Episode 15 - Between You And Me

Thanks for Hitting Play and then listening to Hit Play. This week: spit, Bernie, Instagram, sourdough, and jogging.

Some of the plays in this episode may contain sensitive topics. For more specific content warnings, check out the timecodes below.

If you like what you hear and want to support the New York Neo-Futurists, consider making a donation at nynf.org, or joining our Patreon. Patreon membership gives you access to bonus content like video plays! We’d really appreciate any support in these difficult times. Contributing to our Patreon helps us continue to pay our artists. 

Take care of yourself, arrange some paper clips in a pleasing way, and share it with us on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook.

1:59 - Spitting Distance by Laura Killeen featuring Michaela Farrell and Julia Melfi

5:53 - Almost-Socialist by Anooj Bhandari

7:58 - Rob Neill Versus Instagram by Lee LeBreton featuring Rob Neill

11:31 - 7 Clever Uses for Discard by Marta Rainer

17:16 [CW: racism, police brutality] - Jogging while masked while black by Kyra Sims

20:53 - Audio Crime with Cecil Baldwin 

Our logo was designed by Shelton Lindsay

Our sound is designed by Anthony Sertel Dean

Hit Play is produced by Anthony Sertel Dean and Julia Melfi 

Take Care!

Transcript 

Episode 15: Between You And Me

Show Intro

Upbeat strummy electronic instrumental music plays underneath.

Julia: 15: Between You And Me. I’m Julia Melfi—a New York Neo-Futurist. While our on-going, ever-changing, late-night show, The Infinite Wrench, is on hold for the foreseeable future, we wanted a place to keep making art for you. And thus, Hit Play was born!  

If you’re already a fan of The New York Neo-Futurists, or any of our sibling companies, hi! We can’t wait to be gossiping with you about the table next to us real soon. If this is totally new to you—welcome to it!

We play by four rules: We are who we are, we’re doing what we’re doing, we are where we are, and the time is now. Simply put: we tell stories, and those stories are our own. Everything that you hear is actually happening. So if we tell you we're recording while doing an under-eye sheet mask, we’re really recording while doing an under-eye sheet mask. Like I'm doing right now. Oh my god, that feels amazing. 

Julia: And now, Marta will Run the Numbers!

Marta: Hi I’m Marta, a New York Neo-Futurist Alum.  

In this episode we’re bringing you 4 plays by Laura Killeen featuring Michaela Farrell and Julia Melfi, Anooj Bhandari, Lee LeBreton featuring Rob Neill, and myself–Marta Rainer. Plus, an Audio Crime provided by Cecil Baldwin.

And that brings us to 64 experiments on Hit Play. Enjoy!

Julia: Hey, it's Julia again with a little peek behind the curtain. So normally we gather our plays for this podcast on Monday, and that short turnaround allows us to really respond to the world around us. But sometimes we want to be even more nimble and responsive. This week is one of those weeks! Kyra Sims wrote a play for Ahmaud Arbery's birthday and we're including that play fifth, right before the audio crime. Feel free to look at the show notes for more specific content warnings. Now onto the show.

Music winds down.

Play 1: Spitting Distance (1:59)

Laura: Spitting Distance. GO!

The sound of water filling a glass from a bottle, the pitch getting higher as it fills. Electronic chords underscore. 

Laura: Michaela, do you ever think about how we’ve drunk each others’ spit?

Michaela: Not really, Laura, no. 

Laura: I think about it quite frequently at the moment. 

Michaela: Tell me more!

They both laugh.

Laura: Well, I think what I actually think about is my connection to you, and how connected I feel to you. And then I think about how we’ve drunk each other’s spit and what Julia’s play was saying by having us drink each others’ spit.

Julia: ‘Drink this, and remember me’

Laura: Yeah that one. My first line was ‘Water has memory.' It was the day that my partner Mark had flown back to London after visiting me in New York and my heart was heavy. After we’d performed The Infinite Wrench that night, at Fish Bar. About 3am. You said something like: 

Michaela: (sounds distant, yelling) ‘Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?’

Laura: ‘Nothing’. Which wasn’t totally true. I had planned to sit in bed eating pasta and crying and watching Masterchef Australia 

Michaela: (sounds distant, yelling) ‘Let’s go to that farmer’s market’.

Laura: And your belief in it being a good idea was infectious so I caught it and said yes. 

Sound of rain adds to musical underscore

Laura: And found myself out of bed before noon walking through the rain to meet you. 

Michaela: It was a comfortable rain. Wet on the outside but on the inside I felt so warm and fuzzy. It was a nostalgic rain. 

Laura: You had tiny flecks of water on your glasses. We found shelter under the gazebos of the stalls and did a drive-by of every seller before going back to purchase. We did every free sample. Juicy rough hewn apple, tomato on my chin. Your utter amazement at those dips or spreads or whatever they were.

Michaela: Hummus! We tried hummus a thousand times. And cookie batter, some shit. 

Laura: Nut butters.

Michaela: Yes! We were just making friends with all these people. And the arugula // Oh my God. That salty kind of rubbery arugula. It was so gorgeous. 

Text overlaps at the //s

Laura: // Oh my God, the arugula. The best I’ve ever had in my life.

Michaela: But I remember specifically the colours. Being able to look at all the fruits and veggies and how beautiful and big and voluptuous they looked. Everything just looked so gorgeous. And then, you were wearing a red raincoat that was really bright against the little cobblestone of the park and the green. It really really worked, like, cinematically. Yes. It was a perfect day. It was a really really nice day.

Laura: It was beautiful. But the thing that mostly gets me about that day was that we were soaked to the skin, cold, surrounded by the greyness of an October Sunday morning, and you proclaimed:

Michaela: (distant, yelling, some reverb echo)  ‘Man, I love this life!’

Laura: And I smiled. And I saw other people smile. And felt other people smile. And felt the ripples of your infectious positivity radiate all over again. And even though we were wet – no, maybe because we were already wet, we carried on walking. Aimlessly, with no goal except not to say goodbye. We knew that I’d be the one on a plane back to London soon. It was the day after the last time we performed that play. 

Julia: ‘Drink this, and remember me.’

Laura: Water has memory. 

Michaela: 6 months later we’re on the phone recommending American 90s teen noir dramas 

Laura: and reality glass blowing competitions.

Michaela: Sharing space.

Laura: Making this play.

Michaela & Laura: Being together. 

Michaela: Distance feels so fluid right now. 

Laura: Separated by an ocean, but forever connected by spit.

Michaela giggles 

Michaela: Is it raining where you are right now?

Laura: No, it is gorgeous outside. 

Michaela: Same. 

The sound of them both spitting. Music fades out. 

Play 2: Almost-Socialist (5:53)

Anooj: Almost-Socialist. GO!

Anooj: I’d like to think myself as somewhat of a socialist, you know, I wanted Bernie Sanders to be the next pres

Bernie Sanders Clip: while we are winning the ideological battle

Anooj: Knew from the start it was a hard bargain and I can name them when I see them, given the nation’s apprehension towards sharing and that my closest reference point for socialism is the way my friends’ eyes light up when they’re cooking something with others’ tastes buds in mind

Bernie Sanders Clip: while we are winning

Anooj: I’ve stopped really caring about elections since I realized a president, at worst, has us demanding to be saved, and at best, has us asking our ancestors to save us

Bernie Sanders Clip: while we are winning

Anooj: Sooah sent me a text that said we should all be resting, should all be taking care, should all be taking stock of the things that are important to us

Bernie Sanders Clip: Winning

Anooj: let me tell you about the big white comforter with square-threaded patches and blue floral print that I drag around the house like a child to call any spread of ground where I can roll and not be blocked a bed, and it would look to the people outside that I’m doing a pretty good job at rocking this whole resting thing

Bernie Sanders Clip: the ideological

Anooj: beneath the blanket my fingers are itching for new slang and my mind wraps rope around itself, takes years of theys and thems and repeats ‘em slowly til the words are nothing but soft murmurs dissolving between my lips distorting how I look in the mirror

Bernie Sanders Clip: while we are winning 

Anooj: this whole phase of chaos and loss and restoration and pause dropped onto the world the moment I got back from a sabbatical of doing what I thought was resting and taking care and taking stock and trying to make sure I never missed it when I watched somebody cook something with me in mind

Bernie Sanders Clip: the ideological

Anooj: there’s a joyous feeling of having no belongings and belonging to nowhere until you are forced to be somewhere

Bernie Sanders Clip: the ideological

Anooj: each time I read that text I say yes

Bernie Sanders Clip: battle

Anooj: of course, yes

Bernie Sanders Clip: battle 

Anooj: my stomach nods the other way and the residual taste on my tongue is unmistakingly salt

Bernie Sanders Clip: battle

Anooj: and I admit

Bernie Sanders Clip: battle

Anooj: the most non-socialist thing about me is that I loved the rest, the care, the stock, a whole lot more when I didn’t have to share it. 

Play 3: Rob Neill Versus Instagram (7:58)

Lee: Rob Neill Versus Instagram. GO!

Lee: Hey. 

Rob: Hey. 

Lee: Rob how would you characterize your relationship with Instagram?

Rob: I like Instagram? And instagram likes me? But more like, roommates, than lovers. 

Lee: Hmm, do you believe those stories about Instagram listening to your conversations?

Rob: There are stories about that?

Lee: People have said that they'll have a conversation about a product or a brand or a thing and then they'll open up instagram and they'll see an ad for it. 

Rob: I just thought that that was just your phone or whatever listening to you, saying we're gonna feed this back to the social media you're on, cause we know you that well. 

Lee: Mmm. Rob, you’re a pretty great listener.

Rob: Oh, thanks!

Lee: Yeah, I think it's a pretty great super power for a boss or an Artistic Director. Rob would you say that you know the New York Neo-Futurists well?

Rob: I think I know them pretty well. 

Lee: Mm, we'll see about that. So Rob according to my data I spend about an hour a day on Instagram. Would you say you know me better than Instagram does?

Rob: No. 

Lee: Ooh! 

Fun bouncy vibraphone-esque music underscore 

Lee: So, as I believe you’re aware, Instagram compiles a list of the perceived interests of each of its users based on who you follow, and where you go, and who you interact with.

Rob: Uh-huh.

Lee: It uses this to advertise things to us of course. If I presented you with one of these lists, do you think you could match it to the correct New York Neo-Futurist?

Rob: Probably not? But I would be willing to give it a shot! 

Lee: Alright, alright. Let’s try one, you ready?

Rob: Yes, let's try one.

Lee: Alright. CrossFit games, Alcoholic beverage, Adventure game, Mark Hamill, Old school hip hop, Fantasy movies, Stage (theatre)

Rob: I will say… Michael Improta!

Bell ding-ding-dings!

Lee: You are correct! 

Rob: Yes!! 

Lee: It is Michael Improta, good job. 

Rob: (Laughs) Wow!

Lee: Alright, next one: Larry David, Comedy movies, Discount stores, Mammal, Stage (theatre) again, Work of Art, Dogs

Rob: Ooh. I feel like the obvious one is Yael. 

Bell ding-ding-dings!

Lee: That's correct!

Rob: What??

Lee: You're on a roll! You're doing great!

Rob: What? Dogs is what did it there. 

Lee: Alright, next one: Gay News, Video games, Wine, Voice acting, Halloween, Ballet dancer, Mouth

Rob: Is that you, Lee?

Bell ding-ding-dings!

Lee: It is me! That is correct!

Rob: Awesome. 

Lee: Alright so I got two final ones.

Rob: Okay. 

Lee: It's gonna get a little harder now, let's see if you can get it in three clues, instead of seven. 

Rob: Oh my goodness. Okay. 

Lee: Here are your three: Astrology, Cats, Contemporary Dance

Rob: Oh my god, isn't that every Neo?

They both laugh. 

Lee: You're not wrong. 

Rob: Léah.

Fun sad sound of incorrect guess. 

Lee: Katie Chelena. 

Rob: I should have gone with Chelena. I thought it was, ehh, I second guessed myself. Woof. 

Lee: Alright here we go. Tattoos, Dogs, Star Wars

Rob: Uh-huh. Tattoos, dogs, Star Wars… Anooj. 

Fun sad sound of incorrect guess. 

Lee: That's incorrect! It was technical collaborator Hadley Todoran. 

Rob: Jesus. 

Lee: What do you think? Would you say you’re better at listening to people than Instagram?

Rob: No. I think if Instagram is out there listening, it's better than I am, because there are times when I am sleeping and Instagram isn't. 

Lee: I know that I personally feel more heard and seen by you, Rob, than Instagram. 

Rob: Oh, thanks. 

Lee: I’m really glad you’re our Artistic Director right now.

Rob: Thank you! 

Lee laughs. Music fades out. 

Play 4: 7 Clever Uses for Discard (11:31)

Marta: 7 Clever Uses for Discard. GO!

Gentle music underscore

Marta: 1. The day before Easter, I was walking by the murky aqueduct behind our place. A wild turkey emerged from a clump of invasive vine and strutted onto the path ahead of me. Wrong holiday, ya turkey! I whispered. But I followed him for a while anyway, sort of sneakily. When I sped up, the turkey did, too, and he disappeared up an embankment. I felt like Gene Hackman, but I couldn’t remember why. I saw no bunnies that day.

2. I started to bake bread in Richmond, in that cheap and chipped aluminum pot that I bought at the Mini-Mart in Sunset Park. I was about to get engaged, Virginia was about to go blue for Obama, I had forgotten how to make friends, and my flip phone’s service was often shut off by Verizon for belated payment. I would walk from my weekly babysitting gig near Maymont to Kroger in Carytown and pick up eggs, bananas, and flour and yeast with the cash. One of the loaves came out looking exactly like a baby’s tushy. And this is why old friends are important: when I emailed them all a picture of it they all hastened to agree. It’s a tush. Eat it, with olive oil. 

3. The handwritten recipe for my mini-pizzas, mailed from New York, lived under a magnet yellowing on my Babcia’s mini-fridge for more than a decade. She had to trust it as indicative of my kitchen capability, because I never cooked them for her, I just wanted her to know that I could. Flour was different in Poland. Tomato sauce was different.  Cheese was different - (yellow or white). Pots and measurements and how you turned on stoves were all unnervingly slightly different - if you’re a control-freak people pleaser like me. Cooking in other people’s kitchens stresses me out. Once, when visiting, I tried to make her a smoothie with market fruit, shelf-stable milk and her immersion blender. I didn’t even have the words to tell her in her language what I was attempting - I just wanted her to be half an hour in the future, after I’d thrown out the strawberry greens and wiped the oilskin tablecloth down and wiped the rim of the cup and presented it to her. I wanted her to drink it and to understand my intent, which was love through effort. She had lived through unthinkable horrors and still carried herself regally, and I wanted to understand that source of dignity, I still do. Drinking cold blended fruit didn’t make any sense to her. In the end, she wordlessly poured my smoothie over her pancakes like syrup, and I let her. From her kitchen, I have a tin trivet, and it is one of the things I would aim to save if my house was on fire today.

4. Crackers! With rosemary.

5. I think my pandemic sourdough starter died because I forgot to name it. But I also think naming it would make it harder to use, emotionally. It should be said: it is my only pet. My friend raised pigs and named them Pork and Chop, so that everyone could be prepared for the slaughter. I do still eat meat. I am wondering if I am still in control of when my last meal with meat will be.

6. If I remember to, I throw my vegetable scraps into a plastic bag in the freezer. Once I have accumulated enough to pull the bag out and say “what the hell is this?” it’s a signal that I should dump its contents into a pot with water, salt and an onion and boil it to make a stock. Which I freeze, and then pull out of the freezer and say “what the hell is this?” and that's a reminder that I should throw some beans into it or something and make a stew. And once I’ve eaten a bowl of that burbling pot of stew, I usually thank Mother Earth for her bounty, which includes my ingenuity, and I thank the contents of the magazine subscriptions I read in the bathroom, and then order a pizza. Usually. (But what is usual is transforming.)

7. My husband and I briefly tried keto last year and there was this recipe for almond flour cream cheese pancakes and I made them and guys, they were so yummy. And here’s a hard-earned thing I now know about myself: I am a waffle-maker. I suck at pancakes, but even I could not fail with this recipe...until his mother came to visit. I wanted to impress her, so I gathered myself to make those pancakes again, but this time things went completely awry. I set all the fire alarms in the apartment off and I had to run off to teach class! And I just left everything a huge blaring raw mess. Which was not the intended effect. It's funny how staying safe can feel so jarring sometimes. The first day I was to teach remotely this Spring, my husband and I were jolted out of bed just before 6am by those same fire alarms. This time: no pancakes. This was unprompted. And Unceasing. Why? A maintenance worker finally had to come and replace them, after many email exchanges verifying lack of fevers on both sides, and that is the last person that has been a guest in our house in 2020. I don’t know his name. I could offer him nothing but my distance.

Music ends on a long note and holds it before fading out. 

Play 5: Jogging while masked while black (17:16)

Kyra: Jogging while masked while black. GO! 

Ambient background noises of Kyra jogging down the street with a mask on.

Kyra: I’m not much of a jogger. At the end of my teen years I marched in a drum & bugle corps, and while I was in the best shape of my life it fucked up my knee royally. These days I prefer low impact workouts like yoga or the elliptical. When I do jog it’s on a gentle treadmill, not hard concrete. But the gyms are closed, and for the purposes of this play I am jogging. 

I’m recording this on Friday, May 8th, at 3:56pm. I’m wearing a mask so I may have to overdub this later. A white woman wrote an article recently about how she shouldn’t have to wear a mask when she runs. How she can’t breathe. Hilarious. 

My mom is a jogger. Well, she calls herself a wogger. A walk-jogger. She does half marathons. She’s trying to do one in every state, and she only has two left–amazing, right? Oregon and Connecticut. When I was a kid she didn’t even like to sweat. 

The other day when we were on the phone she told me that the death of Ahmaud Arbery made her more afraid to go jogging alone in our predominantly white neighborhood. It was the same fear she had in her voice when she told me she was nervous about driving to the hospital in the middle of the night for her job as a doctor after the death of Philando Castile, after Sandra Bland. My mom turned 66 this year. She grew up with church bombings and fire hoses and all these years later she still has to be afraid. 

I lost my breath when I read about Ahmaud. I was standing in my kitchen reading the cold, sterile text some journalist had typed and I nearly fainted. I had to hold onto the side of my refrigerator and take deep breaths. I had to stumble to my window and slump against it and take even deeper breaths. He was younger than my little brother, who likes to go play disc golf at 7 in the morning. He was the same age Trayvon Martin would have been this year. Not too much older than Tamir Rice, who could have gone to college this year. Today is Ahmaud’s birthday. Friday, May 8th. 

Kyra stops jogging and breathes. 

When can we catch our breath. When can we stop running. Happy birthday, Ahmaud.

Audio Crime with Cecil Baldwin (20:53)

Cecil: Audio Crime. GO!

Sound effect of camera zooming in and focusing. 

Cecil: Thirty seconds of crime. In real time. Driving under the influence of cannabis. T-bleep. 

Sound of car radio playing the news or a podcast about climate change, sound of lighter lighting up. Turn signal. Inhale. General ambient noise. Radio fades. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Sound cuts out. 

Cecil: Why did you do it? 

Someone: It's a stupid law. It's an absolutely stupid law. I would much rather have a bunch of New York City drivers stoned than drunk. End of story. 

Sound effect of camera zooming in and focusing. 

Show Outro (22:20)

Upbeat strummy electronic instrumental music plays underneath.

Julia: Thanks for Hitting Play and then listening to Hit Play. If you liked what you heard, subscribe to the show and tell a friend! If you want to support the New York Neo-Futurists in other ways, consider making a donation at nynf.org, or joining our Patreon–Patreon.com/NYNF. Patreon membership gives you access to bonus content like video plays and livestreams. And if this episode gets over 1,000 downloads, we'll order one of our Patreon supporters a pizza on us. We’d really appreciate any support in these difficult times. Contributing to our Patreon helps us continue to pay our artists. 

Take care of yourself, make a sticky note flipbook, and share it with us on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook.

This episode featured work by: Laura Killeen featuring Michaela Farrell and me, Julia Melfi, Anooj Bhandari, Lee LeBreton featuring Rob Neill, Marta Rainer, and Kyra Sims. Our Audio Crime was provided by Cecil Baldwin. Our logo was designed by Shelton Lindsay. And our sound is designed by Anthony Sertel Dean. Hit Play is produced by Anthony Sertel Dean, Léah Miller, and me, Julia Melfi. Take Care!

Music fades out! Snap!