The First Echo

For those of you who didn't bother to get up at the buttcrack of dawn and endure endless commentary, here's the soundbite-lite, abridged version.



As a self-proclaimed Anglophile, I must say that I'm not disappointed to have missed the live feed. Sure, I was only a year old the last time something like this happened, but back then we didn't have streaming updates, DVRs, recap-filled websites, and instant photos.

Royal Friday = done.

H.P.M.

April 21, 2011 is a date to be remembered. It was on this day I made a startling discovery in the bathroom mirror, a moment for the personal record books: my first gray hair.

So this is what happens after 30? Not only does Top 40 radio start to annoy the shit out of you, your hair follicles decide to give up and retire? I'm not even a month past my 31st birthday, and Father Time decides to throw this at me, a reminder that life proverbially goes on. Interesting.

A huge thanks to Kaila and her trusty pair of tweezers for plucking out this little bugger during our drive to the Santa Monica stairs for a little evening cardio session. I'm not panicking over this recent development. Instead, I'm embracing it. Bring on the silver fox jokes, the geezer comments, the no-spring-chicken jabs. My name is Hiko, and I am aging - wonderfully.

Off to Floyd's for my monthly buzzcut,

H.P.M.

The year was 1996. Clinton was in office, the Rachel was taking hair salons by storm, and I was enjoying my first summer job working at Playland amusement park while obsessing over the popcorny awesomeness that was Independence Day.

I also found myself playing Alanis Morissette's "You Learn" over and over again, an iconic tune that quickly found its place on the Soundtrack of My Adolescence. Anthemic, cleverly produced, and most importantly, radio-friendly (at the time), the song is simply an exercise in repetition, a list of inspired suggestions meant to teach us that life is one giant classroom and we never stop being students. The video, in which our Canadian heroine causes a car accident, shoots some hoops, gets into a girlfight, and receives a Boston cream pie facial - in different colored track jackets no less - was a fixture on both MTV and VH1 and begs for analysis no matter how many times you watch it.

Let us flashback, shall we?

Rarely has a book spoken to me as much as Betsy Lerner's The Forest for the Trees. The 278-paged guide, "an editor's advice to writers," is unlike any other non-fiction/how-to/reference book I've seen. More than just a how-to-become-a-published-author tool for any writer who's ever slacked off, showed off, or struggled with their craft, it truly is a gripping insider's view on the whole publishing industry.

I happened to pick up this copy at an Everything-Must-Go sale at the Sherman Oaks Borders, one of the many that have been dropping like flies all over Los Angeles (don't even get me started on this depressing trend/development). There were several copies on display, and something about the paperback drew me to the shelf. Perhaps it was a subconscious need to find meaning in my current situation, an unspoken desire to understand why, at the ripe old age of 31, I continue to pursue a profession most people can't grasp as a complete, professional …

I am of the last generation of children who can remember what it was like to watch original network television programming on Saturday nights, particularly of the NBC sitcom variety. Before Saturday night became a junkyard of repeats, irrelevant specials, and low-rated reality fillers, it was once a comedic land of milk-and-honey. My earliest memories hark back to the late 80s when The Facts of Life aired first-run episodes, kicking off a two-hour block of sitcoms that came and went: 227, Amen, Gimme a Break, the short-lived Throb (anyone?), Empty Nest, Nurses, Mad About You... These were usually followed by a 10pm drama (Hunter, then Sisters, then The Pretender) which usually heralded my bedtime.



But the grandaddy (or grandmommy) of Saturday night sitcoms, for me and countless others, was - and will always be - The Golden Girls.

Upon re-watching the series from the beginning on DVD - a luxury only unemployment or a freelance career can bestow - I've learned a few things about the…

"Most girls usually spend their sweet 16 obsessing over the right dress, partying all night with friends, and if Mommy and Daddy are financially stable enough, enjoying a pimped-out new ride they can show off at school the next morning.

Not Saoirse Ronan. The star of the upcoming action-thriller Hanna spent her 16th birthday beating up Eric Bana, jumping out of windows in Berlin, Germany, and then squeezing in a Lady Gaga concert at the end of her hectic day..."

And so begins my first interview feature for Campus Circle. I recently sat down with the stars of the upcoming Hanna, Saorise Ronan and Eric Bana, for a chat. You can read the rest of it here.