Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 181

hooray for Michael Coren

My friend Richard just sent me a link to an article by Michael Coren. I've written about him before - previously an intolerant, right-wing blowhard, and now - well, here is my note to him, after reading this heartening article:http://torontoist.com/2016/02/371759/
Michael, your conversion was so startling and so spectacular, I thought you must have a family member, one of your children or a sibling or at the very least a very close friend who came out to you and forced you to see the brutal intolerance of your and the church’s position. The fact that it was simply human decency that brought you around brings much hope. It reminds me of the extraordinary story of the young women who left the Westboro Baptist Church. 

Let us hope many more follow your path to tolerance, openness and kindness.
He sent back his thanks and spoke about the hate mail he and his family have received. Horrifying.
On a happier note, here, for your viewing pleasure, the children of Downton, twin Georges and a Sibby: Such heaven on Sunday, the best show yet, exquisite, so rich and full and glorious. Yes, no question, Julian Fellowes is rushing to tie up all the story arcs; for Mary to get married so quickly after holding out for most of the series - hmmm. Her rejected beau just happened to have the license and she just happened to have an ivory wedding-type dress in her tiny wardrobe? No matter. And what we had foreseen for Barrow came to pass, no surprise there. 
But all of it is just so much fun, so beautifully done. The classroom scenes - only a few minutes, yet every detail, even the children's faces, not to mention desks, costumes, props - perfect. Delicious.
Last night I watched Samantha Bee's new show, Full Frontal, for the second time. Sometimes on the Daily Show, Sam was a bit silly and profane, but I love her solo show, full of heart and courage. She actually went to a refugee camp in Jordan and manages to make us and the refugees laugh, even while making powerful points about the injustice of what's happening in the world. Brava, Sam. 
And the winter continues pretty mild. No complaints here.

"Betroffenheit" and justice on Vinyl Tap

I gather from friends who've emailed and sent messages via Twitter and FB that a letter I wrote to Randy Bachman was read during his Vinyl Tap show last night. I was out at a party but will listen tonight when the show airs again. In a show last fall, Randy talked about the Beatles as "John Lennon's band," and I could not let that pass. So I wrote to respectfully disagree, that it was the perfect balance of Macca and Lennon that made the band what it was, and apparently Randy, after reading my letter on air, said that he agreed. Yay! One more strike for justice in our land.

I have just come back from seeing a great work of art, and I don't say that lightly, just as I do not often jump to my feet applauding wildly. But today I did. Betroffenheit is breathtaking. From the Globe review: 
Betroffenheit is a German word that doesn’t translate well. It means a sort of confluence of shock, speechlessness, emotional stasis and confusion. This sense of ineffability is at the crux of the play, which centres on a man (Young) in the grips of PTSD. He’s tortured by the memory of a horrific accident, reeling with loss, drowning in guilt. We’re catapulted into the disorder of his thoughts and feelings, which find external articulation in electronic sound, light, shadow and text.One of the key refrains is the protagonist’s attempt to “come to terms” with the tragedy, and the play brilliantly interrogates the illusoriness and desperation of this pursuit. How can you come to something that exists in the past? What terms can possibly mitigate disaster?The author and star of the play, Jonathon Young, lost his daughter and two of her cousins in a cabin fire; he was asleep nearby. The play, in a mixture of words and dance, explores shock and grief, drug addiction and guilt and at the end, with a slight lift, the music moving for once to a major chord, the dancer almost a kind of lightness, it offers for the first time a sense of hope. The dancing is extraordinary, five of the best dancers I've ever seen anywhere, the choreography by Crystal Pite brilliant. Stunning stunning stunning.
Emotionally intense and unsettling as it often is, this gripping and visually arresting production exemplifies what can happen when theatre and dance combine to achieve what neither could accomplish alone. And, given its provenance in the personal tragedy that changed Jonathon Young’s life forever, it stands as a testament to the redemptive power of art.

the Abigail Thomas Fan Club

It's a glorious day, warmish and bright; I am sitting outside right now to write - February, where are you? This morning I went for a walk on the Don Valley Trail, and on the way back, passed a mother with her two children, a daughter of about 12 and a son of about 9. "Mum! Mum! Look at this!" the boy cried, and when I turned around, he was showing her something on the ground. They were holding hands.

I was overwhelmed, for a brief moment. Once upon a time, that was me, with a 12 year old daughter and a 9 year old son. It was a terrible time in my life, newly divorced, terrified, exhausted, overwhelmed. But somehow, we got through. I visited that daughter yesterday, spent the afternoon with her and Eli's dad Thomas and the boys - those shining boys. Today, she has a special treat - a friend who works for Porter is flying her to Montreal for the day, while her sons spend the day with Thomas and her best friend Holly. "All I want to do is eat smoked meat at Schwartz's," she said, though I'm sure there will be lots of other things to do. Her appetite for life, and, yes, for smoked meat, is immense. She is a generous, capable, strong, contented woman, and her children reflect that.

We got through.

 His skunk bicycle "hemoot"

I have fallen in love with a writer - Abigail Thomas, author of the memoirs "Three Dog Life" and the newer one "What happens next and how to like it," which I have from the library. Her voice is instantly compelling, breathtakingly honest, funny, rueful. You are at her kitchen table as the ups and downs hit her. "Three Dog Life" was voted one of the best books of 2006, and yet when I went to Indigo to buy it - must own this book and the new one too - it was unavailable.  For a moment, I thought - what's the point, if a book of this calibre falls off the radar, why am I bothering to write anything at all? But I got over that, went home and ordered some of her other books from the library, will buy a bunch of them from Amazon, and was cheered to find out that "Life" may be made into a movie. So her day will come. Whether she likes it or not.

And now - as I sit here in a t-shirt marvelling at the sun - more pleasures in store on this Sunday. I will ride my bike to see the dance theatre piece Betroffenheit, which has had rave reviews around the world, and tonight, Wayson is coming with Chinese food and we'll watch the penultimate Downton.

This describes just how I feel.

Doonesbury nails it as usual

"the unicorn platform"

I've always blamed Ronald Reagan (and to a slightly lesser degree Margaret Thatcher) for the rightward slide of our world; under their leadership, taxes became the bad word of the century instead of a necessary evil of a fair and just society, and the huge rise in income inequality began. Recently, arguing with a wealthy friend, I heard it all again: I'd gladly pay taxes, he said, if I knew my money was being well spent instead of squandered. That's been the tax avoiding excuse of the rich for decades.

Well, here's the renowned Thomas Piketty in Le Monde, no less, making it all clear. It's not a long article, but it explains what Bernie Sanders really means - the first ray of light in the benighted American system since Reagan slashed taxes and the minimum wage, inviting the rich to get criminally richer and shoving the whole planet far to the right. Son of a bitch.
http://www.theguardian.com/us-news/commentisfree/2016/feb/16/thomas-piketty-bernie-sanders-us-election-2016?utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=GU+Today+main+NEW+H&utm_term=157136&subid=11377998&CMP=EMCNEWEML6619I2

Though as Paul Krugman stated recently in the NYT:
Even the incremental changes Hillary Clinton is proposing are very unlikely to get through Congress; the radical changes Bernie Sanders is proposing wouldn’t happen even if Democrats retook the House. O’Brien says that the Democratic primary is “like arguing what’s more real: a magical unicorn or a regular unicorn. In either case, you’re still running on a unicorn platform.” 

Sigh.

Thanks to Kerry Clare whose blog of Pickle Me This is on the left, I discovered Laura Vanderkam, a time management guru. She suggests keeping track of your hours to see what actually fills the 168 hours in your week. So I downloaded the "168 Hour time management spreadsheet" from her website and will try to fill it in this week, in 15 minute increments. Unfortunately my time management scribbles for yesterday, when I began, are nearly illegible. But I think it will show me how much time I spend sitting here trolling through FB or reading the NYT or ... or blogging. I used to write personal essays that I sold to the newspapers or the CBC; now I blog for hours, for free. I wonder if it's the best use of my time. YES I DO WONDER THAT. And Laura Vanderkam I'm sure will have something to say about that too. 7 p.m.-7.30: blogging.

We are in deepest winter now, but even after yesterday's pretty snowfall which quickly turned to slush, nothing like Ottawa - more than 51 centimetres of snow, a record. 51 centimetres! I wonder about the poor Syrian refugees who were sent to Ottawa. They must think they're on the moon.

dream

Maybe 3 times a year, I have a dream so powerful that I remember it when I wake up. When that happens, I do my best to write it down before it vanishes. Wrote this this morning:

Dream – packing for a trip, a bit frantic, getting everything into a small suitcase, and Anna is helping me. Though there’s panic, it’s pleasant too, I’m going home and I’m looking at things I love as I put them in the suitcase. But there’s a sadness – I’m packing my teddy bear which has been damaged. The head has been torn off and is all that remains. Anna tries to fix the situation – she finds a hairy bear’s body that will fit and attaches it. But it’s the wrong fur, wrong colour and texture, and I say I’d rather just have the head than have my bear with the wrong body.
I find other things at the last minute – my thick mauve sweater – and yet there’s lots of room to put them in. I’m aware of the pressing deadline of the departure and the fact that Anna will be making the same journey herself later and will have a lot more things to carry, and I won’t be there to help her.
Have been thinking a lot about death recently – read the book “The thing about life is that one day you’ll be dead.” A dear elderly friend has told me he’s got early stage dementia and lots of changes will be in store. I think this dream is connected to that – to my eventual final journey without my daughter.
Sitting here on a quiet Tuesday morning, the snow falling, the furnace rumbling, the coffee warming my belly – my daughter’s new happiness with the father of her son, my son’s adventures, my own - oh I do not want to leave this life.

Downton yes, Vinyl no, John Oliver forever

Record cold on Valentine's Day - the coldest since the 1800's. The kind of cold that when you go out, your eyeballs burn. But luckily, besides buying some groceries for my dinner party, I didn't have to go out. Wayson came over with roses, JM and Richard brought dark chocolate ... love.

How wonderful it is to have friends for dinner on a cold dark winter night. Jean-Marc and Richard, Gretchen and Jack came; I roasted two chickens with lemon, rosemary and veggies, and made my favourite Yotam Ottolenghi recipe, parsnips and sweet potatoes in a caper vinaigrette. Fresh bread, very good red wine, lots of animated talk - G and J are ex-pat Americans and Richard is a politics junkie, so major discussion about the current situation down south.

And then, after dessert - Downton, the most delicious treat of all. So much fun, however clunky it is - didn't we KNOW something was going to go wrong with those cars? Tom's girl has obviously appeared - an editor, no less, a working girl after my own heart for that sweet man. Everyone's plot line is settling into place except poor Barrow, such dark clouds for him. Is he meant to show us that not everything in life resolves neatly? I do hope there's a tiny bit of happiness for Barrow. Only two more shows, how I'll miss our Sunday gatherings.

We watched the new HBO show Vinyl afterwards - directed by Scorsese with input from Mick Jagger, about the rock world in the Seventies. I hated it, despite the great music - loathsome people behaving loathsomely, who needs it? There's enough of that on the news. Won't watch again. And then John Oliver at 11 - another treat to watch him eviscerate Republicans. Never enough of that.

Today two more Valentines - one, I loaded the huge stack of dishes from last night into the new dishwasher and, with trepidation, ran it for the first time. It worked. The dishes were clean, even the cutlery, a treat I haven't enjoyed for a long time. Imagine, a new machine that actually works!

And then a present in the mail from Lynn in France - a bag she ordered for me and a beautiful sparkly necklace. I am feeling the love. It's milder too, not so viciously cold. There are leftovers. There's wine. I played the Bach aria I've been practicing without as many mistakes, and it floods my heart with joy. Family Day today and I'm solitary, talking to no one, not even family. That's good too.

Hope your days, yesterday and today's holiday, were full of warmth and the gifts of friendship. And here's my gift to you - a beautiful song from a beautiful man:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bjNYGqeZYU

no mourning for Scalia

PS
I do not often celebrate when someone dies. But Scalia - as the Onion put it,
Justice Scalia Dead Following 30-Year Battle With Social Progress. http://www.theonion.com/graphic/justice-scalia-dead-following-30-year-battle-socia-52356
And as I put it, Woo hoo! Here's my heart at the news:
Instead, I felt this:
Like Jon Stewart dancing with basketball friends in Toronto. 

The Thing About Life Is That One Day You'll Be Dead

Woke up this morning to find no water in the taps; the pipes froze overnight. The coldest night of the year - minus 40, someone said, though that's perhaps a bit exaggerated. I have managed to scrabble enough water to brush my teeth, and there was water in the coffee machine so have had coffee. Moved eight boxes in the basement to get to the pipes and rigged up both a heater and a hair dryer aimed at them. More than an hour - still no water. I had plans but have to stay here until there's water - concern that the pipes will burst.

I am not feeling a happy valentinesey feeling. I am feeling very alone in a huge house that I cannot cope with. Yesterday, I spent two hours with my young helper Grace, just going through boxes and boxes of family photographs inherited from my mother and others. There is so much stuff in this house, it's ridiculous; I'm drowning in it, in my to-do lists. A very old four-story house with vast garden is too much for one incompetent woman. There are times that I like being alone very much, and then there are times when I do not like it at all, and this is one of them. It would be nice to share this load occasionally.

Okay, that's enough self-pity. Luckily, both tenants are away today so it's only me inconvenienced. And anyway, I do share the load of this house with my dear handyman and friend John, who unfortunately and so selfishly has his own life and is away today. He was here much of yesterday installing the new dishwasher and fixing the smoke alarm downstairs, which beeped at top volume for an hour because, John discovered when he disconnected it, it was inexplicably full of water.

My former handyman Len once told me I must have offended the water gods in a previous life. I'm sorry, water gods, for whatever I did to offend you - very very sorry.

Jon Stewart is in Toronto! There's some kind of big basketball thingie happening and he was here, in a Toronto at its most inhospitable. Sorry, Jon. Please come back when the weather is tolerable, as it has been all winter until now.

In other news - I finished a wonderful book called "The thing about life is that one day you'll be dead," by David Shields, who's one of the leaders in the world of creative non-fiction. It's a hilarious, fascinating and moving book which combines hard scientific facts about the biology and psychology of living and dying with the personal story of David's extraordinary father, aged 97.

The book thrilled me by mentioning that his Yiddish-speaking dad went to see a production of "Der Vilder Mensch" - the Wild Man, one of my great-grandfather Jacob Gordin's plays. So I looked up David Shields's email address and wrote him a fan note, telling him how much I enjoyed his last book "Reality Hunger" and this one, and about Gordin, and would he like to read my book about him? Less than one minute later, I kid you not, David wrote back. I am sending him my book and the memoir too, since his wife is a Paul McCartney fan. I love the internet.

Here's a few passages from David's book:

Woody Allen: I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve immortality through not dying. I don’t want to live on in the hearts of my countrymen. I would rather live on in my apartment.”
A priest, a minister and a rabbi are discussing what they’d like people to say after they die and their bodies are on display in open caskets.The priest says, “I’d like someone to say, ‘He was righteous, honest, and generous.’”The minister says, “I’d like someone to say, ‘He was kind and fair, and he was good to his parishioners.’”The rabbi says, “I’d want someone to say, ‘Look, he’s moving.’” 
WATER! A sudden burst from the taps! I can wash! I can rinse dishes! I can play with my new dishwasher! Oh the marvels of life! HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

noise bylaw - URGENT!

I could not feel more strongly about this: noise pollution is one of the great crimes of our city lives. Please read and respond immediately, Toronto bloggees. 

The City is about to change the Noise Bylaw — and not in our favour. It proposes to allow noise inside our homes from an outside source (amplified music, construction, clubs, etc.) at 85 dBA from 7 am to 11 pm. That is equal to a snow blower running all day in your home. (www.noisehelp.com/noise-level-chart.html) New York City’s dBA limit for homes is 42 dBA.
  Noise SourceDecibel
Level Decibel EffectBoeing 737 or DC-9 aircraft at one nautical mile (6080 ft) before landing (97 dB); power mower (96 dB); motorcycle at 25 ft (90 dB). Newspaper press (97 dB).904 times as loud as 70 dB. Likely damage in 8 hour exposure.Garbage disposal, dishwasher, average factory, freight train (at 15 meters). Car wash at 20 ft (89 dB); propeller plane flyover at 1000 ft (88 dB); diesel truck 40 mph at 50 ft (84 dB); diesel train at 45 mph at 100 ft (83 dB). Food blender (88 dB); milling machine (85 dB); garbage disposal (80 dB).802 times as loud as 70 dB. Possible damage in 8 hour exposure.Passenger car at 65 mph at 25 ft (77 dB); freeway at 50 ft from pavement edge 10 a.m. (76 dB). Living room music (76 dB); radio or TV-audio, vacuum cleaner (70 dB).70Arbitrary base of comparison. Upper 70s are annoyingly loud to some people.http://www.industrialnoisecontrol.com/comparative-noise-examples.htm

The current General Prohibition protecting residents from being disturbed in their homes will be removed, and replaced with very high decibel limits that must be measured by a trained Municipal Licensing and Standards bylaw officer with calibrated equipment.  MLS bylaw officers are few, and never on call. The chances of getting good evidence are extremely low, so that effective reduction of a neighbour’s troubling noise is unlikely to occur.  

Many downtown areas share our problems, mostly from amplified sound and construction noise. We urge you strongly to insist on keeping the old bylaw, which protects residents from being disturbed in their own homes and allows them to present evidence of disturbance. The health effects of this amount of noise are considerable: 85 dBA is on the cusp of where hearing damage can occur, and prolonged noise at this level can affect health and, indeed, longevity. Provincial legislation limits the noise at point of reception — such as your home — to 50 dBA. The City now asks us to live with 85 dBA, which is 12 times the 50 dBA on a calibrated scale!

At present, the General Prohibition (591-1) protects residents from being disturbed in their own homes at all hours, whatever the source or decibel (DBa) level, and allows them to present evidence of disturbance. It should not be replaced by noise measurements which are difficult to obtain and may not protect our peace at home.  We strongly believe that the General Prohibition is an exemplary protection for the public which should stand and not be removed.

You have until Feb. 15, 2016 to add your voice. Here are the City documents: 
http://www.toronto.ca/legdocs/mmis/2016/ls/bgrd/backgroundfile-87299.pdf

Feel free to use this content in your protest:
I strongly protest the proposed changes to the City Noise Bylaw. I request that the General Prohibition (591-1), which protects residents from being disturbed in their own homes at all hours, and allows them to present evidence of disturbance, remain unchanged.No multiple noise exemptions can be granted to concert venues, but must be granted one by one and be approved by the local city councillor.Send your email or letter to:
Jessica Walters
Jwalter2@toronto.ca
Senior Policy and Research Officer
Municipal Licensing and Standards
City Hall, 100 Queen Street West, West Tower, 16th Floor
Toronto, ON, M5H 2N2

Please share this information with others.

You can speak to this issue at the next public meeting by Municipal Licensing and Standards on February 17th, 2016 from 6:30pm to 8:30pm at City Hall, 2nd Floor, Committee Room 1