Influential Me

It is no lie to say that my photo is included in the latest issue of Fast Company magazine, the one with Lance Armstrong on the cover, on page 138, in a section about Social Media's New Stars. (Yes, that's how it's referred to on the cover.) Inside, an article is called "The New Influentials," and it's all about the "unexpected players" who "exert outsize impact and power online." As the magazine asks, "Who is the most influential person online?" Well, according to Fast Company, I'm one of them. That much is all true.

Of course, the full story is that I'm one of 32,955 people who entered themselves in an "experiment" to determine who was the most influential person online, and I'm one of 29,795 people who also submitted a photo, and therefore were included in a four-page spread in the magazine. Those who, through a combination of clicks and signups, were deemed the most influential, have their photos a little bigger than those of us who are not in the upper echelons, but my photo does actually happen to be in the top third of all those on the page. (Thankfully, I'm not in the bottom third, where the photos are so small they're unrecognizable.) If Shaquille O'Neal is No. 1,709 and I'm just one row below him, that's gotta mean I'm up there — relatively speaking, of course. And if that's not enough, the web site says I'm in the 94th percentile, so that's definitely up there.

I mean, the whole thing was nothing more than a virtual popularity contest, but still ... it's pretty cool, right?

Happy Birthday, EW!

In the new issue of Entertainment Weekly, which hit newsstands and my mailbox yesterday, Managing Editor Jess Cagle notes in his editor's letter that the magazine celebrated its 20th birthday this month. It's a significant milestone, and even though my only connection to the magazine is as a reader, I still feel like celebrating.

In fact, I've been an EW reader since that very first issue in February 1990, and have read every single issue mostly cover-to-cover (all 1,092 of them). During these 20 years, I've spent some summers away from home, and I changed my address or bought duplicate copies during those times so I could stay in the loop and wouldn't miss anything. At one point, about 10 years ago, when I was in my hoarding days, I had actually saved every issue of the magazine, and the day my parents asked me to get rid of them (i.e.: to throw them out) because they were selling their house and couldn't lift the heavy boxes, was a real bummer. I do, however, still own issue No. 1, with k.d. lang and Nena Cherry on the cover, and a few others I just couldn't part with. Reading the issue on a Monday was one of my favorite parts of commuting to work, so now that I don't have a commute during which I can read, I've made it a bit of a habit to spend my Saturday lunches sitting at Finagle a Bagel reading the latest issue. In short, I'm a bit of an obsessive fan when it comes to Entertainment Weekly.

In the summer of 1996, shortly after my graduation from college, I actually had an interview for a job at EW. To say I was excited is an understatement, and unfortunately, I let that get the better of me. (Perhaps the fact that I didn't watch ER or The X-Files, the mag's obsessions at the time, also did me in. It'd be like if I interviewed now and didn't know what Twilight is.) From time to time, I wonder about the ways my life would be different if I had gotten that job. I'd likely be living in New York now, and perhaps I'd even be an editor there (or at some other magazine). Maybe I wouldn't like the magazine as much if had to work there, and was reading it as a job instead of a hobby. Who really knows.

One thing is for sure: My life would probably be less fun if EW had never come along. Sure, I'd probably find some other way to channel my entertainment passions, and I'd never know what I was missing. But EW makes being a fan of entertainment more enjoyable, and for that I say thank you to all the writers, editors, photographers, and designers who have worked for the magazine all these years. Congrats on this exciting milestone.

One Degree Closer?

I was reading the new issue of Entertainment Weekly this weekend, and in a Q&A with actress Kyra Sedgwick, who is, of course, married to Kevin Bacon, I saw this exchange:

Do you pay attention to your press?
My husband is a Google Alert guy. He has one on himself and me. I'm like, Dude, I don't want to know what people are saying.

So I just wanted to test that out. If you're reading this, Kevin or Kyra ... Hi there! How's it going?

I Feel the Need ... the Need to Read

It's hard to believe that I've only been at my new job for a week and a half now. It feels like longer, and I mean that in the best possible way. Really. But of all the things I expected to miss, not surprisingly, the thing I miss the most is my commute. Which is not to say I'm unhappy with driving a half hour each way versus spending 45 minutes to an hour on the T. In fact, I quite enjoy driving to work, spending my mornings getting some extra time with Matty and the gang, and getting home at night before 6 p.m. No, what I miss is that quality time I had to read all my magazines. Would you believe I'm still trying to make my way through a two-week-old issue of Entertainment Weekly? My new issue of Rolling Stone showed up yesterday and I have no clue when I'm going to read that. God help me when my other magazines show up in the mail.

I know what you're thinking: It's a terrible problem for anyone to have. And yes, I'm definitely in mini-crisis mode. What's made the situation worse is that Monday I decided I would start bringing magazines with me to work so I could read during lunch. Of course, that night, How I Met Your Mother put the kibosh on that plan (see below). So, maybe I just won't read as much as I used to. Maybe before long I'll start canceling some of my subscriptions. Or maybe I'll just have to watch less TV and make more time to read at home. Whatever I do, I guess it's safe to say I won't be reading a magazine at work anytime soon. Thanks, Marshall.

Passed Over Again and Again and Again

Great. Another year and another shun. For the umpteenth year in a row (yes, it has been about umpteen years), People magazine has passed me over for the title of Sexiest Man Alive. Last year I could take solace in the fact that I had been named Time's Person of the Year just a few months earlier. This year, no such luck. Why? Well, today I found out that not only was I not sexy enough for People but that I also was not stylish enough to be called one of the 25 Most Stylish Bostonians by the Boston Globe. And even worse, I also found out that I didn't even rate a slot in the 2009 calendar of Nice Jewish Guys. Jeeeeeeez. That one hurts most of all. I mean, not only am I nice and Jewish, but I'm also a guy! What do I have to do to get some love around here?

Out of Town Goes Out of Town

Well, this sucks. When you think of Harvard Square, chances are good you think of Out-of-Town News, that iconic newsstand located right in the heart of the square. For more than 50 years, it's been right there at the top of the escalator after getting off the T. With the store closing later this month, the Square loses not just a landmark but also more of its character. It's true, I'm not a big fan of Cambridge, and I like Harvard Square a lot less now than I did when I was in college, but I know a loss when I see it. I never took that newsstand for granted and can remember (though not in any specific terms) countless times when I stood there browsing the new issues, often buying them too. I'll miss Out-of-Town News — much more than the nearby Crate & Barrel, which is also closing — and I'm sure I'm not alone in that sentiment.

No, Thank You?

I got my latest issue of Esquire in the mail yesterday, and it came with one of those wraps around it. Since it was about three weeks after the time when I usually get my issue, I figured this was a notice telling me to pay up or else my subscription will end. Nope. "Dear Valued Reader, I appreciate you being a reader of Esquire," the letter began. It continued, telling me that I will get guaranteed savings and unlimited delivery — and oh, I don't have to do anything right now to ensure that. This notice was just for my records.

Alright, fine. Thanks, Esquire. But if I'm such a valued reader, why couldn't you have sent me my issue on time and sent this non-urgent notice separately? The biggest value of being a subscriber — other than the convenience of having the issue delivered to my mailbox, and the lower price I pay for all the issues — is having the issue delivered, if not before, then at the same time the issue hits the newsstand. Esquire, please don't be like Rolling Stone, which usually comes about a week after the issue hits newsstands (and that magazine is bi-weekly!). Just get me my issue on time and I'll continue to be a happy subscriber. Thanks.

X Marks the Spot

I've always been kind of fascinated by reading about myself. Or rather, articles and books that discuss my generation or groups I'm a part of. So that's why I chose Jeff Gordinier's X Saves the World: How Generation X Got the Shaft But Can Still Keep Everything from Sucking as my latest book to read. I've now finished it (hooray!) and wanted to weigh in.

In the book, Gordinier posits that Generation X, the generation that's often perceived as misunderstood, hard to categorize, and largely ignored, has the unfortunate luck of being sandwiched between the self-centered Baby Boomers and the self-centered Millennials. And because it's often pigeon-holed as being forgotten, the accomplishments of Gen X are often overlooked. To wit: members of Gen X created YouTube, Google, Wikipedia, and Craigslist. Zines, a Gen X creation, were the progenitor of blogs. Netscape changed the face of Web browsing. Jon Stewart, Barack Obama, Kurt Cobain, and Dave Eggers are all members of Gen X. In essence, we, the members of Generation X, have a lot to be proud of.

So why are we always overlooked? Gordinier's major thesis is that it's because Boomers and Millenials keep hogging the spotlight, either by comparing their accomplishments to ours (Boomers) or by adopting and assuming ownership of our creations (Millenials). "The boomers never came up with anything that approaches the hugeness of Google," he writes. "John Lennon got bitch-slapped for saying the Beatles were bigger than Jesus, but Google ... gives God a run for His money." Gordinier, also an editor-at-large at Details magazine, adds that we are a generation that doesn't want or crave attention, and we're happy to make change happen quietly, almost under the radar, if it brings us personal satisfaction. Getting attention isn't the goal, like it is for so many Millenials (Paris Hilton takes a pretty big — albeit expected — hit for that), and that only serves to make our accomplishments that much more significant. And that's also probably why you may not have heard of the Poetry Bus, for example, which gets almost as much space in the book as Nirvana and Lauryn Hill.

Amid the pop culture and political references and recaps of case studies we've heard before, Gordinier makes a moderately effective call to action, and says we're nearing the time when Gen X can reclaim its rightful place in the world. "The Bush crowd will be gone soon, and then we can pounce," he writes.

I'm not sure the book is as compelling as I'd hoped it'd be, but it's a pretty easy read and it oftentimes reaffirms the belief that Generation X is not a bunch of slackers. I wish the book was more rallying cry or manifesto like it is at the very end, but there's something to be said for learning from others' example. Sure, I may not have changed the world like some people have, but that doesn't mean I can't be proud to be associated (in the most minimal of connections) with the people Gordinier includes. And hey, like the author encourages, maybe my time is coming. Stay tuned.

(And if you want to hear more about this book, here's a video of Gordinier explaining what it's all about.)

Still My Favorite, Week After Week

Entertainment Weekly is out this week with its 1,000th issue. It's a double issue, so it's really the 999th and 1,000th, but the point is, EW has put out that many issues. And what I think is pretty cool is that I've read every single one of them just about cover to cover. Until last year, I didn't read many books, but I certainly did read magazines, and since its first issue in 1990, EW has been my bible. I'm a real geek when it comes to this pub. It's the first magazine I read every week when I'm commuting to work. Actually, I wouldn't say I read EW — it's more like I devour it. Often I can't wait to see it in my mailbox at home, so I'll stop off at Barnes & Noble on Friday night to see what's on the cover and skim through the latest issue. I take offense when EW doesn't like a movie or CD I love, and give a small cheer when our tastes are in synch. EW has given me great pleasures, like Michael Slezak's "Idolatry" series and Josh Wolk's Cabin Pressure. I get a little sad when there's a double issue and I know another one won't arrive for two weeks. At one point, I owned every single issue of this magazine — that was in 2000 or so, so there were plenty (and those boxes were heavy). I still own EW issue number one, with k.d. lang and Nena Cherry on the cover (it's right there on my bookshelf), as well as all the year-end recaps since year one. So congrats to my favorite magazine for reaching this impressive milestone. I look forward to reading the next issue. And the one after that. And the one after that. And the one after that ...

"King" of Broadway

The announcement today that Whoppi Goldberg will host the Tony Awards this year reminded me that I never put up a link to my story about likely nominee Lin-Manuel Miranda, creator and star of the Broadway show In the Heights. Lin-Manuel, who is only 28, started writing his show when he was a sophomore at Wesleyan and never expected to act in it. But his collaborators found that no one knew the show's freestyle raps as well as he did, and thus, somewhere along the way to Broadway, Lin-Manuel became the star. The rest, as they say, is history.

A quick anecdote: The first time I called Lin-Manuel, I got his outgoing voice mail message. It gave a quick idea of what kind of guy he was. "Hello, you've reached [with an accent] Lin-Manuel Miranda, or in English, Lin-Manuel Miranda. Leave a message at the beep." For some reason, I found that really funny. When we spoke, Lin-Manuel was quick-witted, fast-talking, and very engaging; it was a really enjoyable interview. And for more insights about Lin-Manuel, check out his YouTube channel, where you can watch, among other things, Lin-Manuel lip-synching and dancing to "King of Wishful Thinking" from the Pretty Woman soundtrack. Actually, the video is so priceless that I've embedded it below.

Anyway, here's a link to my article so you can read it if you'd like. We'll find out Tuesday morning if Lin-Manuel is among those who've been nominated for a Tony. I'd wish him all the luck in the world, but I really don't think he needs it. Chances are good this guy will collect not just one but a couple statues when they're awarded next month. Good for him.

Back to Books

The nice thing about having a longer commute is that I get a lot more time to read now than I had when I took the C line from Coolidge Corner. In fact, I get almost double the time. It means I can plow through the latest issues of Entertainment Weekly in a day, for example. But then it leaves me with all sorts of time to fill. So, I've gotten back on the book-reading train. Perhaps you'll be amused to know that while I dove right in to A.J. Jacobs' The Year of Living Biblically last summer, I hadn't read much of it since the end of October. Well, now, nearly six months later, I've finally finished the book. Yeah, it sure did take me long enough. But now I'm wondering what I'll read next. Thankfully, I have a cleaned-up bookshelf full of options. Perhaps I'll go back to Honeymoon with My Brother. Maybe I'll finally read Tom Perotta's Little Children. Or maybe it's finally — finally! — time for me to read Faithful, Stephen King and Stewart O'Nan's document of the 2004 Red Sox season. Something tells me I'll leave those on the shelf and instead pick up a fun little collection called Things I've Learned from the Women Who've Dumped Me. That might be just the book I need to ease me back into this habit.

Somewhere in the Middle

Good news: The Boston Phoenix again left me off their list of the 100 unsexiest men of the year, instead choosing to give the distinction to folks like Mike Huckabee, Project Runway winner Christian Siriano, and Bret Michaels. But I'm confused. The Phoenix thinks I'm not unsexy, and People thinks I'm not sexy enough. Does that make me just average?

Raise this Roof

Hey there. Just a quick plug because an article I've written is now live on the Interweb for you to read and enjoy. It's about the new Broadway production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which for the first time features an all-African-American cast. I interviewed Debbie Allen (who you most likely know from the TV show Fame), and, well, you can see what she had to say right here.

He's Still the Man

I've written previously of my great respect and admiration for George Clooney — not a man-crush, but a real appreciation for the man — and if you want further proof of why I think he's just so damned cool, all you have to do is read Joel Stein's article in the new Time magazine. Here's the scenario: Clooney accepted an invitation to have dinner at Joel's house, and the two (plus Joel's wife) downed about four bottles of wine, ate near-raw rack of lamb, and clearly had a great time over the course of about five hours. Oh, and when an alarm of some kind went off, Clooney went all through the house to look for it. (If you follow the link, you can watch the video of him doing so.) Well ... color me jealous. How I would love to have been at the table with them, or to have the opportunity to hang out with George myself (with or without his girlfriend). Read the article and I'm sure you'll feel the same.

I'm Too Sexy for People

DAMMIT! I was overlooked again for the title of People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive. I figured when the Boston Phoenix left me off their 'Unsexiest' list that it was a good sign and I actually had a chance. But now People has gone and given the honor to Matt Damon of all people. Jeez Louise. What's a guy gotta do to get a little lovin' from those folks? At least I can still say I was Time's Person of the Year. That's probably a better honor anyway. And I suppose it could be worse. At least I wasn't named one of the Frigid 50.

Monster Man

The new Continental magazine is now on planes, and in it is my profile of Roger Bart, who you may recognize from his roles as Carmen Ghia in The Producers, George the psychotic pharmacist on Desperate Housewives, or the federal prosecutor who gets into it with Russell Crowe in American Gangster. Bart was a really fun interview, and I’d like to think the story at least partly captures that.

Because of a limited word count, there was much I couldn’t fit into the story. One thing Bart and I talked about at length was the idea that as a character actor, people really have no idea what he’s like off-stage and off-camera. The main reason for that is Bart’s decision to keep taking on roles that are way out there. “One of the reasons I’m most comfortable with those roles — and most character actors are — is because I find myself very liberated when I’m behind a character,” he told me. “The cool thing about not having the world know me is that I can continue to leak aspects of my personality out, and whatever I want to expose, I have more control over that. People who know me very well say, ‘Well, that’s where he begins and ends, and everything else is just a funny hat.’ The more mysterious you are to the public, the more you can get away with.” And we laughed at the fact that a guy so well known for playing such effeminate roles (see also Stepford Wives) also starred in Hostel: Part II, where he was castrated and got to say such lines as “I am fucking Hercules!”

As I noted above, Bart also has a brief role in American Gangster, where he gets to bark his dialogue at Russell Crowe, who he also shared the screen with in The Insider. Here's a quick anecdote Bart told me about reteaming with Crowe: “This is the second movie I am in with Russell Crowe. In the first one, he was a little rude to me, and this time I get a chance to say ‘fuck you’ to him. So when we were reading it, he turned to me and said, ‘You’ve been dying to say this to me ever since The Insider, haven’t you?’ And I said, ‘Yes, I have.’”

Anyway, the reason for the article is that Bart has stepped into the Gene Wilder role in Mel Brooks' new Broadway adaptation of Young Frankenstein. “This whole show is, for me, a statement about stem cell research. [Director] Eli Roth told me Hostel 2 was about Hurricane Katrina. So that’s where I’m coming from,” Bart joked with me. Seriously, though, I hear Frankenstein is really good; I'll be seeing it in early December and will let you know what I think then. For now, if you'd like to read it, you can find my article here.

Fact: This Is Funny

Fact: This is a pretty dead-on parody of what it's like to be a fact-checker, right down to the banana-eating editor (I don't eat bananas, but my editor does). As someone who has spent a fair amount of time fact checking (though not to this extreme), and who manages the team of fact-checkers at my company, I have to give this film high marks. Kudos to its creators, Peter Karinen and Brian Sacca. I particularly love that the editor is played by Kristen Schaal, from Flight of the Conchords. Enjoy!

Not the Best

The Improper Bostonian has done it yet again. In their new "Best of Boston" issue, they've gone and chosen The Cactus Club as the best margarita. I've been to the Cactus Club a few times, usually because I want to see for myself what all the fuss is about year after year. And every single time — every single time — I leave disappointed. It's not just that the margaritas themselves aren't great, it's that they're served in pint glasses, like a beer. What kind of margarita is that?? In past years that was partly why they awarded it best margarita. But lest you think my beef is all about the glasses, it's not. These just aren't good drinks. They're bland and basic, and they taste like they're made from a mix and dosed out in bulk. And it couldn't be any more obvious that the only reason why Cactus Club is chosen for this "honor" year after year is because they're a loyal advertiser — that, or because their Web site URL is actually BestMargaritas.com.

For my money, the best margs in town are at Border Cafe in Harvard Square. They're far more flavorful, much more intoxicating, and (shocker) they're actually served in margarita glasses. I wish the folks at the Improper would venture outside their "pay for play" bubble one year and give them a shot.

Love Is ... a Good Book

I don't read books. People ask me all the time, "What's the last book you read?" And my response is always "I don't read books." It's not that I don't read. In fact, I devour magazines on a weekly basis — Entertainment Weekly, Rolling Stone, Esquire, Improper Bostonian, etc. But I've never had much patience for or time to devote to books. Of course, this hasn't stopped me from accumulating quite a library of books that I hope one day to read. So every time I go on vacation, I bring one with me, but I never get that far (it's happened recently with Franz Wisner's Honeymoon with My Brother and Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott's Which Brings Me to You). I think the last book I read from start to finish was Dave Egger's A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, and that was, like, six years ago.

So why am I mentioning all this now? Well, I don't want to jinx it or anything, but I may just be on the verge of finishing another book: Rob Sheffield's Love Is a Mix Tape. Rob is a contributing editor at Rolling Stone (he writes the "Pop Life" column) and he's been a commentator on MTV and VH1. The book is Rob's memoir about he and his late wife, Renee, who had nothing in common but a love of music, and Rob tells the story by using the various mixes he made for her (or she for him) as a uniting theme. As he writes, "Every mix tape tells a story. Put them together and they add up to the story of a life." I'm sure years from now I'll be able to remember certain times of my own life based on mixes I've made (and not just Xmas ones). That's the idea behind the book, and given that it takes place in the early 90s, the lists of artists on the tapes gives the book a definite sense of time and place. There's even a chapter devoted to the weekend Kurt Cobain died.

Basically, Mix Tape is a love letter to Renee and to music, and whether you're a romantic, a music lover, or just like good memoirs, the book is great. It's written in a conversational tone, making it fast-moving and, at times, hard to put down. At the end of each chapter, I found myself eager to read just one more. Usually I struggle to finish chapters and can't wait to put down the books. I found out about Mix Tape when it was excerpted in GQ in the January 07 issue. I don't usually get affected by books or magazine articles (other than those that make me laugh), but I found myself tearing up a bit reading the excerpt.

It's been less than a week since I picked up Mix Tape, and I'm more than halfway through. I'd be surprised if I wasn't done with it in another week or two (not being on vacation anymore and all). I wish I could write a more convincing recommendation than this is. But suffice it to say, any book that gets me from start to finish has to be good. If you go to the book's web site you can read an excerpt and decide for yourself if it's worth picking up.

Update, 6/8: I've finished the book.

Closing the Book

I have to say, it's a real bummer when a magazine changes its positioning and you realize it's no longer for you. It's sort of like when you leave school for the summer and you have your good friends, but then when you return, you are the same but your friends have other interests and they leave you behind. (Don't try to tell me you don't identify with that.) Such is the case with Giant magazine, which is no longer a general entertainment magazine, one that I enjoyed reading.

I noticed something was up when Giant was redesigned pretty horribly in the middle of last year and the cover photos featured people like Beyonce, and P.Diddy. But those two, for example, are pretty mainstream, and the inside coverage still had a mix of subjects. I could say I was interested in about half of it each month. Then last month's issue, with Jennifer Hudson on the cover, was lackluster and almost completely uninteresting. And when I got the new issue in the mail tonight, featuring Eve on the cover and the new tagline "Urban Entertainment," I knew it was time to cancel my subscription.

It's not that I had developed such an attachment to Giant over the years, but just 12 months ago, this was a magazine that had people like Katie Holmes, Owen Wilson, Denise Richards, Jon Heder and Mischa Barton on its cover. It was a fun, somewhat juvenile read about movies I watched, music I listened to, and TV shows I was interested in. Its target audience was clearly 18–30 year-old men. The "fanboy" demographic. I even knew a couple people who worked there. By contrast, the new Giant is geared toward young Black men, and the people I knew are no longer on the masthead. Not surprisingly, there's almost nothing I want to read in the latest issue.

It's just a magazine, I know. But in a weird way, this feels like a betrayal of sorts. Sure, you could say I should have seen it coming, and in hindsight, yes, it's pretty obvious what direction the magazine was headed. But this is one of the most radical shifts of a magazine I've seen. And it comes in the same month that Premiere magazine is ceasing publication, so that's two magazines I read regularly that will no longer occupy a space on my coffee table.

I work in the magazine publishing world, so I can appreciate why and how magazines change their focus or positioning. But when it's this drastic — when a magazine totally turns its back on its readers and goes in a completely different direction — well, that's just not cool. And though I got no satisfaction from asking for a refund of what was left of my subscription money tonight (an $8 check is on its way, I'm told), I knew that was the only way to save face in this situation. I'm not going to continue to support my "friend" if it's not going to be loyal to me.