danny rosenberg

Soggy Waffles

Welcome to Soggy Waffles. Here’s how these bite-size, digestible movie reviews work. Every movie gets a haiku. That’s one movie, 17 syllables. Every movie gets a short write-up. I’m talking so short that you should be able to completely syrupize a plate of waffles in the time it takes to read the write-up. If not, then I’m not doing my job. This is my take on the movies I see, not a chewed up and spit out version of anything you’ll find online.

 And finally, every movie gets a Soggy Waffles rating. The scale is as follows:

1 = The Frozen Waffle. The type of waffle that you can still taste the freezer burn when you bite into it. That bite was so traumatizing that you it might be awhile before you can safely bite into another.

 2 = The Soggy Waffle. You don’t need a pick-axe or other climbing gear to attack this waffle, but the pneumonic device you learned in elementary school to memorize the cardinal directions still applies: Never Eat Soggy Waffles.

3 = The Microwaved Waffle. This is the type of waffle that won’t stick with you for the rest of your life, but damn you enjoyed it nonetheless. Not every movie can be a Superbad.

 4 = The Crispy Waffle. Oh yeah, it’s not the best waffle you’ve ever had, but it’s pretty close. This is the type of movie that cracks into your End-of-Year best list, but doesn’t quite make it onto your Best of All Time.

5 = The Toasty Waffle. This is that from-scratch, special recipe, best-you’ve-ever had waffle. The kind in which the waffle is so good that the act of adding chocolate chips, butter or even syrup would be sacrilegious. You can never eat it for the first time twice, so savor it when you’ve got it.

Logo and illustrations by Adrienne Luther.

Logo and illustrations by Adrienne Luther.

Welcome to Soggy Waffles Reviews. Here’s how these bite-size, digestible movie reviews work. Every movie gets a haiku. That’s one movie, 17 syllables. Every movie gets a short write-up. I’m talking so short that you should be able to completely syrupize a plate of waffles in the time it takes to read the review. If not, then I’m not doing my job. This is my take on the movies I see, not a chewed up and spit out version of anything you’ll find online. And finally, every movie gets a Soggy Waffles rating. The scale is as follows:

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-08.png

1. The Frozen Waffle

The type of waffle that you can still taste the freezer burn when you bite into it. The whole experience is so traumatizing that it might be awhile before you can safely bite into another.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-07.png

2. The Soggy Waffle

You don’t need a pick-axe or other climbing gear to attack this waffle, but the pneumonic device you learned in elementary school to memorize the cardinal directions still applies: Never Eat Soggy Waffles.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-03.png

3. The Microwaved Waffle

This is the type of waffle that won’t stick with you for the rest of your life, but damn you enjoyed it nonetheless. Not every movie can be a Superbad.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-02.png

4. The Crispy Waffle

Oh yeah, it’s not the best waffle you’ve ever had, but it’s pretty close. This rating is reserved for the movise that crack into your End-of-Year best lists but don't quite make it onto your Best of All Time.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-01.png

5. The Perfectly Toasted Waffle

This is that from-scratch, special recipe, best-you’ve-ever had waffle. The kind in which the waffle is so good that the act of adding chocolate chips, butter or even syrup would be sacrilegious (but obviously you still do). You can never eat it for the first time twice, so savor it when you’ve got it.

Josh's Rehearsal Dinner Speech

Josh calls me the memory keeper of our friend group, but for Anna’s sake, his parents’ sake; my parents’ sake, and the sake of this speech’s length: I’m going to have selective memory tonight. That means I *definitely* I won't be mentioning the time his neighbors called the cops on us for starting a fire in their backyard. Or the time we made a homemade bong out of a plastic vodka handle and a turkey baster we stole from a kitchen drawer, which might have led to a few dry turkeys at Zack family Thanksgivings. (Pause!)

Josh and I recently flew to Philadelphia to see one of my favorite bands perform my favorite album in full, and let me just say, we had *so* much fun. Screaming along to lyrics like “When I grow up, I want to be nothing at all” and “wouldn't it be great if we were dead?”

We head-banged, we cried (well, that might’ve just been me), and we made friends with everyone around us. We keep a running list of our top five favorite concerts of all time, and as we came down from the high of the night eating Philly cheesesteaks in our hotel room, we instantly placed this one at the top.

While the people in our row might’ve said we were “on one” or “lightweights who can’t handle their canned cocktails” – which, touché – Josh put a more profound spin on it. He said that sometimes you go to a concert, and you just stand around listening to some music. But other times, you’re connected to the same energy as the band, almost as if you’re creating something new together as active participants in the show. To which I replied, oh yes, this is definitely going in my rehearsal dinner speech. (Pause!)

Because to be friends with Josh is to be an active participant in life. He makes you feel things deeper when you’re with him. Like anger, if you’re playing him in literally any game where the objective is to win. And fear, if you’re beating him in literally any game where the objective is to win.

Josh makes you laugh harder, he makes you think more introspectively, and he makes you care more about how you show up as a human being in the world for those around you. In high school, we used to joke that JB, Daniel and I were the much-needed positive influences on Josh, when all he did in turn was corrupt us. And while there certainly is truth to that, it’s far from the whole story. Josh pushed, and continues to push, each one of us outside of our comfort zones, to learn and grow and try new things.  Like that time he forced Daniel to try a strawberry, or when he chased me around his room with an electric razor in eighth grade until I shaved my disgusting upper lip hair for the first time. 

Even though we may not see each other every single day of the calendar year like we did for eight years straight, and although we may not get as many calls from Kathryn asking if Josh is alive like we used to – we’re just as close as ever before. We still talk almost every day, and I cherish – yes, cherish – how we let ourselves into each other’s lives for extended trips when we lived in different cities, from Chicago and LA to Vegas and San Diego.

As I know your time in Ocean Beach will always hold a special place in your heart, just know that it’ll always hold a special place in mine, too. My stays at 5015 Cape May are where I got to see your love with Anna blossom, and where Anna and I formed a friendship of our own. I’m sure tomorrow we’ll hear all about the moment you realized Anna was *the one,* but for me it was my first trip to San Diego when we went to see the Oscar Nominated Animated Shorts, and again when we played volleyball on the beach on the Fourth of July, and again when we road tripped to LA and back for Remi Wolf and The Sweat Tour. You know I couldn’t go this whole speech without mentioning The Sweat Tour. (Pause!) 

We’re all sad you no longer live down the street from the beach, but it’s pretty nice to be living down the street from each other. Once you settle into married life, I’m looking forward to more trips to the movies, more art projects at your kitchen table, and more Addison Rae singalongs. Cheers to you both. I love you so much. L’chaim!

Danny Rosenberg