First of all, because I haven’t said it before: thank you. Tumblr is more responsible for hours spent edifyingly and pleasurably away from work than any other site on the web.
I have a humble request though. I like your new Beta ‘Recommend Tuesday’ option. But the categories you require us to place our recommended Tumblrs force us into compromising decisions. Many of the best Tumblrs I follow reflect what I can only assume are the insanely wide-ranging interests of their Tumblerifyers. In fact, often what I most want to recommend to others is the breadth itself of my favorite Tumblrs’ passions, interests, and ideas.
Is there any chance you could drop the category requirement? Life is already stressful enough without having to corral the multifariousness of Tumblrs into preset categories.
The headline alone is heartwarming enough of course, but when I realized the identity of the “man”, it hit home. His name is Bob Moore and he’s the owner of Portland’s Bob’s Red Mill Natural Foods. I’ve been buying his products for almost a decade and cannot bake without his flours. It’s one of those companies who has put Portland on the map with its business model and exceptional product line and it gives me yet another reason to be a proud Portlander.
Beastie Boys / Finger Lickin Good from Check Your Head
As great as Paul’s Boutique was, both for the band and for hip hop, I think Check Your Head was the first record that painted an accurate picture of the Beasties. It showed us what they were capable of. Their DIY/punk aesthetic came through for the first time. And it was just all over the place. It’s the record that solidified their status as an anomaly, and for reasons that go far beyond the color of their skin. As was also true of Public Enemy, the entirety of their influences and their output was just so different from everything else that it couldn’t help but influence the next 20 years of music.
“So here’s what today is begging for: You in a derby hat and me in a sweet vintage dress, tied tight at the waist. I’m thinking a tiny red print…fading flowers or swiss dots, maybe a dying magnolia in my hair. And we’ll dance barefoot to this, two stepping and hip swinging through some big old kitchen, humid air lazing in through an open window. Pausing for low dips that make me smile and laugh…let you lead me in to the other room, this banjo playing on in a sweet muffled soundtrack behind us.”—