  Woody Harrelson Will Light Up (in) Any Room It's a Saturday in June and I'm running on time to meet Woody Harrelson, but one subway delay, one wrong turn, one mother with a double stroller failing to keep pace and clogging the already clogged sidewalks of midtown and I'll be running behind. Adding to my anxiety: the possibility that I have no voice, not so much as a croak (laryngitis, a bad case). Brushing past a pair of doormen, I enter the lobby of a residential tower on the southwest tip of Central Park. I beeline for the elevator bank, press the up button, and glance at my phone. Two minutes after the hour. I'm now officially late. My pores open, sweat gushing out. At last, a muted ding as the doors slide apart. I board. To calm myself, I pull from my bag a sheaf of clippings on Woody. The big takeaway of recent years: He spent his entire adult life cuckoo for cannabis and then, in 2016, gave it up.
And yet, as I emerge from the elevator, I detect, if I'm not mistaken (and, frankly, I don't see how I could be because it's that strong), the sweet, feral stink of marijuana. Moments later, I'm standing at the entryway of the designated apartment, which doesn't belong to Woody—he lives in Maui with his wife, Laura, and their three daughters, Deni, twenty-six; Zoe, twenty-two; and Makani, thirteen—but to a friend. I knock, and the door falls open as soon as my knuckles graze it. I take a tentative step inside. Then another. Then another. The smell is so strong now that it's almost a taste. I take two more steps, and I'm at the edge of a large living room. In the center of it is Woody. Here's what I see: a man of medium height, medium build, in a T-shirt and shorts. His hair is fair and mostly gone, and he keeps it short, the same length as the stubble on his jaw. His body is tight and muscular, yet he holds it in a loose and lithe way. His eyes are bright blue, and the whites, at this moment and for obvious reasons, are pale pink. He looks not just younger than his age, fifty-eight; he looks dramatically younger—early forties, tops.
Behind him is a table, long and wooden, atop which sit a bottle of mineral water; a manila envelope with the CAA insignia on it; the latest issue of Rolling Stone, the Weed Issue, of all issues, with, of all people, Willie Nelson, Grand Poobah of weed, on the cover, smoking, of all things, weed; two Ziploc baggies of weed; a Willie's Reserve vape cartridge; rolling papers; a lone sock.
The silence stretches, becoming awkward. To break it, I say, "Hi." My voice sounds like something scraped by a cheese grater and dropped to the bottom of a well. Woody hears it and his eyes go wide, and then he flashes that great Woody grin (gap-toothed, ear-to-ear) and lets out that great Woody giggle (half idiotic, half maniacal, all adorable) and in his great Woody drawl (languid- spacey, sexy-freaky, and purely stoned-sounding) says, "Whaaat? That is ridiculous." And I nod because, yes, my voice is ridiculous. My voice is fucking absurd.   The Hawaiian Shirt That'll Have Everyone Asking, 'Where'd You Get That?' We talk a lot here at Esquire HQ about what sets a certain piece of clothing apart from the rest. You just read it in the italicized passage above. "These picks are the best way to spend your hard-earned cash." And there are a lot of reasons why the products we're discussing are worthy of a portion of your paycheck. But more often than not, the question I tend to ask myself is, "Will this get our dear reader a compliment or two?" Yes, there are more important things in life than wearing things that spark inquiry. But a little confidence boost can go a long way in evolving from "Chris, you look nice today!" to "Man, Chris looks nice every day."
 Succession's Roy Family Is as Fucked Up as Any Real-Life Dynasty. Here's What to Remember About Season One. t's hard enough to keep up with the likes of the Trumps, the Murdochs and all the other powerful, evil families that have their money and interests tied up in global political and media empires. So, how can one be expected to keep up with the fictional Roy family, and all the players in their inner workings, on HBO's excellent, Shakespearean satirical drama Succession?  Woody Harrelson Explains How Willie Nelson Got Him to Start Smoking Weed Again Midway through 2017, noted pot smoker Woody Harrelson announced that he'd actually given up using marijuana after, "30 solid years of just partying too fucking hard." But when you're a celebrity with a penchant for a good time, a fat joint, and a friendship with Willie Nelson, that only lasts so long. In the September cover story for Esquire, Harrelson explains how his hiatus from cannabis was derailed by none other than Nelson himself.
 Toni Morrison Showed Us That Our People Were Always, Always Enough Yesterday, I was asked to write a tribute to Toni Morrison and I declined. Declined, most of all because I didn't think I could write something worthy of the woman who every writer I know with even half a brain considered—until her passing on Aug, 6 2019—America's greatest living writer. Today, I was given a second chance to muse on Ms. Morrison, and though nothing I can put down will suffice, here I am essaying in its etymological sense: an attempt.  14 Fall Jackets That'll Get You Excited for Autumn's Arrival Fall might just be the best season of all when it comes to getting dressed. The dog days of summer—with all that heat and humidity stifling not just your body but your sense of style, too—are finally over. The temperature is brisk, but not freezing. Jackets, once banished to the back of your closet, are back in play. And you want to make sure you've got the right one to wear when the opportunity presents itself.
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Sunday, August 11, 2019
Woody Harrelson Is a Bona Fide National Treasure
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