minnie driver, wikipedia editor

If, like me, you’ve lately been wondering “Whatever happened to Minnie Driver? She was so cute in the late 90s, so British, so It… Good Will Hunting, Gross Pointe Blank, that heart movie with David Duchovny… I miss that girl, I just know we would have been friends “, then you’ll be happy to know that she’s living in Poland and has found gainful volunteer employment as a Wikipedia editor…

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… which I learned today after donating $3 to the big W. I do it every year. Because whatever, Wikipedia kinda rules. Except for that lowercase “g” on the “God” at the bottom. There is no way Polishpedia Minnie-ganger is a lowercase g kinda girl. Probably need to flag that, editors.

I actually took the time to download / upload this video.

12 cigars a day keeps the reaper away


I’ve had a couple of great-grandfathers reach the 90s; apparently they just needed to up their cigar game. I swear it’s always something like this. For every 150-year-old Japanese women and their fish story out there, there’s one about ancient Americans and their Coke or something. So I’m feeling good about things.

“A gunman who went on a crime spree wearing a devil mask is now in custody and hurting like hell.”

Now that’s my kind of lead (not lede, never lede, never ever. Unless on a resume to impress those who lede).

In Lubbock, before they revoked my license to thrill, I somehow got away with a “knits like hell” in a story about an old fellow who knit like hell for charity. And it ran on Christmas. On the front page.

Madison moans

I told myself after I found out, look, don’t get fancy with it, don’t try to save the world, you’ve mostly already missed the newsiness of it, so just push out a quick moment of silence and use that awesome picture of him and have some links to the old stuff you’ve already done on him. (His was one of our fist profiles. I actually think it was the first thing Ben ever wrote for TWER, which seemed apropos and still does.) And yet here I am days later, outside at 11 p.m. with a Swisher Sweet cigar (we have / had the same brand, so proud), some Auburn bug chasing this sweaty sentence across the screen, hoping that the Auburn tree frogs and the Auburn crickets will deafen me, dampen the Twitter alert, and inspire with their so southerness some final tribute of truth about Madison Jones and what he meant to my Auburn.

Now I’m back inside and maybe I’ll use this for the TWER piece. I mean, of course I will, good job [I mean of course I did, good job]. But I can’t find–and I can find anything–the folder of photos I took of all the insane pottery figurines he’d made when I interviewed him at his house in March 2008 for a story I never wrote for East Alabama Living Magazine, Ben “Kill Fee” Bartley-style. It’s killing me.

They’re all great, but of all I’ve read–and maybe it was because it was the first and reminded me of Auburn (he said there was a little Auburn in the town) and because I love the cover– Last Things is my favorite. He told me it was the hardest / most complicated to write. I took that as a compliment.

Here’s Ben’s review of another great one, A Cry of Absence.

small decaf cappucino

Jennie and I watched “You’ve Got Mail” tonight, a well-established come Christmas ritual. I’ve probably seen it 20 times. First time? No, dear, it wasn’t with another girl but with Bart, just two dudes who always gave the Birmingham night the respect it deserved, and a classic Hanks-Ryan rom-com, in the theater, probably at the Summit, December ’98 (I think we just straight up decided, yeah, let’s go see that—must have been the perceived zeitgeisty, cyberspace artifice: “The appeal of You’ve Got Mail is as old as love and as new as the Web.” — Roger Ebert).

We think it’s brilliant—probably lone reeds along those lines when it comes to most people we know, standing tall, waving boldly in the cuh-rap sands of cinema. But damn, it’s smart. And damn, it captures a certain American time. And damn it’s acted well.

"Hi, I'm Kimberly."

We paused it to check on Sadie and when we came back to the screen saw what we had done to Meg Ryan during the Cafe, rose-in-a-book scene. And of course we paused to take a picture.

seven years of ‘wardrobe malfunction’

Kenny Smith’s Twitter feed just told me that today is the 7th anniversary of Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction, which reminded me of a flier I made for a Haint’s show right after it happened.

I may have, you know, gotten the month wrong (I meant February 6th, not January), but I’d like to think I captured the nonsensical spirit of the most significant pop culture moment of the previous decade… not that it mattered to Katie’s mom: “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, Jeremy Dale.” Think it might be the only time I’ve disappointed Ma Alice. It wasn’t a good feeling. But I still can’t help but think it was worth it.