Episode 76: Hello From… Don’t Worry About it

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            Well, a certain time of year has come back to us. Or snuck up on us if you are in my camp. I don’t think I’m necessary inclined to be aware of it, and it’s not because all the facets of my life have ramped up the difficulty a bit. Maybe I just don’t want to see it coming. Have you thought of that?

            Honestly, once the cynicism of adulthood sets in, it’s not so hard to see the downsides of the holiday season. The cost of gifts that may never get used again come February, the weirdly commercial narratives, the facts of travelling to see the fam, and for some people, the fam or family itself. All of these are conversations that we probably should be having or not having if conscious disengagement is how you have elected to deal with the family side of things, but necessity doesn’t detract from how exhausting it can be.

            Even the moment of realization--when you realize that this is not the vision you were sold as a child--is tiring. I mean, weren’t we all promised, whether by those around us or the various television programs out there, that this was supposed to be a magical time of goodness and cheer because that’s what I was told. And it hasn’t been that way at all. Or not entirely.

            That isn’t to say there isn’t whimsy to be found out there. There’s plenty. As a warm weather baby relocated to a place with an actual winter, the snow is pretty whimsical. The first day. Enough for a quick break from the seemingly endless scream of modern living. A scream we are--in various ways and at various points--obligated to maintain and bound to. Even if that arrangement is more than a little not sustainable for us.

            I mean, I know that sometimes I’ve hit a breaking point in which I want to literally scream without end. And moments of whimsy, moments in which the small and technically inconsequential details consume our attention, can be a much needed break for the madness.

            This is, of course, contrasting to the moments of genuine, substantive goodness--good events or good people--that need to not only be celebrated but preserved. And in that preservation comes both a critical difference and maybe another reason to start that screaming I mentioned before. It’s not a break if you have to do something, after all. And yeah, that’s in there.

            In fact, this need for something inconsequential and good is likely what keeps me entranced in the holiday season. Whether it be in the snow, holiday-themed coffee beverages or holiday themed bath bombs, it’s nice to have little moments of whimsically nonsense. And I’m kind of irritated that this is the only time I get to engage in this.

            Because, here’s the thing: once you’re an adult, you’ve got to participate in the whole “keep the world going” or “keeping yourself going” and that’s the sort of pursuit that doesn’t leave any room for small and meaningless joys, that we are told should only be reserved for children. When I was a child, I thought like a child, acted like a child… etc, etc. Or whatever version of it that you have heard. Even if this is a need we still have or maybe especially have in one form or another, apparently, it’s not something we’re supposed to indulge in.

            I will still try, though. Often secretly and for my own sake. Fortunately, there’s a podcast for that. Because podcast listening can be as discreet or obnoxious as you want it to be.

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            Hi. It’s M. Welcome to Episode 76.

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            So you see, apparently there’s this Burger King in Chicago that has a magically time rift or portal behind it that you might fall through. Other people have fallen through it. How many exactly is definitely hard to know for sure. I mean, people can be clumsy. And Chicago’s the sort of city where odd things happen all the time, but because it’s a city, we all just accept that these things are normal. Also, it’s not like people can tell you when they fall through this rift. It’s something of a one way street, but there was this one guy who fell through the portal with his podcasting equipment, so he’s able to broadcast with the faint WiFi he’s able to get through the rift from the Burger King. And that’s Hello from the Magic Tavern right there.

            It’s literally this call from a fantasy world where magic is the norm brought to you by this guy from our world who just happened to have his podcast equipment with him when he fell. It actually kind of worked out for him, I guess. Well okay, not really. It kind of sucks for Arnie because he’s got a wife and kid to get back to, but you know, it’s not like we shoved him through the rift, so if he’s making the most if it, we can help him do that.

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            To give you a bit more reference and grounding, Hello from the Magic Tavern is one of the podcasts Vulture featured in their most influence audio fiction list that made the rounds some time back. And when you consider the way that list was framed or presented, some of the items on that list are a great example of questionable and controversial choices.

            But hey, I’m not familiar enough with timing or distribution networks to offer up any constructive feedback on that, as evidenced by how small my shows still are. And that’s only half a joke. Regardless of my dark humor-slash-not humor, to me, Hello from the Magic Tavern deserves to be at least an honorable mention on every list of good audio fiction.

            To present a brief argument on that front. For one, the timing is right. It was launched in 2015 before the rise of podcasting and audio fiction. And it’s been uploading weekly almost without fail since then. It’s been a part of the podcasting space since the space was really built. And undoubtedly, having been around in a time when variety was a bit scarce, it’s not so hard to see the potential for influence.

            Not that I could really trace its legacy through other show. For one, I am nowhere near talented enough to do that. And two, it’s a fairly unique premise that was still open enough to become almost anything. But even still, if Hello from the Magic Tavern inspired you to create, that inspiration could mean anything. Like pushing boundaries, which is what podcasting is all about.

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            Personal deficits aside, I still feel fairly confident in cheering this podcast on. Even if it is a bit of a personal bias. I mean, hello that’s what Miscellany Media Reviews is.

            And there is a reason for my enthusiasm, even if it is not the best one out there. Beyond it just being one of the first and most enduring, it holds a dear place in my heart. And while my heart is not all that important cosmically speaking, the key that got it here likely fit into a lock or need that many of us have: a need for a break.

            But not escapism in the sense you might be thinking of. This is not the escapism that is secretly tied back to the problems of your life but repackaged in a more acceptable manner. I’m referring to a very different kind of break: the kind that we aren’t supposed to have and that manufactured loss that I was lamenting in the first part of the episode. In this break, well, nothing really matters. It brings us joy but little else. It’s the equivalent of buying that ornament because it looks cool. Or stopping for a hot chocolate when you should probably get to work early. Or enjoying the snow despite the impact on yours and other people’s commutes. It’s coming to a halt and not worrying--for a moment--about the chaos of the bigger picture.

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            That’s pretty much what this podcast is with the added bonus of being removed from our reality. As in, there’s no guilt involved in choosing to disengage. In fact, this wouldn’t even be considered a childish choice; it’s more like an inevitability.

            Look, if you land in a fantasy world with no clear way of getting out, you’ve got a couple options. I know we see a lot of stuff about chosen ones randomly appearing and then saving this other world, but that’s not going to be all of us. Sometimes you genuinely stumbled into something that wasn’t yours to deal with, and now you’ve got some time to kill. Or some other details you could think about. Details that might bring you joy. Or great confusion.

            Arnie is stuck in the quintessential fantasy world, and given that he really has nothing else to do, he’s making the most of it. He’s chatting up some new buddies and exploring the world of Foon from the safety of the Vermilion Minatour in Hogsface like the rest of us would.

            And yes, I said like the rest of us. Let’s be realistic here, it’s fun to say that we would be off in pursuit of adventure, but it’s a very different thing to do it. A thing that involves a weapon, which you probably don’t have, or money, which you definitely don’t have. And look, maybe I’m not giving you enough credit, but I know for a fact that if I landed in a strange world, I wouldn’t be acting like the children in Chronicles of Narnia. I’m either running back into that wardrobe or I’m finding some random but safe place to chill for a while. Maybe even nap. Especially nap.

            While Arnie doesn’t seem so desperate for sweet, sweet slumber, he’s just chilling in a tavern, asking questions and making jokes. And hey, he even managed to get himself a roommate. Checked that off the list. He’s now living with a badger name Chunt! And Chunt’s a pretty cool badger, but maybe I shouldn’t talk too much about him because that leads to certain other conversations. Right now, he’s a badger. Don’t worry about the how. I’m certainly not going to think too much about it. The show will into it, and good for them. This is just not for me.

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            Sure, I’d be quick to call that reaction realistic. I mean, there’s something in us that would want to seek out friendship in a time like that. And how could we rent out a room? In short, we likely couldn’t. You don’t know what’s valuable in terms of items or quests or what the currency is or what the inflation rate is. And wow, everything is starting to get overwhelming all over again, isn’t it?t?

            But in this fantasy world that is not your own, you have an excuse to disengage. And for many of us, it’s a much needed excuse. Not just an excuse, you could say. I mean, it’s a practical decision There are a lot of things to look at along the way, to explore or discuss. For the listener, who Arnie stands in for in some regard, the details of this world are fascinating. And because we are not the ones charged with an important quest, we can focus on the details and the stories therein. We can take the time to find out how the changelings work or what it means to be in theatre here.

            And because this is not our world, well, we don’t have to worry so much about significance. Honestly, when I’m listening to Hello from the Magic Tavern, it’s like I have permission to listen passively. I can remember what stands out, but if I need to find comfort in the sounds of the voices rather than the substance of the words, then fair enough. I can do that.

            Now might there still be significance to these things that you could find if you were inclined to go digging for it. I won’t say there aren’t, but odds are, the significance that is there--if you want to go digging for it--is that, well, the actor wanted to mess with his buddies.

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            Because yep, it’s another improv show. And it’s a really cleanly held together one, especially in the beginning. I didn’t even realize it was improv until the third episode when there was clearly a conspiracy, as I was inclined to call it, to throw Arnie off his game.

            In a podcast medley episode, I mentioned Improvised Star Trek and also how some people aren’t inclined to give even a nod of acknowledgement to the idea that improv comedy has its merits. And there are aspects of this section that are going to be familiar. And if you listen to both shows, there are other things that are going to be familiar. There’s some literal overlap in the casting and consequently the style, but there’s more to it than that. But it might be inevitable, you could say. Because that’s the supposed flaw with improv. It’s limited, they say.

            If it were a scripted audio-fiction, these people would be inclined to say that it would be better. There would be more substantive themes and plot threads. Plans, directions, that’s where it’s at. You don’t have that in improv or not in long form improv. Because human memory has its limitation and all that. And Improvised Star Trek is designed in such a way that it does not necessarily have t hold too many narrative threads to hold together. Hello from the Magic Tavern is a bit more ambitious in some regards, and some would say more inclined to fail or be some sort of a waste.

            You see, there’s that impulse to criticize or dismiss this style of comedy because, well, real art or anything of worth or value has to come from careful consideration, which means time. And you know, you don’t have time in improv, that’s the point. There’s no meditation and meditation bears meaning. And apparently all media has to have deliberate meaning, right?

            Well, I hate that entire thought process. So it’s fortunate that it falls apart in a couple places, but one in particular is thematically relevant. Namely, there is a significance to improv, even if that significance is a bit ironic because there is not a set one. Or not the sort of one that bears a sense of fatigue. At its core, improv is just about joy. After all, it’s a style of performance that bears resemblance or could be called a game. And games might seem like childish things but they do fulfill a need, a need for this break from the complexities of our reality that this definition of “art” insists upon incorporating into its existence.

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            In improv, this escape is somewhat inevitable. The mind is diverted from its normal obsessions while it’s trying to be witty while still keeping up with the story. It’s focusing on immediate details that cosmically speaking, are super irrelevant.

            It’s like it takes the sort of escapism that comes up in discussions on media and takes it up an additional notch because of this randomness, this unnecessary nature of some or many of the details, the fact that a great deal of this callout from the tavern is an exploration of a world and not a quest through it. I mean, I don’t want to go into Chunt and why he is a badger, but you know, Chunt being a badger and that whole thing… It’s not the sort of knowledge that I could ever utilize in any situation. It’s too absurd. There’s a lot of things about that world that are so absurd that you can’t think they are important. They aren’t at face value.

            But I keep relistening to those first few episodes when this sense of discovery and absurdity is at its thickest because this is the part that brings me the most joy. That’s the element that all my favorite episodes share: that some things just don’t matter. They can’t. But that means I don’t have to take them with me when I stop the episode. It’s one less thing I need to think about and then apply to my life. It’s one less thing to worry about.

            Or rather, not one more thing I need to think about. Because sometimes I can’t. Like someone put metal in our workplace microwave last week. That’s taking up way too much of my brainspace right now. However, I will spare you that inevitable rant.

            I just like or really need that when I put on Hello from the Magic Tavern, I have permission of some other level to just rest in the joys of the moment. Maybe I can’t stay long, but for now, I can stop and breathe. I can just rest. If only for a moment.

            My holiday season is not without its difficulty. Thanksgiving especially for me is… not great. And maybe I do need to sit in the presence of these difficult emotions or work to entangle the odd societal fascinations we have. Like how Black Friday is not the day after Thanksgiving anymore. Like I saw (quote) “Black Friday” sales the second Halloween was over. And that’s… frustrating. I don’t even have to work in retail.

            But there we go… After the microwave incident, I can’t handle that talk right now. So maybe it is fortunate that I don’t have to.

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            This has been a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from Sounds like an Earful. Thank you for listening. If you like the show, please consider leaving a review or checking out our other productions.

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