Category: Esquire


The Burden of Food

This story is crazy. A guy had Crohn’s Disease, an intestinal disorder, so severe that he needed surgery and afterwards, he couldn’t eat.

The Man Who Couldn’t Eat

For the first meals after I was home from the hospital, I tried joining them at the table, a happy-meal family, but my starving presence disturbed the kids, and I’ve been marooned on the love seat or exiled to the bedroom ever since. The silver-dollar-sized burgers and petite seeded buns excite the boys, and they yammer with mouths full of food, their speech garbled by chewed meat and bread soaked in warm juices. One after another the patties fall, cutting down the pyramid of sliders, and I can only watch and listen as the plate gets swept clean. Our six-year-old kneels and turns on his chair. He has taken a momentary break from the carnage, his mouth a juicy mess, and he trains me with a severe look. “When will you eat?” he demands in a voice complicated by vulnerability, the worry that afflicts all children whose parents get sick. “Soon,” I lie. “Tell me about the burgers.” [Esquire]

Unreasonable doubt

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As you get older, you’re not afraid of doubt. Doubt isn’t running the show. You take out all the self-agonizing. [Clint Eastwood, What I've Learned, Esquire]

Come As You Are


Eminem, one of my favorite rappers yes, is featured in one of Esquire‘s “What I’ve Learned” columns in its January issue. He says this:

“If you don’t overlook the fact of what you look like, then no one else will. I had a complex back then: if I get booed off stage, it’s probably because I’m white. There comes a time when you gotta stop thinking like that and just be you.”

I’ve said before that I don’t think anyone ever truly reveals all of themselves. Quiet ones secretly have a wild side, and those who are loud and boisterous have a very vulnerable side. Very few people get to view the full scope of another person, including close friends. It’s too scary. You don’t know what they do when they’re home alone or what they mutedly pine for. At some point in your life, though, being yourself becomes the most important thing in the world to you. Things you hated about you are now embraced and things you loved, proudly displayed. There’s less of a guise, less of a pretense, just you. This is what I’m after right now. Come as you are. And come from the heart.

Had to…

(read this)

In the November issue of Esquire (Halle Berry cover) is an article by A.J. Jacobs titled “Rationality Project.” It’s all about rational thinking and the writer’s quest to live and think more rationally. In short, your brain is easily fooled, or rather goaded into a systematic way of thinking that makes it easier to process thoughts/ideas/behaviors that are not necessarily rational i.e. make sense. This is the same writer who wrote the book A Year of Living Biblically where he tried to follow all the rules of the Bible to the letter. It’s great.

In this article A.J. writes about the time his wife was reading a New York Times article about the recent salmonella tomato scare (I was like, whatever. I ate tomatoes) The article stated that 800 people had gotten sick from salmonella, “possibly from tainted tomatoes.” Possibly. He took the paper from his wife and scribbled: “Meanwhile millions of people ate tomatoes and did NOT get sick. But thousands did die from obesity.” Yet which are people more scared of?

Another experiment was based on eating rationally. When do we know when enough is enough? The assumption, a true one, is that people eat what’s in front of them without thinking much about whether they’re full or not. We’ve confused portions so badly that we don’t even know what’s an acceptable amount of intake for our body’s nutrition. In an attempt to trick his brain and find out what exactly a reasonable amount of food is, A.J. placed a napkin over his cereal bowl in the morning and tried to eat until his stomach deemed itself full. I saw a Discovery Channel special that tried something similar. In one test, they gave children two different sets of food, one with a bigger portion and one with a normal portion. The children ate both plates without fail. Moral: it’s better to give your children a healthy portion instead of more—they won’t know the difference. They eat what’s in front of them. A.J. writes:

“People often choose the medium size at a restaurant even if the small would suffice—we have a fear of the extremes, so we go with the middle option. We find it logical to eat cows but not other animals like dogs or mice. Studies have found we find things tastier if we pay more for them. Or if we eat them out of fancier containers. Later in the day I eat microwaved chili out of our wedding plates. It’s delicious.”


If Fruit Loops and its generic stepcousin Fruit Circles (yes, it exists) taste fundamentally the same but the latter is cheaper, then why do we buy Fruit Loops?

“Probably 90 percent of our life decisions are powered by the twin engines of inertia and laziness. Psychologists call it the Mere Exposure Effect. The basic idea is, I like Crest because I’m accustomed to Crest.”

Another thing the author tries to fix is some of his irrational superstitions. One is his need to swallow (pause) twice.

“Superstitions, I learn, stem from the Confirmation Bias. The faulty reasoning goes like this: I’ve swallowed in pairs for fifteen years, and I’m alive and relatively okay. If I stop swallowing in pairs, who knows what will happen? So I’ll keep on swallowing in pairs. Highly irrational.”

Iit’s difficult to change any of these things–they’re instinctive–but we can be aware of how our brains operate and maybe tweak a thing or two. I won’t retype the whole article but it’s interesting. Hit up B&N.

A Complex (Iron) Man

(Photograph: Sam Jones)

Rolling Stone’s new Robert Downey Jr. cover story is prit-ty good. But I usually hate when feature stories lede off with a restaurant scene. sometimes it’s not the writer’s fault. publicists just need to be more creative. grant us something more. Like many, I’ve only recently become infatuated with Robert Downey Jr., not just as an actor but as a person. Well, the person he gives us, anyway. I love his words (Enmeshment. Codependent neuroses. Grift) and the complexity of his sentences. Peep…

“I’m between two phases right now, pre-Iron Man and post-Iron Man, and the transition can be tricky,” he says, shifting and smoking. “It used to be, I’d drive onto a studio lot, and the guard was like, ‘Less Than Zero dude, I loved Chaplin!’ Now it’s, ‘Iron Man!’ It’s not an algorithm anymore. It’s a fixed number. Things have been zeroed out; it’s the beginning of something. But right now, it’s still a void, and we tend to think of the void as an abyss or a vacuum with nothing there. In fact, it’s a new road, and what you should do on this new road is close for repairs — close right away, because that old vehicle is not going to work on that new road. I mean, if the cosmos is a loving, healing thing that also spins real fast and erupts and does violent stuff, and if there really is some kind of order to the whole thing, then everything that’s led up to this moment has to be part of it, or the math doesn’t work. But in this transition phase, I really am trying to live as much like a lizard as I can. Hot, rock, sun, fly, tongue.”

But this Robert Downey Jr. feature from the March 2007 issue of Esquire… one of my favorite celebrity profiles I’ve ever read. The first time I read this piece I was so absolutely confused and lost in his words (“I’m gonna smoke a Camel non-filter in my sustainable T-shirt.”) It’s impossible to read quickly. And so it forced me to slow down. Even then, I missed some things. And thats whats so dope about it to me.


“Start in tight, Downey’s puss full frame, like so: his creased Valentine of a face has some puff and scarification on it, some overtorqued, Dakar Rally, desert-of-the-soul mileage, but he’s still hustling, still shape-shifting, still a man’s man and a ladies’ man, still a wanking matinee idol, liquid-brown boyish-shy eyes a-wobble, warm voice twanging from hoarse Jew’s-harp burble to wheezing, pennywhistle laugh in a fingersnap. Words–thousands upon thousands of words–burst yawping from him, seemingly unfiltered and unbidden, overflowing an instrumental self whose sole means of control is a steady-Eddie self-surrender, hugging shores of work, Wing Chun kung fu, and love. Grinning prisoner in a loose-fit jailhouse of kinetic bliss, forty-one years ancient, Robert Downey’s ripe and ready for his close-up

The Quiet One by Scott Raab