All in David Himmel

Buying Whores for Chuck Berry and a Threat from Jerry Lee Lewis

“You work for the radio station?” he asked again.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Lewis. I’m Dr. Dave Maxwell. What can I help you with?” Little Richard walked past us, and he,  too, looked frail and worn down. The Killer glared at him as he passed. The Innovator didn’t seem to notice. Jerry Lee turned his gaze back at me, his eyes smaller now, his face taut with rage.

“Can you do me a favor, boy?”

“Of course.” 

“Don’t let that niggah touch my pianah.” He and his two men went on their way.

Is Marketing the Root of All Evil?

Gillette doesn’t feel like a sales pitch. It feels genuine. It is a marketing success. But also, “Buy our razors because Dollar Shave Club and Harry’s ain’t woke like we are.” There’s just no escaping it, for-profit companies need our money, and they’ll do anything to get it. In this case, Gillette did it right.

Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 6, 2019

You don’t need balloons or cupcakes to be excited about learning your baby’s sex. And yes, it’s a sex. It’s never gender. Gender is a social construct, and for even the most pro-life pro-lifers out there, an unborn child/fetus/uterine turd cannot, by the laws of science, be socialized. Talk to it, play music for it, fine. You can’t make it like pink or blue in the womb. If you need to be surprised about your baby’s sex, listen to what your OB or midwife tells you during pregnancy, or at the time of birth. Getting all geared up over the sex of a child is exactly why we have sexism. So, please, for the sake of our future, knock it the fuck off.

2018: In Like a Savage Lion, Out Like a Rabid Lamb

Christmas Day 2018, Hammond, Illinois — My wife is a sleep. My son is asleep. My in-laws, I assume, are asleep. Santa, I hope with all my heart, is ripped on the good scotch and burning off the last of his Christmas Spirit on a horned and lubed up Mrs. Claus. And me, I’m awake with thoughts of family and the geriatric year 2018. It was a year many people have complained about. And for many, it wasn’t easy. Immigrants, would-be immigrants; refugees, would-be refugees… They had a rough go. Families of Parkland, Florida. The storms, the fires… There were some large scale FUBAR situations for sure. And these are situations we all need to reconcile with someday soon — a must before we meet our maker. But on the smaller scale of individuality, things were different. In hindsight — which is all we have left at this point, really — 2018 wasn’t so bad.

Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 23, 2018

The big gifts from my wife this Christmas was a Simple Human trashcan for the kitchen, and the Verilux HappyLight Lucent. See, boys and girls, it’s easy to buy presents for a neat freak with a chronic case of the mulligrubs.

I’m still in the infant stage of its use but so far, this HappyLight thing seems to be doing the trick. I do feel better. Plus, I think it’s making my penis bigger.

George H.W. Bush and a Young Boy’s Foray into Politics

I was confused. Had I done something wrong? What the hell was a democrat and why didn’t they like republicans? And what was a republican, anyway? I looked at one of the pamphlets. Maybe I’d discover something awful about this George Bush guy. But nothing terrible was there: flew a plane in World War II, was our Vice President, did something with something called the CIA, was a congressman — whatever that was. I was nervous to deliver any more pamphlets. For the rest of my route, if it looked like someone was home, I avoided the house completely.