C and I are off to Bloomington for a campus visit today, so weekend notes will have to wait. To tide you over, a slew of links, including three oral histories.
I’m rarely at the beginning of any trends. But I did get my first Livestrong bracelet right around this time 20 years ago. I was wearing it when M was born, as my first pictures as a father can confirm.
I can’t take any credit for knowing that the bracelets would turn into a ubiquitous accessory within a few months. I was just buying something from Nike.com when they were first released, and there was a suggestion to add one to my basket at checkout. This must have been shortly after they were first released, based on how quickly they became impossible to find. I liked Lance Armstrong. I was into everything Nike. My step-dad was a cancer survivor. Why not for a buck?
One of the proudest moments of my life came a few weeks later when one of our neighbors’ kids, who was in middle school at the time, came running over to me when I was working in the yard to show off his Livestrong bracelet.
Of course, we all know that Livestrong bracelets and clothes went from being everywhere for nearly a decade to something no one wanted to be seen in again. Makes sense for a trend that I was onto at the start.
Anyway, this is a look back at how a 15-cent ring of silicone changed the world.
Whole companies now exist to manufacture silicone bracelets—tens of millions each year—in every color of the rainbow, customized for specific types of cancer, for other diseases, or as individual memorial totems. That all started with a little band of yellow.
Making the Band: An Oral History of the Livestrong Bracelet
I’ve avoided any reviews or discussion of the new Beverly Hills Cop movie because I want to hope it’s decent and not be disappointed when I watch it sometime this week. But I did read this spoiler-free breakdown of the series.
Ashton: I remember the “supercops” thing in the first one. Well, Eddie made all that up. It was just all made up. He said, “Wait a minute.” He walked away for a while and he came back and he says, “OK, I’m ready.” And then it was a three-shot with me and Judge and Eddie, and Eddie’s going, “These guys are supercops. You ought to give ’em capes.” I was trying not to laugh.
The Heat Is On, Again: The Oral History of Axel Foley
This history of Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story features one of the greatest celebrity anecdotes I’ve ever come across.
Williams: I don’t really spend money in strip clubs. I’m making sure that I’m OK for work the next morning. I’m in the bathroom, and Vince is in there. I’m like, “Hey, I’m gonna head back to the hotel.” He’s like, “What are you talking about?” I was like, “You know, we gotta work in the morning.” He’s like, “No, no, no, no.” He pulls out $400, gives it to me, and he goes, “You go back out there, and you make me proud.” So I was like, “OK, I guess I’ll stay for a little longer.” We had such a great time.
Go Balls Deep: The Oral History of ‘Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story’
In advance of the latest Crowded House album, Neil Finn got the full treatment at Stereogum. A terrific, first-hand review of his career.
We’ve Got A File On You: Neil Finn
Where my weather geeks at? A cool site that shows which of the many forecasting tools out there have been most accurate for your location recently.
While working on a recent RFTS post, I came across this piece about the history of AT40. I loved this line about the catch phrase I named the series for.
It was a very Casey Kasem thing to do. He felt compelled to provide a bit of philosophical advice for listeners — especially the younger ones — rather than simply say goodbye. Coming from anyone else, it might have sounded a bit corny but it sounded just right coming from Kasem. It was all part and parcel of making a countdown show more than a list of songs.