Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 218

Treasure

It was surreal last night, the scope of the television menu, jumping from the 40th anniversary party of "Saturday Night Live" and the superb Attenborough nature documentary "Life Story", which were competing at 8, to the delights of "Downton" at 9, and then at 10 back to SNL which went on till nearly 11.30. The best TV can offer - an extraordinary documentary with close-ups of mammals, insects, fish and birds at various dramatic phases of their lives, to the best of British drama featuring Maggie Smith as vulnerable and beautiful as she has ever been, and then to what the Americans do best - celebrate themselves and throw a big extravagant party. A parade of stars, many Canucks - there was my old friend Dan Ackroyd, there were Jim Carrey, Martin Short, Mike Myers and others, and of course the whole thing produced for 40 years by Lorne Michaels. And mourning for departed greats like Gilda Radner.

Macca was much in evidence along with a lot of other famous comedians, actors and musicians who used to be young and are no more; he played and sang and didn't sound great, I know. But he looked wonderful and there he was. Paul Simon who's even older also sang and didn't sound great but we were just as glad to see him. "Nobody retires in America," said Richard who was watching with us. Incidentally, someone who did sound great was Miley Cyrus, who was actually wearing clothes and did a gorgeous cover of "Fifty ways to leave your lover."

Today there's an article in the NYT about an intimate concert the tireless Macca gave the same day, extolling his sweet musicality. So true.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/02/16/arts/music/paul-mccartney-offers-guileless-romance-at-irving-plaza.html?ref=arts&_r=0

It was a relief to spend the evening in front of the TV because the day was hectic. It was unbelievably cold - so cold that on my brief sortie outside, my eyeballs burned. I do not remember Toronto ever being so brutally, viciously cold. The real pleasure of yesterday was welcoming my housebound daughter and her son for a day of frolic at Glamma's. We read, we drew, we played hide and seek, which consisted of sitting on the sofa with a blanket over our heads while Mamma roared around - "Where could they be? Are they under the piano? No!" - while Eli giggled and squirmed and then, after she'd flung off our  blanket and he'd screamed with joy, saying, "Again!" And we put the blanket back over our heads and hid again.

But the best was going on safari. I found him a small pair of binoculars and another pair for myself, and he asked if I'd get on the Plasma car behind him and we'd go find treasure with our "noc-lears." So I did. We found some chocolate left over from Christmas - treasure indeed.

Happy Family Day to one and all.

Let It Be

Just back from "Let it Be" - a Beatles tribute event. I read the reviews which were glowing before buying a ticket. Four guys who look vaguely Beatle-esque - the guy playing John looks and sounds uncannily like him, in fact, and at times also looks uncannily like Yoko Ono though luckily does not sound like her. Anyway, what matters is that they are extremely good musicians - guitars, piano, drums, vocals - and they played everything live. There was a fifth Beatle, the George Martin guy, in the background playing synthesizer, all the extra sounds like cellos, sitars and full orchestra that they made in the studio. So we got to hear not only early stuff but the later music the Beatles never played live - and these guys did a fabulous job.
The Sgt. Pepper segment
After the Abbey Road bit when John had changed out of his white suit into the army jacket he wore later - and yes, "Paul" in his grey suit was barefoot.

What it reinforced is simply what a superb band they were from the start till the end - tight, always innovative, vocally adventurous and rocking. The highlight of the second act was "While my guitar gently weeps" which has never been a fave of mine but which exploded here. Great great music, warming us on the coldest day of the year. Minus 12 but with the windchill, minus 40. Ye gods.

This was my Valentine's present to a certain woman of whom I've grown rather fond. She looks quite a bit like me. In fact, she IS me. Rock on, my darlings.

why marriage ends

Article in yesterday's Star titled "In hindsight, would you still have married your spouse?" It's about the fact that the very attributes that attract you to someone are sometimes the things that drive you mad after a while. They cite two examples; reading them made me wince. Because they're an apt description of some reasons for the demise of my marriage:

You saw her at a party and were immediately attracted to her magnetic personality. She was the life of the party and you were honoured she spent most of the evening with you. You began dating and said she was always fun to be around. But now that you're living together, you're not so happy to be in her shadow and call her a show off. 

You admired his work ethic. He started at the bottom and proved his worth to the higher ups. You respected that he put work ahead of play and liked that he appeared stable and secure. Now you're married, you argue about how many hours he devotes to his work. You feel you're less important and never his priority. There's very little time for play and even then, it's not much fun.

Nailed it.

However, there's always hope.

white men with guitars=love

Here's a Valentine's Day gift for you all: an amazing assembly of our favourite musicians - George Harrison, Eric Clapton, Neil Young and more, plus Bob himself - singing Bob Dylan's "My Back Pages." Heaven. Have a wonderful day. I wish you music.
https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=574887372647634&set=vb.288530094616698&type=2&theater
And - what can we say to the following but YES?

We all love Jon. Sun News, not so much.

Oh, the outpouring about the departure of Jon - every news outlet, pundit, columnist, magazine ... it's heartening to know how many admire this fantastic human being. As they all say, it's bizarre that a comedian is the most trusted voice to deliver the news in America, but it's so. Jon Stewart is a wise guy - and the main word is wise.

In further good news, Canada's Sun News network has gone belly-up. The right wing's attempt to create a Canadian Fox "News" is over. How great is that? We all fear that Harper has shoved Canada far to the right - but not so far that it embraced shrill alarmist dogma and Ezra Klein's hysterics. I'm proud of us.

In bad news, this embarrassing idiot still seems for some incomprehensible reason to be here.

The Moth versus So True

Those of you who've read my blogs for awhile know I am a huge fan of the Moth, a competitive storytelling series hugely popular in New York and L.A. I managed to catch two of their events in NYC and felt truly at home in a group of storytellers, my people. The book that came out of the Moth is packed with powerful true tales. Exactly, 100% my kind of thing.

For years, I wished for something similar here; the various local events are just not the same. So I started my own - So True, life stories well written, well told, a tri-annual storytelling event: www.sotrue.ca. Our event is limited, though, to writers who've worked as students with me. I'm the curator, the editor, the tsarina, and I don't apologize for the event's lack of democracy.

So learning that the Moth itself was coming to Toronto, with opportunities for all local storytellers, I was thrilled. But then disappointed. First, it's expensive - $45 for a ticket, when the American shows cost $10, as does So True. Why so much higher here? And then I heard the host would be Ophira Eisenberg, a longterm Moth host from New York, and the five readers were TBA.

I'm sure they do not mean to be offensive - the Moth folks are wonderful people. But in bringing their American storytelling event to Canada - so typical! - they are charging more than four times what they do at home, bringing in their own host rather than hiring a local person, and not revealing who the tellers will be. I objected vehemently and did not buy a ticket.

The event is now sold out. It's fantastic that storytelling is a hot ticket. I hope that if the Moth stays in Toronto, that hot ticket will be less expensive, a local person will host, and local storytellers are advertised and become well-known.

In the meantime, have I got a great storytelling event for you! It's not sold out, and it costs only $10 for eight Toronto (or vicinity) writers, EIGHT fantastic true stories and then one from me. I could not be more proud of each reader, and I guarantee, these will be the best stories you've ever heard, or your very small $10 back. (And for my own bit, I think I'll wear my new embroidered coat.)

my new coat of many colours

Forgot to mention yesterday - on the way home from the film, I dropped into Doubletake, another of my many addictions. It has been a long time since I found a genuine treasure there - there's a great deal of competition for limited resources, and my goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible, so am not taking the necessary time to troll. But - this caught my eye. Beautifully embroidered in China, silk I think. A tiny bit small, but I'll make it work. $14.

Please invite me somewhere I can wear it. Don't you think it needs a Louise Brooks haircut, bright red lips and a cigarette holder?

Two Days, One Night

Met friend Ken at TIFF to see the movie, a welcome escape from the harshness of winter. He and I share a love of France with a healthy scepticism about the French - so this was the perfect movie for us, a beautiful film by the Dardennes brothers, with the kind of slow pace that only a French (or Belgian, in this case) film can get away with.

What is most extraordinary about the film is Marion Cotillard, one of the greatest actresses alive today and justifiably nominated for an Oscar for this film. Her Piaf was unforgettable. Here she plays a very ordinary woman, a Belgian factory worker who was away from work due to depression and, about to return, finds out her co-workers were given the choice of letting her go or receiving a 1000 euro bonus. She has been let go. She's a difficult character and there's no sugar coating her depression, her self-pity, her slide into despair - despite the most loving and attentive husband in the world. I just wanted to give her a shake. Though I know that's what depression is - a catastrophic absence of hope.

And yet she rallies. The film is a journey into the heart of human generosity and kindness and its opposite. In the end, the filmmakers seem to be telling us, we're 50-50 good and bad, kind and mean, generous and selfish. But there's hope. There is kindness and courage and love, and so there's hope.

I laughed at the end, thinking of what an American director would have done with this script. First, the actress would always have been made up and gorgeous, whereas Cotillard, stunning though she is, is always wearing the same tank top and jeans and no makeup. She's an infuriating character, very real. The ending is as happy as a defeat can be. Life is complicated.

It's not the kind of film I'd say, rush right out now and see it, like The Backward Class. But it's the kind that will stay inside, lodged in my heart.

And ... my friends are being gentle and kind. It's as if there has been a death in the family, the announcement from Jon Stewart. People know how much he means to me. I adore him, and the hole in my life, in countless lives, will be vast. However, as my friend Angus just wrote on Facebook about Jon - "The king is dead. Long live John Oliver!" Step up to the plate, John. We beg you.

NOOOO - Jon, say it isn't so!

There are times that feel like a reward for being alive, and today was one. After a terrific class at U of T, I took the subway to Lansdowne and met Anna and Eli in the biggest Value Village on the planet, surely - SO MUCH STUFF! Amazing toys, children's clothes, women's clothes, chachka's - mmm. I've avoided Value Village but if I happen to be over here again, I will make a point of checking out this one.

Anna had a gift for me - she was at her drop in centre today which has a donated clothing depot, and there she saw - two Paul McCartney concert t-shirts! Which she picked up for moi. Be still my beating heart.

And then we went across the street to Gaslight, Sam's new bar/resto. It's really simple, very plain decor, a warm, unpretentious, narrow little space. And it's wonderful. The food was fantastic, everyone was friendly, the owners came over to tell us how much they love Sam - "We do too," I said. At one point, Eli sat at the bar next to the owner, sipping chocolate milk from a straw. A cool two-year old in the coolest new place in T.O. As we ate, I sat between my two favourite males on the face of the earth, one very tall, one very small, both adorable. Lucky me.

Home to sadness however - my third favourite man on the face of the earth, or close, anyway, is retiring! Great grief. What will I do at 11 each night? Jon, how can you do this to us? We need you!
http://www.politico.com/blogs/media/2015/02/jon-stewart-leaving-the-daily-show-202418.html?cmpid=sf

And - another scientific article with proof that writing about your own life and truths is good not only for your mental health but your physical health as well. I should call my classes "Heal with Beth."
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/writing-can-help-injuries-heal-faster/

Book City on the Danforth, I love you

Just had a meeting with my editor, who's going to read a first, very preliminary draft of the 1979 memoir in a few weeks. Something to aim for, a goal, a pair of eyes and a great brain to help me see what I'm doing. A good editor is a midwife later, but earlier, she's a flashlight - here's your path through the darkness. She's a gardener - prune here, plant here. She's a ... that's enough.

She asked how the Beatles memoir is doing and I told her - not very well, as it has had almost no press. We talked about how very hard it is, even with a big publisher, but especially when you are self-published, to get your books noticed. At least, a certain kind of book. She had been to a conference where a self-published mystery writer told the group she makes over $200,000 a year from her books.

Ha.
Ha. Ha.

But most, the vast majority of writers do not make enough to live on, if anything at all. That's just the way it is, particularly now the digital world is taking over and no one knows what the rules are.

ON THE OTHER HAND: I just had this very welcome email from an old friend.

I saw your book, All my loving, with all the new releases in the Book City at Carrot Common on the Danforth. Just saw it this morning. The green cover with la tour Eiffel  and two clasped hands just popped. Was very happy to see it. 

Congratulations and Happy freezing cold new year.

Thrilling, you have no idea! How did All My Loving get to Book City, one of the best (and only) independent bookstores left in town? I must go and visit it. Hello, little book - how did you make your way over here? So glad to see you out in the world. Do your best to fly away.

Thank you, Book City, for giving this writer such an unexpected boost in the middle of February.