Five Questions with Bill Brown of the Dreamwhip Zine!
Bill Brown is the man behind the wonderful Dreamwhip zine, a tender, funny, truth-telling look at American living. His adventures show an America snow-capped and heat-exhausted, half-asleep on highways and dreaming out diner windows. We caught up with him and this is what he had to say.
Q: If the President of the United States asked to you describe “the soul of Dreamwhip” in under 100 words, what would you say?
[Recording made by secret tape recorder in the Oval Office]. Nice place, Mr. President! And look at all these couches! Would you mind if I crashed on one tonight? [Inaudible]. Hah. I’m just kidding. Anyway, I know you’re busy, but I wonder if you’d like to check out my zine? [Inaudible]. Well, it’s sort of a book. [Inaudible]. Yes, I wrote it myself. [Inaudible]. Thanks, I try to write neatly. [Inaudible]. It’s mostly about wandering around and getting lost and feeling all the stuff you feel when you’re on the road. [Inaudible]. No, those aren’t kindergarten drawings. [Inaudible]. I drew them. [Inaudible]. Yes, I’m serious. [Tape ends].
Q: When’s the next Dreamwhip coming out?
I’m hoping to finish #15 in a couple months. It’s about a bike trip I took a couple years ago. For some reason, it’s taking me longer and longer to finish these things.
Q: What was the last book or zine you read? How’d you like it?
I’ve been reading the Chainbreaker Bike Book, which is amazing. I bought it after my rear axle broke and I wanted to fix my bike myself and not have to deal with the jerky mechanic at the bike shop near my house. Yes, it explains how to fix your bike, but it’s also about the joy of being self-sufficient, and the poetry of ball bearings and coaster brakes.
Q: Is print dead?
No way! The more everything goes online, the more I love printed things. I like holding them, and cramming them in my backpack. I like rifling through pages. I like the way printed stuff ages, or shows its age. Pages wrinkle and tear. Colors fade. That blog from 2000 looks exactly the same today as it did in 2000. But the zine you bought in 2000 is marked by the last 10 years of slow buses and black coffee.
Q: What sort of stuff (writing-wise, film-wise, travel-wise, life-wise, whatever-wise) do you have coming up in the future?
[Inaudible].