Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 167
July 27, 2016
The Democrats and show biz
A friend today quoted Margaret McMillan, the famed Canadian historian, as saying the world is in the same kind of upheaval now as it was in the years before the first world war. Now that's the kind of heartening observation that makes you glad to be alive. As in - let's enjoy today, because who knows about tomorrow? With a Trump-Putin alliance, anything is possible, and none of it will be good.
But on the other hand, we have the Dems, preaching love and kindness in Philadelphia, bless their little furry heads. Last night the Big Dog, ex-Pres. Bill, spoke with warmth and eloquence about his wife, though we all wondered if he'd make even a joking reference to his crimes and misdemeanours. He did not. The Dems are phenomenal at showbiz, it turns out - the event is stage-managed and orchestrated brilliantly, famous people coming and going, glorious speeches, stunning film clips, musicians - Alicia Keyes, fabulous if invisible beneath her tangled hair - the audience holding a constantly shifting barrage of signs. Well - artists are almost entirely Democrat and are on board. Apparently Hollywood's J. J. Abrams made one of the little films.
What does it all add up to? A good op-ed in the Star today points out that though to Canadians it looks like meaningless, flashy hucksterism, what these huge conventions mean is engagement in the political process. All those faces we see on screen, weeping and shouting - those are people who care about their government and are involved. And that's a good thing. Maybe we need a bit more show biz here in Canada.
It's incredibly hot here - with humidity, 37 degrees. I spent the morning huddled in a library with baby Ben, taking care of him while his mother had a doctor's appointment. He tried to pull every book off the shelf and made too much noise for a library, but it was blessedly cool. I think he is not going to be a sitting still and reading kind of guy. He likes to MOVE. Tonight, I'd like to go to a nice cool movie but I think I'm stuck, once again, with the Democrat show. Barack, give us some of that hopey changey stuff, please.
But on the other hand, we have the Dems, preaching love and kindness in Philadelphia, bless their little furry heads. Last night the Big Dog, ex-Pres. Bill, spoke with warmth and eloquence about his wife, though we all wondered if he'd make even a joking reference to his crimes and misdemeanours. He did not. The Dems are phenomenal at showbiz, it turns out - the event is stage-managed and orchestrated brilliantly, famous people coming and going, glorious speeches, stunning film clips, musicians - Alicia Keyes, fabulous if invisible beneath her tangled hair - the audience holding a constantly shifting barrage of signs. Well - artists are almost entirely Democrat and are on board. Apparently Hollywood's J. J. Abrams made one of the little films.
What does it all add up to? A good op-ed in the Star today points out that though to Canadians it looks like meaningless, flashy hucksterism, what these huge conventions mean is engagement in the political process. All those faces we see on screen, weeping and shouting - those are people who care about their government and are involved. And that's a good thing. Maybe we need a bit more show biz here in Canada.
It's incredibly hot here - with humidity, 37 degrees. I spent the morning huddled in a library with baby Ben, taking care of him while his mother had a doctor's appointment. He tried to pull every book off the shelf and made too much noise for a library, but it was blessedly cool. I think he is not going to be a sitting still and reading kind of guy. He likes to MOVE. Tonight, I'd like to go to a nice cool movie but I think I'm stuck, once again, with the Democrat show. Barack, give us some of that hopey changey stuff, please.
July 26, 2016
Michelle Obama for President
It was a scary start to the Dem convention last night, with disgruntled Sanders people shouting their anger and booing Hillary's name. I was distraught at the thought of the Democratic Party disintegrating before our eyes, blowing itself apart just when it's needed most.
And then Michelle Obama spoke. One of those thrilling moments when you watch history being made, right in front of you.
I never tweet. But I logged into Twitter as she spoke and wrote, "Michelle Obama for President!" Many were expressing the same sentiment. What a magnificent, wise, compassionate, brilliant woman. What a speech, that lifted the whole squabbling mess into the stratosphere.
Elizabeth Warren did a great job, as did others. And then Bernie Sanders spoke, and my admiration for him quadrupled. He has done the absolutely right thing in wholeheartedly endorsing the candidate who can and must beat Trump.
It's like two different planets - the small bit I saw of the Republican convention, the fearmongering, the darkness of their vision of America and the world, speaking about guns and banning abortions, the virulence of their hatred of Hillary and any kind of government. And then the Dems, speaking about social justice, education, health care, infrastructure, women's right to choose. Not sinking to their level, as Michelle said. Do these red/blue people even live in the same country?
And if I may be disgruntled myself, a word about the Greens, who wanted Sanders to head their party and are apparently courting his angry voters - who are these blind idiots who want to splinter the vote on the left? Remember Ralph Nader - we had the Iraq war thanks to his misguided and selfish ideals. And also, it does piss me off that the Americans go on and on about a woman being nominated, historic, groundbreaking, without a single reference to the many, MANY other countries where women are or have been heads of state. Unless it happens in Amurrica, it doesn't register.
Tonight, more of the same. I'll watch as much as I can stand. Still very hot out there; in here, the fate of the world hangs in the balance. And more loathsome lunatics killing the innocent - a priest, in a French church. Unbearable. It does feel as if some vile anarchic and violent force has been released in the world, unleashing Trump, Marine LePen, Isil, Brexit and more. Is the rough beast upon us, at last?
THE SECOND COMING
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?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
And then Michelle Obama spoke. One of those thrilling moments when you watch history being made, right in front of you.
I never tweet. But I logged into Twitter as she spoke and wrote, "Michelle Obama for President!" Many were expressing the same sentiment. What a magnificent, wise, compassionate, brilliant woman. What a speech, that lifted the whole squabbling mess into the stratosphere.
Elizabeth Warren did a great job, as did others. And then Bernie Sanders spoke, and my admiration for him quadrupled. He has done the absolutely right thing in wholeheartedly endorsing the candidate who can and must beat Trump.
It's like two different planets - the small bit I saw of the Republican convention, the fearmongering, the darkness of their vision of America and the world, speaking about guns and banning abortions, the virulence of their hatred of Hillary and any kind of government. And then the Dems, speaking about social justice, education, health care, infrastructure, women's right to choose. Not sinking to their level, as Michelle said. Do these red/blue people even live in the same country?
And if I may be disgruntled myself, a word about the Greens, who wanted Sanders to head their party and are apparently courting his angry voters - who are these blind idiots who want to splinter the vote on the left? Remember Ralph Nader - we had the Iraq war thanks to his misguided and selfish ideals. And also, it does piss me off that the Americans go on and on about a woman being nominated, historic, groundbreaking, without a single reference to the many, MANY other countries where women are or have been heads of state. Unless it happens in Amurrica, it doesn't register.
Tonight, more of the same. I'll watch as much as I can stand. Still very hot out there; in here, the fate of the world hangs in the balance. And more loathsome lunatics killing the innocent - a priest, in a French church. Unbearable. It does feel as if some vile anarchic and violent force has been released in the world, unleashing Trump, Marine LePen, Isil, Brexit and more. Is the rough beast upon us, at last?
THE SECOND COMING
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?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
July 25, 2016
Go Democrats.
A full day writing workshop in the garden Sunday - 9 writers, 4 from my classes, 5 complete strangers, gathering in the morning, writing through the day with prompts from me and a very big lunch midday. The day could not have been nicer - after two boiling muggy days, it was mild with some blessed cloud. At the end, we sat on the deck with a glass of wine, eating bread and cheese and talking about our writing, our lives, the day. They stayed an extra hour and by the end, felt like old friends.
And I fell over with fatigue. It's a wonderful event and very tiring. Onward.
I'm watching the Democratic Convention in Philadelphia. Oh these Americans with their jazzy, absurd show biz. But the fate of the world depends on this one.
Chomsky: Today’s Republican Party is a Candidate for Most Dangerous Organization in Human History.
And I fell over with fatigue. It's a wonderful event and very tiring. Onward.
I'm watching the Democratic Convention in Philadelphia. Oh these Americans with their jazzy, absurd show biz. But the fate of the world depends on this one.
Chomsky: Today’s Republican Party is a Candidate for Most Dangerous Organization in Human History.
July 23, 2016
the magnificent Ursula Franklin
It is with great sorrow that I heard about the death on Friday of Ursula Franklin, one of Canada's greatest citizens. Ursula, a scientist and Holocaust survivor, was a dear friend of my parents who were also both heavily involved in the peace movement. She was a brilliant woman of enormous warmth, humanity and humour. A school was founded in her name by the Ontario NDP government in the early 80's and my daughter attended from the first year. The principles were based on social justice - kids wearing uniforms and committed to volunteering. It didn't quite work out that way, but the ideals were wonderful.
Franklin was also active in the Voice of Women (VOW), now the Canadian Voice of Women for Peace, one of Canada's leading social advocacy organizations. In 1968, she and VOW national president Muriel Duckworth presented a brief to a House of Commons committee asserting that Canada and the United States had entered into military trade agreements without adequate public debate. They argued that these commercial arrangements made it difficult for Canada to adopt independent foreign policy positions such as calling for an immediate U.S. military withdrawal from South Vietnam.[19]In 1969, Franklin and Duckworth called on a committee of the Canadian Senate to recommend that Canada discontinue its chemical and biological weapons research and spend money instead on environmental research and preventive medicine.[20] Franklin was also part of a 1969 VOW delegation that urged the federal government to withdraw from the North Atlantic Treaty Organization and establish a special agency to oversee Canadian disarmament.[21]The passage above, from Wikipedia, mentions Muriel Duckworth, another of the extraordinary women this country has produced. I salute and honour these exemplary Canadians, and mourn their loss.
"Peace is not the absence of war—peace is the absence of fear."– Ursula Franklin in The Ursula Franklin Reader.[40]
Franklin was also active in the Voice of Women (VOW), now the Canadian Voice of Women for Peace, one of Canada's leading social advocacy organizations. In 1968, she and VOW national president Muriel Duckworth presented a brief to a House of Commons committee asserting that Canada and the United States had entered into military trade agreements without adequate public debate. They argued that these commercial arrangements made it difficult for Canada to adopt independent foreign policy positions such as calling for an immediate U.S. military withdrawal from South Vietnam.[19]In 1969, Franklin and Duckworth called on a committee of the Canadian Senate to recommend that Canada discontinue its chemical and biological weapons research and spend money instead on environmental research and preventive medicine.[20] Franklin was also part of a 1969 VOW delegation that urged the federal government to withdraw from the North Atlantic Treaty Organization and establish a special agency to oversee Canadian disarmament.[21]The passage above, from Wikipedia, mentions Muriel Duckworth, another of the extraordinary women this country has produced. I salute and honour these exemplary Canadians, and mourn their loss."Peace is not the absence of war—peace is the absence of fear."– Ursula Franklin in The Ursula Franklin Reader.[40]
missing Macca, seeing Yo Yo's "Silk Road"
In all this merriment about celebrations, I need to signal a great loss and sadness: my beloved Macca did a concert in Hamilton, only 60 k. away from my home, on Thursday night, the night I was sitting in my garden surrounded by family and neighbours, drinking Prosecco. When the concert was announced, I had to do an assessment and decided not to go, though among Macca fans, who fly around the world to follow him, that is despicable laziness. A woman was interviewed in Hamilton who has seen him 90 times. Now that's a fan. Including the twice-in-one-day in Paris in June 1965, I have seen him only seven times. I should have been in Hamilton.
But I was in my garden drinking Prosecco. I love you deeply, Sir Paul, but, believe it or not, there are people and things I love even more.
Including documentaries and music, so today I had a special treat, two in one: "The Music of Strangers: Yo Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble," a doc about the multi-cultural Silk Road band brought together by Ma. It's a stunning film - weep-worthy. Yes, the doc has flaws, it's scattered and flits about at great speed. But the core of the film, the power of music to transcend barriers of language and culture, is clear and glorious. We follow four brilliant musicians especially, a Spanish and a Chinese woman, a Syrian and an Iranian man - particularly these four, who have survived revolution and tragedy - and follow them into their homelands and their new lives in America. We explore Yo Yo's life as a child prodigy, his slow coming home to himself. The music is stunning, especially as we get to know the musicians. I could not recommend this film more highly. I wish I'd seen it before going to the Beach Jazz Festival yesterday; I would have paid more attention to who was playing and what they were saying with the music.
Very very hot, incredibly hot. But I'm almost ready. Tomorrow, ten women are coming to spend the whole day writing in my garden, having lunch and writing and writing. Someone in the film quotes T. S. Eliot about the fact that we are all on a journey, and if we're lucky, at the end of the journey we will come back to the place where we started and see it as if for the very first time. That's what we'll go for tomorrow.
A final word re the political horrors we've been watching south of the border:
"The demagogue is one who preaches doctrines he knows to be untrue to men he knows to be idiots." - H L Mencken
And at this stressful time in world affairs, with fascist politicians appearing all over the globe and the head of the Ku Klux Klan running for office, let's not even THINK about this:
Alcohol is a direct cause of seven forms of cancer, finds study. PHOOEY!
But I was in my garden drinking Prosecco. I love you deeply, Sir Paul, but, believe it or not, there are people and things I love even more.
Including documentaries and music, so today I had a special treat, two in one: "The Music of Strangers: Yo Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble," a doc about the multi-cultural Silk Road band brought together by Ma. It's a stunning film - weep-worthy. Yes, the doc has flaws, it's scattered and flits about at great speed. But the core of the film, the power of music to transcend barriers of language and culture, is clear and glorious. We follow four brilliant musicians especially, a Spanish and a Chinese woman, a Syrian and an Iranian man - particularly these four, who have survived revolution and tragedy - and follow them into their homelands and their new lives in America. We explore Yo Yo's life as a child prodigy, his slow coming home to himself. The music is stunning, especially as we get to know the musicians. I could not recommend this film more highly. I wish I'd seen it before going to the Beach Jazz Festival yesterday; I would have paid more attention to who was playing and what they were saying with the music.
Very very hot, incredibly hot. But I'm almost ready. Tomorrow, ten women are coming to spend the whole day writing in my garden, having lunch and writing and writing. Someone in the film quotes T. S. Eliot about the fact that we are all on a journey, and if we're lucky, at the end of the journey we will come back to the place where we started and see it as if for the very first time. That's what we'll go for tomorrow.
A final word re the political horrors we've been watching south of the border:
"The demagogue is one who preaches doctrines he knows to be untrue to men he knows to be idiots." - H L Mencken
And at this stressful time in world affairs, with fascist politicians appearing all over the globe and the head of the Ku Klux Klan running for office, let's not even THINK about this:
Alcohol is a direct cause of seven forms of cancer, finds study. PHOOEY!
music and roses
A few more from Thursday:
Show offs.
Before the party - we've never managed to sit a large group down in the garden before. Thanks to Jean-Marc and Richard's portable table, we did. And the rose of Sharon bloomed just in time.
Oh I slaved over these cakes! Or someone at Daniel and Daniel did. One was mango mousse and the other - be still my beating heart - dark chocolate and peanut butter. Despite what is happening in the world, life is good.
Yesterday, to the Beach for Anne-Marie and Jim's annual party - we have dinner in their Beach home and then out to Queen Street, just outside their front door, to enjoy the Jazz Festival. What a fabulous event - the street packed with people and musicians, bands of all kinds carefully spaced the length of the street so you can wander from one to the next, each playing a short set and then another starting up. We heard retro rock, hot jazz and big band music, blues, country rock, salsa, Jamaican steel band, a wonderful Australian two man band with an electric didgeridoo - everything. Well, not rap or whatever they're listening to now, didn't hear that, or maybe I just tuned it out, old fart that I am. There was tons of street food on sale, including fresh oysters. A riotous yet peaceful celebration of music many blocks long near the lake - I love Toronto!
Show offs.
Before the party - we've never managed to sit a large group down in the garden before. Thanks to Jean-Marc and Richard's portable table, we did. And the rose of Sharon bloomed just in time.
Oh I slaved over these cakes! Or someone at Daniel and Daniel did. One was mango mousse and the other - be still my beating heart - dark chocolate and peanut butter. Despite what is happening in the world, life is good.Yesterday, to the Beach for Anne-Marie and Jim's annual party - we have dinner in their Beach home and then out to Queen Street, just outside their front door, to enjoy the Jazz Festival. What a fabulous event - the street packed with people and musicians, bands of all kinds carefully spaced the length of the street so you can wander from one to the next, each playing a short set and then another starting up. We heard retro rock, hot jazz and big band music, blues, country rock, salsa, Jamaican steel band, a wonderful Australian two man band with an electric didgeridoo - everything. Well, not rap or whatever they're listening to now, didn't hear that, or maybe I just tuned it out, old fart that I am. There was tons of street food on sale, including fresh oysters. A riotous yet peaceful celebration of music many blocks long near the lake - I love Toronto!
July 22, 2016
garden party
Barely moving this morning, but happy. We celebrated neighbourhood in style. And then after everyone left, unfortunately my son turned on the television and there he was, the giant orange blowhole, Casino Mussolini, as Sam Bee calls him. But let's not think about that for now, please. There are leftovers to consider.
July 21, 2016
gimme shelter
Last night I went comedian-skipping - from Samantha Bee to the Daily Show's Trevor Noah and then the best of all, Bill Maher. Comedians are having a grand time putting on special shows about the Republican Convention, though in truth, it's not funny at all, not at all. The level of hatred, the brazen stupidity on display - not not not funny. Bill had three great commentators including Michael Moore, as always speaking for the heartland, who said, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Trump will win. He speaks their language." Another speaker commented that Trump has never read a book. Hello, said Moore, most of America has not read a book either. He's their guy.
But surely Americans do not want to elect an ignorant man who has not read a book to run their country.
Hello, said Moore - G. W. Bush, Nixon, Reagan?
Then one final speaker, Tony Schwartz, the ghostwriter for Trump's "Art of the Deal" who has decided to speak the truth about the man. He spent 18 months tailing Trump for the book and says he's the clinical definition of a sociopath who cares about nothing but himself. If he wins, says Schwartz, it's the end of civilization as we know it.
Hideous, horrifying, depressing. The state of America highlights two things in particular, I think - the abasement of the American education system and the incredibly destructive power of Fox News. The level of ignorance on display at the convention is beyond belief, and what these ignorant people are saying - Obama is a Muslim who wants to destroy America etc. - comes directly from their TV screen.
Okay, enough about that - I am making a big "This is a Trump-free zone" to put on my door. Tonight, around 16 neighbours, friends and family are coming for dinner, to help me and the kids celebrate 30 years in this house. It was three decades ago that my then-husband and I were taken by a colleague of his to see this Cabbagetown house, which had been on the market for months because no one wanted it. "It's too dark," I said, "too narrow, Cabbagetown is not a good place for kids."
"But it has lots of potential," said my husband, "and I think we can get it for exactly what we can afford." Which was $180,000, a fortune to us. And in one of the wisest decisions of my life, we went ahead. The house has been a disaster in many ways, especially in the early days - floods in the basement of both water and shit, leaking roofs and skylights, termites, break-ins, you name it, it's happened here. But this solid house, built in 1887, withstood the fire of 2005 and was rebuilt better than ever. And it's now a great source of joy, not just to me, but to my kids and grandchildren and all my friends and houseguests and tenants.
So - we are making salads and Sam will be barbecuing and we will toast with great love our home, which has sheltered us for 30 years. If Trump is elected, all my American family members can come and shelter here too.
But surely Americans do not want to elect an ignorant man who has not read a book to run their country.
Hello, said Moore - G. W. Bush, Nixon, Reagan?
Then one final speaker, Tony Schwartz, the ghostwriter for Trump's "Art of the Deal" who has decided to speak the truth about the man. He spent 18 months tailing Trump for the book and says he's the clinical definition of a sociopath who cares about nothing but himself. If he wins, says Schwartz, it's the end of civilization as we know it.
Hideous, horrifying, depressing. The state of America highlights two things in particular, I think - the abasement of the American education system and the incredibly destructive power of Fox News. The level of ignorance on display at the convention is beyond belief, and what these ignorant people are saying - Obama is a Muslim who wants to destroy America etc. - comes directly from their TV screen.
Okay, enough about that - I am making a big "This is a Trump-free zone" to put on my door. Tonight, around 16 neighbours, friends and family are coming for dinner, to help me and the kids celebrate 30 years in this house. It was three decades ago that my then-husband and I were taken by a colleague of his to see this Cabbagetown house, which had been on the market for months because no one wanted it. "It's too dark," I said, "too narrow, Cabbagetown is not a good place for kids."
"But it has lots of potential," said my husband, "and I think we can get it for exactly what we can afford." Which was $180,000, a fortune to us. And in one of the wisest decisions of my life, we went ahead. The house has been a disaster in many ways, especially in the early days - floods in the basement of both water and shit, leaking roofs and skylights, termites, break-ins, you name it, it's happened here. But this solid house, built in 1887, withstood the fire of 2005 and was rebuilt better than ever. And it's now a great source of joy, not just to me, but to my kids and grandchildren and all my friends and houseguests and tenants.
So - we are making salads and Sam will be barbecuing and we will toast with great love our home, which has sheltered us for 30 years. If Trump is elected, all my American family members can come and shelter here too.
July 19, 2016
benign is the right word
Okay, I do not live in a permanent state of rapture; sometimes the world gets me down. The Republican convention is getting me down. Just the thought of a man that vile being granted power and prestige is enough to make me vomit, let alone the whole Republican platform - a cavalcade of racist stupidity - and everyone there. Who are those people? I know, I asked that when Rob Ford was elected, and yet there he was, for years. Scared angry white people dreaming of a mythical past.
And then the murders continue, and what's happening in Turkey ...
But also, I am just back from the beautiful new Women's College Hospital, where my left breast came in for some serious consideration - two mammograms and then an ultrasound. The technician went to show the pictures to the radiologist, who then appeared herself to take a closer look. That was when I got a tiny bit scared. She explained that there's something, probably a benign cyst but they want to keep an eye on it, I'll be called back in six months.
So - no news is sort of good news, but I did leave feeling immensely vulnerable. So many little bits, inside and out, to go wrong. I remember my father, dying of cancer at 65, saying, "I don't regret anything, I've been blessed."
Me too.
Perhaps I should just not read the newspaper this week.
Time to water the garden.
And then the murders continue, and what's happening in Turkey ...
But also, I am just back from the beautiful new Women's College Hospital, where my left breast came in for some serious consideration - two mammograms and then an ultrasound. The technician went to show the pictures to the radiologist, who then appeared herself to take a closer look. That was when I got a tiny bit scared. She explained that there's something, probably a benign cyst but they want to keep an eye on it, I'll be called back in six months.
So - no news is sort of good news, but I did leave feeling immensely vulnerable. So many little bits, inside and out, to go wrong. I remember my father, dying of cancer at 65, saying, "I don't regret anything, I've been blessed."
Me too.
Perhaps I should just not read the newspaper this week.
Time to water the garden.
July 17, 2016
a little Captain Fantastic and a big one
This morning was as beautiful a morning as I have ever known - so tranquil, I could have been in some mountain glade, only I was in Cabbagetown, Toronto. The noise of the Indy cars did not reach this far this year - maybe the wind? And everyone is out of town, it seems, or catatonic, because there was just no noise. It was sublime.
Midday I rode across town on the new waterfront trail, 50 minutes door to door from my house in the east end to Anna's in the far west, and as I approached her place, the noise grew deafening. It was indeed the Indy, angry angry insects buzzing, and drawing closer, I was riding right beside it; I could see those cars whizzing by at hundreds of miles an hour. Terrifying and very, very loud - the sound of testosterone rampant.
But I had a first birthday party to get to. I went first to Scooter Girl on Roncesvales to pick up the balloons
and then kept an eye on the kids while Anna finished prep for the party. Because she's Anna, she also had two of Thomas's sisters' kids for the weekend, as if getting ready for a big party were not enough. But that's who she is and what she does. The place was all set, lots of water, a big plastic pool in the back with a slide that went into it, so the kids were already happy and wet when I arrived - and then the others came. Eventually, there were eleven children and lots of adults, and she fed them all.
Jen gave Ben a Blue Jays shirt
The assembled multitudes with cupcakes
The birthday boy, having a terrible time with his.
And then I rode back, past the incredible noise and speed that took my breath away, back to my quiet little spot in the woods, or so it seems.
Yesterday, I saw a movie that affected me deeply - "Captain Fantastic," Viggo Mortensen as an anarchist hippy father raising six kids in the isolated woods of northern California. After a family tragedy they are forced out into the world, where his brilliant feral anarchist children confront western society for the first time. It's a wonderful premise, too bad the writer didn't take it much further; he also directed the movie and obviously fell in love with his cast, it gets all dewy at the end. But still, it's an interesting film, much food for thought about how to raise children in this insane world. At one point on their road trip, they are forced to go to a fast food restaurant and the kids are thrilled - their first taste of hotdogs and hamburgers. But Viggo takes a look at the menu and says, "There's no food on this menu. Let's go," and drags them all out. The kids exclaim about how fat everyone is, and then one says, "But we must not make fun of people, ever."
"Except for Christians," says another, and they all nod. That made me laugh out loud. And then they celebrate Noam Chomsky Day and sing him a song.
Plus Viggo himself - worth a look, always.
Happy summer, my friends. It doesn't get better than this. And happy first birthday to beautiful Ben.
Midday I rode across town on the new waterfront trail, 50 minutes door to door from my house in the east end to Anna's in the far west, and as I approached her place, the noise grew deafening. It was indeed the Indy, angry angry insects buzzing, and drawing closer, I was riding right beside it; I could see those cars whizzing by at hundreds of miles an hour. Terrifying and very, very loud - the sound of testosterone rampant.
But I had a first birthday party to get to. I went first to Scooter Girl on Roncesvales to pick up the balloons
and then kept an eye on the kids while Anna finished prep for the party. Because she's Anna, she also had two of Thomas's sisters' kids for the weekend, as if getting ready for a big party were not enough. But that's who she is and what she does. The place was all set, lots of water, a big plastic pool in the back with a slide that went into it, so the kids were already happy and wet when I arrived - and then the others came. Eventually, there were eleven children and lots of adults, and she fed them all.
Jen gave Ben a Blue Jays shirt
The assembled multitudes with cupcakes
The birthday boy, having a terrible time with his.And then I rode back, past the incredible noise and speed that took my breath away, back to my quiet little spot in the woods, or so it seems.
Yesterday, I saw a movie that affected me deeply - "Captain Fantastic," Viggo Mortensen as an anarchist hippy father raising six kids in the isolated woods of northern California. After a family tragedy they are forced out into the world, where his brilliant feral anarchist children confront western society for the first time. It's a wonderful premise, too bad the writer didn't take it much further; he also directed the movie and obviously fell in love with his cast, it gets all dewy at the end. But still, it's an interesting film, much food for thought about how to raise children in this insane world. At one point on their road trip, they are forced to go to a fast food restaurant and the kids are thrilled - their first taste of hotdogs and hamburgers. But Viggo takes a look at the menu and says, "There's no food on this menu. Let's go," and drags them all out. The kids exclaim about how fat everyone is, and then one says, "But we must not make fun of people, ever."
"Except for Christians," says another, and they all nod. That made me laugh out loud. And then they celebrate Noam Chomsky Day and sing him a song.
Plus Viggo himself - worth a look, always.
Happy summer, my friends. It doesn't get better than this. And happy first birthday to beautiful Ben.
