Episode 930 - Peter Fonda / Andy Kindler & J. Elvis Weinstein

**Marc Maron** (0:18)
WTFocrats? WTFublicans? WTFicans? WTFublicans? It doesn't matter. I was trying to do the two sides thing on the day after Independence Day. I don't know what happened towards the end of yesterday. I'm recording this in the middle of yesterday. If the Civil War that Alex Jones prophesized came to pass, maybe everything's more in shambles than it was before. I think more than worrying about a actual Civil War, it's a Civil War you probably had to deal with at the barbecue or at the place you were hanging out or with somebody you're talking to. I don't know when that's going to end. Probably never. Today on the show, I talked to Peter Fonda and I don't want to disappoint anyone. This was before he impulsively expressed his anger on Twitter in a crass way. And it was, you know, startled and excited the outrage machine.
That happened after I talked to him. And he was on a bit of a time budget here. So we went we just went right in to Peter Fonda land. And I just I jumped in childhood. Fourth of July's came to mind, smoke bombs, trying to get a brick of black cats. I don't know how old you are. I'm 54 Apparently, I said I was 53 talking to Paul Rudd. I'm not sure why if I was lying about my age, why would I only shave a year off? I just didn't like, you know, I guess I'm having mild moments of brain skid. You know, as I sort of kind of like fall horizontally through time into it.
But but no, I'm 54 But I just remember just like the mythical M 80 man. Where do you get the M 80s? Apparently around here over where Sarah, the painter lives, M 80s are all over the place because they're fucking. It's crazy over there. Back in my old neighborhood, this neighborhood, not so much, not so much. People are taking walks around where I live now. And it's pleasant. Is that OK? Can I graduate to that? Can I graduate to a place where people take walks? But man, I just I remember seeing an M 80 once, but never, ever get one. One time we got a brick of black cats with them all at once, and it was just a cluster fuck of random explosions. You didn't know where to run. It was your own little very muted and harmless Vietnam. Unless one caught you by the eye, you weren't going to catch any, you know, there was no enemy other than your hand lighting the fucking thing. But you just never, it was a rain of crackle. Yeah, I remember that. I remember smoke bombs. I remember snakes. I remember just hanging out in front of the house on the street. You had about a two block rain back when I was a kid where you could go outside and yeah, and the creeps that kind of drove by, there weren't many, it was a neighborhood. It was suburbia, setting up bike ramps on cans, doing that kind of stuff. I remember one time we made a cannon. I don't remember who made it, but we made a cannon out of, back then it was tin cans, soda cans, I think four or five of them. And the bottom one, you had punched holes in the top. The rest were opened up on both sides to make sort of a cannon. And then you made a little hole on the bottom and you pop a tennis ball in and you shoot some lighter fluid into the hole on the bottom and then light it. And that fucking tennis ball would shoot like 100 feet up. It was the greatest thing.
I don't hear about them much anymore. I guess I'm not really running in those circles, but are there tennis ball cannons around anymore? Or do the cans not enable you to do that? I think it required a more durable can than an aluminum can.
Yeah, smoke bombs, snakes, mythical M80s, the occasional black cat, sparklers, bottle rockets, the best.
Yeah. Yeah. And the tennis ball cannon.
Man, I remember we tried to hold that thing and it blew off. Almost killed Frankie Fool. I also remember playing chicken on the street and on bikes, on ride bikes. And for some reason, I stayed in it and me and Frankie hit each other. And it was just this monumental dumb thing. You know, it's like the idea of it, you play chicken and it's exciting, but you don't fucking hit each other just because no one's going to chicken out. What a dumb, dumb thing. This would be for skateboards.
But, you know, that was my childhood.