The Curious George Questionnaire: #5
George assesses the not-at-all-normal situation with funny man Michael Estrin
She: I was very new to Substack, but it seemed like Michael Estrin was here, there, every f(*&-ing where. I connected with his very funny and warm slice-of-life humor writing instantly. But more than that, I saw Michael constantly reaching out on Notes or in comments to show support, share his insights, or even dole out kudos and high-fives to artists big and the not-as-big. I have privately thought of Michael as the Ambassador of Substack for a while. No presh (and no pay increase, sorry). I feel lucky and grateful that I’ve gotten to know him a bit as both a wonderful human and a fine creative. Dig into his hilarious and life-affirming exploits at Situation Normal where you can also learn more about his work as a novelist and taco king of California. You’ll be glad you did—his stuff, really ties the room together.
MM: “Ah, South California…”
I am so relieved that it’s not just found there, but in odd pockets around the country—heck, around the world even: Dudeism—the main tenet of which is, “You must abide.”
Among all the Substack people I’ve gotten to know (and so many more to go), Michael Estrin is a mensch. We’ve had delightful back and forths and his Situation Normal is a must-read. I’m so glad Sheila snagged him for our George and this is wonderful to read. BTW Michael: Mitch is buried in Roseville, Minnesota, where he’s from, and I nearly got to meet him too, but my stand-up comedian, independent filmmaker and artist friend Coleman Miller DID so I’ll have to pry some Mitch stories from him and circle back. Truth is, it would bear out your friends’ narrative about Hedberg’s generosity—indeed, another mensch has left the planet. Let’s celebrate the ones still here, right?
Oh, and btw too— “I’m a Citizens for Boysenberry Jam, fan!”
Best wishes, Martin
Michael Estrin Answers The Curious George Questionnaire!
To me curiosity is…
Life. I don’t mean to sound trite, but I think that we die when we stop being curious. Unfortunately, some people stop being curious long before they kick the bucket, so they just sort of move through life like unquestioning zombies. That’s no way to live. To me, a good life is a curious life. I’m always asking questions, seeking out new experiences, meeting new people. Curiosity drives me to do those things. It’s like the beating heart of everything I do.
Describe a road not taken. Any regrets?
Here’s a quick story about a road trip not taken. I was watching Comedy Central with some friends. This was 1999, back when people thought cable TV was cool, even if you had to wait around for, like, hours to see the show you wanted to watch. At some point, Mitch Hedberg (google him) came on. He was amazing. We’d never seen anyone like him. After the show, one of my friends figured out that Mitch was playing at a small comedy club in Ohio. We were in Connecticut. The plan was to leave the very next day and drive 10 hours to see Mitch. I chickened out. I kept thinking that our car would break down, or that something awful would happen on the road. Later, I learned this was anxiety doing a number on me, but at the time I thought this was normal. So I stayed, and my friends went. They saw Mitch! Which was cool. But then Mitch came over to talk to them after his set. He asked them if they had a place to stay. They did not. He had an extra hotel room that he let them stay in. They stayed up most of the night, drinking, eating pizza, and hanging out with Mitch fucking Hedberg! A few years later, Mitch became a comedy legend, which gave my friends a cool story to tell. Then Mitch died way too young, and their cool story took on a deeper meaning about seizing the day. Do I have regrets? Well, to paraphrase a Mitch joke: I used to have regrets; I still do, but I used to, too.
Tell us how you fill your curiosity well
The short answer is people. Talking to people. People watching. Eavesdropping. People fascinate me. And the thing about people is that one person leads you to the next, unless you’re dealing with a hermit. But basically people fill my curiosity well.
Wonder or awe? Why?
Both. I want both. Is that too much to ask? I don’t think so. Wonder and awe are all around us, but we work really hard to ignore them. It’s like we’re trying to play it cool, as if a butterfly, or a delicious sandwich, or a random act of kindness aren’t things we're supposed to lose our shit over. But who are we fooling? Us. That’s who. We’re literally denying ourselves wonder and awe on the daily. And that’s really dumb. Because life is short (see above: my Mitch story that wasn’t). Moments of wonder and awe are these little breaks from the routine where we drop our too-cool-for-school facades and tap into something raw and honest about ourselves and our world. Did seeing that butterfly make you giggle like a child? Great, go with it! Did that vegan Bánh mì sandwich move you to tears? Let the waterworks flow, amigo. Did that random act of kindness restore your faith in humanity? Celebrate that, dude, and maybe pay it forward.
How would you spend your last day on earth?
I want to say I’d try something dangerous that I’d always been afraid of, like eating blowfish or skydiving. But I kinda doubt that I’d do either one of those things. I think my answer depends on whether it’s my last day, or everyone’s last day. If it’s just my last day, I’m going to have a party for everyone in my life. There will be tacos and ice cream. And Warren Zevon music. And a screening of The Big Lebowski. But mostly I just want to hang with the people I love. If it’s everyone’s last day, like the apocalypse is nigh, I imagine things will have a real Mad Max vibe. While I look good in assless leather chaps, I’m not exactly Road Warrior material. So in that scenario, I’ll likely just hunker down with my wife, Christina, and our dog, Mortimer. Hopefully, we’ll have some cannabis gummies so we can go out giggling while the world burns.
My life philosophy is_____
Dudeism.