Speaker 1: Previously on Miller High Life Presents The Heavyweight Diaries. Can't
Speaker 1: wait to hear the first episode of the new season.
Speaker 1: I have not. Timothy Nelson is our union representative Subway Sandwich,
Speaker 1: Timothy Nelson. Are we all set for our listening part?
Speaker 1: Timothy Nelson Gimbletz executive listening room is a darkened chamber
Speaker 1: with the deadened acoustics of a sarcophagus. We all find
Speaker 1: our seats. Stevie and Khalila take the couch, and Heavyweight
Speaker 1: Union head Timothy Nelson commandeer's a backwards office chair. Nelson
Speaker 1: don's his careful listening face a horrid affair that involves
Speaker 1: squinting his eyes, tilting his head beatifically, and I can
Speaker 1: only assume tightly puckering his colon. Finally, Bloomberg drags his
Speaker 1: silver plated Peloton bicycle into the center of the room.
Speaker 1: Hope you don't mind if I take a spin while
Speaker 1: I take it all in, he says, And Timothy Nelson,
Speaker 1: let's loose a belly chuckle sick a fantic enough to
Speaker 1: make my spermatic cord unraveled at great expense. Only weeks earlier,
Speaker 1: re ravel as much an enemy of capitalism as he was,
Speaker 1: Timothy Nelson still couldn't help kissing the ring, and by ring,
Speaker 1: I mean caboose, Alex Bloomberg's executive Ask caboose, nice one, chief,
Speaker 1: says Nelson, chasing after Bloomberg's two wheeler to swat his
Speaker 1: foot in camaraderie. Once the room settles down, I squint
Speaker 1: through the darkness. Eight beady eyes stare back at me,
Speaker 1: expectant and unblinking, like a pack of rabid raccoons about
Speaker 1: to tear through a garbage bag full of content. My
Speaker 1: only option is to stall. I succeed in buying myself
Speaker 1: ten minutes by accidentally rebooting my computer several times, but
Speaker 1: the room is growing restless. What is a heavyweight? I
Speaker 1: ask a portmanteau composed of two separate words, heavy meaning
Speaker 1: to exert a gravitational pull and wait, something that can
Speaker 1: be hoisted either in a curling motion or from a
Speaker 1: squatting position. While my mouth jabbers on autopilot, my brain
Speaker 1: is in a terrible sweat. Think Johnny, Think stories. Stories,
Speaker 1: But of the billions of stories to steal and repurpose,
Speaker 1: only two come to mind, The seminal kiddie book Good
Speaker 1: Night Moon, in which a suicidal rabbit bids adieu to
Speaker 1: his earthly possessions, and that poem about footsteps in the sand.
Speaker 1: Please give me something else, I beg my throbbing brain.
Speaker 1: Good night podcast. It whispers back, good night Healthcare, good
Speaker 1: night Twitter followers. But just as I'm about to initiate
Speaker 1: Plan B, tearing down the window curtains and a curtain
Speaker 1: clutching fake heart attack worthy of Red Fox, a third
Speaker 1: story enters my brain. Pan no, please, I scream and
Speaker 1: think get out, as I will later recount in increasing
Speaker 1: states of hysteria to increasingly expensive therapists. It's in this
Speaker 1: moment that my fate hops into a potato sack with
Speaker 1: Timothy Nelson's fate. Before I even knew what I was saying,
Speaker 1: I was saying this. The scene is set in in
Speaker 1: an office elevator, as one man tells the tale of
Speaker 1: Sandwich is gone AWRYE if you will, I laugh at
Speaker 1: my own joke to enforce its comedic properties. I don't
Speaker 1: get it, says Stevie. I think I do, says Khalila.
Speaker 1: I shoot them a stern look and continue. My girlfriend
Speaker 1: wanted a subway sandwich without olives. The man says, and
Speaker 1: I wanted a subway sandwich with olives. That's me, cries
Speaker 1: Timothy Nelson. I am that man. With a wave of
Speaker 1: my storytelling arm I shush him down. Ah, but with
Speaker 1: impish leco slavic lord of misrule helming the wheel of
Speaker 1: this supper wagon we call life. Nothing is ever certain.
Speaker 1: And so the man who desperately drooled for a sandwich
Speaker 1: with olives received the one without, while his lady friend,
Speaker 1: vigorously salivating for a sandwich without olives, received a sandwich with.
Speaker 1: Will these star crossed sandwiches ever find their rightful sandwich eaters? Well,
Speaker 1: why don't they just swap sandwiches? Asks S Bloomberg. Why, indeed,
Speaker 1: I wonder it's just as I'm about to admit defeat.
Speaker 1: Admit that I have nothing. Admit that, like a half
Speaker 1: baked sandwich bread made without yeast, this plotline has no
Speaker 1: rising action. Admit that, yes, Alex, this is indeed the
Speaker 1: most asinine story ever told. It is at this exact
Speaker 1: moment of my final comeuppance that Timothy Nelson grants me
Speaker 1: a kind of salvation. My special lady is allergic to
Speaker 1: pickled peppers pipes. He and my sandwich was populated by
Speaker 1: a peck of them. And like the humble sandwich, so
Speaker 1: too is man, I say, already hearing the well of
Speaker 1: orchestral music in my mind's ear. Like sandwiches, are we
Speaker 1: not assembled according to a greater, unknowable plan? Who among
Speaker 1: us has not found themselves slathered in the mayonnaise of doubt,
Speaker 1: sliced in two by the bread knife of self hatred?
Speaker 1: Had our crusts removed by the attentive mother of anxiety?
Speaker 1: Who among us will not be chewed up, devoured, and
Speaker 1: excreted before our time? Out of the darkness, I see
Speaker 1: Timothy Nelson wipe a tear from his cheek. So true,
Speaker 1: he says, But what if that olive, burdened couple had
Speaker 1: the chance at a do over? I continue affecting the
Speaker 1: voice of a wizard casting a magic spell, and could
Speaker 1: confront the sandwich maker who got their orders so horribly wrong.
Speaker 1: If you allow yourself to venture past the limits of
Speaker 1: your earthly imagination, try to invent what such a conversation
Speaker 1: might yield. Bloomberg stops peddling his three thousand dollars wheelless bicycle,
Speaker 1: his attention wrapped interviewing the subway sandwich artist who got
Speaker 1: the order wrong. He says, of course, to offer the
Speaker 1: mustard of forbearance, I say, the sweet tapanad of forgiveness.
Speaker 1: Timothy Nelson is now openly blubbering, damn you and your storytelling,
Speaker 1: he weeps. And for an added layer of narrative richness,
Speaker 1: I say, the man eavesdropping in the elevator was none
Speaker 1: other than the host of Heavyweight himself. You were wearing earbuds,
Speaker 1: cries Nelson with incredulity. And when I asked you how
Speaker 1: your weekend was, you ordered me to pipe down because
Speaker 1: you were listening to a podcast. But you weren't listening
Speaker 1: to a podcast at all. Oh but I was, I say,
Speaker 1: just one that was yet to be recorded. Beautiful, says Bloomberg.
Speaker 1: The symmetry is breathtaking. In response, all of us in
Speaker 1: the room, dutifully quoting from the Gimlet Manifesto, recite in unison,
Speaker 1: symmetry divided by catharsis and multiplied by advertising dollars equals storytelling.
Speaker 1: We all take deeply satisfying SIPs from the miller high lifes.
Speaker 1: We've all been drinking, and that I never mentioned until
Speaker 1: this moment. You and Timothy will have to work together
Speaker 1: very closely on this one. Bloomberg says, I'm seeing a
Speaker 1: co reporting situation. I don't know, I say, Khleland, Stevie are.
Speaker 1: He's telling me that Heavyweights more of a one man operation.
Speaker 1: We could sell some product placement, brand opportunities to Subway,
Speaker 1: says Bloomberg, steamrolling me. And maybe you can also find
Speaker 1: out why subway bread smells the way it does. You
Speaker 1: mean smelling like if you put an armpit in a
Speaker 1: Betty Crocker easy bake oven and set it on high.
Speaker 1: I ask that smell. I love the smell of subway bread,
Speaker 1: says Timothy Nelson. Bloomberg laughs and claps his hands together.
Speaker 1: I'm just loving the banter here, he says. I know
Speaker 1: we can put our political differences aside and the interest
Speaker 1: of creating some compelling content, says Timothy Nelson, And then
Speaker 1: for some reason, he extends his fist to me uncertainly.
Speaker 1: I grab hold of it and shake. I had saved
Speaker 1: the show, But at what price? This has been Chapter
Speaker 1: six of the Heavyweight Diaries. The next season of Heavyweight
Speaker 1: will begin in three weeks on September twenty sixth. Remember
Speaker 1: September twenty sixth is Spotify Day. Actually, every day is
Speaker 1: Spotify Day, at least according to the corporate mantra we're
Speaker 1: forced to repeat every morning. Heavyweight is me Jonathan Goldstein
Speaker 1: along with Jorge just Stevie Lane, Khalila Holt, and b A. Parker.
Speaker 1: This episode was mixed by Emamonger, music by Bobby Lord.
Speaker 1: Our ad music is Vivaldi's Spring, performed by the Wichita
Speaker 1: State University Chamber Players. Will have a new chapter of
Speaker 1: the Heavyweight Diaries next week.