HANGING BY A THREAD WHILE I'M STANDING ON THE EDGE
I should have found a bookmaker taking bets for Oscar winners as Shannon would have helped me clean house. She went 11 to 5 on predictions which probably could have funded a nice trip somewhere.
I had to subscribe to YouTube TV to watch the show and spent 75 minutes watching Family Feud after the broadcast ended. Watching network television is IN this year, streaming services are OUT. After work this week I’m going to sit on the couch and watch Ridiculousness until the witching hour.
LET ME KEEP SPINNING UNTIL I HIT THE GROUND
Going to the theater is back in a big way. On Saturday, I took a trip to the cinema for a matinee showing of Scream VI which had been on my mind since going to see the fifth installment in the franchise last January.
As I settled into my seat, a series of events occurred which left me deeply bewildered. Groups of teenagers began pouring in during the previews, iPhone flash lights on, seemingly in competition with one another to see who could be the loudest. My phone vibrated and I groaned upon seeing the BeReal notification, which of course set off a chain of dutiful snaps throughout the theater.
At one point, three trailers in, a teenage girl with a giant Cinnamaroll backpack stood up and began loudly chastising her friends for something I could not discern. As the opening scene began, a family of five ascended the stairs and began walking down the aisle in which I was seated. Much to my chagrin, they took their seats right next to me, and I realized that among them was a 10-year-old and a little girl, no older than five, who subsequently spent the entirety of the violent and very much Rated R film watching Paw Patrol on her mom’s phone.
I was shocked. Am I crazy for adhering to strict movie theater etiquette and expecting my fellow moviegoers to do the same? Not to sound too old, but I seem to remember a time in which everyone entered an unspoken pact to not be a complete nuisance at the movies.
I'M TRYING VERY HARD TO BE HERE
On any given Friday, there is a good chance you will find me at my local dive bar doing karaoke. Karaoke is an enduring pass time for a reason – there are few things in the world more fun than doing Jell-O shots and taking a stab at a Talking Heads track (though I typically veer Lana). Last Friday was no different, and I once again found myself at said dive bar with friends desperately vying for a spot on the coveted signup sheet. The thing about Rips is this: the most powerful person in the room from 9 PM to 2 AM is the karaoke hostess with an alliterative stage name (we’ll call her Cece Carnage, though the actual moniker is much funnier) who lords her dominion over the drunken masses from behind a handheld microphone. The other thing about these evenings is that if your name is not on the list by, and I’m not kidding, no later than 9:30 PM, there is an approximately 3% chance that you will be called to the stage before 1:30. As my group had arrived after midnight, we were all aware that it was futile to add our names to the sprawling queue, though we did anyway.
Karaoke, I’ve found, is also a fantastic opportunity for people watching. The freaks come out. Last week, I watched in horror as an inebriated white man took the stage to give us his take on Gangsta’s Paradise. To say it was the longest four minutes of my life would be an egregious understatement. This week, mercifully, no such catastrophes occurred and instead, my friends and I had the pleasure of meeting a man named Dennis while outside smoking. More than a little drunk, he introduced himself using his full name: Dennis Dionysus Salazar, Esq. The esquire, he said, was added for flair and because it “isn’t illegal”. I admired his confidence and his brown sport coat, which he paired with jeans and square-toe leather work shoes. He asked us what he should sing (though he’d already signed up and chosen a song) and said it would need to be a song with a raspy vocal on account of him losing his voice. We made some suggestions before being unceremoniously separated on the busy patio.
When we heard the DJ call Dennis’ name, we ran inside. What followed was an incredibly soulful and not at all on-pitch rendition of Plush – we all screamed along, chanting, “Dennis, Dennis, Dennis!” after he’d taken his bow.
The bartender bellowed out a last call for alcohol and the last names were selected to close out the evening. Though no one in my group had their moment in the spotlight, meeting a character like Dennis was enough to consider the evening a success.
— @shannon
PAINTED WALLS PAINTED SKIES THE TOUCH OF LOVE A BREATH OF LIFE
After two weeks of training I’ve finally been cut loose to hit the floor and start working, which in actuality means that I’m going to continue “shadowing” (loathsome term) and observing until I actually know how to do my job – isn’t training so effective? I’ve been paired with an older woman with both a striking resemblance and eerily similar cadence to Nancy Pelosi but with piercing green eyes.
As soon as I sat down with her, I was informed she would be leaving early and taking the rest of the week off due to a scheduled surgery. She typed up her out-of-office email response and then did something I’ve never seen before in my 5 years of working in an office — recording a new voicemail message to let callers know she would be on medical leave. I was bewildered, though this is obviously both professional and courteous. It was jarring to see someone engage in such an anachronistic practice.
It did leave me wondering: whatever happened to leaving voicemails? Why does it feel like it’s something reserved for our parents and telemarketers?
WITHOUT A DOUBT A WISH TO DREAM A LIFE PARAMOUNT A LOVE SUPREME
The clocks have struck forward one hour under the guise of saving daylight for farmers, though Arizona is the only state for which this does not at all matter. The tides have long been turning on this custom, however, and every year more and more people are left wondering why we observe it at all. This years detractors included, among others, the 22nd most important person on Vanderpump Rules1 and a dogfluencer, who took to Twitter to denounce the cumbersome change:
AN OPEN HEART NO MATTER HOW REVEALING IF IT AINT GOT NO SOUL IT AINT GOT THAT FEELING
Two pieces of writing that frustrated me deeply — it ain’t got that feeling.
The State of Hardcore in a Post-Turnstile World, ringer
On Whirr and Navigating Canceled Bands in Canon, elienis
GIVE ME THE PAIN GIVE ME THE FEELING I WANT IT ALL I NEED THAT FEELING
A member of NBA Twitter did research on Devin Booker being a shit talker and caught the pride of Slovenia, Luka Dončić, in a lie.
TAKE ME AS I AM DON’T SEE ME FOR WHAT I’M NOT
From the late 40s into the mid-60s Arts & Architecture magazine was commissioning buzzy architects like Charles and Ray Eames, Richard Neutra, and Eero Saarinen to build inexpensive homes around California. Of the 30 commissioned spaces, which include two apartment studies, only one exists outside of California. Built in 1964, the Triad Apartments are nestled in a quiet suburban neighborhood of Phoenix, Arizona. A collaboration between Al Beadle and Alan Dailey, Triad sits on a 12,000-square-foot lot and is comprised of three 850-square-foot units. Each unit has a living room, bedroom, bathroom, and private patio but also faces one communal outside space. Beadle wanted to dispel the notion that apartments were solely utilitarian and therefore shouldn’t be designed with the same care or intention as a traditional home.
Our intention is to overcome by example, not just precept, as many as possible of those misconceptions and prejudices which have bred the outrageous ‘dingbat’ apartments, the cheap and blowzy eyesores, that continue to proliferate everywhere in our country.
After receiving formal construction training during World War II as a Seabee, Beadle relocated to Phoenix in the early 1950s to pursue his career as a residential and commercial architect. Some of his earlier projects include a residential housing development called Paradise Gardens (from which he distanced himself before the project was completed) and local landmark the Safari Resort in Scottsdale, which has since been demolished but is widely regarded as being one of the resorts that helped turn Scottsdale into a popular tourist destination, along with the still-standing Valley Ho and Mountain Shadows.
Beadle encountered professional difficulties when he was charged for practicing without a proper license. The state of Arizona wanted to grandfather him in by giving him a license but the architect refused to accept it. As part of his defense, Beadle’s lawyer argued that another local architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, was also practicing without proper licenses.
To be eligible to take the test, Beadle had to obtain the requisite apprentice hours mandated by the state. After learning about Beadle’s credential issues, retired New York architect Alan A. Dailey formed a Phoenix firm so Beadle could obtain the apprentice hours needed to take the test. He would go on to take the test and pass on his first attempt.
In 1963, Beadle designed and supervised the construction of the 21-story Executive Towers in midtown Phoenix. At the time it was the tallest high rise in the Phoenix-Metro area. The sleek residential building, a white tower with canary yellow patios, still stands today and can be seen from my front yard. We live in the shadow of Al Beadle and many people do not even realize it.
My neighborhood is changing at a rapid pace. Old houses and businesses are torn down and replaced by new construction projects that are not only ugly but soulless. A unit in Triad was available at the beginning of 2020, it’s a shame I didn’t know of its existence sooner.
EVERYDAY IS LIKE SUNDAY
That’s it for this week – you can anticipate receiving a dispatch every Monday morning with a similar format and varying genres of content. Please subscribe, comment, and share.
If you ever want to discuss anything featured in these dispatches, please email me hello@tylerhasagun.com
The tweet referenced has since been deleted by Charli Burnett, a cast member of Vanderpump Rules and a server at SUR. I should probably screenshot in the future.