David Lee, retired physician, current woodworker and luthier, asks,
“The Gospel of Tower of Power says that ‘Sometimes hipness is what it ain't.’ Do you think this concept can be taught, the path to it pointed out, or that you just have to know? You seem to appreciate the hipness quality in people and places that others don't always (maybe even rarely) see.”
Thank you kindly for your question, David.
So ya wanna dump out yo' trick bag.
Ease on in a hip thang,
But you ain't exactly sure what is hip.
So you started to let your hair grow.
Spent big bucks on your wardrobe.
Somehow, ya know there's much more to the trip.
Before these lyrics of “What Is Hip?”, the seminal ToP tune you’re referencing, arrive at your citation about “hipness being what it ain’t”, they suggest that when we attempt to achieve any degree of hipness, or at least the appearance thereof, perhaps through superficial means like our hairstyles or wardrobes, or by following some trendy, new-fangled philosophy or other, or even by smoking “the best weed” with the grooviest hippies, we’ll damn near always land well off the mark of that elusive condition of “hipness”; of seeming to be effortlessly “with it”, if you will. “Somehow, ya know there’s much more to the trip.”
You then ask, David, if this sensibility can be taught, or at least navigated toward, or if it is conversely some sort of inherent knowledge, as in that old saw, “if you have to ask, you’ll never know”, before finally accusing me of having somewhat of a nose for a specific varietal of hipness in other people and locations that is perhaps hidden or unlikely.
I suppose that, in a way, I’m the perfect person to ask this question, since I have always been absolutely clueless as to what might be considered “in” or “hip”. I don’t remember ever really thinking about it, either, as it just seems like something people must do in places other than the lumber yards, sausage carts and hiking trails I prefer.
I know that I have benefited greatly for the last 22 years by living next to my estimable bride, Megan, because she seems to have an innate sense of what is actually hip. Or, at least, what are the substantial, legitimate realms of creativity in the ever-evolving worlds of modern design, fashion, and popular culture, worlds that I just don’t seem to care as much about. When Megan creates a room in our house, shows me a fresh, cute outfit, or suggests a new Japanese documentary, she’s just following her gut in selecting the items in the world that feel right to her. Her natural acumen for this just happens to be exquisite, whereas mine is non-existent.
But I think the loose answer to your question is in that last notion: Like Megan, I don’t ever think about what to like, or where to place my interest, or how those interests might rate with other people. I merely follow my gut to things that delight me, and then sometimes I pass those pleasures along to my readership, since that is part of what I do vocationally: report back on my experiential findings.
I think then, that what the Tower of Power songwriters (Emilio Castillo, John David Garibaldi, and Stephen “Doc” Kupka) and I can agree on is that the less you think about being hip, and the more you’re simply true to yourself and your interests, the hipper you end up being.
Hipness, what it is!
Hipness, what it is!
Hipness, what it is!
And sometimes hipness is
What it ain't!
Drew Hohlt of the internet asks,
“On the topics of meats… Green Egg or Traeger? Pros/cons of each would be appreciated.”
Drew, thank you for this question, and for the specific request for a pros & cons format to my answer. For the record, the “Green Egg” and the “Traeger” references in Drew’s question are describing two popular types of brand-name grill units engineered especially for smoking meat.
There’s a funny thing going on here that happens to me with some regularity: because I have had some visibility on television or otherwise in the public eye, sometimes expressing an interest in woodworking, or paddling a canoe, or grilling a steak, or sometimes merely portraying a character who has interests of that sort, our culture will sometimes conflate the real with the fantasy and hit me with questions like this.
I am grateful for the estimation in which your query suggests you hold me, Drew, but the funny thing about this phenomenon is that I’m probably pretty average at most of the things that people sometimes think I’m more of an expert at. It’s understandable, especially given the similarities between myself and my character Ron Swanson, and his sometimes superhuman abilities in some of these arenas. I even wrote a song about it for my humorist special Full Bush, entitled I’m Not Ron Swanson. Here’s a taste:
I comprehend you’ve come to love another man
He’s studly and heroic, so I completely understand
But your expectations are a little high, I fear
Cuz if I tried to live like him I’d be dead within a year
See he can eat a big ass steak for every single meal
Cuz his colon is fictitious while mine is all too real
And his Scotch intake would be my liver’s doom
Cuz mine is controlled by nature, and his by the whims of the writers room
(co-written with Mark Rivers)
That said, I do love to grill and smoke meat, I guess in moderation. My Dad is a verifiable expert on the Weber charcoal grill, and it was under his tutelage that I first fell in love with cooking meaty treats over open fire. It’s a savory discipline and course of study at which I continue to happily labor to this day, ever seeking to further perfect my seared ribeye and my plank salmon and so forth.
I have a gorgeous and versatile grill/smoker from Hasty-Bake in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but you haven’t asked me about that splendid cooker type, so I’ll move along. I also happen to have a Big Green Egg, to use its proper nomenclature, in the Large size. For the novice smokers tuning in, this is a magnificent piece of Japanese ceramic engineering, with finely tuned mechanisms and a satisfying, quality finish. Using small amounts of hardwood chunk charcoal, I am able to maintain an accurate temperature for long, slow smokes, or crank it open for piping hot searing capabilities.
I am somewhat familiar with the Traeger brand of smoker, and people seem to really like them. I have spent some time on their website, and they look like a fine piece of equipment, but here’s where your question amuses me, Drew, that you might think I would have enough experience on both types of grill to justify a well-reasoned list of attributes. That said, let me relate for you some attributes and I’ll try to employ my reason as best I can.
My favorite aspect of the Traeger is that it burns pellets, engineered from the sawdust of various favorite wood-smoking species, like apple, pecan, hickory, mesquite, etc. Their website states that the nuggets are 100% real wood, simply compressed and heated without using any chemicals or binders, so that’s going to be a game changer in a few years when we’ll have cut down the last of the actual trees.
They also have some electronic bells and whistles that allow the person running the operation to go watch a sports while maintaining a desired temperature with a remote control. It’s pretty deluxe, which for me is actually a bit of a con. I like my apparatus to require my attention, so that I can meditate on the state of things, maybe with a friend, maybe with a couple cold cans of suds.
It’s like if I’m driving across the country with Megan, then we want our vehicle to be very comfy, and have luxurious extras like heated seats for when our sittin’ parts are chilly, but if I’m working in the woods of northern California, cutting and loading up tree slabs to make into furniture, then I don’t want cushy—I want a 70’s era F250 that can take a beating. I don’t want my smoker to be too bitchin’.
That’s the great thing about grilling and smoking—we humans have been doing it for as long as we’ve known about pigs and fire, so there are a lot of ways to pull off perfectly successful cooks. In his book Cooked, Michael Pollan has an extraordinary description of a barbecue operation in North Carolina that will leave your mouth fulsomely watering. The restaurant, called The Skylight Inn, uses full cinderblock buildings with tin roofs as their smoking ovens, burning full logs over 20 hours to achieve their tasty results.
Both the Green Egg and the Traeger are great pieces of equipment that will cost you a few bucks as well ($750 - $2,500). I imagine I’d be very happy with either, should I be so lucky as to have some nice grass-fed meat to throw on a low & slow smoke for an easy day of minding the grill.
Love,
My friendly Muleteers, any minute now, some of this content is going behind the dreaded paywall. Please leave your questions in the comments, and let me know where you’re from. The text version will remain free but the audio and video treats will require the paid subscription.
Trick Bag