My mother gleefully reported that at a recent book signing walkie-talkies were employed for a Q & A where he turned his back to the audience and would only answer queries that terminated with the word "over". Oh, and if you didn't specify who you wanted your book made out to, Hodgman's default inscription began with, "Dear eBay winner."
He's attained what he refers to as Minor Celebrity Status, which means he now flies first class with people like Rachel Hunter and Peter Berg, mostly due to his iconic appearance as a "PC" in those Apple ads, which are a bit ironic not only because Hodgman himself has been a Macintosh nerd for decades, but because he's quickly becoming the cooler guy in the scenario.
I mean, I like Justin Long. I thought highly of him in the potentially good, but ultimately middling Jeepers Creepers, though I expected a bit more from him than just a spot in Drew Barrymore's pantheon of ex boy toys. But frankly, where Mr. Long seems like a funny kid who makes great appearances in dude-friendly comedies like Idiocracy and Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story, Hodgman, round faced and bespectacled, is a true modern wit -- and someone who would probably hang around for a conversation about Pluto and Dune over a breakfast of fresh apple juice and croissants the next morning.
Sadly all this new found semi fame means that I'll probably never get to experience one of his Little Gray Book Lectures that he once hosted in my own back yard -- but, with any luck, I'll be able to see him November 21st at the Apple Store!
"Dear Ex Lover," he wrote. "Perhaps you didn't understand the last time I
told you to stop contacting me, so I'll do my best to spell it out for you. I do
not wish to have you in my life anymore. I don't know how much more clear I can
be about it. It would serve you best to move on with your life and find someone
who can put up with you, because I'm done trying. I hope this is enough closure
for you. Goodbye."
"...Devised to bring the guitar-playing experience to the masses without them having to put anything into it. And having done both, there’s nothing like really playing guitar. I
mean, what would you rather drive, a Ferrari or one of those
amusement-park cars on a track?”
Hunks category pick for the week of 1/28/08
Here's what I said then:
My adoration for the show Classic Albums, which I recommended not too long ago, has only increased with each viewing. Recently, the in-depth look at The Band
and their fiercely individualistic style and music piqued my interest.
Taking notes from the history of America to write their songs, which
were recorded democratically, The Band
didn’t look to their contemporaries too much for inspiration and ended
up sounding, and even looking, so wholly different and intriguing that
the music world was captivated by these strange, very handsome men who
once performed with Bob Dylan.
They were solely interested in the music rather than the fame (they even appeared on the cover of Rolling Stone
with their backs to the camera), but the public wanted more and more of
them. They rarely made appearances, which gave the times they did
perform an air of being momentous and special. Their mysterious
reputation was only furthered by the time singer/guitarist Robbie
Robertson had to enlist the aid of a physic healer in order to perform.
Now take a look at Elliot Landy’s
iconic portraits of the band in the Catskills. I would go so far as to
say they were the best dressed rock stars period, with their impeccable
mix of rugged mountain manliness and old fashioned gentlemen fanciness.
They look shockingly contemporary and oh! I just can’t stop gushing
about how totally cool these guys were. Of course, they made my list as
hunks because, clearly, they were all devastatingly handsome too.
When tall and handsome Duane Jones was cast in Night of the Living Dead, George Romero had no intention of making history by casting the first black actor as a non-ethnic lead in an American film, Jones was just the best actor among Romero’s friends (a tidbit of information I picked up from Document of the Dead). The film, which still stands as a masterwork, benefits from his strong, dignified presence. If the zombies were trying to breakdown the door to my farmhouse, there are worse heroes to ask for by your side than Jones.
His career in movies, which only includes a few other films like 1986's almost-should-have-been-good Vampires and a film called To Die For, which I learned from this clip is unfortunately not the Gus Van Sant classic. He spent years as a professor of Theater and English at NYU and was artistic director at The Richard Allen Center. He died at age 52 of heart failure.
This Monday marked the end of the promising and troubled life of Guillaume Depardieu, he died of pneumonia at the age of 37. While he never lived up to the true potential of his career–imbued with strongly handsome features, he could have at least equaled the career of his father, Gerard–I personally was quite taken with him when I was a teen.
With long golden hair and a beautiful face, I watched him with deeply crushing eyes in Tous Les Matins du Monde, which was directed by Alain Corneau (director of last week's movie pick, Serie Noire) and co-starred his father. I remember very little about the film except for Guillaume's face and was later so heart broken to hear about his constant struggle with drugs and the horrible motorcycle accident that took his leg.
It's very sad again to hear of his death, which came far too soon.
I think I stumbled upon a worthy obsession in Serie Noir star Patrick Dewaere. A promising star in 1970’s France, Deweare starred alongside Gerard Depardieu, the two of them promised a new generation of masterful leading men. His life and career were tragically cut short when he committed suicide at the age of 35. He left behind several films, all of which have been added to my queue, where he usually played outsiders, neurotics, losers, and misfits.
He's incredibly charming on film despite his character’s often seedy and discpicable flaws. His eyes are deep and spirited–his moustache sublime. I'm grateful that I was introduced to his work; it continues to amaze and thrill me that there will always be great things out there to discover. Patrick Deweare, who never had the chance to make a name for himself internationally, is one of my most famous of those recent discoveries.
I am sure there was more than one distraught teased head, more than one sobbing mascaraed and blue eye-shadowed eye when metal god and Judas Priest front man, Rob Halford announced he was gay. Until then, as we know from Heavy Metal Parking Lot, girls wanted to “jump his bones”. Even though it was officially announced in the press in 1998, it had been a known secret for years by his friends and other music insiders. I wonder which leather ensemble clued them in. His coming out was met with enormous support from the fans, proving that heavy metal dudes are way more tolerant than most upstanding middle moms and dads.
Duran Duran was the boy band of hunks for those cool older girls when I was in elementary school. They were lucky to have these pretty British boys in the pages of their Teen Beats, as airbrushed to look like plastic dolls as they were. All we got were lots of Kirk Cameron and some Wil Wheaton.
Totally aware of their stud status for teenage girls, John Taylor described his band as "like a box of Quality Street [chocolates]; everyone is someone's favourite". Taylor and Nick Rhodes would be my favorite. I never chose lead singers to fall for, too predictable and as a young lady tween I wanted to be different.
Duran Duran was also always aware of changing styles and kept abreast of the look, whether it was as new romantics in blowing tops or clad in Giorgio Armani on a yacht and MTV was there to capture it all.
A pop sensation, Falco will forever be remembered for Der Kommissar and Rock Me Amadeus. I was escpailly thrilled as a kid who happened to be a massive fan of the 1984 film, Amadeus (a film I still consider one of the best ever made), by his spectacular, now classic video where he struts as a dapper gentlemen (no one else in the 80s pulled off a tuxedo and slicked back hair so well) and a punked out Mozart.
His fame was short lived, but he was planning a comeback when he was killed in a bus accident at the young age of 41.
The designer has been on a fashion designing hiatus since he left Dior, but has been behind the camera plenty and has a book called Rock Dairy out now. More photos, mostly of his fabulously cool friends like Gus Van Sant can be seen on his website.
But he’s in this entry to be a hunk, so all his Renaissance Man attributes aside (he’s also the editor-in-chief of Libération, he designing album covers, and is always working on art shows on top of it all), he’s also make-you-want-to-die dashing. He looks like an alien sent to earth with the mission to become the hippest guy on the planet.
