Author: nell-boeschenstein

Music snobs are the worst; usually, I’ll stay as far away from music blogs as I do from rabid wild animals. In both cases, I fear for my safety: Make the wrong move, say the wrong word and—bam!—there goes that needed limb.

Regardless, the Spanish site El Diablo Tun Tun is different. There is no pontificating on what is cool and what is not for unknown reasons as defined by questionably qualified people. Instead, it’s a music blog that is (gasp!) all about the music. The two contributors, “Cocaleca” and “Barrabas,” remain anonymous and offer no information about themselves. As to the actual posts, there is no actual writing, no sentences or paragraphs. All that’s posted every three days or so is an album cover, the artist’s and the album’s names, a list of tracks on the album, and a link that will allow you to listen to an mp3 of the album. The music it features hails mostly from the United States and mostly from the 1910s to the 1960s. In terms of genre, El Diablo Tun Tun has a certain kitsch common denominator: country and western, Hawaiian, Cajun and New Orleans, although there is also plenty of jazz and gospel and blues. Recent tracks have included Reno & Smiley and the Tennessee Cut-ups, Jimmie Davis, Piano Red (a.k.a. Dr. Feelgood) and Pete Seeger.

Oh, and look there! There are links, too, to a bunch of other good music blogs. Excuse me, I have to go. A whole new world is opening up.

Gentlemen, there are two easy ways to impress me. The first is to do things I can do way better than I can do them, even though I can do these things reasonably well (like ordering just the perfect item on the menu or laughing at inappropriate times). The second is to do things that I can’t do at all.

First and foremost among the talents I wish I possessed was the talent to tell a good joke. It’s an art form, really, a talent honed over years and years that transforms into art. Which is why, even though they are strangers, anybody that appears on Old Jews Telling Jokes is somebody I want to know. The stripped down and sophisticated-looking site features a new video of an old Jew telling a joke every Tuesday and Thursday.

As the site’s editor explains, “Storytelling is a Jewish tradition…Jokes are like stories, but shorter and funnier…Some of the best ones provide a window to the culture of a bygone era. They can reveal the concerns of a generation… We set three rules for the production: the joke-tellers were to be Jewish, at least 60 years of age and they were to tell their favorite joke—the one that always kills.” The results are touching and human and hilarious and full of love. Larry Donsky, Louis Goldstein, Malcolm Busch, Diane Hoffman, you all have an open invitation to my next party. To any party.

I will admit that even though my father gave my sister and me each a copy of Suze Orman’s The Money Book for the Young, Fabulous, and Broke this past Christmas, reading about finance has never been something that I have taken to with relish or—on a more elementary level—comprehension. The words themselves don’t process and I don’t absorb the more general gist of the content of many articles I start then toss aside in, for example, The Wall Street Journal. Since I am a word person, I like to fault the writers of finance literature (if you can call it that) for failing me.

But, after all these years of believing I would never read anything about finance and either understand it or want to read it, I have found The Daily Bail, a website launched just a month ago that has been chronicling the bailout. Here, at long last, is a site about finance-related matters that I want to read both because it is teaching me about the bailout and because the writing is totally enjoyable and readable and accessible to the likes of me. Such appeal is no coincidence. On the site’s “About Page,” the writer addresses younger readers specifically: “A special message to young people finding us through Twitter…”

Lately, the blog has even taken a liking to old TJ, quoting him aplenty. Old Daily Bail seems to particularly enjoy the classic Jeffersonian quote: “I sincerely believe that banking establishments are more dangerous than standing armies…”

The other week I read that ad pages at The New Yorker are down 26 percent and that in the last issue there were only 10 pages of ads in the entire issue. This news hit me in the gut because I was suddenly faced with the prospect of what our reading landscape would look like if Condé Nast decided to shutter its pet project. Magazines are being hit hard by this economy, but we still need to support the things we love; I’m making a plea here for you to be vigilant about visiting your favorite magazines’ websites and, where you can, find ways to give cash accordingly.

Since I’ve already written in this space about The New Yorker’s site, I’m giving The Atlantic’s site the spotlight this time around. The site relaunched in October as a newer, brasher and hipper version of its old self (relaunching the magazine and rebranding itself simultaneously as The Atlantic as opposed to the more old school The Atlantic Monthly), while still maintaining its lauded level of political reporting and commentary. With bloggers like Ta-Nehisi Coates, Andrew Sullivan, James Fallows and Jeffery Goldberg, and in-depth articles on subjects from Chuck Schumer to Virginia Woolf, The Atlantic’s website keeps you almost as engaged and informed as having both the website and the magazine at your disposal would do. All I’m saying is that when you have to cut corners, you don’t have to cut them all.

I am not in the habit of hawking the commercial sites of major companies. But times are so tough that I am even feeling a little pain for The Man, and don’t feel as bad about giving AutoZone a shout-out as I might have in the past. Plus, AutoZone has a pretty great website. Especially for someone like me, who knows crap about cars. See, I would love to be one of those women who can hang with the men when it comes to talking brake fluid and carburetors. But alas…

I’ve just discovered, however, that AutoZone’s website facilitates a little fakery on the subject of “What you gonna do about that there pile a junk to make it run right?” The site’s “Repair Info” page is a total gem. It has comprehensive online repair information for pretty much any vehicle made since 1930, taking you through the process of choosing the year of your vehicle, the make, the model, the type of engine, and then giving you information on how to fix whatever the problem with that engine might be. If you don’t know yet what the problem is, you can click on the “Troubleshooting” link and tell the site what your vehicle’s ailment looks, feels, smells or sounds like, and the AutoZone monkeys in the computer will pinpoint what kind of problem they think you have on your hands.

Of course, you won’t tell anyone that monkeys figured it out for you. You can claim credit for having solved the problem yourself.

I think that it is fair to say that amidst all the wonderfulness that was the week of President Barack Obama’s inauguration, one of the single most moving moments was that of Pete Seeger (along with Pete’s grandson Tao Rodriguez Seeger and Bruce Springsteen) at the “We Are One” concert on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, leading that throng of people in an unedited version of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land.” It’s a song that brings out the best in this country, and Pete is a man who has worked tirelessly all of his nearly 90 years to bring us steps closer to making the lyrics of that song a reality for everyone, not just the citizens of this country, but the citizens of the world. In my opinion (and, I’m sure, in the opinions of many), Pete personifies what is noble and good about our country, the best of what it has to offer. 

With that introduction I point you in the direction of the website “A Nobel Peace Prize for Pete Seeger,” where you can sign the petition (currently at 21,783 signatures, including my own, and rising) to get Pete’s name thrown into the pot for an honor that he unquestionably deserves. I’m not going to waste words enumerating his accomplishments, but if you have any doubt as to why a Nobel Peace Prize should be his, just read the site. Either that, or rent the documentary Pete Seeger: The Power of Song that came out last year. His life—and the power of his soul—will leave you in awe.

For the sake of full disclosure, I should add that in the past few months I have been honored to have gotten to know Pete a bit, and you should know that he is everything you think he is and more. He is the real deal; he’s effing Pete Seeger.

I haven’t done the math, but my best guess is that the odds of starting a successful new magazine are about a kajillion times worse than the odds of starting a successful new restaurant. And that’s in a good economy. The odds are probably even worse now that long-established magazines are folding and nobody reads stuff anymore. Oops—the cynic just slipped out of me even as I am writing this column for the expressed purpose of plugging the cool idealist’s go-to media site.

I guess that the idealist in me would then counter that slip with the pertinent fact that GOOD, though struggling, is still surviving, and is thus evidence that people still may read stuff, and also, surprisingly, care about stuff that matters. GOOD is not just a magazine. It’s many things, including a website that is just as fun to read and converse with as the print magazine. In fact, GOOD is so difficult to explain that I may as well just use the company’s own words: “Since 2006 we’ve been making a magazine, videos, and events for people who give a damn. The website is an ongoing exploration of what GOOD is and what it can be.”

Indeed, the GOOD website is a collection of conventional short-form blog posts, videos, longer written content and event notices, all of which have an undercurrent of social responsibility and cultural caring. Recent posts included an interactive map of the United States with the title, “Passports: Who Has the Most?”,  “PETA Offers $10,000 for a Vegetarian Foie Gras Substitute” and “Cornography,” a video which briefly examines the United States’ dependency on corn. (The facts are amazing!) In a word, I guess I’d just have to say that GOOD is “good,” in more ways than one.

The moments I most love the Internet are not when I laugh at a stupid something or come across an odd fact or find yet another something I want to buy, but when—against all logic and intuition—I feel as though the Internet has somehow brought me closer to understanding the human condition. Really good sites that do just that are few and far between, but when you come across them, they are worth bookmarking and checking regularly. A friend recently pointed me in the direction of Media Storm and since she did, I have become addicted to the site, transfixed by the stories it tells.

Each story on Media Storm is told via top-notch photojournalism (and/or video), paired with audio and some text to fill in the narrative gaps. The segments run about 10 minutes long and are free, although longer versions of the stories are also available if you want to shell out some money, which in most cases is probably worth investigating. I say this because each and every story on this site is stunning in its artistic execution, and eye-opening and thought-provoking in its subject matter. It’s not funny stuff, or stuff that’s meant to be taken lightly. Instead, think stories about the Rwanda legacy, a story about an Iraqi soldier coming home, a story about addicts in Manhattan, a story about the children of Chernobyl, or a story about teenage love and pregnancy.

My personal favorite is a story called “Common Ground,” because it hits so close to Charlottesville. The story documents what happens when a farmer finally sells his land to a subdivision developer, the life that the farmer lived and the life that the family who moved onto his land lived, how those lives were different and how they were similar. Just like all our lives, really.

So, it’s the day before New Year’s Eve and, frankly, I am dreading tomorrow night. It is supposed to be an evening of wild debauchery and revelry, but if I see another alcoholic beverage within 20’ of me, I feel like I’m going to want to run screaming in the other direction. I am holiday-ed out. Too much eating. Too much drinking. My body has had enough.

My roommates and I were comparing bodily notes, all three of us bemoaning the sad state of our livers, when we decided to do something about our bodies apart from complaining. One roommate suggested a juice fast, and having known another friend who has sung its praises, I agreed. Our third roommate was soon on board as well. Come January 5 (we have a dinner party to host on the fourth), we are commencing our five-day juice fast. It will be hell.

That said, juice fasts should not be taken lightly, and so I have begun to do some preparatory research into how to go about such a fast. It’s no big surprise, but the place to learn about your 2009 juice fast is (drum roll) Juice Fasting Dot Org. Here you can find out about the healing powers of a variety of vegetables you might be curious about juicing (sweet potatoes, collards, spinach) or how to modify the fast with some food (slices of avocado or banana) or how it affects your metabolism (it can lower it). It also explains some of what is going on with your colon and intestines when doing the fast.

Truth be told, the people who run the site are a little loopy and New Agey, but maybe a juice fast is a little loopy or New Agey and so it just comes with the territory.

Trivia is a highly valued commodity in our culture. Just think of all the pastimes that revolve around it: “Jeopardy,” trivia nights at bars, Trivial Pursuit, um…yeah. Regardless, I firmly believe that we prize random facts if for no other reason than to satisfy the basic desire within us to impress the people we want to impress with the unexpected party trick that we know. For example, who Mary Queen of Scots was sleeping with in 1565 (Lord Darnley). Further evidence of this cultural pastime is the proliferation of quiz sites on the Interwebs.

The very best of which is perhaps Sporcle, a site that hosts (and posts) what it calls “mentally stimulating diversions.” Sporcle has got some nerd stuff, some pop culture stuff, some history stuff, some basic knowledge stuff. It’s a site that can quiz you on whether you are average, below average, or above average, when it comes to the facts your brain contains. Of course, the possible number of facts for your brain to contain is infinite, so Sporcle posts new quizzes every day, just to keep you on your toes. For example, in the more esoteric department, you can quiz yourself on people who have won the Grammy for Best New Artist, on Famous Fivesomes, on the States of Germany, Famous Sidekicks, or French Open Tennis Champs. In the basic knowledge department, you can quiz yourself on state capitals, countries of the world, the Periodic Table, and “The Simpsons.”

Never fear, however, if you are stupider according to Sporcle than you think you are (as I have found that I am): You can always practice. If you get stuck, Sporcle will give you the answers and you can take the test again another day. Then, before you know it, you will be the proud knower of all the Cereal Mascots you could ever want to know.