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Jan Radder
11 May 2012 @ 01:35 pm
Terrorizing a student until he's crying and screaming for help does not fall under the category of "hijinks and pranks."  That's called being a tormentor.  And the fact that when discussing the incident, you actually laughed about it  pretty much nullifies any idea that you're sincerely sorry for what you did which means either you don't actually understand what it is you did or you don't care, neither of which paints a very flattering portrait of you because it means either you're an idiot or an asshole.

You claim you're a different person now than you were then, but the only evidence you offer to support that claim is that "I’m married, have five sons, five daughters-in-law, and now 18 grandchildren." Sorry, Mitt, but bullies have families, too. It doesn't make them any less despicable.

You might not remember the kids you tormented and you might not remember what it is you actually did to them, but here's the thing, Mitt. They do, and they've carried those events with them the rest of their lives. For you to such little compassion that you would brush these incidents off as merely being a part of growing up is disgusting. You didn't care about what you did then, and you certainly don't care about it now, as you've made abundantly clear. You know what? The more I learn about you, the more loathsome you become.
Jan Radder
20 April 2012 @ 06:00 pm
If you could, please take a moment to click on the link below and vote for "Every Everything" for Indiewire's Project of the Week.


And if you're so inclined, we're nearly 60% funded at our Kickstarter page with only 14 days to go. Here's the link for that:


Jan Radder
19 April 2012 @ 07:28 am
Whenever I used to tell people his name they'd usually think I'd said "Mouse," first. No, I'd say, "Mouth, because he never shuts up." We gave him the name when he was a kitten because the first two days we had him, as long as he was awake he was unable to exhale without meowing. Loudly. And endlessly. It was actually so bad that Haddayr said we'd have to get rid of him if he didn't stop because she couldn't take it anymore. Seeming to sense that his departure was imminent, he stopped. Sort of. Most of the time, at least. When people called, they'd usually hear him in the background and think he was a baby crying.

He was so sweet, curling up in my arms and holding onto my chest with his paw as he gazed up lovingly at me, or placing his foot over my mouth as if to say, "Don't speak, just hold me." When he was younger, he used to love to chase after balls, batting them across the floor and dribbling them like a soccer player. Our first Christmas with him, he stripped the tree of the small red apple ornaments we'd hung because he found that they bounced in odd directions, making them even more delightful than a ball could ever be. He was one of the gentlest cats I've known. When Arie was a preschooler and couldn't stop pestering Mouth, Mouth bit him. "Look, Mommy," Arie said, showing us where he'd been bit. There wasn't a mark on him. He'd only gently put his mouth on Arie's hand to say, "Stop, please." And he was so, so stubborn. I once brought a gerbil home for the summer from the preschool I taught at. Mouth and his brother, Bird, stared intently at the rodent, trying to figure out how to get into the cage. After a few hours, Bird grew bored and gave up. Mouth, though, circled the cage endlessly for days, searching for a way in until I finally put the cage in a closet because I was worried he would eventually find it.

He was tenacious, fierce, and loyal until the very end, raging against the dying of the light. This morning, he held on, refusing to let go of life, waiting for the boys to wake up so he could say goodbye to them. When they did wake up, each of them kissed him and stroked his soft head, and then, surrounded by his people and held lovingly in my arms, he died.

Goodbye, sweet wonderful Mouth. We loved you as fiercely as you loved us.

Jan Radder
Here it is -- the new documentary I'm producing: Every Everything: The Music, Life & Times of Grant Hart. Grant is the former drummer, singer, and co-songwriter of pretty much my all-time favorite band ever, Hüsker Dü, so it's a bit of a dream come true to be able to work with him. If you're so inclined, head on over to our Kickstarter page (click the link below) to learn more about the project (and if you'd like to help fund the project, there's some truly amazing rewards there). If you like what you see, please spread the word -- word of mouth really does amazing things. Thanks!

Jan Radder
16 March 2012 @ 04:54 pm
Here it is -- the new documentary I'm producing: Every Everything: The Music, Life & Times of Grant Hart. Grant is the former drummer, singer, and co-songwriter of pretty much my all-time favorite band ever, Hüsker Dü, so it's a bit of a dream come true to be able to work with him. If you're so inclined, head on over to our Kickstarter page (click the link below) to learn more about the project (and if you'd like to help fund the project, there's some truly amazing rewards there). If you like what you see, please spread the word -- word of mouth really does amazing things. Thanks!

Jan Radder
10 March 2012 @ 05:43 pm
I just looked and saw that the last time I posted anything in this journal was back in mid-November. I guess it's been a while. A long while. So I suppose that if anyone is bothering to read this I should probably tell you what I've been up to these past three-plus months.

Color Me Obsessed, the Replacements documentary, is nearly done with it's festival run. It's still playing at theaters around the country (and world, actually -- it just screened or will soon screen in Australia), but that will come to an end around June, and soon after that the DVD will be out as well (it's going to be packaged with over five hours of extras). I'm so incredibly grateful to have had the chance to work on it, and even more grateful to once again work with my old friend Gorman, who gave me my first movie job when I was just a fifteen-year-old kid obsessed with punk rock and horror movies. Working on CMO has given me an opportunity to get back into film making, something just a few years ago I never thought I'd do again.

This past August I worked on another music documentary, What Did You Expect?, which was a concert film of the Archers of Loaf playing at Cat's Cradle in North Carolina. I operated one of the cameras for that and then the past couple months worked as an assistant editor on it. We just finished the last cut a couple weeks ago. Tomorrow I start filming a third music doc, which I'm even more excited about than the other two. Though there's a few people who already know about it, I'm holding off on announcing what it is yet until our Kickstarter page is live. It's kind of crazy, though, because I'll be working with one of my musical idols. I keep thinking how if I could travel back in time and tell my fifteen-year-old self about this, he'd tell me I was full of shit.

I also started working at a preschool again, which has been surprisingly easy and fun. It's the first teaching I've done in nearly ten years. The pay is absolutely amazing, especially for a preschool job, and it's only part time, in the mornings, which means that I have the rest of the each day to do film and housework.

In my personal life, I haven't been this content or comfortable in a long time, which is a huge change from how I was feeling not that long ago. Some of that is because of the professional success I've been having, but it's also because of some very special people who are in my life and who have made my world so much richer and full. I'm still amazed at how many things just seemed to just click into place at the same time. Honestly, right now I couldn't be happier, which is kind of an understatement.
Jan Radder
21 November 2011 @ 03:45 pm
Looking for something to do after Thanksgiving other than stand in line at the mall or shove your way past hordes of fellow shoppers? Color Me Obsessed: A Film About The Replacement is playing at the Trylon this Friday, Saturday and Sunday (11/25, 11/26 & 11/27) @ 7pm and 9:30pm. I'll be doing a Q&A after Saturday's 7pm show and before the 9:30 one. So come on down to see for yourself why Rolling Stone named CMO "one of the seven best music docs of the year" and why the Village Voice called it "a rock version of Rashomon." Hope to see you there!
Jan Radder
18 October 2011 @ 03:06 pm
I have two invite codes to listen to Tom Waits new album, Bad As Me before it's released Monday the 24th. If you'd like one, leave a comment and I'll message it to you. Its good until this Friday.
Jan Radder
14 October 2011 @ 01:31 pm
He was a birthday present to me from Haddayr, both him and his brother, Mouth. She gave them to me in 1993, shortly after we'd moved to Minneapolis. The two of them came from a farm, south of the cities. The couple who was giving them away had found the two kittens abandoned beneath a tire, with no mother in sight. They'd had a cat of their own who had just given birth, and so they'd put the found kittens with her, and she happily nursed them along with her own litter.

When we brought them home, they were both so tiny, tiny, tiny, and they still hadn't yet been weaned so we gave them a bottle. Bird, upon sight of the bottle, shoved his brother aside and began gnawing happily at the nipple, almost growling as he drank thirstily. The two kittens were so small, I could fit them both in one hand.

Bird was such a sweet, loving cat. Whenever I was sad, he would seek me out and curl up in my lap, or butt his head against my chest. He had a game he would play, where whenever you pet him he would roll and purr and pull your hand to exactly where he wanted you to scratch him, and then he would get up and move just out of your reach, to see if you truly loved him and would follow. If you didn't, he'd come back for more pettings, but if you did move, he'd move again, just to get you to follow. When we would go on vacation, he'd meet us at the door when we came home, meowing anxiously, wondering why we'd left and where we'd gone and would we please never leave again. He used to wait in the window of our first apartment for Haddayr to come home, and when he'd see her walking down the street, he'd leap to the floor and run to the door to greet her. Even last night, as he lay on the floor unable to move more than a few steps at a time, he heard her pull up in the car outside and lifted his head to watch the door. And he had the sweetest face.

He'd been in renal failure for over four years, and I'd been keeping him alive by giving him regular fluids through an IV. This past week, he took a sudden downturn. He'd stopped peeing, had slowed down his drinking, and could no longer poop no matter how much he tried. And he'd started to lose control of his back legs. I knew that he didn't have much longer. Last night, I carried him up to our bed, in case he passed away in the night. This morning, he was still alive, but he could barely move. His back legs were useless -- he couldn't even stand up -- and his front legs weren't much better. I carried him downstairs, and the family and I gathered around him, thinking that this might be the end. At about a quarter after nine, he began to have spasms, and cried out. I picked him up and held him in my arms and comforted him the best I could, and felt his body shake and then become still. We buried him in our backyard.

There are certain pets that for whatever reason, are just those special pets you bond with and have a connection with like no other. He was one of those pets, as is his brother. It's hard to think of our home without him. I miss him. Terribly.

Years ago, Haddayr began singing the cats a song to the tune of "Black is the Color (Of My True Love's Hair)." It became their special song, and every time they heard the melody they would perk up and look around, and blink contentedly, because they knew it was for them. Even last night, when I sang it to him he perked up while he listened. When we buried Bird, we all sang him his song one last time, and then we said goodbye. Farewell, sweet, soft prince. You were loved dearly and you will be missed.

Blue, blue, blue is the color of my sweet Bird's fur
I love to hear his sweet, soft purr
The wildest eyes and the daintiest paws
That hold his tiny sharpened claws
Blue, blue, blue is the color of my sweet Bird's fur
Jan Radder
08 September 2011 @ 08:20 pm
Spinner just compiled a list of what they have called "the best music docs of all time." Included among classics like The Last Waltz, Gimme Shelter, and The Devil and Daniel Johnston was Color Me Obsessed. Yes, that's right. They named Color Me Obsessed one of the best music docs of all time. I think I'm going to faint. Seriously. Here's what they said:

Making a film about a band while refusing to include any interviews, stock footage, music or images that feature any members of the group might sound like documentary suicide, but for director and Replacements obsessive Gorman Bechard, it was a truly inspired experiment. In choosing to focus on everyone surrounding the Replacements, from fellow musicians and scenesters to critics and fans, and exploring their thoughts and feelings about the band, Bechard hasn't just made a good film about the rockers, he's created the ultimate testament to music nerd fandom and just how important the right band can be to the people who love them.

You can read the rest of the article here.