Bill Sweeney 1961 - 2012

This is my family (my mother must have been taking the picture) circa 1972, having cheese fondu after skiing.  


I'm in the orange, and my brother Bill is in the striped pajamas.  He died on Wednesday.

******

Two weeks ago today, on June 8, my brother Bill and I were downtown in Spokane.  We’d just run an errand and both felt hungry for lunch.  He was feeling weak, and I said I’d grab something quick for us to eat.  He could wait for me in the car.

I noticed a Pita Hut across the street.  Inside, I found that the line was long.  I phoned Bill and asked what he wanted, reading a list of menu items.  “Well, the chicken souvlaki, of course.”  he replied.  We both laughed simultaneously at the memory.

You see, in the summer of 1981 Bill and I spent about three and a half months travelling around Europe backpacking.  We ended up in Greece, where we spent nearly a month on the island Santorini, almost totally broke.  We found a family that would house us for a week if we helped them with their grape harvest.  We worked picking grapes and we even helped them stomp on the grapes – barefoot – on top of a big ancient-seeming pit, with long intertwined twigs underneath us (somehow) and the grape juice flowed into a big vat below.  One night, one of the patriarchs of this family, who had only one arm,  deftly made us scrambled eggs with feta cheese for dinner.   Then he poured ouzo from a big white jug.  Bill was smiling from ear to ear.  We were really far from home. 

Back in Athens for a few days, we decided to take a bus to London that cost $50 a person.  The bus would take over 32 hours of driving.  It was also so packed, there were so many people crowding to get on, some people made bargains with others to stand in the aisle and trade places with a seated person now and again.  

As we were waiting in line for the bus, I looked in my backpack and saw a wrapped food item.  It was some chicken souvlaki I’d bought on the street the day before, or maybe it was even two days before.  I was going to toss it out, but Bill said, “Hey, I’ll eat it.” (Yes, at age 20 & 21 we were both idiots.)

We got on the bus, and began the journey.  First Bill broke out into a sweat.  Then his head started to sway.  Then he leapt up and weaved and bumped his way down the aisle, making it to the one toilet in the back just in time.  He felt sick and extremely queazy for the rest of the trip. 

Of course, I gave Bill my seat and I stood in the aisle.  It was very hot, and with no air-conditioning, inside the bus it was hotter.  A handsome guy was in the seat next to Bill, a guy who eventually insisted that I sit for part of the ride.  It was a very long travel to London, seemingly interminable.  Bill recovered and then flew home to Spokane, our long summer as brother and sister in Europe over.  I stayed in London a few more days with the guy on the bus.

But that’s another story.

Now that Bill is dead, (from excessive alcohol and drugs) I’m flooded with memories of his better times.  Bill at his best.  Many of my happiest memories growing up were with Bill.  When we were young, we skied together almost every weekend in winter – him pushing me to take harder and harder runs.  When we were adults, we went to Aspen together and he forced me down a black diamond run, far above my ability.  I cursed him all the way down, side stepping with my skis for much of the way.  But when he suggested we try it again, I did, and then it all became much less daunting. 

I think of Bill with his six-pack abs, which were sadly eroded from drinking actual six-packs.  But I don’t want to remember that.  I’m remembering him lean and taught as can be, throwing himself onto his bike.  His great long muscular legs, his unique hunch over the handle bars, his smile of enticement, “Come on, Jewels.  Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”  God, his under-bite – those teeth, gleaming.   His ability to persevere physically seemed supernatural.


He rode his bike from Spokane to Seattle several times. He hiked through the Olympic Rainforest.  

I woke up last night remembering Bill waking me up, - so many times - in the wee hours of the morning, having already made a couple of sandwiches and a thermos of hot chocolate and coaxing me out of bed so we could get to the mountain and ski, or go on a hike as early as possible. Or get on a bike.  Bill liked to stay active. He loved the early morning.  He liked to be outside before anyone else.

Sadly, Bill’s downhill run – the one his life was on – didn’t go as well as the ones we conquered on the slopes.  He was really already an alcoholic at age 20.  In his early thirties, he was lifted out of his chaotic vodka-fueled stupor by an amazing woman, Sandy, who he made his wife. 

He had about five good years, and fathered two amazing children, Nick and Katie.  When the kids were young, he began to drink even more heavily than he had before.  He became angry and cold.  Sandy turned him out, and we all knew she was doing the exact right thing.  Bill couldn’t save himself, and if you threw him a life raft, he’d pull you down with him.

Sandy heroically saved a world of hurt from her children, who Bill was not able to emotionally damage as much as if he’d been there.  They’ve grown up into resilient, thriving young adults. 

Like most addicts, Bill felt deeply.  He numbed himself, yes.  But he also imprisoned himself in his emotions, never fully able to get beyond the sting and the heartache.  He couldn't get to a perspective that was measured or thought through.  He never fully moved past Michael’s death – our other brother who died at age 33 – and I could see that the alcohol and other drugs both delivered him from, and kept him inside a nightmare of constant emotional pain.  


He caused an enormous amount of turmoil and sadness for our family.  For his own children, too.


On the other hand he had a deep caring and joyfullness about him that drew people in.  He was eager and interested.  

Weirdly, one of Bill’s best times was when he was in jail.  He was imprisoned several times for driving while drunk.  Fortunately he never hurt anyone, he was just pulled over by the police for swerving all over the road.  After three times, they sentenced him to nearly a year.  

However, in jail, Bill thrived.  He was put in the kitchen and cooked.  Bill needed supervision and regimentation.  I had some of the best conversations with Bill from prison.  While a big part of Bill’s personality was a deep defiance of authority, it seemed like in the prison system – when it was clear there was no way out – he let his resistance relax, he followed the rules, he helped his fellow prisoners.  He was lucid and articulate, and he read constantly: Richard Dawkins, David Quammen, I think Quammen was his favorite. The last book we discussed was one I sent him, “The Great Hunger” by Cecil Woodham-Smith, a book about the Irish famine, actually a book I haven’t yet read.  

In April I was in Spokane and Bill was in the hospital.  He had acquired MRSA, a staph infection that's resistant to most antibiotics.  He had hepatitis C, late stage kidney disease, and cirrhosis.  He’d also broken his wrist (which he did several times over) from falling.  He was lying in a hospital bed, really out of it, only a few teeth, emaciated, orange from the cirrhosis – even his eyes – his stomach enlarged, and strapped down to a hospital bed.  Dying of alcoholism is a grizzly way to go.  He looked at me and said, “Hey Jewels, let’s go on a hike while you’re here.”  I held his gaze.  I blinked away the tears. “Sure,” I replied. 

So unaware, so childlike, so wanting to just be outside.  That was Bill.  I never thought he’d leave the hospital, but he did.  My mother was at the end of her rope.  Bill was out for 12 days before he went back in.  Mulan and I took him back into the hospital for the last time.  


Now, when I think of him in the emergency room, cordoned off with partially pulled beige curtains for a little privacy, the flickering image I have of of Bill -  sliding off his pants and shirt to get into the gown, I think about how that was the last time.  His last time to pull off his pants.  When I think of him sliding himself onto the hospital bed, I think about how that was his last time to slide himself onto a bed.  He had an impish way about him, light on his feet, youthful even.  When he got on the bed, Mulan and I were standing right there.  He looked at up at me, his eyebrows raised, “Well?” he said with a half-shrug. Then he smiled at me with his lips closed.  

He died ten days later.  He was 51 years old.  

Yesterday I was able to say “My brother died yesterday.”  But now time is going to pull me away from him, each day will be a day with our hands farther apart.

I don’t blame Bill.  He couldn’t conquer this demon.  Who knows what kind of fate was written for him in his genes and in his experiences?   Frankly I don’t think he had a choice.  I don’t know why some people are able to change their destructive behaviors and why some people aren’t.  And I don’t think anyone does.  I think we are played rather than players, and Bill played his part as well as anyone who had to play a part as painful and as difficult as his.

He’s going to be buried in the same plot with my brother Mike at Holy Cross Cemetery in Spokane.  When my mother told me that was how it was going to go, I was surprised.  I hadn’t thought of that. 

But of course, Mike and Bill, together in the ground.

In closing, I'll post this pic of Bill holding Mulan sideways at the Spokane airport, some years ago.  Mulan looks about five.  

Here's another one with Mu.

The Vatican has had it with the nuns.  You know those sisters, so radical.  They've been spending their time working on behalf of the poor and fighting economic injustice!  An outrage.  Well, now they've been reprimanded.  They were told they've not been sufficiently outspoken against contraception, abortion and gay marriage.

Just when the Catholic Bishops and the Vatican seem like they've done themselves in, they do something even worse than I would've imagined.

They seem to think now is a good idea to come down on the nuns, just when the cases against the priests about sex abuse is ramping up again, and there are more and more outrageous examples of the higher ups covering up, not reporting the abuse to the proper authorities, and generally behaving heinously.  This is the time they've chosen to go after the nuns.

And...  Oh yeah.  Plus the contraception matter!  They're refusing to comply with the health care mandate that requires employers to provide contraception coverage to their employees.  They're saying it's a "religious freedom."  Yes, freedom.  They want the freedom to force their dogma on people who don't want it.

Do they ever wonder why their married, child-bearing-age employees don't have a baby every single year?

I mean, it's actually kind of funny.  It's like a guy who tripped, and then fell on his leg and broke it off, and while in pain and trying to recover, decides to distract people from watching him, so arranges for an anvil to drop on his head.  The Catholic Church as... Bugs Bunny!

Personally, I think they've made a serious miscalculation.

My friends Annie Laurie and Dan at the Freedom From Religion Foundation asked me to do a little ad for them about the contraceptive coverage issue, and I did it on Monday.  When it's put together I'll post it here on my blog.

But enough about that for now.  I'm just about to take off on a two week trip - a week in Spokane, and then a week in Los Angeles, so this is gonna be short....

Let's get onto books and movies for the month of May 2012

I read three books last month.

1.) The Swerve: How The World Became Modern, written by Stephen Goldblatt
2.) State of Wonder, written by Ann Patchett
3.) In The Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror, and an American Family in Hitler's Berlin, written by Erik Larson

I loved all three, especially Swerve, which made me want to write a monologue based on the book so I could perform it.  It's all about a poem by Lucretius, who was a follower of Epicurus, and how a medieval antique book hunter came upon it in an out-of-the-way monastery in the 1400s and basically saved it for all humanity.  It really underscores the haphazardness of what was saved and what was not, at the same time that it shows us how much art and wisdom there was and how important it is for us now to hear the voices of the ancients who, while they did not have our scientific information, had great insights into the true nature of life and how it could best be lived.

Bottom line seems to be: let go of superstition...

State of Wonder was a wonder, and I even got to go to a lecture by Ann PAtchett, put on by my local library.  She was articulate, funny, smart, and her talk gave me even more insight into her novel, which manages to be pulpy and high literature all at the same time.

In the Garden was good too - god, I love Erik Larson.  And the story took me to the heart of things when Hitler was just gathering the forces that would come to full frightening fruition in his dictatorship.

Here are the movies I watched last month:

1.) Tiny Furniture, 2010, directed by Lena Dunham
2.) In the Land of Blood and Honey, 2011, directed by Angelina Jolie
3.) Love Letters, 1945, directed by William Dieterie
4.) Kind Hearts & Coronets, 1949, directed by Robert Hamer
5.) Humpday, 2009, directed by Lynn Shelton
6.) The Wizard of Oz, 1939, directed by Victor Fleming
7.) My Effortless Brilliance, 2008, directed by Lynn Shelton
8.) Portrait of Jennie, 1948, directed by William Dieterie
9.) Come and Get It, 1936, directed by Howard Hawks and William Wyler
10.) Ministry of Fear, 1944, directed by Fritz Lang
11.) Lake Tahoe, 2008, directed by Fernando Eimbcke

Wow.  A pretty good month for movies.

Most memorable prize goes to "Come and Get It."  I'd seen it in college, but it was just as good if not better than I remember it.  "Tiny Furniture" caused me to have a more complicated relationship with Lena Dunham's show "Girls" on HBO.  I didn't like it as much and it was weird, like "Tiny Furniture" let me see how the sausage is probably made on "Girls."  Which made me not like "Girls" as much.  I have very mixed feelings about it all. I mostly love the show.  But I kinda wished I hadn't seen "Tiny Furniture."  Odd. I'm still not sure why I feel this way.

Mulan watched "The Wizard of Oz" with me on Mother's Day.  We had a really fun afternoon watching it.

Angelina Jolie's movie also stayed with me a long time - it's grim, very very grim.  She's ambitious as a director and I appreciate that.  The actors are very good.

Oh Lord, I've got to go.  A cab is coming in an hour and I have to pack.  Well, I suppose the summer has really really started now.  Until next month...

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Out of a month of deeply memorable literary and cinematic experiences, two stand out.

(I include TV shows in my cinematic experiences...)

One is that, after thirty years, I reread "Lucky Jim," by Kingsley Amis.  I was predisposed to think I'd overrated it.  (My father's favorite book - read it a long time ago when I was still in the thrall of his opinions about everything)  But I was surprised to find that it was, in fact, even more of a masterpiece than I'd originally thought.  I guess I'm now old enough to really appreciate it even more deeply.  I had to put the book down several times because I was laughing so hard.  (This has only happened to me - well, to this extent - while reading "Catch 22" and "A Confederacy of Dunces.")

But I did another thing.  Another thing that kicked the whole experience up a notch.  I downloaded the audio version of the book from from Audible - read by Paul Shelley - a wonderful English actor.  I read the book while I listened.  I can read much faster than the narrator can narrate.  And while it was excrutiating at first, when I gave in to it - I was forced to slow down, way down - and savour each page - each word.  Because of the excellence of Paul Shelley, many conversations in the book jumped into life in a different way than if I were conjuring it in my own head.  I got much more nuance.  For example, there are several different accents by characters from around the British Isles.  One major character is Scottish.  Jim Dixon, the main character, sometimes slips into a northern English accent - sometimes manipulatively, sometimes accidentally.  I understood this - experienced it, is a better phrase, much more deeply than if I'd just been reading it.

I have to admit that the whole endeavor was one of the most satisfying experiences with a book, ever.

Great experience #2.  I began reading Muriel Sparks' "The Girls of Slender Means" about fifty pages ahead of watching all three episodes (so far) of "Girls" on HBO. I'd heard about "Girls" of course.  I wondered about it.  I figured I probably wouldn't like it.  From what I'd seen about it - looking sideways out of my eyes - grazing across pages of various publications and online, I just thought, "Eh."  Another HBO show about four young women in NYC.  I couldn't be - frankly - less interested.

In the meantime, after I was all up in arms over how little time I have left to live to read everything I wish to read (see last month's blog entry) I had looked over 1000 novels everyone must read: the definitive list | Books | guardian.co.uk.  And I was particularly picking my way through the comedy novels.  I was astonished how few I'd read - about fifteen to twenty out of 150.  My mother-in-law, Norma, was visiting - and she was surprised I hadn't read any Muriel Sparks - being a Catholic and all.  (Culturally! Culturally!)

In any case, I got "The Girls of Slender Means."  I'd just finished "According to Queeney" by Beryl Bainbridge - and while I thought it was mildly funny, it was not even close to the level of writing and humor of "Lucky Jim."  I wondered, "Who is the female Kinglsey Amis?"

After only ten pages of "The Girls of Slender Means" I felt I'd found a new best friend.  Muriel Sparks! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?   I was so giddy reading this novel that I had to just put it down from time to time just to compose myself.

Then, yesterday, I coincidentally dug into "Girls" on HBO.

I think it's one of the best things I've seen on HBO.

I'm completely hooked.

I can't believe Lena Dunham exists.  I love her, and I love the show.  I love every scene.  I love the characters.  It's so uncomfortable and it makes me uneasy.  Which is GREAT.  It breaks taboos, but is realistic - I believe every character completely.  It strikes me as honest and refreshing and accurate.  From my experience, this is very true and real. And painful, so painful.  And funny, so funny.

To be reading "The Girls" and watching "Girls" at the same time - how serendipitous!  It's so perfect!  These stories do not change.  Women do not change from generation to generation.  And yet, both of them feel very fresh and as if working in untrodden territory, while simultaneously dealing with perennial issues.

Wow, I feel so deeply lucky this month.  I feel I practically stumbled upon gems which became much more magnificent, even magical, with a little adjacent other-art.

That's not very articulate - but you get what I mean.

So, the books I read last month are:

1.) Hedy's Folly, The Life and Breakthrough Inventions of Hedy Lamar, the Most Beautiful Woman In The World.  Written by Richard Rhodes
2.) The Joy of Less, a Miminalist Living Guide.  Written by Francine Jay
3.) Unstuff Your Life: Kick the Clutter Habit.  Written by Andrew J. Mellon
4.) Lucky Jim. Written by Kinglsey Amis
5.) According to Queeney.  Written by Beryl Bainbridge
6.) The Girls of Slender Means. Written by Muriel Sparks

Notes on the above...

"Hedy's Folly" was a nice read.   It's actually about Hedy and her scientific collaborator, composer George Antheil.  It should've had a title that included both of them.  The book alternates chapters - in the beginning - about Hedy's and George's early life, and since I didn't know the book was about both of them, it was severely confusing.  But still - very interesting.

I didn't read every word of "The Joy of Less" or "Unstuff Your Life."  But I'm trying to reduce the amount of stuff I have, and these books were inspiring. I also got "Unstuff Your Life" on audio book and listened to it while I walked the dog.  They both have a lot of good ideas. If I had to recommend one over the other, I think it would be Francine Jay's book - "The Joy of Less," but only by a smidge.  And try to get the books at your library so you don't have the book added to your stuff.  (I actually bought the "Joy of Less", "Unstuff" came from the library...)  Today I'm thinking about one idea that seems useful, which is: have a uniform. What's your basic uniform for clothes?  That eliminated a lot fo extra clothes for me.  And of course, former Catholic Girl that I am, I love a uniform.

I'm currently about half way through "The Girls of Slender Means."  I guess I'll try to get to her other, more well known books soon, like "The Prime of Miss Jean Brody."  Wow - there are few things in life sweeter than finding a new author you love.

Now - on to movies...

Movies watched in April 2012:

1.) Holy Matrimony, 1943, directed by John M. Stahl
2.) Mysteries of Lisbon, 2010, directed by Raoul Ruiz
3.) The Smiling Lieutenant, 1931, directed by Ernst Lubitsch
4.) This Gun for Hire, 1942, directed by Frank Tuttle  watched it twice
5.) Children of Heaven, 1997, directed by Majid Majidi
6.) Chimpanzee, 2012, directed by Alastair Fothergill & Mark Linfield
7.) Head On, 2004, directed by Fatih Akin
8.) The Ghost Goes West, 1935, directed by Rene Clair
9.) The Reckless Moment, 1949, directed by Max Ophuls
10.) The Exile, 1947, directed by Max Ophuls
11.) Dance With a Stranger, 1985, directed by Mike Newell
12.) Barcelona, 1994, directed by Whit Stillman
13.) The Hard Way, 1943, directed by Vincent Sherman
14.) Jesus Christ Superstar, 1973, directed by Norman Jewison
15.) The Spy in Black, 1939, directed by Michael Powell

So many great movies. I can't comment on all of them, I'd be writing for days.  The Mysteries of Lisbon is a 5 1/2 hour extravaganza from Portugal.  It's as if Gabriel Garcia Marquez made love to Barry Lyndon and they had a child - this film would be it.  Very soap opera-y, very grand, very historical-period-piece-y.  I watched about an hour a day for a week in the early afternoon, after I'd finished my work.  It was like reading War and Peace - long and languid and funny and weird.

I wanted to rewrite Holy Matrimony and The Hard Way immediately for today's audiences.  Both were a surprise.

We went to the movie theater to see Chimpanzee at the first possible showing.  I really enjoyed it, in spite of it's bad reviews.  Yes, Tim Allen's narration is a bit ridiculous, and the music is TERRIBLE.  But maybe more people will see it with those elements. I  dunno - for me, it didn't get in the way and I loved it.  Anyone who thinks we, as a species, are any different than chimps, is crazy.  Yes, we can talk, and yes we can share knowledge and cooperate on grander scales, but basically, we are chimps.  Plus, what is cuter than a baby chimp?  Nothing.

This Gun for Hire was a great film noir, had to watch it twice.  Veronica Lake and Alan Ladd, they were so good!  The Reckless Moment was fantastic.  Joan Bennett and James Mason, god what a great team.  The Exile was funny, and a surprise.  It stars Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. - who also wrote it.  It's about the English king, Charles the 2nd, in exile in Holland, falling in love with a farm girl.  The film slowly drew me in.  I watched it with my mother-in-law, Norma.  Part of the plot involves the Roundheads - a English political group that was opposed to the monarchy - they were very religious and wanted to push for many more conservative restrictions.  Norma said, "The Roundheads... You know, the Rick Santorum supporters - that's our Roundheads."  And that's so true.  So many movements and issues do not change, just the people promoting them.

Head On was really good too - I loved Fatih Akin's The Edge of Heaven, so I wanted to see his earlier work.  There are similar themes, including women who cut their hair and big dramatic moments.  And people murdering each other and then changing quite a bit while in jail.  The film made me want to go back to Istanbul.

Dance with a Stranger - Oh! I can't believe I hadn't seen this film.  Miranda Richardson is luminous, and the story - of a creepy love triangle - is seriously depressing and sad.  And it's true too. Richardson plays the character of the last women executed by hanging in England - Ruth Ellis.  Gorgeous movie.

Jesus Christ Superstar: Mulan and I watched it. I thought maybe it was a good way for her to learn about Jesus.  HA.  She was so bewildered.  I realized that since she hasn't been inculcated with religious behaviors, everything just seems weird to her.  Things I would have never had the naive open-mindedness to even ask.  For example, at one point she asked me,  "Why do those sick people want to touch Jesus?"  I said, "Because they think he's magic and can heal them."  Mulan said, "Why would anyone think that?"  Me: "Because they didn't have very much scientific information."  Mulan: "That's crazy."  Then I had to stop the film and tell her that lots of people in the world still believe things like that.

Later she asked, "Why are all those women putting oil on Jesus' head, and sort of leaning on him like that?"  I said, "Well, one - Mary Magdalene, is like Jesus' girlfriend.  The other women - well, when you're a cult leader, or actually this can be true of any very high status man - women fawn all over you."  "Creepy." Mulan said.  Then she fell asleep and I didn't wake her up.

 Frankly the movie, while interesting - and with good music - and - yes, with some creative visual ideas (although oddly awkwardly realized, I felt)  - was, to me,  surprisingly boring.  I could hardly wait until it was over.  I hadn't seen it since I was 13 or so, and figured it would be a fun ride down memory lane.  Also, Jesus - Ted Neeley - is so hilariously blond.  Jesus' followers are all black, white or Asian.  The Jewish Pharisees are all middle eastern, well Jewish looking.  And then, the Romans, (played by Barry Dennen and Josh Mostel) are literallly mincing - really offensively so - exaggeratedly homosexual.

When I saw Jesus Christ Superstar when I was a kid - I thought it was so modern and open-minded.  That part of watching it was funny, how NOT modern and open-minded it actually is.

All right - I've blathered on long enough.  

A panda ponders.

This photo taken by Michael on Thursday, March 29, 2012.  We were at the National Zoo in Washington D.C.

Is this panda thinking, "I only have 5.4 tons of bamboo left to eat in my lifetime."?

Because that is what I've been thinking about lately.   So little time, so much bamboo to eat, and yet it doesn't feel like it's enough bamboo.  Or something like that more analogous to my own personal bamboo-like necessities.

I've run this metaphor into the ground.

Last week was Mulan's Spring break at school.  We (Michael, Mulan and I) went to D.C.  The weather was sublime, the cherry blossoms were blossoming, and I could happily live there.  We spent a day at Gettysburg too.  It was excruciating, because Gettysburg really needs two days - at least.  We spent a long time in the museum.  Then, we only began the driving tour, did about 1.5 hours of it.  I  guess I imagined Gettysburg as a small area, but it's very large, so many things went on, so many different factions of troops. I thought of Gettysburg as more of a meadow.  Anyway, I have to go back.  We listened to a CD of civil war songs while we drove around.  I didn't realize how many of them were re-worded Irish songs.  I loved them all.

We went to the Capitol Building, and took the tour in the new underground Welcome Center.  We spent a very short amount of time at the Library of Congress.  We went to the National Portrait Gallery, to the Postal Museum (very informative!) and to Textile Museum (Mulan insisted - she's very interested in looms.)  We hung out outside the Supreme Court while the health care law was being challenged.  There were many more supporters of the Affordable Health Care Act than detractors, but the media honed in on the crazy tea partiers (they were dressed up, and more interesting to look at.)

We went to the Jefferson Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial at night - all lit up, full of people (but not too many) and it was very romantic.  We spent time at the National Cathedral.  We took pictures of the Washington monument shining at night.  We didn't have time to do soooo much.  PAINFUL!  No Newseum, No Ford's Theater, No Corcoran Museum, and on and on.

Let's change the subject, shall we?  (btw, my spell check on blogger isn't working, so please excuse any misspellings in advance...)

I read one book this month.

1.) Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides.  I fell into this book like it was an ocean and I floated along on the waves until it was over.  A complete delight.  Eugenides writes in a very particular detached and yet intimate style. 

I read two books on my new Kindle, while on my road trip.  One book I'd read before, but I wanted to read it again.  The other was one of my self-help impulse purchases.

1.) Bossypants, by Tina Fey.  Fantastic, hilarious, smart, funny.  Again.  

2.) 18 Minutes: Find Your Focus, Master Distraction, and Get The Right Things Done written by Peter Bregman.  I found this to be a very useful book.  Bregman is a blogger for the Harvard Business Review and he has hundreds of thousands of followers.    Peter Bregman — Organization Change, Leadership, Communication and Productivity  One of his basic premises is that you can't get everything you want to do done and most books on this topic are about organizing yourself so you can be more efficient and do more.  But he suggests, (and this is definitely what I've come to as well) that you should acutally do less.  Much of the book is about explaining how little time you actually have, and how unpleasant working hard and really efficiently is, in day-to-day practice.  It's not particularly enjoyable.

He says we should only have three to five areas of focus, and really three is better than five.  My three: 1.) mother and house manager and wife and friend (to a very few people.)  2.) writer of books and screenplays 3.) exercise enthusiast.  That's it.  Everything else should fit into 5% of my effort.

Yes, I lumped a lot of things together.  But I realized that, for example, performing is not on my list.  I'm less interested in that right now.  It's not on my list.  Gardening, not on my list.  (My husband has sadly come to realize that I want to enjoy the garden, not work in it.)  Volunteering, not on my list. (I know, not nice.) Socializing in a general way with larger groups of people, not on my list.  Big craft projects, not on my list.  Unless I do that with Mulan and then it's back on the list because if falls under mothering. I put watching movies and reading under the heading of writing.  This might mean that I spend a lot of rather passive time doing things - watching, reading - and then excuses it by putting these... efforts (?) under the heading of "writing." But I feel that input is justified and necessary.

But the point is, "18 Minutes" got me off and running on a deeply existential theme - I really can't do everything I want to, and I just have to accept it, because railing against it is time and energy consuming and doesn't change anything.

For example: books.

On average I read between 500 and 1000 pages of something a month.  But sometimes it's much less.  250 pages of something.  Also, I'm not including my magazine reading, which I really, really enjoy. (For example, I cannot wait to sit down tonight with my new issue of Skeptic Magazine, the cover of which promises to be about Scientology.)  But if I say I read two books a month, on average, and I live to be 90 years old, (I know this is optimistic, but let's just say...) this means I can read about another 1000 books in my lifetime.

This startling realization rocked my world.

I want to read so many more books than that.

To take another example, on average I watch about 15 movies a month.  180 a year.   This means I will be able to watch about 7000 movies.  Okay - I'm fine with that.  7000 seems like so many, it's too many for me to imagine.  My mind registers this number as: a lot. 

But only 1000 books. This is a tragedy.  I can imagine 1000 books.  I was overwhelmed with sadness when I realized that I could only expect to read another 1000 books.  Now, I could increase the time I spend reading.  Right now I'd say it averages an hour a day.  And this does not include magazine and internet reading.  It's really hard for me to get in an hour a day reading.  I really have to remember to do it.  Frankly. I do not think I can increase this amount.  Yes, a day here and there - vacations, weekends - I can do more, but honestly, I think this is a realistic goal.

1000 books.  Let's divide this between non-fiction and fiction.  This means only 500 fiction!  500 non-fiction!  Terrible!  It's so finite.  Jesus, I probably have a thousand books I haven't read in my house right now.  It feels like such a small number. 

I have to start reading the classics.  I haven't read Dickens.  I need to read Kingsley Amis' "Lucky Jim" again.  "Lucky Jim" was my father's favorite book, a copy was next to his bedstand his whole life.  I haven't read it since I was in college.  It's a masterpiece.  I have to read it again!  I totally plan to read Dostoyevsky again, and Tolstoy, and Jane Austen.  Just the books I've read and want to read again will take up at least 100 books!  This is a disaster!  What about Evelyn Waugh?  "Scoop" and "Black Mischeif" must be read again.  If I were going to suddenly die in the next year and I realized I'd never read "Scoop" again, it would make my final moments more excrutiating.  Okay, Lucky Jim next. Followed by Scoop.

Oh, except there are other books I want to read.  I have a book about Heddy Lamar and her inventions next to my bed, and it's calling out to me.

I am circling downwards in panic. 

Okay.  This is getting silly.

Let's move on to movies...

These are the movies I watched in March 2012.

1.) "Climates" 2006 directed Nuri Bilge Ceylon

2.) "Shepard of the Hills" 1941, directed by Henry Hathaway

3.) "Three Monkeys" 2008, directed by Nuri Bilge Ceylon

4.) "Anvil! The Story of Anvil!" 2008, directed by Sacha Gervasi

5.) "The African Queen" 1951, directed by John Huston

6.) "Last Train Home" 2009, directed by Lixin Fan

7.) "Carlos" 2010, directed by Olivier Assayas

8.) "Game Change" 2012, directed by Jay Roach

9.) "Distant"  2002, directed by Nuri Bilge Ceylon

10.) "Babies"2010, directed by Thomas Balmes

11.) "House of Flying Daggers" 2004, directed by Yimou Zhang

12.) "Ruby Gentry"1952, directed by King Vidor

Well, I wrote a bit about "Carlos" last month.  It's really worth watching, and I'm still thinking about that film.

A note on my Nuri Bilge Ceylon month.  He's a startlingly talented Turkish director.  "Once Upon a Time in Anatolia" was my favorite film of last year.   It rocked my world, that movie.  It got so under my skin, and images from this film still seep into my days - every day, in fact.  It won't let up.  That film seriously haunts me.

So, this month, I watched all of Ceylon's previous movies.  Each one was a delightful discovery. ("Anatolia" is his crowning masterpiece, however.)  Of the three I watched this month, I think "Distant" is my favorite.  His films are slow, very arty, but yet - not at all pretentious.  The characters are believable and the situations mundane and life changing.  The cinemtography is exquisite.  I just cannot say enough about this director.  He's my favorite working director right now (well, as long as I don't think about this too much.)   He's the film director I've got on my mind, the most.  I want to write more screenplays, and this director has inspired me and inflamed my desire to write.  He's moved the bar up, and yet somehow makes writing like he does seem within reach.

"Last Train Home" is an impecably made documentary about a family in China.  The parents migrated to the city to find work in factories, and their children are being raised by the grandparents.  It's heartwrenching, but the film is done without pity or sentimentalization.  Documentaries are getting better and better, and this is a good example of one done very, very well.

But aside from the Ceylon films, the film that had the most impact on me last month was... Anvil!

Yes, "Anvil."  I watched it twice.  I love that movie so much, I could watch it again right now.  In fact, there is a moment in "Anvil" that relates to my current ruminations on time.  The film is about a hard rock band that didn't make it back in the 80s when they seemed like they were going to explode. (It seems like it's a mocumentary, much like "Spinal Tap" and many critics wondered if it wasn't all fake, but these guys are real, and for me, this film is much funnier and much more profound than "Spinal Tap" - and I really loved "Spinal Tap"!!)   Anyway, Anvil - the band - had many fans.  The music they play isn't my cup of tea, at all.  But that's not the point.  The point is the dedication these two guys (Robb Reiner and Steve "Lips" Kudlow) have about their band, and all their particular personality issues and family issues and performing issues.

At one point Lips says, "You know there isn't that much time in the arts - 30 years and then it's over."  I'm reciting this from memory and I think he says it more eloquently and desperately and poignantly than I just paraphrased, but it broke my heart. Because that is what I've been thinking about too.  When you are young, you don't know how little time there is.  And when your career is ascending, you don't realize how fragile that is, and how instantaneously it can go away.  The film had me laughing both at and with these two guys, sort of like how I laugh at and with myself!  I was just bowled over by this wonderful little movie.  You've got to see it, if you haven't already.

Ta Ta until next month...

:)

I suppose if my sister, Meg, reads this blog entry, she will have her birthday present revealed before she actually sees it in the flesh...err, I mean... fabric.

From time to time, I've bought vintage quilt tops on Ebay and then had them actually quilted and finished.  I have a special attraction to quilt tops made in the 1930s, and this one pictured above is one of them.  I love the peach color and all the fabrics from that time - some are even feedsack cloth.  I bought this especially for Meg, and sent this off to her.  She lives in Tokushima, Japan.  I sent it on the slow route (I imagine barges and old shipmen loading boats.)  Meg is a quilter herself (and a knitter, and an embroiderer, along with many other craft skills...)

Before I get into the movies I watched in February, I have to mention my odd film watching on Sunday.  I've been giggling here and there over the serendipity of life's random events, even when it comes something as mundane as what back-to-back movies one watches.

I wanted to watch all 5 1/2 hours of "Carlos" - a 2010 French film by Olivier Assayas.   It was made for television, and as a full feature film.  I wanted to see this film because, after the Academy Awards, which were so dull and mostly depressing, I was thinking about how wrong the Academy so often is.  I wondered how long we'd be talking and thinking about the movies that won many of the awards in the coming years.  I was also thinking how the National Society of Film Critics is SO MUCH BETTER at giving accurate awards.  So I was tooling around their website, thinking about how they should have a televised show!  I looked at the past awards and was reminded about "Carlos" - it got Best Feature and Best Director in second place for films of 2010 (Second after "The Social Network.")

I got the film.  I should add that I really loved "Summer Hours" the film Assayas made just before "Carlos."  (And which won best Foreign Film for 2009 by the National Society of Film Critiics.)

So - this is a lot of lead up to explain my weird, weird Sunday.  I finished the film on Sunday afternoon, and was sort of thrown into a reverie by it.  I think it's a masterpiece. "Carlos" is about a terrorist - a left wing, PLO (kind of) associated terrorist - he was born in Venezuela and spoke many languages and masterminded several horrific terror plots, including the kidnapping of the entire OPEC conference in 1975 (I have very vague rememberances of that - I was a high school debater then - the topic, "Should OPEC be Abolished?" :)

"Carlos" is incredible, and I recommend it heartily.  But then, Sunday night, Michael and I decided to watch "Game Change."  The Sarah Palin HBO film.  I had extremely low expectations for this film.  But I was surprised at how even handed and accomplished the film was.  The peformances were so good.  I loved that they took the high road, didn't even get into family or anything other than the basic facts.  I liked that they didn't villify or ridiculous-ize Sarah Palin, they made her seem somewhat saner than I thought she was from watching her live on TV.  But how this cumulatively dealt a much darker and subversive blow - how out of control things were and how no one was really responsible and how frightening the outcome was.  In many ways Sarah Palin is a victim.

BUT.  BUT.  BUT.

There were so many unsettling parralels between Carlos and Sarah Palin!  That's what was so wild.  No - Sarah Palin is not a terrorist and didn't murder people.   But I realized that the emotional impact of both films was exactly the same, which is - here is this charismatic person - with these outspoken ideals - who feels there is deep wrong and claims to want to change the world - who's attractive and dynamic. But who - in the end, is basically an empty shell.  There's no true idealism.  There's definitely a desperate need for attention and a deep drive to feel as if they stand for something, but in the end, they stand for nothing.  There's no there there.

Social pathology is so subtle.  Not in these two cases.  These two cases are not subtle at all.  But there is such a huge gray area in people - when is this type of drive and behavior meaningful and accurate and when is it all smoke and mirrors?  God, I love thinking about this.  And I would not have guessed that it was Carlos the Jackal that made me understand better the essential void in the mind of Sarah Palin.

That was quite a Sunday.

Okay, now on to February movie watching....


I have watched these movies during the month of February, 2012

1.)  Iron Lady, 2011, dir. by Phillida Lloyd
2.)  Garden State, 2004, dir. by Zach Braff
3.)  Ordet, 1955, dir. by Carl Dreyer
4.)  A Better Life, 2011, dir. by Chris Weitz
5.)  Hollow Triumph, 1948, dir. by Steve Sekely
6.)  The Bridge on the River Kawai, 1957, dir. by David Lean
7.)  If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front, 2011, dir. by Marshall Curry and Sam Cullman
8.)  Drive, 2011, dir. by Nicolas Winding Refn
9.)  Rango, 2011, dir. by Gore Verbinski
10.)  Pina, 2011, dir. by Win Wenders
11.)  Jane Eyre, 2011, dir. by Cary Fukunaga
12.)  Hell and Back Again, 2011, dir. by Danfung Dennis
13.) Of Time and the City, 2008, dir. by Terrence Davies
14.) Anonymous, 2011, dir. by Roland Emmerich

Looking at this list, here is what is still resonating:  "Ordet."  "Bridge." "Pina."  "Jane" ; and all three docs: "Of Time," "Hell," and "If a Tree."

"Ordet" is something I've wanted to see for some time. I'm a fan of Dreyer's, "The Passion of Joan of Arc" is a film of his that still thrusts it's images into my concious mind from time to time.  But when I saw "Everlasting Moments" and read that the story line and the style was heavily influenced by "Ordet," and knowing that "Everlasting Moments" would be having it's way with my mind for some time, I decided to put "Ordet" in my Netflix queue.  The film was both difficult and difficult not to watch.   It's style is very stilted and can seem almost awkward.  It's point of view is decidedly religious, even though the plot is about bickering religious people.  But the film gave me shivers.  I really recommend it. I might have to watch it again soon.

I did the particpation accounting for "Bridge on the River Kwai" when I was in my twenties, when I worked at Columbia Pictures in their accounting department.  I have wanted to see it since then!  It's an odd film, odder than I thought it would be. Alec Guiness (so young, so handsome!) is an officer who is willing to die as a prisoner of war over this: that officers should not have to do the physical work that the rank and file soldiers - soldiers who are also prisoners of war - are required to do.  I simply could not let go of this insanity.  I felt the point of view of the filmmaker was that we were to see this stance as an indication of his staunch defense of rules, which was a good thing.  Huh?  Or that he was completely mad.  To me, it was just creepy.  The film goes on from there. It's such a good idea for a story - the main plotline, the bridge and the men building it and then it getting destroyed and everyone having such conflicted attitudes.  It's long and I felt trapped with everyone.  The performances are great.  What a wonderful, but odd movie.

Well, now that the Academy Awards have come and gone, I feel happy that I can delve into movies that were not necessarily released this last year. I felt I had a lot of homework.  And when I watched the awards, which was only fun becasue I was following several people on twitter who I think are funny, many of whom are friends too, and it almost felt like we were all together watching.  It was a sort of sad broadcast, and the only truly funny bit was the Wizard of Oz audience testing bit with Fred Willard and everyone else who is hysterical.  That is absolutely the only time I genuinely laughed. On the other hand, I don't need to laugh.  But I do want to feel the awards mean something, and I have to say I began to feel I was losing that sense.

"Pina" is staying with me too.  I don't know a lot about dance, but Wim Wenders caused me to understand how great dance is through this documentary.  I want to see this film again.

Books read in Feb. 2012:

Only two this month, and both by the same astonishing writer.

1.) In Zanesville, by Jo Ann Beard
2.) Boys of My Youth, by Jo Ann Beard

Reading her books, it makes me want to stop even trying to be a writer.  In Zanesville is a lovely romp with a 14 year old girl.  I surrendered to her fiction so deeply, I couldn't pull myself out and had to get to the library to get her earlier book of essays, which is also heart-stoppingly lyrical and breathtaking.  I love this woman.  I want more books from her.

Okay. That's all folks. Back to my own writing slog....

These are my parents, in 1958 just after a wedding shower where my mother had apparently been given an iron.  I love the way my mother has her hand behind her back, my father's hipster glasses, and my mother's somewhat genuine and somewhat fake smile.   Ah...  the smile of marriage.

Get ready to do some ironing!


Okay, allow me to list the movies I watched in January 2012.

1.) Sweet Grass, 2009, directed by Ilisa Barbash and Lucien Castaing-Taylor
2.) Silent Light, 2007, directed by Carlos Reygadas
3.) Casablanca,  1942, directed by Michael Curtiz
4.) Kenny, 2006, directed by Clayton Jacobson
5.) Four Feathers, 1939, directed by Zolton Korda
6.) Deep End, 1970, directed by Jerzy Skolimowski
7.) Carnage, 2011, directed by Roman Polanski
8.) Poetry, 2010, directed by Chang-Dong Lee
9.) The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo, 2011, directed by David Fincher
10.) Once Upon A Time In Anatolia, 2011, directed by Nuri Bilge Ceylan
11.) Five Came Back, 1939, directed by John Farrow
12.) A Separation, 2011, directed by Asghar Farhadi
13.) The Artist, 2011, directed by Michel Hazanavicius
14.) Last Year at Marienbad, 1962, directed by Alain Resnais
15.) Ugetsu, 1953, directed by Kenji Mizoguchi


Hands down, the film that had the most effect on me was "Once Upon a Time in Anatolia."  It's a long movie, 2 hours and 40 minutes.  Not only that, it's a very, very, VERY slow movie.  There are long-shots that are long.  Really long.  Almost-to-the-point-of-parody long.   But it's necessary - you begin to feel you're with the characters in real time.  In the middle of the night.  Driving around the countryside of Turkey.  Looking for a dead body.   With little or no information about who it is, how he died, why it's important, and who the hell everyone who's looking for him is, exactly.  And guess what, it turns out that it actually isn't all that important - the who, how, and why.

Okay, I suppose it's a bit existential.  In fact, I wasn't really all that into this movie until after the two hour mark.  I was a little confused by it's tone, it's lack of forward movement, but I was also enjoying surrendering to the film.  Then suddenly: BAM.  Okay, oh dear, oh yes, oh no, oh wow.  This movie is like wading in water near the shore - with it's calm little waves, rhythmically lapping at your feet.  And just when you start to decide to maybe get out - a monster waves hits you from behind.  But even this analogy is misleading - it's not that anything particularly startling happens, it just suddenly has this cumulative effect.

I cannot stop thinking about this movie.

In fact, I invited a couple of friends over this Friday to see it again.  This time I'll be able to savor those fleeting moments that in retrospect mean so much.  Ceylan lets these moments occur like they would in real life: maybe not important, maybe completely important.   This is the best movie I saw out of the 2011 crop, maybe the most personally impactful movie I've seen in years.  I have Ceylan's previous films in my Netflix queue.  I'm suddenly a big fan.   To me, just from this one film, he's the filmmaker equivilent of the Turkish writer Orhan Pamuk.  There's something so distinctly Turkish about their work, and I barely know what that means.  It's just... Turkish.  If I had to label the feeling it would be: hope with surrender, fatalistic, traditional, yearning, dissapointment, quiet promise.

I felt that way about "Deep End" as well.  This movie was shot in England, but by a Polish director - Jerzy Skolimowsky.  (And starring Jane Asher, Paul McCartney's former gal pal!)  It's in english, but it's a completely Polish movie.  And there's something so Polish - so distinctive. I cannot eloquently explain it, I just can feel it.  Let me try, Polish movies are: thick, saturated, inevitable, darkly comic, a dirge with a tinge of the oblivious.

Which brings me to "Carnage."  Wow.  I really love Polanski.  I can even see why he responded to the play "God of Carnage."  I think he thought it was really funny.  I think there's something about how broad and silly and ridiculous that play is that, through Polish eyes, IS funny.  But I must say it: not funny.  A weird marriage of sensibilities.  I think the actors were having fun.  I wish I was having as much fun watching it as they looked like they were having playing these completely cartoonish characters.  Sadly, I think the premise is brilliant.  But ugh.  It made me glad I didn't see the play.  It wasn't for me.

But I want to concentrate on what I loved watching.

Last month I had the pleasure and honor of hosting three of my dearest friends from Seattle.  Jim Emerson, Kathleen Murphy, and Richard T. Jameson are all close close friends who I've known for over thirty years.  They're all film critics. Last year they also came for a few days in January, and we had a mini film festival in my basement.  We did it again this year, and added an extra day - five days in all -  of film watching.  Such a treat!   Many of the films I watched last month I got to watch along with them. There is just about no greater delight in my opinion.  I didn't offer a film for my contribution, I just made them all sit and watch all seven episodes of "Episodes" - which is a masterpiece of comedy!

Other notes on films from January:  I saw "Casablanca" in downtown Chicago, with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's playing the score.  I forgot how wonderful that movie is, how well written it is.  It was a little distracting, to be honest, having the orchestra there.  But still, a good experience and worth the effort.

"Silent Light" was another movie that has stayed with me a long time after seeing it, like "Once Upon a Time in Anatolia." It's a Mexican film, but about German speaking Mennonites in Mexico.  The entire movie is made in their dialect with non-professional actors from the community.  I had no idea these people existed.  The film is slow and unwinds at it's own pace, but it's beautiful and haunting.  Since I read it was a remake of Dreyer's "Ordet" (at least partially) - I ordered that movie from Netflix and watched it this month (Feb.)   I actually like "Silent Light" better.  Well - they're really so different.  Both were good experiences.

I did not expect to like "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" as I've never  read the book(s) or seen the original movie.  In fact, I felt I had to go see it (my friends wanted to go) and I considered it homework.  To my surprise, I love, LOVED it.  Rooney Mara is enigmatic, disturbing, and you can't take your eyes off her.   The film was quick and yet expertly paced.  I was completely engrossed, actually riveted.  I hope there'll be sequels.

Dare I say it: I think "The Artist" is overrated.  I did like it.  In fact, I liked it very, very much.  But it seems thin.  Also, I got tired of how depressed the main character got.  (The actor George Valentin, played by the actor Jean Dujardin)  It was too much.  And it was also too much, the girl (The actress Peppy Miller played by the actress Berenice Bejo) saving him over and over and OVER again.  (Spoiler Alert)  I wanted to yell at her - stop trying to save this guy - he needs to save himself!  He tries to kill himself too many times.   By the time he was putting a gun in his mouth I wanted him to just go ahead with it.  This film started to feel too much like a male show biz executive's fantasy.   Let's take a moment and think of a comparison: What is the reverse-sex version of this story?  Well, it's "Sunset Blvd."  Imagine Joe Gillis trying to save dear sweet Norma Desmond's life over and over and OVER again.  And the movie ending with a delightful career-saving tap dance?  HA.  All I'm saying is.... Well, I dunno.  I guess I'm saying that men in that situation often get saved by young women, and women in that situation aren't saved at all.  There's my feminist rant on "The Artist."  But okay - this kind of thing does happen for many men.  So all right.   The film is beautiful - and some of the images - one of which I see is being used in advertising - when Peppy puts her hand through George's jacket and then puts her own arm (as his) around herself - god that was GREAT!  And it was shot all over L.A. and that part made me miss Los Angeles so much it hurt.

I wholeheartedly recommend "Poetry."  It's a Korean movie about an older woman who's a little silly and very sweet and genuine.  She has a lot of bad things happening in her life and she's overwhelmed.  For example, she  has a horrible teenage grandson who lives with her.   She takes a poetry class and it's just heartbreaking and transcendant and whole-life -justifying all at the same time.

Oh, and "Kenny."  What a delight.  And a surprise.   I'm not even exactly sure how I came upon this film.  It's an Australian comedy - very improvisational - about a port-a-potty salesman.  At first I thought it was going to just be scatalogical jokes about, well, about shit.  And yes, it is that. But it has a lot more to it - lots of good performances.  I laughed a lot.

I laughed a lot during "Last Year at Marienbad" too.  It's really the epitome of an experimental art film. It doesn't make much sense as a narrative film.  I think I was laughing at the movie, not with it.  But I would hope that when the Renais and Alain Robbe Grillet (the novelist and the man who wrote the script) got over themselves (or actually maybe this is what they intended)  they would laugh too.  I both hated and liked the film.  And yet I felt no quandries about feeling that way.  I get how stylistic it is. I see the composition, the beauty, and even it's oddness.  But it's also ridiculous.  There's some great extras on the Critereon DVD, I especially loved the interview with film scholar Ginette Vincendeau - she goes into the history of the film and it's influences.  In fact, you could skip the movie and just watch her.

Now, let's move to books.

I read these books in January 2012:

1.) 2666, volume 1. Published in  Written by Roberto Bolano.
2.) The Second Shift: Working Parents and the Revolution at Home  Published in 1989.  Written by Arlie Hochschild (with Anne Machung)
3.) Marriage Shock: The Transformation of Women into Wives  Published in 1999.  Written by Dalma Heyn.

I've been wanting to read 2666 for a long time.  For the first half of the this first volume (which is in three books, which are sold all together) I was happily in love with this book. The characters and the set up is delightful - four academics in four different european countries who all study the same mysterious author.  But by the end of the first volume, I felt I'd lost it. I had this same feeling I had reading Orhan Pamuk's "The Museum of Innocence."  I started to seriously think the author had lost it, not just his characters.  I began to feel the author losing himself in his own book, and not in a good way.   As in losing perspective.  And I was willing to go there with Pamuk.  But I don't know. I don't know if I'm in for the other volumes of 2666.

I've been meaning to read The Second Shift for a very long time.  I have read references to it for twenty years!  But I never had any overriding reason to read it.  I knew the basic idea: in families where both partners work, it's still the women who do the "second shift" at home - 80% of the domestic work of child caretaking, cleaning, laundry, cooking, etc.   And yes, that Is the premise in a nutshell.  And I'm sure it's as true today as it was 20 years ago.  But I was unprepared for how compelling and well written and gut-level astonishing - I would even say astounding -  the book was.  I recognized myself, I recognized my marriage, I saw what I was doing to perpetuate inequitable patterns.  I read this for my own book I'm writing - I have a chapter on housecleaners and housekeeping and I just wanted to cover my bases.  Oh Lordy!  I saw that an updated edition was issued on Jan. 31, 2012!  I must get that to see what's different.  I won't go into it all here, I'm trying to write something deeper for my book.  But god - anyone who's in a situation like this - two working parents - should read it.    It was both embarrassing and enlightening for me to read it.

Marriage Shock - that was pretty good as well.  Her basic idea is: women become demure after they get married. They edit their pasts, they don't act as aggressively, or as ambitiously, and they assume the mantle of purity and love.  They do this but they sublimate their resentment at doing this.  It pops out.  And I can see that this is true.  But Heyn only concentrates on marriage, and not on marriage with children.  Possibly this is because she herself doesn't have children.   In any case, I kept thinking that the book only pertained to a small percentage of women and that group didn't include me.  On the other hand, she is one hell of a writer.  God, some of her paragraphs literally took my breath away.  Again, I plan to write a bit about this in my book, so I'll leave this topic for now...

Arden, my dog, continues to live and love.

Arden was diagnosed with an extremely large tumor last June. The tumor is growing between his lungs and heart.  The vet suggested I alert my daughter (who was away at camp at the time) and let her know that Arden may not be alive by the time she got home.  I took Arden to a specialist and after a better X-ray they told me that, indeed, there was a massive tumor.  There was nothing that could be done about it.  He'd probably have a heart attack, or suffocate to death as the tumor got larger and larger.  I was told to expect him to possibly faint, or I could possibly wake up one morning and find him dead, having perished in the night.  It was suggested that he could not go on walks, or rather, on only very short walks.  I was given a medication for him to take to reduce his coughing.

Well, now it's late January.  Arden and I still go on our 2.4 mile walk almost daily (down from our old 3 mile-r) and he's feeling pretty good.  He seems happy and relaxed.  He must've had that tumor for a very long time and it must be very, very slow growing.  He is having problems here and there - every once in a while a limb seems to get numb.  His breathing is weirdly erratic from time to time.  He's a lot more subdued.  A LOT.  But overall, he's in good shape.  I think he'll live for quite some time.

Even though all those above-mentioned possibilities still loom like a dark sky.

I'm very late posting my December lists, and I do feel guilty about that.  I'm promising myself that my January lists will get written up more promptly.  I'm not exactly sure why posting these lists causes me to feel so organized and in control.  But somehow it does.  And so, without further adieu...

Here are the movies that I watched in December:

1.)    Stage Coach, dir. John Ford, 1939
2.)    J. Edgar, dir. Clint Eastwood, 2011
3.)    Young Adult, dir. Jason Reitman, 2011
4.)    The Help, dir. Tate Taylor, 2011
5.)    A Dangerous Method, dir. David Cronenberg, 2011
6.)    The Descendants, dir. Alexander Payne, 2011
7.)    War Horse, dir. Steven Spielberg, 2011
8.)    Moonstruck, dir. Norman Jewison, 1987
9.)    Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, dir. Stephen Daldry, 2011
10.)  Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, dir. Tomas Alfredson, 2011
11.)  Uncle Bonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul, 2010
12.)  The Shop Around The Corner, dir. Ernst Lubitch, 1940
13.)  Days of Heaven, dir. Terrence Malick, 1978
14.)  Tree of Life, dir. Terrence Malick, 2011
15.)  Blossoms of Fire, dir. Maureen Gosling & Ellen Osborne, 2001
16.)  Contagion, dir. Steven Soderbergh, 2011
17.)  How The Grinch Stole Christmas, dir. Chuck Jones & Ben Washam


It was a big month for movies, many which I loved, and others which I not only didn't enjoy, I would go as far as to say I detested them.  So, among this list, of these particular movies which were released in 2011, I would give my best movie award to: Tinker, Tailor.   Second best is a tie between Contagion and The Descendants.

Even though I mostly had no idea what was going on in Tinker, Tailor, I was still enthralled and filled with a deep happy wonder at the unfolding story.   The look of the film, how the scenes built on each other, the performances, the subject - I drank it all up - as if I'd been thirsty for this drink, this taste precisely.  And yet, I hadn't known I was so thirsty for it! I want to see the film again, especially now that I know what the basic story is.  Gary Oldman must be nominated for an Oscar.  Sadly, I wonder if he will be.

There are movies that are impossible to fully experience the first time around. I think Tinker, Tailor might be one of them.  I have no idea why everyone is ignoring it for awards - so far anyway.

I felt The Descendants has been slightly over rated by critics, but only slightly. It definitely grew on me.  The movie got better in the week after I saw it, frankly - as I reflected and turned scenes up and back in my mind.  I appreciated how Hawaii was presented, as a real place where real people really live.  I think Contagion is very good too, why isn't it being nominated so far?  I don't get it.

The worst movies (of the 2011 releases) that I saw in December are:  Worst of all:  Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.  Tie for second worse is between: War Horse and J. Edgar.    Now, as far as Extremely Loud goes - frankly I have such deep contempt for that movie,  I feel to explain why gives it more attention than anyone should ever give to this film.  The kid was so annoying, kids like that are not endearing to me, they're just oblivious jerks.  I know he was supposed to have Aspberger's Syndrome, but then he also showed startling emotional intelligence and insightfulness which is not a characteristic of Asberger's and I felt this was in the film just to cheat, to make the audience like him.  I also did not buy Tom Hank's character and wondered why he thought up absurd mysteries for his son to solve when there would be such joy in investigating things that were real - and when I say real, I just mean that make logical sense and adhere to actual physical rules instead of the gobbeldygook that we were to watch and I guess, admire.

Incredibly Loud: Award for Most Manipulative.

Well, wait.


I take it back.


War Horse gets the award for MOST openly and clunkily manipulative.  And from a director who knows better.  This is the same guy who made Munich? (My personal favorite Spielberg movie.)  I felt the play was also overly sentimental and manipulative, but it was also haunting and beautiful and complexly sad.  The film was not.

Here's an example: In the play the boy's father is an erratic alcoholic who, for mostly egoistic and impulsive reasons buys a horse he cannot really afford, nor take care of.  His son does.  Bad things happen.

But in the movie, we are treated to "why" the father's an alcoholic. He was hurt in a war.  He's wounded.  In fact, he was a hero!  Who has medals hidden away!  So now we're supposed to understand why he drinks.

To me this greatly diminshes the impact of the boy taking over the care of the horse.  He's not giving the horse guidance and protection that he was not given himself, he's now a boy who just doesn't get that his father really is a good guy.  Plus, Spielberg left out the mournful, lone Gaelic singing (which was in the play) and I feel that was a mistake.


J. Edgar missed by a mile for me too.  I kept thinking of the movie that could have been made.  It was excruciating to watch as well. Oh where is that wonderful director of Unforgiven hiding?

I have to say, "The Help" is not worth even considering amongst the list of terrible movies.

Wow.  I'm cranky about movies today.   Cranky and a bit inarticulate.

Fantastic.

Okay, I didn't hate "A Dangerous Method."  But I didn't love it either.  Many of my friends, friends who mostly have a similar film sensibility as myself, just loved it.  I dunno.  Maybe it was the time I watched.  I may need to give that film another go.

Also, not a fan of "Young Adult." Even though I think Patton was fantastic and should be nominated for an Academy Award.  And Charlize Theron was great too.  But, I don't think I'm ultimately a fan of Diablo Cody.  I want to be!  There's so much about her spunk and drive and insightfulness that I really enjoy.  But I feel she took the easy way out with this script by making the Theron character so completely unsympathetic.  I felt she was just trying to shock people with her brutal honesty  and unforgiving candid eye, but truthfully - in the end she just wrote about an underdeveloped, unlikable character that somehow we're supposed to...

wait...

to what?

I'm not in any way averse to unsympathetic characters.  In fact, I like them.  I just felt that there was so much more she could have mined.  I felt she hadn't done her homework.  Here's an example: in the final scene where Patton's character's sister gives her this speech about how small town life is so dumb and boring and Theron's character's life is so wonderful and great - why couldn't it have been more realistic and insightful?  Why didn't the sister character say something like: "You don't get to have it all.  You got a life that's exciting in many ways that life here is not."   But instead Cody's written a speech that makes everyone in the small town seem like rubes.  And Theron, although unlikable, is still cool and hip and successful.  To me that was the take-away from Young Adult.  Cody is telling us: "I have a great career that doesn't require that much effort.  So fuck you all in small towns everywhere.  I may be depressed and mean, but I'm really cool while I do it!"

This is too much time in the negative, let's go positive.

Let's turn to some movies that have - by any standard - stood the test of time.  First of all "Stage Coach" is a masterpiece. In fact, my daughter Mulan is home from school today, sick, and I just may insist that we watch "Stage Coach."  I think that's the finest movie, overall, that I watched all month.

Well, "The Shop Around The Corner" is a perfect movie too.  Yes, it's perfect.  We watched it on Christmas day with my mother (who was visiting) and my dearest friend Gino who also spent the day with us.  For me, to watch The Shop Around The Corner on Christmas Day is a great Christmas Day.  In fact, I think it's required Christmas viewing.   For the record, I've never seen "You've Got Mail."  I'm just too afraid that my beloved movie has been mangled.

I wasn't enthralled with "The Tree of Life."  But there were parts I did love, many many parts.  Jessica Chastain is great - along with Brad Pitt.  But the film is a confusing mess to me.  I felt that the point of view of the director was: "We are all part of a plan, a plan we don't understand but naturally yearn for."  I think it would've been much more powerful and poignant if I got the sense that the film's creator felt this slightly (okay greatly) tweaked and different way:   "Evidence shows that the world has no plan, and it's a tragedy of human existence that we keep yearning and seeking a plan, or reasons, or meaning when there ultimately may not be any."

I still think you could have kept most of the movie the same!   Lose the ending with dead people in heaven walking on a beach.  The dinosaur scene were I guess we are supposed to witness the beginnings of compassion was weird and wrong.  In fact, in keeping with Malick's theme, he could have done a scene with the beginnings of love in humans - motherly love! That truly is the alpha and omega of love. We're bonded because we give birth to completely helpless beings who get their evolutionary advantage through culture which is transmitted by doting and caring parents, most of whom are the mothers of those helpless beings.  That would've still been in the theme of his film!  Oh!

Why don't directors like Malick consult with me before they begin shooting? Honestly!

:)

I will say that watching "Days of Heaven" I expected to love it - I loved it when it came out.  But really - that movie is truly a masterpiece.  That is a perfect film.  Not one frame, not one word is off, in my not-exactly-humble-I-admit opinion.  Days of Heaven is sublime.  Much better than I remembered, and I have such happy memories of that film.  I saw it when I was in college.  I sat in the movie theater for some time afterwards, just absorbing what I saw.  And yet, the film was even better than I could have understood at the time.  (Come to think of it, Day's of Heaven's directorial theme is the one I articulated above, the one I wished Malick still held.)

I suppose that makes three perfect movies for last month: Stage Coach, The Shop, and Days.

Now on to books, and finally I'll write a word or two about Victoria Jackson.

I only read three books last month.

1.) A Mother'sWork: How Feminism, The Market, and Policy Shape Family Life, written by Neil Gilbert
2.) Shockaholic, by Carrie Fisher
3.) The Sexual Paradox, by Susan Pinker

I enjoyed all these books tremendously.  Fisher's chapter on spending Michael Jackson's last Christmas with his family was riveting and insightful and hilarious as only she can be.  Gilbert's "A Mother's Work" was enlightening. I have such a different view of how our culture should be helping frame the idea of motherhood in our society than I ever did before and much of it is in alignment with Gilbert's views.  But I won't go into this here, because I'm putting this in my book.   The Sexual Paradox is full of good information as well.  But, again, I won't get into that here.  

Now, onto Victoria Jackson.  Many people, more than I would have ever expected, have written me to ask me if Victoria Jackson is for real.  The way she appears, the views she espouses, and how she espouses them, is very confusing.

It's true. I've felt this way from the beginning.  Imagine if Steven Colbert were actually the character he plays: Steven Colbert of "The Colbert Report."  Would that not be highly confusing?  We enjoy Steven Colbert because we see there is a genius inside him that can see all the hypocrisy and inanity of our political system as well as the media, and he's so focused, smart and funny that he plays with it all - he's like Mozart playing tunes from notes out of our deeply dysfunctional system of government and media.  But Victoria.  Victoria.

So, to answer the question that many have asked me.... Yes.  She is for real. She really does believe all the things she says. To my knowledge, there will not be a day when she says: the jig is up.  It was all a performance piece.

What bothers me is that she wants to have it both ways at once. She wants to get the laughs that are there for characters who are kooky and dimwitted, but then she also wants to use this persona to make real points and arguments.  Points and arguments that are not ironic, they are completely naked and honest and forthright.  But she'll take the laughs.  I don't know why those on the right let her be part of their media-pushes.  To me it would be like, like if there was a "comedian" who's character was a Marxist-Leninist. He wears a beard and small round glasses and all black and he says things like:  The Government should own all the land!  People should not be allowed to own any money!  Free Enterprise should be stopped!

And then he has a soap box that he carries around with him, and he puts it out there - and it even says "Soap Box" on it, and he gets on top of it and yells and gesticulates like a cartoon of communism.

And he's on talk shows and everyone laughs at how nutty he is.

Only he really believes what he's saying.  He may be somewhat confused about why people are laughing.  But he doesn't care enough to analyze it, he really just wants the laughs.  He hears the laughs, and he'll happily take the laughs.

Now, wouldn't you have a certain contempt for this person?  Wouldn't you think: if they know people are laughing at them, doesn't that reduce their credibility?  Doesn't it make it seem as if the point of view they have is being compromised by the very laughs they're receiving?

I suppose it comes down to a demarcation in comedy.  You are laughed at, or you are laughed with.  Most comedians dabble in both ways of getting laughs.  In fact, it's a good exercise.  The next time you watch a comedian, just say out loud, as they get the laugh - "at"  "at"  "with" with."  It's very educational.

But you expect that when a comedian is getting an "at" laugh, that they know they're getting it.  More specifically, they know WHY they're getting it.  They are the wiser.  Their act is planned out in this way.

This is the thing: I don't think Victoria's act is planned out that way.  It's for real.

She's not Andy Kaufman (as many emailers have asked me.)   The "there" you think is "there" is not "there."

As far as I know.

I had someone forward me a song that Victoria has recorded and is up on You Tube, about - well, I suppose it's about me. It's about a fellow cast member who's an "atheist" (I personally prefer the term: non-believer)  and she wrote a song about it.  Here's her complaint with me: I talk about it all the time.  There's a chorus where she sings, "And she goes blah blah blah about it ALL DAY LONG."

That's a very weak argument.  This is an argument that my own mother might've used.  Did use, come to think of it.  "Why do you have to talk about it?"

Seriously, what kind of argument is that?  That's not an argument.   You may as well say, "She's a non-believer and she wears poorly constructed shoes."  What do the shoes have to do with anything?

But, really, what is that argument?

This is the argument of shut up.  The argument of be quiet.  The argument of why-are-you-talking-about-something-that-makes-me-uncomfortable.

Personally I don't think I talk too much about religion. In fact, I seriously think I talk about it too little. But my talking more or less about it is not an argument in favor of, or against the quality of my arguments.

I mean, duh.

I am now feeling like I over ranted over this topic that is not consuming very many people. In fact, it may be extremely few people.  But still, since some people had written and asked, I figured I'd explain a bit.

Or something like that.

Ha.

Okay, that's all I have to say on this subject for now.....