Friday, December 25, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
My "Review" of Up In The Air
WARNING - ADULT LANGUAGE in this post.
Although I started this blog saying I wasn't going to review film or music - I have to make a bit of an exception for this film. I saw Jason Reitman's Up In The Air today and I have to make some comments. But they are not so much about the actors playing the role, but more so about the themes in the film and my reaction to them in relation to my past work experiences.
So here goes...
Up In The Air, (written, produced and directed by Jason Reitman) affected me more than I had expected it would given how much I've read about it.
There is a lot going on in my head right now. My thoughts are about how this film brought some of my own life experiences back from the recesses of my memory reminding me of the emotion of the time.
You see I've been on both sides of the desk that Clooney's character Ryan inhabits.
I've been fired (downsized) and I've had to fire people. I related so well to one comment Ryan makes about his job. Paraphrasing here - he says his job entails doing something that the "pussy" manager at the company is too much of a coward to do himself.
I've been Ryan - having to fire someone who really, through no fault of their own, lost their job. That word again "downsizing" so much of a cookie-cutter MBA graduate (i.e know nothing fuck up) kind of word! The pussy manager I had to deal with was that coward who, frankly, would not have had the ability to do so with kindness. And he also would not have left the person with any dignity.
And although I had to do it more times than I wish, no one ever knew the emotional toll it took on me. Many a night after having such an experience I would go home, think about what I had done that day and spend the rest of the night throwing up.
Yes, there were some who deserved to be fired - but there were others who did not and those were the ones that wrenched at my soul. My only choice was to fire or walk away from my job and at the time, I didn't have the luxury of being able to do that.
I think many people (especially those who have recently or who have ever lost their jobs) will relate to this film because Jason has written words that will resonate with many.
As to the audience reaction - laughter at the appropriate times (some quite long and loud) and other times, quiet murmurs of agreement or acknowledgment that they understood and perhaps could relate to the issues being portrayed or discussed.
There is a lot here to make you think and reflect on the choices you've made in your life. Depending on those, this film may make you thank your lucky stars or make you a bit sad.
The interviews with the people who had actually lost their jobs recently - the non-actors were also very insightful and poignant.
I also liked the actor J.K. Simmons very small (in time) contribution but very eye-opening in effect. I won't discuss what his "firing" entailed - I think you should go see the film for yourself so I do recommend it heartily - despite Clooney being in it. (Yes, I'm being facetious!)
George does a lovely job with this role. Anna is very engaging and affecting. Yes, I think I used the right word. Vera is surprising. She says to George/Ryan in the film, "Think of me as you with a vagina" and that really says it all. I won't say anything else.
Do go see this film. I think you will not only enjoy it but will give yourself an opportunity to look at your life to see where you stand in your happiness quotient. Hopefully, it will be very high!
Although I started this blog saying I wasn't going to review film or music - I have to make a bit of an exception for this film. I saw Jason Reitman's Up In The Air today and I have to make some comments. But they are not so much about the actors playing the role, but more so about the themes in the film and my reaction to them in relation to my past work experiences.
So here goes...
Up In The Air, (written, produced and directed by Jason Reitman) affected me more than I had expected it would given how much I've read about it.
There is a lot going on in my head right now. My thoughts are about how this film brought some of my own life experiences back from the recesses of my memory reminding me of the emotion of the time.
You see I've been on both sides of the desk that Clooney's character Ryan inhabits.
I've been fired (downsized) and I've had to fire people. I related so well to one comment Ryan makes about his job. Paraphrasing here - he says his job entails doing something that the "pussy" manager at the company is too much of a coward to do himself.
I've been Ryan - having to fire someone who really, through no fault of their own, lost their job. That word again "downsizing" so much of a cookie-cutter MBA graduate (i.e know nothing fuck up) kind of word! The pussy manager I had to deal with was that coward who, frankly, would not have had the ability to do so with kindness. And he also would not have left the person with any dignity.
And although I had to do it more times than I wish, no one ever knew the emotional toll it took on me. Many a night after having such an experience I would go home, think about what I had done that day and spend the rest of the night throwing up.
Yes, there were some who deserved to be fired - but there were others who did not and those were the ones that wrenched at my soul. My only choice was to fire or walk away from my job and at the time, I didn't have the luxury of being able to do that.
I think many people (especially those who have recently or who have ever lost their jobs) will relate to this film because Jason has written words that will resonate with many.
As to the audience reaction - laughter at the appropriate times (some quite long and loud) and other times, quiet murmurs of agreement or acknowledgment that they understood and perhaps could relate to the issues being portrayed or discussed.
There is a lot here to make you think and reflect on the choices you've made in your life. Depending on those, this film may make you thank your lucky stars or make you a bit sad.
The interviews with the people who had actually lost their jobs recently - the non-actors were also very insightful and poignant.
I also liked the actor J.K. Simmons very small (in time) contribution but very eye-opening in effect. I won't discuss what his "firing" entailed - I think you should go see the film for yourself so I do recommend it heartily - despite Clooney being in it. (Yes, I'm being facetious!)
George does a lovely job with this role. Anna is very engaging and affecting. Yes, I think I used the right word. Vera is surprising. She says to George/Ryan in the film, "Think of me as you with a vagina" and that really says it all. I won't say anything else.
Do go see this film. I think you will not only enjoy it but will give yourself an opportunity to look at your life to see where you stand in your happiness quotient. Hopefully, it will be very high!
Monday, November 2, 2009
Magnificent Seven Theme
This and the Big Country opening title music are the best pieces of western music I've ever heard.
Bobby McFerren Bach/Ave Maria
Bobby sings Bach 1st Prelude and audience (choir singers?) sing Ave Maria along with him. Lovely.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Where the Hell is Matt?
A friend sent me the link to this video. It's simple, it's silly and yet it's compelling. I guy with a simple idea. He filmed it and gave us such a lovely little film. As much as we think we are different, in many basic respects, we are all the same. It's another example of how music (and in this case a silly little dance) brings us together. Enjoy!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Kids Learn to Read Through Song
Now I knew that I could learn faster when I heard a song performed by The Fifth Dimension many, many years ago. It was from their "Portrait" album and was titled, "The Declaration" part of a trio of songs. As it aptly states, it's a song derived from the words in the second paragraph of the Declaration of Independence. Which to this day, I can recite because I hear the tune in my mind and the words come with it - "We hold these truths to be be self-evident, that all men are created equal. That they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights. That among these, are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. And to secure these rights, governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed..."
Not to bad for an old broad who hasn't thought of that song in decades!
But enough about me - this is about kids learning to read.
I heard a news story about this earlier today and went looking for the actual program. The link below takes you the website of the company that created the program and has a video that explains how it works. Unfortunately, I'm not computer savvy enough to figure out a way to post the video directly so you'll have to click the link on their website.
Fascinating concept don't you think? Kids learning to read by putting the words to music? I always wondered why kids could repeat every nasty little verse in a gangsta rap song but couldn't read their textbooks if their life depended on it.
So now we know. In some way, in some manner, the music (again back to my original post about why I decided to do this blog) seems to have some deep meaning for us. Not the lyrics but the actual tones and melodies. And isn't it great that, although I still don't have an answer as to why we love music, someone has figured out a way to take our love of musical tone and use it to help kids learn to read faster and with better comprehension? I for one think it's great. And I hope more educators take a look at this program and consider it for their curriculum!
http://www.elpcorp.com/content.cfm?page_id=191
Not to bad for an old broad who hasn't thought of that song in decades!
But enough about me - this is about kids learning to read.
I heard a news story about this earlier today and went looking for the actual program. The link below takes you the website of the company that created the program and has a video that explains how it works. Unfortunately, I'm not computer savvy enough to figure out a way to post the video directly so you'll have to click the link on their website.
Fascinating concept don't you think? Kids learning to read by putting the words to music? I always wondered why kids could repeat every nasty little verse in a gangsta rap song but couldn't read their textbooks if their life depended on it.
So now we know. In some way, in some manner, the music (again back to my original post about why I decided to do this blog) seems to have some deep meaning for us. Not the lyrics but the actual tones and melodies. And isn't it great that, although I still don't have an answer as to why we love music, someone has figured out a way to take our love of musical tone and use it to help kids learn to read faster and with better comprehension? I for one think it's great. And I hope more educators take a look at this program and consider it for their curriculum!
http://www.elpcorp.com/content.cfm?page_id=191
Monday, September 28, 2009
Aishwarya Rai
Exploring different types of music. Now I don't understand a word of what they are saying but the music and dance moves in this video clip quickly grow on you! Aishwarya Rai is described as the most beautiful woman in the world; I don't know if that is true as I've never seen every woman in the world but she is very pretty and she does have very beautiful eyes. Enjoy!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Up In The Air
Reitman's new film. I've decided to post the trailer now that I heard some of the commentary made at the TIFF press conference. Reitman's comments there are what have convinced me to see the film. It will be interesting to see which themes are explored and in what depth.
Jason Rietman is a Scaredy Cat!
Recent Tweet from Reitman: "Fuck Paranormal Activity was scary. Freaked out whole gang. Felt bad for the folks who went home alone. Keeping my MagLight near the bed."
Well now, should we take that as a note that we won't be seeing his director's credit on Saw VIII? Thank goodness! I prefer his films to any horror flick any day and you won't see me at the box office buying a Saw ticket. Hell, you couldn't pay me to see a horror film. Why? Because I don't get the appeal and I have issue with films that marry killing, blood and gore with barely disguised excuses to show some young actress' ill-advised enhancement surgery. But that's just me. Obviously there seems to be a huge market for this. Sad commentary on the film viewing audience if you ask me. Okay, even if you don't ask me!
Here's an idea, maybe Reitman's next directorial project could be to direct Jennifer Aniston in film. She desperately needs a good project and good direction. How does one go from "The Good Girl" to "Love Happens?" Watching Jennifer in this film was like watching a plate of boiled potatoes. Bland, bland, bland.
And yes, I did say that I wasn't going to review films but I just feel the bucks I paid for this film were ill advised! Martin Sheen was woefully unused. He's a wonderful actor and I could have watched more of him. Hell, I could have watched more of the parrot! But that's just me.
Well now, should we take that as a note that we won't be seeing his director's credit on Saw VIII? Thank goodness! I prefer his films to any horror flick any day and you won't see me at the box office buying a Saw ticket. Hell, you couldn't pay me to see a horror film. Why? Because I don't get the appeal and I have issue with films that marry killing, blood and gore with barely disguised excuses to show some young actress' ill-advised enhancement surgery. But that's just me. Obviously there seems to be a huge market for this. Sad commentary on the film viewing audience if you ask me. Okay, even if you don't ask me!
Here's an idea, maybe Reitman's next directorial project could be to direct Jennifer Aniston in film. She desperately needs a good project and good direction. How does one go from "The Good Girl" to "Love Happens?" Watching Jennifer in this film was like watching a plate of boiled potatoes. Bland, bland, bland.
And yes, I did say that I wasn't going to review films but I just feel the bucks I paid for this film were ill advised! Martin Sheen was woefully unused. He's a wonderful actor and I could have watched more of him. Hell, I could have watched more of the parrot! But that's just me.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Power or Fear?
There are so many stories lately about celebrities suing sites and blogs because they don't like what they read or the videos that are posted. The latest is the Dane couple or McSteamy - as the husband is known.
Now I realize that everyone deserves their privacy but don't you think that part of the privilige of privacy comes the responsibility not to do something stupid that could jeopardize it? I mean really, who filmed their private session? Not a pap from outside a window - no, they did.
And I have to ask - how did the blog they are suing get the video? Was it stolen from them? Did a worker take it? Really, how did it become public? Perhaps it was someone they knew who took it and had it posted. I mean really, who else had access to it? That part seems a bit foggy to me - I haven't kept that close a watch on this - but that's the first question I would ask if I was unfortunate enough to get stuck on a jury for this.
Look in all of my 50+ years of living I have managed to have personal and romantic relationships with the opposite sex that did not include our taking video of it.
You want your life to be private? THEN DON'T FILM IT! Especially if you're a celebrity cause you don't really know who your true friends are or who are just going to try to use you to further their own careers.
You like to film your sexual/bathtub/bedroom exploits? Well then, perhaps a famous movie line makes sense here - "Stupid is as stupid does."
And where does this leave bloggers who have followers who comment on their blogs? Especially celebrity related blogs?
Well it leaves them in a situation where they either let it all go - Perez Hilton's blog comes to mind - some of the most disgusting commentary shows up on that blog's comments pages which are not moderated.
Or you have bloggers who choose fear over free speech; fear of getting sued which then makes them into what seems like power gods - moderating the comments of others to the point that it's not even a discussion - just disjointed bits and pieces of thoughts.
Is it done out of fear or is it down for a sense of power and to control others?
The individual bloggers are the only ones who know for sure and only they can determine if it worth it to continue.
One thing is certain - once a blog becomes a pain - unless I'm making my primary living from it - it's gone. And one thing is also clear - I doubt I'd want to make a living from blogging - it would take away the fun - at least for me.
Now I realize that everyone deserves their privacy but don't you think that part of the privilige of privacy comes the responsibility not to do something stupid that could jeopardize it? I mean really, who filmed their private session? Not a pap from outside a window - no, they did.
And I have to ask - how did the blog they are suing get the video? Was it stolen from them? Did a worker take it? Really, how did it become public? Perhaps it was someone they knew who took it and had it posted. I mean really, who else had access to it? That part seems a bit foggy to me - I haven't kept that close a watch on this - but that's the first question I would ask if I was unfortunate enough to get stuck on a jury for this.
Look in all of my 50+ years of living I have managed to have personal and romantic relationships with the opposite sex that did not include our taking video of it.
You want your life to be private? THEN DON'T FILM IT! Especially if you're a celebrity cause you don't really know who your true friends are or who are just going to try to use you to further their own careers.
You like to film your sexual/bathtub/bedroom exploits? Well then, perhaps a famous movie line makes sense here - "Stupid is as stupid does."
And where does this leave bloggers who have followers who comment on their blogs? Especially celebrity related blogs?
Well it leaves them in a situation where they either let it all go - Perez Hilton's blog comes to mind - some of the most disgusting commentary shows up on that blog's comments pages which are not moderated.
Or you have bloggers who choose fear over free speech; fear of getting sued which then makes them into what seems like power gods - moderating the comments of others to the point that it's not even a discussion - just disjointed bits and pieces of thoughts.
Is it done out of fear or is it down for a sense of power and to control others?
The individual bloggers are the only ones who know for sure and only they can determine if it worth it to continue.
One thing is certain - once a blog becomes a pain - unless I'm making my primary living from it - it's gone. And one thing is also clear - I doubt I'd want to make a living from blogging - it would take away the fun - at least for me.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Busy, busy, busy!
Haven't posted much lately - it's been very busy but I will work on posting more often. Not because anyone is panting to hear my thoughts or see what I post, but as a reminder that I want to keep finding artists whose music or film move or inspire me.
I have been finding artists and music that I enjoy that I would would not have found had it not been for social media, but my business has picked up so much that more of my time has been devoted to that - which is a good thing!
I will note that I have changed my mind about seeing Jason Reitman's film, Up In The Air, which opens around Thanksgiving. I watched the Toronto Film Festival press conference for this film and have been reading very complimentary reviews of it also, so after much thought I will go to see it - despite my issues with its star.
I won't post reviews but I will comment once I've seen it.
I have been finding artists and music that I enjoy that I would would not have found had it not been for social media, but my business has picked up so much that more of my time has been devoted to that - which is a good thing!
I will note that I have changed my mind about seeing Jason Reitman's film, Up In The Air, which opens around Thanksgiving. I watched the Toronto Film Festival press conference for this film and have been reading very complimentary reviews of it also, so after much thought I will go to see it - despite my issues with its star.
I won't post reviews but I will comment once I've seen it.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Laura Marling
I listened to this song by Laura Marling called "New Romantic" and even though the melody on this song is quite simple - what I mean is that the chords she plays on her guitar are repetitive - yet, when she mixes in her voice the melody becomes quite pleasing.
The video itself seems simple at first - a gal sitting in a stark room with just her guitar, but then I noticed the shadows making patterns & words behind, below and above her illustrating her lyrics. Listening to the lyrics I found that she's quite a storyteller and I felt myself drawn to what she was saying. "Maybe I should give in, give up trying to be thin, give up and turn into my mother, god knows I love her."
So I find myself now intrigued and wanting to hear what else she has written because I find that her music & lyrics are enhanced by her vocal ability. She's another example of a someone that I find intriguing. And what I find most pleasing about her is the tone of her voice.
It makes one wonder - if her words & melody were sung by someone else would they be as lyrical and pleasing to the ear?
The video itself seems simple at first - a gal sitting in a stark room with just her guitar, but then I noticed the shadows making patterns & words behind, below and above her illustrating her lyrics. Listening to the lyrics I found that she's quite a storyteller and I felt myself drawn to what she was saying. "Maybe I should give in, give up trying to be thin, give up and turn into my mother, god knows I love her."
So I find myself now intrigued and wanting to hear what else she has written because I find that her music & lyrics are enhanced by her vocal ability. She's another example of a someone that I find intriguing. And what I find most pleasing about her is the tone of her voice.
It makes one wonder - if her words & melody were sung by someone else would they be as lyrical and pleasing to the ear?
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Bad Boy of Opera - Ki Fitzgerald
I find the photo below most appealing! I love the reflection coming off the water and that it's in black and white.
I don't know much about this artist - per his "tweets" on Twitter he seems to be working on a debut opera CD. And he seems like a nice enough "bloke" I believe is the word that is used in the UK. :-)
Perhaps when it comes out I'll be able to find a video of him performing to post along with this picture. Good luck to you on your debut!
Photo from BBOO twitpic page. http://twitpic.com/76ue3
I don't know much about this artist - per his "tweets" on Twitter he seems to be working on a debut opera CD. And he seems like a nice enough "bloke" I believe is the word that is used in the UK. :-)
Perhaps when it comes out I'll be able to find a video of him performing to post along with this picture. Good luck to you on your debut!
Photo from BBOO twitpic page. http://twitpic.com/76ue3
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Zoe Keating Most Fascinating Cellist
You can listen to & download three of her compositions at the link to her website below.
Most fascinating cello playing I've ever heard!
http://zoekeating.com/projects.html
Now why do I find her music fascinating? Well it goes back to my first post. I want to explore why music is so appealing to us. Her music is difficult for me to describe other than it is so compelling. Not quite what one would expect from a cello.
Info on her site tells us that she plays each layer of music and mixes it on a computer to get the sensory pleasing sounds that come out of her instrument. (Oh, hell that sounded dirty didn't it! HA) But as I said, difficult to describe. You have to listen to it.
Most fascinating cello playing I've ever heard!
http://zoekeating.com/projects.html
Now why do I find her music fascinating? Well it goes back to my first post. I want to explore why music is so appealing to us. Her music is difficult for me to describe other than it is so compelling. Not quite what one would expect from a cello.
Info on her site tells us that she plays each layer of music and mixes it on a computer to get the sensory pleasing sounds that come out of her instrument. (Oh, hell that sounded dirty didn't it! HA) But as I said, difficult to describe. You have to listen to it.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
My Immortal
Okay, this video will probably get me in trouble - don't pay attention to the title on the video - the music is My Immortal by Evanescence- but the gal who put this together merged two things that I love - this song with visuals from Pride & Prejudice with Kiera Knightly and Matthew Macfayden.
The lead singer's vocals are lovely in this song. The sound of her voice is exceedingly pleasing. The visuals from the film - especially on the big screen often gave me chills - the good kind! I loved the scene where Mr. Darcy is walking toward Lizzie in the early morning - he appears out of the misty fog and as the scene plays out the sun starts to rise. What can I say - hopeless romantic - that's me.
So enjoy while it's still up.
The lead singer's vocals are lovely in this song. The sound of her voice is exceedingly pleasing. The visuals from the film - especially on the big screen often gave me chills - the good kind! I loved the scene where Mr. Darcy is walking toward Lizzie in the early morning - he appears out of the misty fog and as the scene plays out the sun starts to rise. What can I say - hopeless romantic - that's me.
So enjoy while it's still up.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
John C Mayer - Curiously Surprising
I find myself often curiously surprised by this young man. I have heard his music in the past and enjoyed many more of his songs than I realized. What I mean is often I have heard a song I liked but did not realize he was the musician.
But his exploits as reported in the press gave me the impression that he was just another musician hell bent on living the good life and his music was just a means to an end. That end seemed to be (again per press reports) partying & dating famous actresses.
And then I find something like this video. It's film he took in Japan a few months ago. It's quiet and reflective and shows a much deeper understanding of human nature than I would have given him credit for in the past. He shows the things that are truly beautiful in this world are often just simple things; the small enjoyments we can derive from each day and from viewing and observing the passing world around us. It fascinates me to find this type of knowledge in one so young.
So perhaps I will have to re-examine and re-evaluate my opinion of this young man. How refreshing - someone who can surprise you by their wisdom and express it so beautifully. I look forward to seeing and hearing more of this young man's art.
Enjoy.
But his exploits as reported in the press gave me the impression that he was just another musician hell bent on living the good life and his music was just a means to an end. That end seemed to be (again per press reports) partying & dating famous actresses.
And then I find something like this video. It's film he took in Japan a few months ago. It's quiet and reflective and shows a much deeper understanding of human nature than I would have given him credit for in the past. He shows the things that are truly beautiful in this world are often just simple things; the small enjoyments we can derive from each day and from viewing and observing the passing world around us. It fascinates me to find this type of knowledge in one so young.
So perhaps I will have to re-examine and re-evaluate my opinion of this young man. How refreshing - someone who can surprise you by their wisdom and express it so beautifully. I look forward to seeing and hearing more of this young man's art.
Enjoy.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Perception: A True Story
Washington, D.C.
Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007.
The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time it was estimated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.
After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.
4 minutes later:
The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.
6 minutes:
A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.
10 minutes:
A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time.
This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.
In the 45 minutes that the musician played, only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.
No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.
This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.
The outlines were: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?
One of the possible conclusions of this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made.... How many other things are we missing?
_________
FYI - The story above was sent to me via email today. I checked it on snopes.com and found some additional information. The Washington Post was awarded a Pulitzer Prize in the feature writing category for Gene Weingarten's April 2007 story about this experiment.
Josh Bell - playing in the Metro Station:
Monday, August 3, 2009
A Life Without Left Turns - Michael Gartner In USA TODAY
Right off the bat I want to say that I am merely posting here the link and text of the editorial by Michael Gartner in USA TODAY, June 15, 2006.
The text of this was sent to me in an email today over three years later and it touched me so much I decided to post here. The original can be found at the following link:
http://www.usatoday.com/news/opinion/columnist/2006-06-15-gartner_x.htm
A life without left turns
Posted 6/15/2006 9:57 PM ET
My father never drove a car.
Well, that's not quite right.
I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet.
"In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it."
At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in:
"Oh, bull——!" she said. "He hit a horse."
"Well," my father said, "there was that, too."
So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars — the Kollingses next door had a green 1941 Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford — but we had none. My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines, would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.
Our 1950 Chevy
My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would explain, and that was that. But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we'll get one."
It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first.
But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown. It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car.
Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my mother. So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember him saying once.
For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps — though they seldom left the city limits — and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.
The ritual walk to church
Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage. (Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.) He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning. If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home. If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church.
He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow."
After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along. If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio. (In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored.") If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out — and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream.
As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?" "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.
"No left turns," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic. As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn."
"What?" I said again. "No left turns," he said. "Think about it. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rights."
"You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support. "No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works."
But then she added: "Except when your father loses count."
I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing. "Loses count?" I asked. "Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again."
I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked.
"No," he said. "If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week."
My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving. That was in 1999, when she was 90. She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year, at 102. They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000. (Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom — the house had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.) He continued to walk daily — he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising — and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died.
A happy life
One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news. A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer." "You're probably right," I said. "Why would you say that?" he countered, somewhat irritated. "Because you're 102 years old," I said. "Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day. That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night. He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: "I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet." An hour or so later, he spoke his last words:
"I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have."
A short time later, he died.
I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long.
I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life.
Or because he quit taking left turns.
Michael Gartner has been editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing.
The text of this was sent to me in an email today over three years later and it touched me so much I decided to post here. The original can be found at the following link:
http://www.usatoday.com/news/opinion/columnist/2006-06-15-gartner_x.htm
A life without left turns
Posted 6/15/2006 9:57 PM ET
My father never drove a car.
Well, that's not quite right.
I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet.
"In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it."
At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in:
"Oh, bull——!" she said. "He hit a horse."
"Well," my father said, "there was that, too."
So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars — the Kollingses next door had a green 1941 Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford — but we had none. My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines, would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.
Our 1950 Chevy
My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would explain, and that was that. But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we'll get one."
It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first.
But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown. It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car.
Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my mother. So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember him saying once.
For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps — though they seldom left the city limits — and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.
The ritual walk to church
Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage. (Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.) He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning. If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home. If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church.
He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow."
After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along. If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio. (In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored.") If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out — and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream.
As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?" "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.
"No left turns," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic. As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn."
"What?" I said again. "No left turns," he said. "Think about it. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rights."
"You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support. "No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works."
But then she added: "Except when your father loses count."
I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing. "Loses count?" I asked. "Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again."
I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked.
"No," he said. "If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week."
My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving. That was in 1999, when she was 90. She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year, at 102. They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000. (Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom — the house had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.) He continued to walk daily — he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising — and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died.
A happy life
One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news. A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer." "You're probably right," I said. "Why would you say that?" he countered, somewhat irritated. "Because you're 102 years old," I said. "Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day. That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night. He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: "I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet." An hour or so later, he spoke his last words:
"I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have."
A short time later, he died.
I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long.
I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life.
Or because he quit taking left turns.
Michael Gartner has been editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing.
Monday, July 27, 2009
The Ugly Truth - Warning Spoilers and R rated language.
It's rated R and the language certainly warrants it. But I'm not here to post a review. I want to discuss the theme. Rom Com - Girl meets guy; Girl thinks guy is crude and crass; girl has to work with guy. Then guy decides he's going to tell her what men really want to help her get the guy who she recently met that has "9 out of 10 attributes on her list" or something to that affect.
Gerard Butler's character tells her that men are visual. On an earlier cable show he makes it clear that if a gal wants to get a guy - he says it's just two words: Stair Master.
Now I found that offensive and wondered, "Is this really what all men want"? Just looks with great tits and ass? How does that work though? Not all guys are going to get a good looking girl. But that's what they want? Wow! How shallow. But then I thought to myself, it is any less shallow than the gal who wants the good-looking doctor, who takes her on picnics and likes cats? (Yes, that's in the film).
Let me digress for a sec. I went to a local department store the day after I saw the film and mentioned it to one of the female clerks in the teen department. She couldn't have been older than 18 or 19 herself and when I mentioned who was in the film (after she asked) she says to her coworker, "Oooo, he's the guy that had the 8 pack in 300!" To which I replied, "He doesn't have an 8 pack now - more like he's had one too many six-packs of beer."
Of course I was just trying to be funny - he's not that bad - okay maybe a bit chunky. But I realized I was doing the same thing that many men seem to do - judge someone by their looks. So was I any better than any guy out there? Are women any better in general?
I mean, many of us talk about wanting a nice guy who'll respect us and who'll choose us for who were are inside, not what we look like outside. And yet, we too often do the same thing. Judge a person by their looks. Determine too often who they are only by how they look and not by the person they really are inside.
And what about these damn lists that so many women have. A checklist to determine if the guy passes muster. I realize shared values is important but are we so rigid that if someone doesn't have most if not all the attributes we don't give them a chance?
So I started to look at the attributes I would look for in a man. And I realized, even if subliminally, I do have a list. Albeit a short one, but a list nonetheless.
Here's my list:
1. Sense of humor - life throws so many challenges & curves at us - it'd be nice to be with someone who can laugh off some of those curves.
2. Yet, despite having a sense of humor - knowing when it's appropriate and when too much is too much. Perhaps meaning that they are mature enough to realize when humor is not appropriate.
3. A guy who has a job - I believe both should share in the living expenses. He doesn't have to be rich - in fact - far from it. I would never want to be with someone just for their money. Yet, I've seen too many women use that as the main and often only criteria to being with a man. Sure, you may have nice things, you may live in a nice house and your kids will go to good schools - but if you're with someone only for their money and can't stand them otherwise, you've set yourself up for many unhappy years. I guess you could go shopping to ease the pain - or worse turn to the bottle or drugs - but then what life did you really live? Hey, I figure we have a finite amount of time on this earth (Shirley McClain of course, being the exception) so I'd sure hate to live my life and be on my deathbed and regret the life I lived. How sad.
4. A guy who has a good relationship with his family, but isn't tied to anyone member (you momma's boy know exactly who I'm talking about!) It's good that a guy gets along with and respects his mother - but please - once you're in a serious relationship with someone - cut the apron strings and move on to what should be your first priority. The relationship, if this is the person with whom you've decided and committed to spending the rest of your life, should be your first priority.
5. Someone who does not smoke, drink excessively nor do drugs. Harsh? I think not. I'm into keeping my health - living with a smoker would seriously compromise that and someone who drinks excessively and does drugs isn't someone that I want to spend time with. Again with the thought that we have a finite amount of time on this earth - I would hate to spend it being an enabler or being abused because of the drug or alcohol use.
6. Perhaps a certain level of intelligence. I don't mean he has to be a genius but seriously someone who isn't dumber than a doornail would be nice. Again too harsh? Well I think not. I dated a guy in my youth who was good looking and I'll have to admit very good in bed. But he was dumb. Not just uneducated - dumb. He couldn't even tell when I was joking. He didn't get "wit." And I have to sheepishly admit, that once I realized how truly dumb he was the sex and his looks became so less important. Dare I say, he was too boring? I couldn't have a conversation with him. So at least some intelligence would be great.
So we all seem to have our lists. Guys may have much shorter lists:
1. Female (or not)
2. Good tits
3. Good ass
4. Breathing
And not necessarily in that order.
Okay, I'm being mean. I'm sure there are many, many men out there that look for more in a woman. And should one present himself - I'll be sure to let you know.
Gerard Butler's character tells her that men are visual. On an earlier cable show he makes it clear that if a gal wants to get a guy - he says it's just two words: Stair Master.
Now I found that offensive and wondered, "Is this really what all men want"? Just looks with great tits and ass? How does that work though? Not all guys are going to get a good looking girl. But that's what they want? Wow! How shallow. But then I thought to myself, it is any less shallow than the gal who wants the good-looking doctor, who takes her on picnics and likes cats? (Yes, that's in the film).
Let me digress for a sec. I went to a local department store the day after I saw the film and mentioned it to one of the female clerks in the teen department. She couldn't have been older than 18 or 19 herself and when I mentioned who was in the film (after she asked) she says to her coworker, "Oooo, he's the guy that had the 8 pack in 300!" To which I replied, "He doesn't have an 8 pack now - more like he's had one too many six-packs of beer."
Of course I was just trying to be funny - he's not that bad - okay maybe a bit chunky. But I realized I was doing the same thing that many men seem to do - judge someone by their looks. So was I any better than any guy out there? Are women any better in general?
I mean, many of us talk about wanting a nice guy who'll respect us and who'll choose us for who were are inside, not what we look like outside. And yet, we too often do the same thing. Judge a person by their looks. Determine too often who they are only by how they look and not by the person they really are inside.
And what about these damn lists that so many women have. A checklist to determine if the guy passes muster. I realize shared values is important but are we so rigid that if someone doesn't have most if not all the attributes we don't give them a chance?
So I started to look at the attributes I would look for in a man. And I realized, even if subliminally, I do have a list. Albeit a short one, but a list nonetheless.
Here's my list:
1. Sense of humor - life throws so many challenges & curves at us - it'd be nice to be with someone who can laugh off some of those curves.
2. Yet, despite having a sense of humor - knowing when it's appropriate and when too much is too much. Perhaps meaning that they are mature enough to realize when humor is not appropriate.
3. A guy who has a job - I believe both should share in the living expenses. He doesn't have to be rich - in fact - far from it. I would never want to be with someone just for their money. Yet, I've seen too many women use that as the main and often only criteria to being with a man. Sure, you may have nice things, you may live in a nice house and your kids will go to good schools - but if you're with someone only for their money and can't stand them otherwise, you've set yourself up for many unhappy years. I guess you could go shopping to ease the pain - or worse turn to the bottle or drugs - but then what life did you really live? Hey, I figure we have a finite amount of time on this earth (Shirley McClain of course, being the exception) so I'd sure hate to live my life and be on my deathbed and regret the life I lived. How sad.
4. A guy who has a good relationship with his family, but isn't tied to anyone member (you momma's boy know exactly who I'm talking about!) It's good that a guy gets along with and respects his mother - but please - once you're in a serious relationship with someone - cut the apron strings and move on to what should be your first priority. The relationship, if this is the person with whom you've decided and committed to spending the rest of your life, should be your first priority.
5. Someone who does not smoke, drink excessively nor do drugs. Harsh? I think not. I'm into keeping my health - living with a smoker would seriously compromise that and someone who drinks excessively and does drugs isn't someone that I want to spend time with. Again with the thought that we have a finite amount of time on this earth - I would hate to spend it being an enabler or being abused because of the drug or alcohol use.
6. Perhaps a certain level of intelligence. I don't mean he has to be a genius but seriously someone who isn't dumber than a doornail would be nice. Again too harsh? Well I think not. I dated a guy in my youth who was good looking and I'll have to admit very good in bed. But he was dumb. Not just uneducated - dumb. He couldn't even tell when I was joking. He didn't get "wit." And I have to sheepishly admit, that once I realized how truly dumb he was the sex and his looks became so less important. Dare I say, he was too boring? I couldn't have a conversation with him. So at least some intelligence would be great.
So we all seem to have our lists. Guys may have much shorter lists:
1. Female (or not)
2. Good tits
3. Good ass
4. Breathing
And not necessarily in that order.
Okay, I'm being mean. I'm sure there are many, many men out there that look for more in a woman. And should one present himself - I'll be sure to let you know.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Gonna Be Starting Something
Why am I here? Probably the same reason others are here - I have something to say and I'm able to express my thoughts without being interrupted. My initial thought is to make this music and film related - but not in the way you might think.
I'm not interested in meeting or following the careers musicians or filmmakers. This won't be a blog about where your favorite artist may be performing or when a film will be opening - I just want to explore some of the themes that I find intriguing in films and in music that something that a site like Twitter does not give me enough characters to do. But if a musician or filmmaker wants to comment on the topics on here, they are welcome to do so.
We put so much emphasis in the quick, the instant gratification; the short snippets of thoughts that I felt stifled. And when I've tried to bring up some of these thoughts on other blogs I felt that others may not have shared my enthusiasm or thought I was straying too much off topic.
I don't know about you - but there is so much I can discuss about a celebrity or one genre of film or music without getting bored - seriously how many times can one read a discussion about some celebrity guy's ass before they run out of adjectives and start to get repetitive? Yawn!
Here comments will be welcome but I reserve the right to delete any comment I want. It's not that I advocate censorship but really, I'm not going to be someone's advertising spot and I won't put up with abuse. I'm happy to discuss, debate, defend or even change my opinion, but if you become abusive yer outta here.
I'm tired of some of the childish games people want to play when they comment. Spam will be removed. I don't give a damn about seeing some hot sexy chick on some lowlife's website. And no, I won't be looking for a date or a business opportunity.
But I will welcome comments that help move the discussion along. And if there are no comments, no problem, I'm happy to just express my thoughts and leave it at that.
So I'll start finish my first post with a question. Have you ever wondered why we are drawn to music? Not just the lyric - I realize everyone has some song that has lyrics that reminds them of something that relates to their life, but I'm talking about the actual melody, notes, tones, etc.
Whales have song, birds have song and humans have song, but we also have the ability to reach such highs and lows in vocal tones and we sit entranced, for example, when a violin hits a high note or a singer sustains a note.
I wonder why we feel music. Why it can send chills up our spines or give us a rush of sensation when we hear a note or a series of notes that move us.
If I imagined myself as if I were in outer space (gasping for air of course) or perhaps of another world visiting Earth for the first time and heard music, what would I think of this ability that humans (and other animals) have to create these sounds and tones?
And what would I think of seeing a stadium filled with people, sitting entranced listening to a singer, or a band or an orchestra?
What draws us to music? Why do we love it so?
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