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November 19, 2015 - Image 9

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The Michigan Daily

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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
the b-side
Thursday, November 19, 2015 — 3B

By JACOB RICH

Daily Film Editor

“You know, sometimes, I’d

bring, like, four strippers to the
radio show after work to party
with us. So they were there for,
like, five minutes, and I went
outside to have a cigarette. When
I came back in, the four girls were
beelining out of there. ‘Oh my god,
we’ve got to get out of there,’ they
were saying, and, I’m like, ‘What,
what?’ and there’s Bob, pants
down, pubic hair on fire.”

I can’t stop laughing. I’m

Skyping with University alum
Dee Simon, author and co-host
of the “Sick and Wrong” podcast,
and he’s telling me a story about
his brief experience working as
the host of a metal radio show in
San Francisco.

“Wait, his pubes were still on

him?” I return. “He didn’t cut
them off first?”

“No, he was, like, lighting

his dick on fire. Bob was a vile
creature.”

Dee Simon is every Michigan

parent’s worst nightmare.

Rather than file into line with

the rest of the doctors, lawyers
and engineers the University
churns out every year, Simon
(real name David Scott) decided
that he wanted to do something
different with his University of
Michigan degree. He wanted to
have his own radio show.

And, for a while, he did. After

graduating from the University in
1997 with a dual degree in English
and Broadcast Communications
(and a few Michigan Daily Arts
articles under his belt), Dee
moved out to the San Francisco
Bay Area and hosted a late-
night program, Rampage Radio.
Inspired by the lifestyle of shock-
jock radio DJs like Howard
Stern, the heavy metal-focused
show incorporated elements of
dirty talk radio, complete with
strippers and bizarre rocker
guests doing drugs in the back of
the studio.

However, Dee’s radio career

didn’t pan out. There just wasn’t
enough money in it to sustain a
real career. For a while he spent
time working first at a cushy tech
job, then as a strip club DJ after
the economy crashed in the early
Bush era (he documented this
journey in his autobiographical
book, “Play Something Dancy”)
but in more recent years he’s
settled
down
into
a
more

mundane, well-paying career in

L.A. as a project manager for a
kids’ software company.

“It’s weird. The place is owned

by scientologists,” he said.

But Simon’s radio dream

hasn’t died quite yet.

“I’ve always wanted to do

radio. But it’s hard to get a
broadcast radio gig, so podcasts
are the next best thing,” he said.

For almost a decade, Simon

has been the co-host of the “Sick
and Wrong” podcast, the self-
described “world’s source for
anti-social commentary.” “Sick
and Wrong” features discussion
of
“the
most
disturbing

news items of the week” and
interviews with a huge variety of
counterculture personalities.

Recent interviewees include

Jinx Dawson, the lead singer of
controversial ’60s-’70s satanic-
psychedelic band Coven, Mia
Matsumiya, creator of the “perv_
magnet” Instagram page recently
featured by Buzzfeed and Hung
Yung Terrarist, a former sex
cultist/current female MC. It’s
easy to see how Dee’s origins as
a shock-jock have influenced his
work on “Sick and Wrong.”

The podcast hit it big, but not

huge. In the U.S., the show hovers
around the bottom of the top 100
comedy charts, while in the U.K.,
the show regularly has been seen
in the top 10. The show’s fanbase is
sizable, but insular.

“It’s kinda cool to put out a

product that has, you know, a niche
audience,” he said. “It’s true, we’re
not like Marc Maron or something.
But you know, it’s fun!”

I’ve been listening to “Sick

and Wrong” since I was, well,
way too young to be listening to
“Sick and Wrong.” I guess it was
the subject matter that brought
me to the show. Getting to learn
about, drugs, counterculture and
loose women at the age of 14 was
something mundane small-town
me couldn’t pass up.

Something I’ve always admired

about the podcast is its ability to find
humor in the darkest and strangest
of places. It’s not disturbing for
disturbing’s sake. Even when the
stories the show covered got grisly
or depressing, Dee and his former
co-host (University alum Lance
Wackerle, an electrical engineer)
could always find ways to make me
laugh about it. At its core, “Sick and
Wrong” is a show about not taking
life too seriously.

“Sick and Wrong” has over 500

episodes available on the iTunes
store. Producing one episode a

week, that’s almost 10 years of
podcasting
experience
under

Simon’s belt.


When
Episode
500
was

released a couple of months ago,
it marked a huge change for the
show: Wackerle, Dee’s co-host
from day one, left the show. His
new co-host, independent comic
writer Andrew Harrison, has been
picking up where Wackerle left off.

“It’s a weird situation when

you have a long-running podcast
and all of a sudden you need to
switch hosts. So I was faced with a
difficult decision,” he said. “What
do I do? Do I start a new show? Do
I finish my podcasting career? Or
maybe like, try to find a different
host? But then finding a different
host poses its own problems,
because they have to win the
crowd over.”

Dee met his new co-host

Harrison through a mutual friend
who met him on Tinder.

“They went on one date and she

was like, wow, this guy is whacked.
He started talking about doing
heroin in Prague, and this whole
thing about a dominatrix that
pegged him, this weird shit. He’s a
weird guy,” he said.

To top it off, the deep-voiced

Harrison had years of New York
radio experience under his belt. It
was a match made in heaven.

“The cadence and the timing

was there with him because he’d
done radio. He wasn’t nervous, so
that was kinda cool. His voice is
great, and he has a great sense of
humor, he’s a twisted individual.”

Dee and Harrison are moving

ahead with what they call “Sick
and Wrong 2.0.,” a slight change
in format to the show that still
uses the same iTunes feed. A few
drunken rants to Dee’s voicemail
notwithstanding,
the
fanbase

seems to have accepted Harrison
with open arms. I can’t wait to see
where the show goes from here.

It was clear from just talking to

him over Skype how much hosting
talent Simon has. He told story
after story and had me in tears.
Maybe it’s a shame that Dee Simon
didn’t make it big on the radio. Or
maybe it isn’t, because in that case,
my favorite podcast wouldn’t exist.

If you’re looking for a comedy

podcast out of the ordinary, you
should listen to “Sick and Wrong”
on iTunes. Dee’s autobiographical
book about his experience as a strip
club DJ, “Play Something Dancy,”
is available on Amazon. Follow
Dee on Twitter @deesimon666 and
Instagram @mrdeesimon.

ARTIST
PROFILE

IN

COURTESY OF DEE SIMON

Dee Simon went from University student to podcast veteran.

SINGLE REVIEW

Hip-hop fans have been
downright spoiled this calendar
year. Artists like Future and
Young
Thug have
complete-
ly done
away with
traditional
music dis-
tribution
models,
throwing
out a staggering eight projects
between them. While it could
be argued that the shitstorm of
free Atlanta mixtapes has in a
way devalued contemporary rap
music, Pusha T returned last
week with a song that demands
your attention for its entire
duration.
By this, I mean that upon
its initial release you literally
couldn’t play the song without
holding and sustaining a “click”
on the animated artwork on the
label website; relax your trigger
finger and the song starts over.
It’s the details that make this
single feel special, like the birds
that fly around while the song
plays (“flying a bird” translates
to moving a brick of cocaine in
Rapper Talk™). For those of you
unfamiliar with Push and his
long history with cocaine, it’s
his raison d’etre. What weed is

for Wiz Khalifa, money is for Jay
Z, sex is for Lil Wayne, cocaine
is for Push-A-Ton.
While Push has been “the
coke dealer in Balmain jeans”
of rap for the last six years, he
somehow never has to repeat
himself. Every song in his rep-
ertoire is about freebase, but he
consistently outdoes himself
with the poetry he conjures;
“Untouchable” is no exception.
He uses “Cross-Fit” as a verb for
lifting bricks of nose candy into
his convertible.
Given that he’s been dead
silent since the fall of 2013
(No, I haven’t forgotten that
“Move That Dope” feature), it
should surprise no one that he

has a lot to say. What makes
“Untouchable” one of the best
hip-hop singles this year is
the grandiosity with which
he’s approached his return.
There’s the obligatory flex of
his new position at the helm
of G.O.O.D. Music, and like
any street hustler, he of course
had to disclose his exact sal-
ary. In less than four minutes
he manages to throw serious
shade at Donald Trump, com-
pare himself to Pablo Escobar
and evoke the mental image
of a Rolls Royce with a trunk
full of blow. Ah, he’s well and
truly back.

- SHAYAN SHAFII

G.O.O.D. MUSIC

B+

Untouchable

Pusha T

G.O.O.D. Music

T

his year, I decided to
switch up the focus
of my food column,

from opinion pieces and the
occasional restaurant review,
to report-
age on local
restaurants.
Ann Arbor is
home to an
increasing
number of
restaurants,
many of
them off-
campus and
overlooked,
run by peo-
ple preparing versions of their
home country’s food. I’d like, if
possible, to expose my readers
to as many of them as possible,
and document the extraordi-
nary journeys and work that
have gone into building these
restaurants.

When a professor of mine,

who had lived in Israel, told
me to check out Haifa Falafel,
I headed over immediately.
Twenty
bus
stops
down

Washtenaw Avenue, I found
the tiny shop. Painted on the
storefront windows were the
phrases “MEDITERRANEAN
FOOD” and “HAIFA STYLE
FALAFEL.” I had called the
owner, Ali Usman, beforehand
to schedule the interview, but
when I arrived he was still
hustling in the kitchen. I took
a seat and took my standard
atmosphere notes: jangly music
playing,
colorful
lanterns

hanging,
smell
of
sumac

wafting. Pasted on the walls
were photos of Haifa, Israel,

including its famous Bahá’í
temple (Baha’i is a religion, of
Persian origin, that emphasizes
the
spiritual
unity
of

humankind). Usman prepared
us two chicken shawarmas and
a plate of crisp, mahogany-
colored falafel, and we sat down
to eat. I ignored the food at first
— I wanted to know everything
about this restaurant, and him.

“Where are you from?”
“How did this place start?
“Are you Baha’i?”
Tall, lean and intense, Usman

seemed a bit puzzled. He gave
me the basics: He’s an Israeli-
Arab from outside Haifa, who,
as an 18-year-old, followed his
two brothers to Ann Arbor to
open this shop, even though
none of them had any formal
training. His two brothers have
since married and left, leaving
him in charge. He’s not Baha’i.
But that’s as much as he’d say
about himself.

“Talk about the food,” he

urged me. “Don’t talk about
me, or all of … this,” gesturing
towards the lanterns and the
photos and the speakers.

At this point, a customer

sitting nearby pulled up a chair
to offer his input.

“This is the best food in

Ann Arbor,” he said. “The best
falafel I’ve ever had. I come
here two or three times a week.
Make sure you take that down.”


After eating there myself,

I can see why. The terms
“Mediterranean” and “Middle
Eastern” are too vague. Take
the falafel. Each city in Israel
has its own variety: Jerusalem
falafel are big, dense and
green from copious amounts of
chopped parsley. In Tel Aviv,
they’re rolled smaller, but are
still green. Haifa-style falafel
are gumball-sized, golden and
have a looser texture.

The ones Usman prepares are

some of the best I’ve ever had —
crispy-creamy, garlicky, great
even outside of a sandwich. He
takes great pride in preparing
them, which also means that
he can’t always get them to that

perfect color.

“I make them myself, it’s a

whole process,” he said. “I can’t
get it right every time.”

Another
non-downtown

specialty of his is majadara:
lentils cooked with toothsome,
nutty bulgur wheat. But there
are some things that Usman
can’t translate from Haifa to
Ann Arbor. In Haifa, falafel are
typically stuffed into a half-circle
of pita that’s squeezed open.

“We still can’t find a good

enough pita to do that,” he said,
in between mouthfuls. “One
time, we had a grocery store
try to bake it, and they sent us
triangular pitas. Now, we just
use flat ones and wrap it.”

Any attempt to bring hyper-

regional food to Michigan is
bound to run into problems
like that. More surprising is
Usman’s customer base. Israeli-
Arabs and Palestinians make up
just one part of the local Arab
community, many of whom are
from Lebanon, Syria and Iraq.
But Usman told me that Arabs
actually are a minority of his
business — Jews and vegetarians
flock there in huge numbers.

Either
way,
Usman
has

a fierce pride in what he’s
doing — feeding people, and
exposing them to food that he
doesn’t think they’ll be getting
downtown. As I walked out the
door, his farewell line said it all.

“One more thing: Jerusalem

Garden has got nothing on us.”

Buonomo is exposing

himself (to food, you perverts).

To get a sneak peek, email

gbuonomo@umich.edu.

FOOD COLUMN

Mediterranean

food in Ann Arbor

GIANCARLO

BUONOMO

“One more

thing: Jerusalem
Garden has got
nothing on us.”

Usman has a
fierce pride
in what he’s

doing.

TOP FIVE REASONS TO WRITE FOR

DAILY ARTS

1. WE HATE LISTS

2. IT’S 2K15; GOD IS A RAPPER

4. WE DON’T KNOW MATH

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