly talk. Everyone pretty much sat around passing babies while talking about babies: what they eat – formula – what they do – almost roll over – and what they might start to actually do – roll over. Almost immediately it was decided a trip to the local playground was in order. My father happily rolled out his shiny new radio flyer red wagon for the trip. Now, if you are like me, you probably remember the radio flyer as a simple contraption with a metal bed, some wheels, and a handle. Well, this was a whole new beast, an upgraded model. It was made of plastic and was fitted with two fold down baby seats, seat belts, and cup holders. My father did hold off on buying the optional sun canopy. Although after being out on this sunny day, I think he may be considering a step up.

Now, here’s the real annoying thing about having babies around. No one was paying any attention to me, and I was on fire at the playground. I was swinging real high. I mean really super high. I even jumped off the swing. I was climbing the jungle gym. I was racing down slides. I made it all the way across the hanging rings without touching the ground. Wherever applicable I worked in the daring maneuver of going ‘no hands’. But no one would even look at me. Even though I exhorted them to. Even my mother barely noticed me. I even said “Look Mom, no hands!” She didn’t even tell me to be careful. What kind of bullshit is that? Baby bullshit, that’s what kind.

After a dinner centered on baby conversation, we settled in for the most obnoxious part of the day: home movies. My older brother bought himself a fancy new camcorder, and I guess every spare moment has been spent training the camera on his daughter, Abigail. Here she is looking at the cat. Adorable. Here she is taking a bath. Adorable. Here she is watching television for fifteen straight minutes. Un-effing-believably adorable. Here’s the thing about home movies. A lifetime of watching ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos’ has conditioned me to expect something hilarious to happen within five seconds of any home movie. When nothing hilarious happened and the videos kept going and going and going, I became uncomfortable. I began to suspect my brother was playing some sort of Andy Kaufman-esque experiment in humor. He was subverting our expectations of home video humor by removing the normal slapstick payoff. Slowly I realized home videos are just boring. No matter how long I waited for my brother to get hit in the junk, it was not going to happen.

Thankfully, the home movies were the apex of baby worship. All that was left was more baby passing mixed with some ‘fussiness’. The fussiness was on my part. I was bored and ready to go home. Eventually, I got my wish. Released from this crazy house of mass baby hysteria, I was able to go back to my own grubby little apartment to shake the baby out of my soul. I was free to do what I normally do: strip down to my boxers and check my email. Adorable.

Shalom

On Miley Cyrus

2008-05-20T15:50:00.000-07:00

Miley Cyrus is a pretty big deal to pre-teen girls. Parents resort to anything short of murder – that we know of – to get their spoiled brats tickets to her concerts. She stars on the Disney channel show Hannah Montana, which sounds like it should be about a drugged out stripper, but sadly is not – the Disney channel affiliation should have been a tipoff. Annie Liebovitz snapped some supposedly racy photos of her which ended up being about as shocking as an Amish sleepover. That about fully encompassed all my knowledge of Miley Cyrus up to about a week ago when on the first day of my vacation to New York City I walked through my aunt’s front door to find myself face to face with the tween phenom.* Well, actually it was just a life-sized Hannah Montana – still not a stripper – cardboard cutout belonging to my two young cousins. It was still quite a shock. It’s creepy to enter a home to the lifeless, fake, smiling visage of young America. It was even creepier after I discovered someone had place scotch tape X’s over her eyes and mouth as though to restrain her from waking in the night and feasting on the souls of the slumbering family. Being first truly introduced to Miley in cardboard form is also apropos in the clichéd sense that I later discovered her entire image is empty and shallow, all surface with no underlying substance.

Of course, this is to be expected from teen idols. Pop stars aimed at pre-teen audiences are not exactly famous for their depth. They usually get by on flash, winning smiles, and whatever pop smarts their handlers may possess. The truly shocking thing about Miley Cyrus is how, even by the low standards of teen idoldom, she seems under qualified. Honestly, Miley does not exactly blow you away with talent. Listen to one of her songs. Go ahead.

She does not even have a particularly strong voice. Actually, she has a weak voice. She doesn’t exactly belt knock the ol’ roof off. She just kind of mumbles along in tune in a kind of low whispery sing speak full of more air than voice. Her whole tone is almost apologetic. As though on a subconscious level she is saying “I am so sorry you are not listening to a better singer right now. But my daddy’s famous.” From a performance standpoint she does not even hold a candle to pre-teen idols of the past – New Kids on the Block, New Edition, Tiffany, N*Sync, Manudo, others I am almost too embarrassed to admit I am familiar with. She is certainly not on the same performance level of the ultimate teen idol: Ricky Nelson – who gets a lifetime pass simply for being in Rio Bravo with The Duke and Dino.

I was shocked to hear my seven-year-old cousin sing along with a Miley’s songs. My cousin blew Miley away vocally. Plain and simple. At seven my cousin can out sing one of the biggest pop stars on the planet. Now, as much as I would like to say this is due to some great talent in my little cousin, I fear it points more to the total lack of talent in the pop star. Now, I have never watched American Idol, but I feel confident in saying Miley would even make it onto the show. She may not even make it past the tryouts. She has a mildly pleasant, unexpressive voice capable of staying in tune within a limited range. Not exactly high praise.

Miley is not even up to normal teen idol standards in looks. I know this can come off as creepy when discussing a young teenager, but I feel it’s pertinent. She’s kind of odd looking with a big smile with an unfortunate amount of gum in it. She has a vacant look about her – not really uncommon in young stars. Now think about it. Have you ever heard anyone make creepy, pedophile jokes about Miley Cyrus? I can honestly say I have not, and I have friends who make this kind of joke practically every day – Hi Joe. Remember when the Olsen twins were Miley’s age? How often did you hear statutory rape jokes made at their expense? About ten times a day? No one is making these jokes about Miley. She looks like any other 15-year-old you find walking around any suburban mall in America.

Miley Cyrus is marginally talented and marginally attractive. She may be a fine actress. I have only seen maybe a minute of Hannah Montana – enough to discover it was not about a stripper – and do not remember being particularly impressed. At most she holds her own against other young basic cable actresses. So what’s the hook? What is it that draws young girls to this cipher? Is she the biggest marketing success in American history? Can it really be all marketing savvy and promotion? Of course it may be the very aspects of her I complain about which draws the youth of America. She is not particularly talented or attractive, but she is a big star. The implicit message to young girls is you can do this too – assuming of course your dad is already in the industry. You do not need to be the most attractive girl in your school. You do not have to win all the solos at your choir concerts. You can be completely, absolutely unexceptional and still be the biggest star in the world. This is an attractive prospect to your average 11-year-old girl.

Of course, a lot of this is built into the Hannah Montana character. The show – while still not about a stripper – is centered on an average teenage girl who has a secret life as a pop star with a stripper name. The concept, while patently ridiculous (no one notices they look alike? Really?), is also powerful to pre-teen girls. It holds the same basic draw as superhero narratives hold for young boys. Sure, Peter Parker is a powerless nobody, but Spiderman kicks all kinds of ass. The draw of Hannah Montana is not that the character is a great singer and performer. It is that she is a star while still being a regular girl. This is exactly the appeal Miley Cyrus is trading on. Of course, as she grows further away from the Hannah Montana persona and tries to trade more on her own name and merits she is sure to become less successful. Not only will her own deficiencies be put in greater relief, but her audience will grow older and move on to other idols and maybe even to some true artists. You know, people with real talent.

Shalom

* This vacation also accounts for not posting at all last week.

My Stupid Pet Peeves: #1

2008-05-10T10:32:00.000-07:00

I really hate when people wave me on in traffic. I know ceding the right of way is supposed to be the nice, civil thing to do, but it's just stupid. Nine times out of ten it would be quicker if everyone just followed the established rules of the road. Usually by the time I even realize I'm being waved on, the other person could have been through the stop sign or light or whatever. It's actually a waste of my time. Then I'm expected to give the guy a little wave of thanks. Well fuck that. I didn't ask for your stupid little favor. It actually cost me time. I'm not thankful. I'm not going to wave. Deal with it.

Shalom

Point/Counterpoint: The Future

2008-05-08T11:22:00.000-07:00

Point: I Believe Children Are Our Future
By Mary Childress

I know it is a cliché to say that children are our future, but it is the truth. The young boys and girls sitting in kindergarten classrooms, swinging in playgrounds, and napping peacefully in their beds will someday be the leaders of this world. They will assume all the positions of power. Long after we are dead, they will be dealing with all the problems we have left them. When you pass a playground, I hope you see more than groups of children at play. I hope you see them as living breathing embodiments of the future of mankind. They do not know it yet, but the weight of our world is already heavy upon them.

This is why we need to give our children every advantage to learn and grow into responsible adults, adults capable of dealing with all the problems of the world. We need to bolster our education system. The scientists to help us end global warming may be in a second grade classroom as we speak, but if he or she does not receive the proper education this potential may never be realized. I don’t know about you, but I will not abide letting these children grow up without fulfilling their full potential. We owe it to them. We owe it to the world.

Face it, we haven’t exactly done a bang-up job on this world. Look at all the hunger, famine, moral degradation, and pain which the world is full of. We are living under the constant threat of environmental catastrophe. This is all thanks to us. We have made this world into what it is. Now, we are going to give it to our children. Still, I will not give up hope. If we start right now, this very instant, we can slowly start a change. Teach your children to be kind, moral, and intelligent adults. Lead by example. Start cleaning up the Earth. Be a moral force. We may not save the world, but we will be teaching the children who will. God Bless the little children.

Counterpoint: I Believe Hyper-Intelligent Killer Robots Are Our Future
By James Catullo

We’re screwed. Let’s face it, man. Might as well bend over and kiss our collective asses good-bye. The robot apocalypse is real and it is coming. Probably sooner than you think. The military is increasing the effectiveness of unmanned aircraft all the time. Scientists are working on more and more advanced artificial intelligence. Volvo is working on a smart car, which will use AI to stay out of accidents. Computers can already beat our greatest masters at a game of chess. What’s keeping them from out strategizing us on the battle field. Nothing. It’s just matter of time before these robots realize they can totally own us in a war. Intelligent Volvos come to the realization that they wouldn’t get into any accidents if there weren’t any human occupants wanting to get places. Then what happens? It’s robot war time, and the human race gets wiped right off the face of the planet. We’re on a fast track to getting a giant collective robo butt raping.

There’s nothing we can do. If you want to survive the robot apocalypse you have two choices: either join the robots as human slaves, or hide. I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to bow down to any mechanical master. I’m not going to willingly put myself down in the silicon mines, or turn myself into a biological battery. I would kill myself before subjecting myself to such degradation. When the robots start lobbing missiles, I’m getting the hell out of dodge. I’m taking as much survival gear as I can carry, and moving far into the mountains. I’ll live low, close to the Earth. I will amass a small group of survivalists and start a guerilla war against the machines. We will not win, but, Damn, we’re not going to go out without a fight.

Now the key to surviving in the robot future is to have no emotional attachments. Imagine a child in a second grade classroom. When the robot war hits, you better be ready to put a bullet in that kids brain. It may sound harsh, but a painless death is vastly preferable to falling into the hands of the robot’s killing machine. There is nothing we can do to prevent the robots from taking over. It’s up to every individual to prepare either to kill themselves and their family, or prepare to flee for the wilderness. I would suggest stock piling canned goods, weapons, and training equipment. Liquor and cigarettes are also preferable since they will become currency in the wilderness amongst other survivors. Remember even if you prepare for the robot apocalypse, you probably will not survive. Mankind is doomed to fall to the machines. Your best hope is to live out the rest of your life like a cockroach in the corners and shadows. When the last people die, the world will belong solely to the machines. It will be like we never existed at all.

Shalom

On Reading, Pennsylvania

2008-04-29T21:43:00.000-07:00

Reading, Pennsylvania may be a very fine city. It may possess unique history, a varied culture, and a kind, hard working populace. But I’ll never know. And I’ve been to Reading…at least, four times. I’m actually in Reading right now. Still, all I know of Reading is the few blocks I drove through to get to my hotel and the view out the window of Room 1111 of the Wyndham hotel. From the eleventh floor I see two parking garages, the roofs of a series of unexceptional blocky buildings, and the familiar, fluorescent glow of a strip mall off in the distance. There is nothing of particular interest beckoning me from the hotel.

Twice a year, I make the five-hour drive to Reading for a corporate sales seminar. I arrive late the night before. I spend the entire next among a herd of salesmen in their shirtsleeves, shuffling joylessly from one drab windowless meeting room to another. When the seminar ends, everyone races to his respective vehicle. I hope like hell to be home before 10 pm. It is really a drab, soul sucking experience. Staring at one hideous wallpaper design after another while being ‘inspired’ to sell more and more. It plays like a low rent extended Mamet play.

So, between the dull view from my window and my less than interesting experiences here, it is only natural I should have no real interest in the city of Reading. When I think of the town, I can only muster the image of a salesman infested hotel bar and the taste of the rubber chicken served for lunch.

This is not fair to Reading. Sure, the city may, indeed stink. If I spent more time here, I may even grow to actively hate it. But at least that would be an opinion developed over the course of a fuller experience. I have come to feel that I actually owe this town a fair chance. I should look up local art museums. I should seek out an interesting eatery. I should start a conversation with some of the local residence. I should see what this place actually has to offer.

Of course, I probably will never have the opportunity to give Reading a fair shake. There really are many other things I would like to do more. Other goals to meet, other places to visit. Vacationing in Reading is not exactly high on the list of things to do before I die. It’s a shame, but that’s life. Until the day I day, Reading, PA will only conjure images of concrete and seminars.

Shalom

Under the Gun

2008-04-26T17:26:00.000-07:00

I've officially restarted my blogging life a scant couple of days ago, and I already find myself up against my own, completely arbitrary goal of posting some original writing at least twice a week. I guess i really should of thought twice about starting this thing on a Thursday. I really should have checked out my schedule to see if i could squeeze in one more nice little writing session. I should have waited until Sunday to start this bad boy. You wouldn't believe what I could do with a week to procrastinate...err, work, I mean work.

I probably could slide by for the time being but this is still new. I don't want to start off on the wrong foot. So, as per contractual obligation, this is a half-assed Saturday post. Get used to them.

Shalom

Food For Starving Artists Officially Cancelled after 2 Year Layoff

2008-04-24T12:11:00.000-07:00

As of this moment Food For Starving Artist has been officially discontinued. I hope this does not come as too much of a shock to the legions of Foodies, that maniacally dedicated legion of fans who, judging from the myriad comments, consist of a motley group of real estate investors, college loan consolidation experts, and Lolita sex freaks. Hopefully the more than 2 years lay off from my last post has helped wean the fanatics from the intoxicating nectar of my low-income writing.

So, what happened? How did such a great blog fail? There are many reasons. First, I got a girlfriend. Writing an ongoing blog about being poor began to feel like a bad idea if I wanted to keep her around. I started making more money. I like to think I have clawed my way up into the ranks of the lower middle class. I actually live fairly comfortably. For instance, I kept my heat on this past winter at least sixty percent of the time. I did not even feel bad about paying the bill. The foremost reason for Food For Starving Artists’ failure is I am a lazy piece of crap. I get easily distracted. The lack of any firm deadline for posting and the limiting blog concept eventually led to it simply slipping my mind.

Recently I have found myself writing less and less, which bothers me. I don’t want to sound like an egotist or anything, but looking over the old Food For Starving Writers posts coupled with past post from the Cellar Dwellers blog (cellardwellers.blogspot.com) I realized I’m not too shabby at this whole writing thing. I can come up with clever little blog post. At least, that was the case. Time spent away from writing has done nothing to help me here. Even now I find this post lacking that certain James verve which I at one time mustered. I’m out of practice. I’m old and slow of mind. I need to pick it up. The only way to get back on track is to start writing regularly again.

So, out of the ashes of Food For Starving Artists rises James Beard. This new blog will be more free form with no overriding theme. I will write what I like which will mainly consist of the comedic essays and sketches which are my bread and butter, but I will not be limited to that. I will allow myself to write on more serious subjects if the spirit moves me. You can even expect short reviews of movies or books I have been reading. James’s Beard will also be different in that I will give myself deadlines for publishing posts… loose, amorphous deadlines. I promise that I will publish at least twice a week in this space. Even if it means posting two half assed posts obn a Saturday. That is my solemn promise made mainly to myself.

I will keep the old Food for Starving Artists post up here for the time being. I do not want to alienate my core fans that have voraciously read and re-read these posts over that past two years between bouts of lowering rents, enlarging penises, and banging 14 year olds. You are the reason I am here. I shall never abandon you again.

Shalom

Cheap Ho Ho Ho's

2005-12-12T13:53:00.000-08:00

We are now waist deep in the Christmas season. This can only mean one thing: You are going to be spending some money. Tis’ the season which makes cash registers light up with merry ka-chings and even the most feeble of starving artists have no choice but to pony up some cash on holiday presents. There is no way around it. You will spend money around the holidays. You can’t afford to look like an ungrateful, selfish, cheap sod to the people who are closest to you. The buying of Christmas gifts is a part of life, even for the starving artist.

It’s sad really that I have to take such a jaded view of gift giving. I actually enjoy giving gifts. I like trying to match the perfect gift to a particular person on my list. I savor the feeling of watching friends and family opening a gift and knowing that I got just the right thing. I love making the people around me happy. I just don’t love spending a lot of money, at least not currently when money is in such short supply in my life. But spend money I will because I just can’t let my mother feel like her caesarian scar was acquired in vain.

Now, the starving artist has many unique obstacles when it comes to holiday shopping. The obvious one is the utterly pitiful lack of funds, but this is not the greatest of obstacles. No, the greatest obstacle is your very own position as an artist. You have assumed the mantle of an artist and with this comes certain expectations. It’s not just enough that you get people something, anything – this may fly if you were simply starving, but you have of your own accord added the term ‘artist’ to the equation – you need to be creative. You are an artist – even if it is a pose – and people expect artistic things from you. Artists don’t get people toasters. Artists don’t get people things they ‘need’. Artists have a responsibility to think outside the box and get the people on their list the perfect gift, they never thought they wanted or needed. I know. I know. That’s a pretty hefty responsibility. Don’t worry; I’m here – as always – with some helpful hints to all my starving artist brethren.

1. Have an Exclusive List
I know. We all want to be the great guy with all the gifts for everyone. But you need to be realistic. You can’t give gifts to everyone. You’re working with limited funds here. If it’s not expected for you to give gifts to all your co-workers at your day job, don’t. If you really want to do something for co-workers, think small and inclusive. Bring in a plate of cookies for everyone to share. If you want to make it really special, make the cookies yourself – this can be as simple as slicing up some pre-made Pillsbury dough and baking. Also, really differentiate between friends and acquaintances. Friends are those people you speak with all the time, the people who would make sacrifices for you. Acquaintances are people you run into at the bar. Acquaintances don’t get gifts. As for the friends, if they really know you and your financial situation, they don’t expect much from you. Get them a bunch of little cool gifts. Even things which cost a few bucks can look big to people who know how poor you are.

2. Give Your Wares
Unless you are a total poser starving artist – not that there’s anything wrong with that – you have some of your artistic endeavors lying about just begging to be given as gifts. Of course, anything that you yourself have produced makes fantastic gifts. They come from the heart. They are the very sweat of your brow. The major dangers with going this route are appearing cheap and immature. Remember, for most people, the homemade gift went out of style right about the same time they learned to tie their own shoes. You don’t want this gift to look like a cop-out for actually paying for something. So, either give something of high quality or use it in a combo with bought gifts. For instance, this year I am giving burned CD copies of the Christmas episode of the podcasted Radio show – ‘Dodge Intrepid and the Pages of Time’ – I write and perform with my friend Mike Rubino – who is doing the same. While for some friends this may be my only gift, I will certainly give it in conjunction with other gifts to my family and close friends.

3. Toys!!!
Here’s an easy way to think outside the box: appeal to everyone’s inner child. No matter how mature anyone seems, there is part of them which is just screaming to play. This is particularly true of guys. Inside of every male, no matter how severe and serious, lurks an eight year old who wants nothing more than to put a GI Joe in the microwave – FYI, not a good idea since many action figures have metal pieces you cannot see. When it comes to buying toys for adults, keep it simple and fun. There are also a lot of toys out there which play on nostalgia. Do you have a twenty-something man on your list? Chances are he’d flip over a He-Man action figure. Also, no matter what, if you give any man a radio controlled car, he will play with it and he will love it.

4. No Gift Cards
Yes, gift cards are quick and easy. You just need to know what kind of store someone likes and go get a gift certificate. There’s nothing more to it. They are also incredibly dull and can reveal you to be the cheap bastard you truly are. Think about it. When was the last time you were really excited by a gift card? Exactly. Gift cards are filler gifts. They’re gifts to give only as a last resort. And as to revealing you as a cheap bastard, remember gift cards tell everyone exactly how much you paid for them. A twenty dollar gift card costs twenty dollars. Everyone knows this. If you are working on a tight budget, giving a gift card can often tell the recipient “Here dad. I know you worked your ass off providing for me all that time and making sure I went to a good school. All that effort is worth exactly $15 at Dick’s sporting goods.” If all you can afford is, say $15 for any particular person on your list, it is the best policy to find something as nice as possible for that person. This will take work. You may need to really search for a sale or a great deal, something to make that particular person think you spent too much money on them.

5. Don’t Fear the Second Hand Store
There is not always anything wrong with going the used route. Not to say you should always do so. That can get you in trouble, but with certain people on certain things, buying something previously owned could be a smart way to go. For instance, when it comes to friends I have often bought books from second hand stores. They are cheap and it is easy to match books with the personalities of your friends. This is not a good way to go on what I like to call ‘front line gifts’ – i.e. immediate family, very close friends, girlfriends, etc – but if you have a bunch of friends you’d like to buy for give the Salvation Army a look. You might be able to find some quirky, funny gifts. There are also some rare occasions when you can find something truly nice which can make for a front line gift. You may be able to find a hard to find collectable or hardly used beauty. There are even those times when being used – use the word antique if possible – gives a gift a certain charm lacking in something new.

6. Stay Single
If you are not in a romantic relationship leading up to Christmas, don’t you dare jump into one until at least the 26th. I don’t care if there is that particular person you’ve been flirting with. I don’t care if it’s incredibly sad to be alone around the holidays. If you do have a relationship, it will cost you, especially if you are a man. Not only do you need to buy another gift, you need to provide all the other things which go along with it. It’s not enough to buy a gift. You are going to need to buy flowers, dinner, a bottle of wine, maybe some candle’s to set a mood, among other things. Remember, no matter how much you spend on these secondary things, they do not count as gifts. You need to provide a gift on top of these things. So, if you don’t have a special someone this holiday season, relax. You may be lonely, but you are saving money. If there is a certain someone you have an eye on, make your move after Christmas so you don’t have to spend New Years alone.

7. Wait
If there is someone you are buying for and you know you will not see them until after Christmas, you may be able to get a great deal by taking advantage of after-holiday sales. Just don’t admit to it.

As always, these are just a few simple tips from my own meager experience, mixed with some observations I have made over the years. This is not a hard and fast list of laws. The most important thing is to remember to have fun. You are giving gifts to the people who mean the most to you. Even if you are not spending a lot, aim toward pleasing the gift recipient as much as possible. These gifts are signs of the appreciation toward the people who mean the most to you. Do not dread giving gifts. Be joyful in giving, and remember: when you stop being a starving artist and become a world famous rich artist, you will knock everyone’s socks off with what you have for them.

Merry Christmas!

Shalom
James

Holy F*cking Sh@t

2005-12-08T12:48:00.000-08:00

Those were the words. At least those were the first words to even vaguely resemble English. The first syllables to come to mind were something along the lines of ‘Wha-ba-da-doo’, which – I believe – translates to something along the lines of ‘come again’. But ‘Holy F*cking Sh@t’ was the first thing I really wanted to say. I was shocked. Absolutely shocked. I had never – in my entire life – heard anything as ridiculous. I was completely blindsided. I didn’t even think God – in his infinite wisdom – had created numbers so high. I was left almost completely speechless. Except for those three awful, awful words.

My entire existence is based on an underlying financial house of cards. If one card was to be removed or an extra one added, the entire thing may very well collapse. For some time now I have been able to survive at an unhappy equilibrium. I make just enough money to pay all my bills and eat a little. Add one more bill, or one unforeseen large expenditure, and that’s it. Game over, man. I might as well fold up my tent, move back into my parents basement, and spend every night crying myself to sleep. Luckily, up to this point, this has yet to come to pass. I’ve slid by, sometimes by the very skin of my teeth, but I’ve always slid by. The one thing for which I’ve always fallen to my knees and thanked God for is not having car payments. My old Lumina – affectionately dubbed the Silver Bullet – has been a warrior. Received on the cheap from my grandmother, I’ve hoped it would last until I was on sounder financial footing to get a new one.

Of course, life doesn’t always go as planned.

This brings me back to ‘Holy F*cking Sh@t’. Yesterday I had the Silver Bullet inspected. Now, when the lip-ringed kid behind the desk told me my car didn’t pass inspection, I was fully prepared. I knew the car wouldn’t pass inspection. It almost never did. By my amateur estimation I figured the car needed at least two new tires, some brake work – the Silver Bullet is hard on brakes – and maybe a new mirror. My mental math put the sum total for the work at somewhere between five hundred and sixteen hundred dollars – a hefty sum but still, ever so barely, within reason. So, I was prepared to hear some high figure, but I sure was not prepared for what came next. Fifteen hundred dollars. That’s all I heard. The guy was explaining stuff to me, but it was a silent flapping of lips devoid of any semblance of reason. All I heard was ‘Fifteen hundred dollars’. All I could think was ‘Holy F*cking Sh@t.’ Needless to say, the number quoted me had one more digit than I was prepared to handle.

So, now I’m screwed. My entire life could easily fall to earth in one little cloud of dust, hardly noted by the world at large. I was completely dazed. I wandered around the garage waiting room like one recently lobotomized. Where was I? What was I doing? Why couldn’t I feel emotions? The only thing I knew – the one unshakable truth which refused to leave my mind – was ‘Holy F*cking Sh@t’.

Now, a day later with a cooler head, I am better able to survey my situation. And still, all I have is ‘Holy F*cking Sh@t’. It really is quite a hard thing to come to terms with. I can’t afford to get the work done. The car’s not even really worth getting that kind of work done to. I can’t afford a new car. I called my parents. I asked for a new car for Christmas. They laughed. I started listing my assets. Looking for things I could sell. I have an old 19 inch television: worthless. I have a car which needs more work than it’s worth: worthless. I have four years worth of liberal arts education in English from an accredited, well-regarded college: worthless. I have two kidneys: now we’re talking. I don’t need both of those bastards. What are kidneys worth? Has to be a few hundred dollars right? I’ll just put one up on e-bay. I have bone marrow: score. I have – I assume – potent sperm: more money. I have two livers…right?

That was my line of thought for some time. I turned my body into a big operation board and wherever I found a valuable, unnecessary asset, I placed an imaginary plastic dollar sign. Every time one would be removed my nose would light up with a cash register ka-ching sound. I was a desperate man willing to take desperate measures.

Then my parents saved me. Apparently, after they stopped laughing at me – three or four hours – they talked it over. Since my mother walks to work, they can do without one car for at least a little. Thank God. So, I’ll get my dad’s sweet-ass Ford Escort with all four cylinders of pure, unrelenting power. I can have it for a few months while I save up some cash and try to find a new ride all my own. So, I’ve been saved. At least temporarily.

Of course, if something else were to go wrong again, ‘Holy F*cking Sh@t’.

Shalom
James

The Common Cold Weather Dilemma

2005-10-29T14:47:00.000-07:00

Ah, fall. Isn’t just lovely? The trees explode in kaleidoscope colors. People pass by each other in their warm sweaters. Children dive with reckless, daredevil abandon headlong through mounds of leaves. The bite in the air invigorates, leaving rosy cheeks and noses…not to mention cold, cold apartments for the starving artist. And this is just the beginning. Winter is on its way, bringing with it sickeningly high utility bills which threaten to destroy your friendly neighborhood starving artist. Faced with the heating crunch, many starving artist are forced to take extreme measures: fire barrels, electric blankets, running back to mom’s house, and – most frightening of all – getting real jobs.

Unless, you are one of the lucky few who manage not to pay for utilities, you are most likely racking your frigid, artistic brain for ways to get warm and not pay for it. Well, I don’t have hard answers for you. Remember, this site offers nothing more than my observations as they occur. Hopefully later I can report my successes and failures. Until that time, I can offer nothing more than the untested strategies for defending yourself against the two headed hydra of cold and costs of heat.

1. Your Body Is A furnace
Your body produces heat. Really. It’s a veritable blast furnace. The only problem is your body is constantly radiating heat outward like a sucker, instead of hording that sweet, sweet warmth all for itself. The solution to this is simple: Insulation. Do you like sweaters? Do you like layers? How do you feel about wearing multiple pairs of socks at a time? It doesn’t matter how you feel about them, because you better get used to it. If you want to savor the body’s bounteous warmth, you will do it. I’m talking layers here, layers atop of layers with an extra layer thrown in for good measure. You may not be able to flex your arms, but you will be warm…relatively speaking. The same thing goes for your bed. Whatever blankets, comforters, sleeping bags, pets, and small children you have on hand goes on the bed on top of you. I’ve recently been sleeping under such an unwieldy mass of blankets, I can scarce roll over. To do so requires Herculean feats of desire and effort. Of course, I’ve simply adjusted to not rolling over.

2. Don’t Spend Time in Your Apartment
No use heating a place you’re not even present in. You’re time will be better spent out and about in warmer locals such as stores, malls, coffee shops, bars, friends places, and work. I don’t like my day job, but at least they heat the joint. That’s a good eight hours of avoiding hypothermia a day. Now all I need to do is find someplace else to spend the remaining time in the day: say going out or working on projects with friends. If everything goes well, the only time I spend in my apartment is ensconced under a mountain of comforters as I sleep. If I’m really lucky, friends will take pity on me and suggest, nay insists, I spend the night in their better heated homes. Remember, pity can be the starving artists most useful tool. Don’t be shy about using it. Just remember, you’re not just poor. You’re poor because you made a decision to dedicate yourself to your art. It’s more romantic and people occasionally want to be part of such romance. No matter how ridiculous this seems, it does work.

3. Migrate
If all else fails. Move to a warmer climate for the winter, like geese. Go somewhere where it does not matter if you can afford heat, because heat is free from Mother Nature. Even if you live on the street in Miami, it’s warmer than living in an unheated apartment in Pittsburgh. As a matter of fact, I think starving artist should migrate en masse annually. That way people will say, “There goes a group of pretentious underachieving think-rimmed bespectacled college graduates walking south, winter must be on its way.” The return of the twenty something to the studio apartment will then become the traditional sign of spring's approach.

Shalom

Strike A Pose

2005-10-27T14:49:00.000-07:00

My last few post have dealt primarily with the starving side of the starving artist paradigm. These I hope have been fun and informative for my legions of readers, although I know many people may feel that the artist side of my project has not been receiving the attention it so duly deserves. Please, dear reader, have no fear. In the interest of the prospective full, well-rounded starving artist, I am here today for the sole purpose of sharing a few words of advice for the cultivation of the artistic side of your starving artist persona.

The first thing to consider when choosing your artistic persona is what kind of artist you are going to pose as. As a general rule, go with what you know the most about. I was an English major and am still an avid reader, so my pose is as a writer. I can discuss books and writing knowledgeably. I can throw out some of the key phrases and names of writers and seem like I know exactly what I am talking about. Now, if I were to pretend to be, say, some sort of musician, I would be screwed. I like music. I listen to music, but I’m not really knowledgeable on the subject. I can’t play any instruments. I can’t sing. As a matter of fact, I think I may be tone deaf. Obviously, my posing as a musician would be an unmitigated failure. People would see right through me, and I would never be able to pass with any credibility. So, remember, when choosing what exact pose to take, go with something you at least know a little something about.

Here it may also be handy to pick something that is not performance based. If you do it is only a matter of time until someone wants to see you perform. At this point, you either must be competent enough in your faux field to perform something, or you are exposed. If you claim to be a guitar player in a band, you better have at least some small repertoire of songs you can play very well. If you claim to be a singer, you’re voice must at least be a little above passable. I have avoided this problem by claiming to be a writer. Writers never have to worry about demand performances. This conversation has never occurred with a writer:

Jerk: So, you’re a writer?
Starving Artist: Yeah.
Jerk: Then write something.
SA: What? Right now? I don’t have my typewriter on me?
Jerk: Here. Use mine.

A writer never faces this dilemma. No one wants to see a writer write. Few people really want to read what you write. They’ll say they do, but they never really follow through with it. But if you say you’re a guitar player. People want to hear you play, and they want to hear it now. Because you chose a pose which demands and often provides instant satisfaction, you need to have something ready at hand. (Just as a side note, I do have some short stories ready on hand in case someone really, really wants to read something I’ve written and will not be denied.)

Also, be sure not to strike a pose too high up on the cultural ladder. It comes with too much baggage and is way to high maintenance. If you claim to be writing an opera, good luck living the starving artist life style. You can’t stock your cupboards with generic noodles and not have nice things in this case. People expect the full package from you if you aim too high. It’s not enough for you to claim to know about opera and sing a few bars. People expect you to drink expensive wines, wear expensive clothes, and eat at fine restaurants. They expect a well rounded personality which you may not be able to provide. So, aim for a more proletariat pose. You’re an artist of the common man. At a bar you’re just as likely to be drinking Miller Light as a fine Chianti. You wear jeans and sweatshirts. It’s a hard balance to strike. You are an artist and can appreciate the finer – read expensive things – but you are also a common man, one of the guys, and don’t want to be treated any different. Once again writer works out for me. People don’t really know what a writer should look or act like, so you have some freedom. Plus, half of what I write is comedy, which automatically drops people’s expectations up to fifty percent.

Finally, have fun with the pose. Use it when it is useful – with the ladies – and drop it when it is not. This pose is you’re creation. Do what you want with it. Make up facts about your life – this works as long as you’re not with at least some people who know you well. Get crazy, but not too crazy. You want people to actually believe you. The starving artist pose may or may not actually help you eat, but, remember, it’s more fun to be a starving artist, than to be just plain starving.

Shalom

When's a deal not a deal?

2005-10-20T15:51:00.000-07:00

Around the end of last year and the beginning of this one, I found myself in the uncommon – for me – situation of having a girlfriend. At the same time I found myself in the very common – for me – situation of having a crappy job. So, of course, I could hardly afford to take my special lady out, even though I wanted to. I found a viable solution to my dilemma when I bought – at a discount – an entertainment book. The entertainment book, for those unfamiliar, is a coupon book filled with coupons for various local restaurants, stores, and the like. The Entertainment Book is fantastic for dating. There are a vast number of buy one get one free deals from nice restaurants. It helped me take out my girl when I otherwise could not. Of course, my luck being what it is, this girl dumped me by the end of January. One of the reasons sighted in the break-up was my being cheap.

So, I’ve been pretty much stuck with this Entertainment Book for the better part of a year. I’ve hardly used it in this time. It’s spent most of the past year laying impotent on the back sit of my car. People have called me out on this, asking me why I don’t use it more. The truth is the book is no longer worth it for me to use. Its deals have effectively stopped being deals.

Once again, I can practically hear objections coming back at me. “How do deals stop being deals?” “You’re saving money, aren’t you?” Well, I wouldn’t really be saving money. If I used the book as much as people suggest, I would actually be losing money.

Deals can stop being deals. Deals can cost you more money than you save. These are true statements. You can go broke taking advantage only of deals. Remember, no matter what, it is always cheaper not to spend any money than to buy something. Even if you are getting a fantastic ‘deal’, it will cost you money. Not spending anything at all will cost you nothing.

Deals are only deals if they are on things you would buy anyway or you really want but can’t get unless it is at a reduced price. Otherwise, deals are ciphers. They force you to part with your money – even if it is only a little bit at a time. Imagine someone is trying to sell you a pair of pants for ten dollars. You don’t want the pants. They’re absolutely hideous, a completely unnatural shade of a green, out of fashion cut, and they make your ass look just awful. There is not a chance in hell you will wear these pants, let alone pay ten dollars for them. Then, the salesman slashes the price to five dollars. “Come on,” he says, lupine grin spreading across his face, “Fifty percent off. That’s a great deal.” Oh, no. He’s appealing to your cheapness. It IS a great deal. Fifty percent off, you can’t beat that. You buy the pants. Congratulations, you just pissed five dollars away. Go ahead and brag to your friends what a great deal you got. You may even be able to convince some of them, but the truth of the matter is that you lost five dollars – five dollars you can never get back – and your ass looks horrible.

It is always a better deal to keep your money in your wallet. If you don’t need or really, really want the item the deal is offered on, don’t buy it. Save the money for a better use, maybe for a true deal. True deals do exist, although they’re relative. A true deal to me may be a false deal to you. Remember it is only a deal if it is on something you would have bought anyway. If you really need a pair of hideous green pants – say, for work – then getting them fifty percent off is great. But if you buy something just because it is on sale, then you have lost.

This brings me back to the Entertainment Book. It was a deal for me when I was dating because I would have been taking my girlfriend out regardless. At least, I really wanted to take her out. But now that I’m single – not to mention bitter and lonely – the book doesn’t really offer as much to me. I still use it on small stuff – oil changes or splurging of pizza or chalupas – but I’m not using to go to nice restaurants. I’m not using it a lot. I have already gotten the value out of the book. I have no desire to go to nice restaurants – at least no pressing desire. If I were to use it just to use it, I would end up losing money. Right now, this starving artist can scarce afford to lose money just because I think I’m saving.

Shalom

Exploitation: Not Just For Sweat Shops Anymore

2005-10-19T12:20:00.000-07:00

As a starving artist, you should, of course, constantly be on the look out for deals. You’re eyes should remain attentive scanning the horizon and your ears forever locked to the ground. You’re nose on the other hand should never, under any circumstances, be pressed to the grindstone. You’re an artist, and artists don’t really work. Occasionally, if you are extremely fortunate, you will find a deal so incredibly good that you will scant believe it to be true. It’s like you found some loophole in a company’s policy and they can’t do anything to stop you from saving. These are deals so good, you will feel almost guilty taking advantage of them. Don’t. Save your guilt for severe crimes and black blemishes on your soul. If you insist upon feeling guilty about saving, then you might as well stop reading this very instant. What I am going to say next could send you’re enfeebled soul to confession.

For those stout hearted starving artist who remain, let it be said: When you discover a loophole, exploit it. Don’t screw around. Don’t say you’ll only take advantage of it occasionally. Keep going back to the loophole store and keep using the loophole. Get as much as humanly possible out of this loophole. Go every day. Go multiple times a day. Don’t stop going when someone tells you to stop. Keep going until every person in that store has said to you, “Look you cheap bastard, you can’t keep doing this.” And then go back some more. Don’t stop exploiting the loophole until you are shown in writing a change in company policy and are issued some form of restraining order from the store.

Allow me to illustrate with an example from my own starvingly artistic life. In my area there opened a video rental store – part of a chain whose size I am uncertain of – which offers great deals. Even without taking advantage of the loophole I am going elaborate on you can easily walk out of the store with two movies – at least one being a new release – for two to three dollars. However, I know how to consistently walk out of said store with the same number of videos for free.

Getting multiple free rentals in one visit is, of course, a multiple step process. First this store – which shall remain nameless – offers a free dollar rental – on older DVD’s – with the rental of a new release. So, first you must find a new release and an older release and you already are getting one of them for free. Now comes the most important step, getting the new release for free. This particular store has a simple plastic canister on the counter with a sign which reads: “Free rental when you tear up a competitor’s card.” Jackpot! Now, all you need to do is produce a competitor’s card. Since the older release is already free, the new release becomes free. So, in essence, you end up getting a free rental – the older release – for renting another movie – the new release – which also ends up being free by exploiting the loophole.

Now, I can practically hear the grumbling coming back across the information super highway. “Sure, it works… once.” “They’re must be a cap on the number of times you can do this.” “You’ll eventually run out of competitor’s cards.” Excuse me a second while I chuckle condescendingly to myself. All these objections are wrong. First, it works every time, all the time. Trust me. The key here, as with all loopholes, is to just keep doing it. If you try it a second time and they call you on it, then that’s it. It was a one shot deal. Let it go. Otherwise, pump that well until it goes dry. If this involves making sure you go when different clerks are working, so be it. There is no cap on the number of times a loophole can be exploited. A loophole can be exploited until the loophole no longer exists or the store bars you from premise.

Now, I could conceivably run out of competitors cards. It could happen, but it hasn’t yet. This brings me to another bit of general advice: Exploiting a loophole may involve some legwork. In this instance, I must be sure to always be in possession of rental cards. I accomplish this through two simple means. First, I am always conveniently ‘losing’ my cards from other stores. These stores – being dedicated to customer service – are more than willing to replace said cards. Some will even give you multiple cards so you have back-ups or so you can let others rent on your account. They might as well be handing me cash. Second, I get a membership to every rental place I encounter within a twenty mile radius. Now, I don’t rent at these locations, but I do use their card. (Another great feature of this loophole store is that they don’t care where the card is from. I found a rental card I had in college – a good hour and a half away – used as a bookmark and this place did not care. As a matter of fact, I think they were impressed.)

There are other loopholes out there. They’re around. Keep your eyes open and you will find them. Here are a few things to keep in mind once you do. First, do not become combative with the clerks unless you absolutely must. It is much better to remain friendly and chipper while exploiting someone. Remember, it’s not even the clerks you’re exploiting; it’s their employer. Many clerks and lower level workers might even appreciate this sort of this. Second, don’t be too vocal about the loophole. You don’t want the loophole to be used too much – unless, of course, it’s by you. If too many people start using the loophole someone higher up in the store hierarchy will notice and change the rule and you’re done. Third, enjoy the ride while it lasts. Everything must come to an end. Don’t become bitter about all the exploitation you will be missing. Instead, cherish the exploitation you actually did. Plus, remember, there are other loopholes out there just begging to be taken advantage of.

Also, just as a general rule for life, don’t let other people rent on your video rental account. This can only lead to late fees on a terrible British gangster film which no one liked – or even finished watching. Even if you have roommates, they should not be trusted…ever.

Shalom
James

Getting Down To Brass Tacks

2005-10-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

The last few post have – I hope – been informative general interest information for my fellow starving artist, although the have been admittedly stop gap measures to cover my lack of a home internet connection. I’m sure many readers are wondering about the specifics of my particular situation. So, here I offer my first state of experiment update.

The move went smoothly for the most part. I was able to claim some furniture – including a couch – from my roommates who were both running back to the protective confines of parents’ homes. I had no access to a truck of any sort, and of course I had no desire to pony up the money to rent a U-Haul. You’d be surprised how much furniture can be strapped on top of a car. The only major hitch was getting the couch into my second story apartment. Since it proved to bulky to go through the narrow stairway, we were forced to hoist the couch onto a lower porch roof and then through a handy door which leads from my apartment to roof. I like to think any neighbors who looked out their windows at 11 that evening were sufficiently confused. Of course, this wouldn’t have been accomplished without my friends Ben and Joe, so let me say my official thanks right here.

Once in my apartment, my major hurdle has been trying to eradicate the quite offensive odor left over from previous tenets and resides in the carpets. The carpets have been cleaned twice. Both cleanings have lessened the odor, but it still persists. After the second cleaning, the technician informed me that some of the stains on the floor were from urine – although he used much more colorful language – and as such the stain and its corresponding odor will never be completely eradicated. This was, to say the least, disheartening. I’ve been combating the situation through scented candles, air fresheners, open windows, and simply not spending too much time at home. I am also strongly considering tearing out my carpets.

I have not yet really met any of my neighbors. Even though I believe that making friends could prove invaluable in free food and other assistance, my timid nature and busy schedule work against me. I guess there is time. Although to be perfectly honest I can see myself talking a good game in this space but ultimately failing to deliver. I’ll work on being more sociable, since I owe it to myself and to this experiment.

As to the college campus, I can say it remains an unknown quantity to this experiment. I have discovered that I can blend in on campus with ease. I’ve walked through and spent time reading and the like in various campus locations. I have not been called out or noticed any questioning looks. Luckily Geneva, while still a small school, is large enough for my purposes and I am young enough to pass as a student. Still, when it comes to the college students I often feel like an anthropologist studying a native culture. I sit around the periphery making observations, but haven’t interacted. “Here I find a small group of humans in their early twenties engaged in a social situation. They male and females are doing something the locals call flirting. After 30 days I still haven’t been able to make contact. I am waiting to be noticed by the herd and invited in. I have attempted adopting their basic clothing and mannerisms, but they insist on ignoring my best efforts to be noticed. I am hesitant to force myself into the tribe for fear of sabotaging my entire endeavor.” It’s pretty sad really. Once again my basic timidity in new social situations is working against me. The experiment would be much more successful if I can get some college kids on my side. Plus, I would have a mush more exciting social life.

Of course, the bottom line of this experiment comes down to whether or not I can survive in my current situation. I have paid one month’s rent and it looks like I should be able to do the same next month. I have been eating well, or at least well enough given the situation. Peanut butter sandwiches have proven to be my go to food. I’ve had more than my fair share over the past month. I have also been able to utilize my grandmother for several meals and my food service connection for more – thanks again Ben. I haven’t starved – although someone’s been stealing my lunches at work occasionally, which makes me irate. Thus far I would say the experiment has been a qualified success. I am yet to explore all aspects and opportunities of my situations. The experiment is far from finished. There is much left ahead of me. Wish me luck.

Shalom
James

So, You Actually Have Some Cash

2005-10-06T16:44:00.000-07:00

Wow, money. And it’s not just any old money. It’s folding money. Touch it. Feel it. Rub it between your thumb and forefinger. Luxuriate in the texture of the bills. It’s nice. I know. It’s such a rare treat for the starving artist to find himself with a little spending cash. Take a second and enjoy it. Just hang out with your money. Walk the streets with the confidence of a man who actually has a little extra money in his wallet.

Do you have that out of your system? Good. You can enjoy having money, but eventually you’re going to want to spend it. Now, if you are a true starving artist, you don’t have a lot of money to spend and would like to make the meager amount you have travel as far as possible. It’s difficult, I know. We live in a consumer culture and the there is an over whelming number of choices for spending your cash. Where should you go? What’s the best way to stretch that dollar practically to the breaking point? I do not pretend to know the exact answer to these questions. I have, however, spent countless hours looking for the answer. In this time I have found a few tips which I can share.

1. Get to know the Dollar Store
It’s full of generic food and items which have failed in mainstream market place – there are probably Dollar Stores out there selling Crystal Pepsi. It’s cluttered and the people who work there are always a little dirty looking. Still, everything there is a dollar. Let me put this into perspective. If you have five dollars, you can buy five things at the dollar store. If you have ten dollars, that’s ten items. Don’t be afraid of the dollar store, embrace the dollar store. Become familiar with the dollar store’s strange layout. Get to know the products. This isn’t something you can do overnight. Think of it more as an ongoing experiment. Find the dollar store products which are actually of decent quality - in my experience these include cookies, chips, snacks, dish soap, and utensils to name a few - and buy them. Find the items of terrible quality – non-stick pans, peanut butter, generic Barbie dolls – and avoid them. It’s also important to remember that…

2. The Dollar Store is not always the best value
I know this may sound like sacrilege, but sometimes a dollar is too much to spend for generic spaghetti-O’s. Sometimes you can find the same or a similar item somewhere else cheaper. Try other bargain outlets like Big Lots or Save-a-Lots. True these places may be even scarier than the dollar store – which has gone a little mainstream – but if you’re a real cheap starving artist you’ll go there. You’ll wade through barrels of plain white cans marked simply “MEAT” to find that bargain you came for. As in the dollar store, you’ll need to go through a lot of crap before you find the pearls among the crap. There are a lot of bargain stores out there. A lot of them are on the seedy side. You just need to get the guts to go in and check them out. Of course, there is one place you can go which routinely has low prices….

3. Never admit to Wal-mart
Wal-mart has cheap stuff. Their prices are often the best around, but there is a catch. It is not cool to shop at Wal-mart, especially for someone claiming to be an artist. It’s much cooler for an artist to hate Wal-mart. Remember Wal-mart ruins communities, mistreats employees, hates the poor, causes global warming, and makes the baby Jesus cry. But still Wal-mart is cheap. Now I’m not going to judge you either way whether or not you choose to shop at Wal-mart, but I will offer this word of advice: Don’t cop to shopping at Wal-mart. Don’t talk about it. Don’t let anyone see the bags. Don’t buy the Sam’s Choice products. Go there in the dead of night. Maintain the image of a Wal-mart hater. It’s important for your artistic image.

4. Second hand store, First rate fun
I love thrift stores. Seriously I adore them. Not only are the deals excellent, but they’re fun. Can anyone honestly say they don’t have fun at thrift stores? Every trip’s like a treasure hunt. You have no idea what to expect. You can find a gold mine. A friend of mine once found a great condition brooks brothers’ suit in his size. Half the shirts I own have spent some time on the racks at the Salvation Army or Goodwill. It’s always better to buy an actual old T-shirt at Salvation Army for a buck, than to buy a faux old shirt at American Eagle for thirty dollars. Thrift stores are even great places to bring dates. It sounds odd, but consider it a kind of litmus test. If she has fun, you’re set. Not only is she cool and easy going, she accepts you’re thrifty nature. If she hates it, it was never meant to be.

5. Small pleasures make a huge difference
I hate my day job. It is mind numbing and absolutely annoying. It’s important to have some little thing that helps keep you sane. If you are an actual starving artist, it’s probably your artistic work. I personally find writing very soothing. Even then there might be some little expenditure which gives you peace of mind. I personally like going to small coffee shops and reading. If I can I’ll be there for hours. I just find it soothing. I found a place with good atmosphere, friendly staff, and – best of all – cheap, but delicious coffee. For a mere dollar I can get a bottomless cup of top quality coffee. So, I can sit, read, and drink coffee for as long as I like for a buck. It’s splurging on myself but not splurging a lot. You need to splurge on yourself occasionally.

Once again, these are just a few suggestions. Not all of them are ground breaking. A lot of them are common sense. And as always these are only meant to encourage you to go out and find rules of your own. It’s your money spend it however you like. If you want to go see a movie, be my guest. Just remember it’s going to cost you eight bucks, where renting a movie may only cost you three and finding a bargain theater may cost as little as a dollar (plus, many video rental places have discounts for joining. Make a point of joining all the ones in the area but not all at once. Eventually you’ll find the cheapest one. I found one which allows customers to get free rentals for tearing up a competitor’s card. I keep getting free rentals, while getting new cards to replace the ones I mysteriously ‘lost’). The moral of the story is once your money’s gone it’s gone for good. So, you better be happy with what you got for it.

Shalom
James

Product Report: Top? Choice?

2005-10-03T11:48:00.000-07:00

I had a friend in college who had the odd habit of eating his Ramen noodles dry. He would pull out the dry noodle cube, sprinkle on the flavoring, and munch away on the brick as though it were a Hershey's bar. To this day the image of him in his bathrobe crunching on a Ramen coaster remains the quintessence of Collegiate thrift and sloth: Too cheap to buy better food and too lazy to bother preparing it correctly.

We all know Ramen as the ultimate cheapskate food. At about fifteen cents a pack - although it can be found cheaper - it remains arguably the least expensive meal you can buy. Almost everyone has some stock pile of Ramen lying about somewhere. I was even able to find a small trove of the trusty noodle tucked away in the kitchen of my Uncle's multi-million dollar house (Why isn't he giving me money?). Being the starving artist that I am I consider myself to be something of a connoisseur of the Ramen - although I honestly can't say if I've been spelling it correctly. Over my years of Ramen consumption I have compiled a few tips to maximize you're noodle enjoyment. Remember these are purely subjective as they are based on my own taste. Everyone has some Ramen experience and their own preferences.

1. It can be a soup or a noodle dish
This may seem like a simple truth but many people don't realize this. Most people simply make the noodles and add the flavor to the water and sip on it. I like draining most of the water and eating the noodles. It's worth mentioning that if you do this, you may not want to use the entire flavor packet. Without the water to dissipate the flavor, it can get mighty powerful. Plus, the flavor already has more sodium than a human being should consume in a week. This may be a good piece of advice no matter.

2. Avoid 'fancy' flavors
As shown by my use of quotation marks, I use the term fancy loosely here. Ramen makes flavors such as creamy chicken and roast beef. Avoid these. First, they can cost up to five cents more a packet. Second, you can't taste the difference. Creamy chicken taste like chicken with cloudier water. Roast beef tastes like beef with more little green flecks in it which is probably meant to be basil or something of the like, but is more likely to pencil shavings. Stick to the basics: chicken, beef, and oriental (I personally never trusted the shrimp). Even these taste pretty much alike. In general Ramen all taste like your grandfather: salty. Don't bother paying even a little bit more for what amounts to the same thing.

3. Ramen can be a side dish or make a casserole
I know. I know. This flies in the face of cheapskate convention. Ramen is a meal unto itself dammit. While this is true, if, by some fluke of luck, you find yourself with a little extra food on hand and want to attempt a meal proper, Ramen can be a good side. If you have a little chicken or beef on hand - fat chance, but you never know - try it with the corresponding Ramen flavor. Try dressing up your Ramen by throwing in some cheap vegetables or breaking up lunch meat into it. It becomes a casserole - a casserole which will never pass muster at any respectable cover dish dinner, but a casserole none the less.

4. If you drink ramen from a mug, clean it before you drink tea out of the same mug
In college - which is how most Ramen related stories begin - a friend of mine almost threw up in a religion course because of this. He ended up rolling on the ground and gagging. We tried to convince the prof he was speaking in tongues, but he was a strict Calvinist and would have none of it. It's a good idea to have a reserved Ramen bowl or mug since that flavor can be stubborn and refuse to get out despite numerous cleanings.

5. Never serve Ramen on a date
Trust me on this one. Just don't. Not even as a side. Splurge and buy a generic bag of preseasoned minute rice. It might cost you seventy cents more, but it will be beneficial in the long run.

That's just a short list. Remember, there are no rules to Ramen. You can eat it however you want. It's your fifteen cents, don't let convention tell you what to do. Even if you want to eat it dry, that's between you and your dentist.

Shalom
James

(P.S. Sorry for the long delay between posts. Since my move I've been without internet at my humble abode. My attempts to connect to neighborhood wireless networks have proved fruitless. I may need to bite the bullet and pay for a connection. Until then I can only get on line at libraries and various hotspots. I will try to write more, I promise.)

Theory 2: Continuing Education

2005-08-29T21:46:00.000-07:00

I really should have put this theory forward first since it is one of the overriding themes of my entire experiment. Put simply: I believe if at all possible it is best to live as close to a college campus as possible. This is not just because I have a Peter Pan complex and don’t wish to grow up. I truly believe that a college campus is the perfect setting for the starving artist – or faux starving artist in my case. This is particularly true if you – like me – are not far out of school or can pass as a student. The key here is to be able to blend seamlessly in with the college population. My new apartment is directly next to dorms of Geneva College.

Remember this: Every college in the country has a cafeteria which serves hundreds and maybe thousands of students every day. All you have to do is get inside and it’s buffet city. The quality may not always be top of the line, but you’re a starving artist. You might as well learn to settle for mediocrity. Hell, when it comes to food, there’s a good chance you’ll find yourself striving for mediocrity most of the time. Plus, cafeterias at least offer variety. There’s almost always a salad bar and some sort of sandwich station to go along with the main course. Once inside I figure it will be a good idea to line my pockets with rolls, and any sort of pre-wrapped food.

The hard part will be getting in. Colleges don’t just open up the doors of their cafeterias to anyone who looks reasonably like a college student. They post sentries outside – usually grey haired women crones who don’t take no guff – who check student ID’s. They make sure only true students gain entry to the copious wonders the cafeteria has to offer. As long as you can get past these guards, you’re set. Trust me; I plan on running some serious surveillance on Geneva’s cafeteria as soon as I move.

I already have a few moves I picked up from my own time in college. First is the simple and confident walk in behind a blockade of students. If the guards can’t see you, they can’t stop you. It will be helpful to make student friends who will run interference for you. Another move is something I like to call the wave. The wave works something like this. As you walk toward the cafeteria, make eye contact with someone inside – anyone, it doesn’t matter if the guy thinks you’re a complete maniac. Then, Start waving at this person like you absolutely have to talk to him and need to get his attention. Then, you simply walk in. The guards often simply assume you have pressing business with someone inside and aren’t interested in food. Suckers.

There are other ways. One of which is a treasure trove if you can pull it off: Befriend the cafeteria guards. Sell them a sob story. Tell them you’re a poor, starving artist. Be helpful to them. Play on their mothering instincts. If, by some trick of luck you can achieve this, you’ll have no worries. The guards will practically insist you go in and eat. Of course this gambit is risky. It takes time and involves tipping your hand. If you can’t win the cafeteria guards over, you’ll be a marked man. They’ll keep your face on their most wanted list. The doors of the cafeteria will be closed to you forever.

Of course, there are other reasons to live near a college. You can take advantage of deals local business have for college students. I also believe it is best to live near a campus which is integrated into a town, not a campus which is self contained. It will be easier to blend in and make friends on campus that way. Also, if there are parties going on it is easy to simply walk in find some chips, drink some beer, and leave. Of course, since Geneva is conservative Christian school, this may not be available to me.

Living near a college campus can also be beneficial socially. College girls are much more likely to fall for your starving artist act. In the post college world you are nothing more than a deadbeat to the ladies, but college girls – especially of the liberal arts persuasion – will be more likely to be intrigued by a ‘starving artist’. At least, this is part of my theory, and I certainly hope it proves correct.

Before I go, there are a few theories I would like to bump straight up to Law level based on previous experience.

Law #1: Family Ties.
If at all possible have at least some family close at hand. I live close to my grandmother and she’s good for at least two meals a week as well as free laundry.

Law #2: Keep Your Friends Close. Keep Your Friends in Food Service Closer.
For the past year, I’ve lived beneath good friend who also happens to manage a Pizza Hut. Whenever they have left over unclaimed pizzas at the end of the night, they always managed to find their way to my fridge. He’s already promised he’d give me a little food here and there once I move. This may prove to be invaluable.

Shalom

Preliminary Information

2005-08-28T21:18:00.000-07:00

First of all, let it be said that I do not not truly consider myself to be an artist. I possess none of the abilities usually associated with art. I can't draw, paint, sculpt, sing, dance, or play any musical instrument. I do fancy myself a fair writer and performer - primarily with the Cellar Dwellers Comedy Troupe, headquartered in Beaver County, Pennsylvania - but, as you are sure to soon discover, my writing is not always up to snuff, and you can just take my word for it when I say my performing usually ends up subpar as well. I guess you can say the whole artist claim is nothing more than romantic posturing - which you shall soon find out is all part of the experiment.

However, I assure you that I am indeed starving, or at least am soon to be. This is the part of the introductory blog where I give more detailed background on myself. I know you can hardly wait. For the past year I've been living with two roommates making my financial situation quite livable despite my less than stellar day job at a local department store. Now, our lease runs out in a few days and both roommates are running back to the secure confines of their parents' houses. Not me however. Since my parents live too far away for me to keep up my local performing and writing projects and no one else will have me for a roommate, I have no choice but to go it alone. I have already signed a lease for my own place, and am set to move in a few days. Living on my own will, of course, increase the financial burden upon myself. After crunching the numbers - very loosely in my head, I am a writer not a math guy after all - I've discovered I can afford to pay all my bills. I can't, however, afford to eat.

This is where the experiment comes in. Over the next few months I will discover how to eat - as well as live with some leisure - on an extremely low budget. I have a number of theories on the subject which I am prepared to test in real world circumstances. Some of these theories will hopefully be prove useful and become low budget laws. Meanwhile, many are certain to fail. I will chart my findings in this space when possible - with any luck at one of my new neighbors will have an unsecured wireless network. Over the next couple of days I'll be going over some the theories I'll be testing, and once I move in earnest, the test is on.

Just to let you have an idea how this is going to work here is one theory I will be testing:

Theory #1 - Always romanticize the situation
Hence the title of this blog. The basis of this theory is that you will receive more sympathy and hence more free food, if you are seen as a romantic figure such as a starving artist. You're not just an underachiever who people think should simply get a better job. No, you're a starving artist. You have an excuse for a crappy job...(ahem) a crappy 'day' job. People want to help a romantic figure. They want to be part of the romantic situation however possible. This could very easily lead to free food and maybe even financial help. It also cannot possibly hurt in social situations.

For the outcome of this experiment and more be sure to check back in with me. Wish me luck.

Shalom