Dear Orlando,

Goodbye my friends… (5/2008)

The time is finally here, old friend. Come June of 2008, I will be exited your limits forever, never to return for residence or employment. I moved to your town back in August of 1999 so you can’t say I didn’t try. I exasperated all of your resources, met everyone I possibly could have, and done all I could within that time. There is nothing more for me here. We just weren’t meant to be. We have completely opposite tastes. You like hot weather and tourists, I like cool breezes and hate tourists. You spend a lot of your time building useless condos in your downtown area, instead of actual affordable places for your residents to live. You don’t have that many well paying jobs in your city… who the fuck is moving into these places?

So I am moving from you. Leaving your limits.

Whatever, I don’t care. We are over. The only thing I will miss about you are the friendships I created. You had nothing to do with those either, because most of those people hated you too. Most of them have already left. I’d be nowhere without the people I’ve met here.

It is true however, that I fucked up a great deal of my relationships with people in this town and I have lived with that regret for longer than I care to remember. For the last time, I will offer them an apology, from the bottom of my heart. Shit happened in the past and there is nothing I can do about it, no matter how bad I want to. All I can do now is move forward. Maybe they can too. I’m done with it though. My chest has burned too long. As Clutch once sang, “You can’t stop, you can’t stop progress.”

I am going to take this next year of my life and dedicate it to me. You see, a couple of friends of mine offered me a chance to stay at one of their rental properties in a city far away. The upside? They say I wouldn’t have to pay rent. That would help me more than you could ever know. In a year’s time, I’d be so financially stable, I would be able to move anywhere on the planet. That has been my dream for longer than I can remember. The downside to that? This house is located in the town I came from. I vowed never to live in that city ever again, but never has an opportunity struck me like this before.

This decision didn’t come easy either. I’ve been contemplating it for months, without mentioning a word to anyone. A lot of shit has happened this past year – like a lack of employment, work skills, and not being admitted into any graduate programs – that has caused me to take a look at my life. All of my failures will only lead to my success, and my misery to my enlightenment. I have no direction in life anymore, so this decision to move back home (even though none of my family lives there anymore) actually kind of makes sense. I’ve always been proud to say, “Man, I never had to move back home, not even for a summer.” Everyone else I know has done that, at least once in their lives. Now it is my time.

It’s going to be good. It’ll give me time to think, like when Billy Idol sinks another drink. I will be able to test those new teaching skills I have acquired, and provide me with some experience. I can put focus into re-applying myself to graduate programs, only this time none of them will be film related. Writing about film used to be something I was quite interested in. Actually, it was the only thing I was interested in. But I know now that this skill can and will be nothing more than a hobby. How can I treat it as a hobby when it was the only thing I was ever good at? I didn’t have skills to do anything else with my life. But perhaps I do now. So my film writing days are over.

I guess that is all I have to say about that. Nothing you will say to me is going to change my mind. This is this, and that is that. I’m letting you go, old friend. I’ve lived within your walls longer than I have lived in any other city in my life. That is quite an accomplishment but it is one that has to end. You take care of yourself kid. Be well.

Sincerely,

Mike Bronson

P.S. Please take care of my people who still live within you. I love them all and wish them nothing but happiness.

Dear Weezer,

There was a time in my life when I was proud to say I was a fan of yours. Even with our rocky start, which I’ll explain in a few moments, your music flowed around the walls of my bedroom more often than not.

And it’s kind of odd too. When your first album (now dubbed The Blue Album) came out, I was going through this odd phase of music. Punk in Drublic came out that same year too, and since it was so different than most of the shit any 13 year-old kid had access to, I didn’t give a shit about that Happy Days song.

Then some kid on my bus told me I had to go home and listen to it. “Okay dude,” I said with an open mind. So I listened to it. Surprisingly, it rocked my balls. Especially that song about the garage. I even sent you guys a SASE, like the liner notes suggested, and received your photocopied lyric sheet 6-8 weeks later. I was that inspired.

Pinkerton was released a few years later, when I was in high school. The day it came out, I didn’t have wheels yet of my own, so I called this pink-haired chick I knew. She had a car. She came over and I was like, “Can you run me up to the store?” She replied, “What for?” When I told her I wanted to get the new Weezer album, she was a little less than enthused. She obliged anyway.

They only had it on cassette in this store I went to. “Whatever,” I thought. She didn’t want to listen to it on the way back to my house though. Instead, she played some Soul Coughing. Regardless, I gave it a good listen to when I got home and loved the less poppy/more lyrically inspired approach the group took. The press wasn’t so optimistic though, and Rolling Stone named it one of the worst albums of the year. Add that to the fact that no one actually bought the album, and you got yourself more than enough reasons for Weezer to call it quits. I was sad for the first year or two, until I forgot about it.

In 2001, there were rumblings about that the Weez would be back in full force (minus one of the pivotal members). I was somewhat curious but never gave it much thought until an album release date was posted. A few weeks before the album came out, I heard this awful song on the radio. The song was called “Hash Pipe” and I heard it more often than not. I was quite curious to find out what shitty new-school poppy alternative band sung this song. It sounded like the Local H of 2001.

I went to a midnight release party for the record and picked it up. On the way home, I popped the disc in my CD player and prepared myself for the good. Ultimately, the first 2 songs sounded exactly the same and in short, they were lame. It’s after the second song ended, when it happened.

“What’s this?” I asked. It was fucking “Hash Pipe”. “Unholy Lord,” I thought, “how can this voice-piercing shit be Weezer? Say it ain’t so!” But it was. This song was indeed Weezer – but not good Weezer. This was new Weezer. The rest of the album was just as disappointing and similar. In fact, to this day, I’ve only given that album 4 listens before ultimately retiring it to the bowels of my CD collection. I felt defeated.

Maladroit came out the following year and while it was a large improvement over the wretched Green Album, it still couldn’t hold a piece of deuce to Blue or Pinkerton. I listened to that album about 8 times before retiring it. It was about this time that I called it almost quits with the group.

I wouldn’t end up retiring the band from my mind and memories until 2005. They made an “album” (if that’s what you call it) called Make Believe. I was actually somewhat pumped to hear it, as Rick Rubin’s name was attached. Unfortunately for us, Make Believe was a giant piece of shit. Ever see that 2girls1cup video? That substance in the cup that these ladies were chewing on/painting with, was the new Weezer album. It was that stinky, wretched and awful. It would be the first Weezer album I wouldn’t purchase. They were dead to me.

Now, in 2008, it appears they have a new album coming out next month. I’ve heard about 3 or 4 tracks off it and all I can say is that if you thought Make Believe was awful, these tracks prove that Weezer have sunk to a new low. The Weezer we 90s kids grew up loving have long since been murdered.

What happened to you guys? You guys were so good. Did the Pinkerton fiasco really hurt you guys this much? How is it possible for a band to suck this much? You’re like the new Limp Bizkit but without the metal. So I have a proposition for you…

Your new album is called The Red Album, right (I guess your talents can easily be compared to your lack of album naming skills)? How about this. If I get everyone I know to buy a copy of it, will you then take that money and stop making albums? I am asking you to break up, forever. Would you be interested in that? If you keep going the way you are, everything you’ve accomplished in your early years will have been for nothing, like M. Night Shyamalan.

That is all I ask of you. Me, one of your ex-biggest fans, asking a simple request from one of his ex-favorite bands, like a dying cancer kid getting one last wish. Will you please just do this one thing for me? The songs on the radio suck enough without your awful imput.

Stop it… no, you stop it! (5/2008)

Take care of yourselves.

Regards,

Mike Bronson

Dear Dunkin’ Donuts,

I have gone to your shops every morning for coffee since 2003. I love Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. Unlike that shitty Starbucks garbage, your coffee actually tastes like coffee; not some burnt elephant feces mixed with cream and sugar. Seriously, kudos on not selling out to that new-age, rich white people coffee shit.

On top of ordering a coffee every morning, I usually tag team that with something like a donut or a croissant to fill my stomach with excitement. On most days however, I tend to go for the classic – the bagel with cream cheese. Here’s where the problem lies.

Is it really necessary to put a 6″ thick wall of cream cheese between the bagel halves? I mean seriously, why so much cream cheese? I can scrape off the extra cream cheese from my Monday bagel and use it on all my bagels throughout the week and still have some left over. Seriously, how is the world’s cream cheese supply not in danger from you people?

Too Much Cream of Cheese (10/2007)

“Why don’t you ask for a lighter amount?”

Come on, you think I haven’t tried that in the past 3 or 4 years? If I say, “Can you only put on a little please?”, they put a paper thin layer of it on. You can’t even taste it. And if you say something like, “Can you just put on a normal amount?”, they put that brick between it again. Who the fuck eats that much cream cheese? I go through like 75 napkins with each bagel I eat from you people.

“Why don’t you go somewhere else?”

I won’t go anywhere else because you really have the best coffee in town. There is a Burger King nearby but that place smells when you get too close to it. And their breakfast sucks anyway. I like not weighing over 200 lbs.

In closing, would it be possible for you to send out a little memo out to your managers? It could say something like this:

Team:

Can you please limit the amount of cream cheese you put on bagels from here on out? That stuff isn’t free. There is no reason why a single bagel should have $4.32 worth of cream cheese on it. Especially when the bagel itself costs about $1. There really is no need for it. It’s not like we’re going to pay you more than $6.00 an hour because you used up all the cream cheese. Use your heads people.

Sincerely,

The Dunkin’ Donuts Higher Up Rich White Guy

I hope this helps you. I would love to grab a bagel from Dunkin’ Donuts tomorrow and not have to spend 7 minutes (and 63 napkins) taking care of the cream cheese situation.

Regards,

Mike Bronson

Mayoral Observations: Creedance Clearwater Revival

Worst John Fogerty Portrait Ever (10/2007)

Dear City Pictures Readers,

I’m Da Mayor. Some of you know me, some of you don’t. Bronson is my pal. We like to rock it when we can. Last week, our rocking consisted of really good beer, really cheap beer, at least 6 Bloody Mary’s (one of which was in a mason jar), and the first two seasons of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Somewhere in all that goodness, we got to talking, yada yada yada… next thing I know, he agreed to post a few Mayoral Observations in his blog. That kid is the shit.

So I’ve met a ton of motherfuckers in my day. I’ve met people who hate Rush, love Jack White, and could give a shit about John Mayer. It’s okay to hate The Grateful Dead and love Wilco. I’ve known individuals who didn’t “get” the whole Beatles thing. In 1999, Al Di Meola and I stood in his kitchen making fun of sax solos.

Everyone these days likes to believe that they have the most diverse taste in music (peep anyone’s Myspace page to confer). In this vast world of musical preferance, where there are literally millions of variables, I offer this constant variable: ever meet anyone who didn’t like Creedence Clearwater Revival? I haven’t. I’d even bet 50 Cent and Eminem rock to some Creedence before they lay down a track. Seriously, think about it. Everybody loves them some Fogerty.

And why wouldn’t you? It’s so good. Now, not everyone sets out to voluntarily listen to CCR daily but volume knobs turn to the right as soon as you hear “Down on on the Corner.” What about “Fortunate Son”? Fuck me, that’s probably the greatest anti-war song EVER. If you don’t have it already, just go buy Willy and the Poor Boys. And while you’re at it, trade in some of those Reward Zone coupons and pick up Chronicle Vol. 1 – the definitive ‘greatest hits’ album – as well. Just a thought.

Till next time…

- Da Mayor

P.S. What kind of shit is this Across the Universe picture? That fucker looks truly atrocious. I don’t give a goddamn if Bono is it or not. It screams Moulin Rouge with shitty covers of songs I love. Fuck that movie. Bronson should punch that movie in the face!

Dear Britney Spears (Part II – The Mix Tape),

Hey kid. I haven’t heard back from you but I guess that’s understandable. Just days after I wrote you my last letter, the government came and took your kids away. Now that dude who tried to be Eminem has them. And now, I see you on the internet/CNN/television/magazine covers even more than I did before.

Speaking of K-Fed, do you not have standards? It seems that you’ll let anyone enter you. What’s going on with your self-esteem? I mean, it’s not like any ounce of my body has ever found you attractive, but still. I’d imagine that you could do better. Or can you? I digress.

How does that make you feel… the part about losing your kids I mean? Are you sad? I am sorry you are sad. I’ve put together a list of songs that may help you along the way. If I could make you an actual mix-tape, like it’s 1987 again, I would. But that’s simply too much work for today. So I’ll just tell you the songs and you can download them yourself, using legal means like Itunes. I hope you enjoy them, as I tried to get a good mixture of genres together for you. Here they are, in the order I would put them:

Mix Tape for Britney Spears:

• 1. Fiona Apple – Not About Love (Unreleased Jon Brion version)
• 2. Elliott Smith – Needle in the Hay
• 3. Bright Eyes – Landlocked Blues (with Emmylou Harris)
• 4. The Eels – Last Time We Spoke
• 5. Johnny Cash – I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry (Hank Williams Cover)
  
• 6. Bob Dylan – Buckets of Rain
• 7. Black Sabbath – Changes
• 8. Born Against – Go Fuck Yourself
• 9. Beck – Lost Cause
• 10. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – Am I Only
• 11. Anal Cunt – You Got Pregnant So I Kicked You in the Stomach
• 12. Descendents – My Dad Sucks
• 13. Gorilla Biscuits – Start Today
• 14. Norah Jones – Not My Friend
• 15. System of a Down – She’s Like Heroin
• 16. The Velvet Underground – Heroin
• 17. The Walkmen – The Rat
• 18. Kanye West – Gone
  
• 19. A Tribe Called Quest – Buggin’ Out
• 20. Poison the Well – Pleading Post
• 21. Screeching Weasel – I Will Always Be There
• 22. Peter Bjorn & John – Roll the Credits

Originally I had 15 songs but I figured the more, the merrier. 22 songs is a nice start, right? I even drew you a cover for it too (you’d have to print it out and cut it to fit the CD case though), because that’s the kind of guy I am. Perhaps next time I write you, I will include a list of movie suggestions for you, to also help you through these troubled times.

It Should Be Obvious (10/2007)

Have you been thinking about that piece of advice I gave you? You know, the part where I suggested you may want to move out of California? Clearly that state isn’t doing too well for you. I just hope you don’t end up like Owen Wilson. That dude tried to take his own life. He’s a good kid too, and you have it way worse than he does. I mean, he was once nominated for an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay (Royal Tenenbaums, 2001). I can’t imagine you ever getting that honor. Again, I digress.

Keep your chin up kid. Hope to hear from you soon.

Your pal,

Mike Bronson

Dear Jackie Chan,

How have you been dude? I read an interview recently where you discussed the problems you’ve been having doing stunt work these days because, well, you’re getting a little too old for that. Does this mean we’ll see you in more comedies? Let’s hope so.

But I write you this letter because of some statements I’ve been I’ve been reading about you lately. In regards to the first Rush Hour film, you said, “I felt the style of action was too Americanized and I didn’t understand the American humor.” Well Jackie, I am here to tell you not to worry about it. It’s a Brett Ratner film; the only thing funny about it is how that guy has a career.

So you stressed your disappointment with the first film, why do two more? Especially when you had to work with that asshole, Chris Tucker? His last three movies have been the Rush Hour films. And that dude gets a bigger check than you too. That has to piss you off, doesn’t it?

I loved Tucker in Friday. Back in my youth, I “watched” that movie tons of times, if you know what I am saying. Lately though, I just don’t get him. You either want to be an actor, or you don’t… pick a side. Also, there is something about that dude’s face that has always baffled me. Like, when I look at him, his face looks more like a Picasso than a real one. Maybe it’s his personality or something but every time I look at him, this is what I see:

Portrait of Chris Tucker (10/2007)

I don’t really understand it either. It’s like I’m a cyborg from the future and Chris Tucker causes my CPU to malfunction. My brain can’t just put the pieces of him together in the proper order, even though they are supposedly already put together for me.

I have yet to see this new Brett Ratner classic, Rush Hour 3, but I think I am going to keep it that way. If you somehow found a way to hate it, even though you got a fat check for it, there is no way in Hell I’d like it. Even if it has Roman Polanski fingering your asshole.

Keep up the good work though Jackie. And don’t worry if you pissed people off with your comments. I found them to be earnest and accurate.

Best Regards,

Mike Bronson

Dear Britney Spears,

Unholy fuck. It appears that I can’t walk around a grocery store or a book store, or even open up a web browser, these days without seeing a picture of your weird face. Since I know how annoyed I am at the subject, I can only imagine how you must feel. So I decided to write you this letter in hopes to give you some advice on how to handle your too-much-media-coverage situation.

But let me preface the advice-giving for a second by letting you know how I feel about you. I pretty much hate you. I never thought you were talented or good looking. I was a senior in high school when you started blowing up the charts with your shitty bubblegum pop music and all the degenerate guys who worked at the theater I worked at loved you. They even hung posters of you in the manager’s office. I tried to keep out of trouble so I’d never have to go in there and see it. So thank you for that.

Why do all your songs sound the same? Why do you sing about the same things? Who cares if you’re Britney, bitch… you need to sing some new songs. Oh, I have an idea… how about you try and write a fucking song for once? I’d love to hear that song. I can only imagine that it’d be your finest hour…

Sorry for all the ellipses, I can’t stop laughing at the thought you working a pen and a pad. What? You don’t know what ‘ellipses’ are? Simply put, they are three dots, or periods, next to each other without spaces (like this: ‘…’), which usually represent a pause in thought. But I digress. How about I go onward to the advice I was offering?

1. So there is this article of clothing that has been invented since, well, a long time ago I guess. It’s called “underwear” and people wear it to protect their genitalia from the outside elements, wandering eyes, and even the lens of the paparazzi. Being a victim of accidentally stumbling across your vagina twice now, I felt the urge to plead with you: go to Wal-Mart (or Target or Victoria’s Secret or Sears or fucking JC Penny) and buy yourself a couple of pairs. They come in multi-packs, so you should be good to go with about $20.00. They even come in a multitude of shapes, like thong or bikini, for all your styling needs. We’re all grateful that you at least keep your junk maintained but man, is all that extra flapage necessary? You need to keep that thing out of view from children. If I saw what you’re packing when I was a wee kid, I wouldn’t have grown up to appreciate the vagina like I do now. I would have been terrified of it instead.

 

Underwear for Britney (Michael Ferraro – 9/2007)

2. Be careful when you drive. In case your mother never taught you, hit-and-runs are not cool. They hurt people in fact. Plus, you get in a lot of trouble when you get caught. Who wouldn’t want a piece of your bankroll? I tell you what… next time you feel the urge to hit someone and flee, hit ME. I could really use the coin.

3. This bit of advice came to me by way of Paul Walker. He once said, “All these people who complain and bitch about it [paparazzi]… move. Get the fuck out! You don’t like the press, why the hell are you shopping on Rodeo Drive? Come on, it’s easy to disappear if you want to.” If you only followed his advice, you probably wouldn’t have the custody problems you have currently. Move out of California. Then you can give whomever a hummer on whatever balcony you want, without worrying if some camera is going to tape it. You may even be able to skip advice #1 if you lived in some place like Nebraska, because no one would give a shit you were there.

I think I could give you more advice (like maybe putting your kid in a child’s seat from time to time or just stop making albums already) but I think these three points are a great start for you. I wish you nothing but the best Britney, I really do. I can’t wait for the day when I am waiting in line at Publix, with a stack of bananas, and I won’t see your face or your money-maker on some magazine.

Take care of yourself kid.

Best Regards,

Michael Ferraro

PS. Loved your performance at this year’s VMAs. It was like you were channeling Elizabeth Berkley’s character from Showgirls or something. I haven’t laughed that hard since Tony Danza flipped a go-cart on his giant head. Good job.