For the last few years, I haven’t been able to rid myself of the idea of a deconstructed late-night talk show. It would be stripped back and minimal, paring down the format to its smallest constituent parts. I’ve got it down to four parts: a monologue, some kind of variety-show miscellany (usually a game or a sketch or five minutes of standup), an interview with the main character of the moment, and a musical performance. My gimmick would be firing a shrink ray at the format and making the whole thing ten minutes long. I never landed on a medium for this hypothetical show; maybe a podcast, maybe good ol’ video. I never thought to give text a try. And here you are, reading my first go at it. Monologue, check.

II.

My hottest Scrabble take is that the dictionary we use for play should be updated every three months, as if it were software. By the time the dictionary committee decides it’s update time, tons of new and strange words fall through the cracks (no doubt the window to include CHEUGY* has closed). There are dictionary gaps in the hard sciences; I know this is the case because I recently got OXYTOSIS* challenged off the board during a recent casual game. Adding buzzy words more frequently would draw attention to the game. If I had my way, a word like THROUPLES* would be acceptable by now, which I only bring up because I recently realized it has a current Scrabble-legal anagram. Send me an email or otherwise get in touch if you figure out what the anagram is. No cheating.

III.

Well, I don’t have an interview lined up, and I sure as shit have not done anything newsworthy lately. I think the last time I had my name in the papers is when I caught a clutch fly ball during a children’s softball game when I was in 4th grade. I didn’t even have to use whatever meager arm cannon I had that day; it was a third out. In any case, what I can do in lieu of an interview is share some work in progress. These snippets are not in their final form and will likely not amount to anything. Hell, they probably won’t even have titles. But writing is more than about images and feelings; it’s about tonnage. Reps. Here, have some grist:

The Décarie Expressway is empty, and I don’t mean there’s the odd crossover SUV or rust-riddled jalopy carving the night, it is empty, no cops, no construction, no lights, a tranquil concrete clearing that hasn’t lost an ounce of menace. It is empty, but I’ll still get run over somehow; it is empty, but I still hope the urban wildlife doesn’t wonder too hard about why this river of exhaust fumes and bent metal is now as placid as a lake on a fall night.

IV.

The last album I listened to was D’Angelo’s 1995 debut effort Brown Sugar. Somehow, this record is the D’Angelo project I was the least familiar with, despite it being a pillar of neo-soul and a continuation of the smooth, sophisticated R&B sounds of the 80s that I have a soft spot for. Here’s what I wrote on my Record Club account: “This album is full of great sounds, the musty mutedness of the drum samples, the unobtrusive funk guitar, organs and horns galore, but the best sound on the album is that voice, D'Angelo's voice, when it's multitracked into tight falsetto harmonies. This is Groove City, baby, and D'Angelo is Mayor for Life.“ I really like the cover of “Cruisin’,” originated by Smokey Robinson. I wonder what that dude is up to. You know what? On second thought, I’d rather not know. What I do know is that Brown Sugar is a great album, and that means all of D’Angelo’s albums are great, a perfect three for three.

#dd