Terror on the water: Grammy nominee Peter Himmelman's childhood encounter with the feared Lakota Sioux

Grammy-nominated recording artist Peter Himmelman was just a young boy when his father decided to take him on a canoeing trip. It was an early autumn day on Cedar Lake in Minneapolis. 

Hearing a party across the water, they approached to explore. It turned out to be a rowdy affair on Indian beach, named after the feared Lakota Sioux who would frequent the spot.

Suddenly, a muscular shirtless Lakota man dove into the water and began to swim furiously toward the canoe. Peter was terrified. His dad was smiling. 

The ensuing moments would be seared into Peter's memory, proving to be yet another formative experience with his larger than life father.

MoSpod.org

Episode Transcript

Max Chopovsky (00:02):
This is Moral of the Story Interesting people
telling their favorite shortstories and then breaking them
down to understand what makesthem so good.
I'm your host, max Jepowsky.
Today's guest is Peter Hamelman, a Grammy and Emmy nominated
artist whose incredible careerspans not just decades but
disciplines.
A wild roller coaster of a lifefor a contrarian polymath.

(00:24):
For some people, music is apassion they discover later in
life, perhaps stumbling into it,or it's serendipitously, almost
as if their fate could havetaken another turn at the
crossroads.
But Peter was predestined forthe staff and clef.
Born in the St Louis Parksuburb of Minneapolis, peter
grew up in the house filled withmusic.
His dad owned an eight-trackmusic store and would bring home

(00:47):
Hendricks and Joplin.
His mom enjoyed Amma, jamal andThelonious Monk, and his uncle
introduced him to John LeeHooker's Endless Boogie, a track
Peter played time and again.
His older siblings, meanwhile,played tracks like the Animals'
House of the Rising Sun, whichhypnotized Peter and connected
with him on a deeply viscerallevel.
And so, at 12, peter embarkedon the rock and roll journey,

(01:10):
getting his first guitar, aFender Duo, sonic.
He convinced the group of highschool friends to skip college
and instead focus on their bandSussman Lawrence, in which Peter
was the lead vocalist andguitarist, with a stage presence
both magnetic and undeniable.
In 1985, peter pursued a solocareer, scoring a record deal
and moving to LA, where hismusic videos were in regular

(01:31):
rotation on MTV, and hecontinued his ascent with
releases such as From Strengthto Strength.
He would go on to release 24studio albums, including five
award-winning children's albums,and nearly 20 greatest hits
compilations, live albums andrarities releases.
So why did I call him acontrarian?
Because all of theseaccomplishments, which would

(01:53):
fill another person's lifetime,are only a part of his story.
You see, he may not have hadthe dizzying rise to
superstardom like hisfather-in-law, bob Dylan, but
this was on purpose.
Losing his dad at a young ageand losing his sister to a car
accident, he knew that fame wasnot the end goal.
His priorities centered aroundwhat mattered family and faith,

(02:13):
and utilizing every second.
This would require limiting histour schedule and focusing on
other projects, which he pursuedwith his usual enthusiasm.
So then, why a polymath?
Well, among other projects,peter has scored shows like
Bones, judging Amy and ER innearly two dozen movies.
He's a best-selling author, aprofessional speaker with a

(02:34):
captivating TEDxTalk, a visualartist, streaming pioneer to
show Furious World started inMarch 2008,.
Ivy League lecturer and the CEOand chief dream enabler of Big
News, a consultancy that helpsorganizations unlock their
team's latent creative talent.
Ironically, as someone who maynot have sought the limelight,

(02:55):
peter has been rightfullyrecognized for his contributions
, winning over a dozen awards,in addition to his Emmy and
Grammy nominations, and beingfeatured as the subject of
documentary Rock God A man ofprinciple.
Peter's an observant Jew, whoonce turned down the Tonight
Show because the taping wouldconflict with the Jewish holiday
, sukkot.
Perhaps he inherited this traitfrom his grandmother, mrs

(03:16):
Mildren men himelmen, a belovedcommunity member and activist
who was the first Jewish womanto run for the St Louis Park
City Council.
Or perhaps it was his father,david, the Jewish Marine, who
loomed large in Peter's lifestory and whose untimely passing
pushed Peter to rebuild his ownfamily and rebuilt he did.
Married for over three decades,peter and wife Maria were

(03:38):
connected by her father, bobDillon, as good a matchmaker as
he is a songwriter, apparently,and their hearts are full with
their children and grandchildren, one of whom graced Peter's
album Press On.
So, like I said, a wild rollercoaster of a life, and
especially germane analogy, asPeter knows that he doesn't
always have control of where hislife will take him, but he will

(03:59):
be present with every moment,the ups and the downs, and it
may not be easy at times, but,in his own words, nothing that
matters should ever be easy,should it, peter?
Welcome to the show.

Peter Himmelman (04:11):
Thanks, Max.
What a beautiful writer you are.
First of all, You're burnishingthese little credentials and
making them shine in a way thatmy mom would be ecstatic about.

Max Chopovsky (04:22):
I don't have to do anything to make them shine,
my friend.
They shine with a light alltheir own.
I'm just a documentarian, soyou are here to tell us a story
Before we begin.
Is there anything that weshould know?
Do you want to set the stage?

Peter Himmelman (04:43):
This is a little moment in my life.
It's funny to give a littlecontext to these kind of stories
.
In general, the idea that wehave perhaps trillions upon
trillions of tiny moments in ourlives and so very few of them

(05:05):
are implanted indelibly in ourmemory I'm always interested in
what is it about a certain storythat makes it really stick?
Why did that particular story,that place and time, what about
it created this, as I call it,an indelible memory?
So my dad, whom you just spokenabout, was indeed a really

(05:31):
heroic figure in my life.
Some people that never met himwould say that I idealize him
after he had died.
But because there's so manyother people that were not
related to him that say the samething and totally agree with
this idea that he was a singularperson for whom anyone that was

(05:53):
near him felt empowered, that'sa sort of a rare thing.
There's maybe three generalcategories of people.
The main one, which probablyincludes 99% of people, is it
just come and go and maybe theytalk about the weather.
They don't leave a lastingimpact on us, they're just part

(06:14):
of the scenery.
And then there are those whoare really 0.5, just dreadful,
like viruses, and once you makecontact with them, for reasons
either explicit or unknown, theyjust leave you feeling horrible
, just like shit, likedisempowered.

(06:35):
And then there are people likemy dad, who are similarly few in
number 0.5 out of my 99.9, ifmy math is right who, for some
sort of inexplicable reasons notthat there's some wise words
that were said that no one elsecould say, but by the very power

(06:57):
of their presence can makepeople feel that the doors of
their aspirations, which mayhave been closed for various
reasons, are now swung wide open, at least for the time being.
And I was fortunate enough, byno dint of anything that I did,

(07:18):
and it was purely providentialin my mind, with a capital P,
that I was born to this man.
And I feel people talk aboutthe 1%, or people that had
somebody that's born, a certainhue or something or had a

(07:39):
certain amount of money, thosethings that make life so much
easier for them.
And this is that in the extreme, that I never had anything from
him that wasn't empowering.
He would get mad at me and onetime I was playing the piano,
sort of when I was a kid, and Iwas making too much noise for my

(08:02):
mom and I was trying to likeplay something great, and she
said to me would you stop thatracket from the kitchen?
Or something like that,something that anyone would say,
and because my ego is so huge,I sat under my breath fuck you.
You know I was probably 12.
Well, no one swore in our houseand when my dad had that

(08:25):
information relayed to him, hesmashed me up against the wall
how dare you say that to mywoman?
And while I was being likethrown against the wall even as
I was being thrown against thewall, not like super hard, but
like hard enough to notice Ifelt that was a just thing that
he was doing, because don't bedissing my woman for anything.

(08:51):
I love that and I feel the sameway about my wife.
Just, you know.
So when I was 12, it was beforemy Burmitzvah and my dad had a
sort of a closer relationship insome ways with my older brother
.
They had a lot in common.
My brother started working forhim as a mechanic.

(09:14):
My dad was a serialentrepreneur.
He started a car batterycompany that he thought could
was called Rexon.
He thought it could go upagainst Sears, die Hard.
He had the first eight tracktape store in the Midwest.
You know eight tracks, it wasthe new thing.
He had the first Suzukidealership in the Midwest.

(09:38):
Japanese motorcycles.
When they were like what, whatis that?
They used to call them nooffense to anybody rice burners.
You know horrible ethnic slur.
And he heard about this thingcalled cross country skis and he
started the cross country skichalet.
At one point the eight tracks,the Suzuki's and the cross

(10:01):
country skis were all sold outof one small store.
So you know, he just had ideasthat he was bravely and my mom
was bravely able to allow him todo this, to manifest.
So when he and I would betogether it was sort of a nice
outing, a rare thing.

(10:21):
My dad was also an eagle scout.
He was a Jew that when Iremember somebody had said some
racial slur, you fucking Jew, orsomething, my dad took that guy
and laid him fucking out.
It wasn't a question of don'tsay that again.
My brother and I talk aboutthat like dad never said try

(10:46):
that again If something neededto be dealt with.
There was no second chance.
He did the same thing with someguy that was abusing physically
some woman and that got himnuts.
So we had a special outing.
It was the Eagle Scout and wedecided we would go canoeing on
Cedar Lake.

(11:06):
Minneapolis has many lakes, citylakes, and they're all pretty
lovely, but Cedar Lake had aspecial quality.
It had this beach that therewere beaches for very wealthy
homes and there was one beachstrewn with gravel and weeds and
it was.
We called it.

(11:26):
You know, the Indian beach, theLakota Sioux, you know were.
You know that's who we stoleour land from, basically, and
they were fearsome.
My cousin, jeff Victor, had hisswin stolen.
He was thrown into icy water.
Another guy, mendel Meltzer,was punched in the face by these

(11:50):
people.
So it was terrifying.
They're terrifying people.
You know the story went settingthat up.
So we're canoeing Cedar Lake.
My dad is in the stern, youknow, providing the steering and
everything.
He was a great canoeist.
I wasn't a middling canoeistStill am.

(12:10):
I was in the bow, you know,trying to create some momentum
and we kind of.
It was a beautiful like autumn,you know, early autumn day, and
the trees were just starting toturn and we're just paddling
around and I don't remember whatwe spoke about, you know like.
Pete, you know how's that guitarof yours it's really nice.

(12:33):
He used to come in down in thebasement and hear me play and
I'd turn on the reverb and hesaid why don't you set it all
the settings to five?
Like he knew nothing about rock, but he was really into it, you
know.
And I said, hey, listen to this, dad, I'm putting the reverb on
, it's like I'm in concert.
He was just sit there and laughand he goes.
He said to my mom I don't knowwhere he comes from, bevy, you

(12:56):
know, I basically came straightfrom him, even though he was a
terrible musician, I think itwas tone deaf, literally.
But as we're canoeing you couldhear across the water some sort
of noisy Bakhanal taking place.
The water carried the soundsand I realized this must be a

(13:20):
gathering of these NativeAmerican people that I feared so
much and I knew my dad was notgoing to do anything dangerous.
So obviously we would steerclear of that area, of that
gravel strewn Indian beach, asit were.
But my dad, you know, was inbit back and we were getting

(13:46):
closer to that beach and it wasuncomfortable for me, but my dad
, you know, I trusted that hewouldn't go there.
We got closer and closer and Icould see them on the shore now
and it looked as though we wereheading straight for them.
There was one sort of muscular,shirtless man on the shore

(14:10):
among the crowd of, say, 20 or30 revelers.
They're all men, nativeAmerican men and this shirtless
man dives into the water and hestarts swimming and swimming
quickly.
Well good, swimmer towards ourcanoe.

(14:32):
Now I'm like really afraid.
And he's getting closer and Idon't want to turn around
because if I see my dad afraid Iwill be shitting a brick in
that canoe.
My dad is smiling, laughing.
The muscular shirtless mancomes to the canoe we're still

(14:59):
in motion.
He grabs the gun, whale on theside of the canoe and starts
shaking the canoe, rocking itback and forth.
Now I'm just like what?
And I'm looking at my dad andhe's laughing and he takes the
paddle and he waxed the guy onhis upper back, not like super

(15:25):
hard, like he's trying to hurthim too bad, but definitely hard
enough to make it known thatthis is not a man to fuck with.
The guy lets go of the canoeand kind of swims away.
Now, from what I know of manycultures, the Jewish culture

(15:47):
isn't like this, but manycultures.
The Caribbean culture is likethis Because I've played in
Caribbean bands in my day when Iwas a kid and they would go
down a road and they would playthe kaiso.
I had to throw that littleaccent in there.
There are cultures for whommanliness is a real like
stereotypical manliness is areal important thing.

(16:10):
Now, for those revelers on thebeach to have seen one of their
own get demoralized and have toretreat was the most hilarious
thing they'd ever seen.
And they were laughing theirasses off.
And they were laughing like yougot just pummeled by two white

(16:35):
men in one of our fabrication ofour own native watercraft.
It just was like, and I waslike we got to get the fuck out
of here right now.
And my dad paddles into theshore, right into the midst of

(16:56):
them.
They help drag the canoe up onthe beach.
He sits down with them.
They give him, offer him,because he never drank, you know
, some of the ripple wine, that,that the Mogan David wine that
they had been drinking.
He refused, but they sat withhim and he started talking to

(17:20):
him about, you know, adult shitlike taxes and subsidies and
government stuff that they wereinterested in and they gathered
around my dad.
It was so comfortable that Ibecame bored and I started
making like a little fort, likea little dam with sticks trying

(17:41):
to like trap minnows by the edgeof the water.
When it was time to go, my dadgot off, dusted off his pants
you know, his trousers.
He never wore jeans, god forbidand they gently and peaceably
and graciously pushed our canoeback into the water and my dad

(18:06):
didn't say a damn thing.
We paddled.
You could hear the sound of thetrains running to the north of
us.
You could hear the sound of thelooms.
The sun was beginning to setand we paddled back.
And I just was thinking my dad,he's a master at something that

(18:28):
I couldn't then describe.
He was a bridge builder, he wasfearless and he had incredible
love for people and it taught methat in most situations, not
all an extension of humanity andlove can bring out that love

(18:53):
and humanity in another person.
He was the most instructive dayI've ever had in my life.

Max Chopovsky (19:01):
That's incredible .
That is incredible.
I had no idea where you weregoing with that story and I love
, I love its undulations.
It's fantastic.
So did you ever talk to yourdad about the way he experienced

(19:21):
that day, or at least thatcanoe trip?

Peter Himmelman (19:24):
No, no, I didn't you know sort of the
deepest conversation that I everhad with him.
I mean.
In other words, we were soclose he didn't say like I say
to my kids, I love you.
I don't know that my dad eversaid those words, but there was

(19:45):
no need to have said that.
I mean, it wasn't, it wasaxiomatic.
But when he was in the hospitalhe had lymphoma.
He was diagnosed with stagefour when I was 17.
And it was kind of an upendingof one chapter of my life, the
chapter of things that were justpretty normal and pretty nice.

(20:08):
But I remember him saying to mehe was one of the few people
that called me Pete.
I liked that.
Not very few people do.
And he said you know, pete, hewas probably 53 at the time.
And he said, you know, I just Ifeel like I haven't

(20:28):
accomplished anything with mylife.
And you know he had all thesedreams about one of his
companies was called SilentNight.
He made up the name, you know,silent, with a K Night.
He was very clever with thosethings.
And he made a low cost securitysystem.

(20:49):
The first version, iterationone, was just a camera with a
fake red light that you'd usefor low cost.
You know deterrence.
And then it became moresophisticated and he sold it to
Honeywell.
And he sold it so early.
I mean we were not poor but wewere certainly not even close to

(21:09):
any kind of wealth.
And you know, I never didanything with my life and I said
, dad, you raised a family inwhich every single member of
that family loves one another.
No one is trying to hurt ordisable or seek the besmirching

(21:36):
of one to gain the attention ofanother, or something.
That's a remarkable achievementthat most people will never
attain at any level of money orfame, god knows.
That's like antithetical in somany ways to these kinds of
things.
I don't know if that was movingto my dad, but that was the

(21:57):
truth.
I mean that was the highestachievement.
And I see now you know I'm 64.
So I see how rare that is inany family.
He and my mom I mean I don'tmean to leave my mom out of this
, she was completely a partnerin all this.
I only think about my dad,maybe because he died so young.

Max Chopovsky (22:21):
Isn't it strange tragic is another appropriate
word that the benchmarks bywhich people judge themselves
are sometimes so wrong, soinappropriate, and they fall so
short of their actualaccomplishments, like they don't

(22:45):
give themselves credit forthese things.
You know, we look like, how weidentify ourselves as people.
What are the most importantparts of our identities as we
see them are, for a lot ofpeople, things like professional
accomplishments.
For a lot of entertainers, it'sfame and money, and now it's

(23:05):
followers on Spotify or socialmedia or whatever.
And if you ever think about theperspectives of the other
people in those people'sfamilies, if they're fortunate
enough to have a family, none ofthose people care about those
things.
As I think about it, my kidsdon't care what kind of car I

(23:27):
drive, they don't care what kindof house we live in.
They don't care how much moneywe make, you know, past a
certain point.
They care that I am there withthem, spending time with them,
and they care that I'm present.
And so I think about my lifeand the different perspectives

(23:50):
that are useful to have on mylife.
What I mean by that is there'smy perspective of what I've
accomplished in my life, butthen there's my kids perspective
of what I was like as a fatherwhen they were young.
As they get older, my wife'sperspective of me as sort of the

(24:13):
member of the family and I feellike a lot of the time, the
standards by which we judgeourselves are not only
inappropriate but they're notimportant to the other people in
our life.
It's just that's why use tragicas a word, because your dad said
I feel like I haven't doneanything in my life.

(24:36):
And you said you probablythought to yourself I don't know
if you said this to him outloud, but, dad, you're looking
at it all wrong.
I understand that this is realto you, that to you this feels
like a shortcoming, but to meyou've taught me so many lessons
that you might not even haverealized.
You taught me, like that day onthe canoe that you never talked

(24:58):
about after we came back, butit was one of the most useful
lessons I ever learned in mylife.
I wonder if you ever spoke tohim about that.

Peter Himmelman (25:09):
I think one of the reasons I like to write
songs is because the song actsas kind of a duck blind behind
which I can hide and sayanything I want.
So you know my dad.
His prognosis was like I don'tknow what, like a year, and he

(25:30):
lived for four years and at theend I had been playing in my
band.
I was 23 years old, or 22 atthe time, and we were playing
some of my greatest hits.
I'm your fireman, show me whereyou're burning.
I'll be there to hose you down.
I'm your, torture me all nightlong, love me tough, love me

(25:52):
strong.
These are different songs.
Torture me and fireman this isone of our hits cigarette, baby,
let me be your cigarette.
Puffa, puffa, puffa till my tipgets wet.
Light me up and, baby, don'tfret because, girl, I wanna be
your cigarette.
I mean, these were funny, crazysongs that you would definitely
get canceled for now.
But I was also writing othersongs which were kind of the

(26:16):
precursor to what I'm doing now.
So on one of these occasions,while my dad was like at the end
it was the night beforeFather's Day, it was Saturday
night we were playing at somelike the country dam, at some
place in Wisconsin and I wasliving at home in the basement

(26:36):
when we weren't on the road andI got home after playing
cigarette and torture me andthere was gonna be a party for
my dad, my mom had said you needto cheer him up, write a funny
song for dad.
I can make a funny song prettyeasily and I got home and shit,
they didn't write a funny song.

(26:57):
I think by tie or cologne orwhatever you're supposed to buy
on Father's Day, therefrigerator's full of like
locks and bagels because thecousins would soon be coming.
It's like it's four or five inthe morning now and I'm sure
you've had these moments as awriter.
I know you have where you're,just things just come to you and

(27:18):
you just hold a basket andthere they fall.
And that happens to me, it'shappened many times and I
started picking on this finger,picking on this nylon string
guitar and sort of.
I was in the basement.
I could see through the windowwell, that the sun was starting
to come up and the cords.

(27:39):
You know that I was playing andI was just tired.
I was still in my stage clothes, it was.
They had just sweat, had driedon the way home on the to our
ride and I start writing and Irealize I'm writing a song about
my dad.
And I finished the song and Ihad this four track cassette

(28:03):
board of studio which I recordedall my demos on and I wanted to
record the song because Iwanted to play it at the party.
Kind of a strange way of me tojust cut through the shit and I
record the song and at the end Istart to cry.

(28:26):
And there's me crying at 22 or23 at the end of the song and I
I debate for a second Should Irecord it over like a better
tier free version?
And I said, fuck it, I'mleaving it.
The cousins now come.

(28:47):
It's 10 o'clock, the locks andthe bagels and the Tropicana
orange juice, everything's out.
And I come upstairs and mymom's like did you write a song
for dad?
I'm like I did and I throw thecassette on and so strange.
It must have been my mood or myeyes or something like that.

(29:12):
But as soon as the tape hisscame on before the song, people
started to cry.
Everyone left the room when thesong came out because no one
wanted to say this is happening.
It was just my father and melistening.

(29:35):
And then we held each other andcried.
We held each other and criedwhile the song played, and he
carried the cassette with him inhis Muntzingwear shirt in the
pocket for a month until he diedand they played that song at

(29:57):
his funeral.
So then I moved to New Yorkafter he died because that was
our plan and we're still tryingto get baby.
Let me be your cigarette andall those songs that were
playing at Warner Brothers.
People were debating whether tosign us or not and they didn't,
and I was like sort of bummedthat they didn't know.

(30:19):
I'm in retrospect, god.
Thank God they didn't.
I'm still at the play.
That shit, my kids would hateme.
They probably wouldn't evenhave been born because my wife
wouldn't have married me.
But I got a call around thistime while we were living in the
band house like the monkeys inRidgewood, new Jersey, where all
the band had moved because wecouldn't afford New York.

(30:42):
And this woman's name is RuthGrosh and she had been a woman
who paid me several, severalthousand dollars when I was like
18 to compose music for a teddybear called Spinoza Bear with
these uplifting themes that waslater used in like crisis

(31:04):
centers.
There was a woman whose childhad never spoken, never looked
at anyone and was like in alocked in syndrome, and she
wrote me a letter.
This is the only one I rememberbecause there were many letters
.
The first time my child got upand walked and hugged something

(31:25):
other than himself was to thisbear and I wanna thank you for
bringing the child out.
I never thought much about thisbear really, because it just
was some money for me and something you know that could get us
to New York.
Well, ruth Grosh, who was thebrains behind the bear, called
me and said I've just been intouch with psychics this is

(31:50):
about like eight months after mydad died and they asked me a
disturbing question.
I told him about you and theysaid does he want to remain on
the planet.
We feel that his life is goingto be short.
I'm like holy shit, I'm sittingthere with a phone stretched

(32:13):
into the living room, you know,with a cord, because before
cordless phones and she saidwould you like to come and meet
these people?
It's a husband and wife.
I'm like not really, but Iguess.
So you know, I'm gonna be inMinneapolis in a week anyway.
So we met Ruth took me she hadlike new age music on the way to

(32:34):
Northern suburb of Minneapolisand we meet the two psychics.
And it's a husband and wifelike tag team and it was just
like weird.
They had sort of a plush carpetin their apartment.
And then we go upstairs andthey sit me in this kind of faux
leather chair and they're bothlike on either side of me and

(32:57):
they play a little game and thegame was name a person and I'll
tell you about that person.
So, number one I asked aboutthis girlfriend I had, and they
gave me some like pretty goodinformation, but you know,
whatever, I'm not buying it.
And then my cousin, jeff Victor,who plays in a lot of my albums

(33:19):
.
He's one of my best friends, agenius, literal, using the word
you know with discipline Geniusmusician, genius person, by the
way, any genius musician is agenius person, it's goes to say,
in any subject.
And he has suffered fromchildhood with these ticks, like
facial ticks and he's kind offunny about them, and in hands

(33:42):
and there were different tickswhere he'd raise his hand, like
up, he couldn't control his handfrom going up, stretching up,
and we keep called that recklessgreeter.
Another one was called roundthe world and his eyes would
spin round, round, round.
Another one was Southerner,where he couldn't control his

(34:03):
thumb from, like turning downdown south that we call it
Southerner.
So I said to the psychics okay,jeff, not Jeff, victor, just
Jeff.
Now this was freaky.
The man and the woman stare ateach other.
The first thing they say is hecan't stop, stop the music it's

(34:25):
pouring out of him at all times.
The man's eyes start rollinglike round the world.
I'm like what in the fuck isgoing on?
The woman's hands are going uplike reckless greeter.
I'm like holy shit.

(34:47):
She says, well, ask one morename.
The morning that I left for thispsychic experience, my mom was
at home.
I was staying with her.
She was the only one at homenow my siblings had moved out.
She was going on her first datesince my dad had died.

(35:10):
Maybe it had been a year and ahalf or I don't know what it was
.
He was the contra base playerof the Minneapolis Symphony and
I've never seen my mom like this.
She was flitting around thehouse like nervous, like a
school girl, and trying onoutfits.
It was just.
It was very off putting, but Iunderstood that my mom needed to

(35:32):
get back to life.
She'd suffered so grievouslyand it was.
I'd never seen anything likethis.
And I said to the psychicsBeverly, they start giggling
Whenever adults giggle.
It's strange.
But when they're giggling inconcert with one another about

(35:59):
the name of my mother, whichthey don't know who it is, it's
really weird.
The woman says she's excitedabout something, but she's also
very nervous about whether it'sright.
The man giggles and said she'sacting like and I quote, a

(36:20):
school girl.
I'm like, okay, the jig is up,I'm over, okay.
So then they get into it.
How do they broach the subject?
Am I out, me dying?
The man says is it your wish toleave the planet?
And I think about it, becauseI'm now aware that I'm so lost,

(36:47):
so dizzyingly depressed, thatmaybe not really, but it needs
to be considered.
And I wait a little longer thanone might.
And I say it is not my wish, Idon't wish to leave the planet.

(37:07):
And the woman says we both feelthat by playing pop songs to
get a record deal, you aredenying something of your
essence and in so doing you areshortening your own life.
You love the blues, you lovereggae, you love meaningful

(37:32):
things and all of a sudden, likea train in the dark, like the
rrrrk, I'd never thought aboutthat song that I'd written for
my dad.
It was in a closet, on acassette somewhere.
I never did anything, it wasmeaningless to me, it was just a
memory.
It wasn't a song that anyonewould wanna hear on the radio or

(37:54):
something.
I said there's this song that Iwrote for my dad and it said
very apropos, long-windedly, ofyour question.
It said everything I everwanted to say to my dad and he
heard it.
And they said I think youshould put that out as a single.

(38:16):
And I said I'm putting it outas an album around other songs
of meaning.
And that album got me my firstrecord deal on Island Records.

Max Chopovsky (38:31):
Have you ever read?
Have you read Just Kids byPatty Smith?

Peter Himmelman (38:36):
Sure yeah, I have.

Max Chopovsky (38:39):
What I find so interesting about that book is
it all seems to make sense ifyou look at it in hindsight.
Well, of course they were inthis place at this time and they
were at the Chelsea whereeverybody hung out, and of
course they increased theirchances of running into the
right people.
But as it was happening, sheand Robert had no idea that any

(39:05):
of that was going to happen.
Looking forward, it's likeSteve Jobs said in his 2005
Stanford commencement speech youcan only connect the dots
looking backward.
But that's of littleencouragement to the person
who's looking forward and hasall these dots that are flying
around that they have no ideahow to connect.

(39:26):
And I just started reading thisbook called 4000 Weeks by this
guy named Oliver Bergman, andthe title of the book is sounds
like a self-help book becauseit's something like time
management for mortals orsomething like that.
But what he talks about is wewant to harness time in a way to

(39:50):
squeeze every possible bit ofefficiency out of every second
of every day, and that is notonly futile but
counterproductive, because whatwe have to do is to accept the
fact that we'll never pleaseeverybody, we'll never get

(40:12):
everything done, we'll never getto inbox zero, we'll never get
an A in every class.
And once you accept that factthat there are some inalienable
truths that are contrary to thestories that you've been telling

(40:33):
yourself it'll actually take amassive weight off your
shoulders, because then you'lljust be able to live your life
without trying to control everysingle day.
And I think that it sounds likethat's what you learned

(40:53):
relatively early on in life thatactually a song that you might
have written that was just meantto be a conversation with your
dad, and then you put it away,right, because it had served its
purpose, or so you thought.
That was the song that finallygot you to a place, to a

(41:19):
milestone that other music thatyou had been writing could not
get you, because you went withthe flow.
And I think there's alsosomething to be said about the
fact that that song probablycame from a really, really
personal space and, as you said,it just started coming out of

(41:43):
you and you just held out thebasket for all the fruits to
start falling into it, right?
It's like Rick Rubin says asartists we are just receptacles
for the source and when it comesat us, you just have to receive
and keep receiving until itstops, because it will stop.
And so what you did there is,as I can tell, is leaned into

(42:05):
that unpredictability, gave upthe control and said, well,
maybe this is the song, maybethis is the song that I want
other people to see the light of, to hear it, you know, for it
to see the light of day.

Peter Himmelman (42:19):
I'm going to go back if I made it something
you're talking about where thefamilies didn't receive that
kind of love, or wede-prioritize the things that we
in some some days of the yearor special holidays that we do
realize those are the prioritiesfamily love, togetherness.

(42:40):
The way that I see it and youknow this is talking a little
bit about my Jewish practice of,you know, 37 years the way that
I look at things, and I lookedat these things, by the way,
when, this way, when I was achild, not in any sophisticated

(43:02):
terminology that's why my sortof return to Judaism not that I
ever converted out of it, butyou know to think about it as a
relevant source.
That's why it was so easy forme, because it was so familiar.
And one of the things that wasfamiliar is that I sensed a
duality within me, and I'm goingto give it terms that maybe

(43:25):
sound anachronistic to some ofyour listeners, and you know the
ones who are very sophisticated.
I never went to college, by theway, so my, I never got tainted
by anything too badly.
But there's a duality.
Call it I won't use wordsspirit, but call it essence.
There's essence which isundefinable, it's eternal, and

(43:52):
that essence is sort of ourconsciousness or our cognition.
Some people just relegate it tosome sort of electromagnetic
frequencies in the brain andthey all disappear when we die.
I granted that's oneprobability.
It's not one that I think is asprobable as that there is a

(44:13):
creator with a capital C that'smaking everything happen at this
time.
That's just a thing that makesmore sense to me.
But the duality is one is ofessence, of meaning, and one is
our physical bodies.
And why is it that weprioritize things?
And I do the same thing.

(44:34):
I'm not like some sort ofperson who has grown out of this
, I'm struggling with it all thetime.
I'm generally a total asshole.
But why do we as human beingsgravitate so easily to those
things Like we want thisacknowledgement, we want this,
whatever it is that we want on aphysical level?

(44:54):
Because we're physical beings.
And if we don't pay someattention to this essence of
ourselves and when I mean payattention, I mean pay attention
like a classical pianist playsattention to piano every single
day and practice for hours a daymaking that attention to

(45:17):
essence become a regular,prioritized part of one's day,
that sense of essence will fadeaway.
The forces of entropy which actupon everything, will certainly
act upon that as well, at leastas it's manifested in our lives
, and then we will be left notwith a 50-50 ratio of essence to

(45:42):
meet sack, let's say temporal,corporeal being.
We will have 99 meat pack andmaybe just a flicker of essence.
And one of the jobs that I seehumanity needs to take and for
sure I'm part of it and, like Isaid, I'm an asshole most of the

(46:03):
time needs to work on isidentifying that essence, which
isn't like yoga, by the way, orsomething that's going to make
me a more flexible person.
It's not about personhood here.
It's not about selfishness,it's not about self like
self-magazine.
That was when you knew societywas going off the rails.

(46:26):
I want to strengthen myself inthat essential part of me, not
only for myself and not only formy family, which is a huge
priority, but for anyone that Iencounter in the world.
It isn't about I'm going to dothis therapy for me.

(46:46):
I just want to have some metime.
There's too much fucking metime, I got to tell you, and
that is why you see thisdisparity, with people
prioritizing the meat sack overthe essence.

Max Chopovsky (47:03):
It's so funny you say that because in this book,
4000 weeks, this guy, the authorOliver, he talks about your
tendency to control everything,including your schedule means
that you're putting yourselfahead of others.
And there's something to besaid about giving up certain
loss of control by being amember of a community, because

(47:23):
then you have to adjust to otherpeople and their needs and
their desires and theirschedules.
And I was just thinkingactually this morning about
there's this quote about I can'tremember the exact quote, but
it's something about if you goby yourself, you'll go farther.
If you go with other people Ican't remember the exact quote,

(47:45):
but it basically implies thatyou're better off with other
people.
You might not go as far butyou'll have a better experience.
And I think that's dead on.

Peter Himmelman (47:56):
What is going farther mean?
I'm not saying and I know it'sa metaphor but what does it mean
to go far?
What exactly happens?
You know, let's say that Idrive a car to Cleveland.
Well, you know, now I can fly,which is great.

(48:17):
Now I can fly first class,which is like really great and
they give you like a better kindof water or something in a
glass.
Now I want to fly private and Ifeel really special and I feel
like I'm at something.
But damn it, after the thirdtime I'm flying private, I keep

(48:40):
looking at my watch and when thefuck are we going to get to
Cleveland?
I'm back the same way.
In other words, thesequantitative measurements,
including going farther inquotes, they don't get us
anywhere.
I mean up into a point.
I mean, if you're not able toput food on your table and you

(49:01):
know there is that point povertysucks.

Max Chopovsky (49:05):
Let me change a letter going further with the
you not farther.

Peter Himmelman (49:10):
I like that, and that implies something to do
with depth as well.
And I wasn't contradicting whatyou said in terms of just
bringing a point about the race.
And how do I know this racesucks and everything Like?
I do it all the time.
I haven't graduated it,graduated from it.
Even today I'm like got to getthis done.

(49:33):
Blah, blah, blah.
I asked myself why do I do allthis stuff?
And I finally had a good answermy cousin whom I mentioned,
jeff Victor, with the Southerner.
He said to my wife you knowwell, peters does all this stuff
.
He doesn't really care whatpeople think, he just does it,
which is totally untrue.

(49:54):
I'm just unmoored if somebodydoesn't like what I do.
And I said that he goes.
Well, why do you keep doing it?
And I had to think about it.
The only reason I keep doing itis just feels good.
It's one of the things I do inlife, like painting or whatever

(50:14):
it is that just makes me happy.
And if I'm happier, I'm betterable to get in touch with this
essence.

Max Chopovsky (50:22):
Honestly, sometimes it's that simple.
I think people just they justovercomplicate it.
And there's no need tocomplicate it, because the
essence of a lot of things issimplicity, right.
It's simplifying to stillthings down to their essence.
The truth crystallizes, right.
So, like when I was backpackingthrough Europe, I went

(50:43):
backpacking a couple of times.
One time I was by myself.
I happened to have a few weeksbetween one job and my other job
, which was my first job inChicago, and I wanted to go
backpacking in Europe and Icouldn't find anybody to go with
me.
So I just went by myself and Ijust remember thinking, man,
it's great that I didn't haveanybody else's schedule to think
about or what anybody elsewanted to do, and just I could

(51:07):
make my own plans and dowhatever I wanted to do, and I
would meet people along the wayand it would be great.
And I did do a lot.
I saw a lot of things, I met alot of people.
But now, as I think back on thatI realized and this is what I
mean by going further with a youI realized that I might not
have seen as many places had Igone with somebody else.

(51:30):
I might not have stayed in asmany cities or visited as many
landmarks, but I would have hadsomebody else that would have
shared this experience with me,and I would trade that for the
solo journey.
Not that there's not a time forsolitude I certainly enjoy my

(51:54):
fair share of solitude but to meit's a matter of I would rather
see less, but see it withothers that we could then have a
shared experience together, andit's an interesting evolution
of my perspective.
It's beautiful.

Peter Himmelman (52:13):
I mean it's perfectly clear.

Max Chopovsky (52:17):
I think that only happens with age.

Peter Himmelman (52:20):
I was lying in bed last night you know my wife
always falls asleep before I doand I'm thinking about just
again, essence, the simplicityand things that we take for
granted also goes into the meatpack zone and I'm thinking to
myself how nice it is to havesomebody in my bed every night

(52:49):
that I trust with my life andeverything in it that I love
more than anyone in the worldjust next to me.
You know I didn't tell her that, but I mean, it's just, it's so
simple.
Somebody said to me the otherday it's like at school, and he

(53:11):
goes you know, I used to be amashgiyach in a lemon oil
factory.
A mashgiyach is somebody thatchecks to see that everything's
kosher.
Somebody didn't bring, like youknow, pork in there and he said
you know, I got lemon oil on myhand.
Now the lemon oil that you getin the bottle that you buy is

(53:31):
not real lemon oil, it's somehowdiluted.
He goes.
The lemon oil, which is theessence of the lemon, was so
strong that on my fingertip Ismell lemon for a month.
And he was sort of saying youknow this?
This idea of this distillationof self, of it appears even in

(53:55):
nature.
There is something immutableabout one's essence, something
so incredibly powerful.
And it's shrouded, it's gotblankets on it, even in the most
sort of essence related people.

(54:16):
And I'm just thinking now for asecond.
If for some reason we werecourageous enough because it's
only our courage that's lack ortherefore that prevents us from
having the essence shine.
There's another Jewish ideawhich is interesting Panim and

(54:38):
panemius.
Those are two related words.
Panem is the word for face,panemius is the essence.
The goal of a person is to maketheir face, meaning their
outward appearance, exactly astheir essence is.
Kill the filter.

(54:59):
Kill the filter hashtag.
Kill the filter.
Kill the filter Kill the filterfish.

Max Chopovsky (55:06):
Well, one comment on what you were talking about
with your wife.
People say, now, my partnerright, which I guess I
understand why they do that.
But it's always sounded strangeto me like, oh, my partner and
I are going to do this like,well, your husband, your wife,
like, who are we talking about?
But now I'm actually startingto lean into that term and

(55:29):
ascribe a deeper meaning to it,which is they really are your
partner right, like they areyour partner in the truest sense
of the word, that you travelthis journey with them, and in
those travels your bond becomesdeeper and the partnership
really sort of evolves andmatures.
So it's funny how you can glean, you know, little nuggets of

(55:53):
wisdom from daily life whichobviously you as an artist have
gotten good at, because you know, I feel like that's what good
artists are.
They're people that seeeverything that everybody else
sees, but they see deeper intoit, understand its essence and
then, through their own filter,put that essence back out into

(56:14):
the world.
And that's why people, whenthey hear a song that has really
poignant lyrics, are like, ohmy God, this person really gets
me, you know, like this.
I've just found that reallyfascinating.
My grandfather was a poet and ajournalist and he was the
artistic nucleus of our familyand as a Jewish journalist it
was very difficult for him toactually become successful

(56:39):
because he was a Jew.
But he did.
And when we moved to America in1992, in 1993, the paper that
he was working at was offered tohim to be the editor of that
paper and he turned it downbecause they wanted to come join
us in America.
But he's written dozens ofbooks of poetry and prose in

(57:00):
addition to his journalisticwork, and what I've always found
is that the poignants withwhich he's able to, the skill
with which he's able to harnessthe Russian language, which is
hard enough as it is, but thento use that tool to achieve such
poignants where, if you readhis poetry and just think to

(57:23):
yourself, damn, I'm not alone,somebody else feels this, and
the way that he said this justspeaks to me in an incredible
way.
And my grandfather?
We lost him to cancer as wellbecause, as a crazy story, when
Chernobyl exploded in 1986 andwe were evacuated from Kiev, he,
being a reporter, was sent tothe reactor.

(57:44):
He flew over it, for this was48 hours after it exploded and
he was sent there to document it, and he was exposed to
unhealthy doses of radiation andhe wrote this whole effectively
expose that ended up turninginto this book called Chernobyl

(58:07):
Bitter Grass.
He wrote in Ukrainian and mostof it was redacted by the
government because obviouslynobody wanted the public to know
of the colossal failures thatprecipitated the disaster.
He was the same way, in that hewas able to sort of model this

(58:28):
ideal behavior for our familywithout being pedantic or
prescriptive about it.
He was just the man he was and,just like your dad, he was a
product of his time.
Life was harder back then, andso the people that came out of
that environment just had adifferent perspective on things.

(58:52):
So I just think that it wasinteresting, because there are
certain of us are lucky to havepeople in our families that have
the right priorities and havean incredibly, just, an
incredible philosophy right, andI feel like you and I have that
in common.
For you it was your dad.
For me it was my grandfather.

(59:12):
I just think that we're veryfortunate in that respect.

Peter Himmelman (59:17):
Yeah, I mean, I can see where you got your
writerly sensibilities Strictlyfrom him.
That's model behavior, that'sprivilege.
That's the word I was lookingfor.

Max Chopovsky (59:29):
Really is, it really is?

Peter Himmelman (59:31):
I mean check my privilege.
I'd have checked it and Ifucking love it.
What can I say?

Max Chopovsky (59:38):
When you have a duty to pursue it on some level,
have a responsibility for I'mvery cognizant of that.

Peter Himmelman (59:44):
It's not just like I feel very motivated by
that idea.

Max Chopovsky (59:50):
That's exactly right.
So let's go back to the canoestory for a bit.
What would you say is the moralof that story?

Peter Himmelman (01:00:02):
Don't be afraid to give of yourself.
Don't be afraid to show thelove that you have.
The rewards are incredible andunknowable for oneself and for
the world.

Max Chopovsky (01:00:20):
Couldn't agree more, and the earlier the better
, and you'll, most of the time,have to lead with that
vulnerability, but it's worth it10 times out of 10.
Why did you choose that story?

Peter Himmelman (01:00:33):
Well, just I heard you talking about my dad
in the intro.
It could have been another anumber of stories, but you know
you set it up.
Something that was meaningfulto me.
I mean I have a lot of stories.
It's funny when you write aboutyour own life.
It's kind of easy.
Some things have just happenedto me.

(01:00:54):
The people that I've, you knowwe came from a very small house,
like in a suburb and the peoplethat I've met.
You know I look at the word inHebrew, haskah aprotit.
It means like divine providence, and that I do see now.
In that sense, I mean, I'velearned enough to know that, for

(01:01:18):
example, I'm playing a show inChicago soon and I know that my
ostensible reason is to go playa show.
But I also know and I know itvery well I will be astute to
looking out for reasons beyondthe ostensible, and they always

(01:01:41):
appear, and many.
They appear in many myriad ways.
Wherever I go, it's just likeyou and I are talking right now,
or ostensibly, I'm doing aninterview with you, something on
my schedule.
That's the practical side, thatwould be called the meat sack
side, but there's somethingessential here.
It could be.

(01:02:01):
I hope it is that you and Iforge a really solid friendship
and that will transcend time andplace and it will lead to many
other things.
I'm aware of that, and I'maware of that even when I'm with
you, and it doesn't stop mefrom doing my meat pat job.
It only helps.

Max Chopovsky (01:02:23):
Well, I would absolutely love that.
That would be incredible.
What's interesting about life,I think, is that any of us, if
we do it well, we are collectors.
We're collectors of stories,we're collectors of
relationships, we're collectorsof memories, we're collectors of
experiences, and in order tocollect, we have to be able to

(01:02:48):
receive and we have to be ableto experience, to be in that
moment, to truly, truly collectsomething.
And I've struggled with that inthe past because oftentimes,
with all of the meat sack, partsof that take up so much of your
bandwidth.
You're thinking about what'snext on the calendar, what am I

(01:03:11):
making for dinner tonight?
You're thinking about all thesesort of banal things which, by
the way, are all part of thehuman experience and not to
discount them whatsoever butsometimes they just take up so
much bandwidth that it's hard tobe a collector.
I suppose maybe that ties backto this whole 4,000 weeks theory
, which maybe we just have to beokay with, the understanding

(01:03:35):
that we won't be able to collecteverything, but the things that
we collect, we're going toreally, really collect them.

Peter Himmelman (01:03:41):
Right and you don't even have to work on it,
viscerally implanted in one'smind, you don't have to.
In other words, it would becontradictory to work on your
collection experience In someway.
The things that happen that arecollection worthy, it would

(01:04:02):
seem I'm just surmising herethey're so inordinately special
or connective that the body andthe mind goes into like a
different state automatically.
And I worry that if I formyself, if I had this cognizance
or this desire to trap it, Iwould miss the sort of

(01:04:26):
automation, the automaticmodality, and I would go into
this intellectualizing, thiskind of like writing a song, if
you're intellectualizing as youwrite, in the same way, when
you're writing your prose, yourbeautiful prose, you reserve
much of the intellectualizingfor the editorial process.

(01:04:46):
But even then you don't want tobe completely intellectual and
it would seem it could be afearful thing for people to just
let go of their intellect andallow this sort of subconscious
thing to take over.
This is another quick point.
It's not an unfamiliar thing,it's not the provenance of

(01:05:10):
artists.
We dream for a quarter of ourlives.
We're dreaming that we'rebackwards on a penguin, you know
nude.
You know trying to whistle inPortuguese or whatever it is.
You know, yeah, his name isStan Morgenthau.
He is a very, very serious man.
He's an actuary.
Stan Morgenthau was dreamingthis hypothetical man that he'd

(01:05:34):
just taken a shit at hisgrandmother's house at Passover.
You know, on the floor, youknow he's not as normal as you
think he is, and to allow thosethings to sort of rise up, dream
, let's say a creative processnot at the sader is a wonderful
thing, it's a necessary thing.

Max Chopovsky (01:05:56):
Well, here's what I mean by working on the
collection.
You do, I think, have to workon it to the extent that that
work is training yourself how tobe open to collecting all of
these things at any given moment, because not all of them are
going to be such instances ofdivine providence as to smack

(01:06:17):
you over the head with it and belike, well, that's obviously a
fucking beautiful sunset.
It's like if you're in a canoe,let's say, and you're moving
down the river and you put yourhand in the water because you
hope that some fish will brushup against it and you'll be able
to tell your friends that, ohman, I felt this fish in the
water as I was canoeing.

(01:06:39):
But you're missing the pointthat, actually, what if it's
just about having your hand inthe water and feeling the water
on your hand, and maybe that'sthe experience you're collecting
?

Peter Himmelman (01:06:48):
Right, not the friend telling.
One thing I found is verytechnical, very practical.
Remembering is that I'vewritten down so many stories, so
many things and I've writtensongs about them, so they're
fresh.
Some of them are more fresh inmy memory than my daily life.

(01:07:11):
It's another weird thing.
My parents and my older siblingslived in a house on Medicine
Lake in Minnesota.
Medicine Lake used to be kindof a woodseed place, a silvan
area.
Now it's just like a suburb.
My dad was a deputy sheriff.
He had a gun and once he agiant snapping turtle and they

(01:07:34):
move fast and they can easilybite off a limb of a child was
heading toward the beach reallyfast where the kids were playing
and my dad got out his rifleand aimed and shot it under the
carapace and killed the turtlebefore it could get into the
water.
And the reason I mention it isbecause that image and the trees

(01:08:01):
and the water, it's so clear.
I was never there.
It's only a story, but I'veembraced the story to the extent
that it's become part of mymemory.
That's the power of a story.

Max Chopovsky (01:08:19):
Let's talk about stories for a minute.
You are a storyteller andyou've heard some fantastic
stories as well, some memorablestories like the one you just
told.
What do good stories have incommon?

Peter Himmelman (01:08:31):
They have unique characteristics.
That is like saying absolutelynothing.
You're taking me somehow bothinto the minutiae of the
environment and of the languagethat was spoken, to the extent
possible, of the smells and thesensory aspects.
You're taking me into the world, but you're also taking me into

(01:08:54):
the mind and the insights ofwhoever is in that story.
Now, this is something a moviecan't do.
They try it as a cheap deviceto do a voiceover.
The story itself, I feel, isless important than the way

(01:09:17):
those two things are told.

Max Chopovsky (01:09:21):
I really like that, because those two things
allow the listener to build thatown world in their mind and
that's how they can remember thelake and the trees, even if
they weren't there to see thesnapping turtle get shot.

Peter Himmelman (01:09:35):
When I was in eighth grade I was really into
tropical fish.
I was a budding ichtheologist.
I even got it was calledTropical Fish Hobbyist and it
came monthly and it was like, ohmy God, herbert J Axelrod, he
was like the author, he was areal ichtheologist and the tank
would be glowing and I put onRadio Mystery Theater.

(01:09:58):
It was such a great thing andit wasn't television, you know,
because you had, as you said,you had to create the story in
your head, so it was a moreinteractive experience.
That's why people dig podcastsso much.

(01:10:18):
No one imagined that pure audiowould in some ways overtake
audio and visual together.

Max Chopovsky (01:10:27):
Well, video killed the radio star, but then
radio came back with a fuckingvengeance.
It did, it did.
So last couple of questionswhat is one of your favorite
books, or a couple of yourfavorite books, that just nails
storytelling?

Peter Himmelman (01:10:45):
One of my favorite authors.
Maybe you know Isaac Babel.
No, he's a Russian author andhe was, you know, I guess,
disappeared by the Soviets for awhile and after, you know,
posthumously, you know, revivedhis work.
His work is by far my favoritewriting.

(01:11:06):
He has a group of storiescalled the Red Cavalry Stories.
I wish I had the right here.
I usually have a copy, I have acouple copies of it, and it was
the time that he was ajournalist with the, you know,
when the Russians were fightingthe Poles, you know, just around
, I think.
It was like in the 1920s, andhis use of language is so spare.

(01:11:32):
Now it's being translated fromthe Russian and the translator
is excellent, but the use oflanguage is so spare and
haunting and the most horrificthings are described with the
least amount of garish language.

(01:11:53):
His quote, if I get it right,is something like nothing
pierces the heart, like awell-placed period.
I love that.
I love that.

Max Chopovsky (01:12:10):
I love that.
It's visually so striking asyou imagine it, but it's also.
It also makes perfect sense.

Peter Himmelman (01:12:17):
Yeah, for any writer, you get that and it's.
You know, when I think ofsongwriting, I tell I teach
songwriting.
Once in a while I said you guysare writers, so it's no
different than a sportsjournalist.
Your language has to be reallygood.
If it's colloquial language,like I ain't going down there,
that's fine.
But you have to know that too.

(01:12:38):
You know you have to work withthe language.
That's.
You know Wittgenstein's quote.
I think it was like our worldis just as large as the as our
language, or something like that.
It's, you know, it's a betterquote than that.
That's basically it.
It defines the size of ourworld.

Max Chopovsky (01:13:01):
Totally yeah.
You've got to be in support ofwhatever goal you're pursuing,
and by goal I mean what do youwant the audience to take away?
What do you want them to feel?
So does every story have tohave a moral?
And if it doesn't have a moral,is it still a good story?

Peter Himmelman (01:13:20):
I don't think every story has to have a moral
or maybe another inverse way toask that is every story in some
way moralistic, without it beingsort of a cautionary tale or a
morality play of some sort?
I'm not sure.
I mean, does every story have alesson to be taken away?

(01:13:44):
I mean, it depends how creativeyou are.
I could draw a lesson out oflike anything, I suppose.
So yeah, I mean, there's, inother words, there's certain
things that are moralistic bynature.
I don't really like those kindsof things.
I don't like when a moral isspelled out too concretely.

(01:14:05):
You know, I want to hearsomething that doesn't seem to
point in the direction of moralsand I want to draw that
conclusion for myself, and whenI do, I will feel it much more
deeply.

Max Chopovsky (01:14:20):
And as the artist creating a story that may not
have a moral being crammed downthe throat of the audience, you
are showing a higher level ofrespect for your audience, even
though you have to give upcontrol over the moral that's
being given to them.

Peter Himmelman (01:14:35):
It's so true.
I always think, like being onstage, you need to assume that
the audience is superintelligent, because human
beings, even ones that are, youknow, we might consider oh you
guys, he's pretty stupid.
Their intuition, theirintuitive powers are huge.

(01:14:58):
They're strong, they can feel.
When something lacks veracity,you know.
You get up on stage.
That's when you've alreadygotten your credibility by the
way you stand on stage.

Max Chopovsky (01:15:13):
You got to let them come to their own
conclusions sometimes, and thatmakes it so much more fulfilling
for them and also it makes itmore universally applicable,
because everybody might come toa different conclusion.

Peter Himmelman (01:15:26):
What does it feel like to fail?
It's like asking a boxer whatdoes it feel like to be punched.
Every boxer in every fight isgetting punched all the time.
It's not pleasant, but it'spart of the gig, and if you're
not doing it you're probablyboring.

Max Chopovsky (01:15:43):
All right, Pete.

Peter Himmelman (01:15:46):
Yeah, I love it .

Max Chopovsky (01:15:47):
I'll let you call me, pete I say it cautiously
because I'm on hallowed groundhere, because I'm not a Jewish
Marine.
But one last question for youIf you could say one thing to
your 20-year-old self, whatwould it be?

Peter Himmelman (01:16:04):
Same thing I'd say to my 64-year-old self Be
courageous, understand that youare being given gifts by God
that need to be disseminated.
Speak up, speak out, walk, move, have agency, be afraid, but be

(01:16:27):
courageous and do it anyway.

Max Chopovsky (01:16:30):
Hell yes, hell yes.
What a way to end the episode.
Have agency, be courageous, beafraid and do it anyway.
That does it, peter Himelman.
Thank you for being on the show, man.

Peter Himmelman (01:16:49):
Max, what a pleasure, what a Machia.

Max Chopovsky (01:16:52):
It was absolutely amazing For show notes and more
head over to maspodorg.
Find us on Apple Podcasts,spotify, wherever you get your
podcast on.
This was Morrill of the Story.
I'm Max Tropowski.
Thank you for listening.
Talk to you next time.