WHAT IF PAUL SIMON, Oakland

Paul Freaking Simon and I made eye contact on Friday night.

I'm not kidding you about this.

Skylar went to the concert with me even though he was all like "this sounds boring when does Beyonce come out do they have any avocado toast where's my participation trophy" and I was like "YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS" but he was already in the Oakland area for work and I didn't want to go to this thing alone so his attendance made the most sense for me.

I bought the tickets months ago and since Paul said this was going to be his "farewell" tour, because I think he is being translated like Yoda was in Star Wars episode XXQI, I decided that I would empty all bank accounts and take out a second mortgage on my yachts so I could buy the best tickets possible. Now Duncan can't go to college. None of you can go to college because of how much I spent on Paul Simon tickets.

And I started regretting this a bit as we got into an Uber and started making our way from San Francisco to Oakland.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

You guys. Paul Simon. I'm going to be like this close to him this weekend. I got negative eleventy row tickets to see him for his supposedly-farewell-tour-but-obviously-he-could-never-retire-from-me. He probably already knows I'm coming and that I love him and that I would give my life for him even if it wasn't really necessary, but I also feel like if any of you are friends with Paul Simon, maybe you could do this Stranger a solid and get me some VIP backstage passes? Also, if you have this connection I might murder you and wear your skin. AND I MEAN THAT ONLY IN A NORMAL WAY.

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

In Natchez

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

Earlier this week Paul Simon posted on Instagram that he was retiring, which was a huge shock because he didn't even attempt to consult with me about this huge decision that affects both of us equally. After screaming so loudly that you could see it from space, I googled everything on the entire internet and found out that Paul is going on a "farewell tour" this year.

Then I spent eleventy hundred billion dollars buying super good tickets to see him in a city "near" me. And by "near" I mean "very not near" because for some reason Paul decided not to include Salt Lake City on his farewell tour and I can only assume this is because he knew it would be too hard to say goodbye. So now none of us are going to be able to think of anything else until I go to this concert three months from now.

Sorry about your jobs.

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

Same.

Episode 10: The World of Hard Conversations

It's an ultra packed episode this week in Strangerville, in large part because of all of the happenings in America over the last week. We invite you to join us on a thoughtful and peaceful journey through stories about hard conversations. Come and laugh with us, cry with us, blow snot all over the wall with us (wait . . . you guys don't do that? Yeah . . . neither do we . . . we were just testing you . . . ).

As always, we beg you like people without pride to share Strangerville with your family and friends. And if you haven't done so yet, please go leave us a review on what the kids are calling the iTunes. Cathie will nod approvingly if you do (this is worth a lot).

Also, of special note, Jolyn and I tried our hand at singing a Paul Simon song in this episode. It was much more complicated than we were expecting. And I now have a new respect for professional musicians. 

Without further ado,

Paul Simon

You guys.

The greatest thing that has ever happened in the history of happenings in the history of the entire United States of God bless Earth in order to form a more perfect union may the odds ever be in your favor with liberty and justice for all happened.

I, Eli Whistletalentationbly McCann, saw. Paul. Simon.

IN THE FLESH.

IN ALL OF THE FLESH.

I can't even begin to make up words to help you understand how excited I was sitting in my seat at least 45 minutes before the concert started, knowing that Paul Simon was in the same building as me. I swear to you that my heart was beating so fast that none of you have to exercise for a week. My heart was beating so fast that it reversed global warming and caused earthquakes in Djibouti.

Then the band walked out. All 12 or so of them. They walked out onto the stage that had eleventy billion different instruments on it, most of them something I believe Paul Simon invented because he wasn't satisfied with the crap us commoners use to create music.

THIS IS WHY WHAT IF PAUL SIMON!

Yesterday "Gretchen in PA," that being of wonder and light, commented on Stranger that Paul Simon announced that he would be doing a concert in Salt Lake City on May 22 this year. And this was my face.

Because Sleeping.

Last night I got an email just as I was about to get ready for bed from someone at the office asking me to do some relatively time-consuming work by 9:30 AM the next morning. This meant that I basically had 12 hours to write a bunch of stuff that needed to be filed in court today.

I didn't know how long the proposed tasks would take me but if being raised by Bob and Cathie for three decades taught me one thing it's that when something new comes up on your to-do list, you immediately stress yourself out into oblivion, drop everything else you are doing, and ruin your life to get that thing done no matter how small the task and no matter how fungible the deadline.

Did I use that word correctly? Fungible? Fungible. Fun-gible. I put the "fun" in fungible. That word is starting to not sound like a word anymore. Did I make it up? Maybe I made it up. But the red squiggly lines aren't running underneath it, which means either I didn't make it up or I said it so confidently that the Internet believes it's a real word. And if I can fool the Internet into believing the word is real, surely I can fool it into thinking that I used it correctly.

I mean, come on, y'all. You're looking at the guy who got someone to add "twice up the barrel, once down the side" onto Urban Dictionary and another confused person to ask about it on Yahoo! Answers, wherein the person who answered the Yahoo! question amazingly referred to Urban Dictionary for the answer, WHICH PROVES that Strangers are now the rulers of the entire Internet. We have dethroned cats.

A Young Lawyer

I rolled into my house sometime late in the evening last night to get some rest. As usual, it took me three or four times longer than I anticipated to get ready for bed. No matter how tired I am and no matter how many or few distractions there are, it always somehow seems to take so much longer to get ready for bed.

I climbed under the covers, telling my Siri command to "wake me up in three hours." It responded, "your alarm is now set for three-thirty A.M."

Three-thirty. A.M.

I didn't really realize how ridiculous this schedule was until I heard the words come out of the i-phone. But I dozed off before I could dwell on it for too long.

I woke up before the alarm ever sounded. About an hour earlier than I had anticipated. And it was the kind of waking up that I knew was going to be long-lasting. I wouldn't fall asleep again. Not for a while, anyway. Too much running through my mind. Too much anxiety.

SNL 40th

On Sunday night I watched all eleventy million hours of SNL's 40th anniversary celebration. I'm not an SNL fanatic. I probably catch about 5% of each season. I find most of the sketches two times longer than they should be and half as funny as could be.

But I watched all eleventy million hours of the 40th anniversary celebration because WHAT IF PAUL SIMON!?

And you guys. I know you've criticized me before because I do a lot of things only because WHAT IF PAUL SIMON. Like every time I go to the grocery store, or dress up for work, or refuse to make any weekend plans. And you guys are like, "Eli. You are making all of your life decisions on the very unlikely possibility that Paul Simon is going to suddenly show up. Also, ohmygosh that new haircut is totally growing on you. LITERALLY. Hashtag you woke up like this."

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

I'm so nervous. 24 hours from now the Niece Who Hates Me is coming to my house for a sleepover. I'm going to spend the entire day tomorrow writing down lists of jokes and things I can do with my hair so she'll like me.

Tonight I combed through your emails to bring you this week's Pictures and Distractions. I've been meaning to mention it for a while, and I've probably mentioned it before, but I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate all of the emails and messages. I have been terrible in the last year at responding to emails. There have gotten to be so many and it has become difficult to respond as much as I would like. But I promise you, I read every single one from beginning to end. Sometimes I even start writing a response but then I get distracted because eating and TV and WHAT IF PAUL SIMON.

So if you've got some email sitting in my inbox and you're super pissed because I haven't written back and told you how good your hair looks today, rest assured that it's not because I don't love you. And I do think your hair looks super good today.

And now, your Pictures and Distractions:

Mr. Ollie Pants taking a nap on my lap after licking my knee. 

How to Survive 48 Hours Camping in Civilization

Last week I went to the hospital for one of my heart tests. I wanted the ambulance to come pick me up and take me there because, I'm sorry, but I thought that was their job. But apparently it was "too expensive" and "unnecessary" and "Eli, please stop calling this number. It's only for emergencies." So I just had to drive myself.

Which brings me to my next point: if they aren't using ambulances to take people with enlarged hearts to the hospital, WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY EVEN FOR.

Not to be dramatic, but can you say guv'ment conspiracy?!

I showed up bright and early to get something called a "holter monitor" strapped to my body. Homegirl be all like "go ahead and take your shirt off" and I was like "HOW DARE YOU!?" Because Cathie used to always say that if you just give it away without a little chase people stop wanting it. And I recognize that that might not apply in this situation but it's a universal rule I try to follow at all times just in case.

BYU Crushes

So one Stranger, Cambry, just sent me a screen clipping of the below thing, informing me that I'm on some Facebook Page called "BYU Crushes," which is followed by thousands and on which people can anonymously post about their crushes. Apparently you click on the Google docs link at the top of the page and write the name of the person on whom you have a crush, including a small accompanying message, and then the administrator of the page posts that message on BYU Crushes. This one happened today:

Because WHAT IF PAUL SIMON!?

So yesterday was a national day of mourning because YOU GUYS!!! PAUL SIMON!!!

Don't worry. He didn't die (for those of you who don't have "Paul Simon" as a Google news alert, which, by the way, WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!).

Y'all! He got arrested! AND I DON'T EVEN SAY "Y'ALL!"

I wasn't supposed to know about it because one Stranger very thoughtfully tried to protect me from this information.