Reading and Writing in a Digital Age

“Life, although it may be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.” (Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, pg. 114) These words are spoken by the monster when Frankenstein encounters him on top of a glacier in the Arveiron. The monster regales his tale of mistreatment and alienation at the hands of society throughout his journey of self – discovery. This quote makes me think of the unfortunate circumstances of my life and how they have shaped me as a citizen and as a individual. To me, anguish means the loss of my grandfather to cancer years before I was even born, the downfall of my great grandmother in my infancy, and the deaths of both of my grandmothers in the summer before last. Such losses cause one to reflect very heavily on the quality and meaning of life. For some, these losses signify the fruitlessness of one’s endeavors that implore them to give up. But for others, like me, this anguish has led me to believe that life is sacred and should never be wasted in terms of time and work for the benefit of society and close friends and relatives. I want to make the most of my life because I don’t know if there are any chances beyond this one. I’ll make use of the monumental opportunity given to me and will defend it to the end of time, space, and humanity,

I felt that acts 1, 2, and 5 had humor, but no thought-provoking ideas, and that Act 6 was way too overdrawn to be interesting. I nearly fell asleep. It didn’t matter that the topic was humorous; I just couldn’t concentrate on it long enough to appreciate it.

Act 3

I identified very much with Alex’s dad. Doesn’t watch much TV? Check. Atheist? Check. Intrigued by science, philosophy, abstract ideas? Check. When he brought up the idea of coming out of the closet as a way for groups other than gay people to seek acceptance, I actually chuckled a little.

“Corporate personhood.” Usually when I think about it, I laugh and shake my head. “How could the Supreme Court make such a ludicrous ruling?”, I think, and that is that. But Alex Blumberg’s dad’s story in “Stories Pitched By Our Parents” made me think more about it. I’d never fully considered the implications of what NOT treating a corporation as a person could mean: for corporate rights, for the rights of people working for a corporation, etc. It hasn’t changed my view that corporations should not be treated as people, but I better understand why I feel that way.

Aside from the thought-provoking aspect of it, the story that went along with it was very entertaining and engaging, especially how calling the U.S. Chamber of Commerce sent him to a libertarian UCLA professor. The contact the Chamber of Commerce gave him was someone who very clearly did not represent the Chamber of Commerce- a bit of irony, as they were asking about representation.

The segue out of the story was great too. It drove home why they hadn’t done the story initially: there just wasn’t a good way to wrap it up! The story trails off because it has no true focus, and they portray that excellently in the segment.

Act 4

Act 4 was interesting, and reminded me a bit of my dad. My dad is also pretty innovative- he’s a computer programmer and has worked for Disney, EZ-Pass, Bell Labs, and the Olympics, among other things- and he used to do many projects that were pointless or overly complex, just to prove that they could be done that way.

I agree with the last thing Alex Blumberg said before they started Act 5: “Well, that worked so well, because it was about him. Like, it wasn’t outside of him. But not just that, but you made it not the story, but about the fact of it– yeah, that was cool.” The story was interesting, but the point wasn’t the story; the point was the way it was told. That time changes perception, that individuality and pride were what kept the story alive… that gave it depth. It made it human.

What Makes A Story Interesting… 

What really makes a story interesting for me is when it stimulates my intellect, my humor, and my curiosity. Act 3 was quirky and funny and thought-provoking, and I was able to listen intently the whole time. Act 4 was all of those things as well, but it provoked a more abstract type of thought. It had more room for artistic interpretation, which can be a negative thing for a radio show segment, as there’s no time to just sit and think, but actually worked out well, as I had the transcript to review and meditate on afterwards.

Among the six stories, I found Nancy’s dad’s story the most entertaining and Robyn’s dad’s story the most interesting.

The reason why Nancy’s story was entertaining to me was because of her song, which caught my attention from the first part of its lyrics: “What do you do with a canal to the moon, when the railroad gets to there a lot more soon?” I thought that was an ingenious and funny line that she played off of what Craig Williams said, “They were building a canal to the moon.” Just imagine a canal that stretches to the moon, and then a railroad next to it; I saw quite an image imagining the race through the use of these two transportation methods. Moreover, I especially like that she decided to sing about the dull topic of the Erie Canal. But with her song and the use of country music, it became entertaining. It liven me a bit from Lisa’s story about Funny Funerals, which I thought was ponderous.

What caught my interest in Robyn’s dad’s story was how curious and inventive Robyn’s dad was, and the fact that he never got tired of telling the story simply because he wanted to tell his family of something cool he did. It was relatable. We were all young when we wanted to do things that are impractical or outrageous. I know I once did, like that time when I was five or six and thought I could fly if I ran really fast and jump with all my might at a decently high place. I was flying, for a second, and then fell hard on my knees. In any case, building a panel to have all car functions was unique – out of a phone dial too! I wanted to know more about how his dad did it and what happened, which was what Robyn told us and more. He turned the story of his dad’s invention into a story about that by interviewing people who also heard his dad’s story. Linking his dad’s perspective with the multi-perspectives of others’ impression of his dad’s story was difficult. But he pulled it off effectively. I enjoyed that story.

What makes a story interesting may be how entertaining and/or unique the topic is. If it’s something soothing to our ears like a song or a good tune to how the story is convey, it can be interesting. And if the topic is something we would usually not think of or do like Robyn’s dad’s invention – one switch, it can be interesting. Because a radio show is a talk show, the speaker must do his/her best to create an image of what is happening and do well to present that image to the audience for any story to be remarkable. If we can visualize what the speaker is talking about, it makes us want to listen and be amused. I think those are essentially what make a story interesting: entertainment, uniqueness and visualization.

As a disclaimer, I am not a radio person. Without visual images and movement, my mind would naturally begin to zone out after 15 minutes of a story that is molded for a particular type of audience. These radio stories were all mediocre to me. The producers were all very creative, the final products just seemed dulled due to the topics that were chosen. What seemed strange to me was how they originally planned it out. The competition was to develop the best story/show from their parents’ suggestion. These suggestions weren’t previously used because they were initially thought to be not quite good. So why would it seem like such a great idea to clump a whole bunch of rejected ideas together and tie them together by one flimsy topic related theme?

Listening to Lisa Pollak play back that story about the Ukrainian funeral seemed a bit strange, the tone of voice was genuinely excited and good humored. It was a decent, and arguably, I agree with the final decision of it being the best produced show. However, at the end of the 62 minutes, the only Julie Synder and Sarah Koenig’s story with the two ultra concise dialogues. There are expectations of radio stations that I simply don’t find interesting. The producers are given a time gap to fill, but many of the most potent stories are short, simple, and sweet. Overdevelopment can leave a bad taste, not to mention cause the listeners to stop paying attention, especially when it would take 16 minutes to tell one story…

Taking 16 seconds to say “she was kind of whispering something, and we bent down and she said ‘I’m bored’,” is comparably the most effective and creative use of time and audio entertainment that was possible and relevant to the show topic. It was the most interesting to me because it wasn’t explained too much; the pure humor of it was enough for me to enjoy what I heard. For the other stories, there was more time spent on musical transitions or anticipation pauses in voice, which were good, but the topics seemed bland, or overworked to be original. The topic of what’s said is definitely what makes me feel that a story is interesting.

Before I started listening to this, I was nervous, because it’s essentially an hour of fundamentally bad stories. The first one immediately caught my attention, though (partially because I was literally just up to a character’s funeral in the book I was reading). And it was pretty relevant, as the main character had written up a funny eulogy, and then opted for a more generic and serious one. According to this book, funerals are no place for humor. In the radio show, a funeral director comments, “In the funeral business, humor can be a touchy subject.” It’s rare that something happens at a funeral that makes people laugh out loud without feeling like awful, heartless monsters. The Ukranian church story really got me, though, because I have been there. The first time I ever attended a funeral I was probably twelve years old, and the rabbi accidentally fell in. The grave. He tripped and fell in the grave and it was so ridiculous that when we got him out, he started laughing. And then everyone was laughing. It wasn’t in a disrespectful way, but I think we were all so taken aback and uncomfortable that there was really no other option. These things happen. I can especially relate to the “Barbara Drobish was a GOOD LADY” because I would probably start laughing too. Ridiculous Ukrainian (okay, substitute Russian) men screaming ridiculous things in your face? Welcome to every family gathering I’ve ever been to.

Not to say that this story would be any less interesting if I hadn’t related to it, but I think it helps. I think the best kind of stories are the ones that lead to more stories. I also liked how much of it was recorded. By allowing the couple to retell their Ukrainian church tale themselves, she gets more out of the story. It’s almost like she’s saying, “See? They thought it was funny too!” She also records random things like the funeral home’s recorded message to take the listener with her as she searches for these crazy stories.

To be honest, many of the others bored me after a while. Listening to the Erie Canal story, I thought, “Awesome, they’re singing!” but then it just started to feel like a middle school history lesson. I also liked the story about the cars at first, and I thought the dramatic music had a funny effect, but I also lost interest halfway through. I think there was too much technical talk about cars, and I just couldn’t bring myself to care. Needless to say, I didn’t get as much out of these stories as I did the first one.

Before I listened to any of the stories, I read the descriptions of all of them. Under Nancy’s Dad’s story I saw the keyword ‘music.’ I’m not going to lie, I thought that story was going to be the one I wrote about. Yes, the word ‘music’ was under act five’s description but the words ‘mother,’ ‘children,’ and ‘religion’ were also there so I didn’t have much hope for it. So, I listened to the prologue and when it finished I clicked on Nancy’s Dad’s story. Well the story was relatively boring and the song was honestly terrible, so I moved on…

I found Robyn’s Dad’s story the most interesting out of all of the other one’s. It was the second one that I listened to but after hearing the rest, I knew it was the one I would write about. Maybe it is just because I am a guy and things like this enthuse us, but I found it awesome. Altering a car to be cool in the 50’s is an interesting idea to begin with. And, I was unaware of the little fact that it was common practice to remove chrome parts and replace it with primer paint. A story about a young man in the 1950’s trying to impress others is simple and amusing. The combination of inventing electronics and the trendiness of the concept pulled me in. Picturing a rotary dial in the middle of the steering wheel blew me away and, honestly, I want one in the middle of my steering wheel. How awesome would that be?

Also, even though music was not tagged in the description, it played a nice role in the story. It was light and even gave the story more humor. The use of “Sprach Zarathustra” actually made me laugh. It was like the dad in the story discovered his life purpose with this switch. When Robyn said that the switch was her dad’s “Thomas Edison” moment, I felt the pride that her dad felt when he got the switch working. He must have been excited about it for her to refer to his accomplishment like that. And being that her dad tells this story often, and how apparently it is his ‘favorite’ story to tell, shows that he is still proud of himself after 50+ years. I admire that; I hope that one day I accomplish something that I want to tell over and over again.

The story is like a refreshing blast from the past and the ingenuity of the man is inspiring. All I want to do right now is find something to do that is different and rewarding. After I finish writing this blog post, I think I am going to find something weirdly wonderful to do. I want someone look at me and think, “No… that didn’t just happen…”

Before this week, the only time I ever listened to the radio was in the car. Most of the time, it would be a Russian talk show that my parents like to follow. But This American Life is really beginning to change the way I feel about radio. From the super-hero episode to the letter readings, to this–“Stories Pitched by Our Parents”–it’s a phenomenal show. I could go on and on talking about how much I love it but that’s not really the point of this post, now is it? The point is to talk about what makes a good story and who I think did the best job of doing so in the latest episode we all listened to.

To be quite honest, after hearing Lisa’s story, I couldn’t get over it. It had me laughing so hard that I could barely pay attention to the ones that followed. It goes without saying that the final story was the absolute best part of her entire act but I’ll get to that later. What first made me laugh was her mother and the way she was talking about the funeral she had been to. She sounded as though she found it so funny that she couldn’t talk about it without bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter. Have you ever had that moment where your friend is laughing so hard at something that you start laughing not because of the thing they’re laughing at but because of the fact that they’re laughing so hard? That’s how I felt listening to Lisa’s mom. Even when Lisa began to seriously look for funny stories about funerals, I couldn’t help but think back to her mother and start giggling.

Another thing that drew me in immediately was how genuine this story was. Lisa’s mother didn’t try to talk about heavy topics like corporate personhood, she just wanted to hear stories that would make her laugh. I didn’t feel like I was being taught a lesson or being forced to listen to some boring speech. I felt like  I was listening to a friend tell a story. I think the topic itself, although it could be somewhat grim, is also very genuine. There’s something ultimately human about death–it’s something everyone witnesses and something everyone experiences. I think it’s nice to look at it from a humorous perspective for a change. But although the story was very funny and down to earth, it did, at some points, stride towards a more universal message. I especially noticed this when Lisa interviewed Randy Earl and Ron Hast. “It turns out,” she says, “that in the funeral business, humor can be a touchy subject.”  Death usually isn’t funny. It’s very sad and it reminds us all of our mortality. It makes our hopes and dreams and who we are and what we do seem insignificant. And it makes life seem scarily pointless.

What’s great about this story is that it follows the best structure known to man–the sandwich. All the sadness and Lisa’s failed attempts to find something funny about death are in the middle, while all of the best parts are in the beginning and at the end. During the commentary after her story, Alex Blumberg comments, “You recorded the crap out of it. That was what made it so amazing.” I couldn’t agree more! What really made some of the anecdotes so funny was the people telling telling them. And as though the tie story and the pastor who locked himself in the closet weren’t hilarious enough, there came the Ukrainian church.

I think part of the reason I found the Ukrainian church story so absolutely hilarious is that I’m, well, Ukrainian.  And boy do I have some great Ukrainian church stories for Lisa Pollack. The part about donations and the voices Rob used and the way he changed his tone depending on the “good” donation or the “bad” one made it seem all too real–once again a benefit of recording the crap out of a story. I could definitely imagine myself sitting in that church, laughing as Bill Murray publicly humiliated all of my family members and then went out of his way to say something in English. Especially something like, “Barbara Drobish was a good lay! Dee!”

I liked Robyn’s dad’s story the most. It was interesting and the idea was new to me. I could relate to it the most. The comment about the purpose at the end made me smile.

“It was cool. It made him stand out. And if anyone wanted the window down, or the radio on, they had to go through him.”

Like many people, I can relate to the story because I have a family member (my mom) that has repeated many stories to me as if I didn’t hear them before. But I can relate in another way because there were times I would try to stand out or be unique. I may not remember specific incidents, but I know that feeling.

What makes a story interesting is how thought provoking the content is. Being able to relate to the story is part of this, since the story makes you think of memories and feelings about the matter. If the person can relate to the story, then he or she can think about the differences and expand on something.

An interesting story could use universal topics, which many people can easily relate to or think about. You may not be able to relate to a story, but if the message or a particular part makes you think, you probably found it interesting. Irony in a story is good, and the shock or surprise gets you to think, whether it be your own experiences with irony, how the characters feel about it, or what would happen now. Sometimes people expect a plot twist and when they are right, they do not find it interesting because there is nothing new to it so it’s not as thought provoking. Stories with new concepts make you think about such concepts and the possible situations with them, making them more likely to be interesting. Concepts or situations that seem old to some people may be new to others, so the interest would vary. Some stories may be more thought provoking towards certain audiences, which could probably be the intended audience. And some people may think about how a story is not interesting and how things were done before or how part of it seemed pointless, but that’s not the thinking I’m talking about. I hope that made sense.

Lately I’ve been giving a lot of thought to radio and how it differs from other forms of media. It’s not like television, as there’s nothing visual to draw the audience in. It’s not like a book, since we’re not interpreting a physical text. And it’s not the internet, because we’re not allowed to contribute as we usually do. Radio is something far more difficult to deal with.

With radio, we’re asked to listen to what other people have to say — which makes it that much harder for the speaker to keep the audience’s attention. We have to rely solely on what we hear, without anything else to enhance the experience. And so navigating the world of radio requires a certain…finesse.

Like, radio hosts need to have a certain degree of voice control — because they can’t use physical comedy, like weird facial expressions and wild gestures. Instead, they fall back on things like tone, pitch, music, and sound effects. It’s hard work, but when it’s done right it can be wildly successful.

This American Life, for example, thrives because Ira Glass has been honing his craft for years. He knows exactly what he’s doing — which is probably why he doesn’t use the ideas pitched by other people. When parents, friends, and even strangers on the street pitch Ira and the rest of the producers ideas, they’re not thinking about how well the story will translate to radio. More often than not, these ideas end up being “you had to be there” moments. That was how I felt about Ira’s dad’s story. It was funny to the Glass family, because they were all there and it made for a fairly memorable experience — for them.  But personally, I was bored by it.

I liked Lisa’s segment, though that was only because she made it more about the reporting process rather than the stories themselves. The idea of a funny funeral is really interesting, but obviously it was fairly difficult for her to pull off, which is why she went the route that she did. But if she had found some more substantive stories, that segment would have totally rocked.

I didn’t like Nancy’s segment because The Erie Canal angle is totally unappealing to me. Who cares what happened to it? Why does it matter? I will begrudgingly admit that the song was cute, although I felt like it would have been more successful in an educational video for grade school kids.

Unlike our faithful group of producers and the sound engineer that fell asleep, I liked Alex’s dad’s idea. Corporate personhood as a concept is something I think a lot about. It’s totally weird because it has both limitations and wiggle room simultaneously. Plus, I love hearing people rant and rave about this kind of stuff like Papa Blumberg was doing. However, I’m in the minority, and so I have to concede that it was likely mind-numbing for other people.

I loved Robyn’s dad’s story. It was definitely my favorite. I loved his voice. (Is it just me, or did he sound like a jovial Morgan Freeman?) And the way it built up with the music in the background was brilliant. Even though it’s practiced – because he’s told it over and over and over again – it still maintains a natural flow. And the arc of people’s reactions only served to build it up further.

I think it was an interesting decision of Ira’s part to include Alissa’s mom’s and Sarah’s mom’s stories. Because even though they didn’t work out so well, they provided a contrast to the ones that did work. So that got me thinking about the underlying theme in this broadcast.

Jane’s dad’s idea, and the  subsequent story about Petit Goave and life in Haiti after the earthquake, was really interesting to listen to. I was especially impressed by the narration, which was done very well.

So back to the idea behind this broadcast. This American Life is obviously a popular radio show. It wouldn’t have made it to 400 episodes if it wasn’t. I appreciate what the producers were trying to do with this broadcast because they were, essentially, testing the limits of radio as a medium. What works? What doesn’t? And if something doesn’t work, how do you make it work?

Again, it’s a difficult means to work with. But This American Life seems to do it pretty well every time.

I had a lot of hope for this broadcast, because I felt the idea of taking ideas from parents and turning them into more developed stories would be interesting to hear, and because it’s something practically everyone understands – the dreaded “Fable of ‘When I Was Your Age…'” I appreciate all the, um, research, that some of the storytellers put into their story, but I don’t feel a lot of these “stories” were actual stories. They were retellings. Just facts and observations. I liked the concept of it, yes, and I can see how the broadcast could interest a lot of people, but I just felt put off a bit. Then again, I feel like I had a problem with the way they were talking. If you replaced everyone’s voice with Morgan Freeman’s I’m sure I would have enjoyed it more.

They had to tell stories, right? A story has a plot. It has characters. It has plot progression, a climax, and a resolution. Sometimes there’s even a lesson or thought shoved in there. And all of it is sown together nicely so that listeners can appreciate the craft of storytelling. So, I found it odd that Ira’s story only had 1.1% of the listener’s vote. Then I found out why.

I liked that he called his dad and his step-mom to help him tell the story – but as for the actual events they told us, I wasn’t that interested. Well, I was, but I kept getting let down. First, I thought that the story would turn into a hilarious montage of hi-jinx as the three of them chased after the train to retrieve the suit, or some variation on the eventful “lost luggage at the airport” story. No, they just got a cheaper suit. “Oh!” I thought to myself, “They’re going to tell us that after all the ‘scotch tape altering’ they did so they could return the suit the next day, he spills something on it, or the scotch tape accidentally tears part of the suit off!” Again, no. I listened to the ending of his story twice, wondering if I missed some nugget of storytelling in how he unenthusiastically rushed through: “Everything went great. Blah blah. The end.” Yawn.

But then his story redeemed itself, if just a little. That interjection from Ira’s dad about how this was like “another normal visit,” and the resulting conversation which revealed that Ira’s dad thinks that something always goes wrong when his son visits was notable. It made it feel like a real story that a parent would tell. They go on and on about the most boring stuff, but then they derail and somehow reveal something that makes you go “What? You really think that?”