This is not a movie recommendation
It has come to my attention that, because letter #1 arrive unannounced and uninvited, some of you may have archived the letter as it was from unknown origin. You not surprisingly thought it might be spam.
I guess it was spam by the definition of spam. The fact that you are getting letter #2 means you did not mark my previous letter as spam. If you think an email is spam, I suggest unsubscribing from it or marking it as spam rather than ignoring or archiving it. Keep your email inbox clean and relevant!
With that being said, I'm glad you're still subscribed to this newsletter.
Why March of Time?
One of the most interesting and frustrating bits of starting a new thing is coming up with a title. My memory says it took Nate and I at least 2 nights of brainstorming before we settled on Scrawlers. Granted finding a name for a website has other limitations, such as being able to secure the domain name.
This newsletter had the distinct advantage of not needing a domain name. It is also a silly experiment with a limited audience. These factors pointed to spending minimal time naming things.
Something that came to mind as I was exploring this format was the old-timey movie newsreels. As I watched archival footage of those historical "news of the world" offerings, I ran into a particular production that caught my eye: The March of Time.
Some fun facts about The March of Time:
- It ran in theaters for 16 years (1935-1951)
- Each new episode came out monthly
- The episodes were 20-30 minutes (attending a movie was surely an event back then!)
- The series was a money loser at a cost of $50,000 per episode
- Stanley Kubrick started his film career directing short documentaries for The March of Time
In any case, I appreciated the irony of naming this non-newsy newsletter in honor of a long-expired form of getting news to people via movie theaters. Though in light of my prior letter's discussion of news over-saturation, the irony is lessened when you consider that back then news could be delivered a month at a time and everyone seemed to be reasonably okay.
I like the movie theater connection because I grew up working in my parents' small town theater. I like the word "march" because I'm a band nerd and loved marching band in my youth. I also liked the word "time" given that subject is how I made my living for most of my adult life. And time marches on.
1994
The Consumption
Chris Thile's I Made This for You speaks for itself. Excerpted:
As we leave the front pages in bed
With the war raging on in our heads
I could write a swath of humanity off
'cause of something that I just read
But I don't want to fight fire with fire
And I don't want to preach to the choir
Giving just as much hell as I get
To people I'd prob'ly like if I metSo whether these days leave you laughing or crying
If you're doing your best to be kind
This land is as much yours as mine
As god is my witness
If that doesn't inspire, well, at least magpies are amazing.
The recipe is in a cookbook – I'll share a pic if you get in touch
Barry Tales
I'm the third child of four. Our age split is kind of unique. I'm eight years younger than my brother, five years younger than my older sister, and twelve years older than my younger sister. From the ages of nine to twelve I was in a youngest-child-that-feels-like-an-only-child era. My brother was about to go to college. My sister was hitting her teens and had her own things to do. I learned to play alone pretty well.
Baseball was life to me during those years. I listened to the Minnesota Twins religiously when I wasn't playing in my own games or attending my dad's fastpitch softball games. My walls were plastered with newspaper articles, player portraits, etc. I went through rolls of masking tape, fastidiously placing these clippings on the wall. In straight and parallel lines, mind you. Just so.
I also made lists and lists. I would look at boxscores in The Sporting News every week and update my league leaders lists. I would imagine how the games were played, picturing the moments that may or may not have happened. I even had a dice game where you'd form teams out of your baseball card collection and pit them against each other. Seasons were played, stats were kept, and awards were given.
My favorite pastime was to go outside and invent entire nine-inning baseball games in my mind. These were played on the side of our garage with a racquetball and a glove. I started every play off as the pitcher and I threw hard. The strike zone target was just below a small window on the side of the garage. This tempting of fate made the game have very real consequences. I'm sure I broke the window at least two times.
As the ball rebounded off the wall I went into fielder mode. There were no pop flies in this game. The ball would move with pace directly at me or to either side of me. This meant there were lots of quick snags to make the outs. Sometimes dives were needed to keep the hitters to a single base. When I think back, lots of math and spatial organization was going on in my head for this game. I had to "hold state" in there for a while as the next "batter" came to hit. It was good mental and physical practice!
I hope this letter finds you able to reach back to happy memories and experiences. Especially those memories where you were alone, but content. We evolved to be social animals, but at times we need to adapt to our circumstances. Hold on a little longer. You can do it!