Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 153
February 11, 2017
Melania's diary, and Piers Morgan makes a tiny bit of sense
Slow recovery continues. I went to the Y! Could not wait to immerse my body in steam, get clean, wash my hair. It was heaven - the hot tub, the steam room, the sauna. I am now scrubbed and drained.
And speaking of drains, John came back and we have hot water in the kitchen! Such a snazzy new high-neck faucet.
I have to say, I am proud of the fact that I kept going through sick. I organized my class, edited their pieces, edited two massive sections for the student writing a book, continued work on my own memoir. My computer never left me; what a friend it is to the invalid. And I didn't even remember I had Netflix.
Sam and I watched Bill Maher last night. Piers Morgan was on, representing El Trumpo and the right wing, but actually - a few of the things he said made sense. He said people are getting hysterically negative, angry and fraught about absolutely everything, which will not help, and I think that's right. I know there is more than enough to be angry and fraught about, for sure, but for example, I was sorry to read that Betsy DeVos had been prevented from visiting her first public school. That's now her job, she knows she is very unpopular, let her get on with it and let's start to shriek if - when - she does something horrible. But we can't protest everything all the time. If this goes on, America will be so damaged and divided, it will be as if another Civil War has taken place and left a rift that can never be repaired. Maybe that has already happened.
However - we can still laugh. We must laugh. And here, to give you a great Saturday laugh, is Melania's diary from the inauguration, thanks to Paul Rudnick at the New Yorker.
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/02/06/melanias-diary-1-21-2017
Sam is coming straight from work later to watch "Saturday Night Live". We can't wait.
And speaking of drains, John came back and we have hot water in the kitchen! Such a snazzy new high-neck faucet.
I have to say, I am proud of the fact that I kept going through sick. I organized my class, edited their pieces, edited two massive sections for the student writing a book, continued work on my own memoir. My computer never left me; what a friend it is to the invalid. And I didn't even remember I had Netflix.
Sam and I watched Bill Maher last night. Piers Morgan was on, representing El Trumpo and the right wing, but actually - a few of the things he said made sense. He said people are getting hysterically negative, angry and fraught about absolutely everything, which will not help, and I think that's right. I know there is more than enough to be angry and fraught about, for sure, but for example, I was sorry to read that Betsy DeVos had been prevented from visiting her first public school. That's now her job, she knows she is very unpopular, let her get on with it and let's start to shriek if - when - she does something horrible. But we can't protest everything all the time. If this goes on, America will be so damaged and divided, it will be as if another Civil War has taken place and left a rift that can never be repaired. Maybe that has already happened.
However - we can still laugh. We must laugh. And here, to give you a great Saturday laugh, is Melania's diary from the inauguration, thanks to Paul Rudnick at the New Yorker.
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/02/06/melanias-diary-1-21-2017
Sam is coming straight from work later to watch "Saturday Night Live". We can't wait.
February 10, 2017
I accidentally bought a giant pig
Getting better, thank you. Coughing up bits of my lungs, but otherwise, life is returning. Praise the lord and pass the antibiotics.
There's a snowstorm, and John my handyman friend is here because the kitchen sink - of course - started leaking all over the floor. Everything AND the kitchen sink goes wrong here. My first excursion out of the house in days, except for the trip to the doctor, was to Home Hardware in John's van, to look at faucets. Now that's exciting.
So I have nothing to say except I'm out of bed, and this is a time of utter hideousness and political gloom. Each apocalyptic NYT article more heartfelt than the last, but terrifying. I may have to stop reading and go to bed. Oh wait. Been there, done that.
So here is something to truly cheer you up. This photo is worth its weight in gold.
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2017/feb/10/experience-i-accidentally-bought-a-giant-pig
There's a snowstorm, and John my handyman friend is here because the kitchen sink - of course - started leaking all over the floor. Everything AND the kitchen sink goes wrong here. My first excursion out of the house in days, except for the trip to the doctor, was to Home Hardware in John's van, to look at faucets. Now that's exciting.
So I have nothing to say except I'm out of bed, and this is a time of utter hideousness and political gloom. Each apocalyptic NYT article more heartfelt than the last, but terrifying. I may have to stop reading and go to bed. Oh wait. Been there, done that.
So here is something to truly cheer you up. This photo is worth its weight in gold.
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2017/feb/10/experience-i-accidentally-bought-a-giant-pig
February 9, 2017
mmmm medicine
Bliss. Bliss bliss bliss. Back in bed, my son downstairs making tea, and in my sore belly, two yellow antibiotic pills. The nurse practitioner - god bless those women - said yes, it's pneumonia or a like chest infection. I feel so much better already - a diagnosis, medicine, a very tall young man at my beck and call. Well, he's not terribly beck-and-call'ish, but he tries. He says he'll make me macaroni and cheese. As a kid, when I was getting better from being sick, my mama made her homemade macaroni and cheese and it was the best thing ever.
On the not so blissful side, there's a rumour that Sarah Palin will be the U.S. Ambassador to Canada. The thrills continue. The laughs roll in.
Doug Youmans @dippedbananaDear Mr. Trump: Rather than appoint Sarah Palin as ambassador to Canada, please bomb us. Signed, all intelligent life in Canada. #killmenow3:04 PM - 8 Feb 2017 234234 Retweets 401401 likes
On the not so blissful side, there's a rumour that Sarah Palin will be the U.S. Ambassador to Canada. The thrills continue. The laughs roll in.
Doug Youmans @dippedbananaDear Mr. Trump: Rather than appoint Sarah Palin as ambassador to Canada, please bomb us. Signed, all intelligent life in Canada. #killmenow3:04 PM - 8 Feb 2017 234234 Retweets 401401 likes
a little white whine
As I dragged myself from bed this morning - expecting at last to be better, and definitely not better - I thought, maybe this isn't flu. Maybe it's bronchitis or pneumonia, to which I'm susceptible. Because this is five days of feeling like shit. Enough is enough. So - I have to get dressed and across town, which will be a major achievement, to see my doctor this afternoon. Yay.
If you'll permit me a little whine ... you know that I love my single life, never having to check in with anyone, my own boss, my own timetable and decisions. All of it, pure freedom, me and Mary Tyler Moore, happy busy singletons in the big city, tossing our hats into the air. But there's a price, and that price is right now. What I wouldn't give to hear a kind voice say, "You know, sweetheart, you've been sick for days, maybe it's more than the flu..." As my friend Chris writes in his blog, it's hard to be sick when you're single. And I'm lucky - my son is coming today to make soup, my daughter would come in a flash, my neighbours are wonderfully supportive - Gretchen just emailed a file of her playing a piano piece for me! I mean, does it get nicer than that? Jean-Marc delivered the NYT, Ruth just sent an e-card, Carol my tenant has been patiently making tea and getting groceries. I am surrounded with loving support and have NOTHING to complain about. I am not complaining.
I'm just saying that this morning, hearing a voice say, "Sweetheart, you still don't look so good. Why don't you call the doctor?" would have been nice.
And I know, even in longterm marriages, there's no guarantee your partner would be caring or cognizant or thoughtful. Or even THERE. I just feel like whining, so you know I'm not always perky. I am not always perky. Anyway, no problem, I said the words to myself, with slightly less affection, maybe, but with the same result: doctor's appointment.
On the plus side, in our world of wonder, there are comedians. Marvellous comedians saving the day - thank god for them. I watched Sam Bee last night, with a stunning piece about Trump's foray into Scotland; you can imagine what the Scottish have to say about him and what delicious words they use to say it. I saw a picture on FB of Alec Baldwin's latest incarnation of Trump and laughed out loud.
The world is insane, but luckily there are brilliant, generous men and women who catch the insanity in their ideas and words and reflect it back to us with humour, so that we can laugh.
So that we can bear it.
If you'll permit me a little whine ... you know that I love my single life, never having to check in with anyone, my own boss, my own timetable and decisions. All of it, pure freedom, me and Mary Tyler Moore, happy busy singletons in the big city, tossing our hats into the air. But there's a price, and that price is right now. What I wouldn't give to hear a kind voice say, "You know, sweetheart, you've been sick for days, maybe it's more than the flu..." As my friend Chris writes in his blog, it's hard to be sick when you're single. And I'm lucky - my son is coming today to make soup, my daughter would come in a flash, my neighbours are wonderfully supportive - Gretchen just emailed a file of her playing a piano piece for me! I mean, does it get nicer than that? Jean-Marc delivered the NYT, Ruth just sent an e-card, Carol my tenant has been patiently making tea and getting groceries. I am surrounded with loving support and have NOTHING to complain about. I am not complaining.
I'm just saying that this morning, hearing a voice say, "Sweetheart, you still don't look so good. Why don't you call the doctor?" would have been nice.
And I know, even in longterm marriages, there's no guarantee your partner would be caring or cognizant or thoughtful. Or even THERE. I just feel like whining, so you know I'm not always perky. I am not always perky. Anyway, no problem, I said the words to myself, with slightly less affection, maybe, but with the same result: doctor's appointment.
On the plus side, in our world of wonder, there are comedians. Marvellous comedians saving the day - thank god for them. I watched Sam Bee last night, with a stunning piece about Trump's foray into Scotland; you can imagine what the Scottish have to say about him and what delicious words they use to say it. I saw a picture on FB of Alec Baldwin's latest incarnation of Trump and laughed out loud.
The world is insane, but luckily there are brilliant, generous men and women who catch the insanity in their ideas and words and reflect it back to us with humour, so that we can laugh.So that we can bear it.
February 8, 2017
Here comes the sun
I try to imagine what it must be like for people who don't have the privileged life I do, as a self-employed person with flexible hours. When they're sick, like this, what happens? They must do their best to get to work, aching bones and all, or else they lose pay. And then they get sicker. I'm in bed for the third day in a row, still not well though marginally better each day, but this bug is a tank, a giant tanker that smashed into my body and head, taking away energy, appetite, sleep. How lucky that I do not have to get up and do anything. I can work from bed. My mortgage is paid.
But I want it to be over; the house, my life, everything is falling apart. This is enough. I'm speaking sternly to my body, but the Thing is taking its bloody time to depart. I'm even not interested in food or wine, that's how bad it is. That's how you know Kaplan is REALLY sick, if she doesn't care one bit about meals or drink, except lemon-honey tea for the cough.
And in the meantime, the news is so dire, so mind-blowingly horrendous, that I wonder if perhaps we should all just stay in bed for the next four years, or at least until he and his people go away forever. How will this end - in nuclear war? In global economic meltdown? In the kind of authoritarian dystopia painted by George Orwell and Margaret Atwood? Terrifying. Definitely not helping this small person get over the flu.
BUT - there's Elizabeth Warren, battling like Joan of Arc. There's Bernie, there are great American thinkers and journalists rising to the occasion - Robert Reich, Bill Moyers, Dan Rather, bravo, gentlemen. I just watched two of my favourite men on earth, John Oliver and Stephen Colbert, together, on the case. Oliver's show returns Sunday night, be still my beating heart. These superb human beings are the voice of sanity in a time of sheer criminal lunacy. When you think of what needs to be done in the world, and the time, energy and money wasted hurtling backwards into hell because of that hideous human being, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
I am actually sitting up as I type this, in my ratty bathrobe, swaddled in blankets and shawls, but in my office where the sun is struggling to shine through the clouds. And where there's even a trace of sun, there's hope. There's life.
Onward.
But I want it to be over; the house, my life, everything is falling apart. This is enough. I'm speaking sternly to my body, but the Thing is taking its bloody time to depart. I'm even not interested in food or wine, that's how bad it is. That's how you know Kaplan is REALLY sick, if she doesn't care one bit about meals or drink, except lemon-honey tea for the cough.
And in the meantime, the news is so dire, so mind-blowingly horrendous, that I wonder if perhaps we should all just stay in bed for the next four years, or at least until he and his people go away forever. How will this end - in nuclear war? In global economic meltdown? In the kind of authoritarian dystopia painted by George Orwell and Margaret Atwood? Terrifying. Definitely not helping this small person get over the flu.
BUT - there's Elizabeth Warren, battling like Joan of Arc. There's Bernie, there are great American thinkers and journalists rising to the occasion - Robert Reich, Bill Moyers, Dan Rather, bravo, gentlemen. I just watched two of my favourite men on earth, John Oliver and Stephen Colbert, together, on the case. Oliver's show returns Sunday night, be still my beating heart. These superb human beings are the voice of sanity in a time of sheer criminal lunacy. When you think of what needs to be done in the world, and the time, energy and money wasted hurtling backwards into hell because of that hideous human being, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
I am actually sitting up as I type this, in my ratty bathrobe, swaddled in blankets and shawls, but in my office where the sun is struggling to shine through the clouds. And where there's even a trace of sun, there's hope. There's life.
Onward.
February 7, 2017
So True changed back again!
I have just heard from an abjectly apologetic Ralph who runs the Social Capital, the second floor of the Black Swan where we hold our So True reading series. Last week he was told by the bar owners on the ground floor that a band would be playing on Sunday Feb. 26, the afternoon of our show, so we would have to change to the following week. So we did, not without hassle - all the readers shifted and confirmed, and I had a new poster made.
And now Ralph has been informed that the band has changed its mind and will perform on the Sunday in March. Our original Sunday Feb. 26 date is now open again. I'm waiting to hear from all our readers, but it looks as if we're going back to that original date. Ralph is very very sorry, and I am very very sorry. The only people not sorry are the band and the bar downstairs which hires them, thoughtless and mean-spirited, the Donald Trumps of the Danforth.
Back to the original date, as far as I know: Sunday Feb. 26, doors open at 4, show at 4.30. The stories are breathtaking. If you can actually get there and we can actually perform.
I'm better, almost human, but definitely not perky. Still in bed, coughing and working. Oh the miracles of modern technology - I've spent the whole day editing the essays students sent last night and then a long edit of a former student who's writing a book with me - oh, and also reducing my inbox from 78 to 29, mostly by deleting stuff "I might get to someday", though sometimes by moving an article into another file where it will fester forever, like the black bananas my mother refused to throw out. Or at least until the next time I'm stuck in bed for days and have time to get to all that online reading.
It's a hideous day, bleak, sleet, and I'm in my command central, propped up on pillows - Colette, anyone? - with phone, iPhone, computer, daytimer, books, papers ... and a very numb bottom. Coughing and working. Usually I teach on Tuesday afternoons. Thank you god for cancelling my U of T class this term.
My daughter who yesterday was sicker than I is so much better today that she took her toddler to the drop-in and both her kids to Eli's after-school hockey, in the sleet. I salute her. Magnificent. That's the difference between 35 and 66.
P.S. Just read about Betsy De Vos, just elected to be an Education Secretary who hates public education, with Scott Pruitt, openly supported by Big Oil, nominated to be head of the EPA who hates the EPA, coming next. It's so profoundly depressing and terrifying, on this dark day, to feel our neighbours hurtling backwards to the Dark Ages. Who's next? What if the foul Kevin what's his name, our version of Trumpo, becomes head of the Conservatives here and stirs up the same vicious racism and xenophobia to get elected? What is happening to our world?
I may be sick but I need a little glass of wine. Or a lot of chocolate. Or both.
PPS. Keep up, will you? As the Trump turns ... Now there's this. Never too dark for a little sunshine.
Apple, Google, Facebook and Microsoft file opposition to Trump's travel ban
And now Ralph has been informed that the band has changed its mind and will perform on the Sunday in March. Our original Sunday Feb. 26 date is now open again. I'm waiting to hear from all our readers, but it looks as if we're going back to that original date. Ralph is very very sorry, and I am very very sorry. The only people not sorry are the band and the bar downstairs which hires them, thoughtless and mean-spirited, the Donald Trumps of the Danforth.
Back to the original date, as far as I know: Sunday Feb. 26, doors open at 4, show at 4.30. The stories are breathtaking. If you can actually get there and we can actually perform.
I'm better, almost human, but definitely not perky. Still in bed, coughing and working. Oh the miracles of modern technology - I've spent the whole day editing the essays students sent last night and then a long edit of a former student who's writing a book with me - oh, and also reducing my inbox from 78 to 29, mostly by deleting stuff "I might get to someday", though sometimes by moving an article into another file where it will fester forever, like the black bananas my mother refused to throw out. Or at least until the next time I'm stuck in bed for days and have time to get to all that online reading.
It's a hideous day, bleak, sleet, and I'm in my command central, propped up on pillows - Colette, anyone? - with phone, iPhone, computer, daytimer, books, papers ... and a very numb bottom. Coughing and working. Usually I teach on Tuesday afternoons. Thank you god for cancelling my U of T class this term.
My daughter who yesterday was sicker than I is so much better today that she took her toddler to the drop-in and both her kids to Eli's after-school hockey, in the sleet. I salute her. Magnificent. That's the difference between 35 and 66.
P.S. Just read about Betsy De Vos, just elected to be an Education Secretary who hates public education, with Scott Pruitt, openly supported by Big Oil, nominated to be head of the EPA who hates the EPA, coming next. It's so profoundly depressing and terrifying, on this dark day, to feel our neighbours hurtling backwards to the Dark Ages. Who's next? What if the foul Kevin what's his name, our version of Trumpo, becomes head of the Conservatives here and stirs up the same vicious racism and xenophobia to get elected? What is happening to our world?
I may be sick but I need a little glass of wine. Or a lot of chocolate. Or both.
PPS. Keep up, will you? As the Trump turns ... Now there's this. Never too dark for a little sunshine.
Apple, Google, Facebook and Microsoft file opposition to Trump's travel ban
February 6, 2017
memory of Cruel Tears
My class is happening right now - those who are there are conducting it themselves, and others have already sent me their essays. What a terrific bunch! And I am in bed, where I have spent the whole day, mostly unmoving with my eyes closed. I can't eat. This is the worst bug in years; Anna has it too, and we both got the flu shot!
But as I lie here aching from head to foot, I am deeply deeply grateful, because this brings back a particularly painful memory. In 1977 or 78 I was part of a cross-Canada tour of the musical Cruel Tears, a country-western version of Othello. Yes. We spent months getting from Vancouver to Toronto via many communities big and small. In Toronto, finally, it was winter. We were appearing at the Bathurst St. Theatre, the drafty old church, and one day, I got sick. Really really sick, like this sick, aching, head throbbing, stomach heaving. Only there were shows to do, and no understudies, no option to say no thank you, I'll just stay in bed. It was a musical; I had to sing and dance with high energy, while I thought I was going to die. Several of us were sick; they put a mattress backstage so we could lie down, and I'd lie there, shivering, until it was time to go out on stage and sparkle.
One big reason I am glad that's not what I do any more.Thank you to my students, who have taken over for tonight, so Teach can recover. That can't happen soon enough.
But as I lie here aching from head to foot, I am deeply deeply grateful, because this brings back a particularly painful memory. In 1977 or 78 I was part of a cross-Canada tour of the musical Cruel Tears, a country-western version of Othello. Yes. We spent months getting from Vancouver to Toronto via many communities big and small. In Toronto, finally, it was winter. We were appearing at the Bathurst St. Theatre, the drafty old church, and one day, I got sick. Really really sick, like this sick, aching, head throbbing, stomach heaving. Only there were shows to do, and no understudies, no option to say no thank you, I'll just stay in bed. It was a musical; I had to sing and dance with high energy, while I thought I was going to die. Several of us were sick; they put a mattress backstage so we could lie down, and I'd lie there, shivering, until it was time to go out on stage and sparkle.
One big reason I am glad that's not what I do any more.Thank you to my students, who have taken over for tonight, so Teach can recover. That can't happen soon enough.
sick as a dog
I don't know why they say "sick as a dog" - do dogs get sicker than other creatures? But that's what I am. It's a big bad flu that has my body and head aching, even my eyeballs hurt, my stomach queasy though I'm hungry. I had hoped to be well enough to teach my course tonight, though I wrote to the students last night to warn them that I was ill and suggest, if I couldn't make it, they meet anyway.
They're so fabulous - that's just what they're going to do, read their stories to each other and then email them to me for further comment. What a relief I don't have to drag myself out into the cold - the first time in 23 years of teaching that I won't make it to a scheduled class. Carol is now going to go to Daniel and Daniel to try to find some bland foods I can digest, and dear Jean-Marc has just brought me the NYT and suggested I avoid the articles about El Trumpo. But, I said, that means there'll be nothing in the paper at all!
My daughter is even sicker, and she has two little kids - so much worse, poor soul. There must have been some hideous bug at the AGO! The worst was last night - I took a Tylenol Cold Nighttime AND one of my precious emergency sleeping pills, and it was as if I'd drunk two cups of coffee, my whole system speeding all through the night. In the morning I brought a cup of tea to bed and spilled it all over the comforter.
Oh, my friend the well-known writer wrote back nice things about the piece I sent her about 1967, the Summer of Love, but had no idea about where to place it. When my brain and body return, I'll get back on the case.
I always say that periodically, we all need to crash. Here's to crashing. Involuntary, yes, but necessary.
They're so fabulous - that's just what they're going to do, read their stories to each other and then email them to me for further comment. What a relief I don't have to drag myself out into the cold - the first time in 23 years of teaching that I won't make it to a scheduled class. Carol is now going to go to Daniel and Daniel to try to find some bland foods I can digest, and dear Jean-Marc has just brought me the NYT and suggested I avoid the articles about El Trumpo. But, I said, that means there'll be nothing in the paper at all!
My daughter is even sicker, and she has two little kids - so much worse, poor soul. There must have been some hideous bug at the AGO! The worst was last night - I took a Tylenol Cold Nighttime AND one of my precious emergency sleeping pills, and it was as if I'd drunk two cups of coffee, my whole system speeding all through the night. In the morning I brought a cup of tea to bed and spilled it all over the comforter.
Oh, my friend the well-known writer wrote back nice things about the piece I sent her about 1967, the Summer of Love, but had no idea about where to place it. When my brain and body return, I'll get back on the case.
I always say that periodically, we all need to crash. Here's to crashing. Involuntary, yes, but necessary.
February 5, 2017
"Canada, Leading the Free World" and SNL
People are fighting him around the world. It's heartening. I'm in bed with snow falling, the light outside grey and bleak, there are lunatics in the White House, but good people everywhere are uniting in combat.
And if one thing could cheer me up today, it's this. Never have I been more proud to be Canadian. Conservative leadership candidates, I hope you, unlike El Trumpo, know how to read.
OP-ED COLUMNISTCanada, Leading the Free WorldBY NICHOLAS KRISTOFCanadians, who are proudly multicultural, welcome Syrian and other refugees.Or, copy and paste this URL into your browser: https://nyti.ms/2k8hTvlAnd for another treat, for the nine people on earth who've not seen it yet, please watch Melissa McCarthy as Sean Spicer on SNL. And the world shall be saved by comedians. http://occupydemocrats.com/2017/02/05/snl-just-shredded-trumps-press-secretary-sean-spicer/
And if one thing could cheer me up today, it's this. Never have I been more proud to be Canadian. Conservative leadership candidates, I hope you, unlike El Trumpo, know how to read.
OP-ED COLUMNISTCanada, Leading the Free WorldBY NICHOLAS KRISTOFCanadians, who are proudly multicultural, welcome Syrian and other refugees.Or, copy and paste this URL into your browser: https://nyti.ms/2k8hTvlAnd for another treat, for the nine people on earth who've not seen it yet, please watch Melissa McCarthy as Sean Spicer on SNL. And the world shall be saved by comedians. http://occupydemocrats.com/2017/02/05/snl-just-shredded-trumps-press-secretary-sean-spicer/
