Fuck You, 2008

It's true, I am quite the passionate cynic. But it's not just me this time. Most people I know had a shit existence during these past 364 days and can't wait for 2008 to be over with either.

What was not to love? Recession and a crap job market. Check. A seemingly never-ending presidential election season that got dumber by the month. Check plus! Bush kept making us look retarded, and our idols wouldn't stop dying. Seriously, if I thought it would have helped, I would have created an "End Death In '08" group on Facebook long ago.

The old saying goes that the four most traumatic experiences someone can go through are job loss, divorce, death and moving. Well, I did three out of four in '08... and considering that no one got an email heads-up about my starter marriage, you can figure out which one I was spared. If it weren't for my close friends and family, I don't think I would've gotten through the second half of this year. Thank you, all.

So for all of the above reasons: Fuck you and fuck off, 2008. My best wishes to everyone for a happy, prosperous and safe 2009. Oh, and holler if you know of a good New Year's Eve party in NYC. Or know anyone that's hiring.

Lastly, I wanted to give one final shout-out to some of the people we lost this year. Their inspiration and contributions to our foolish world are already missed.


Erlene Zierke




Paul Newman





Heath Ledger





George Carlin




Bettie Page




Eartha Kitt




Brad Renfro




Plus: Jerry Finn, Michael Turner, Bernie Mac, Tim Russert, Sydney Pollack, Roy Scheider, Charlton Heston, David Foster Wallace, Isaac Hayes, Harvey Korman, Estelle Getty, Jeff Healey, Don LaFontaine, Jerry Reed, Yves Saint Laurent, Jerry Wexler, Stan Winston, Richard Wright, Bo Diddley, Mark Felt and countless others.

New York Tenement Blues

I'm not even going to lie about it: There is absolutely nothing sexy about tenement living. It's taken me nearly a week to free up enough space in my Manhattan studio to lay my mattress down horizontally, making this past Wednesday the very first time in damn near a month that I was able to finally sleep in my own bed. I think I'm ready to tour with Cirque de Soleil as a contortionist after slithering my way around all the stacked boxes and oversized Atlanta furniture.

But the place is coming along, slowly but surely. I have my Internet working, scored a new fridge from my building management, and *hopefully* by tonight I'll be able to catch up with Project Runway (no spoilers!). Even had a cute delivery man help me move furniture.

Otherwise, I've been keeping busy trying to overthrow world media (yes, again). Finished writing some riveting liner notes for a Wu-Tang Clan DVD, attended my first cable TV pitch meeting today and took a call about another really cool, creative project I might just get involved with. Had lunch with a fellow Super Deluxe refugee the other day, while sadly missing another one passing through town. Hopefully there will be plenty of time to see everyone, both local and visiting. 

It's also been a really Erlene-heavy day. It's really hard not to think of her all the time anyway, but today was particularly intense. As I was organizing my stuff, I found the two items I'd taken to remember her by: her Burberry scarf and the weird little "Graffiti Wars" painting she had displayed in her cube. That, and staring at the shelf unit we assembled together one drunken, hazy night in my Atl apt. has been hard. I still can't believe she won't be coming to stay here with me.

So yeah, living in a tiny-ass apartment—albeit one that's rent stabilized and in an awesome neighborhood—kinda sucks. But when I walk outside and feel the NYC energy buzzing through the air, and see all the gorgeous women dressed to kill at all times, it inspires me; it makes me happy. It makes me feel like I'm home.

"Then My Best Friend Died/I Lost My Mind..."

Up until now it's been ok. The only deaths that've really affected my life were those of my grandparents, and needless to say, I sort of saw THOSE coming. Having someone fantastic, beautiful and full of life die needlessly, well... that's a new heartbreaking experience I was happy to forego until today. And the passing of my darling, gorgeous Erlene Zierke is something that blind-sided both myself and so many others that care for her.

Erlene was my best friend in Atlanta, and would probably have remained a friend forever. She encouraged me to drink and rejoice as often as she encouraged me to take that extra lap around the park on my bike. She was a beautiful, adventurous, smart, industrious woman who i was glad to have met, much less befriended. It is still completely devastating to me that I'll never see her again, never get her opinion on a new outfit or a new boy, dissect the lyrics of "NPR2's" latest hits together, nor will i hear about the next great thing she's been working on or blog she championed.

It's been a little over 24 hours since we've all heard the terrible news, and in that time, I've barely been able to calculate the horrible effect her loss will be to the world, and those who got to know her best.

I still hope to wake up tomorrow and find out this was all one horrible, exaggerated game of telephone.

I love you, Erlene. I'm so glad we spent as much time together as we did, and so morbidly sad that your life will never flourish to the great expectations you had. This is truly our loss.