HOW MUCH IS A PINT OF MILK?
TIM BLAKE NELSON
When were you most starstruck?
Meeting the Coens. I dreamed always of getting to work with them. Then I met them, and that felt enough. Then they gave me the role in O Brother, Where Art Thou?, and my dreams came true in that regard.
What’s the worst thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?
Persimmon. It tastes great, and then your whole mouth suddenly goes dry. It’s radically unpleasant.
Do you have a signature dish?
I cook for the family every night I can. I have a really good rotation: pasta puttanesca, Cornish game hen, rack of lamb, jerk chicken. I’ve spent decades perfecting how to make a steak.
Do you have a nickname?
People call me TBN. My wife calls me Timmy. My real name is actually Tim — I ended up being Tim Blake because there was another Tim Nelson in [actors’ union] Equity. So Tim Blake Nelson is a nickname!
What one thing do you do better than anyone you know?
Sleep.
What movie have you seen the most? Monty Python And The Holy Grail. How many people give that answer? It’s probably as common as sand.
What scares you?
Divorce. What’s most important to me, the centre of my life, is my family. It’s the glue that holds everything together. I love being a husband and a father. I love the experience of it, and I love what it projects to my children. I want them to love that, and I want them to be decent and loyal.
How much is a pint of milk?
I don’t like milk. I love cheese. If I were a cheesemaker, I would pay five bucks, which is, I guess, three quid?
Do you have a tattoo?
No, in part because it’s discouraged by my religion. I’m Jewish, more culturally affiliated than literally religiously affiliated. But not tattooing myself, particularly as the son of a Holocaust refugee, is something to which I’m going to abide.
What’s the strangest place you’ve ever thrown up?
I went to arts camp as a boy in rural Oklahoma. In my final year, aged 17, I was at the big performance at this outdoor amphitheatre, in front of all the parents. I had a lot of beer with a few friends that morning, and was watching the orchestra... when I had the urge. I was in the middle of a row, surrounded by parents. I wove my way down this row and collapsed on the side, and, in front of God and everybody, lost every bit of that morning’s breakfast.
On a scale of one to ten, how hairy is your arse?
Three-and-a-half. It’s not so bad, for a man.
Do you have a favourite joke?
I do. But it’s long. This guy moves out West to retire. He’s sitting on his porch as the sun goes down on his first night of retirement. Life is perfect. He looks out on the horizon and sees this truck driving down the milelong driveway to his house. He’s thinking, “Oh God, all I wanted was solitude.” This old coot gets out of the truck and says [in thick country accent], “Well, hey there, neighbour! What’s goin’ on? I tell you what, we’re having a party at my place on Saturday night, and I sure wish you’d come.” The guy says, “I’m probably just gonna hang here.” The old coot says, “You don’t wanna miss this party. There’s going to be drinkin’. There’s going to be dancin’. There’s going to be fightin’. There’s going to be suckin’. And there’s going to be fuckin’.” The guy says, “I don’t think so.” The other guy says, “Let me repeat it! There’s going to be drinkin’, dancin’, fightin’, suckin’, and a-fuckin’. It’s gon’ be crazy, man!” The guy says, “Look, I came from the city, I came down here to avoid the crowds. I don’t like a lot of people.” The old coot replies: “Woah, woah there, it’s just gon’ be you and me!”