OF A GOLDEN AGE

Check out the description on this photo from the Smithsonian flickr account.

GQ‘s september cover subject is beautiful, intent James Franco. Even a goofy, ugly movie like Pineapple Express — including stripey stoner pants, some extra pounds, and that greasy shoulder-length torrent of hair — couldn’t make this guy unattractive. If this is his Monster his efforts to uglify have failed.

Profiler Chris Heath explains how after their interview, Franco sent him not one but two apologetic recon emails: the first a lengthy discussion of elaborate miscommunications he wants to avoid, and the second, two short sentences on his tendency to be too serious. Heath closes this way:

“Some people seem born to take things too seriously, and if taking things too seriously may sometimes cause needless upset and stain the path behind them, it may also bring rewards and results rarely sought in this flabby go-with-the-flow, follow-your-dream, find-your-joy era. If you act as though everything you do really matters, with all the time and thought and furrowing of brows that James Franco brings to his endeavors, there’s always the chance that in the end it might.”

In a real inevitable facepalmer, over a thousand Chicago children and their parents protested disparate school funding by trying to register at the quintessential filthy-rich suburban school: New Trier.

The campus they chose is in Northfield, a few blocks from where I used to work. Wealth and snobbery are palpable in the area and it’s disgusting. Even as a student at a mediocre-but-okay rural school I realized how unfair New Trier and schools like it are, let alone for children of ANY real disadvantage who are attending notoriously poor Chicago public schools.

Man, fuck New Trier. The article is very careful to point out that the protest isn’t about New Trier but rather the disparities in general, but that isn’t really true, I don’t think. New Trier is an attitude, and a bad one at that. The haves often believe they’ve really earned their status even when they’re 14 years old.

And I for one am beyond impressed with the wherewithal of these students and parents for taking buses into the intimidating, snooty north suburbs to make a big statement. The city is finally watching.

(title from Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck)

This is where I drove, roughly but for the most part accurate.

Since my brain became independent, my family’s car trips have taken us south and west but never east, leaving me with no real impression of the northeastern United States past what I gleaned from school and pop culture. This was, of course, grossly inaccurate.

Genghis described Indianapolis better than I would have — he says that with most cities, you approach from far away and the city looms larger and larger. With Indianapolis, what you see from far away is what you get up close: “It’s to scale,” Genghis says. This phenomenon of faraway approach only really applies to cities in flatlands though, and it does not get much flatter than the drive from Chicago to Indianapolis. I stayed at a Best Western.

The drive from Indianapolis to the Erie area crosses Ohio, where I saw at least 20 state troopers behind stopped cars or radar guns. Once in Edinboro, an exurb populated mostly by an art-heavy state university, I saw just how heavily western Pennsylvania resembles the rural midwest. It looks a little poorer and has more empty shops along the road; it’s also a little hillier. Otherwise these towns could be in Illinois where I grew up.

On the way to Tarrytown (New York suburbia), I-80 started to look like the road to El Dorado, winding through mountains and absurdly picturesque valleys. The Tappan Zee bridge from New Jersey to New York gave a very solid endpoint to the drive — I literally crossed over to my destination and ended up booking a room at a Comfort Inn in Hawthorne.

After a night of no sleep, Scrabble, and bad movies (including the abominable Trust the Man and something also with Steven Seagal) with an old friend, I staggered through some crunchy suburban traffic to Paramus, New Jersey. Check-in at the Marriott Courtyard wasn’t for a few hours so I saw Hamlet 2, uneven but very funny in case you were wondering, at the Garden State Plaza mall.

Saturday meant driving back to Edinboro, where I stayed at the brand-new Comfort Suites. At some point in New Jersey I-80 became a gummed-up mess with miles of backed-up traffic, and I veered off onto county roads. This might be my favorite part of the drive.

Sunday the sun shone directly on my left arm and leg for the entire six-hour drive, which means it turned into a seven-hour drive as I pulled over to rehydrate and avoid heat stroke. (No A/C in this kid’s 12-year-old starter vehicle.)

Crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge cost $4.50. The drive back through Ohio cost $6.00 and Indiana cost $6.75. Finally, the Chicago Skyway — another bridge welcoming me to my destination — was $4.25. Chicago, unlike Indianapolis, is a city you see for a while. It overwhelms with its bigness as you approach, and I drove up Lake Shore Drive through Sunday holiday-weekend traffic just to revel in the energy of the homecoming. My city! So nice to see you and to finally stop scanning the radio for something good.

This week’s This American Life rerun is brilliant. It might even be listed on their “Best Of” page, I’m not sure.

In it, a former professional medical test subject, a self-described guinea pig, explains why he never did psychiatric-drug studies:

“The phrase is ‘brain sluts.’ It’s more harsh than most guinea pigs would use, but I think it’s disgusting because they’re becoming retarded for money. I’m just very sensitive about the mind. I personally don’t lay it out for rent.”

Download the episode from this page.