Shadow Stories

Los Angeles, CA / Michael / 2

Hey! I took a few days off, but I'm back! I could pretend I've been working really hard on short stories about this trip, but I really just baked and went swimming with C and Ab (you've seen them on my insta story) and learned this Hamilton Evans dance that is absolute fire. If you don't spend your spare time watching dance videos on YouTube, you should. 

What's left, then, before I head back out on the road? A final post about Elan and Michael (spoiler: it's turned into two posts), then posts about my final shadow stop last weekend in Riverside. I'll probably catch up just in time to leave again . . . perfect timing!

I absolutely loved my time with Michael and Elan. (Now that I got in a non-original, non-informative introductory statement, I'll start saying things that are actually interesting, or something.)

Michael did that art on the wall, the print of their dogs. Their dogs have passed away, but they inherited Michael's sister's cat, which you can see on the couch. But they both claim that they "aren't cat people," so I'm passing on the message.

Michael did that art on the wall, the print of their dogs. Their dogs have passed away, but they inherited Michael's sister's cat, which you can see on the couch. But they both claim that they "aren't cat people," so I'm passing on the message.

I arrived on Wednesday afternoon. I'd driven down that morning from the Bay Area, which, if you've heard that phrase your entire life and don't really know what it means, see my very geographical explanation in my last posts

When I pulled up to Elan and Michael's home, Michael introduced himself and showed me around the house. Elan, he informed me, had been unable to get back into town from work and would be arriving the following day. We sat in the living room talking for at least an hour, maybe two. Michael was over-complimentary of my crazy idea ("I think it should be required," a sentiment Elan echoed when I met her). He mentioned it in light of Dirty Jobs, the show on TV where Mike Rowe interviewed people with difficult or undesirable jobs; I loved that analogy. 

He asked me where the idea for The Summer Shadow came from. My answer to this is different each time depending on what I'm thinking about at the moment, but this time I talked about learning how to have important, honest, genuine conversations with people once I got to college. Because I had no friends. Because I moved four states over. Because I realized that if I wanted friendships founded on Christ, I needed to be brave enough to talk about Christ. Cool story, I'll tell it sometime.

This is the tree at the top of the hike!

This is the tree at the top of the hike!

Anyway, we also talked about their neighborhood and his past jobs and current job. He was the creative director at Klutz books, he worked in marketing for the Koosh ball, and other sorts of random, California-classic "i've-heard-of-that-but-never-realized-real-people-worked-on-it-and-now-I-know-one" way. Also, a job appeared on his phone screen while we were talking—his casting agent had an audition for him for a commercial. (!!!!!is this normal). It called for a dad-looking man who would be flipping burgers at a tailgate; the email said a "normal to average" looking male. We laughed at that description for the next three days. "Normal to average," he'd say, "is the same thing." 

Anyway, we followed that two-hour conversation with a hike, and we talked for two more hours then. He told me about discovering that he could draw in high school, and the slow evolution that followed as he turned out of a shy person and into an artist. He even got onto student council because his posters were so good. And once he was on it he did nothing, he claims, and his election now seems like less of a good idea because he has to help plan class reunions. 

casual view. that's the griffith observatory on the far left!

casual view. that's the griffith observatory on the far left!

When we got home, we started talking again, until 7:45 when Michael started making dinner. He'd recently decided to learn how to cook and has been ordering Hello Fresh, so we had Dukka-crusted chicken (I linked the google search for you; we didn't know what it was either). He did it all without letting me help, claiming that he needed to know he could do it himself. Which of course he did without any issues, and it was delicious. The chicken came with sweet potatoes. It also came with sugar snap peas, which was the only hiccup in the preparation. I've attached a picture of the instructions so that you can see how easily the mistake could happen: "Add sugar," so he added sugar, just a dash, then went back to the instructions, "snap peas." He started laughing. He'd added sugar. Instead of adding sugar snap peas. So we ate them, and called them sugar sugar snap peas. 

the chef himself!!

the chef himself!!

see how you could just read "add sugar?" so he did!

see how you could just read "add sugar?" so he did!

Over dinner, we had another two-hour conversation, this time about politics, and it was my favorite conversation I've had about politics in a long time. I'd say we're each accommodating, sensible citizens, if I can make that claim. I agree more with him about politics and the world today than most of my friends. Both of us are mild-mannered about politics, so even that was kindred and pleasant. Conversations are such a better way to spend an evening than TV. Which is my reflection on the end of that night, and also another topic of conversation Michael and I touched on along with politics.

The next day, Michael told me what Elan would have been doing, if she'd been home—working in her office, eating lunch at a cute health-food-y cafeteria place called Lemonade—so that's what I did. She was set to get home in the late evening, so that afternoon, he and I went to audition for the commercial. 

The commercial audition—a bunch of people, organized by type, a bunch of rooms, organized by number. Michael signed in, memorized his lines, waited his turn, went into the room, and then we left. Except it took longer than that sounds, because Michael was early and casting was late. Fascinating experience. 

creeper picture I took of Michael waiting for his big moment

creeper picture I took of Michael waiting for his big moment

That night, we ate at a place down the street, then I worked on a blog post while he ran to the grocery store to get food for Elan. While we waited for her flight to land, we watched World of Dance and So You Think You Can Dance.

SYTYCD (because, in addition to being the best show, is also the worst-named show, so it requires a lengthy and annoying acronym) is basically the only TV show I care about or watch. Michael had talked about these shows on the way back from the hike the day before. He had been explaining to me why World of Dance's in-the-round stage doesn't work, why Nigel is a good judge, and why the camera needs to cut between takes less often. 

Few people watch these shows, so it's always fun to find someone else who does. But a dad-aged man who is conversant not only on the production and cinematography but also on all the dancers is an absolute rarity. So I had a blast talking about Teddy Coffey with someone who knew who he was. (If you don't, you should.)

This is Michael, explaining to me the problems with World of Dance's cinematography. Amazing.

This is Michael, explaining to me the problems with World of Dance's cinematography. Amazing.

That night, Elan got home. WOW I love her. But I wrote so much about Michael that for your sake and my sake and their sake, we'll give her her own post.

But I loved my time with Michael. Here's his website for his creative work, and here's the one for his musical group. He is funny and interesting and engaging. I liked talking to him, sometimes because he was so good at listening. And sometimes because he was so good at talking that I didn't have to talk. Usually people do one or the other; it was impressive to meet someone who can do both. It was also nice because when I was chatty or curious, i could talk, but when my introvert-self was exhausted, I could nod and smile. (And still listen! But not have to try as hard.) 

Michael did comedy improv for years. The one rule of comedy improv, he told me, is "yes, and . . ." Regardless of what someone says to you on stage, you must agree, and only then may you add your own idea. I'm not in the business of deciding whether to like people or not. But here's how I'd characterize Michael, if he were going into a book: he's the type of guy you feel like you should like less and less once you know him, because he's better than you at everything. And the more time you spend with him, the more things you find out that he's good at. But the more you hang out with him, the more you like him, because he's the person who always gives a "yes, and." He's amenable and interesting; Elan apologized for not being at the house for the first day I was there, but I think spending the first day with Michael and the next one with her was absolutely perfect.

Views, which is the name of a Drake album I haven't listened to

In a halfhearted attempt to be relevant, I have titled this post after some pop culture that I don't know anything about. Thanks to this slick move, my SEO is about to be off the charts. I'll keep you posted. (Actually, I was just too lazy to come up with a blog title.)

I have one more post I'm working on about Elan and Michael, then you'll get to hear about my final stop (Riverside, CA!) before I came home. I got home on the fourth, where my family helped me recover from a month of extraverting by hosting a huge party. (jk, all the best ppl were there & I had a grand time.) Since I've been home, I've played 49 rounds of multiple solitaire and blogged 0 times, forgive me. Because I know thousands of you await each post with bated breath, I've compiled some of the prettiest road pics I've taken so far to tide you over until my post about Elan. Who, let's be real, is the reason you're all visiting the blog. What a queen.

I took the photo below on the way to my shadow in western Oklahoma. What a sunset! Even in Oregon, the people I stayed with were talking about how Oklahoma has the prettiest sunsets. This is a proven fact, verified by the renowned scientist Ree Drummond, so enjoy this quick shot while you book your next vacation to America's corner. Seriously, that's what the highway sign says. What does that mean?! We need a new marketing crew. 

I had a two-day drive between Denver and Oregon—through Wyoming, Idaho, and Utah. 

As I anticipated this summer, Wyoming was a must-visit on my list, number one out of the places I've been before (I'll happily let Seattle and Portland sit atop the never-before list). If states were people, Wyoming would be introverted, unassuming, and freaking gorgeous. Like me!

But seriously! Look at that mountain. (Then picture it with a nice filter and adjusted light, cause it was even prettier in real life. But I don't edit my pictures because I'd rather do other things, like make pancakes or watch So You Think You Can Dance.)

Below is Oregon, just being beautiful. I was listening to This American Life when I took this picture, which is one of my favorite podcasts. The episode, about coincidences from people all over the country, was so entertaining. Here's the link!

More Oregon . . . look at those trees! Amazing. And the reflections of the car interior on the windshield! Also amazing.

Here's a random mountain that reared its beautiful head on my drive through Washington state. It's not even Mount Rainier! Just a less-fussed about, nameless-to-me, still-photogenic mountain.

And a sunset north of Napa that blew my mind. Before nightfall almost really blew my mind. It closed out a 12-hour drive with 15 miles of winding hairpin turns. In hairpin-turn-land, 15 miles is about 45 minutes. Send help.

This final picture is from my drive home. I snapped it in Arizona. Or New Mexico, I can't remember.  From spending about ten hours in each state on Highway 40, I decree that New Mexico is prettier. New Mexico is also where Troy and Gabriella attend East High, don't stick to the status quo, break free, and make cinematic history, so props to this under-appreciated state for its vital contributions to the definition of being American. Sorry, Grand Canyon, you've been overtaken.

As Abigail says in the greatest-ever video on the Perkins vimeo channel, "There you have it, folks!" Crummy, mid-podcast pictures of our grand land, with strange lighting and even stranger commentary. Thanks for reading. More updates soon!

Madeline Perkins
Los Angeles, CA / Elan + Michael / 1

I spent Wednesday night till Friday night with Elan and Michael, a couple who live in Studio City, Los Angeles. Elan manages real estate for banks, and Michael does graphic design and writing and also singing and acting and stand-up comedy. Quite the pair. I would be fine being either of them when I grow up.

But really, hanging out with them was so fun. I spent the first full day with Michael—Elan was out of town for work until Thursday night, so Michael and I hung out on Wednesday and Thursday, then I shadowed Elan all day Friday. I'll write all about the experience in the next post, of course, but here's some highlights for now. It's in the style of the daily schedule posts, but a more laid-back version. Super LA, yeah?