Author

Robert Hyma

Just a writer doing writerly things.

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Weekly Post-Ed #67

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

IN THE THICK OF IT

This will be a short and sweet Weekly Post-Ed. I’m in the middle of writing the final portion of my thesis and the deadline is next week Wednesday (!!). I’ll have much to comment on this thesis after the deadline passes, but one lesson has been painfully learned from embarking on this final project: In doing difficult things, all the parts about oneself that have remained easily hidden or ignored comes into the light.

And it ain’t pretty.

There’s a laundry list of characteristics for what I mean by this, but my God—I overestimated the effectiveness of all the organizational skills and personal talent that makes up for much of my work ethic. Grinding through this thesis has been an uncomfortable confrontation with many of my creative shortcomings. It’s been a cathartic and fulfilling experience–don’t get my wrong–but the ouch of this realization hasn’t worn off yet. I’ll be in the middle of it until the deadline next week, but one thing is clear going forward: My creative process could use a tune up.

I’ll be more specific in the coming weeks about my experiences. It’s an uplifting kind of thing, not to worry. Until then, send help in the guise of your comments–they help a lot.

***

ROBERT HYMA CASSEROLE

It’s not very often that a Weekly Post-Ed falls on one’s birthday, which is what today is.

Happy 35th birthday to me

*Holds for stadium applause*

Every year, it seems, I reflect on my life and what it feels like to be yet another year older. There isn’t a significant difference year to year, but sometimes reflecting on age comes up in unexpected places. In class a few weeks ago, the topic of my age came up and I told the truth. I’ve found that if the topic of my age comes up in college, I’m naturally asked as a followup, “What does it feel like to be in your 30s?”

It’s a silly question once you get into your 30s. What does it feel like? Being one’s thirties.

It’s like asking a tree, “What is it like to be a tree?”

And the tree responds, “Like tree. It feels like tree.”

Once you get there, you know. But it’s also disappointing to get older. There’s often no identifiable ribbon of achievement other than the dirge of wrinkles and slightly less elastic skin. Being in one’s thirties feels the same as one’s twenties–only, the number is printed higher than one feels. I feel just as mentally competent and sharp as I did in my twenties, with a sense of identity that hasn’t shifted all that much. The only difference has been a slew of new life experiences to add to the catalogue of what it means to be Robert Hyma.

I suppose that’s the difference: Experiences.

Really, age isn’t something trackable other than a number. What often changes is experiences, which is something added to the dish being prepared.

The best I can describe it, experience feels like something. I, Robert Hyma, don’t feel any different than I did a decade ago (as I’ve said), but there is a difference–one that I can feel. It’s like eating your favorite dish but someone added extra salt to it. Depending how you felt about the dish, maybe the extra salt helps. Or, maybe it makes the dish too bitter now. But there’s nothing to be done about it now: Someone added the salt (experiences) and that’s what the dish tastes like now.

Optimistically, it’s an amount of salt that doesn’t make or break the dish. It’s extra and can be ignored if you like, but you know it’s there if one is really straining to taste the extra pinch of salt.

Experience, then, is just an added neutral ingredient to age. I’m still me at 35—a dish called Robert Hyma Casserole (for better or worse)—but I’m also a bit of something else I can’t quite describe, lest I ask the cook what else was put into the main course this time around.

And on this particular iteration of Robert Hyma Casserole (my birthday, I mean, if I’m being too abstract), I’d rather not know if what I’m tasting is an extra pinch of salt. Right now, I like the dish.

It tastes just right. I wouldn’t change a thing.

***

ANY BIRTHDAY WISHES?

The most “old person” behavior in my adult life (that’s convenient enough for me to list, of course) is that I complain about my birthday like a crotchety geriatric that says, “I don’t want anything for my birthday!”

It’s true: I’ve reached a sum total of life pleasantries that I don’t need pine for anything more (outside of snap-decision items I purchase on a whim like fresh socks or elastic shoe strings–I’m not a monster, after all). And I realize my privilege by being in this position: There are many who don’t have the luxury of shrugging when family and friends ask what they can do for your birthday. Outside of some birthday gathering (in which I still assume the role of crotchety geriatric:
How long is party supposed to last?!”), I truly want nothing.

A birthday with nothing isn’t grounds for a pity party–it’s a celebration of just being. For once.

Which is what I really want for my birthday this year.

“To feel like tree,” a tree might say.

That’s what I want for me. And for you.

“Tree” as much as you need to “tree” today.

***

  1. “Open Up Wide” by Dizzy
  2. “Best Interests” by carmanah
  3. “She’s Too Cool for You” by Audio Book Club

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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Weekly Post-Ed #66

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

A NEW GAME TO PLAY

Over the past two weeks, I’ve been cold-approaching women in public. Cold-approaching is a term used in the pickup artist community; it means to go up to a person and begin a conversation. Ever since I started reading Neil Strauss’s The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists, I’ve been fascinated with all the things I never knew about being social (as opposed to the psychological toolkit proffered by pickup artists to optimally seduce women).

Courtesy of Amazon

I don’t fancy myself as someone who wishes to seduce (or could pull off the sorts of magic tricks, blatant techniques offered in the book).

But the social-skill aspect of approaching people…That has been fascinating to experiment with.

Some background: I wouldn’t call myself socially inept. I’m not clueless with how to speak to others, even women. Like many creative types, I’m predisposed to an introvert’s lifestyle, finding pleasure in time alone with hobbies/projects than seeking the battery refill of social interaction. That being said, when it comes to speaking to others, I have a fairly rote set of skills that aren’t up-to-date. Much of what I learned involves asking open-ended questions and keeping someone else talking. This is fine if my intention was small talk, or a polite conversation with a stranger, but when it comes to a more meaningful connection, asking questions is like a table with only three legs—it can stand upright but, you know, just barely.

The problem with wanting to test new social skills as someone older is there isn’t a steady place to practice. In my situation, I happen to have a burgeoning college campus full of students just waiting to be spoken with. So, setting out to try a few lessons from Neil Strauss’s book, I set out to test my skills this past week.

***

THE TOOLKIT

The first step was to apply a few useful tips from Strauss’s book. In no particular order, I sought to do the following:

Have an Opener: Really, just a rehearsed scenario that I could begin a conversation with. Here’s what I used:

“Hi, let me get your opinion on this. My sister’s birthday is coming up and I’m buying her a shirt she’s been wanting. I’m not sure if she’s a small or a medium, which size should I go with?”

It’s a solid opener because it invites a casual response (something that isn’t too difficult to have an opinion about) and appears harmless. It’s disarming and allows me to convey confidence in approaching a perfect stranger about this dilemma.

Set a Time Frame: Don’t just approach someone and gab on about something you’d like their opinion on. Most likely, a stranger is thinking two things when you approach: What does this person want, and how long are they staying around? So, to mitigate one of these concerns, it’s a good idea to disarm the concern that you’re not about to leave with a statement of how long you intend to stick around.

I used this one since I was on campus: “I only have a few minutes and then I have to get to my next class.”

I was skeptical that this would be so impactful, but I could see the tension drop away. A time frame was relieving. Who knew?

Don’t be Results Dependent: A huge problem with my previous social interactions has been expecting a certain result: exchanging phone numbers, assurance of a followup interection, acknowledgment that I was the most perfect man and how could I have not come along sooner…

(You can see some of the psychology for why it’s been a struggle. I haven’t, as Esther Peral famously prescribed, “calibrated expectations”.

With strangers, frankly anyone, I wanted to be the most likeable person who could win their affections. If you’ve tried this before, the results are obvious: If you’re desperate to be liked, not only do you appear disingenuous, but will fail miserably. Desperation is potent like Body Odor or blood in the water—people have a sense for it and it isn’t desired. Not socially, at least.

Letting go of results also takes away the pressure of approaching others—simply saying a few lines, playing with the conversation, and then saying, “Thanks. Nice to meet you,” are all acceptable ways of ending things if it isn’t going well.

And many times, things going poorly is as much about luck and chemistry as it is about social prowess.

Speak in Statements: Statements are the language of intimacy, I’ve come to realize. Statements take a stand. Friends talk to each other in statements. In fact, I’d wager the reason we love and care for our favorite heroes in stories is because they mostly speak in statements. It’s simply the door opening to the soul.

Questions are interrogative, like being on a job interview. I’m a great listener and question asker, which isn’t surprising—the writer in me is a natural investigative journalist. But being a great question-asker also means I don’t participate in conversation. Asking questions, I’ve realized, means I’m not offering anything to the conversation about myself. Essentially, I’m hiding behind the lopsided expectation that others should speak and I can sit back and watch them—like an audience. Is it surprising, then, that I’m the one to fall in love with others instead of their falling in love with me?

Of course: They’ve been making statements and have demonstrated character, while I’ve been most often anonymous and asking questions.

With this toolkit memorized, I set out to talk to women on campus.

***

IN THE FIELD

If the pieces of advice I listed above seemed intuitive enough, putting them into practice was a completely different experience. For example, I had not taken into account the entire lifetime of built up social fears and belief systems that made it impossible not to flounder on the first few approaches.

My first approach was with a fashion designer at a coffee shop. She had been reading a book about entrepreneurship and I started with a question, “What are you reading?”

She answered. I couldn’t recall what she said because I was petrified. Up close, she was prettier than I had anticipated. Everything I had coached myself to try had gone out the window. So, I reverted to my default social ability: I asked interview questions.

“Are you looking to start a business?”

“What other things have you designed?”

“Is this for college?”

On and on and on about her fashion dreams. And me? Nothing to report—I didn’t say anything about myself. I could have been an undercover IRS agent for all she knew, which is about how she looked at me after the fifth or sixth question. To my credit, though, I recognized the conversation wasn’t going well—certainly not organically—so I thanked her for her time and said it was nice to meet her.

A class crash and burn, but also a start of something. Where I might have just walked past this person’s table, I stopped and attempted a conversation. So, at least a passing grade with a first attempt.

Partial credit is better than none.

The second interaction this past week was on campus. Spotting a girl sitting in the warm sunlight outside of the library, I approached with an opener I had been turning over in my head. I mustered up the courage and then approached to say:

“Hi, I could really use your opinion on this. My friend was dumped by his girlfriend a few weeks ago, and he keeps texting me that he needs closure in order to move on. Should he text her about what happened?”

Ok, maybe a little too autobiographical for complete comfort, but it worked. She told me that it was never a good idea to try to get back or ask for closure with an ex (a sensible and correct answer). I asked if she’s ever had guys try to contact her after a breakup. She said no and that her mother always steered her right on these matters.

“Help my friend out,” I said, feeling more confident after sensing things were going well. “If you’re being approached by a guy, how should he come up to you?”

She thought for a moment and said, “Not like this. If I’m at a library, I’m working on something. At a coffee house, I’m just trying to get away and have a cup of coffee, maybe read.. If I want to meet a guy, I’ll go to a bar or to a club and go dancing. It makes sense to come up to me there. Anywhere else and it isn’t organic.”

I was surprised by her answer, organic. “You wouldn’t want to be approached at the library? Even if it was Downey Jr. coming up to you?”

She smiled. “Well, that’s different.”

I laughed. “Ok. So, at a bar or a club. Is that where you meet guys?”

She dropped her smile. “Oh, I’m not 21. But, yeah, that’s how I would want to meet guys.”

Ouch, that age difference between her and I. Yes, it was time for me to leave. “Well, I have to run to class, but thank you—I’ll tell my friend what you said.”

“Hey, what class are you going to?”

I smiled. Yes, the hook; the point where she’s interested and asks a question about me. I hadn’t expected this moment, but was flattered that it had come. Too bad the age gap between us was about 13-14 years—something I’m not willing to pursue. I said a class, the lie was white and innocent, and I took my leave.

And gave myself full credit as I walked on.

***

DRUNK TESTING

Whether cold-approaching does anything for my social life, the jury is still out. It’s true that I have more confidence since trying some of the approaches from Neil Strauss’s book, but this could also be an uptick in confidence due to experience. I’m not convinced that any of these prescribed techniques works for me specifically, but I am also at a crossroads in life and trying something new is entirely worthwhile.

The process of cold-approaching, like anything that’s been worth doing in my life, has been the most fun anyways.

Over the weekend, I travelled to Detroit to visit a few friends. I talked about cold-approaching at an Irish pub, and after a few Guinness’s each, we each took turns pretending to cold-approach the table as though we were striking up a conversation with a bunch of strangers. Each attempt was more ridiculous than the last, and we never were convincing to one another. It didn’t matter—after every try, we all sat down to laugh at how ridiculous we looked and sounded. It was great fun.

I realized on the drive back to my friends’ apartment that the fun rested entirely in the aftermath of any of this cold-approaching business. It was never about being successful with women or being considered a social darling—it was all about the fun of having an experience and sharing it with some close friends. We were all drunk, having a great time, and there wasn’t much else that mattered (besides getting home safe).

I’ll have to test some more in the coming weeks, but I did discover a new technique for mitigating the anxiety of approaching others: When one is hungover with blistering headache, there isn’t much energy left to care about how socially graceful you are.

So cheers to me and you, my friend: To more adventures, wherever they may be.

***

Justin Timberlake’s “Everything I Ever Thought It Was” album, courtesy of Spotify

Justin Timberlake’s new album “Everything I Ever Thought It Was” album released over the past week. It’s wonderful. Everyone should have a listen. I’ll listen the three tracks I’ve had on repeat, but the album is truly a work of renown.

In a sweeping series of promotions, Justin Timberlake also featured on NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert series, reprising some golden favorites. It’s a fantastic use of 25-minutes of your life to give it a watch. I’ll include a link.

  1. “No Angels”
  2. “Sanctified (feat. Toby Nwigwe)”
  3. “Selfish”

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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Weekly Post-Ed #65

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

SEASONS CHANGE

In the past week, the temperature in West Michigan rose to 72 degrees in Allendale, and dipped to below freezing with mild snow showers the very next day. It was the most bipolar weather conditions I’ve seen in winter here. Things have normalized since then, thankfully, but it was a sign of seasons changing: This Sunday the clocks roll forward an hour for Daylight Savings Time, March 19 is the first day of spring, and in three weeks I’ll be turning 35-years-old.

Seasons are changing.

In a month in a half, I will have graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in English Literature, launching into a new season of my life. Perhaps this is a characteristic of age, but the newness of change is less frantic or scary than it used to be. I’ve been through significant change more than I can count at this point, so the thought of leaving campus to head out into the real world isn’t so intimidating.

It is, however, intimidating to many of my classmates—most of whom are 14-15 years my junior.

Attaining a BA in English Lit has been wildly different than my first go-around with college. Instead of pursuing a degree in my early twenties, I went out in the world confident that I could do without one. This was true to an extent (I certainly could have committed to numerous career paths outside of a degree of some sort). The truth is that choices are limited without a slip of paper to get into other fields. With some luck, I was able to return to to college in my thirties, which was a radically different experience. Instead of being concerned with forming an identity and the constant anxiety of who I fit in with. I was free to do the work–which was the benefit of working in all those odd jobs: Showing up and completing a day’s work is the extent of responsibility. In the many years I spent working as as a freelance writer, in advertising, and as a preschool teacher, I found there was a common theme with every workplace and its hierarchy of people and rules: Every place is different and there’s no telling what it’s like until you’re in the thick of it.

Call it life experience or wisdom from age, but the road one takes is always going somewhere. In my experience, there isn’t much need to worry about where you’ve come from.

That’s why I’m always taken aback by the epidemic of fear of failure pertaining to test scores/assignments/papers and final grades. In the logistical sense of applying for scholarships (money for tuition), grades matter, but this concern is always insulated—no one outside of college cares about grades other than which university you acquired them from.

I spoke with a classmate in my thesis class who was convinced that the rest of her life was dependent on our professor’s decision pass or fail us. “Our professor has the power to decide what happens to me, doesn’t that scare you?” she asked me.

No. Of course not. That’s because college is another season of life—and like most seasons, you experience them while they occur but without much memory for when they change. Do you remember last summer? Vaguely, I imagine. Your recollection likely goes something like this:

“It wasn’t very hot, it was nice to get outside, and I went to the beach a few times.” 

Right, which isn’t very specific. You’ve moved on and forgotten. College, like last summer, will be faintly memorable like the fading tan that’s in desperate need of more sunlight.

As I’m finishing the final month and a half of classes, I often think about getting back into the real world. It’s true that college has been a strange bubble existence with its own set of rules and expectations apart from the real world. However, the value of college has been a place to harness skills, think about the world in unconventional ways, and to truly expand the mind. The tragedy of graduation, I think, is that the faucet of knowledge is suddenly turned off and it’s all the harder to keep exposed anything challenging preconceived notions about the world.

Workplaces, families, friendships, and social media all make it incredibly easy to fall into a community of practice that insulates itself. There’s no more need to pick up a textbook, read studies, or cram for a test the following morning. There is no longer a forced path to unwittingly follow to betterment. In college there was (with its due criticisms, of course), but now there’s no incentive to keep going. Post-graduation means to adapt to a new world, one of employment and promotion, of hierarchy and financial makeup, of integrating into social systems that lead to that next stage of adult life.

Seasons change, I suppose.

I’ve yet to hear who the commencement speaker will be at Grand Valley State University, but one thing is for sure: This person will be older, experienced, and will likely give wisdom to those too young to understand the full impact of what’s being said. That’s natural—I’m just now learning things that I wished made sense a decade ago, and I’m confident that I’ll feel the same way about things I wish I had known at 35 in another ten years. Whatever this speaker will say to 2024 graduates, I can echo my own sentiment:

“Appreciate the seasons.”

They come and go. The leaves wilt, the snow accrues, and the muddy puddles of spring will evaporate into the paradise of summertime. It all changes so fast, but the lesson wasn’t in recognizing that seasons come and go—it was in spending the time to notice them in the first place. 

So, when someone asks about last summer or what it was like to be in college, time travel back to when that place felt real again. Summer meant sunshine, and college meant glimpsing a world that appears a wondrous, complex organism–one that was never simple to define.

It’s much like the weather this past week: Summer and winter existed within 24-hours of each other in Western Michigan. I don’t truly understand anything.

I appreciate the seasons that remind me of this.

***

A NOTE ON AI GRAPHICS

Some of you may have noticed a distinct stylistic change in Weekly Post-Ed graphics form the past two weeks. There’s an obvious reason for that—they were designed using AI. And while I am naturally opposed to making graphics using AI, the past few weeks of trying out the technology has been fascinating. Viewing an image generate after transcribing a few sentences into ChatGPT might be the closest I’ve come to witnessing magic on the internet (not counting a few TikTok trends). An image is produced in under ten seconds with a level of detail that might take me hours to illustrate.

There are downsides, however. The design choices this current AI makes in graphics generation are very limited in my opinion (in terms of a flat, cartoony style), which makes it easy to identify images made with AI. There’s also a lack of authorship with the images, something that isn’t easy to explain, but something about the images feels lacking. If that makes any sense. Call it artistic integrity, but I can see the difference in something made by humans and not. There seems to be a lack of personal choice with AI generation.

All of this is to say these graphics are a short term experiment. I do not intend to rely on AI for graphics going further. The graphic designer in me will not tolerate the loss of originality with my own creative works.

So, that about explains it. Count on more personalized graphics going further, but every once in a while, if the graphic is interesting enough, I may use elements of AI as inspiration (which, frankly is where the technology thrives).

***

  1. “Hush” by The Marías
  2. “idwtgtbt” by the booyah! kids
  3. “I Gotta I Gotta” by flowerovlove

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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Weekly Post-Ed #63

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

SOME PRACTICAL ADVICE

Breakups are terrible. No matter how many times I go through one, they are just as painful and mysterious even after a catalogue of past experiences to compare them with. Over the past two months, I’ve been going through the process of moving on from a serious romantic relationship. And while I’ve assumed my usual role of private detective revisiting the scene of the crime in order to solve just what murdered love this time around, I also understand the relationship is dead and that there was no saving it. Since the breakup, I’ve read everything I could get my hands on that offers advice—some things have worked, others haven’t.

What’s fascinating about breakups is that we often find our own methods for soothing and moving on. I’ve found things that have worked that I’ve never found anywhere else. So, in case anyone finds this useful, I’d like to share the THREE THINGS that helped me move on from this past relationship.

***

YOU CAN ADMIT ALL OF THIS IS A LITTLE FUNNY

I remember distinctly the last time I saw my ex-girlfriend. I was driving to her house and had an existential moment of humor: Everything was so ridiculously wrong in that moment that it made me laugh. Everything felt wrong—from the strange distance growing between us, the unreasonable expectations and judgments (that I levied as well, I suppose), nothing felt organic. It was to be our last time seeing one another and I wondered why we were going through with it, honestly.

I’ve heard that there is a moment of understanding right before one dies, as though there’s a recognition that death is imminent and all becomes soberingly clear. I believe the same moment exists in romantic relationships bound to fail. And my advice for if you ever find yourself in that nebulous space is to laugh at it.

It’s ok to admit that what’s happening is funny.

Perhaps recognizing the absurdity of my dying relationship was why I handled the following evening so well.

I was broken up over a text message…after 8 months of being with someone.

I’m already laughing as I reflect writing this. In the world of relationships, you don’t get to break up with a text message after 8 months. To be clear, those 8 months included: exchanging “I love yous”, meeting family, spending nights and weekends together, and even mowing each other’s lawns (well, I mowed hers—which is a whole other story). Given that backstory, it doesn’t follow that a relationship like that should end with a SINGLE text message informing that things are over.

She sent it late at night: 

“Robert, I’ve been sorting through my feelings about our relationship the past few months and now I know that I don’t want this. Sorry it took me so long to process.” 

Ok: abrupt, a little remorseless, but not unfathomable—it’s not like we were a great couple. But still, breaking up over a text message?

It gets better. She added:

“Don’t call me, I won’t pick up. I’ll call you tomorrow or Monday if you want to talk about it.”

That’s when I laughed. 

Really hard.

Because until that moment, I didn’t know you could do that: Schedule a breakup in advance.

To her credit, it took the sting of the breakup away initially. The notion that you can break up with someone and then schedule to talk about it later is hilarious to me. It defies the act entirely: 

You’re breaking up RIGHT NOW.

It’s not worth bringing up the cowardice of ending things over a text message (which is also indicative of so much else that was wrong with the relationship), nor all the negative attributes of that moment that aren’t worth elaborating on either. What I will say, in hindsight, I am grateful that things ended so absurdly. There were tears when it happened, but mostly from laughter. It’s hard to completely fault someone else for at least ending things on a joke—even though it was at her expense.

Real tears were to follow, of course—I did love her—but this part was funny and worth laughing about. It was a good start to a long breakup process, really, which helped in the long run.

***

IT’S OK TO COMPARE PAST BREAKUPS

Another surprising strategy that has helped is comparing past breakups. The added benefit of having gone through many breakups is recognizing that some were better than others. In many cases, I started to think fondly of past relationships that ended in a way that was – for a lack of a better term – classy.

No one likes a breakup because it means something wasn’t working, but there is a sense of integrity in finding a fitting ending. I’ve found that those who breakup with a polite and professional message are the ones doing it right. For example, I once hated receiving the rejected job application breakup:

“Hey, sorry to do this, but I don’t think we’re clicking. While I think you’re a terrific candidate and will make some other employer extremely happy in the future, it just wasn’t the right fit for me or my company. I’ve decided to go in another direction at this time. Thanks for applying and I wish you the best going forward.”

It still hurts, and is inhumanly sterile in warmth or tone, but it is a nice sentiment compared to other ways people choose to breakup.

*cough* Like a text message that attempts to schedule an explanation a day or two later. *cough*

I have never appreciated ex-girlfriends like I have from this previous breakup. While those breakups felt cruel and unreasonable at the time, I now see that they also showed a maturity in recognizing the relationship wasn’t going to work and how best to approach its end. Perhaps it is the writer in me, but I always appreciate those who put effort into the endings of things. It isn’t necessary to have total understanding or closure from a relationship (because no explanation erases the reality that the relationship failed; and most often, seeking closure morphs into something unhealthy such as keeping the door open a crack just in case both want to try – and fail – again).

In many ways, I feel better about my other breakups. They seem nicer now, somehow.

***

WHEN IN DOUBT, IMAGINE WHAT YOUR HEROES WOULD SAY

One of the most useful techniques I’ve discovered is to imagine you are telling the story of your relationship to one of your heroes. If I were to honestly tell the story of what happened, how would they respond? Here are what a few of my heroes would have to say:

Colin Jost: “Her brother wore a gun on holster on his chest when meeting you? In his own home? Did he offer to chest bump you to make the gun go off? What a great way of getting away with murder for someone with a severe insecurity complex. “Chest bump with the safety off, bro!” C’mon, even in westerns the cowboys take off their guns in their own homes!”

Craig Mazin: “No. Just, no. You should have left when she said that her “true self” was someone selfish, blunt, crass, and mean. Here’s some advice: when someone says, ‘Oh, here’s who I really am’ and gets VERY specific about the terrible qualities they possess, you BELIEVE THEM. Get away. Get far, far away.”

Neil Gaiman: “You know, when I was writing Coraline, I had an idea to make the little doorway to the other world have a guillotine blade that would shutter down if one wasn’t looking carefully enough, cutting off a finger or an arm. But I found it didn’t work because – and I think this is much like what you were telling me about your ex-girlfriend who believes in conspiracy theories – it was a bit TOO much of the wrong thing.”

Lori Gotlieb: “She wanted to stop saying ‘I love you’ months after you both had declared love for one another, and this was because she didn’t want to say it in case the relationship wouldn’t last? I’m not sure you can preorder a breakup in a relationship, but I think that’s what she was doing there. And you must ask yourself: Does that quality make for a good partner? I think you already know the answer to that.”

***

CAST FOR SANITY

At this point in my life, I don’t know what makes for a healthy relationship because – honestly – I’ve never had one. However, I can imagine what it feels like to enjoy a healthy romantic relationship. I won’t constantly wonder if someone wants to build something with me or not. I don’t think there will be family members or a roommate constantly gossiping about what a wrong fit I am, even though they never asked much about me. Nor will there be constant judgment and seeking out all my faults because I wasn’t, suddenly, impressive anymore (8 months into a relationship, ain’t NO ONE impressive any longer).

In short: it just shouldn’t be so goddam hard.

The director Judd Apatow has said that when he casts actors for his movies, he first and foremost casts for sanity. 

Ultimately, I think this is the best advice for choosing a romantic partner. And it is casting: you are being selective about who earns the role of being in your life (just remember that you are also auditioning for theirs).

So, just remember: When the next audition shows up and says they found Jesus Christ at 4-years-old, has a sibling that is convinced you are a communist because IT WAS A THOUGHT THAT CAME INTO HIS BRAIN FOR NO REASON, and claims that a clinically obsessive roommate’s 20-30 texts in a row are because she’s “just looking out for me.”

You can pass.

Even better: You should laugh, think fondly about past auditions that weren’t so bad in hindsight (but that you wouldn’t cast, either), and that everyone around you – whom is reasonable and wise –  suggests you see other auditions.

Because there’s still a line of people waiting to read for the part outside.

And don’t worry: It’s a great movie. We all believe in it. And the right cast will make it even better.

Until then, you can tell the person in front of you with a smile and polite dismissal, “Thanks, I think we got it. We’ll let you know.” 

***

I have one song only to recommend this week and it is the new Justin Timberlake track “Sanctify” that debuted on Saturday Night Live this past weekend. I’ve had it on repeat the past few days and, for the first time, can confidently admit that I’m looking forward to JT’s new album dropping in March. Here’s the performance from SNL, it’s worth a watch:

https://youtu.be/zLC8XiBxV1k?si=cll-mC_-yBNYWN0Q

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #62

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

“I’M A DICK BEFORE I AM.”

I’m currently in my last semester to attain my Bachelor’s Degree in English Literature. After two years of attending classes, I’ve realized there is a tipping point for when one has been at college TOO long.

It came when reading a textbook, of all things. As I was reading opening chapter, I suddenly thought, “You know, this is a REALLY GOOD textbook.”

[planet earth exploding]

A textbook? I was inspired by a textbook. That’s like being inspired by the text of Apple’s Terms and Conditions agreements. “Hey, these are really well written, you know that?”

But maybe I’m not being fair. If you read the textbook, you might also agree that it’s pretty damned good. Here’s what happened next:

The textbook in question is from a linguistics class called Language and Gender: Second Edition by Penelope Eckert and Sally McConnell-Ginet. Essentially, the class is a sociolinguistics course—which is academic babble for how language shapes society. This class, in particular, explores how language has impacted ideas about gender from a historical and cultural perspective. 

The first chapter started with a bang with this argument: Gender is a social invention.

It was incredibly convincing. In thirty pages, the authors of the textbook broke down what it is like to be raised to taught, observe, and otherwise value deeply entrenched gender standards that reach back as far as civilization is concerned. I’ll save the research section for those interested in pursuing the subject, but one piece of evidence has stuck with me:

Infants as old as two-days-old change the pitch of their cries based around if a caregiver is male or female. It’s a slight change in pitch, something measurable only with a fine instrument, but the change is readily observed.

By the end of the opening chapter, I felt like I was yanked out of The Matrix and awoke in a tub of pink goo. I subsequently wondered why it had to be pink and not blue goo, the sort that boys would prefer in a dystopian human-battery plant, but that’s beside the point. 

I spent the following three days casing over how environment has influenced my identity, ideas, likes/dislikes, relationships, career decisions, music tastes – in short, everything. 

By the end of the week, I wasn’t sure of who I was anymore. Was I just a pair of eyes and loosely working system of neurons that has absorbed advertising and consumerist ideals on a scale on an unconscious level? Am I just a mimic for all that has been told or taught to me?

I had turned into a Gender-focused Renée Descartes, pondering if my existence was a figment of some demon’s oddly white male and patriarchal imagination.

Descartes, for those foggy on the famous philosopher, would soon conclude of his existence: “I think, therefore I am.”

But I couldn’t keep the record from skipping when it came to environmental influences. I kept asking myself, “If I ask a girl out and have no idea how she’s been subjugated for a lifetime of unequal treatment, does that make me a dick before even saying hello?”

My conclusion was similarly Cartesian, but slightly different: 

“I’m a dick before I am.”

By the weekend, I was exhausted. Trying to piece together your life by considering EVERYTHING EVER is a little like dumping the entirety of your household belongings in a big pile in the living room and asking, “Ok, but what does it all mean?!” It’s a stupid thing to do all at once.

Admitting defeat, the only thing I could do was pick up the textbook and continue reading. 

That’s when I found a rather surprisingly passage from the authors. Instead of accepting the dystopian future we’re all headed for, they wrote something unexpectedly uplifting about the nature of social systems—for those in apparent control and everyone else. This is what they wrote:

“While social structure and available resources provide constraints, it is people who decide just how constrained they will allow themselves to be (and others who try to enforce or help loosen those constraints)…We do not forget that on a day-to-day level, style is not usually a serious business – rather, it is the spice of life.”

Eckert, P., & McConnell-Ginet, S. (2013). Language and gender (Second Edition). Cambridge University Press. 48.

The pile that was my life that I had dumped on the floor was suddenly cleaned up. 

It was like hearing the famous conclusion of Renée Descartes, “I think, therefore I am”, but with a lemony twist on top, “Plus,” the great philosopher might have added, “it’s more fun that way.”

It’s a much more liveable way of existing, don’t you think? I’ll rephrase: 

“I style, therefore I am.”

 ***

AGDQ 2024 FINALE, HURRAY!!

This past week was the bi-annual speedrunning charity marathon event Awesome Games Done Quick. For those in the know, it’s a charity marathon streaming 24/7 on Twitch.tv for seven days that features a slate of video games being beaten as quickly as possible. The event draws tens-of-thousands of viewers and raises obscene amounts of money from a community of dedicated gamers and fans of games for a great cause: The Prevent Cancer Foundation.

I’ve watched the marathon every year and it continues to impress with speedruns that showcase the toughest tricks without a hitch. And while that is masterful to watch, there is something deeply inspiring when watching something go wrong and how one responds to it.

There was no better example than the finale of AGDQ 2024 when the final run hit a “snag” that had to be figured out in front of a live audience. The runner, Zic3, needed to level up a character in Final Fantasy V: Pixel Remaster, but the only fight was something his roster of fighters were greatly under-leveled for. The result was watching twenty minutes of frantic trial and error as the runner and his Couch Commenters (FOXYJIRA and W0ADYB) conferred back and forth for how to beat this section of the game.

It was the most inspiring example of grace under pressure I have seen in a long time. While the host, PROLIX, kept the audience riveted by reading donations, Zic3 eventually found a way to progress back to the route and complete the run. There were no tears, no gripes of rage or blame, not even a helpless moment of hesitation. The three runners on stage huddled together to solve the problem and eventually found a way through.

There’s something vulnerable and revealing when things go wrong. For me, it showed just how incredible these runners were to focus with all the pressure and continue to work the problem, each contributing solutions.

I’ll link the moment in the video below. It’s worth a watch.

And congrats to another AGDQ for raising 2.5 million for the Prevent Cancer Foundation.

***

  1. “This Time Around” by Beauty Queen
  2. “Skyline” by Hembree
  3. “Fumari” by Peach Tree Rascals

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #61

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

SELF-HELP RESOLUTIONS

I have two resolutions that I’m excited to share:

The first is canceling my first resolution. Did you know you could do this? I had an elaborate and specific resolution that I scheduled for the start of the New Year and IMMEDIATELY blew it. It was a bit more involved than working out three times a week or writing in a gratitude journal before bedtime. 

What I wanted to do was go 365 days without reading any self-help books.

My life, I’ve realized, has become a sponge for any advice I can find. Call it the benefit of living in the Age of Everything (the internet, comparison, research, social media, whatever). For as long as I can remember I’ve sought out anything and everything that could shed light on what I was going through. Originally, self-help was designed as a tool – helping oneself, go figure – but has now turned into the goal. If anything went wrong in life, I’d look up the remedy, which was a temporary emotional band-aid, but never indented the larger scope of the problem. Eventually, taking the drug of self-help was all that mattered.

In other words: I had forgone living and was, instead, reading about how one ought to live.

And so I was determined to live a life independent about reading about an ideal one.

Triumphant as that resolution was, I immediately caved no less than fifteen hours into the New Year when I was feeling low and needed a pick-me-up.

As I flipped through the pages of a book from my shelf, I thought, “Is there a self-help book for being addicted to self-help books?”

Wherein I extracted a valuable lesson: When the remedy becomes a contradiction, get rid of the remedy.

So, I’ve eliminated that resolution. Instead, I’m sticking to my goal of living life while not actively seeking how others live for reference. For a few months, maybe.

I’m much more excited about the second resolution:

To post another Weekly Post-Ed.

It’s specific, achievable, and something I’ve been wanting to do for so long. Without further babbling, here’s a new one (finally!). 

See? Goals are achievable—so long as they are bite-sized and easily consumable as actual bite-sized things. I assume I could eat this Weekly Post-Ed if I printed it out…

Am I getting off track? Gotcha, we’ll move on.

***

BALLS DROPPING

This New Year’s marked the first ever ball dropping in my hometown. Around 6000 attended, which was more than any local officials imagined since only two police officers were posted for duty for the entirety of the crowd. Cramming along a single avenue that acts as both the single exciting street in a smalltown (complete with restaurants, a performing arts theater, hockey arena, and a peppering of breweries offering a local culinary favorite: pizza), thousands hereded around a single crane that lifted a luminescent ball wrapped in Christmas lights high above the crowd. The adjoining buildings, no taller than three stories, acted as balcony party sights for those who could afford the new-age apartments that rival apartment prices in NYC (not to be outdone, the landlords are just as negligent when attending to faulty AC units and weird leaks from a guy playing AC/DC most of the night).

Driving to the downtown area would act as a perfect preview for the preferred scent of the evening. Every corner has sprouted a cannabis dispensary and patrons of the downtown area were well stocked. As one attendee of the event said, “I tried to smell anything else, even my armpits, but couldn’t.”

If the smell of cheap and expensive reactional marijuana (a mix that made for a “meh” combination despite the price point) wasn’t pervading the atmosphere of the ball drop, the mood surely shifted. Lines for alcohol ranged from an hour to the following fortnight, and the New Year’s reminiscing gave way to hallunicating optimism.

“Once the ball drops,” said one man, “we’re going to beat the shit out of it and get all the weed!”

During the course of several hits of weed,  a New Year’s ball drop evolved from a celebratory event to reel in the new year to a birthday pinata bash. The two officers on duty were quick to ascertain the plot and apprehend the three or four brooms from those closest to the ball drop location.

As midnight came and went, drinks spilled and kisses given to loved ones and complete strangers, it was a night of jubilee in a small town. One city official was ecstatic about the event, stating the town “was back!”

Others, meanwhile, offered up constructive criticism. One hair salonist said, “Why was the ball so small? I mean, it was like my son’s little kickball size. Couldn’t they find something bigger? I like bigger balls.”

Well, don’t we all?

No official word has been given about budget constraints in terms of the small ball size, but many of the cannibus community had a fix that is catching a lot of attention.

“Just buy a second one and add it to the first one!”

One artist went so far as to draw a mockup for this proposal. Another offered a slogan to go along with it. With enough support, next year’s ball(s) drop will be another huge community hit.

[Balls on crane with slogan: 2025: Get Ready for Our Balls to Drop!]

***

2023 PLAYLISTS

I’ve posted four new playlists! They were my quarterly playlists from 2023 that have (finally) been posted. If the New Year was in desperate need of anything, it was an infusion of new jams to start fresh with. Why not click on one of the banners below and sample some of the best tracks from last year.

Pairs nicely with new gym memberships, I hear.

***

A SMASHING NEW YEAR

Lastly, the site has a new look.

It’s hard to believe that on April 26 of this year, Super Smash Bros. will celebrate its 25TH anniversary. It’s even harder to believe I’ve played the same video game franchise over a 25-year period. When I think of what else I’ve done over such a long period of my life, nothing healthy comes to mind. Coffee drinker? Sure, since I was 14. Light sugar addiction? Even longer: maybe when I was just a baby. Other than having a sibling and parents for the entirety of my life, very little makes the cut of “Celebrating Our 25TH Anniversary!”

I would mention my previous marriage at the age of 4 to now super model Kate Ferrera, but unfortunately we divorced just before our 25TH anniversary. Unlike Super Smash Bros., Kate changed— she wasn’t a super model when we married, but everything changed when she moved away from diapers. It was a long descent into hell after that. Think of the movie “Walk the Line” starring Joaquin Phoenix, except picture the film starring a pair of toddlers with swaths of diapers and ants-on-a-log snacks in the place of drugs, and tantrums (not so different from the movie).

With the 25TH anniversary fast approaching, there was no better time to redesign the website in the style of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. It is the magnum opus of the series that includes every fighter from the entire series (the likes of Cloud Strife, Sonic the Hedgehog, Solid Snake, Ryu and Ken, Sora, Banjo-Kazooie, and on and on and on). This dizzying array of characters epitomized the clashing video game universe we all wished was real growing up. If anything, Super Smash Bros. became a banner title that showed that dreams really can come true.

Anyway, I gush…

It’s a fitting look for the New Year, I think. 

***

I sincerely wish that all of you had had a safe start to the New Year. Maybe things will be easier (or maybe they won’t), but just know you’re not alone. I’ll be here, making playlists and tinkering with what to write next. Feel free to write in.

Wishing you as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Playlists |

Q4 – 2023 Playlist

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

The finale playlist of 2023 let the dam loose in terms of new and vibrant music. Maybe there was a sudden influx of new releases, or that Spotify’s Discover Weekly playlist was sandbagging most of the year, but through the floodgates surged new artists and hit songs that kept coming in strong. Quarter Four 2023 is an eclectic collective of moody and transient tunes best played in the background of every facet of life.

Let’s start with “BURY YOU” by Ari Abdul, a go-to track to just feel damned cool about a possessive relationship (and how about that album art? It’s like a GQ featuring a glam-up of the dead girl from “The Ring” and totally awesome). “Winona” by Miloe, Jamila Woods, & Vagabon is surprisingly layered and reflective piece infused with a catchy trio of voices that sets this song afloat to another plane. “buzz cut” by lovelytheband and MisterWives is a collab that comes with the guitar rhythm of a hit Pheonix track, and who doesn’t love that?

Rounding out the playlist are some emotionally apropos tracks like “Worrying” by Clean Cut Kid, a sobering and campfire sing-song track about the waste of worry and anxiety. Chappell Roan sings another sex anthem in “Red Wine Supernova”, followed by another anthemic declaration of human nature “Human Being” by Arkells & Lights.

This has been my most played playlist for just about any endeavor. So click the Spotify banner below, skip through the tracks that resonate, try the others, and see if there’s something that winds up on a playlist of your making. As always, comment below to mention new faves, suggestions of your own, and anything else you felt while browsing the tracks below.

2023 music over and out!

  1. “Sylvania (Nanana)” by Bay Ledges
  2. “Close to Me” by Hembree
  3. “Slide Tackle” by Japanese Breakfast
  4. “BURY YOU” by Ari Abdul
  5. “Winona” by Miloe, Jamila Woods, Vagabon
  6. “Coming Attractions” by Nodaway
  7. “buzz cut” by lovelytheband, MisterWives
  8. “Out of Vogue” by Fever Dolls
  9. “MANGO” by Grace Mitchell
  10. “Yellow Brick Road” by Dylan Cartlidge
  11. “Moonshine” by Hippo Campus
  12. “Siddhartha” by Dead Emerson
  13. “Worrying” by Clean Cut Kid
  14. “Red Wine Supernova” by Chappell Roan
  15. “Human Being” by Arkells, Light
  16. “Patio” by George Moir
  17. “Sunday” by Sea Lemon
  18. “Technicolor” by Teddi Gold
Robert Hyma’s Q4 2023 Playlist

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| Playlists |

Q3 – 2023 Playlist

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

Then, there was Quarter Three of 2023. You’ll notice that there isn’t the usual number of tracks in this playlist. That’s largely because it was a time of summer fun and, honestly, not finding much that piqued my musical interests. Often, finding new music is a lottery draw and either music hits or doesn’t. I went back to HONEYMOAN as filler since I was in love with this band for most of 2023 (still am, but shhh…). The New Pornographers released a new album and I found it difficult to keep on repeat other than a few selections. “Continue as a Guest” has a faraway view of existential crisis, reverberating like a metronome with its melodic electric guitar rhythm. It was the epitome of this playlist, I have found.

Some surprises wandered onto my repeat list, including Lizzy Farrall’s “Barbados”, a surprising bop that sounds like something out of the early 2010s. A country song recommendation by Ethan Tasch made its way into the mix, which sounded anything but the genre tagged, and became a great city-drive background track. “Grade A” by spill tab & JAWNY is an absolute jam and worthy of any pick-me-up playlist out there, while “Bloom” by Matilda Mann is an acoustic-guitar ambient song that’s both contemplative and contemporary in an addictive way.

It’s a shortened offering this time around, but no less enticing. Click on the Spotify logo below for a listen!

  1. “Continue as a Guest” by The New Pornographers
  2. “Barbados” by Lizzy Farrall
  3. “Gym Song” by HONEYMOAN
  4. “Grade A” by spill tab, JAWNY
  5. “Bloom” by Matilda Mann
  6. Lie Like You Want Me Back” by Yumi Zouma
  7. “Lavender” by Ashleigh Ball
  8. “Holdup” by Ethan Tasch
  9. “We’re All Gonna Die” by Joy Oladokun, Noah Kahan
  10. “Show You Off” by HONEYMOAN
Robert Hyma’s Q3 – 2023 Playlist
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| Playlists |

Q2 – 2023 Playlist

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

Quarter Two 2023 was lighter, fuller, and just better overall. I had found a serious girlfriend, my first year back in college was coming to a close and I was deeply enjoying my classes. The music was hitting, too. Eight months later, things have changed drastically (the girlfriend isn’t a thing any longer; the classes are still enjoyable), but the music from this particular Playlist I come to more often than all the others.

“Dirt Boy” by Peach Face & Not Charles is the perfect thumping start. Hidden gems like “Little Boxes” by Walk off the Earth and “Thunder in the City” by Future Generations became songs to stop upon when skipping through the sludge of older, macabre playlists. Add to the ear-pleasures the likes of IAMDYNAMITE and Mikaela Davis‘s harp ballad “Other Lover” and the balance of this Q2 playlist hits the highs and lows of a varied 2023.

Not to mention that HONEYMOAN became a playlist all its own in my personal collection; that band is a cacophony of sound and emotionality that strikes to the core of my musical longings. Be sure to check out “Sorry Like You Mean It” from their new album of the same name.

Like much of 2023, Q2 was a huge hill to climb. The results were a much more mundane trickle into Q3, which you can sample here. Funny how a playlist tells so much about the time it was created in our lives, you know?

Click on the big SPOTIFY logo below for the Q2 -2023 Playlist!

  1. “Dirty Boy” by Peach Face, Not Charles
  2. “Everything Goes (Wow)” by BROODS
  3. “Orpheus” by The Beaches
  4. “Still Here” by HONEYMOAN
  5. “Little Boxes” by Walk off the Earth
  6. “Pink Chateau” by In The Valley Below
  7. “Solar Power – Spotify Singles” by Glass Animals
  8. Tell Me What You Want” by Caroline Rose
  9. “Sorry Like You Mean It” by HONEYMOAN
  10. “DAYLIGHT DOOM” by MOTO BANDIT
  11. “Paresthesia” by Wild Ones
  12. “Losing My Mind” by Montaigne
  13. “Thunder In The City” by Future Generations
  14. “Colors” by Anaïs Cardot
  15. “Bloom” by IAMDYNAMITE
  16. “Other Lover” by Mikaela Davis
  17. Sleepwalkin’ – Daydreamin’ Version” by Better Oblivion Community Center, Phoebe Bridgers, Conor Oberst
  18. “Sit Right” by HONEYMOAN
  19. “Not A Go” by foamboy
Robert Hyma’s Q2 – 2023 Playlist
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