 |
the Corner Forty is
the New Fifteen
The Voice
The
Truth
Poetry Wall
Visual
Artist Series
News
Read our
Blog
Advertise
Shop
Give
the Corner Forty is
the New Fifteen
News
Read our
Blog
|
December 5, 2003 I’m a little leery of shopping
malls at Christmastime. Why,
you ask? Well, it’s not because of the crowds or the never being
able to find a parking spot, or the overheated stores and
unfriendly store staff. If
you really must know why I am not a fan of the mall around the
holidays, then I guess it’s finally time I share my story with
everyone. Now, mind
you, this story is frightening and may bother some of you. That’s just a warning. My best friend Danae and I were at
the Glendale Galleria shopping for Christmas gifts.
We were 16 years old.
We were having a grand old time, walking around, saying hi
to the other mall rats, grabbing a snack, buying stupid stuff for
our siblings, etc. We
went to the “old” part of the mall and saw a crowd off in the
distance. There was a
huge Christmas tree in the middle of it all.
We looked at each other and said with a smile, “Santa!” I put my head down, clutched my
bags, and walked away. Danae
followed. And so did the mime on his unicycle.
He got ahead of me, stopped me in my tracks, smiled and
nudged me with his elbow to turn around and go back to Santa.
He made hand signals like he was taking a picture, then he
rubbed his chin like he had a beard and mocked a silent chuckle,
rubbing his belly like he was Santa. I couldn’t even look at him. His white face was hiding the true person who couldn’t even
speak – that was the gig. I
never knew I hated mimes until that very moment (if only I had
time to tell you the clown story that happened to me the next
year!). I hated the
makeup, I hated the silence. And I hated the tenacity of this particular mime.
My skin crawls just going back to this moment.
He started doing circles around me as soon as I tried to
take a step forward to walk away.
Danae was in hysterics.
And the scene was drawing a crowd. I became tense.
I was trapped. The
mime was snapping photos of me, and he was mocking Danae as she
gripped her stomach trying to control her laughter.
I was just about to begin crying when I made a run for it.
With all my strength I juked the mime on his unicycle and
got around him and made a run for the stairs.
My best friend Danae ran after us, laughing so loud it was
echoing throughout the old part of the mall.
Blurs of mall shopper’s faces went by me, mouths dropped,
looking fast at what was chasing me.
I could feel the mime behind me all the way, until I made
it to the stairs. I
knew he couldn’t get up the stairs on his unicycle.
I got to the top of the stairs to catch my breath, when lo
and behold, there was the evil mime, balancing on one wheel in
front of me, shaking his finger in shame at my escape – he had
gone up the wheelchair ramp and cut me off. At this point Danae was rolling on
the mall floor, no sound coming out, tears falling down her cheeks
with laughter. I
didn’t know what to do. This
wasn’t funny! I screamed at the psycho mime, “LEAVE ME ALONE YOU
FREAK!” I felt so
alone and so threatened that I sat down on the floor and began to
cry. Danae laughed
even harder. The mime
touched my shoulder and I hit his hand and yelled again, “TOUCH
ME AGAIN AND I’M CALLING THE COPS YOU PSYCHO!”
Danae, again, laughed even harder.
She had lost control. The mime, in his charade-like way,
put his tail between his legs and rode himself back down the
wheelchair ramp, pretending to cry.
Danae wiped the tears from her eyes, and then wiped the
tears from mine. She
picked me up, carried my bags, and led me back to the safe area of
the mall. She’d
hiccup every once in a while with a giggle, but we left in silence
back to her car. It
took all her strength, I’m sure, just to drive us home. Now, I don’t get it, folks –
why is it every time I tell this story people laugh?
Are you laughing? Can
you believe that a simple, silent mime can be the culprit of all
my nightmares? Believe
it! The moral of this story:
beware of mimes on unicycles trying to wrangle you to take
pictures with Santa. And
another thing I learned after this trip:
online shopping is the best! Losing
Thanks A friend of mine
recently said she was flying to her mother’s in Baltimore for
Thanksgiving this year. She does this every other year.
She also said how stressed out she was that her mother had
given up on cooking in the last few years, and how Thanksgiving
wouldn’t be the same this year because she was worried her
mother would ruin the meal. She
told me she’d probably end up taking over all the cooking,
hovering over her mother’s every move in the kitchen.
She figured it would be best that way anyway. That didn’t
sound like much fun to me, so I asked my girlfriend why she felt
she had to be in charge of the meal.
She told me she was looking forward to going “back
home” and experiencing her traditional Thanksgiving.
She had heard her mother was looking into new recipes,
possibly adding lemons to the stuffing, for example, so she had to
put a stop to the madness. She
was truly stressed out and starting planning the menu, and she’s
been calling her mother daily to make sure she’s got all the
fixings from the store. I
overheard her on the phone with her mom the other night:
“Are you getting stuff for green bean casserole?
No, mom! We
have to have green bean casserole!
Yes! So
don’t forget the Durkee onions.
Yes. What do
you mean we won’t be having yams, then?
Yes, mom, I’ll make sure we find room in the oven for the
yams! Mom!!!” Again, not
sounding like much fun. And my friend, as much as she said she was looking forward to
having the “traditional” meal she grew up with, was actually
dreading her trip knowing she’d be cooking the entire meal.
I immediately thought:
This is a time for Captain Let-It-Go!
That’s right, folks, it’s Captain Let-It-Go to the
rescue! As I have been saved by Captain L.I.G. many a time, I thought
it best to put out the spotlight for him to come and save my good
friend from a terrible holiday weekend. Captain
Let-It-Go showed up just after my friend hung up with her mother
– the fifth phone call in one day. With ease and grace, the Ole Cap asked my friend in simple
terms: “What would
you be more thankful for, a day off after flying across the
country for time to spend with friends and family you see once a
year, or a day of cooking and slaving in the kitchen just to taste
the flavors of food that last about 15 minutes?” My friend stood
baffled; first by the notion that Captain Let-It-Go existed, and
then by his common sense no-nonsense approach to her dilemma.
Immediately my friend threw the Tylenol she was about to
take out of the window and rejoiced!
“Captain L.I.G. is right!
Why should I care about the meal?
I should relax! I should spend time with my sister and her kids!
I should be watching football!
So what if there are lemons in the stuffing and walnuts in
the mashed potatoes! It’s
not about the meal, it’s about the time together!
Yes! YES!
I will be thankful this year for being able to spend time
with my family, not eat a meal with them!” The moral of the
story, my friends: remember
that Thanksgiving is about being THANKFUL!
Try to let go of your expectations, and make the best of
your situation. Be
thankful for what you are given on this special day.
Whether you’re alone, or with a huge family in the midst
of conflict, there will always be something you can find to be
thankful for. I
promise! You don’t
have to eat everything you’re served at the table.
And that goes for every situation! Happy Thanksgiving!
Payson Road is excited to welcome back Jodi Beuder, Editor for the Corner and the Weekly Catch. For those of you who did not see the pictures of Brody on the news page...Jodi has been on maternity leave since giving birth to her beautiful baby boy Brody. We are so happy to have her back. Welcome back Jodi! Turkey Timing Ahh, Thanksgiving dinner.
So perfectly timed, so hot and ready and beautiful on the
decadently set table. We
do it every year. Somehow
we are able to prepare a huge meal for many people, and it’s all
done at the exact time. First, we shop. We
brave the crowds and the weather and the lines and we get
everything we need in one fell swoop at the store.
We probably made our list days before, to make sure we
wouldn’t forget anything. During
the week before the last Thursday in November, we most likely
pre-made pies and side dishes.
The morning of Thanksgiving we wake up early and get
ourselves ready and hop in the kitchen to prep and stuff the bird
and get it into the oven. We
iron the linens and wash the china and set the table.
We boil potatoes, make casseroles, bake the pies, and smile
at the smells that fill our homes.
Mealtime comes, and all is ready.
The dishes are laid out steaming on the table and joy fills
the room as one more Thanksgiving dinner has successfully
continued in the tradition you and your family expect. If only my life could be
like a Thanksgiving dinner…
So planned, so well-timed…
Right now my life is more like the drive-through at
McDonald’s. Who
cares what the meal is as long as it’s quick and hot and cheap.
I just got my baby down for a nap, got the dishwasher
going, got a load of laundry in, got the dogs fed, and whew!
I’m down on the couch with my laptop, next to the baby,
writing this article. How
did life get like this? I
work full time, am a new mom, a wife, and somehow still trying to
keep my “real” career going in my free time.
Free time?! Sure,
it could happen. Since having a baby
everything has changed. Time
has escaped out the doggy door after my hungry dogs looking for
scraps to eat since I forgot to feed them on time this morning.
Somehow it all gets done, and I’m not stressed about it,
really. It’s sort
of like diving after a falling vase.
You hold your breath and sacrifice your body to make sure
it doesn’t hit the ground.
When you make the catch you breathe, stand up, and put the
vase back in its place. And
you move on. I think many of us,
mothers or not, feel like there’s never enough time.
Not enough time to do all we want, all we dream of.
We have full time jobs, families, responsibilities.
Where is the time for our hobbies, our passions, ourselves?
We even complain about it.
But when Thanksgiving comes and it’s our turn to cook,
how organized do we get? How
fantastic do our skills become to balance time to get that
wonderful meal out on the table?
We become super-people!
We become focused and handy and can balance two pies on one
arm and a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy on the other.
We can pour sparkling apple cider with one hand while
we’re passing green bean casserole with the other.
It’s all a matter of planning and skill. And we can do this with
our lives, too, I’m convinced.
Sure, maybe the water will boil over and the rolls will
burn, but there is still plenty to eat and more in the cupboard.
We could even take another trip to the store, right?
If we handled life the same way we handle such a day each
year, every year, we’d be pros, and time would be there waiting
for us! I could make lists, and I could schedule out the timing of the way my days should go. I could give that a try. Is that what most moms out there do? I’m not sure. But millions of moms with more than one child get it done. Millions of people with multiple responsibilities get it done. They do it! I know I can, too. I’ll figure it out. It’s a process, a phase, and I grow more confident each day, just like I grew more confident each time I cooked Thanksgiving dinner. And I can say with the most confidence right now, how thankful I am I’m not cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year. Obsessive,
Anyone? I
drove by my dream house last week and saw a for rent sign and it was then that
I decided I can't live another day in my current home.
Of course, it was it was a Friday after 5pm, so I had to just stew
about it all weekend. Rentals go
fast in my town, and I just didn't want to pass this up.
First thing Monday morning I called the property management company and
put my application. I will admit
it, my credit isn't great, but I have excellent renter's history and nothing
outstanding at this point--so I was very upfront with her and she said it
shouldn't be a problem. We
chatted it up a bit and seemed to hit it off, and she told me I should hear by
Thursday. That was over a week
ago and so began my slip into the obsessive hell that has been my life this
week. Now,
I am not sure if it is my credit, or just that these people move slow, but I
have gone up and down the spectrum of emotions so many times, that I am
driving myself nuts, not to mention all of my friends.
This is taking forever. And
as obsessive as I am being, I am gonna break it down for you all in a trusty
timeline(as if you really care). Friday--Saw
the house of my dreams Sat-Sun--Obsessed
about the house of my dreams. Viewed
it from all windows(and there are lots of them). Mapped out where my furniture
will go. Oh yeah, and I cleaned
out my closet and made a trip to Good Will, to make sure I have lots of room
in my new home. Monday--The
infamous application--turned it in. I
should know by Thursday at the latest, and actually she may see the owner
today, so she might know something today--so said the property manager.
Monday
afternoon--"Hi, it's Leslie, just checking in to see what he said about
the house when you saw him." "Actually,
I didn't see him today, I forgot it was a holiday. Maybe tomorrow" Tuesday--I
called her to check in, nothing yet. I
asked her if my credit was going to keep me from getting in and she said no,
it should be ok, and she has a good feeling about me.
So far, no one else has wanted to see the 2 bedroom.
Score for me! I stop by
the house and look in the windows again.
Oh yeah, and my friends are only mildly annoyed at this point. Wednesday--She
calls me to see if I want to meet her at the house tonight to walk through it.
Did I mention that I was in love with this house based on what I saw
from the windows? (yes, its that
great of a house!). But no, I
already have unbreakable plans, so it will have wait.
Meanwhile we talk again about my credit, and I am still the top
contender. She has one couple
interested, but the lady has already annoyed her, so it's not looking good for
them. Score another one for me! Thursday--We
speak again, she actually hasn't even turned in my application, she won't be
turning them in until tomorrow--WHAT? She
still needs me to turn in my check stubs.
Check! I get them to her
ASAP, and she lets me know that at this point, I am the only one who has
completed the application--HELLO? What
the hell is taking so long then? She
tells me we probably won't hear anything until Monday.
I let her know I won't bug her then, and to have a good weekend.
Friday-Sun--I
bug my friends instead! It is
amazing to me that I haven't been shot by at least one of them.
I spend the weekend stopping by the house--10 times at least--the
neighbors probably think I already moved in.
That or else I am a prowler. I
did try to take my mind off it by helping a friend move(which only made it
harder) and in the process gave away my microwave and washer and
dryer--predicated of course on my getting my dream house.
Monday--I
call her right around noon, and of course she hasn't heard anything, but if
not by 4 pm today, then for sure first thing tomorrow.
I can't take much more of this--and frankly neither can most of my
friends. One of them brings me a
newspaper and tells me to look at something else too, just in case.
"So you think I am not getting it, huh--maybe not, did I tell you
that my credit isn't great?" AGGGG!
she screams running from the room!
I do look at the paper and make a call on a 1bd condo across town.
Amazingly the owner says I can come right over and check it out.
Of course I do, and it's very cute.
Not my first choice, but definitely a high second.
I tell him I am pretty sure I want it, but can I let him know tomorrow?
He says that's great and I can have it, if I want it.
Yay! I have a backup, I
don't have to stay in my house! Woohoo!
(but I still really want my dream house, you know that right?
Yeah, so do all my friends!) Tuesday--Today
is D-Day(or T-day) and I just know she will call.
By noon I call and get this. No,
no, get ready for this---she is out sick today!!!
Is this the story of my life or what?
I swear, I am not going to need my house, I am going to need a flippin'
loony bin by the time this is done. So
that brings us up to date. I am
not sure what I am going to do about stalling my second choice, but as you can
see I have fallen far into some compulsive/obsessive behaviors very
reminiscent of my worst days before recovery.
And here's the thing, the point of all points, the reason for this
whole damn story-- Before my recovery my life looked like this everyday. Everything was very drama, and I was always going from crisis to crisis, with this frantic, "I must....whatever" attitude and it was just normal. Today is nothing compared to my old, everyday life, and I am driving myself absolutely nuts! So thank god for recovery, because even if I am still crazy, I am nowhere near my old craziness! Sarah Mason's article, If Man Had Wings was originally written, August 2000 and published in Boston Magazine but was recently updated and published on Boston.com, the Boston's Globes online magazine. Here is the updated version. If Man Had Wings
Of course we'd have to create an elaborate air traffic control system that would
require billions of dollars in spending and hours of political ass kissing,
rubbing, finagling and maneuvering. But wouldn't it be worth it?
Don't we all want to fly? Bailiff GOD Mr. Rumsfeld, can we keep to the business at hand please? RUMSFELD Some nominees for the job suggested are, Arnold Swarzenegger, Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf, Venus and/or Serena Williams, the five guys from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. If nothing else, they might be able to redecorate the sky. Oh and George Steinbrenner is very eager to go. But that's been a hot debate. We're thinking about Rush Limbaugh for a test dummy. He blows so much hot air we figured he had special connections with wind conditions. Michael Jackson begged us to let him go but we were afraid he might fly around from house to house convincing 10 year-olds he's Peter Pan. The trial period will last for an
estimated six months of earth time. At which time, you can
determine whether or not we've proven our worthiness to receive
wings. If you feel we're up to the task, the wings will be
distributed to the U.S. military, some other nation's military
personnel (tba) and by lottery to those existing humans without
wings. Some countries will be excluded--to be determined by
the U.N. as the U.S. never does anything on its own
accord. Newborns will automatically get wings, with
some exceptions (tba). The terms are negotiable, however
we would like you to consider our input on which human will
receive the trial pair of wings. Frankly Rumsfeld I think you’re
an ass. I can't believe I had anything to do with you.
One of those little mysteries of heaven I guess. This whole
argument is crass, insubordinate and stupid. Man has trouble
reaching his potential to raise a smile on his face let alone a
pair of wings. Are you kidding me? Grant man
flight??? So he can do what? Cause pain and
destruction in the skies by faster and multiple methods? No
way. My reasons for "denying" man wings have been
proven over and over again throughout man's history. And
what a pompous little twerp are you to assume the position of
presumption with me. Man's potential is not measured
by his appendage or lack of. It's measured by the purity of
his soul that has yet to be exhibited. RUMSFELD Yes God. GOD Next Case! Slams gavel on desk
August 18, 2003 (sung to the tune of Business from the Eminem Show) Intro: Looks like
Arnold’s got his own wallet Chorus
2x: So, sit in
your Hummers while we do what we do best The most
pathetic of those crimes put out for dimes we don't doubt em We get to
see the rats just being oh so pleasing, Jodi:
July 28, 2003 As the economy goes through it's inevitable stages of ups and downs, there's one industry that seems to get rich when many of us our losing our shirts--Insurance. You gotta have insurance! Health, car, life, business liability, medical malpractice, earthquake, fire, theft...it's endless. We live in a world where insurance companies control pretty much everything. They are the new mafia for the 21st century. Think about it. You can't live without them. One way or another, you need their protection to survive. They extort money from you then when you go to collect on their promises they tell you it's gonna cost more. But....if you don't pay, you'll end up with a couple a broken legs. Have you ever read the fine print on your policy? Not many people do. The insurance mob counts on it. No they bank on it. You get this enormous packet with endless leaflets and illegible scribble. Stuff you just don't have time to read. So you throw it in a drawer. Until.....someone walks into your office and buys $10,000 worth of equipment with a forged cashier's check. Yes, this happened to me recently. We were conned - but good. Everything checked out, the cashier's check, the client. There was literally nothing we could have done to protect ourselves. Luckily, we have business liability insurance. So, I pulled out our policy, written in Greek. Somewhere amidst a lot of crap that I couldn't understand, I discovered we are covered for forgery. So, I got on the phone and called our agent - this was a task in itself. We don't actually know who our agent is. Apparently we do have one. However, I've never spoken to them nor did I know they existed until I had to file a claim. The person who signed us up, so eager in the beginning, has since disappeared. The woman who is now handling our account wanted little to do with us. Here's a sample of our conversation: SARAH AGENT SARAH AGENT SARAH AGENT SARAH AGENT SARAH AGENT SARAH Okay, I KID YOU NOT. This was an actual, word for word
conversation with our insurance agent. I wish I could say
that I'm exaggerating for comedic purposes. Sadly, I'm not. That sounds like extortion to me! Actually, it sounds more like outright theft. I have dozens of other examples of double billing, overcharging. If I didn't go through all of our invoices and statements, we'd go bankrupt. Every month I have to call to have our bill adjusted. Not just with our business liability policy, our group health policy. Gotta have health insurance! We're over billed so much on that policy it's almost impossible to keep track. Doesn't it seem like you pay a ton of money every month for health insurance, but when it comes down to it, you get jack shit in return? Every time you go to the doctor, get an xray, lab work, stay at the hospital, you still get this huge bill! No one at any insurance company is capable of fully explaining the charges and reasons why something isn't covered. It often appears as if it's completely at their discretion as to whether or not they will pay for something. But they love to point out the fact that if you didn't have the insurance, it would be cost far more money. You know what I think? If we didn't have the insurance, we wouldn't have any problems. Think about it. Insurance companies are nothing but bookies. They're the middlemen. Take them out of the equation, would the cost of medical bills be as high as they are? I mean, which came first, the bill or the egg...so to speak. Perhaps I'm being too much of an anarchist. However, I truly believe that medical costs would be no where near what they are without the insurance company in the middle of it all. Car insurance - gotta have that! I just recently got in an accident. Someone hit me and ran. It's been a great couple weeks for me boy! Subsequently, I've been on the phone with my car insurance company in addition to dealing with business liability policy. The accident happened two weeks ago. I reported it immediately to the police and filed a claim. As of yet, nothing has happened with my car. No insurance agent has come or called to check it out. I haven't even been able to bring it to the body shop. It's drivable, but not incredibly safe and there's a lot of damage. When I call the insurance company questioning them about when things will start moving with this claim, they simply say, we're unable to give you a concrete answer on that. That's of course if they return my calls. Honestly, I'd prefer to pay Nicky No Nose or Vinny Boom Bats some protection money. They may up the price, but they sure would fulfill the promise. And that's the big difference between the mafia and insurance companies - integrity. No, no. It's true. The mob, at least the Italian mob, has more integrity then insurance companies. They say what they mean, and do what they say. Insurance companies make promises they never intend on keeping. They tell you so many lies to get you to sign up, then disappear. You're tossed into the harvest fields along with thousands of other humans hooked up and fed intravenously by the machines. The very same Keanu Reeves escaped from in THE MATRIX. But in our "real world" no one's coming to save us. Is there anything we can do about it? I don't know. There's got to be a rebellion. One last gasp of human spirit before we're all completely consumed by the giant corporate machine. If I were an artist, I'd draw a picture of the vision that comes to mind when I think of insurance companies - a giant, hairy, green monster with six arms and sharp fangs that drools. It's the monster of my nightmares. But this one's in my reality. Don't let insurance companies take advantage of you. Know your rights. Read the fine print. We have to be overly cautious and incredibly thorough when choosing a plan and a company. Be choosy, be demanding. It's our right. We're the customer! It's like my mother used to tell me about doctors. No matter how powerful they may appear - we pay them. We have the real power. We just need to keep reminding ourselves.
top of page Weapons of Mass
Destruction: Elderly Drivers Last week in Santa Monica, California an elderly man, drove his car through a crowded Farmer's marketplace killing 10 people and injury 50. 86 year old Russell Weller, claimed to have confused the accelerator for the break after his air bag deployed. The investigation into this horrifying incident continues. It has sparked a nationwide debate about elderly drivers and whether more frequent driving tests should be implemented for elderly drivers. Here's Jodi Beuder's commentary on the issue. DMV
Controversy I am sad because 10
people died. I am sad for their friends and families and I am sad for the
huge loss. I am sad
that these people who were affected by this accident started their
day with sunshine and innocence and ended up in tragedy. I am troubled by the
elderly man’s situation. In
my opinion, he should never have gotten behind the wheel.
Even before reports have come out about his past driving
mishaps, and before anyone said anything at all, I immediately
questioned how anyone could let this man drive alone, or at all!
I am troubled that so far this man has not been charged
with any wrongdoing. I
am troubled with current driver laws. I am horrified that this
kind of thing could ever happen, let alone that it could happen to
anyone of us at any time. Sure,
there are drunk drivers and road ragers and cell phone talkers and
so on. Being in your
car on a daily basis is one of the most dangerous things for you
to be doing. But I am
horrified that you can’t even walk on a sidewalk now without
wondering when the next person who shouldn’t be behind the wheel
accidentally steps on the gas instead of the brakes.
This horrifies me to no end. I read yesterday the
comments the man released through his pastor.
He said he feels extreme sorrow and grief for the loss.
Perhaps he is sad, that he is punishing himself enough…
Or perhaps the police should charge this man with reckless
driving, endangering the lives of hundreds of people, and even
manslaughter. I have
to wonder – what if this accident were caused by a teenage boy?
Or even a middle-aged man?
I am sure the kid or the man would be fully charged.
So why is it that the elderly man walks away with no
charges against him? I
have to believe this becomes a political and societal situation. For one, elderly people
vote. If this man gets charged because he made a mistake, other
elderly people will back him and take their votes away from the
“man” who charged him. If
the local or even state government steps in and decides to take
more driving rights away from the elderly, again, it’s highly
likely their votes will be headed towards the other “man” who
is against such decisions. No
one wants votes and support to be taken away from them, so why not
protect their voters by choosing to believe a mistake will only
happen once, and that everyone will learn from one man’s slip of
the foot? Secondly, society has
been trained to feel sorrow for the elderly.
I feel for the elderly all the time.
I care for the elderly and I used to volunteer at an adult
day care center. I
used to be a “nanny” for a 70-year-old with Alzheimer’s.
Believe me, I do have a huge heart for humanity, and I do
not discriminate against age. But while discussing this accident with different folks, I
heard the same thing: they first said they felt sorry for him!
Unfortunately, I do not think any sort of leniency should
be handed his way. He
made a huge mistake and killed 10 people and put many others in
the hospital. He was
behind the wheel of a moving weapon and he should never have been
allowed behind the wheel. Who
I do feel sorry for are the victims and their families.
Sure, this man has lived a long life.
And I don’t doubt he’s contributed to society in some
way. But the
decisions behind his actions are reprehensible and should not go
without punishment. Let’s put our focus on
who could be responsible, besides this man…
The DMV? How
about a law that says people over a certain age, regardless of
their records, have to take a driving test every year in order to
renew their licenses? How
about society? Why
don’t we raise money to purchase vans and have an elderly
shuttle that takes people to the store and the doctor and the
salon? I would much
rather take this upon myself and try to make something happen than
cross my fingers that another elderly person won’t go crashing
through a school yard or farmer’s market again. I know this is a
sensitive subject. And
I’m not trying to discriminate.
I’m trying to keep perspective on this situation.
It goes global and it hits everyone’s homes and hearts.
But something has to be done – and CAN be done – to
prevent a tragedy like this from happening again. My heart goes out to everyone involved.
top of page Abracadabra The Fourth of July is always a good holiday for me. I seem to get lucky each
year with the venue I pick. This year was no exception.
I went up north to the Santa Ynez valley about 30 miles from Santa Barbara - wine country. It's spectacular. Truly a dream place. And of course, being surrounded by vineyards, I had to do my part, tasting that is. So my husband and I my made our way through the gorgeous mountain terrain and stumbled upon a vineyard called Firestone.
My curiosity was instantly stirred do to the fact that I'm a
shameless diehard fan of the reality TV show, the Bachelor. The most recent, "bachelor" happens to be Andrew Firestone, of Firestone Vineyards.
So off to the Firestone tasting room we went! Director Paul Verhoeven couldn't have been hotter in the 90s. His credits included ROBOCOP, TOTAL RECALL and recently HOLLOW MAN. But when BASIC INSTINCT took over the box office in 1995, Verhoeven cashed in big. But what to do next? Here's where those folks in Development come in. INT. MGM/UA CONFERENCE ROOM A bunch of development execs sitting around a SHINY BLACK MARBLE CONFERENCE TABLE. Several of them check their hair in the reflection.
DEVEL EXEC The script was, and often still is, less important than the overall package. Bottom line, the studios are in the business to make money. They need the right star and the right director to secure a big enough return on their investment. Under Ovtiz Law, agents were literally in a position to blackmail studios. Say a studio wanted to greenlight a Shakespeare adaptation helmed by Kenneth Branaugh, starring himself, and (then) wife, Emma Thompson. Well that's just fine. You can do that, as long as you include Denzel Washington. No problem, we like him. And also....my boy Keanu Reeves. He wants to stretch out his Elizabethan tongue.....whoaeth. Many stars, who would never see their face on a billboard under the old studio system reaped the benefits of the agent controlled Hollywood. Reeves is a perfect example. And he has his agent, and perhaps David Geffen, to thank for it. Although the end result was often, MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, it was a cleverly crafted plot by Ovitz that controlled Hollywood for much of the late 80s and 90s. Things have changed. Today, the agent takes a backseat as a new and more powerful force evolves - the Publicist. Spearheaded by Pat Kingsley, one of the most feared players in Hollywood, the Publicist is the new King, or in this case, Queen of the Jungle. Kingsley is considered the leading lady of PR. She's earned her many nicknames, the Enforcer, the Tiger Lady. I've even heard her referred to has the Sunglassed face of the devil. The decision to merge her company, PMK with Huvane Baum Halls (another PR conglomerate) in 2001 pretty much locked up the publicists strong arm on the media and Hollywood. The new PMK boasts an overly impressive client list of A-listers including, Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks, Russell Crowe, Nicole Kidman, Gwyneth Paltrow, Liv Tyler, Jude Law, Jennifer Aniston and Demi Moore. Aniston and Moore are perfect examples of the power of the publicist. Thanks to Kingsley and her team, Jennifer Aniston became a star and Demi Moore's career was resuscitated. This past year, Jennifer Aniston was the hottest actress in town. She didn't do anything special to earn it, in my opinion. But she had the power of publicity on her side. She married Brad Pitt - instant stock boost. Her image appeared on more magazine covers in 2002-2003 than any other actress. As a result of all the publicity, a literal buzz frenzy was created around her. She won a Golden Globe, an Emmy and a SAG award for her portrayal of Rachel Green on Friends. She started landing parts in huge movies like, BRUCE ALMIGHTY with Jim Carey, and the soon to be release, CAPTURED with Ben Stiller, Hank Azaria, Alex Baldwin and Debra Messing. Why? Is she really the better Friend? I don't think so. Courtney Cox is just as good and Lisa Kudrow is far better than both of them. So why is Aniston the one in the spotlight? Two words, great publicist. Demi Moore rose to power in the 90s thanks to the agent system. But it's her clear understanding of the power shift that's enabled her to revive her ailing career. Let's face it, Demi ain't no Meryl. She may look great in a bikini but she can't act. Regardless, she found herself in some of biggest and best movies of the 90s, GHOST, which I think was her best performance, A FEW GOOD MEN, DISCLOSURE, INDECENT PROPOSAL. She was the first actress to receive a $12 million dollar paycheck. Even Woody Allen gave her a shot in, DECONSTRUCTING HARRY and someone had the brilliant idea to cast her as Hester Prynne in an adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne's classic, THE SCARLET LETTER. The film was a flop. But it didn't hurt her career. What did hurt Moore's career was getting caught in the middle as the power began to sway from agent to publicist. Before the publicist secured its place as the new power in Hollywood, there was a brief period of chaos where everyone was running, but no one had the baton. In that period, an opening emerged giving way to talent. That's when people like Cate Blanchett, Helen Hunt and Julianne Moore stepped into the limelight. Demi Moore had no where to hide when this was happening. She could no longer rely on packaged deals like GI JANE, and STRIPTEASE - both tanked at the box office and were critically panned. So, she did a very smart thing - she retreated. She took time off, spent it with her kids, nurtured her wounds from her failed marriage to Bruce Willis - another kiss of death for stars. If one star is big, two stars have10 times the illumination. Split them up, one might get lucky, the other's going to the Australian Rain Forest with Melissa Rivers. Demi Moore is no fool. She planned her retreat carefully and designed her comeback even more diligently. She picked a box office sure thing, CHARLIE'S ANGELS, a blockbuster that would achieve several purposes; a place to show off her more fabulous than ever bod, and a film that would put her in with the young generation. There was a slow an easy buzz around her pending return to Hollywood, then suddenly, a big bang. She's on the cover of several magazines this month including Vogue, she was a guest presenter at the MTV Movie Awards, she appeared at several Hollywood premieres with her boy-toy, Ashton Kutcher, That 70s Show, and Hollywood it-throb of the moment. Kutcher is 25, Moore is 40. I'll tell ya, that's genius. My only question is whether it was Kingsley's idea or hers. Who cares if the critics all but unanimously panned her comeback performance, she held her own next to Cameron Diaz in a bikini! I haven't even touched on the dynamic duo, the ultimate publicity whores - Ben and Jen. I'll safe them for another article. But I can't get either of their images out of my head do to the overwhelming amounts of publicity they've been getting lately. What bothers me is the false humility. Kingsley's been cultivating her garden for a long time. She started when PR was considered a dirty term personified by Danny Devito's performance of a sleazy publicity hound in LA CONFIDENTIAL. Kingsley stayed the course. Quietly planting her seeds, she watched as technology advanced and the media took over. Pat Kingsley's earned the title, Queen of the Jungle not only for herself, for the medium. The Publicist has the power to control everything in Hollywood today: who wins what awards, who gets what movie deals, who marries who, who's the biggest box office draw, who's on their way out, and who better pack their bags and move to Idaho. Great publicity and marketing is nothing more than a cunningly orchestrated illusion. Any great illusionist knows the key to success is to distract the audience so they don't notice what's really happening. We, the audience, have our eyes focused on the beautiful dove waving around in the magician's hand never noticing what the other hand is doing. Abracadabra, alla Kazam! In the end, it's all one big magic trick. top of page Saying Goodbye to
My Childhood Heroine Growing up, there weren't a lot of actresses that really inspired me.
My Dad took me to see a lot of old movies when I was a kid. I found myself falling for heroes and heroines of yesteryear, Ingrid Bergman, Grace Kelly, Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart, they were all great.
But even amongst the old movies stars, I didn't find an actress that I clicked with, in terms of a role model.
That is, until I saw a film called ADAM'S RIB with a fiery red head who took nobody's
crap and said it like it was - Katharine Hepburn.
June 18, 2003 Cruel Summer I’m going on vacation for ten days and we’re leaving on Friday. I can’t wait. I’m at this point in my job where all I want to do is get it over with every day. And it’s not because of what I do. Normally I really enjoy the challenges of being a marketing manager. It’s the people. I can’t believe how cold and dry people are these days. I’ve noticed that more than ever since I started my job here. Here’s an example: I’m six and a half months pregnant. It’s my first child and I couldn't be more excited. I told my workplace in late February. That means they’ve known for almost four months. How many times has my female boss asked me about my pregnancy; how I’m feeling, anything? Try once. Not that it needs to be discussed every day, but I’ve got a belly now – it’s hard to miss. She never brings it up. I don’t care what her issues might be, that's cold. People in my office go about their day without saying a word to each other. There are only six people in my office and I can go almost a whole week without speaking to one of them! No, I don’t think we need to have parties or tell each other our deepest darkest secrets. But for Pete’s sake, we spend more time at work than we do with our significant others, or our family, or our children! Can’t we be a little more decent, a little more human, a little more engaged? I mean, people barely look at each other in my office! Other examples are, the grocery store and the retail store. People are so involved in their own shopping they don’t notice the world around them. Most likely the people that work at these places are overlooked so much it begins to affect their attitude. Which contributes to the ever-diminishing level of customer service. We come in contact with so many people in a given day. But how many of those people do we actually see? I notice when I’m on a flight how robotic people are. No one listens to the flight attendants as they go through their safety routine before take off. How can we be good examples to our children if we don’t listen to other adults? Look what happens when the flight attendants take drink orders – no one makes eye contact, everyone places their orders, and when they receive their drinks, there are maybe two people out of fifteen that say thank you. These flight attendants are humans, too! They’re not vending machines! I'm not trying to complain. I’m trying to do my part, trying to figure out a solution where people can be engage each other as human beings not programmed robots. Who knows what the person at the check out stand might be going through. It could be a horrible day for them. But I'm talking about they way we interact, as people, regardless of what transpires in our own little worlds. Why not crack a smile or even a strike up a conversation? I’m so close to saying I want to give up! I want to stop asking my co-workers about their families or spouses or gardening or hobbies. Do they ask anything about me? No. But if I stop, I become one of them, and that's worse. So I’ll keep on keeping on, and hopefully my attitude will inspire at least one other person that I cross paths with to open up a little and recognize that we have something in common right away – we’re human beings! P.S.
I still can’t wait to leave for vacation, so I can be
refreshed and come back relaxed and smiling.
And maybe I’ll share my travels with my colleagues, even
if they don’t ask!
top of page
June 9, 2003 You know that cliché you hear from your parents over and over again, "when I was your age, we didn't have this, we had to walk in the snow for fifty miles" ? They complain bitterly about how each generation becomes lazier and less respectful. Well, I'm about to sound like my parents. I can not believe the behavior of some of the recent grads today. It literally blows my mind. I'm well familiar with the just-out-of-college-ego. We all experience that feeling of invincibility. We graduated college, We are geniuses! Tomorrow I will go out and direct my first feature film starring Edward Norton and JLo! The reality is a bit different. I believe it is part part of the responsibility of a university is to teach kids how to be professional in the real world - not just professional, they need to learn basic social sense. Writing a thank you letter should be a no brainer. But it's not. I've met with several recent grads in the last couple of years through my college alumni's Mentor Program. Only three people wrote me thank you notes. Six of them didn't show up for the meeting and four of the six didn't bother to call to explain what happened. We have a an
active listserve for Los Angeles alums of Boston University where
I went to college. I participate in many of the activities
including mentoring recent grads. The majority of folks on
the list are in the entertainment industry and so many recent
grads wanting to break into Hollywood write to the list and ask
for advice. Hi! My name is Joe Graduate. I'm a recent BU grad hoping to break into film and television. If anyone can give me some advice on how to do it, that'd be cool. Here's my resume. Thanks! Joe Many of them are longer, some are more elegant, few are more professional, and even less are more specific. It's generally this vague blanket statement about wanting to be in the entertainment industry and hey, will someone tell me what to do? Recently I referred a recent grad who was interested in becoming an agent to a friend of mine who works for CAA. They spoke on the phone and my friend agreed to meet the grad for lunch. He didn't show up. He called the next day to say he got lost and that "he's not good with lunch". Often, people don't even write me back. One person wrote me back to say, "who are you, and why should I care"? My sentiments exactly. I was starving for a mentor when I moved out to Los Angeles from Boston. There was no listserve at the time. I participated with some of the events. Anyone who threw me even the smallest crumb got my undivided thanks and attention. But I did not really have anyone who took me under their wing and showed me the ropes. Which is why I feel compelled to do that for others. And it's particularly frustrating to put your energy and time, which none of us have, into helping young grads only to have them ignore our efforts or respond flippantly and ungraciously. Is it the schools themselves not placing priority on teaching kids how to be professional? Or is it a bi-product of emerging technology--the internet has created a faster yet less formal means of communication. Or is it simply part of a larger problem that's spread throughout the country. I like to call it, unsocial graciousness. Pick up the phone and deal with any utilities customer service rep and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. Whatever the reason, something needs to change. College graduates can not go out into the world with such arrogance and lack of professionalism. I've had such a rash of bad experiences with recent grads lately that I decided to try to educate recent grads on the art of seeking advice from other alums. So here it is.
The Plot: Figure out what the f*ck it is for Christ Sake! We're not gonna tell you what you want to do. And nobody has time to talk about the industry in general. Pick a concentration! You can change your mind. It's a free country. You're not picking a major and even that's negotiable. Many people who recently graduate from film school know they want to be involved in making movies or television programs. But they're not sure exactly what they want to do or they're afraid to tie themselves down to a category for fear of cutting off their chances with an another opportunity. Get over it. The biggest mistake I made when I moved to LA was being vague about who I was. I'm a writer. That's who I am, that's who I was. But I was afraid I wouldn't get a job if I told people I wanted to write. But I didn't get a job anyway! And you know why? Because I was too wishy washy. Nobody wants to help someone who is unsure of themselves. No one has the time. But if you're confident and directed and have a plan, even if it's a temporary plan, someone will help you. If you want to be a television writer don't tell someone you want to be in television. Tell them you want to write for television. Not only that, pick a genre. Hi, I'm Sarah Mason and I'm pursuing a career as a television comedy writer. Again, you can always change your major! Things will evolve. I promise you that. The Pitch:
DO NOT send out an email to a list serve saying, hi, I want to be
in pictures, give me some advice. BE SPECIFIC. BE
PREPARED. Do your homework first. The internet is an
amazing tool folks, use it. Go on your alumi site's career
advisory network and start searching for specific alums to
target. And before you contact them, DO YOUR
HOMEWORK!!! If you want people to take time out of their
insane schedules to get to know who you are, you better damn well
know who they are. Once you've exhausted all your resources, go to the listserve and ask for help. But again, be specific and be humble! I can not stress enough what a HUGE difference a directed, informed, professional email makes: Hi, my name is Kelly Clarkson, I'm a 2003 Grad of BU's Communications School. I am pursuing a career as a film editor and plan on moving to Los Angeles within the next six months. I have already generated a list of alums who are editors but I've had difficulty making contact with several of them. If anyone could refer me to, XXX, and XXX, I would greatly appreciate it. I would also value feedback on my resume. If any of you have the time to take a look at it, I will email it to you. Additionally, any tips on Los Angeles living you might offer me would be much appreciated. Thank you for your time! Regards, Kelly Clarkson
Hi, my name is Evan Marriot. I'm a 2003 Grad of County College and I'm pursuing a career as a reality TV host. I plan on moving to Los Angeles within the next six months. I've searched on the County College alumni site for alums in Los Angeles who are working in reality TV but was unable to find any names. Can anyone refer an alum to me that I might call on for an informational interview? People are much more
willing to give of their time if you show that you are willing to
give of your time first - do your homework. The Meeting: BE ON TIME, no be early. Getting lost, traffic, getting out late from a previous appointment, none of these excuses hold up folks. Do whatever you gotta to do be there on time. That means, you're sitting in their office waiting area, polished, ready to go when their door swings open. Don't throw that shit out about, but what if this happens...Give yourself lots of time between appointments. If you're new in town, get a map, for LA get a Thomas Guide and map the area out before you go to the meeting. So there you are in the office - Have a plan. Have a list of questions. And again, you better know who this person is, their credits, their bio, their favorite breakfast food, their dog's name. Do your homework! Be ready to sell yourself but be humble. You are seeking their advice. They don't give a shit about your incredible 16mm short that won the grand prize at the BU Film Fest. Even if they do, you are there to learn from them. It's an artful balancing act. You need to stroke their ego and sell yourself at the same time. They need to like you but not be overwhelmed by you. Charm them! Also, don't leave any
meeting without getting at least one other referral. This is
key. The Follow Up: I can't believe I even have to tell people this, but, WRITE A THANK YOU NOTE! Yes, it can be an email but it still needs to be professional. Address them by their last name unless they specifically tell you to call them by their first. Dear Mr. Knoxville, Many thanks for taking
the time to speak with me yesterday about breaking into comedy. It
was a real pleasure to meet you and hear more about your plans for
JACKASS 2. I've already made contact with Jimmy Kimmel, thank you for the referral. We are meeting next week inside the tent where his staff is making the world's largest meatball. I'm very excited about the meeting as I'm a big fan of the meatball. Thank you again for your time and enthusiasm. I've never stuck my head in an aquarium with live fish before. It was a quite a treat, and particularly gratifying for me to learn a from the best. Best of luck with JACKASS2. I look forward to seeing more of your exceptional talents at work. Sincerely, Todd A. Moron The Green Light - Okay,
one of these people who has graciously offered their time, advice
and referrals, comes through with the goods. This could mean
many things; someone they referred you to offered you a job, they
offered you a job, they put you in touch with an amazing contact
or opportunity, etc etc etc SEND IT! Do not blow this one folks. If someone says, I will help you, give me your resume, script, reel, bio, headshots, first born - give it to them! And immediately. Do not f*ck around with this. But remember, wait for
the invitation. DO NOT give your stuff unsolicited. And last but absolutely NOT least - don't forget the person who hooked you up!!! Write them another thank you, keep in touch with them. Don't ever forget this old cliché, today's assistant is tomorrow's studio executive. Regardless of that, do the right thing. Be grateful to those who help you and good things will keep coming. So that's my half a cent advice on how to seek advice from alums. Sometimes the most simply rules apply, be professional, be respectful and believe in yourself. Good luck! Simon Says...Fame! If you were one of the 34 million people who cast a vote for Clay or Ruben to win the coveted trophy, "American Idol", then surely the above title means more to you then a child's game. I'm not sure which is more pathetic, that, or the fact that more people, 18-24, voted for Ruben than a candidate in the 2000 U.S. Presidential election. I have to admit, of the "must see" reality shows, American Idol is one that grabs my attention. I followed the process from the early audition stages - more from a point of curiosity then anything else. I had my favorites along the way. I was sad to see Josh go despite the fact that he probably lingered longer than he should have. I secretly rooted for Kimberley to kick both Clay and Ruben's butts. In the end, I ended up in that 2-3% margin that put Ruben over the top. Now that I've had a chance to sit back and soak it all in, I've been giving this whole "reality talent" some thought. As a former dancer/singer myself, I'm fascinated by the ease at which these wanabes achieve instant fame. There's not much to it really. Stand in line, sing, a few months later Clive Davis may be presenting you with a platinum record. But what happens on the next album? Will the love still be there when it's Ruben's turn on the charts and you're the has-been? Hmmmm. The problem for these young performers is that the networks and the music executives really don't care. They're not invested in their future, only their 15 minutes in the spotlight. They've already made their money back even before the single is released. Anything else is frosting. But they ain't gonna tell you that when you sign on the dotted line. Would you care? The list of reality talent shows is growing. There's several new ones coming out this summer and many more in development. The most promising looks to be Debbie Allen's new show, Fame - if for nothing else but great marketing. Now that's product branding! I remember Debbie way back when she first appeared in the film version of FAME and then the subsequent TV show. I knew several of the dancers on the show and even appeared myself in one episode. Those were very different days in the world of fame. The audition process was completely different. Today, you can leave your house in the suburbs and go stand in line to audition in a room by yourself in front of three judges. Then when you lose, return to your job, school, parents and laugh about your audition along with millions of other Americans who think you're cool just for making the show. In the old days, (my old days, the 80s), you'd already left your house in the suburbs. You left to live in a crappy apartment in the east village the size of a postage stamp that you shared with two other dancer/actors. You didn't have another life, or job, or career. You needed that job. You needed it really bad. You stood in line out of necessity. When you got up in the morning all you could think about was dancing or singing. Because if you didn't, you shouldn't be there. You wouldn't be there. Allow me to set the scene... It's an early call. You're up probably by 7am to squeeze in a class and warm up before you go to the audition. If you're not currently in a show, you most likely cocktailed the night before till 3 or 4am. You get there, it's on a side street, something like 47th and 8th Avenue. If there's no line, you walk in through a non-descript door. You feel like you've just walked through the janitorial entrance. The minute you walk in you smell it, that distinctive smell all dancers know. It's a combination of sweat, dust - kind of like the basement boiler room at your high school with a twist of burnt wood and moldy velvet. You drop off your head shot and give the manwoman in charge your vitals. You're given a number and sent off to the wings where you squeeze your way into a spot between the curtains so you can warm up. You try not to make it obvious that you're sizing up the other dancers. There are several that appear to be ex-ballet girls. They've got that, I've-got-a-body-for-ballet-but-couldn't-take-it-anymore look to them. They're always more determined then anyone else (seemingly) and they sit amongst themselves and show up everyone with their flexibility. You wave to a few "colleagues" and maybe find some friends amongst the sea of leg warmers. A short loud gay man with an outfit bordering on the ridiculous gathers everyone together. He shows you a combination as if it's something everyone has seen a million times before and knows by heart. He chews the scenery spewing out unfunny insults to those not worthy of being in his special circle. A few people laugh at his quips. You catch the end of their laugh so not to be singled out, but you are. You have 2.2 seconds to master the combination which you do from the wings if you're lucky enough to go in the second, third, fourth (and so on) group. You're up. You can't see too far back in the auditorium but you hear the murmurs of several people. Perhaps even one is standing up leaning over a dark chair whispering to shadowy figures. You don't know they exist until you hear them yell out randomly to the assistant choreographer or asst. director who in turn yells louder at you. The voices are like bull horns sounding for a variety of reasons: You smile too much or not enough, you may have eaten breakfast and according to the asst. choreographer, it's shown up on your thigh, maybe you don't have enough ballet or maybe too much, you're too tall, I mean short, I mean fat, I mean lanky. You dance well, but you're not the right type. You dance poorly but blend. Everyone, for the most part, on that stage has some talent or they wouldn't have made it through the door. So it may just come down to the fact that you rubbed someone the wrong way. Who the hell knows. But you better dance well regardless. You better sweat and pour all your passion into that moment because if it ain't there, there's no rematch. Even if it is there, there's no guaranty. There was no such term as, "it comes down to talent vs. image". Talent, that's a given. You better have talent if you show up to a Broadway audition. But that won't necessarily get you the part. The same can not be said for the folks who show up to American Idol auditions, as evident by the out take videos. There was an entire show dedicated to the worst auditions. Even those people got their 15 minutes of fame. The reality for most dancer/singer/actors in New York is, they will never get those 15 minutes. They will sweat, and work hard consistently doing what they truly love because for them there's nothing else to do. And if they're lucky they will land a part in the chorus of a Broadway show. You can't hope for much more than that as a dancer. That was then. This is what really creases me about the reality shows. There is no discipline in obtaining success. There's no craft. You can literally go from being a customer service rep to recording star in two months - with no training necessary. There's something missing in this equation. I'm not suggesting that everyone must pay their dues. I hate that expression. It infers a negative connotation. But I do believe in the value of ups and downs. Experiencing rejection only nurtures talent. If you get the gold medal before you've even learned how to play the sport, how can you continue on at the same level? Somewhere along the line you've got to go through the process of trial and error. The reality talent shows take away from this process. They take away valuable lessons that people, especially those so young, need to learn in order to truly develop their gift. The fact is, many of these folks who make it on the reality talent shows are not gifted. They just happened to be at the right place, at the right time. And if you think that being chastised by Simon is experiencing bumps, please! The people I auditioned for make Simon Cowell look like Paula Abdul. These kids have lighting, make-up, wardrobe and musical arrangements at their beckon call. We didn't have any of that. We were completely stripped down to our egos. There was no place to hide. It wasn't cute to cry. There was no audience to give us sympathy or boo at the Director. You were literally, as the song says, Out There On Your Own! Bullshit to anyone who says these kids are going through the same thing. Their families are backstage waiting for them with a hot chocolate and cookies! And hell, if they're voted off the island, they still got to be on national television and will most likely host a new reality show for Fox. These kids haven't earn their place in the sun. That's what troubles me the most. Like I said before, if you're at a Broadway audition, chances are you've already done something to earn it. Standing in line for hours waiting to sing in front of Simon is not a worthy accomplishment. We'll see what they do with this new series, Fame. I'm curious. It looks a bit more substantive. On the one hand, I'm glad that people who are talented will have an easier way through the door. You know maybe I'm jealous. If I were 20 now, I'd audition for American Idol and Fame. The fact is it's much easier today and I wish I had had some of these opportunities. But then again, I don't. I earned my medal the old fashion way and I'm proud of it. God gave me talent. Then I started dancing and singing. I worked hard, learned, struggled, failed and achieved. I've got many broken bones and multiple surgeries to show for it all and I gotta say, I wouldn't trade up. You can't build character in 15 minutes. You may win it but the minute the clock strikes 16, you're back in your pumpkin with one shoe Cinderella. And ain't no prince gonna save you. One of the things I would like to see is creative arts used to help build children's and young adults self-esteem as opposed to giving them false gratitude, bringing out their vulnerabilities and/or setting up for rejection. When I was a kid I would have killed for a program that encouraged my artistic spirit and rewarded me for anything I created just because it was my voice and I was using it to express myself. Show me that and I'll vote! Payson Road intends to show people just that. We're about to launch a series of Art Healing Workshops, enhancing a child's spirit through the art of creative expression. Stay tuned for details on the program which we hope to inaugurate during the 2003 Fall school semester. In the meantime, if you're thinking about auditioning for one of the many reality talent shows, keep it in perspective. If it's truly what makes you get out of bed in the morning, study your craft, work hard at it. Whether you achieve fame or not, you'll be performing long after Simon's 15 minutes are up. The Buck Stops,
Where? The other night I happened to catch a show on a&e, Models: The Real Skinny. Ahh, how clever of them to incorporate that into their title - as if to mock themselves, mocking themselves. One of my biggest gripes is when the media (and/or in this case the fashion industry) reports on how "the media" has done wrong, as if they are somehow no longer part of that equation. It's amazing to me. The show followed four models throughout their different paths and very different levels of success in the industry. It went "under the microscope" and examined the reality of the good, the bad and the skinny, of what is, the fashion biz. I've left ugly out of
that sentence only because it deserves it's own line.
UGLY! And I mean that in the metaphorical sense. Okay so they've thrown in a couple new story features. The most notable being an in depth, up close and personal look at the inner workings of an agency. The audience is confronted with the, so-called, reality of not only what it takes to be a model but what it takes to make a model. In addition to the obvious stress the girls go through, you hear about the pressures the agents go through and how difficult it is for them. Oh please. Here's an example; a bunch of young women sit around at a casting session for a hot new designer who's name has escaped me. The three young agent wannabe's discuss possible models for the show. Eva Herzigova is mentioned and immediately dismissed as "too old" and a bit of "a hag". Have you ever seen Eva Herzigova? She's barely 30 years old and gorgeous. She's one of the more recognizable Victoria Secret/Sports Illustrated Super Models, of yesteryear it would seem. This is who the modeling industry now considers a hag. My God! We all might as well throw ourselves in front of a New York City cab if Eva's a has-been. It was particularly jarring watching these women, who were not thin or beautiful themselves, toss out merciless insults dissecting every inch of these poor girls bodies. It's a statement on the fashion industry but more crucially, our culture. To me it was a glaring reminder of how little little self-respect women have for themselves and each other. I was watching the Bachelor:
the Women Tell All last night. I know, I know I
know. But sadly, I'm addicted. I don't know why.
For some reason the show fascinates me and I feel compelled to
watch it. My friend Kerry and I watch it on the phone
together, and then, if that's not humiliating enough, we discuss
it, at length! My intellectual downfall aside, this
episode broke my heart--not because, I didn't get a rose.
But because I felt the loss of their self-esteem. I felt a very similar feeling toward the young models. I wanted to wrap my arms around them as they walked across the room scantily dressed in front of a panel of judges slinging mud at their backs. I wanted to say, "You are so much more than this!" One of the featured
models was Sam, a 19 year old Canadian girl who had recently moved to
New York City. She was stunning. She
reported that in the last six months since signing with her agency
she'd been forced to lose 25 pounds. She was already
thin. When the agents were questioned about this,
oh-so-familiar-ritual, their response was that they didn't want to
be mean however they had a job to do. And she had a big
ass. Okay, if her ass was big, mine's the size of
Australia. Make the samples bigger! DOH! Well known designer, Tommy Hilfiger, proudly exclaimed that he is very conscious of the girls health. And that they (notice he doesn't even say, he) only uses healthy looking girls in his shows. As soon as the girls start looking too thin, they're dismissed. This is disgraceful on two levels, one, who the f*ck is he kidding? Who looks healthy? None of them look healthy! And two, it's another way to punish the girls for everything! Make these poor girls starve to near death than when it's really starting to show (as if they can differentiate), put the blame on them! I don't need to see how
skinny these girls are anymore or hear the incomprehensible ranting
of fashion designers, editors and agents. I know
it's outrageous. We all know. What I want to know is, where
does the buck stop? Who will take responsibility for the
many disgraces of the fashion industry? Who's gonna own up
and make the change? Back in the 80s when I was a teenager models were heavier - still thin but they weren't skeletal. Wearing a size 8 was not cause for shame. And hell, we bought the damn clothes then! So why do these, predominantly gay men think that in order to sell their $5000 T-shirts the model wearing them has to look like an overgrown 11 year old boy who's fasted for a month? Ahh, but there it is. Some feminists would argue that it's gay men and their desire not only punish women but make them over in the image of their ultimate fantasy - young boys. That might be stretching it a bit too far but it's not completely off the wall. It took the death of Rock
Hudson to energize people's awareness of AIDS. I truly hope
that's not what's in store for the fashion industry. Sadly,
I'm not so sure that would even make an impact. The Teflon
designer world would find away to make it stick on somebody else,
not them. It would be the girl's fault. She pushed the
limits. We warned her but she was so obsessed with being
thin! What could we do!?! What's In A
Name My name is John and there are some pretty famous people in this world with the same name. I know of a John Doe, Dear John, John Hancock, Johnny-Come-Lately, Johnny On The Spot, John Hollow-Legs, John Law, Johnny Rebel, John The Baptist and Johnny-cake. The famous John Doe is any man at all. He is the mythical average man and the lessee in a ancient trial. Mr. John Doe is willing to lend his name to whomever needs it. When a man has lost his memory and can't remember his name, he will be given the name John Doe. The name comes in quite handy for him, because he does not have to be known as Hey You. Dear John is also famous for helping out a person in need. In this case, it is a woman. During World War II, when a woman needed to tell a serviceman that she no longer loved him she would have written a Dear John letter. This practice of writing this type of letter was made into a song during the early 1950's. It goes something like this "Dear John, Oh How I Hate To Write!, Dear John, I Must Let You Know Tonight, That My Love For You Has Gone, Like The Dew Upon The Lawn, And I Am To Wed Another, Dear John ..." A Dear John may be used to tell somebody his services are no longer needed. Mr.. John Hancock was first brought into notoriety after the signing of the Declaration Of Independence. He is the man who has the largest signature at the bottom. Mr. Hancock's signature was needed to insure it's validity. When someone asks for a signature they may say please put your "John Hancock" here. Everybody knows of a person who shows up late after all the work has been done and takes the credit. When his services are no longer needed, he leaves. The name given to this person is Johnny-Come-Lately. Mr. Johnny-on-the-Spot is just the opposite of Johnny-Come-Lately. He shows up bright and early for work. He never has a cross word to say. He is always willing to help out when needed. There are other John's who are not quite as famous. Mr. John Hollow-Legs is just a hungry man. This was a name given to hobo's. Mr. John Law is a name given to any law enforcement officer during the early 1900's. Johnny-cake is a bread made with cornmeal, flour, eggs and milk. There is a John who fought in the Civil War on Confederate side. He was known as Johnny Rebel. And if we're talking about the Civil War, "When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again, hoorah, hoorah!" John the Baptist was an apostle who wrote the fourth Gospel, three Epistle and the book of Revelation. He baptized Jesus. I know my name may be common and popular throughout the United States, but it is also quite popular all over the world. In Sweden my name is Johan. In Norway my name is Jon. In Italy my name is Gian. In Hungary my name is Jansci. In France my name is Jean. And in Denmark my name is Jan. It does not matter how it is spelled, they all mean the same thing. All you Johns out there, eel good about yourselves! After all your name means God's Precious Gift and there are some famous John's out there to be proud of. When a person asks what your name is, stand up and say JOHN! And don't forget about the most famous John of all. It is the one that everybody has in his or her home or apartment. Greetings from the
Front Lines For the past month I have been embedded, living side by side with the brave men and women of the online dating wars. No flak jackets. No chemical protection suits. No heat, dust storms or inedible MREs. Oddly enough though, several Geraldo sightings. One of those, completely shaved down. War is hell. A little about myself. I am a fo… (mumble age into fist) year old single guy living somewhere in the greater LA area. I am not exactly a dating machine. In my defense, it’s hard to meet single women within my demographic who don’t own one of those tiny white dogs or are not always running off to Pilates class (the women, not the dogs; the dogs tend to let themselves go). Like everything else in life, or at least in LA, online dating is a young person’s playing field, so I entered this exercise with somewhat lowered expectations. And possibly because of those low expectations, I’ve yet to meet Ms. Special Someone. In fact I’ve yet to have a face to face meeting with anyone. Life is hard and then you die (maybe not the best headline for my profile). The way the Salon personals work; it is free to search the universe of ‘online profiles’ using various criteria (age, gender, geography). Find someone interesting and you can send them an opening message (cash is involved at this juncture). Any reply message that they or you send after that is free. My scorecard so far: 10‘Ignore this guy and he’ll probably go away’, 7 slow death by cryptic reply syndrome, 3‘is that your real voice or are you doing Gilbert Gottfried’ phone calls, and 1 ‘Did I mention I was a little bit slutty and is that a problem for you’(sadly it was) . The good news is I feel like I’ve received a fair return for my entertainment dollar. In just four weeks, through the magic of the online profile, I’ve been privy to the innermost thoughts, hopes, fears, and desires of over 300 single ladies. For me to accomplish the same thing in the real world we are talking roughly 35 years and some combination of the following: 450 wedding receptions/funerals/circumcisions, a $68,000 blended margarita bar tab, and/or (God help me) 7 Adult Ed Sushi classes. It has been an intense learning experience. Just some of the things I didn’t know:
Listen, meeting new
people should not be painless. Like everything else worth doing
right, a learning curve is involved, even in the accelerated
online world. So I stand before you bloodied yet unbowed, but I
really do need to cut this off. I’m getting Instant Messaged by
someone with the screenname ‘The Eggscrambler.’ God, I hope
it’s not Geraldo again. Tis the Season
for Birds and Bees I can’t believe how
many pregnant women I’ve seen lately! And
I’m one of them! Yep, that’s
right, I’m 5 months pregnant with my first baby.
It’s a boy and we’ve named him Brody.
My husband is beyond himself with excitement and I can’t keep myself
contained. This first pregnancy
for me is a big deal. We didn’t
think it would happen so fast. Every
little feeling I have, every emotion, every growth spurt…
It’s all such a HUGE deal, as it
should be. It’s a very strange and wonderful process.
But every other woman I see or that I know is a mother.
They’ve been through the exact same things, or better, or worse.
They have advice on what I should eat, wear, how to sleep and exercise.
Every mommy has tips. I
listen. Sometimes I listen at a
distance because there are certain experiences I want to learn for myself.
I’d love a little bit of surprise here and there.
But at the same time, I'm soaking it all up like a sponge. I want
to make sure I know as many of details as possible
so I'm somewhat prepared. It would be nice if
some daddies would give my husband some advice.
I’ve been able to adjust to this change in our lives immediately for
obvious reasons--I have a baby growing inside of me. When something
affects your physical being, it's almost an easier transition, at first at
least. Because it's immediate. You have no choice. Everything
changed the moment I found out I was pregnant
because my body was changing. My husband, on the other hand, has had a
much more difficult time knowing what to do and what to expect.
Should he adjust his lifestyle now?
Are there books he should be reading about what to expect as a new daddy?
I wish I knew. And as a
mother-to-be and a woman I don’t think I’d pick the right things to say or
give my husband the help him he needs to calm his nerves. Being pregnant has
opened my eyes to a whole new meaning of what it means to be a woman.
Immediately I have so much in common with women I don’t even know.
I have daily conversations with a lady I work with – she has two
teenage kids and loads of stories to tell.
Before I was pregnant we barely spoke.
So it’s interesting to see how people can have something to talk about
right away because of this common bond of motherhood. People are now
noticing that I’m pregnant. I’m
wearing only maternity clothes (which I absolutely love, but that’s another
article)! People at restaurants and
shops ask me when I’m due, how far along am I, what sex the baby is, etc.
I gladly capitulate because I’m so proud. Many conversations
ensue over my obvious pregnant state because so many others can relate.
And people, in general, are excited by babies. With each new day,
since becoming pregnant, I look forward to strange new experiences.
And I know that will continue until the day I die. Of course I’m scared and nervous. I pray daily for
the strength to handle it all. But
at the same time I have a new feeling of peace and calm like I’ve never felt
before. Perhaps all you mommies out
there know what I’m talking about. So
much is hard to explain. Spring has definitely sprung! Everywhere you turn there’s another mommy-to-be. Maybe she’s had one or two children already. Maybe it’s her first like me. We might live in worlds apart from each other but we’re akin no matter what. I think being pregnant will always involve a challenge of some kind. So when you see a pregnant lady and you're not sure what to do, maybe just smile. I know that would make me smile too.
Traveling in a Time
of War It was Thursday, March 20th. I was sitting in my hotel room in Tokyo getting ready for a much anticipated trip to Thailand. My eyes were glued to the television and I my heart continued to drop further into the pit of my stomach. The U.S. and the U.K. were about to wage war on Iraq. One "strategic" bomb had already been dropped on a "target of opportunity." It was just a matter of time before the troops would begin their advances into Iraq. "Oh great! I'm supposed to get on a plane today," was my first thought. My second thought was, "I am traveling with a Brit. Even better! This should make for an interesting vacation!" An interesting vacation it was. My friend Claire and I met several fascinating people, as you often do while traveling. Most every taxi driver asked us, "Where you from." (English is spoken in Thailand, but not well.) When each of us would reply, most of the drivers would get a sly grin on their face and make a comment to the tune of, "Best friends. Iraq." And that was all that needed to be said by anyone. You see, just because I am from America and Claire is from Great Britain, the Thai people thought not only were we best friends, but also that we support our respective countries in the war against Iraq. And that could not be further from the truth. Nonetheless, this is what people think. In a two and a half hour train ride from Ayutthaya to Pak Chong, Claire and I sat next to two ladies who could barely speak any English. They were friendly, though, and we struck up a conversation with them through picture drawing, large gestures, etc. - anything to get the point across. We determined each other's ages, the fact that none of us were married or had kids, our jobs, a bit about food, differences in appearance, etc. You would be amazed what topics you can cover, even though you don't speak the same language. What shocked Claire and I
is that these two women, who essentially lived in rural Thailand,
eventually drew a picture of soldiers with guns. One of the women
showed us the picture, made a gun with her fingers and a shooting
noise and said, "Iraq." Then she pointed to the two of
us and said "America, England, pa, pa, Iraq," again with
her fingers as guns. Another memorable moment was when the assistant manager of the hotel in Pak Chong, took us to the bus station for our ride back to Bangkok. He did NOT have a positive view about Americans or British. While many of his thoughts were misguided, he was convinced that we should not be traveling at all, much less together. It did not matter what we said, he neither listened nor cared. He told me that I should change my accent. I wanted to get angry with him when he said this, but I chose to remain calm. All I could find say was, "I am sorry that you feel that way. I do not." I smiled and thanked him for the ride, hoping that my upbeat attitude would be what remained with him. Because of my experiences
in Thailand, I want to travel more. I want people to understand
that just because I am an American, I do not necessarily support
everything the American government does. I believe it is important
for people of other countries to understand this. It is essential
that they meet Americans and understand that each person is an
individual. And it is my responsibility as an American that when I
do travel, I paint a positive view of our country. I should be
respectful, kind and considerate. Shanna Bright currently teaches English in Fuji City Japan. She shares her experiences of life abroad in her column, "On The Bright Side." You may contact her via e-mail at uronthebrightside@hotmail.com. index Shanna Bright is a former American Film Institute colleague and friend of mine and Jodi Beuder's. Shanna has been living abroad in Japan for the past nine months. She keeps her friends in the States up to date on her adventures through a column she sends out called, On the Bright Side. This last column really illustrates so poignantly what life in another culture is like. Particularly at this juncture in time. I thought it would make for a wonderful Corner piece. So here it is! And please read this week's Catch for a corresponding article by Shanna with links and information on Study and Work Abroad programs. On
The Bright Side It’s
been awhile, hasn’t it? As
the Japanese would say, “isashiburi, ne?”
My last letter to you was sent shortly before my winter
vacation in December. Yikes!
It’s been nearly three months!!!
Well...now you know that I did not, in fact, fall off the
face of the earth in my search for a more adventurous life.
Yet
it is truly an adventure I have found…adventure in the form of
new friendships, some great travels, the never-ending journey of
being a teacher in a foreign country, and being a foreigner…
always. My
adventures happen on a small scale, in the day-to-day events
that, for the most part, don’t seem all that significant.
These tiny incidents are what have brought me peace and
joy, and a new appreciation for life itself.
My
daily adventures are disguised in making friends with “little
people like me,” as my 6-year-old niece would say.
Just today I bumped into some kindergarten boys that I
met in my neighborhood a few weeks ago.
They are ever-so-curious about this blue-eyed foreigner.
They shot a dozen questions at me in Japanese and were so
impressed when I could answer.
This, of course, reminds me that I can barely speak
Japanese at a kindergarten level!
Their smiles and laughter warm my heart, even though they
are somewhat laughing at me.
But when I saw them again today, it made me laugh
out loud. A smile of pure joy is difficult to wipe from your face. Adventure
is hidden in the idea to host a Mexican-food party at my house.
I gaze in awe when I watch my new Japanese friends eat
guacamole, a quesedilla or fajitas for the first time.
The fruit-filled chimichangas wowed the crowd; I was even
impressed with that one. It
seems an easy thing...go to the market, buy some food and cook
up a meal; Make sure everyone has a drink and enjoy the party.
I’ve done it a bazillion times. But when you decide to
make Mexican food in a country like Japan, it involves going to
many markets, including two department stores in a city a half
hour away by train. (Department
store basements usually sell food. These two have some imported goods. Super great, but super expensive.) Couple that with having only a bike to go and do your
shopping and what would normally take you a couple hours, takes
a Sunday afternoon and two week nights to complete. I was thrown back 15 years (has it been that long?) this past weekend at Yoshiwara High School’s graduation. The ceremony was much more formal and dry than our Southern California, sunshine-filled, balloon-toting, sign-holding, bubble-blowing, beach ball-throwing, family-cheering events. The memories of signing yearbooks (remember - k.i.t. - “keep in touch?”), saying goodbye and moving on, were enough to choke me up. When two of my favorite students asked me to “please... never forget us,” that was it for me. The tears flowed. And I realized at that moment that I truly love being a teacher. Part
of this journey is the journey itself.
I could write and tell you about my recent travels to
Okinawa, Kyoto, Osaka and Sapporo.
But the things that stand out in my mind about my current
path in life, and in the things that have happened since I last
wrote, are not the places I have been or the sights I have seen.
It is not the grand-scale things that make my life more
rewarding than it has ever been.
The small, tiny, almost unnoticeable things are what
provide the most enjoyment, I think.
How
do I describe to you what it is like to try and communicate with
someone that doesn’t speak your language - and you don’t
really speak theirs? I speak slowly and gesture and draw pictures.
To take a snapshot would capture me acting like a fool -
but this is the manner in which I have to communicate sometimes! How
do I tell you how overwhelmed I am by the kindness of the people
here...how many times I have been treated to someone’s home and
hospitality...how many kind gestures have been made on my behalf.
What do I write to explain what it is like to catch
yourself “becoming Japanese?”
I catch myself pointing to myself when I am saying
something like, “I like sushi,” or “as for me.”
I bow while riding my bike to any driver who doesn’t
nearly sideswipe me when they come out of a side street. Some
Japanese words have become part of my daily vocabulary.
I catch myself thinking in Japanese.
I have grown comfortable hearing the language. It doesn’t seem so foreign anymore. How
can I have you understand what it is like to be so happy in all
your new discoveries, daily life, new experiences, yet be so far
away from home and so thoroughly miss your family and friends that
your heart aches so much sometimes? There are evenings that
I spend just looking at pictures, thinking of you, remembering
certain moments we’ve shared.
Wishing I could just pick up the phone at will to hear you
voice, your laughter. You
are always with me...always. While
it is difficult for me to accurately describe the rush of emotions
and feelings and thoughts that are constantly happening within me,
I can tell you that I have never ever been so aware of
everything in my life. When you strip away the layers of
complexity, when you simplify your life, get rid of the stress and
nonsense, you become “in tune” with yourself.
You notice everything in a different way.
So
maybe that is my life in summary at this point...small-scale
adventures and a personal journey of exploding emotions.
Hmm. I like
that description...a personal journey of exploding emotions.
Truly, that is what I feel.
Perhaps you can understand why it is a bit difficult to
capture that in a few paragraphs of a letter....and why it has
taken me over two months to write to you.
I know this letter sounds rather philosophical, but I
suppose that that is where my thoughts are at this time in my
life…lots of things to ponder. It
is sometimes hard to believe that I have lived in Japan now for 7
months. I recently renewed my contract for a second year. I imagine
that I will stay in Japan for the full three years of the JET
program. I really
like it here. You’ve
asked on occasion when I plan to come back.
Currently, I plan to visit San Diego and Los Angeles at
Christmas time this year. In the meantime, I will send out my column more often (I
promise), even if it is just to share a quick story or some photos
from a recent trip. I
have included a link to some recent photos that I thought you
would enjoy. And I hope in the next couple of weeks to finally get
the internet at home so I can create a website and can chat with
you online more often. Later
this month, I will go to Thailand for a short spring break and get
a taste of South-East Asia. When
I return, a new quarter begins at school and I get to greet the
new first year students. The international course students need to
be prepped for their trip to Australia this Summer.
I will continue to meet with my new friends on the week
nights, in language exchanges, dinners, home parties, etc.
And I hope with all my heart that the cold winter weather
makes way for a delightful Spring and superb viewing of the cherry
blossoms in a few short weeks from now.
I will be sure to keep you updated!!! It
would be great to hear from you, as I enjoy receiving your letters
and news so much. With
all my heart I miss you and hope that all is well in your life.
Sending you lots of love. Be in touch soon. Cheers, Shanna What
Is Astrology? by
Alicia Keenon When I was 21, a friend of mine had a
consultation with an astrologer. She raved about how wonderful and accurate he
was. My interest peaked, I called and made an appointment for myself. Being 21, I was in a major self-finding process.
Sometimes thought I was going to lose my marbles, so wracked was I with
confusion. Who, what, where, when, why was I? In one hour this young
astrologer synthesized my very being and dispelled huge
identity doubts I had had. I learned that I was in fact not
crazy, just eccentric. I found out that I was indeed really
artistic and musical in my own right and not just conditioned
by my artist parents. I was told that I did actually have a
difficult relationship with my mother and wasn’t just a bad
daughter. This one reading put into perspective who I was,
what my strengths and weaknesses were. Most of all, it resonated with me as true
and precise. Years of therapy could not have had such a profound effect. I was deeply inspired by the consultation and
immediately set about learning astrology myself. I learned to calculate charts
by hand, casting the charts of everyone I knew. I read, I researched, I
practiced. Eventually, astrology became second nature to me, as well as my frame
of reference for my world, my relationships, my present, past and future. Over the years I began practicing astrology
professionally and became certified in various areas. I have done a large amount
of research, study and consultations. Astrology is an accurate art and science which
is widely misunderstood. We mainly know astrology from banal daily, weekly or
monthly horoscopes in papers and magazines. Most people know their sun sign, but
not much else. Astrology has the stigma of
being mysterious, hocus-pocus, evil, dark, ambiguous. People
say, "I don’t believe in astrology", as if it were
a religion. I tell someone that I am an astrologer and they
say, "what can you tell me about myself?"... as if I
have magical insight into their psyche. Just today I told an
educated professional man that I am an astrologer and he held
out his hand, expecting me to read his palm. There are plenty
of other reactions stemming from stereotypes and lack of
information. So what is astrology? Like all soft sciences (such as psychology,
meteorology, forensics, etc., etc.) astrology relies on empiric evidence as well
as on intuition. There is no guess work, and the true art of astrology is to
precisely calculate a chart and then properly interpret and translate the
symptoms, signs, cycles and rhythms of planetary activity. The celestial body to most
frequently and directly influence us on Earth is our Moon. The
waxing and waning of the moon affects all fluids on our
planet, causing them to rise and fall, to ebb and flow.
Physicians know that surgery patients tend to bleed more
during a full moon. The police know that the crime rate rises
with the full moon which also directly affects our moods. The
famous Farmer’s Almanac uses the moon’s cycles to
recommend planting and harvesting phases. The gravitational push and pull of this fairly
small satellite is quite significant. Conversely, the other planets, asteroids,
and constellations orbiting the sun affect all living things here on Earth. When we are born and draw our first breath we
are imprinted with a matrix that mirrors our personality and the map of our
life. The exact positions of the planets and the stellar constellations create a
blueprint that will tell us everything from our psychological makeup, our
physical appearance, illnesses, weaknesses, strengths, the nature of our
parental relationships, our likes and dislikes, talents and downfalls. Every aspect that appears in
this blueprint offers a range of possible expressions - a high
side and a low side. Also, as we embark on our life’s
journey the planets and constellations continue to move and
cycle. As they do so, they form angles and aspects to our
original natal chart and showing certain events and
transformations within us. Knowing about these occurrences
goes a long way towards understanding the ups and downs that
we encounter. One problem that many people
have with astrology is that they believe that it leaves no
room for free will. The concept of planetary and stellar
cycles is merely a mirror of what is occurring on our planet.
Things do not happen to us because of planetary
events; rather, the planetary events show us what is
happening. And so planetary conditions do not give us an
excuse for how we lead our lives. "I’m weird because I’m
an Aquarius", "I have a temper because I’m an
Aries", "I forgot because Mercury is
retrograde"... none of this precludes us living our lives
to the best of our ability and with the greatest integrity. Natal Astrology at its best
will show a person’s strengths and point out how she can use
them to overcome weaknesses. It supports the unique potential
and beauty that is inherent in every individual. It offers
understanding and insight into our cycles of life and sheds
light on sudden or gradual changes that form us for the
duration of our stay here on Earth. Why
Do Women Love Valentine's Day? I asked
my husband today, “honey,” – because I always start out my
questions to him with a sweet word – I said, “honey, why do
you think women love Valentine’s Day so much?”
His response: “because
it’s the one day out of the year when women know their
significant other is going to pay attention to them.” After I
came back up from off the floor, he kept going.
My husband, Chris, continued to tell me that Valentine’s
Day is also the day to make or break relationships, that women use
this day to test their significant others.
If they don’t measure up, they can, and most likely will
be dumped. Then
Chris started telling me about how he got dumped on Valentine’s
Day. He gave a girl
name Kristie a teddy bear with a heart framed picture stuck to its
chest (which contained a picture of him), and asked her to be his
Valentine. They made
out, (hiding in bushes), until the next day when the bomb dropped.
He found out that Kristie’s friends told her not to be with him.
So, she tore the frame off the bear and threw it away. Chris
confessed that Valentine’s Day has been difficult for him ever
since that day. So he’d rather just not deal with it.
I said, how old were you?
He responded, ten. So
there I was, back on the floor again.
When I recovered, wiping the tears off my cheeks, my
husband said, what was your question? So I repeated it: “why
do you think women love Valentine’s Day so much?”
He said, “is this a trick question?
Valentine’s Day sucks.
It’s so predictable.
And anyway, wifey, you’re my Valentine everyday.”
Ohhh! I made
him leave the room at that moment, because he was getting me off
focus. He gave me the
answer he thought I wanted to hear, just as he’ll give me the
gift he thinks I’ll want. So, back to my point, which was
to discuss the importance of Valentine’s Day to women. I love
looking at hearts and having an excuse to eat luscious dark
chocolates. And this
is the one time of year I love pink and red together in the same
place (I might even wear pink and red on Friday)!
I love getting cards from my hubby with his own loving
message inside. While
I’m not a fan for pre-printed messages, as long as there’s
something extra inside besides just a signature, I know at least
some thought was put into it. Gloria
Steinem says we’re fools for loving Valentine’s Day, mainly
for the fact that our love of romance brings us back to the
archaic age of submission, back to the days of truly patriarchal
society. She claims
this cheesy romance is exactly the opposite of feminism.
"Romance itself," she writes, "serves a
larger political purpose by offering at least a temporary reward
for gender roles and threatening rebels with loneliness and
rejection." (from Steinem’s Revolution from Within,
1992) Boo! I don’t consider myself a fool. And I still believe I am a feminist. But I believe in a little romance, to bring us back to the basics of love, to the simplicity that is Valentine’s Day. When I was in third grade
I had a crush on a blonde boy named Jimmy. Valentine's Day came
around and everyone made their sacks for an art project and put
them behind their chairs, and then we all took turns handing out
our Valentine's and candy. After lunch we got to look through our
sacks and I found that I got a Valentine from everyone in class
except for Jimmy. My heart was broken and I never wanted to speak
to him again.
Six
More Weeks of Winter?!? Yesterday
was Groundhog Day. And Punxsutawney Phil, the country’s most famous groundhog,
saw his shadow. This
means there is a prediction that there will be six more weeks of
Winter. I don’t
know how to feel about this.
My instinct says I feel blue…
But the weather forecaster’s voice remains echoing inside
my head: “We
could use the rain/snow because of the drought…” To me,
February is a month kind of stuck in the middle.
In most places, it’s not still Winter but not yet Spring.
Most of us get one day off from work or school for
President’s Day, but that’s about it.
The good thing is, February’s a short month.
So we can breeze through onto March pretty quickly.
I guess I’m just feeling blah about this month ahead,
especially if, if the prediction really holds true, that we’re
facing more long cold Winter days and nights. I’m
ready for some sunshine. I’m ready for my car’s temperature gauge to stop beeping
at me in the mornings (anytime it’s below 38, my car gives me a
signal to remind me it’s fricking cold out – THANKS!).
I’m ready to take a book and lie out in the warm sun and
catch some rays. (I’m
reminded every morning as I take a shower that someone
in the room needs a tan!) Could
this be another blasé subject, another waste of time, talking
about the weather? I
don’t think so. Our
lives revolve around the weather!
(Well, at least though of us who have weather) I mean,
gosh, there’s an entire channel on cable dedicated to weather!
And all our news teams have a weather person (who is
usually quite wrong). People
talk about the weather daily – it’s the first thing we all
have in common with each other (other than being human).
It’s natural! Weather
can be exciting and it’s fun to predict what might happen.
We’re so intrigued to see the coming weather for the
week. The “Five Day
Forecast”, the air pollution index, the time of sunrise and
sunset, and last year’s temperature vs. this, or even record
breaking highs and lows! Why do
we thrive on knowing this information?
What is so important about the weather? Most of the time we
plan our lives around the weather. Do we have to leave earlier?
Do we have to wear different clothes?
Do we have to bring an umbrella, or grab our ice scraper? But six
more weeks of Winter? I was really hoping to predict a short Winter and an extended
Spring! I need some
quality time with the outdoors – we’ve been separated for some
time now. I need some
natural color in my cheeks and legs, so the blue tinted veins can
disappear! I guess
I’ll have to get creative, in the meantime:
self-tanning lotions, sitting in front of my fireplace at
home, knitting more scarves, drinking hot chocolate watching the
snow fall… Hey
wait, that still sounds like fun! I guess it’s just the February Phenomenon – I’m stuck in the middle somewhere – I am not ready to give up on Winter but I sure am ready for Spring! What Reality? This morning I heard
a news story on the radio about a young man in the military about to be shipped
off to the Middle East, who tried out for American Idol and made it to the
Hollywood cut. Somehow, the news story said, the young man was able to get a
delay on his ship date so he could finish out his chance to make it as a singer
on American Idol. The news story
continued to say that execs from Fox talked the American government into
granting this delay to the enlisted soldier-to-be. So does that mean his
career as an amateur singer is more important than his duty as an American
soldier about to face war? Wow! I’m sorry but what
has this country come to? How did a
reality television series become more important than the ever-impending war?
I’m absolutely flabbergasted! I
wish I could have been in on that phone call from the execs at Fox to the
powers-that-be to the Marine Corps. to hear Fox's reasoning. What did they
promise them live reality coverage of the take down of Hussein? I don’t know.
I’m just feeling really bitter about this story.
Do you recall the news when Elvis Presley ignored his duties as an
American rock idol to enlist in the Army? Or
what about the many Major League baseball players who abandoned their jobs as
America’s favorite pastime players so they too could join in the fight for the
war? Think of all the thousands of men and women enlisted on the Reserves, who
hold full-time jobs, who have been called to duty in the Middle East.
Do you think they were offered the chance to stay home to follow their
dreams as teachers or farmers or bank tellers or doctors, or whatever?
I doubt it. I’m absolutely for
a peaceful resolution at all costs. But
somewhere these “reality” series’, that are bombarding the airwaves have
taken over America’s sense of REALITY. I mean, these shows
are definitely entertaining. You
can’t knock that. And I have to
say I’m one of the many followers (I’m a sucker for The Bachelorette).
But there is a war that America is about to start fighting yet most
everyone I know is more interested in talking about who Joe Millionaire is going
to pick or who Trista will dump or how the next round of Survivor will fare. When is the last time you were at work at the water cooler talking about weapons of mass destruction or military tactics? I am just saying, and maybe I’m mostly talking to my skeptic self, that we need to get more involved. Tonight President Bush is delivering the State of the Union address. Now is the time when we can focus our television heads to what is our actual reality as American citizens. And we still have time to do something about our stance. So let’s try.
Action is Eloquence Let’s read that again, “Action is Eloquence". It's a quote by William Shakespeare. Who else? Who else could paint such eloquence, with the word itself. But those three little words prompt me to re-evaluate my life. Especially now, at the start of a new year. Isn't that the appropriate time for re-evaluation? So here goes....I sit at my desk at work and wonder why I don’t have my own office yet. For that matter, I wonder why I’m working in an old building – again. I dream of having a new car but blame my financial situation for why we couldn’t afford to buy me one. Even little things add up – I stare into my bathroom drawers searching for something I need and get angry that I still haven’t taken the time to get organized. Do you see a pattern here? I'm spending way too much time thinking about the things that would make a difference in my life, but I’m not doing anything about it! Somehow thinking about it has been enough for me, like someday I’ll get around to it because, perhaps, if I think about the same thing three times my fairy godmother will come down and either remind me to do it, or, better yet, will do it for me! Wrong. It’s all wrong! And William Shakespeare so easily reminded me of that today. So I’ll say it one more time, “Action is eloquence”, DAMMIT! It is the movement towards ones dreams that makes a person beautiful. Here's another quote by another man of eloquence, Thoreau, "If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams and endeavors to live the life he imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." I love that quote. It's so inspirational. For it is that advancement, or action we take every day toward our dreams that keeps us healthy and sane. Even one small footstep in the direction of our dreams fills us with an immeasurable sense of pride and fulfillment. Last night I wrote three pages in my novel (which I’ve been working on for 7 years now). I thought about writing for three days but blew it off to do something REALLY important like take care of my guests, sleep or watch TV. But last night, I thought about it! And when I finally sat down and got those three pages cranked out I knew I had accomplished something. Now I was three pages closer to finishing! Hello? Simple! Sadly, though, it’s not that simple for me, most of the time. I think we all suffer from that - the getting started bug. But once you get over that hump, magic happens. I’m taking action today. I’m
writing this down because my thoughts, which sometimes lead me to into terrible
patterns, also help me to understand my patterns. Now I can do something
about those patterns. I can take action. So many people have said it over and over....and over (and that says a lot right there)…
But William Shakespeare said it best, "Action is Eloquence"
Back to
Home
| About Us |
Charitable
Gifts | Membership
|
