Podcast Prescriptions: Heavyweight
Regrets are a part of life, but the past usually stays that way. There’s myriad reasons why confronting your past just doesn’t happen. First of all, it’s hard. The emotional effort of digging up your regrets rarely feels worth it. Especially because once you bring those memories to the forefront, there isn’t much to do with that information. You can’t confront your highschool bully so what’s the point of reliving your trauma? It’s easier to just leave the past in the past. To tell yourself that bully traumatized you, but you’ve made your peace with it. When asked about a certain event, you often find yourself shrugging your way through a, “it is what it is” response. Despite all of these common and logical mental loops, human beings still crave closure. We don’t like when things are incomplete, so we often find ourselves coming back to those regrets and traumas and think, “what if I actually tried to resolve this problem. What would that entail?”
If you ever want to turn my thought experiment into a podcast episode, Jonathan Goldstein is the man to call. On his podcast Heavyweight Jonathan does the grunt work of confronting your past for you. He’ll track down and ring up your 8th grade friends and ask them why they wrote “fuck you” on your garage door 20 years ago. He’ll schedule an appointment with Moby so you can get your CD back. He’ll investigate your medical records to prove to your family that you actually did break your arm as a child.
Like a benevolent graverobber, Jonathan digs up your past and hands it to you on a silver platter. Then it’s up to you to shape the dirt to find into something meaningful. This remarkably simple concept yields sophisticated case-studies of all types of personal relationships.Talking to the girl who defaced your garage reflects the school’s culture of bullying rather than a personal vendetta. Reconnecting with your childhood friend Moby has more to do with your jealousy than a CD. Proving that you actually did break your arm cements your role in the family as the one who endures his own pain to put others at ease. When handed the silver platter, the event can feel as serious as it once was, or sometimes the distance just makes you laugh at how seriously you used to take life.
Even though each episode is eponymous with the guest, Jonathan develops into being the main character of the show. The longtime radio host and podcaster is one part therapist, one part private investigator, and one part comedic relief. With an awkward “Nathan For You”-esque energy, Jonathan wants to connect to the people around him, but he’s a little too awkward to fit in. His broken-armed friend Rob tells Jonathan that he loves him at the end of every phone call. Instead of reciprocating, Jonathan unconvincingly pretends that poor cell reception prevented him from hearing Rob’s affection and hangs up.
Sometimes Jonathon’s attempts at connection are not only awkward, but also forced. As in the episode with Skye’s vandalized garage door. He invited himself to LA to meet with Skye and her old friend who suddenly abandoned her in middle school. Driving away from the airport, Jonathan sits next to Skye’s son and apologizes to everyone that he forgot to close the trunk. A pregnant pause ensues — one that I imagine lasted the whole car ride while everyone contemplated the absurdity of the situation. The absurdity of picking up a podcast host from the airport and driving to a recording booth, ultimately to confront your old friend with a secret microphone and accompanying earpiece.
You’d think that the Jonathan and his guest’s emotional journey would create a close emotional bond between the two, but no matter what, he’s not their friend. He’s always an interloper. A weird podcast host who puts a mic to everyone and asks them questions about their memory of ancient events. It’s in instances like this where you ask yourself, why is Jonathan here? He did the hard part, getting these two people in the same room after 20 years apart. Why does he then insist on his continual involvement?
The answer to that question is uncomplicated, but complicates the nature of the show’s premise. Jonathan has to tag along so he turn their reconciliation into a Heavyweight episode. It’s not natural for him to be there, and everyone knows that. It’s almost like meta dramatic irony, where the guests slowly realize that they are just one of Jonathan’s characters.
Listening to Heavyweight, I’ve consistently questioned Jonathan’s motives. I can’t figure out if he’s more driven by empathy for his guests, or by the story they’re helping him tell. Whatever the motivation, Jonathan changes his guests lives. He miraculously facilitates closure through persistence, cold calls, and a microphone.
You’d never expect that the best way to confront your past is to enlist the aid of a sheepish podcaster, but Jonathan’s unconventional tactics speak for themselves. Jonathan’s awkward studies of human connection keep the audience wincing and laughing, but his distanced perspective is also his greatest asset. His guests have a complex emotional attachment to the situation, but Jonathon can see the forest through the trees.
Sometimes you can’t solve your problems on your own. Sometimes, the best solution is a bumbling middle-age man who’s looking for a good story. Someone who can show up out of nowhere and take the heavy weight off your shoulders.
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Written while listening to the Weakerthans’ Reconstruction Site, Beat Happening’s Black Candy, and Hippo Campus’s Bambi
