Heavyweight - #9 Milt

Episode Date: September 28, 2017

Last season’s episode, "Gregor," led to an unfortunate event that Jonathan could’ve never predicted. In this pre-season episode, he tries to set things right. Heavyweight’s second season begins October 26th. Credits Heavyweight is hosted and produced by Jonathan Goldstein. This episode was also produced by Kalila Holt. The senior producer is Kaitlin Roberts. Editing by Alex Blumberg and Jorge Just. Special thanks to Emily Condon, Stevie Lane, Wendy Dorr, Kate Parkinson-Morgan, and Jackie Cohen. The show was mixed by Matthew Boll with assistance from Kate Bilinski.  Music by Christine Fellows and John K Samson, with additional music by Y La Bamba, Blue Dot Sessions, Hew Time, and Caspar Babypants. Our theme song is by The Weakerthans courtesy of Epitaph Records, and our ad music is by Haley Shaw. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

I'm just about to go to work. If this is an emergency, because this is the third time you've called me today, everything okay with the baby? Yes, yes. Beautiful baby. Thank you. You know, I take a lot of pride in that. God, he's nine months old now.

Bye-bye. But you know... Bye-bye. Okay, I will respectfully let you go because I don't want to... There's nothing respectful about you, Johnny, because I told you six months ago I don't want to be on your show anymore. No, well, hang on a second. And here you are calling me and I picked up the phone thinking it was about something else, but it's not. You had said to me that you didn't want to be in the introduction to the episodes, right?

What if I were to tell you that this isn't an episode, it's a pre-episode? Oh, God. What's the difference? Well, because it's not going to be a canonical episode. Really, eh? It's an anticipation of the second season. No. And there isn't going to be another episode coming out for an entire month, so it's very pre. John, I don't want to be on the show, period. You're not listening as usual.

The floor is yours. I'm listening. John? Yeah. From Gimlet Media, I'm Jonathan Goldstein, and this is Heavyweight. Today's preseason episode, Melt. You have one new voice message. A voice message from my friend Gregor. Something about my podcast destroying lives must be a bad connection, I think,

because my podcast saves lives. I phoned back to remind Gregor how last season my show repaired his friendship with noted vegan and bald-headed techno musician Moby. In the sense that you forced me into it, like probably one of the top three most awkward afternoons of my life. So it was a little, it was a little awkward in the room, but in the end... No, it wasn't a little awkward. It was incredibly awkward. You're like a nightmare therapist who causes fights. Okay, yes, you felt that way in the moment. I explain how making things right is often preceded by discomfiture. But the main thing was that people were relating to his journey of healing.

In fact, I say, the episode generated a very lively discussion on the website Reddit. Reddit. Wow, I finally made it to Reddit. Soon I'll be on 4chan. When Gregor's done giving me the sass-mouthing of a lifetime, he explains that in the end, the podcast did more harm than good. He tells me that the episode actually destroyed his father's oldest friendship. Destroyed, I ask? Friendship, I ask? The trouble all started, Gregor explains,

when his dad, an 85-year-old man named Milt, sent the episode to his friend Sidney. Sidney hated the podcast so much that he sent Milt a letter, formally ending their 65-year friendship. And that was that. According to Greger, Sidney is a genius and couldn't believe Milt had the audacity to disrespect his intelligence and remaining time on Earth by recommending such a truly terrible podcast. In the time he spent listening to the episode, he could have done something brilliant.

Sidney is a professor, the author of countless academic articles, and according to Gregor, a true literary scholar. A Joyce-ian scholar, isn't James Joyce? As opposed to Joyce DeWitt, who played Janet on Three's Company. Anyway, very, very intellectual guy. Right. He does not suffer fools. He's very much inclined to dress people down,

set them in their place, that kind of thing. I had ample experience with that kind of thing. Case in point, Gregor proceeds to tell me, in painful and gratuitous detail, what Sidney thought of my podcast. Certainly the sound of your voice could make him angry. Among other things, he thought it jejun, middlebrow, and nothing but a load of chit-chat. As with a lot of things that it says, I kind of agree with him. It is just chit-chat. I mean, the podcast was just us talking to each other.

Oh, but I mean, you know, Socratic dialogues. I mean, all that was really was two guys talking, right? Well, I think, yes, that's empirically true. But I mean, if you're a guy who's going to be like, hey, Socrates talked, I talk, I'm Socrates, you know, then I don't think I can get any point through to you at all. Gregor says the letter hit Milt hard. He's lately been taking his meals alone in his office and not speaking much to anyone. It's hard for me to imagine how my show could end a friendship.

Sure, there were podcasts that could. I'm all but positive the TED radio hours destroyed tons, maybe even a few marriages. But not heavyweight. My heavyweight couldn't hurt a fly, and so I want to see proof. I insist Gregor send me a copy of this breakup letter, which he does. I'm going to read, we're going to go through the letter, okay? We're going to parse through the letter, all right? Sure. Okay, here we go. So it starts off where he says, after our exchange... Without so much as a dear Milt,

the letter launches into a list of complaints written in the style of an academic monograph, replete with annotation and appendices. And then in parentheses, see poem about friendship. References to previous correspondence. So he quotes from an email sent 11 years earlier. Yeah, okay, so here it is. And second references to age-old intellectual turf wars.

Not understanding the neurotic elements of the battle about the school superintendent. Okay, so this is a whole other thing. There are numbered sections which contain lettered subsections. Bracketing number C, so he goes back to subsection C. Bar Mitzvah. I had invited you to my grand... And finally, there it is, like Gregor said, the stuff about heavyweight. To quote subsection J. J, you sent me the link to

a radio program Greg was on. I have listened to similar programs when I was driving. Very rarely, if ever, did I stop my reading or writing to listen to what I call chit-chat programs. Seeing that chit-chat thing in black and white was especially piquant. But as we read through the letter, it becomes apparent that this friendship has bigger problems than my podcast. According to Sidney, while he always asks after Milt's family,

Milt never asks after his. And while Sidney attends Milt's family functions, Milt doesn't attend his. And although Sidney takes an interest in Milt's work, to quote Sidney attends Milt's family functions, Milt doesn't attend his. And although Sidney takes an interest in Milt's work, to quote Sidney, When I dedicated a published article to you, I quoted William Carlos Williams' So Much Depends, to which you replied that it reminds you of the adult pads, depends, so much for the dedications. It seems Sidney isn't so much upset about having listened to an episode of my podcast, as he is about having listened to an episode of my podcast starring Milt's son, Gregor.

Because yet again, Sidney was being asked to care about Milt's family in a way that was never reciprocated. Sidney's real problem, it seems, is that he's always asked to look and listen in on Milt's life without being seen and heard himself. to look and listen in on Milt's life without being seen and heard himself. Although the letter reads like a legal deposition, by the end, Gregor and I come to see it as something else,

an outpouring of 60 years' worth of hurt feelings. Their friendship began in 1954, in a rooming house in Iowa, where they both attended college. Together, they considered themselves a couple of outcasts who drove to poetry readings in Milt's Model T. Over late-night bottles of Chivas Regal, Sidney would share his theories with Milt about Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer, and Milt would share his attempts at poetry with Sidney would share his theories with Milt about Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer, and Milt would share his attempts at poetry with Sidney. Almost 70 years later, Milt is now a published poet. But when he finishes a poem, he still sends it to Sidney, whose judgment means more than anyone's.

It never changed. The roles never changed. He was still the guy in his life whose opinion mattered most to him about his writing. He would say, here's a thing I did, and Sid would, didn't just write back like, nice! Smiley face, double exclamation mark. He'd write these kind of like, a very deep analytical kind of read. Sidney remains a kind of big brother to Milt. This at a time when those older than him that he can look up to are dwindling. And now this unique friendship was ending, and the straw that broke the camel's back

was my stupid podcast. I mean, well, you see, okay, I mean, obviously you see the irony in this whole situation, right? After waiting a good long while, it was clear that Gregor did not see the irony in this whole situation. I mean, I have a show. It's raison d'etre is to unite people.

And because of my show, two men in their late 80s who have been friends for the past 60-odd years had a falling out. I mean, the end of Sid's letter to my dad said, go shove off. It wasn't a falling out. It was, this is the end. I'll never speak to you again. And as far as you having a radio show that brings together, I always thought you're a disputatious character. I think my track record speaks for itself. Your track record? You're getting into like a tussle with a raccoon on the way to the liquor store. You're never going to have any success with anything. No, no. I don't mean to discourage you. Do you think that, you know, maybe I could do something to help?

Okay, here we go. Here we go. Because, like, helping old men like this is sort of what I do. Every one of your ideas is worse than the previous one, and you're building the terrible idea pyramid. Well, you want to try calling your dad. We're almost to the top.

Let's call him together. And now we're at the top. Like all Jewish men of a certain age, Milt probably hasn't answered a telephone in close to 50 years. As expected, Gregor's mom picks up. My grandchild, Greg's son, said when he heard about this, he said, when a person is older, he needs more friends, not less. That's nicely put. The relationship a person has with a friend is so intense and deep. A friendship, a buddy, wow. Yeah.

Okay, here you go. Hello, Guyor. Hello, Father Bear. Hi, Milton. I have Johnny on the phone here. Jonathan, how are you? Good, how are you, Milton? I'm good, thanks. Let me just shut my music off here.

Okay, sure. Milt shushes down what sounds like a Gnarland's Dixieland jamboree marching through his den, and I ask if there's a way in which perhaps Gregor and I could help make peace between himself and his friend. Are you talking about Sidney? Yeah. I mean, he's very brilliant. You know, he's written at least two, three hundred articles. He's a walking encyclopedia about literature.

Nobody knows more than he does, but he's more trouble than he's worth. I don't think you realize how crazy he is and difficult to negotiate with. I try to explain how there's nothing really that crazy about Sidney at all. Really, all he wants is more give and take in their friendship. But Milt is too dejected to hear me. I think he's broken up with me. I think he doesn't want to have anything to do with me now from the letter he sent. I think it's over. Forget about Sydney. All right. I'm going to fix this, Dad. Don't you worry. I'm going to fix this for you. I don't want to fix this.

All right. If you've given don't want to fix it. All right. If you've given up, you've given up. You're just listening to the Dalai Lama on John Oliver. Hey. Yeah. Tell him to watch. Yeah. He knows about it.

We don't know. All right. Mom peels with laughter at John Oliver. Dalai Lama did an impression of Trump. I can't understand a word. I'll talk to you later. Okay. Gregor?

Yes, sir. Okay, so you heard your father. That's it. I thought your mission on heavyweight was to resolve conflict. My father's just feeling hurt. I've got to massage him a little bit. As far as I'm concerned, end of Act 1. And what better way to enjoy the end of Act 1

but with a message from our sponsors. How was I going to fix this 60-year-long friendship? Sidney's letter was an emotional plea that begged for an emotional response. But according to Gregor, his dad Milt just isn't that kind of touchy-feely guy. He's not a card giver, a bar mitzvah goer. Milt didn't even bother attending Gregor's graduation, saying he didn't get all the hoopla. In fact, the only time Gregor catches a glimpse of his dad's emotional side is when he's sharing his poetry.

He'd be doing public readings of his poems at various events that I'd go to. Yeah. And I'd say in ten of those, in four of them, he'd break down crying and someone, sometimes me, would have to step in and read his poem. And then I started to realize that he was using poetry as a conduit or as an excuse to open the faucets in his emotional core to be emotionally expressive. Sometimes, expressive to a degree that makes Gregor uncomfortable. He'll send me a poem written about my mother to me. You know, it's not exactly erotic poetry, but it's not exactly not erotic poetry.

What do you mean? Like, give me an example. You know, it's like, I wake to the yawning cavern of your body, and I'm like, okay, I have to stop reading. Milt's written about his wife, his kids, and his grandkids. It made Gregor wonder, had Milt ever written a poem for Sidney? We phone Milt back and ask. Not that I'm aware of. But you wrote 7,000 poems. You never wrote a poem about Sidney?

No. But the question must have planted a seed in Milt's mind. A few days later, I receive a phone call from Gregor. His dad had sat down and written a poem, especially for and dedicated to Sydney. I'm so excited, I can't even wait to finish my cream cheese and jelly sandwich before conferencing us all back together. Hi, Milt.

How are you? Good,ilt. How are you? Good, good. How are you doing? I'm fine, thank you. So I hear that you wrote a poem Gregor was saying about Sid? Yes. Normally, Milt mails his poems to Sidney to get his feedback. In recent years, emails them. But I ask if with this personal one,

he'd be up for phoning Sidney and reading it to him directly. In this way, Milt would be making himself vulnerable with a grand gesture. I was imagining something along the lines of that scene in Say Anything, where the shiftless half-wit kickboxer holds a boombox over his head. But instead of a boombox, it'd be a telephone. And instead of a young couple, it'd be two very old men. After a long pause, Milt says, I could do that. But then, after an even longer pause, he begins to equivocate. He's extremely critical, and, you know, he also wrote an introduction to one of my books

that was pretty insulting about, I write poetry like I'm going to a garage sale or something. Why would you publish in your own book of poetry an introduction in which someone is insulting your works? I don't know. Once again, Milt was presenting his work at the feet of the master. But this time, it wasn't just for critique. It was to make amends and win back his oldest friend. And that was scarier.

Why don't I connect you guys? Yeah. Gregor, so we're not going to speak, right? I think we stay out of it. I don't see how we could possibly do any good. Yeah, well, because normally you know I like to interlocute, right? No, you're an interlocutor. Call him up. Let's see if he's home and if this whole ship is going to run right into the iceberg or what's going to happen. I'm going to get him on the phone.

Okay. Okay, here we go. Calling him up. Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?

Yes. Who is this? This is Milton Ehrlich. How are you? Who is this? Milton Ehrlich. Milton Ehrlich. How are you?

Okay. Great to hear from you. Okay, thank you. Hold on, hold on. Okay, thank you. Hold on, hold on. Okay, thank you. No problem. All right, thanks. Hi, Milt. What a surprise.

How are you? Okay, okay. Go ahead. Yeah, I'm okay. But the reason I'm calling is Greg's friend, Jonathan Goldstein, he wants me to read a poem I wrote to you. He's on the phone right now, I believe. Jonathan, are you there?

Yes, hi. Hi, it's a group call. That's interesting. Yeah. Not only had Milt immediately forgotten our game plan, but he'd also yanked down the curtain to reveal Lurking in the Wings, Sidney's least favorite podcast host. But fortunately, before Sidney could start critiquing my work, Milt begins. Comment or interrupt any time you want.

The poem is called The Iconoclast. And I wrote it in homage to Sidney F. Okay. Words flow out of their mouths like tropical birds. Shivas Regal on the rocks. Fellow thinkers and fellow feelers struggle like sweating sumo wrestlers with a question. How do I live the right life? In impassioned all-night arguments, delight in the

tropics of Henry Miller and the naked honesty of Molly Bloom's soliloquy, utopianists, rebel outsiders longing for communion and community. The end. screens, howl for coffee or coke, waiting for long Sunday afternoons, a transformation where killing stops and the dazzling spectrum of consciousness allows one to become more fully human. As slender fingers of the sun seep into their chamber, they solemnly tread home, knowing the struggle to awaken a moribund culture

has only begun. That's the poem. I'm not quite sure. I mean, it's the kind of poem that has so many references to my life. Until now, he thought nobody noticed. If it weren't so long, I'd have it on my tombstone, you know?

Do you feel touched hearing this poem? Oh, of course I do. Of course I feel touched by it. I mean, it's not simply a poem that was delivered. The vehicle is Milt Ehrlich. I mean, he brought it to me. And that carries a thousand years of conversations and walks and talks and things like that. So hearing Milt's voice delivering this poem, poem, the weight is a serious weight.

It's a major weight. And that's terribly important to me. Well, thank you for helping to make me a better poet. You know, we're at a new phase. A new phase. New phase. Okay? Okay.

There was no reference to the letter, nor to their not speaking. In other words, not a lot of chit-chat. But by the end of the call, things felt back to normal. So much so that, just as we're all about to get off the phone, Sidney says, as he always does, Say hello to the family, Milt. Say hello. To which Milt says, as he always does,

Say hello to who? Nothing much of anything. But today, Sidney doesn't seem too bothered by it. Bye-bye. Bye-bye. Okay, thanks. Bye-bye. Okay. Bye-bye.

Bye-bye. I ask Milt how he feels the whole thing went, and he says, better than he expected, that sometimes a person just has to take one for the team, for the greater good of the friendship. You know, one of the essential things about friendship, and I've written several poems about it I can send to you, that there's always one partner in a friendship

that values it more and wants it to work more. It's like in marriage. There's always one part of the marriage that loves the other person more. And because they love the other person more, they can tolerate being loved less. It's the same thing in friendship. Although I don't ask him outright, I get the feeling Milt is saying that, in his friendship with Sidney, he's that guy, the one who's loving more and trying harder. But I'm also sure that Sidney, at that very moment across town, is thinking some version of the same thought.

And maybe in all friendships, if you ask who's getting the raw end of the deal, friendships, if you ask, who's getting the raw end of the deal? The answer is inevitably, I am. But if the friendship has a fighting chance of lasting more than 60 years, that answer will also contain some version of, but it's worth it. Before we get off the phone, Milt has a question for me. The last thing he said, give my regards to who? Did you hear? Oh, he said to give regards to your family.

Oh, family. I couldn't hear what I was saying. Yeah. You might want to email him to just say to give regards to his family. He might be sensitive. What would this friendship do without me? Okay, thank you, Jonathan. Okay, take it easy. Sure, bye. Bye-bye. Hey, Gregor?

You still there? Yeah. I'll be the first to admit it. I didn't think it would go as well as that went. I have to say, do you see any parallels in your dad and Sid's relationship and our relationship? I mean, I think Sid's a genius and I'm a genius. I'll take that. Let me ask you a question.

Did you know that I recently had a baby? I think you mentioned that. Do you know his name? What, are you deposing me? You've never listened to an episode of Heavyweight. I don't like those earbuds in my ears. They hurt my ears. Do you think we're going to end up being friends, like, for the next, like, 60 years?

You'd be 115. Can you imagine you at 115? You're already, like, you're 115. Now that the furniture's returning to its goodwill home Now that the last month's rent is scheming with the damage deposit Take this moment to decide If we meant it, if we tried Or felt around for far too much

From things that accidentally touched Heavyweight is hosted and produced by me, Jonathan Goldstein, along with Kalila Holt. The senior producer is Caitlin Roberts, editing by Alex Bloomberg and Jorge Just. Special thanks to Emily Condon, Stevie Lane, Wendy Dorr, Kate Parkinson-Morgan, and Jackie Cohen. The show was mixed by Matthew Boll,

with assistance from Kate Balinski. Music by Christine Fellows and John K. Sampson. Additional music credits for this episode can be found on our website, Our theme song is by The Weaker Thans, courtesy of Epitaph Records, and our ad music is by Haley Shaw. Follow us on Twitter at Heavyweight, or email us at heavyweight at gimletmedia.com. Our season begins on October 26th. You better get yourself a new pair of headphones, my friend,

because there's a lot of great stuff coming your way in Season 2. Are you threatening me? You know, I'm working on some stories, and some of them take place in Canada. You're working on stories that take place in Canada? I'm not going to go change my underpants. I don't like when you say that. And you know my friend Jackie? She's coming back, I think.

How do I know your friend Jackie? You've met her several times. Name doesn't ring a bell.