Monday, February 09, 2009

Lemon Gloria Interviewish Thang


Lisa was interviewed by Lemmonex, and it was cool, so I played along.

To join in, follow these instructions:
1. Email me w/“Interview me.”
2. I'll email you five questions.
3. You post the interview somewhere, and link back to this post.
4. Then you also post these rules and offer to interview someone else
.

I've known Lisa's family since before both of us were born. Francesca and I went to her wedding last year. Annnnnnnnd here we go:

1. I know you love to travel.  So in a fictional scenario, you and your wife have a child-free week (If you choose to - they're with relatives, who are delighted to have them), the time off work, and unlimited cash.  What do you do?

It's true I love to travel, but in the same way I love to go backpacking or have marital relations - I successfully feel love for it far more frequently than am actually successful at it. I haven't been back in Asia for 25 years. That's what I consider traveling. It may be awhile again to pick up where we left off, to be honest. Mexico's a 4 hour drive. I went to Amsterdam for 10 days. Those don't really count. What would count would be to fly to Chennai, visit Kodai Kanal, and a week later train it north to Agra, Veranasi, and Delhi. A quick email to our parents, and train west to Rajesthan - Jaipur, 
Jaisalmer, Jodhpur. Then fly to Kathmandu for a week, and do some trekking - like Solo Kumbu, where you went. Kala Pattar. The last week we'd stay in a house boat in Kashmir, somewhere relatively safe. That's a good solid "week" or so. Kids might wonder where we are, but relatives have them, you say? 

If they're so delighted, they can keep it up for a month or two. They got used to it, right? I'm kidding, grandparents reading this. We'd be back in 3 weeks.

2. If you could have dinner with any famous person, living or dead, who would it be?

I'd want it to be an enjoyable time, so I wouldn't inter any dead people to prop up at the table; also I can't pick someone I'm in awe of, who would make me feel like a blubbering groupie. Like Ani Difranco. She'd probably be super cool, and try to put me at ease, and actually try herself to have a good time with me. But it would fail. I'd acquire Alzheimer's, rickets and Turret's right quick. Also, even people I eat with who are considered famous secretly complain about what a pain in the ass it is to choose a restaurant that has a good vegetarian selection to accommodate me, so I'd actually suggest dinner at my house.

Ultimately, I think we'd have a pretty good time having 
Patton Oswalt and his wife over for dinner. I'd fix the fake-meatiest courses he'd ever seen, and get him to admit hippy abominable deathless duck, sausage and steak can be as sumptuous, filling, and tasty as anything that rat he played would aggressively push on his menu. Two loaves of fresh bread, infused with barley that I'd brew a beer with specifically for the meal; and a homemade oaked-up Californian red. Tiramisu. Plus we would get lit the f*ck up after, more likely than not. Just to take the edge off of the gig - someone like Patton obliged by this question to eat dinner with someone like me.

3. Imagine yourself on The Daily Show.  What are you famous for?  What is Jon Stewart interviewing you about?

I'd be invited because of the speed at which I rose to fame - simply by writing and recording songs with my laptop for the web, I sold millions of downloads without performing once on stage, like an actual legitimate musician. Plus all my novels. And movies I wrote, directed, produced and starred in. Oh, and I cured 
malaria while brokering the permanent Israel-Palestine Peace Accord. Then he would hire me during the interview, while we're on a roll here. As Bill Hicks said, "why don't you pretend? You get paid more than me, you fantasize."

4. How has having children changed your view of the world?  Has it changed how you see yourself in the world?

Before switching to English, I was going for an Education degree, and worked at a
preschool during most of my college years (I never actually graduated, of course, slacker I am). Same school Francesca went to for kindergarten and summer camp. Teaching young kids and training with child experts changed my understanding of the purpose of the world, and how we're supposed to act in it. I feel lucky for the people who taught me how to get a head start on early childhood ed, now that Parenting's who I am. All the choices made about work, friendships, family events-everything I do is for the kids. Which for me is an improvement, because I didn't lead a very safe or uniquely interesting life before them. I will say that I bust my ass to score software and engineering gigs solely because they pay well, and I probably wouldn't if I didn't feel I had to. So that's a nice perk when I'm drooling over a new toy or $15 microbrew.

Jodie insists that my life hasn't changed that much, meaning I still can visit my friends' houses, go to a pub, see the occasional band, and all the stuff she can't because of bedtime with The Boobs (her boobs). Not that I do any of those but once or twice a month - just that I can. Truth is, today I'd be able to stave off an infarction for about a week living like I did in my 20s and 30s. And though still an asshole, getting older I feel relieved I didn't turn out to be the old broken-down asshole I would've been without kids.

Having daughters saved my fatherhood. I don't know how my parents raised my brother and me. I can't tell you how it feels  like, watching my capacity for love expand every year, as my kids and marriage grow older. I'd probably have 
lots of love in my life without them, but I can't imagine living with that trifle amount, when I hold the two up. I bow down a hundred little ways every day for every woman in my house. I have a great appreciation for, and sympathize to pity with, my parents for raising us two boys. We were terrible, smelly, violent, reckless, rude young males in their life.

My daughters can be hellions, but they live in a world of pastels and lace and makeup and fairies and horses. They're in constant conversation, and they love us actively; they're peacemakers; they listen. I'm almost ashamed how easy it is to raise them. 

I don't know who I'd be without my children. Sometimes I work really f*cking hard at it, and some days it just comes about, for free, but in the end I got what I wanted. Jodie says she agrees. All that feels pretty good, most of the time. How has it changed me? I don't know, I'm not that interested in the person I'd be otherwise. Compared to him, I kind of win.

5. If you had to choose a flavor of ice cream that most fits your personality, what kind do you think you would be?  Feel free to make one up if necessary.

Bhang ki thandai gulab jamun.