Reid Levin is a New York City writer, actor and comedian who is currently undergoing treatment for leukemia in his hometown of Denver, CO.
Reid writes and acts in sketch comedy videos and performs with Better Than The Machine around the country. He is a regular contributor to the humor website Smosh.com. Reid is also the co-creator of the NBC comedy webseries The Guys in 3A.
Reid acts in commercials and films, and has lent his voice to several cartoons.
Facebook is having trouble importing my (and lots of other people’s) blog entries to “Notes.” By which I mean Facebook is not importing my (and lots of other people’s) blog entries to “Notes.”
All my hilarious and leukemic antics of the past month (and sporadically before that) are missing from Facebook, including, but not limited to:
-A trip to Washington, D.C. to spend Independence Day with my sisters that I slept through!
-Apple geniuses not only repairing my graphics card, but also going so far as to give my laptop a shiny new casing!
-Fun with foot-and-mouth disease, a very painful mouth and throat disease that only animals and very lucky humans like leukemia patients get!
-And who could forget my conviction as being a Russian spy?
Classic! And much of that stuff actually happened!
I changed some settings and am hoping this blog entry will automatically be posted on Facebook, rather than only linking back to reidlevin.net. We shall see. Oh yes, we shall.
I spent this past long weekend in Washington, DC, visiting my sisters and thus successfully continuing an unbroken three year run of 3R out-of-Denver Independence Days. I think it can now officially be considered a tradition. I’m glad to have been able to spend the holiday with them, even if I was sick and in bed most of my time there.
My laptop, like me, broke down in DC. This was of some note, as just two weeks prior, I had taken my laptop in to be examined (by a genius, no less) because the screen was blank sometimes when it should not have been blank. Like when it was turned on. That problem was attributed to my screen by the genius, “and definitely not to a specific graphics card put into specific laptops manufactured during a specific period of time in 2007″ (“what an oddly specific thing for this genius to say,” I thought to myself at the time). The genius took away my computer, so as to repair the screen “and definitely not some very specific graphics card like the one inside this super specific laptop” (“why does this genius keep talking about that?” I naïvely wondered to myself).
I got my laptop back, with a brand new screen, and used it only once before traveling to DC. The first time I tried to boot it up in DC, however, nothing happened. My first thought was, “I’ll bet this has something to do with a specific graphics card put into specific laptops manufactured during a specific period of time in 2007.” A more forthcoming genius in DC was only too happy to tell me the whole story. It turns out there is a known error with the specific graphics card I have in the specific model laptop I have that was manufactured during the specific time mine was manufactured.
I was less perturbed than I would’ve guessed I’d be, having had to give up my computer for what will end up being at least two weeks for a misdiagnosed known problem. I’ll chalk this calm reaction up to AppleCare and Apple’s “if it breaks, we’ll fix it no matter what (see terms and conditions for limitations of liability)” attitude. I have Amy to thank for talking my dad into AppleCare when, in an unlikely team-up event, she and my dad teamed-up and went shopping together to buy me a laptop when I was in the hospital in ’07-’08.
Oh, and somewhere in this recent ’010 timeframe, I got hired to write for a comedy website. But more about that later.
–Reid.
Listening to: “Hook” by Blues Traveler.
Painstakingly “typed” on my iPhone.
Wednesday June 02nd 2010, 11:59 am
Filed under: Family, Leukemia
Today, I felt so healthy and strong that I had to roll down the windows of the car and crow as I drove down the highway. I have not felt this good since at least the summer of 2007, before I started feeling the strange and oft misdiagnosed disease that was eventually identified as leukemia.
Earlier this evening, my family was honored by the Anti-Defamation League (ADL), who presented us and another family with their 2010 Torch of Liberty awards for demonstrating “a tradition of community service.” The ADL, in their own words, “fights anti-Semitism and all forms of bigotry, defends democratic ideals and protects civil rights for all.” There’s not much else in the world that I consider more important. It was truly an honor to be recognized by this organization for which I have such deep respect.
Oh, and I didn’t know the award would be an actual physical thing I got to take home, but it turns out that it’s a kind of sharp blunt object. It’s a very neat flame shaped hunk of granite, into which has been chiseled “2010 Torch of Liberty Award”, “Reid Levin,” and an inspiring quote. Everyone who was honored got one. I asked people if theirs said “Reid Levin’ on them, too, but nobody else let me look at theirs. Probably because they thought I was kidding, and knew they all said “Reid Levin” on them. Which is a little odd, but pretty cool. Not as cool, of course, as the honor of actually receiving the recognition for which we were given the sharp blunt awards, for which we are all very honored.
That I felt better than I’ve felt in three years on this particular night was nearly unbelievable. Maybe it was God, or Karma, or Carl Sagan manipulating the cosmos from that place he sent Jodie Foster in Contact. Or maybe it was none of that; maybe it was just a coincidence.
No, that’s wrong. All of it. I just liked the way that sounded. I was totally leading you astray. Keep reading! You’re almost there!
As my dad and I said goodnight to one another, he wondered aloud about my good health and an old, familiar saying that always makes me wince: “laughter is the best medicine.” Before I could even think to lament the use of that tired adage to someone with leukemia who needs real medicine, I heard myself telling him that I woke up laughing this morning.
Since my last entry, I’ve missed several topics I wish I’d blogged about. Knowing full well from prior experience that if I gave each of these many topics their own posts, I would quickly feel overwhelmed and, just as quickly, give up. So I decided to write about each of these many topics in one entry I’ve dubbed a “twitlog.” Aware of my propensity for verbose verbiage, I decided to treat each story as a Twitter post by limiting each of them to 140 characters. Onward!
-Last Vid: Bobby Fitzsimmons (of screen & stage) vlogs. Los: great! But whycome so few hits for funny video? I want to play Bobby’s cousin.
-New Vid: Crazy lady thinks cat is her son; boyfriend aghast. YT Comedy Spotlight! Moms Day dedication: to all moms, not just the crazy ones.
-New “Give A Shit” lyrics: Earthquakes, volcanoes and the oil spill/My candidate still says, “Drill, Baby, Drill!”
Whew, okay I think that does it. This turned out to be a fun challenge. Maybe I’ll wind up making more of these. We’ll see how I feel about it a few days out. At any rate, I enjoyed doing this enough to create a new category for these things (’cause you know, this entry wasn’t already in enough categories).
For the record, “twitlog” is a double portmanteau, and I love me some portmanteaus. First, of course, there’s the Twitter-weblog combination, which is an apt description of all these Twitter-style stories in my blog. Second is the more self-derisive combination of “twit” and “log”; with the “twit” being myself, and this effort being the only “log” of what happened in the unintended space between more frequent and detailed blog posts.
Thursday April 08th 2010, 11:55 pm
Filed under: Family
I have quite a backlog of posts left incomplete for whatever reason, posts I wondered and worried at the time if I should post, and then, a lot of crappy ideas I started but realized were crappy before I invested too much time in them (in most cases). I threw out the crappy stuff and decided that I want to go through and finish the other posts. I’ll start with a recent one. This post was originally started on March 29, 2010.
My stomach hurts at a 7 right now. It’s also just not accepting much solid food. I’d say I’ve been able to eat somewhere between “nothing” and “what little is left on the dirty plates we rinse in the sink then put in the dishwasher for the dog to lick” (before we run the dishwasher! Before!).
Despite this, going to the first Seder at Grandma’s tonight was important to me. I am absolutely certain that my grandparents have decades left in them, whether, as in one case, they’ve just got too much energy and too many things to do, or in another case, they’re just too darn stubborn to give into the concept of mortality (they probably see it as a left wing plot), I am convinced of their longevity. However, I’ve re-learned over the past year not to take any time with them for granted. It feels like a long, long time since I’ve had to face the passing of a loved one of my own, but in this regard, it has not been a good year for close friends.
As far as attending this year’s Passover Seder at Grandma’s, it was very special to me in particular. Two years ago, all of my family–my parents, my sisters, my grandma, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins–they all came to the hospital with their pesadecha food they’d baked and a Seder plate and some very, very abridged blessings for the first Seder. It will remain in my memory as one of the single greatest family evenings of my life, one that I hope I will be able to tell future generations about. Last year was less memorable, probably because it was a far more normal situation. I was confined to my house because my counts were too low, so I think we had a Seder or something very much like one with some of my sisters’ friends in tow. This year’s Seder, much to my delight, was an almost total return to normalcy, of which I will likely remember even less than last year’s.
When I poke a pinhole in time, starting with tonight and looking back at the same day in the previous two years, it is impossible for me to deny that the wheels of progress are definitely moving forward. No matter how sick I think I am feeling now, last year was worse, and the year before was much, much worse than that.
I’m glad I went. It was mostly a joy. Dad officiated, and like always, there was the traditional scrambling between my dad, my uncles, and me not to read the part of the “Simple Son” (I read the “Wise Son!”–though there were accusations of nepotism). I got to meet some interesting new friends, schmooze with the family, and just get out of the house for awhile for a non-medical reason–which felt good. I ate a bite of everything, including the delicious brisket and pot roast. However, these so-called “bird bites” were not looked upon kindly because, of course, I was not doing my part to eat enough of the feast and, clearly because of me alone, we were left with several more meals worth of extra food. Several meals for large banquet halls. I had to keep insisting my stomach just couldn’t take anymore, not because it didn’t taste good (quite the opposite!), but because it felt like it’d run out of room… just from those few bites. I will worry about that another day, though. Probably tomorrow.
–Reid.
Author’s note from the future: and just like I said, that very next day I worried to my heart’s content. L’Chaim!
To make this particularly important announcement, I was going to subtitle a video of that very famous soundbite by George Herbert Walker Bush, I (that’s supposed to be a roman numeral indicating the number one, but this font’s got no serifs!). I figured out that, if I subtitled that clip, it would be really easy to make it seem like he said, “Read. My. Lips: No New Cancers!” because people cheered over him saying “taxes,” and the words “taxes” and “cancers” would basically look the same coming out of his mouth. Then I spent some time looking for a decent copy of this video from the 1988 Republican National Convention. Then I realized that, actually, George Herbert Walker Bush, One’s promise was broken and he had, in fact, introduced taxes and I didn’t really want to, y’know, hex myself by putting this particularly important announcement into the mouth of a liar as he was lying, even if it was a savvy use of my video editing prowess.
Then I remembered, “hold the phone, I am a total idiot.”
I totally forgot that this Bush, One Roman Numeral guy, he created one of the worst things ever! So what was I even thinking in the first place? And theeen I remembered that I had already commented about this extremely offensive thing he had created in a very not safe for work video (here’s a hint that might be important based on where this extraordinarily not safe for work, but rib tickling and sonically jazzifying, get up and dance comment loads for you: he didn’t create you, the world, feminism, or The Constitution) (here’s another hint: this thing I so supremely dislike with every fiber of my being, he created it with his balls), so I gave up on the whole thing and decided I should probably just announce this particularly important thing from my own mouth and/or keyboard:
Dr. Surgeo Lookieloo, who performed yesterday’s poke ‘n drain on my upper digestive areas, felt strongly, based on the evidence he observed and collected from inside my gut, that the best time to explain his findings was while I was still deeply asleep from the general anesthetic that my Dad kept reminding me killed Michael Jackson. The doctor told my parents that there is a very good chance that in my abdomen, I do not have any organs that are infected with a new, different cancer, or any cancerous tumors. The pathology from all the poking will hopefully confirm this within a few weeks. Even without the pathology, though, the doctor indicated that he saw enough nocancer to say with certainty that there was no new cancer growing inside my stomach, or on my pancreas, or in my pancreas, or in the pseudo-cysts near my pancreas, or in some weird floaty legions near my pancreas, and that’s all I was told about before my mom said to stop asking her about my pancreas. She said that the doctor had seemed pretty darn sure that my entire abdomen was free from a new cancer. I asked if she’d ever heard of anyone getting cancer of the diaphragm, and I’m pretty sure she heard me but just chose to ignore my question.
This seems like a good time to bring up The Incredibly Improbable Statistic Of The Day for yesterday. The Incredibly Improbable Statistic Of The Day for Monday, April 5 was that when I finally woke up after my investigatory gastrointestinal surgey, I found out that my post-operating room nurse was from Vernon, a Township in New Jersey, about which Wikipedia states that “nobody knows how it got its name!” Woah! Isn’t that wild?! But even more statistically astonishing than that astonishing fact is that Vernon is where Carlos Cabrera hails from, and my post operating room nurse not only knew him by name, but had grown up with his older sister! Take that, Math!
The news is very good, even if it doesn’t answer the looming question of what I do have that’s causing my abdominal pain. It’s really good to know that it’s not any new cancer. In all seriousness, my parents really looked out for me yesterday, and went to bat for me and my best interests when there were some questions raised. They deserve a helluva of a lot of credit for that and an equally large amount of love for sitting around for seven hours and not falling asleep.
I’m trying to stay positive, and I think we have some legitimate new leads on what might be affecting me. The high concentration of iron in my blood (the reason why Reiman recently reminded me to avoid Magneto) might just be causing the problem we’re investigating–and a few others. But that’s a story for another day. Until then, stay cool, fair reiders! And Jamba Juice: you will continue making a sizable fortune off of me and my tender, tender tummy.
I met a new friend today who asked me when I was diagnosed with Leukemia. I replied that, wouldn’t you know it, but today just happened to be the second year anniversary of my diagnosis. This new friend replied that perhaps “anniversary” seemed like an inappropriate word to mark today since the word often has a positive connotation.
I kind of laughed and explained that there is a positive connotation: I’m still alive. If I’d been diagnosed a few weeks, or perhaps even a few days later, I would not be writing this message. I would be dead. I can’t imagine not marking today’s importance, and giving thanks for all the people who helped keep me alive; in big ways and in small, in physical ways and in spirit, in friendship and in love. I must thank them all for helping me take one more step towards the finish line.
I have two years behind me now, and a year and a half to go. I wish I could impart some special wisdom from my experiences upon everyone, some passionate speech about living your life to its fullest. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a great bit of advice. I didn’t come up with it, though. I think, if I could impart any of the wisdom I’ve gained after two years battling Leukemia upon myself from two years ago, it would be that, “as time passes, everything becomes more tolerable, and yet, be careful because everything becomes more frustrating.” It’s almost like growing up: the older you get, the more you can do, but the more you also realize there are many things you cannot do.
Ultimately, though, there’s just two things I need to say: thank you all for giving me the ultimate gift: my life. I love you all.
Today, for the first time in a long time, I’m really feeling quite excellent. Consider this an official announcement that the unidentified vicious mutant H1N1 clone fluey cold H2Reid3+ virus disease that has been plaguing me for a month is, at last, dead.
Unfortunately, my dad just tested positive for H1N1.
Fortunately, I just called the clinic and was able to reserve an H1N1 vaccine.
Unfortunately, I won’t be protected from H1N1 for up to three weeks.
Fortunately, I am feeling quite positive today–I think I’m gonna be okay.
1) Good news to bring light to a dark day that really needs it should definitely come first. Raquel and James Bedell are the proud new Aunt and Uncle of a beautiful baby girl, who James’ sister gave birth to several days ago. Congratulations to both of you and especially to James’ sister’s family! This is truly joyous, wonderful news! I am glad I found out about it today of all days. Thank you Raquel.
2) Reports on television indicate that the leader of the shootings at Fort Hood was a Major Malik Nadal Hasan. I have few words with which to express the horror and sorrow I feel about this horrendous act of violence. Unfortunately, the 24 hour television news networks seemingly have even fewer words. With no further information available at the moment, news commentators seemingly have nothing else to do beside dancing around this man’s heritage. “I know we should be PC but…” and “I know we shouldn’t speculate about his name, but…” and worst of all, “I know we should wait for more facts, but…”. We get it: he’s Arab. He’s probably Muslim. So what? I fear the tide of racism rising. Whether that wave be visible or under the surface, we must not allow one man’s (or two or three men’s) actions, no matter how horrific they may be, to define an entire group of people.
3) My cousin is in Fort Hood right now. We are awaiting news from her. My thoughts and my prayers are with you, Kristina. Please be safe.
4) Psychological care for the men and women of our armed forces is in pathetic shape. To anyone that knows someone who has been deployed to Afghanistan or Iraq, this is not news–this is one more in a long list of failures to help those in need of psychiatric help. While today’s slaughter has been far worse than anything we’ve seen at a base in the United States, there have been issues of spousal abuse, issues of the inability to readjust to normal non-military lives and too many issues of suicide among soldiers for many more years than many will want to admit. These are people who risk their lives for us, and today, we have truly failed them.
5) “Absolutely despicable” is the only way to describe Wall Street institutions getting the H1N1 vaccine to inoculate their employees while high risk people across the country are still unable to so much as find somewhere to wait in line just for a chance to get vaccinated. Absolutely despicable.
6) Even as a staunch left-wing, commie, pinko, Jewish, fag-loving, liberal, progressive, Democratic, part-time New Yorker, I would prefer President Obama serve only one term and ensure health care for all Americans, ensure equal rights for all Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered Americans, enact measures to ensure the future health of our planet, and ensure that our soldiers get the psychological care that they need–rather than have him serve two terms and miss enacting even one of those four things. No more bullshit about needing 60 votes to do anything. What is needed is the courage and the wisdom to do the right thing, which might mean “the thing that makes you lose your next election”. Step up, Mr. President and step up, Sirs and Madams of the United States Congress. It is long past the time to put your responsibilities to the citizens of this country before your own personal interests.
It’s Better Than The Machine’s frightfully funny Halloween video, a parody of the “Saw” films called “Mousetrap”! Steve and his friends are captured by a psychotic, albeit uncreative, puppet whose plans Steve simply cannot abide. Enjoy our ghoulish send-up of the tired Saw franchise:
Directed and edited by Ballard C. Boyd, who stayed up past his bedtime making a last minute change I requested. I believe the change makes a big difference for the better, so thank you very much, BCB!
The video was written by BTTM’s resident pop culture guru Carlos Cabrera, to great effect. I had minimal input, which Carlos and Ballard refined and polished. Special thanks are most definitely due for my mom Laure, who stepped in to provided the voice for the puppet’s mom. I think Ballard modified the recording in someway, as you can’t really tell that it’s her. Sorry Mom, I guess you’ll have to wait a little longer to become a YouTube sensation.
This Halloween video is much, much, much (infinitely much) better than the last one BTTM did, back in 2007. I still have nightmares about that video–but not the kind of nightmares that a Halloween video is meant to instill. Rather, the last minute, thrown together, embarrassed to have my name on it and my face in it, probably my personal worst, “what was I thinking?,” Paul-was-right-about-this-video kind of nightmare. Although, Dave and I did make one of my favorite episodes of The Guys in 3A for Halloween that year…
Anyway, I like this new video a lot, even though it has brought to my attention that we’re going to have to stop using the names Steve and Gerald in our video sketches for awhile. Those seem to be our go-to names! Gerald is also the name of Matt Gallo’s kidnapper character (if not many others) and there’s a Steve in almost every sketch we’ve done, whether you know it or not. Whoops! Oh well.
I’m very proud of Los, and really enjoy his sketch. Make sure to check http://bttm.net next week for a brand new video… if you dare! Mwahahaha!
for yesterday. The Incredibly Improbable Statistic Of The Day