My memory is shot.  I’ve told you many times, even based an album on it.  I typically do a year end Best-Of list like everyone else in the universe, but not this year.  I can’t remember anything from last year unless I go back through my calendar and shut my eyes and concentrate.  And that’s a dangerous journey because I might recall something that’s better left forgotten.  This year I’m trying something different.  Here is my best of 2012 list, so far.  How much can someone experience in 10 days?  Surprisingly, a lot.

TV

• Angry boys.  When I heard Chris Lilley, the star and creator of the brilliant show (I don’t use that word lightly) Summer Heights High was coming back to HBO with a new show, I immediately set my DVR.  Only two episodes in and I’m in heaven.  The second coming of Sascha Baron Cohen.
• The Bachelor.  That’s right, I said it.  I love this fucking show and so does Howard Stern, whatever that means.  There is no irony in this pick.  I just straight-up love it.  It’s so horribly wrong and yet feels so right.
• House Hunters.  Against my will, the TV in my living room is often tuned to HGTV and this show has grown on me over time.  I had no idea I was interested in homes.  But it’s more than that, it’s about the people buying them, the locales (both exotic and common) and the dreams of a future life that it inspires. 

Music

• Gotye, “Somebody That I Used To Know.”  I can’t remember the last time I felt compelled to stay in my car to hear the end of a song.  I was listening to satellite radio and this song hit the chorus and I couldn’t get out of my car.  I had never heard of the artist and thought for a minute I was onto something new.  Then I went inside and saw that the video for the song had 33 million hits.  It’s almost viral!  (If you don’t get that last joke, check out my miniseries “Making A Hit Video.”)  Turns out I’m the last to know.  Often, I’m dumbfounded by what makes a song/artist/album explode, but I get why people are attracted to this song.  It has all the right elements, not the least of which is a catchy, emotive, unaffected vocal delivery, something sadly lacking in “popular” music. 
• Ted Hawkins, Watch Your Step.  I guess you’d call Ted Hawkins a folk blues artist.  That’s not the kind of thing I’m typically into.  I don’t get off on the soulful musings of artists like Ray LaMontagne.  I recognize something there, but it doesn’t speak to me.  But Ted Hawkins is (was) the real thing.  He died over 15 years ago.  The first song I heard was “The Lost Ones” and I felt the pain so viscerally, I felt a lump in my throat.  I researched him and found out he was basically a street performer from Venice Beach who achieved some success in Britain but not much in the States.  Though, he did receive a rare 5 stars from Rolling Stone for Watch Your Step.  I love the nakedness, the sound, the spirit, the sadness, and the directness of the lyrics.  I wish I wrote “Sorry You’re Sick,” but I recognize that I never could because I never had that sort of existence.  My problems, though they seem serious to me, pale in comparison to those communicated in Hawkins’ music.  But I feel it just as much.  I hear a real human being in there.
• M83, “Midnight City.”  From the Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming album.  It’s a double-album, so it’s taking me time to get through.  But this is the track that hooked me.  
• Sleigh Bells, “Born To Lose.”  This band continues to amaze me.  I wonder how far they can take this bombastic sound before it grows tiresome.

BOOKS

• Publish This Book, by Stephen Markley.  A gift, and I’m so appreciative.  But this is not a great book (in my humble opinion, sorry Sara, I can’t lie!).  Still, it has to be on my list because I’ve only read one book so far this year, it’s only been 10 days.  I appreciate the attempt by Markley.  It’s meta: the whole book is about trying to get the very book you’re reading published.  The book is about the book.  But it wanders and I found myself doing something I honestly never do—skip ahead.  And it didn’t matter that I skipped over huge chunks, which proves my point.  I didn’t miss anything that prevented me from understanding the next chapter (though let me say I only skipped over a few Love Interest scenes).  I did laugh at times, which means Markley partially succeeded, but I found myself agreeing with his professor’s suggestion that he pull back on the shit and sex jokes.  I’m all for that stuff but at a certain point it inhibits you from getting closer to the real human being in there.  Disclaimer: I’ve still got a hundred pages left, so if this chaos finds a purposeful balance, I’m going to feel like a real dickhead for pre-judging.  My preemptive apologies, because I hate when people do that to me.  That said, it’s nearly 500 pages long so he’s had enough time to convince me.
• Pearl Jam Twenty.   I’ve been skimming this.  It’s not a book you have to read in a straight line.  It was a holiday regift from a fellow enthusiast of the band. Although I still buy Pearl Jam albums the day they come out, I haven’t been a fervent fan for some years now.  My respect for their business practices and the way they protect their art and fans is through the roof, but my heart strings rarely get pulled by the music anymore.  Still, the book is an enjoyable trip down memory lane and so was the accompanying film which I saw on a Saturday morning in an empty theatre in New York City last September (I remember that clearly!).
• Wild Abandon, by Joe Dunthorne.  This is a cheat.  I haven’t read it yet, but it’s next on my list.  It’s Dunthorne’s followup to his debut novel, Submarine, which has since been made a film (That book showed up on my 2008 list.  Do I know how to pick them or what?  I told you.)

FILMS

• Tiny Furniture.  I met Lena Dunham, the film’s writer/director, before I ever saw her film.  I auditioned for her new HBO show, Girls.  No, I didn’t get the part.  I knew about her film and had planned to see it when it came out in 2010 but never did.  It’s now streaming on Netflix, which is where I saw it.  Such an impressive debut by a person still in her twenties.  Then I found out both her parents were artists.  My parents were in education and business.  Maybe that’s why I suck.
• Bill Cunningham New York.  This film sneaks up on you.  At first you feel like you’re just watching a documentary about another eccentric, but by the end you’re holding back the tears.  Cunningham, photographer for the New York Times, is more than fascinating.  He is a man lost in time and I will miss him when he is gone.  (Also streaming on Netflix, by the way).
• The Descendants.  Saw it in the theatre and loved it.  A hardfought balance of sadness and joy.  I can’t recall Clooney acting any better.  Turns out Hawaii is not only a nice place to visit in real life but on the big screen too.  And if the woman/man/creature a few rows back wasn’t munching on her popcorn so loudly then I would have loved it even more.  This is why I only see movies during the day on weekdays.  The less people the better.  
• Tree of Life, Moneyball, The Artist, My Week With Marilyn, Beginners, The Iron Lady and more.  As a member of SAG, I get to see lots of free movies.  These are all on deck.  By the end of the year, I will have forgotten about all of them.

Biggest Surprise

Waking up without a hangover on New Year’s Day after a wicked combo of wine, beer, champagne, tequila and a bowl.

What else happened..

• My sister visited from Florida.
• Best Indian food I ever had at Devi in New York.
• Watched yet another cop run a stop sign, not even slowing down a bit.  I want one to hit me.
• Had two band rehearsals during which we practiced a song we’ve never played live before (Hint: Mercury Lounge on Jan 13th).

That’s it.  My mind is exploding.  If this much happened in just ten days, how can I be expected to remember what happens over the course of 365 of them?  I can’t and I won’t.  Good thing I wrote this down.