Yes, I’ve been gone for many months! Whoops! I got laid off and moved to Los Angeles. The layoff coincided with the return of my best friend from her stint in the Peace Corps. Perfect! So my tripod/triangle/vortex of the apex of best frienditude was back together again. We mostly invented new drinks, danced, had big sleepovers, watched every Apatow movie and 30 Rock episode ever made, and ate lots of things with mayonnaise in them.
THE BIG NEWS: This inspired my two darlings to start a new food blog! If you do well with recipes that instruct you to add “a couple farts of dijon mustard,” then The Decadence Factor is for you. I’ve been very lucky that these two know how to cook and do so AMAZINGLY, since I am differently abled in the culinary realm.
They also take pretty photos of their food and bevvies, like these little fuckers I barely remember….I had the gin sweats the next day something fierce!
L-R: Chef Julia, Eater Lexi, Chef Cella
Watch for the inevitable Food Network show sometime soon, likely to be called “The Lusty Chefs.” And yes, more posts to come soon, I have lots to cover from the last few months!
When John Hughes died a few weeks ago, this tribute to him — written by a woman who was a fan of his as a teenager who then became his penpal — was linked and posted just about everywhere. When I read it, I instantly thought of my friend Dean Turner.
Dean was the bassist for Magic Dirt, an Australian band that has been one of my favorites for years. I discovered them in 1997 and was instantly smitten with their album “Friends In Danger,” which I happened to find in the import section of a record store in Santa Cruz. As time went on, I realized what a lark it was to have found that record in the States; though they had a U.S. record deal, their label did nothing for them aside from shipping it to a few stores once they heard it and the sound wasn’t what they were expecting. As a result, nobody I knew in my small, 13-year-old-world had heard of them or wanted to give them a chance. Desperate to talk to someone about their brilliance, I found their website and began posting on their message board, something I’d never done before. I couldn’t believe it when I realized the band members themselves frequented their message board, because to me they were as inaccessible and huge as the Rolling Stones.
Over the next couple of years, I conversed with Dean, their singer/guitarist, Adalita, and their manager, James, on their message board a lot – they were always interested in how overseas fans had heard of their band and what our local music scenes were like. Dean and I found common ground at one point when he was bored out of his mind in the hospital, having just gotten a foot tumor removed, and with little to entertain him outside of visiting hours but the laptop his bandmates smuggled into him. He downplayed his pain and lengthy recovery, but was going crazy with all of the unfilled hours, and spent them chatting with his fans online. He’d heard of a new show out in the U.S. that was making waves, “Jackass,” and wondered if I’d heard of it. Being a teenager, I was the show’s target demographic and had taped hours of it, so I offered to send some episodes to Dean. My mom drove me to the post office and I used my allowance to cover the postage to Australia, and when Dean got it he was completely thrilled and profusely grateful. After he got out of the hospital, he sent the tape around to a bunch of his friends, who were also thrilled by it.
A few weeks later, a package arrived for me that contained a letter from Dean, every Magic Dirt album I couldn’t find (some on vinyl), Magic Dirt posters, a Magic Dirt t-shirt, and a mix tape Dean had made just for me. I was beside myself. For the next couple of years, we sent each other packages – we made each other t-shirts and mix tapes, and we’d swap Australian/American music magazines and candy. I shudder to think what I possibly put on mix tapes for him at that point in my life, but his mix tapes were a major part of my musical education, and included the first Dinosaur Jr. and Kyuss songs I’d ever heard. He even wore a t-shirt I made him onstage once, that read “BEAR SUIT” in rhinestones, regarding a long-running gag with fans. The most amazing part to me was that he truly seemed as excited to receive my packages as I was to receive his!
The years went on, I turned 18 and moved to New York City and began working, and Dean got married and had two kids and Magic Dirt continued at a frantic pace, and we fell out of touch. Occasionally I’d still check in on their message board and receive an enthusiastic greeting from him, just as he did with so many other fans. So when I read the John Hughes tribute a few weeks ago, I was warmly reminded of what a special experience I’d had with Dean. As it turns out, Dean was very sick at that point with an extremely rare form of deep tissue cancer that he had been battling quietly and privately for nine years (thinking back, I realize his foot operation may have been the beginning of that, though with Dean’s stoicism, I have no clue if that’s accurate). Last weekend, I learned that Dean had lost his battle and had passed away at the age of 37. It does not feel real.
Dean and I never got to meet each other, and I never got to see Magic Dirt live so I never saw him playing bass barefoot, weight on his arches with the outsides of his feet sticking up, in person. But Dean and his music are two of the most influential presences I’ve had in my life. His experience with the music industry influenced my entire career path. He is what brought me to one of my greatest friendships, with aforementioned manager James. And his kindness, generosity and enthusiasm made me realize, at a formative age, how simple it is to treat people well. I know those are the traits that drew his wife to him, and that his two young daughters will grow up to embody those traits.In the past week I realized they may get to know their sweet Papa the way I did – through his music, the music he loved, the things he wrote, the things people wrote about him, and through the things he left behind. I just hope they don’t find the “Jackass” tapes until they’re a bit older.
A few of my favorite Deano and Magic Dirt moments:
Speed Racer was actually totally fucking awesome. I saw it at my favorite movie theater, the Red Vic, which shows a great mix of movies – older classics, cult favorites, newer releases about 2 months after they’ve left theater but before they’re out on DVD, etc. We keep their monthly calendar pinned to the wall in front of the toilet, so every time I drop a deuce I read about what’s coming up. They also have the best black cherry soda in the world and they have free brewer’s yeast to put on your popcorn. This works out quite nicely since I usually pack my own bag of yeast to bring to the movies. People look at me, confused and judging. Not my fault they don’t want their popcorn to be EVEN MORE MAGICALLY DELICIOUS.
Right, Speed Racer. I loved this cartoon as a kid and when I heard Emile Hirsch was going to be in it, I was pretty stoked. When the Wachowskis decided to spearhead it, I got even more excited – even though I hate the Matrix, the special effects are pretty amazing. Add Christina Ricci as Trixie and my old pal Kick Gurry from Australia as Sparky the mechanic AND a real monkey (bew!) and you’ve got yourself a nice little film! The storyline was great, the actors were perfect (John Goodman and Susan Sarandon as the parents were a great match, and the wee little brother damn near stole the show), the script was hilarious and F me in the A, the effects were amazing! It was so entertaining to watch – super saturated colors, lots of great action and futuristic shit whizzing by, and of course, amazing car races.
Trixie’s style is not to be overlooked, either. Her fabulous bob, liquid liner, sequins, popping colors, pink helicopter, aviators, and, my favorite, the sexy leather gloves!
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