Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 160

election night 7.30 p.m.

Just turned it on FOR A SECOND. Trump ahead. Turned it off. Turned to Twitter instead and got a whole bunch of pix of "Good dogs for Clinton." Now listening to Macca, Disc 3. Friends are coming over soon. My heart was heavy, then I saw this picture from San Francisco. I love humanity again.

Thanks, Susan B.!

People Wait in Line to Say Thank You and Pay Homage to Voting Rights Activist Susan B AnthonyBy Sarah Jones on Tue, Nov 8th, 2016    2016 Elections, Editors' Picks, Featured News, Hillary Clinton  People in Rochester, New York are waiting in line at the grave of voting rights activist Susan B. Anthony so they can thank her and leave "I voted" stickers on her grave. [image error] People in Rochester, New York are waiting in line at the grave of voting rights activist Susan B. Anthony so they can thank her and leave “I voted” stickers on her grave.Caught on Camera: Donald Trump Makes Sure His Own Wife Votes For HimBy Sarah Jones on Tue, Nov 8th, 2016    2016 Elections, Donald Trump, Editors' Picks, Featured News  CNN caught Republican nominee Donald Trump looking over his wife's shoulder as she voted as if he needed to verify her ballot for some reason. [image error] CNN caught Republican nominee Donald Trump looking over his wife’s shoulder as she voted as if he needed to verify her ballot for some reason.

five p.m. election night

Monique is coming over at 8 "avec du champagne," she says, so she's pretty sure we'll have someone to toast. Richard, the expert in all things political - who just did a CTV commentary on Prince Harry's very stern plea to the media to leave his new girlfriend alone - says we won't know what way the wind is blowing until after 9. Jon Stewart gladdened our hearts by appearing on the Colbert show last night, goof that he is. Thank the good lord for all the brilliant comedians, for Alec Baldwin and Kate McKinnon on SNL, for the wonderful Samantha Bee and John Oliver and Trevor Noah and all the others, on the air and on the net, trying to get some of us to pay attention, and to help the rest of us get through.

I have faith. I declare this at 5 p.m. on election night; it's already pitch black outside, but still mild and very beautiful. I have faith.

In the meantime, more disintegration, not of the house, for once, but of me - my right eye is bright neon blinding red, absolutely hideous. I turned of course to Dr. Google, who told me it's a broken blood vessel, nothing to be done. A student at Ryerson last night said about my eye, It's Trump, isn't it? Yes, yes it is, it is Trump's fault, as is almost everything bad on earth right now. It's as if he has unleashed the forces of hell, the hidden cesspit of racism, sexism and general vileness dormant in us all. And all this is manifest in my eye.

Ah well, Monique is coming over at 8 with a bottle of champagne. Let's pray we have reason to drink it.

In the meantime, here are some beautiful fall colours for you to enjoy, to take your mind off what's going on in the world right now, to stop you from chewing your nails:
 The corner of Spruce and Sackville, just up the street,
 and just around the corner.
 The last of my tomatoes.
You know where, not looking too bad considering that everything is beginning to fade.

And here, to show the forces of tolerance at work, are pictures I took in the Ryerson women's bathroom last night:

Isn't it amazing how malleable language is? Would we have understood some of these terms five or even two years ago? Humanity marches onward, even if there are some determined to drag us back to the Dark Ages. But we won't let them.

Bring on the champagne. Hooray for President Hillary Clinton!

However. If ever there was a time for this poem, it's now, when a monster with a gaze as blank and pitiless as the sun is loose and powerful in the world:

THE SECOND COMING, William Butler Yeats

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

the heat of November

I've made a decision - with two days left to go before the U.S. election, I am going to ignore it completely. My anxiety, which left me sleepless Friday night, will not change the outcome and only makes me miserable. So I'm going to refuse to watch or listen to anything about it. Especially because I expect some Russian-engineered horror to happen any minute - an attack to attempt to make the orange blowhole look presidential. No, stop, see, there it goes again. I will not think about it.

Instead - this glorious weather. Yesterday was so sublime, it was hard to comprehend - November 5th! I'd hired a friend of Anna's to come help me sort out some of the chaos in the house, especially the basement, but when she arrived, I apologized, gave her $20 as a "consulting fee," and asked her to come back in two weeks when the weather is bad. No way I could spend hours in the basement on such a heavenly day. She was pleased, and I took off for a long bike ride, all afternoon, with Jean-Marc and Richard. We went to the Leslie Street Spit, relishing the hot sun, the birds, the view.
Nine swans a'swimming. In November.

Jean-Marc made a delicious dinner and we lay on their bed to watch the new Netflix series, "The Crown," about the early years of Queen Elizabeth II. A beautiful series, especially interesting to watch with Richard, who was once an assistant to the Lieutenant Governor and is now CTV's official royalty expert. He knows the real story and is outraged by the small changes made, I assume for dramatic effect. Only Richard and the people actually involved know or care that this event actually took place at Balmoral not Sandringham, or "The black dress was on the plane, of course! They didn't carry it on for her. Shocking."

The series shows an intelligent, sensitive, vulnerable young woman thrust into public life long before she wanted to be. As usual with these British series, it's beautifully acted, directed and written. We watched two episodes and as they began to watch a third, I went home. Two solid hours was enough. My first Netflix binge watch; now I understand how much fun that is. There will be more - Rogers is apparently soon giving us Netflix for free. It will be a good winter.

P.S. Listening to "Sunday Morning" on CBC radio right now, Michael Enright with esteemed guests discussing ... guess what? THE #@$#@ ELECTION. And I'm riveted.

Sigh.

the KKK, the KGB and the FBI all love Trump

At the end of Bill Maher's unfunny comedy news program last night, during which he used the word "fascist" a number of times to describe the possible government of the U.S. after Tuesday, he apologized for the show's negative rhetoric during past elections and remembered fondly the decent human beings of the former Republican party - the previously reviled Mitt Romney and John McCain now look like kindly and smart if a bit misguided gentlemen. George W. Bush looks like a wise elder statesman. Bring them back. And never did I think I'd be saying those words.

As someone pointed out, this is the first time in history that the KKK, the KGB and the FBI are all backing the same candidate. And that could not be worse news for our planet. It's terrifying. Maher went on about this being a far-right-wing coup, engineered in part by Russia in collusion with the Republican party and the FBI. We've just seen what a careless, blind, anger-driven, media-manipulated vote did in England. And now we have to watch again.

At the beginning of the show, Maher showed a clip of an interview he did with the brilliant, thoughtful President Obama at the White House. It is impossible, truly impossible to believe that the nation which elected that man might now elect a giant orange blowhole. What happened? I know, there will be many books written about it all.

Okay, got to move along or I'll sink into depression about mankind, and that's no place to be on a mild fall weekend. Yes, our incredible autumn sunshine continues to give us record-breaking highs. What country am I living in? There is confusion.

Despite the turmoil south of the border, here it feels as if life has finally settled a bit after weeks of chaos, and I will try to focus on the cheer of that. Yes, wires gone in the garden. Yes, functional washing machine. Yes, working home phone. Yes, at last, as of 8.15 a.m. this morning when Edgar from Rogers - originally from north-eastern China - delivered and installed a new PVR cable box, the television brings in the channels I actually watch, including, for a few free months, the Sundance channel and Book TV, which may be the most boring channel ever, watched only by 17 writers. The fact is that after all that, I will still hardly ever watch. But if I want to, I can, and that's what's important.

What's important today is that my daughter and her boys are winging across the country, off to Saskatoon to visit Anna's best friend Ashley from university days; Ashley lives in Lloydminster and has two kids just a little older. There's a plan: after the long flight and for Ashley's kids the long drive to the airport, they'll spend an hour in the airport itself letting them run, then drive an hour to a McDonald's that has a playland where they'll spend another hour, then the rest of the drive home. They know what they're doing, these moms. I went across town to say hello and goodbye and take them to their favourite sushi restaurant. Ben is now walking non-stop; he walked almost the whole way home, crazily, like a drunk, veering as often as possible into the road, while Eli zoomed up every wall and across everyone else's front lawns. Could I love them more? Guess.
And here, after all the ugliness and horror of the news cycle, is a shot taken just up the street - O Canada. I'm so glad to live here.

clean at last

As you all know, I am a simple woman with simple needs. And right now, here's what is simply making me happy: there is a working washing machine in my basement which just washed two large baskets of laundry; my new Macca CD is playing in the kitchen and a large piece of peanut butter on raisin sourdough toast sits beside me. I found out by mail that I do not have colon cancer this year. Yay!

Hallowe'en was its usual extraordinary event in my neighbourhood - hundreds of children and so many houses decorated, ghosts, goblins, gravestones and giant spiders everywhere. After teaching, I went to Jean-Marc and Richard's for a grown-up Hallowe'en party, homemade pizzas, wine and many interesting people, all of whom live within a five house radius. Wonderful.
My neighbour Monique getting ready for the hordes.

So. She's feelin' good. Tho' not so good this morning, a tiny bit hungover. And my new phone sort of works and sort of does not, along with most other things in this house, including me. I have been so immersed in wires, washers, technological decisions, teaching, So True et al, I have not done any writing work for ages, both body and mind disintegrating. Time to get going again. The weather helps - it's glorious out there, incredible for November. For another week, they say. Please. Before reality hits.

The CD attributes a surprising number of the songs to both Paul and Linda McCartney. It's too bad one of my fave songs, "I'm Carrying," isn't on it. Imagine, 67 beautiful, very different songs, and there are still lots more out there. Here's "Early Days," a song about his boyhood friendship with John, his voice rough and old, and brave.

Okay, I'm faithful to my earliest loves, Paul and peanut butter, and really REALLY boring.

Today I heard from a dear friend who is featured in my new memoir. I gave it to her to read. What would I have done if she'd hated the way she was portrayed, when she's in so much of the book? It would have been difficult. But luckily, it seems, she did not. It's one of the difficulties of memoir - that we are writing not just about ourselves, but the people in our lives, whether they like it or not. It is a beautiful piece of writing and one of the most interesting bits of writing on l’Arche I have ever read. Very moving in that it rings so true. I enjoyed reading it immensely. 

This, too, is the sweetest music to my ears. I wonder if Paul could write it into a song.
"And your inspiration, long may it last, may it come to you, time and time again," he sings.

So True true true

Happy Hallowe'en! The weather could not be better for the kids - mild and sunny, amazing, and due to last all week. I myself will not be celebrating - I teach tonight, and in any case, I'm not into this festival. Anyone who has dressed in someone else's clothing for a living doesn't much enjoy doing so for fun. But it's wonderful to see all the costumes on the streets of Toronto today.
A bit dark - but this is Eli with the shield as Captain America - sigh - his friends as Spiderman and some other superhero, and Ben's first Hallowe'en - as a skunk. 
So True, the reading series, yesterday - a great success by all accounts. About 65 audience members, plus 8 fantastic readers, Jason the superb M.C. and me, in the warm space of the Black Swan second floor, telling and hearing the important truths of life on planet earth. One woman came up to me beforehand, said I didn't know her but she loves these events, they make her laugh and cry and feel less alone. How great is that? I'm always beyond exhausted by the end - producing the event itself, encouraging the readers who feel like my children by that point, and then my own talk and reading - it leaves me drained but exhilarated by the response. Onward. The next, on Feb. 26, 2017, is our tenth, and we'll do something special, though not sure what yet.
On the way there, I stopped at Mike's Music on the Danforth, one of the few independent music stores left and a fabulous place, because he had special-ordered for me a great treat: the Macca compilation. FOUR CD'S of Macca's best. Heaven. Anna and Eli visited yesterday morning. Eli told me about the two girls from school he's going to marry. I read him "Alexander and the terrible horrible no-good very bad day," and at the end he said my favourite words: "Read it again." I understand Alexander, having had a few of those days recently myself.  Spent this morning on the line with my new BFF, Rogers. Ha. Am getting my new phone line set up, maybe. My new TV channels configured, maybe. Don't hold your breath.
Most importantly - the American election lumbers along on its excruciating path. Curse the FBI and its shocking miscarriage of justice. The world is at the brink. Let us pray. 
And finally - here's a great review of the new/old place Sam is working: Harry's. Inexpensive, unpretentious, lots of fun.http://www.blogto.com/restaurants/harrys-toronto

The Beatles 50 T.O. exhibit

The city of Toronto has produced a whimsical exhibition: The Beatles 50 T.O., upstairs at St. Lawrence Market, in honour of the fact that the group visited Toronto six times, more often than anywhere else on this side of the pond, the last time 50 years ago. I went this afternoon to see it - lots of artifacts from Beatles' visits, fabulous photographs and slides, and a hilarious recreation of a Sixties rec room in Don Mills:
My friend Piers Hemmingsen, who knows every arcane fact about the Beatles in Canada and has written a vast tome about this very subject, took a large crowd on a tour around the room. I met the curator Jane French, who provided a lot of the actual stuff from her family home, and the Globe critic Deirdre Kelly, another Beatle nut, who knew? I left flyers for my book, in the hope that hordes of fans would seize them and be desperate to read this fine book. Sigh.

It occurred to me, not for the first time, looking at the shots of the screaming girls, the almost terrifying evocation of hysterical passion, that Beatlemania was perhaps the first time in history that female erotic energy was unleashed to this extent. When else had young girls made such an impact, sexually, financially, socially? I wonder if Beatlemania helped push feminism to the forefront - it emerged in full force only a few years later. We already know that Beatles music helped to tear down Communism, as so many young people behind the Iron Curtain were desperate for western music and broke rules to get it. Perhaps those four young men caused more than one worldwide revolution. What do you think?

As I listen to Randy Bachman, it's 8.30 p.m. on October 29th and my back door is wide open to the winds. Long may it last.

defeating Rogers, maybe, and brava to Madeleine Thien

Now, this is the definition of a friend: someone who is willing to spend TWO SOLID HOURS  on the phone with Rogers to help sort out a dizzy friend's cable, cell phone, home phone and internet needs. Yes - last night, friend Lynn - another Lynn, now known as Lin Lin, came here for dinner. She is an extremely efficient and capable person, and when she heard my tale of woe - I'd just spent another frustrating hour on the phone with Rogers and with Bell, trying to sort things out - she said, Let's fix it now, whipped out her phone, and we were off to the races.

It was a learning experience to watch Lin Lin patiently get the representatives to explain the incredibly confusing bundles - if you get this, you don't get this, if you save on this, you might have to pay that, on and on and on. I would have given up after ten minutes; in fact, the reason I was in that mess is because I DID give up after ten minutes, every time. It's so boring and convoluted - and of course, designed to be just that. Lin Lin pointed out to the customer service reps that I was paying for far more cell phone than I needed, that a much cheaper home phone option existed that no one had told me about, that I was paying an exorbitant fee for channels I never watch. We had very good service - a man called Ceta or Seta and then in the fabulous Retention department, Kelly in Ottawa. The best.

And now, if all goes well - and I fully expect it NOT to - I will pay $100 less a month for a service tailored to my specific needs. And if that's not a friend, I don't know what is. In return, I gave her dinner, a bottle of my homemade salad dressing, and a bunch of my just-dug-up garlic with dirt clinging to the roots. I owe her a great deal more.

It's 18 degrees! Fantastic out there - a last gasp of mildness before doom and winter. And the @#$# U.S. election. I do not want to hear the words "Hillary's email" ever again, please God, give us a break and save the planet, let this pass quickly by. Listening to Trump crow makes me want to jump off a bridge.

Meant to say before: congratulations to Madeleine Thien for winning the Governor General's award for her novel "Do not say we have nothing." I met Maddy at a UBC Creative Writing department event where alumnae, including Maddie and I, were invited to speak about the writing life; I liked and admired her instantly. She radiates an intense and enviable calm and focus. Watching her, I was reminded of another acquaintance - the actor Ian Charleson, later one of the stars of "Chariots of Fire" and other movies and plays, whom I met at theatre school in 1971. We could all tell he was the real deal - a superstar, an enormous innate talent. Nothing show-offy about him, just the blazing glow of brilliance. Maddy, in a similarly quiet way, has that too.

While the rest of us are just trying to get our cable TV's to work. Luckily, to cheer us up, there's this:

the Economist loves Canada

The esteemed Economist has written an article about the great success that is Canada. Not perfect, as the article points out, far from it - but tolerant, courageous and measured in a way now enviable to the rest of the world, our sister countries dealing with the frightening spectres of Trump and Marine LePen. Hooray Canada which elected Justin Trudeau, who is still spectacularly high in the polls, and as far as I'm concerned, deserves to be. Another mind-boggling change the other day - appointing nine non-partisan people to the Senate, citizens who are simply smart, knowledgeable and engaged. Imagine that! As I said - mind-boggling.

http://www.economist.com/news/leaders/21709305-it-uniquely-fortunate-many-waysbut-canada-still-holds-lessons-other-western

It's a beautiful day - perhaps you can tell I'm in a better mood. Still no washing machine - now they tell me next Tuesday. I will not hold my breath. The pile of laundry grows. Still no TCM on my Rogers cable, which requires another tedious phone call. But the sun is shining. My garden helper Dan came this morning and we ripped up impatiens, culled the rest of the little tomatoes to ripen inside, washed and pruned the outdoor plants to bring them in - and now it's warm enough to leave them out! Confusing, as fall in this wonderful country always is.

Last night, the rehearsal for the next So True reading event, on Sunday. How proud I am of the eight readers - beautiful stories, beautifully read - and our spectacular host Jason Allen. Tonight, dinner with a dear friend from lo these many years. Tomorrow at 2, my friend Piers Hemmingsen is speaking at the Beatles exhibit at St. Lawrence Market. I'll be there. And right now, I'm going to tackle page one of the Moonlight Sonata.

I thank you god for most this amazing day.

PS My good mood did not last. Spent almost an hour on the phone with Rogers and then almost as much time with Bell - so @#$#@ confusing, and nothing resolved! Then I got a confusing Enbridge bill that makes no sense. My face is more blotchy than ever, with frustration. Time to move to a desert island.