Wiretap - The Hail Mary Pass

Episode Date: September 21, 2020

A man tries to win back his wife by buying her an iPhone, Howard tries to finally be cool by becoming a middle-aged hipster, and a couple makes a desperate attempt to have a child.

We're in the midst of the dog days of summer. And it's called that because during this period, Sirius, the dog star, rises with the sun in the morning. Not because it feels like several dogs are breathing their humid breath on you all the time. Can you tell he's a cat person? Hello, I'm Neil Kerkstel. And I'm Chris Houghton. We're the co-hosts of As It Happens.

But throughout the summer, some of our wonderful colleagues will be hosting in our place. We will still be bringing you conversations with people at the center of the day's major news stories here in Canada and throughout the world. You can listen to As It Happens wherever you get your podcasts. This is a CBC podcast. I'm Jonathan Goldstein and you're listening to Wiretap on CBC Radio 1. Today's episode, The Hail Mary Pass. In December 1975, the Dallas Cowboys were facing the Minnesota

of Vikings in an NFL playoff game. Trailing by four points and with only 32 seconds left in the game, quarterback Roger Stobach made a desperate pass to his teammate Drew Pearson at the five-yard line. Stobach was immediately tackled and plowed into the ground, but when he looked up a few moments later, he learned that Pearson had against all odds, caught the pass, made a touchdown, and sealed the Cowboys victory. When later asked about the game-winning play, Staubach said, I closed my eyes and said a Hail Mary. Over the years, the term Hail Mary pass has come to signify any effort made in desperation.

A hopeless action taken when the odds against success are incredibly great. Even when it looks like all is lost, we can't help but keep trying. Are we hardwired to never give up? Is this simple Darwinism? Millions of sperms heading towards the womb, each one figuring they don't have a chance, but maybe also thinking, why not give it a shot? Does hope play into it?

Are we such hopeful creatures that no matter how absurd a lot of long shot, we hold in our hearts a tiny balloon of maybe. Maybe we'll be the one to win the lotto, the one to find the perfect parking space, the one to stumble into true love. Maybe we'll be the one, though well into middle age, who might still be able to change something very basic about ourselves. Point in fact, I recently purchased a full-length mirror, the first I've ever owned. I decided to take the plunge after leaving the house one too many times, wearing a brooch of crusted applesauce, my shirt misbuttoned, pants unzipped. It was time I made a last-ditch effort to start paying attention to my appearance. It wasn't like I never caught an occasional

glimpse of myself, a sad eye in the rearview mirror while changing lanes, a stooped gate in the reflective glass of a storefront window. I just never sought it out. But since mounting the mirror on my bedroom wall, I am, for the first time, consciously seeking out my own image, and it has made my life unbearable. Until the mirror, I lived for the most part as though I were a floating head, magically transported from kitchen to couch and back again. It was a self-delusion, of course, but of a kind not so different than telling myself I enjoyed saki, jazz,

and getting together with old friends. In other words, it was a self-delusion that served me well. I don't like thinking about my body as the thing. The goo coursing through it, the goo leaking out. For all I know of what goes on, of my chin, I could be a sadder, head of a human, body of a goat. This would explain all the trouble I have finding shoes that fit, as well as a lifetime distaste for goat curry. And yet, my body and I have always maintained cordial relations, until now. The last half hour has been spent

staring at myself in disbelief, hair in impossible places, lumpy here, loose things, there, legs that look like furry cigarettes, and thighs that, were they those of a chicken, would have little hope of ever being bought and rotissaried. Even my nipples seem off. Can one have cock-eyed ariolas? I've always believed that if cryogenics were to ever prove scientifically viable, and I cannot afford to go the full Walt Disney, I'd be quite content as a floating head in a jar. I'd meet a female head. settle down and raise some nice little pickled heads of our own. There would be no abs to get flabby, no glutes to sag.

Worse that could happen is I develop a bit of a turkey neck, a problem easily solvable with a colorful cravat. I suppose I prefer to use my God-given self-awareness for wondering if the last thing I just said made me sound stupid rather than using it to ponder whether the jeans I just bought make my ass look fat. And so, I get dressed, remove the mirror from the wall, and place it in the back of my closet. While leaning it up in there, I catch a glimpse of myself and think,

leaning a mirror in the back of a closet while feeling self-righteous isn't a bad look for me. And then I shut the door, invisible once more, to the one person for whom my invisibility matters most. Hello. You're familiar with Zen cones. They pronounce cone like ice cream cone. It's Cohen. But there's Stan Cohen of the Coney Island Cones. He was a furry. He did very well. Okay, but you do know what a Zen koan is, right?

I have more than a glancing familiarity with the way of no way, otherwise known as the Wu way. What can I do for you? Okay, well, I've been thinking about this one koan and how it relates to the show I'm working on this week, which is all about Hail Mary Passes, and I wanted to call up a few people to see what they would make of it. All right. Okay, so here it is. A great Japanese warrior is about to go into battle with his army, and his army. and his army is like one-tenth the size of his enemies.

Even so, he's pretty sure he can win, but his soldiers are scared. So to convince them, he tosses a coin. He tells them that destiny holds the coin, and so if it's heads, they'll definitely win the battle. So he tosses the coin up in the air, and lo and behold, it's facing heads. So then seeing this, the soldiers get so charged up, they rush into battle, and they win easily. Afterwards, one of his generals comes up to him and says,

no one can change the hand of destiny, to which the great warrior replies, indeed not. And then he opens up his hand and reveals to him a coin that has heads on both sides. I don't know who sold you that, because that's not a co-an. That's a Zen, that's a Zen coin. No, it's not. Zen coins are like this.

Why is the cat in the yard, master? I don't know. Why is it in the yard? And then I take off my bamboo sandal. and I slap you on the side of the head, and you attain full enlightenment in that moment. Or I say, don't confuse the map with the road, and I point to the moon, and then I slap you on the back of the head with my sandal. Why do all of your lessons involve physical abuse?

Because that's how co-hands work. What is the sound of one-hand clapping? What was your face before your grandparents were born? All these questions with no answers, because I'm trying to break you out of the cage of rational mind. You've got a defective co-in, my friend. Okay, let's call it a parable. Okay.

Got no problem with that. Okay, so what do you think this parable is trying to, to say about the value of attempting something that appears futile. I've often observed in my own life with people who are successful that they exude a certain stupidity. Stupidity. And I think it's a very particular kind of stupidity, which is the inability to see how weak and stupid and terrible they are at what they're doing. And therefore they succeed because they're not considering the likelihood of their failure. I think most confidence is false confidence, right?

because no one knows the outcome of anything ever. You say you're going to go there and you're going to win this fight. Don't worry. You train better, you're stronger and faster. If the Rocky movies have taught us anything, it's that sometimes the underdog surprises you by winning. So I would say all optimism is a form of delusion. I kind of believe that if you don't know failure,

If you don't know what you can't do, then you're going to succeed. If these guys in battle, if they got killed, even after the coin, they went and known they lost. Because they'd be dead? They'd be dead. So either they win the battle or they go out in the blaze of thinking they're going to win. If not glory, at least, at least illusion. Yes, yes. So, I mean, I envy delusional people.

I have this friend of mine. He'll say, you know, I've spent my last 80 bucks on lottery tickets because I feel I have to take a shot. And I envy these people, you know, because you need delusion to keep yourself alive, I think. You need that hope. And the good thing about hope is, even if it's an idea that doesn't pan out,

if it gets you by, it's like a shot of, like, Like, what are those energy drinks? Like, I'll give you an example. I had bumped into Keenan Ivory Wains, a guy I knew from stand-up. You know who he is, right? He did scary movies and living color. Yeah, yeah, producer, comedian, actor. Yeah, and I bumped to him at the bookstore,

and some guy comes up to him and almost like shaking, trembling. Mr. Wains, I'm a fan of yours. I have this idea for a show. I don't know what it was, but some alternate universe. It made no sense. but he had his little proposal he carries with him and Keenan goes

well I don't know if I do that kind of genre says please please read it and King goes okay okay and the guy walks away and Keenan goes I feel sorry for this guy thinking I can help him

and that's when I thought no no no even if it's not anything that's going to happen in that moment when the guy was giving him his little package he had hope

in that moment he felt alive he'll go home tell his girlfriend or roommate i my thing has a shot now so hope is an interesting thing where even like i said if it doesn't pan out in that moment you feel activated and at least it keeps you moving ahead and not napping all day so i think we're all doing hell marries just hoping that oh something can happen that's going to be better If a person feels confident, they could do much more. They can do better. Dad, what do you make of the parable?

You can manipulate destiny. We're doing a show this week about a Hail Mary passes. Yeah. Have you ever heard of that expression? Yeah, I heard, of course. Do you have you, Mom? No. You lift your arm up into the air.

Yeah, a Hail Mary, I don't know. A Hail Mary pass. I've heard of it, but I don't know what it is. It's like a last-ditch effort when you got no real hope, but you just throw the ball. Right. Nope, never heard of it. Can I tell you a little stupid story? It's a really stupid story.

It may have been a Hail Mary Piss. It comes right to my mind. Sure. I had a toy spitz or a Pomeranian. Mm-hmm. And there was a woman who had a dog. She wanted this dog, her dog, that she loved so much, have puppies, and she wanted my dog as a, what do you call it, a stud.

a stud. Right. So he did it. We stuttered them. And the dog became pregnant. Unfortunately, her dog died in giving birth. She was beside herself. I said, you know what? Why did you call the hospital and find out? Maybe the puppy survived. Sure enough, she called the hospital. The puppy survived. She never could thank me enough. I guess what I'm curious about out of this story is, Mom, how do you feel about dad lending out his stud services? It wasn't my stud services. It was my dog's... Same difference. How's it the same difference?

Get the funny ideas. Why? You talk to me as if we're married now and I'm studying something. Okay. We're talking about a dog. Doesn't make a difference whether it's a dog or you. What does that mean? How is it the same thing? So is your character and I don't like it. This person was paying me money to stud my dog.

Okay, but I turn it down. What are you, jiggle-o? Taking money. Yeah, a dog jiggling. So we finally found a podcast that speaks to you, pure bliss. It's so good that when you finish the final episode, it leaves a hole in your heart and your schedule. What now? Personally is here for you. It's a collection of true stories that explore what it means to be, well, human. The best part, there are six incredible seasons to dive into, with more on the way. Personally, get lost in someone else's life. Available now, wherever you personally get your podcasts. As he lay dying, and his mind raced, and all the world felt like an electric joy buzzer, and his chest felt squashed by the bootheel of a malevolent lord, he reached out to his wife.

The ambulance is coming, she said. Her voice was full of panic. She was usually so cool. She loved him. I love you, he managed to stammer. She was spread out on the kitchen floor beside him, holding his hand. Don't speak, she said. He pointed to his shirt and she unbuttoned the collar.

Then he pointed to his pants. Quick, he said, his voice trembling, before the ambulance. They'd met in college, in a film studies class. In the dark, as she watched Ingmar Bergman's seventh seal, he watched her face. She had blonde dreadlocks back then, and for years afterwards he teased her about them. They dated on and off through college, fighting frequently and passionately. And then they moved in together, and the turbulence subsided. a year of peace, they married. When can we expect a little one, his parents asked.

We're storing up our strength to make a big one, he'd joke. Wait until you see what's coming down the pike. The truth was, they were putting it off. When my book is done, he said. When the gallery is open, she said. When I have a steady source of income, he said. When I make a name for myself, said. They'd been meaning to get around to it, but they never did. And now he was dying, splayed on the kitchen floor, an elephant seated on his chest, sipping tea, doing a crossword. His eyes were imploring, pointing to his pants zipper. He couldn't possibly, she thought. Right now? Make love to me, he gurgled.

It was the kind of thing he'd say sometimes to make her laugh. Walking into their apartment, home from work, he'd throw his knapsack down, throw off his jacket, and roar, make love to me. But now it was barely a murmur, and there were tears in his eyes, and his face was red. We can't, she said soberly. Just try to relax. But we must, he said.

He was not the type to use phrases like, we must. More of a whining, aw, come on, kind of guy. But dying changed a man. He was desperate. Are you sure, she asked? He sputtered. It was all he could manage. But he aided in the meaning of his grunts by flapping his hand.

at his belt buckle. It was his last chance. It was their last chance. And so, with tenderness and great care not to kill him, she obliged. She named her daughter Roger after the strapping paramedic, who, after not knocking and knocking, chopped through the door with an axe, and found them lying half-naked on the floor, and stoically averted his gaze long enough for her to wrap herself in the tablecloth yanked from the kitchen table. As Roger grew older, she would ask why she was given a man's name. We named you after a dear friend, was all her mother would say, and her father, gazing at his daughter with love, nodded in agreement.

About two months ago, outside an apple store in Bristol, England, a man named Darius Lodarski stood waiting for the new iPhone. Normally, it should be a great day, but it's not so great for me today, even if I got an iPhone sticks. Speaking to a reporter covering the iPhone's launch, Darius explained that he'd been waiting outside the store for almost two days. The phone, he said, wasn't for himself, but for his wife. After 20 years of marriage, she was kicking him out, and he hoped the phone might change her mind, make her see that he still loved her. It was a last-ditch effort to save their

relationship. I did so many things wrong, he said. I want to say sorry to my wife and daughter. Because I wasn't the best husband and father. You blow it over and over. You fail the people you love most, the people you should be doing the best for. And how do you make it up to them when you know you can't. You blare a romantic tune from a boombox raised high over your head. You climb a mountain. You write a sonnet. Or you stand in line for a phone. When there's nothing left to do, you do the only thing you can do, which is to hope that the doing itself might be enough. craziest thing I ever did for love I biked 85 miles in the rain to try and win her back

I stood on a street corner for about three hours with a sign begging for money to buy her roses I rolled naked down a hill at the Alberta legislature I started smoking I joined a jazz orchestra I ate a hot pepper at the size of my fist I just owned my family I drove all night to meet his boat and tell him once and for all that it was over.

Instead, we talked until sunrise and have been together for 20 years since. What's up, dude? Oh, hey, Howard. How are you doing? Just chilling. What's up with you? Nothing. Nothing goes. Yeah. That's totally true. deck. Uh-huh.

I'm just sipping on a nice coffee. Oop, who got a little bit of my handlebar mustache. Just got to wipe that out a little bit. Since when do you have a handlebar mustache? Since I became a hipster. You're a hipster now. Yeah, I'm a hipster. I see.

Can you explain to me exactly what's going on? All my life. I wouldn't have minded being a cool kid. But it never happened, so I figure now... But, I mean, you see the key word is kid, right? kid yeah well young people right i mean but you know you're um i'm what you're a 45 year old man in a few months i'm going to be 46 right not your late 40s okay and i start becoming hipster in your late 40s that that's pathetic that's just really pathetic uh-huh this is my last shot

to get it done you know while i'm still young while i'm still young man i mean it could be argued that you're not that maybe you're a little too old for this kind of thing i'm not arguing that it could that it could that it could be argued that one i'm just saying let me guess you're going to argue no i'm saying what you're going to argue no i'm saying One might argue that maybe... Hey, hey, let me... If you want, I can read you some of my ironic t-shirts. They're really cool.

They're, like, super amaze balls. Uh-huh. This shirt I'm wearing now says, I heart Wall Street, but we don't. Hipsers don't like Wall Street. So it's ironic. And then this one here says, Justin Bieber.

Everyone knows that I don't love Justin Bieber, but I have a Justin Bieber. I do, but they don't know that I do. So you wear a T-shirt that says Justin Bieber, and you love Justin Bieber. I don't understand what the irony is. Just ain't out of drugs, this one says. And that's...

Toyerronic. Hipsters do lots of drugs. Oh, is that so? They drink. But they don't just drink. They drink fine wine. Oh, I see. And they know the dates and where it comes from. And, you know, just give you an example.

Yeah. Last night, I went out to a place where all the hipsters go. And I order a scotch. Uh-huh. So he took this meter-by-meter block of ice and chiseled it down to make this kind of beautifully shaped kind of like block of ice. An ice cube, you might say. It was an ice cube.

But at first it was a meter by meter ice cube. And then he made it into about like a two inch by two inch ice cube. Right in front of my eyes. It took about 40 minutes. People are in line behind me. No one cared. Everyone's waiting for their ice cube. It was beautiful way he did it.

He's called an isologist. I see. He works with the mixologist. And they made me a scotch that they found from a shipwreck in the St. Lawrence. Like, incredible. Everything was artisanal. Everything was organic. Uh-huh.

One day you'll come out with me. The only thing is, hmm, just the way you're dressed and stuff. Oh. Cool. Oh, I see. I wear vintage clothes now. Oh, you do? I kind of want to do a little bit of a Buster Keaton, Slice Stone, slash Grizzly Adams,

slash Mr. Spock, slash slash from Guns and Roses, slash George Harrison, slash King George, slash Boy George, and skateboard freaks. That, that, you really, well, you know. There's other ways to express yourself, the music I listen to, for example. Oh, yeah, what do you listen to? You know, hipsters, we listen to things that are a little more utre. a little more off the rails, as well we'd say. And, you know, even just before you called,

I was listening to newly emerging independent music. I believe you called me, actually. A lot of these fans also, I mean, I mean, people listen to them now, but I was listening to them before they were cool. Oh, yeah? Like the Beatles, for example. The before they were cool. I like their first EP.

That's a special one for me. And after that, I think this one commercial. Uh-huh. And stop labeling me. I didn't say anything. I really resist being defined. I don't know what I am, and that's exactly what defines me. But you don't get it

Because you're from the old days I guess I am A number old man You smell like mothballs And I smell like a maze balls You know, I'm all riled up now I was feeling all chillax Just a minute ago

And I'm all relaxed I'm sorry And now I'm gonna have to unbutton the button On my skinny jeans Just so I can breathe Okay You're wearing skinny jeans Yeah

And I'm just gonna do this top button So I can have a hard time I get my fingers in there Okay I'm having a hard time getting this off I can't get this button-buttoned. Okay, Howard. John, I can't get this button on a button, and I'm suffocating on my skinny jeans.

Just keep... You're going to have to come over right now, and my pet person to have me anxiety attack. Okay, I understand. Okay, Howard... You understand. I'm a 44, and I'm wearing a 32. I can't feel my legs. I can't have a move.

This is cray-cray. John, you're going to have to cut me out. Okay, Howard, I'm on my way. Wait, wait, wait, also. You pass by that southern place, right? What? If you can get me, like, some co-boys, and get me a lobster burrito. And if you can get some, a really good...

On Wiretap today you heard Gregor Ehrlich, Fred Stoller, Buzzendina Goldstein, Joseph Keckler, and Howard Chackowitz. Special thanks to our listeners who shared with us the crazy things they've done for love. Wiretap is produced by Mirabirt Wintonic, Crystal Duhame, and me, Jonathan Goldstein. For more CBC podcasts, go to cBC.ca.ca slash podcasts.