Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 226
December 16, 2014
Marni Jackson tackles Karl Ove
If you have tackled even a few pages of Karl Ove Knausgaard's lengthy opus, My Struggle, with its relentless focus on the mundane - no detail too petty, so detailed, in fact, as to be mesmerizing - you will appreciate this hilarious take-off done by Toronto's brilliant Marni Jackson.
http://brickmag.com/my-struggle-part-vii
http://brickmag.com/my-struggle-part-vii
Santa baby
Meanwhile, back in Frozenland:
The consensus on FB is that this Santa is weird. "Dude," says Uncle Sam, "Santa has no face!" But Eli does not seem to mind. He knows "presents" and that this is where they come from.
The consensus on FB is that this Santa is weird. "Dude," says Uncle Sam, "Santa has no face!" But Eli does not seem to mind. He knows "presents" and that this is where they come from.
it's tough but someone's got to do it
Truly amazing - the pool and the beach are deserted here because it's only 70 degrees. Too cold. And yet many of the people down here came from up north originally ... and are now huddled in their condos watching TV and playing bridge. Well, so much the better for me, I have the place all to myself.
Settling into a rhythm here - read, blog, sit by pool writing - I got a chunk of work done yesterday, very satisfying - quick swim, drive to Publix for supplies and newspapers, lunch, walk on beach, read. Read. Read. Work. And late, watch any scraps of left-wing TV possible - Rachel Maddow, though I can only take so much, and of course Jon. Watched a woman called Miranda Esmonde-White on PBS talk about how regular exercise is all you need to prevent the worst aspects of aging. Miranda went to Carleton University in the late Sixties, when I did; her brother was a friend. And now she's an American anti-aging superstar. Good for her! Too bad she's had so much work done on her face she cannot move her forehead. Kind of negates her message.
Was awake in the night thinking about the amazing word "set." Started with sunset, which I try to see most evenings here. The sun sets. I thought about what else sets - jelly. Then twin set, a set of dishes, to set something down, to set things right, to set your heart on fire ... That's one very useful word.
This is what writers do at 3 a.m.
Don't forget. Be still my heating heart.
The Daily Show14 December at 16:00 · This Week's Guests: ► MONDAY: Tim Burton
► TUESDAY: Paul McCartney
► WEDNESDAY: Anna Kendrick...See More
Settling into a rhythm here - read, blog, sit by pool writing - I got a chunk of work done yesterday, very satisfying - quick swim, drive to Publix for supplies and newspapers, lunch, walk on beach, read. Read. Read. Work. And late, watch any scraps of left-wing TV possible - Rachel Maddow, though I can only take so much, and of course Jon. Watched a woman called Miranda Esmonde-White on PBS talk about how regular exercise is all you need to prevent the worst aspects of aging. Miranda went to Carleton University in the late Sixties, when I did; her brother was a friend. And now she's an American anti-aging superstar. Good for her! Too bad she's had so much work done on her face she cannot move her forehead. Kind of negates her message.
Was awake in the night thinking about the amazing word "set." Started with sunset, which I try to see most evenings here. The sun sets. I thought about what else sets - jelly. Then twin set, a set of dishes, to set something down, to set things right, to set your heart on fire ... That's one very useful word.
This is what writers do at 3 a.m.
Don't forget. Be still my heating heart.
The Daily Show14 December at 16:00 · This Week's Guests: ► MONDAY: Tim Burton
► TUESDAY: Paul McCartney
► WEDNESDAY: Anna Kendrick...See More
December 15, 2014
good news, bad bad man
An optimistic article about - gasp - the book! And the bookstore - that people may be returning to hardcovers as they're returning to vinyl records - as a technology that may seem old-fashioned but that delivers more than its replacement.
Nice to have a happy story about our industry. For once!
http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/dec/14/book-revival-james-daunt-waterstones?CMP=EMCNEWEML6619I2
I nominate Dick Cheney for a new award: the Pure Unmitigated Evil Award. He says that what the CIA did was not torture and that he'd "do it again in a minute." His prize for the award would be a jolly spot of waterboarding and then being chained naked to a cold floor for a week or two. Fun times! Congratulations, Mr. Cheney, you living devil.
Nice to have a happy story about our industry. For once!
http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/dec/14/book-revival-james-daunt-waterstones?CMP=EMCNEWEML6619I2
I nominate Dick Cheney for a new award: the Pure Unmitigated Evil Award. He says that what the CIA did was not torture and that he'd "do it again in a minute." His prize for the award would be a jolly spot of waterboarding and then being chained naked to a cold floor for a week or two. Fun times! Congratulations, Mr. Cheney, you living devil.
December 14, 2014
In memoriam - writers in 2014
Bravo to all.
Macca and Jon - ecstasy.
Joy, my friends, joy - Paul McCartney is going to be on Jon Stewart on Tuesday. Two of the best men on the planet, two of the most talented, interesting, ethical and generous men on earth, together. Thank you, gods of television. Macca will be advertising his new single, which I heard briefly and which is not his best. Definitely not his best. But he's still in there, still in the game. He cares. He tries. We love him for it. Now for today's Florida pix.
Absurd - looking for local produce in Publix, the local supermarket, I found these tomatoes - from Canada! How is it possible that Canadian tomatoes are exported to FLORIDA?
Christmas message in the sand.
A bronzed grouping - the 3 of them were mahogany-coloured; there are some crazy tanners around here. Otherwise, the beach is empty because it was 68 degrees with a bit of wind. Much too cold.
Christmas in Florida - a deflated reindeer and a very small decorated something or other. I saw a row of red things and thought they were fake - but they were real poinsettias. Extremely red.
I spent today with Cousin David, my father's much younger cousin, six years older than I, who now lives nearby. We went to an arts and crafts fair and walked on the beach and had dinner on the beach watching the sunset. (At 6 p.m. - you eat dinner early in Florida.) It's a wonderful bond with a man who knew my father before I did - and I knew his parents Bill and Chet, who were favourites of my parents. Family.
Now it's 7.15, it's very quiet and dark and I'm full of fresh fish and wine. Time either to fall asleep or read. And maybe 7.15 is just a tich early for bed.
Absurd - looking for local produce in Publix, the local supermarket, I found these tomatoes - from Canada! How is it possible that Canadian tomatoes are exported to FLORIDA? 
Christmas message in the sand. 
A bronzed grouping - the 3 of them were mahogany-coloured; there are some crazy tanners around here. Otherwise, the beach is empty because it was 68 degrees with a bit of wind. Much too cold. 
Christmas in Florida - a deflated reindeer and a very small decorated something or other. I saw a row of red things and thought they were fake - but they were real poinsettias. Extremely red.I spent today with Cousin David, my father's much younger cousin, six years older than I, who now lives nearby. We went to an arts and crafts fair and walked on the beach and had dinner on the beach watching the sunset. (At 6 p.m. - you eat dinner early in Florida.) It's a wonderful bond with a man who knew my father before I did - and I knew his parents Bill and Chet, who were favourites of my parents. Family.
Now it's 7.15, it's very quiet and dark and I'm full of fresh fish and wine. Time either to fall asleep or read. And maybe 7.15 is just a tich early for bed.
Guns don't kill people? Really?
Drove to Walgreen’s this morning to get the Sunday New York Times, mmmm. Just in case I had any affectionate notion of staying in Florida longer, the truck parked next to mine decided me. The bumper sticker read “GUNS DON'T KILL PEOPLE - ABORTIONS KILL PEOPLE.” I’m outta here.
It's hard to understand why abortion continues to be the biggest controversy down here. You'd think this was a Catholic country. It must have something to do with controlling women's bodies, hating these new-fangled notions of women deciding what goes on inside. How to make sense of: Guns don't kill people. What kind of mind came up with that slogan?
One I don't want even to park beside, thank you very much.
Have started to open drawers and cupboards and contemplate my mother's and aunt's life here over the years - their box of Christmas decorations and box marked "extra wine glasses," in case they ever had a social event, which they never did. Love the Canadian flag stuck in a large glass vase full of shells. What to do with it all? Ah well, there's hardly anything here, at least in comparison with Mum's Ottawa apartment and its 600 pairs of knee-high stockings and 30 year collection of Bon Appetit magazines.
It's too bad that this place is so inhospitable politically, because it sure is wonderful in other ways - water, sunshine, palm trees, pelicans. In the morning, squeezing fresh tangelo juice and going for a swim.
However. Moving right along.
It's hard to understand why abortion continues to be the biggest controversy down here. You'd think this was a Catholic country. It must have something to do with controlling women's bodies, hating these new-fangled notions of women deciding what goes on inside. How to make sense of: Guns don't kill people. What kind of mind came up with that slogan?
One I don't want even to park beside, thank you very much.
Have started to open drawers and cupboards and contemplate my mother's and aunt's life here over the years - their box of Christmas decorations and box marked "extra wine glasses," in case they ever had a social event, which they never did. Love the Canadian flag stuck in a large glass vase full of shells. What to do with it all? Ah well, there's hardly anything here, at least in comparison with Mum's Ottawa apartment and its 600 pairs of knee-high stockings and 30 year collection of Bon Appetit magazines.
It's too bad that this place is so inhospitable politically, because it sure is wonderful in other ways - water, sunshine, palm trees, pelicans. In the morning, squeezing fresh tangelo juice and going for a swim.
However. Moving right along.
December 13, 2014
What is that hot yellow thing in the sky?
Quickly - because for some reason there's wifi in Mum's condo - some generous person is sharing theirs but who knows for how long? Jesus God, the rigamarole to get here. They now have a holding pen at Pearson. There was an incredibly long line-up even for those who already had boarding passes and baggage tags, so we stood and stood just at last to be checked by someone and sent to Gate 15. That's new, at the far end of the terminal, and it turns out to be a holding pen where you sit until they allow you through to walk all the way back where you came from, to American customs. So you wait in a long line up there, and then you get through and wait in an interminable line to get through security. The guy in front of me had an inch of distilled water in a portable bottle that took ten minutes of deep discussion between all the guys - should they let it through? Need I mention that the guilty party was brown? They did not.
So - gruelling to get to the gate, and then of course wait, the flight is packed. Sitting in front of me was none other than Clayton Ruby, a principled Toronto lawyer whom I deeply admire. We chatted for a bit. He dislikes Harper, is concerned that Justin surrounds himself with Liberal party apparatchiks, thinks Mulcair has a good chance to make a difference. I thanked him for all he has done for Canada, which he shrugged off, and asked him why he was flying back here instead of up there. "I can't afford up there," he said. How is that possible, famous lawyer? I wanted to say but didn't.
I watched a wonderful documentary called "Children and Film," showing how kids have been portrayed through the decades in classic and unknown films. As the narrator pointed out, film itself, in terms of an art form, is a kid.
And then here we are, rent the car, get the bag, leave the terminal - and melt. That first hit of warm damp air and heat and sun - and you think, why ever leave? I'm in Mum's living room now - it smells musty and uninhabited here, but I have the windows wide open. I can see the bay and palm trees. I've been for a walk on the endless white beach and to Publix to buy groceries and, of course, wine. And now I will sit in a stupor. So much to do at home, so busy, frantic. Here - silence, warm damp air, this computer, books to read, books to write. Bewildering.
I mourn my mother, whose battered sunhats are still hanging up here, whose taste furnished this place, who enjoyed it through the winter months, with her sister Do, for a dozen years or more. It really is heaven. Too bad it's in Florida.
So - gruelling to get to the gate, and then of course wait, the flight is packed. Sitting in front of me was none other than Clayton Ruby, a principled Toronto lawyer whom I deeply admire. We chatted for a bit. He dislikes Harper, is concerned that Justin surrounds himself with Liberal party apparatchiks, thinks Mulcair has a good chance to make a difference. I thanked him for all he has done for Canada, which he shrugged off, and asked him why he was flying back here instead of up there. "I can't afford up there," he said. How is that possible, famous lawyer? I wanted to say but didn't.
I watched a wonderful documentary called "Children and Film," showing how kids have been portrayed through the decades in classic and unknown films. As the narrator pointed out, film itself, in terms of an art form, is a kid.
And then here we are, rent the car, get the bag, leave the terminal - and melt. That first hit of warm damp air and heat and sun - and you think, why ever leave? I'm in Mum's living room now - it smells musty and uninhabited here, but I have the windows wide open. I can see the bay and palm trees. I've been for a walk on the endless white beach and to Publix to buy groceries and, of course, wine. And now I will sit in a stupor. So much to do at home, so busy, frantic. Here - silence, warm damp air, this computer, books to read, books to write. Bewildering.
I mourn my mother, whose battered sunhats are still hanging up here, whose taste furnished this place, who enjoyed it through the winter months, with her sister Do, for a dozen years or more. It really is heaven. Too bad it's in Florida.
December 11, 2014
Basics of Listening at Ryerson
My warm and encouraging piano teacher, Peter Mose, teaches a course at the Life Institute at Ryerson called Basics of Listening. The Life Institute has fabulous courses, generally but not exclusively for seniors, for a very reasonable price. Check it out - if you're in Toronto and free on Mondays, this is guaranteed to knock your ears off.
Getting Inside Classical Music, Opus 7: Basics of Listening
NEWback to top
J. S. Bach or Erik Satie? Handel or Grieg? Vivaldi or Schoenberg? Do you enjoy these very different composers equally? Or do you like certain styles or musical periods? Are our preferences inevitable or can we learn to enjoy many different forms of music? In this experiential course we will tour the world of Western art music to find out. We will explore the pure sound and structure of classical compositions as we ask some fundamental questions. What is melody? What is rhythm? What is musical colour or texture? What is form? Perhaps when we complete our journey, you will appreciate both Beethoven and Shostakovich! The goal is to bring classical music alive through active listening and guided conversation. Newcomers to music and seasoned listeners are equally welcome.
Peter Mose, a music critic and adult educator, has been presenting lively, interactive classical music immersion courses for the past decade. He has taught several courses for the LIFE Institute. His website is: www.MoseMusicalArts.com Limited to 60 participantsDates:Feb. 2 – Mar. 16 (6 sessions, no class Feb. 16)Time:Mondays, 12:10 p.m. –1:55 p.m.Location:To Be AnnouncedFee:$57.00Course Number:W05Category:MusicLecture/s:Peter MoseTerm:Winter 2015
Getting Inside Classical Music, Opus 7: Basics of Listening
NEWback to top
J. S. Bach or Erik Satie? Handel or Grieg? Vivaldi or Schoenberg? Do you enjoy these very different composers equally? Or do you like certain styles or musical periods? Are our preferences inevitable or can we learn to enjoy many different forms of music? In this experiential course we will tour the world of Western art music to find out. We will explore the pure sound and structure of classical compositions as we ask some fundamental questions. What is melody? What is rhythm? What is musical colour or texture? What is form? Perhaps when we complete our journey, you will appreciate both Beethoven and Shostakovich! The goal is to bring classical music alive through active listening and guided conversation. Newcomers to music and seasoned listeners are equally welcome.Peter Mose, a music critic and adult educator, has been presenting lively, interactive classical music immersion courses for the past decade. He has taught several courses for the LIFE Institute. His website is: www.MoseMusicalArts.com Limited to 60 participantsDates:Feb. 2 – Mar. 16 (6 sessions, no class Feb. 16)Time:Mondays, 12:10 p.m. –1:55 p.m.Location:To Be AnnouncedFee:$57.00Course Number:W05Category:MusicLecture/s:Peter MoseTerm:Winter 2015
December 10, 2014
Beth = house
Crazy mad tired - busy. Just got home from Ottawa and am leaving again on Saturday for my mother's condo in Florida, which my brother and I have been trying to sell for months. I need to see the lawyer handling the estate issues and the real estate agent - and, yes, I need to walk on the beach one last time. Pick up shells, watch sea birds skitter in and out of the waves on their spindly black legs, sit and work alone for a week in that quiet place. I don't like Florida much, but this is a lovely spot, unpretentious and calm. But it's still Florida, one of the most right-wing states in a lunatic country - more lunatic, more criminal than we could ever have imagined, as we now know after the release of those appalling CIA stories that I refuse to watch or read.
Get me out of there. But first ... the forecast is for sun. High of 21. Let me at it first.
In the meantime, there is a great deal to do in regular life, let alone the Christmas tsunami. Today I did some Xmas decorating - suspended a string of pretty coloured lights from Ikea on tacks in the front window. That'll do for now.
Tonight, the annual swish gathering of the U of T Continuing Studies department, this time in the wonderful Artspace at Wychwood Barns. Great food, lots of wine, not too many speeches. When I got home, a student had forwarded an email from my boss at U of T, a general press release listing all this year's book publications by our department staff and students. She was very proud, because she took the memoir she wrote for me and published as a memoir, and changed it into a novel re-published under a pseudonym. That book was listed.
My books were not. They slipped his mind. I wrote to remind him that the woman who teaches memoir writing in his department had newly published both a memoir and a book about writing memoir that's now a textbook for her course, and perhaps he might consider including those.
He's a busy man. As the blue princess bellows in "Frozen," which I watched in a dreadful on-line version with Eli, "LET IT GO!" But it's like defending your children. You left my precious offspring OUT?
On the other hand, today's triumph: riding my bike in the very cold. In Ottawa, we killed time, as you've read, in shops, and one of them was Mountain Equipment Coop, one of my favourites, where Eli loved the canoes and wanted to get in them. I noticed women's snowboarding gloves on sale. Bought them, wore them today on the bike in the very cold. Warm hands! A new frontier - wearing snow pants, boots, two layers of hat, parka, scarf over the face and snowboarding gloves, I rode in comfort, except for my eyes which were very cold.
Here's today's lesson. I love that my name means "house." Because I am my house.
A Short History of the Letter B:
The letter B was part of the Phoenician alphabet more than 3000 years ago in 1000 BCE. At that time, the letter was called beth and looked a little different, but it made the sound of b and was second in the alphabet. The shape of the letter resembled the floor plan of a house, and the word beth meant “house.” This is pictured below. In Hebrew, the letter was called beth, bet, or bayt which also means “house.”
Get me out of there. But first ... the forecast is for sun. High of 21. Let me at it first.
In the meantime, there is a great deal to do in regular life, let alone the Christmas tsunami. Today I did some Xmas decorating - suspended a string of pretty coloured lights from Ikea on tacks in the front window. That'll do for now.
Tonight, the annual swish gathering of the U of T Continuing Studies department, this time in the wonderful Artspace at Wychwood Barns. Great food, lots of wine, not too many speeches. When I got home, a student had forwarded an email from my boss at U of T, a general press release listing all this year's book publications by our department staff and students. She was very proud, because she took the memoir she wrote for me and published as a memoir, and changed it into a novel re-published under a pseudonym. That book was listed.
My books were not. They slipped his mind. I wrote to remind him that the woman who teaches memoir writing in his department had newly published both a memoir and a book about writing memoir that's now a textbook for her course, and perhaps he might consider including those.
He's a busy man. As the blue princess bellows in "Frozen," which I watched in a dreadful on-line version with Eli, "LET IT GO!" But it's like defending your children. You left my precious offspring OUT?
On the other hand, today's triumph: riding my bike in the very cold. In Ottawa, we killed time, as you've read, in shops, and one of them was Mountain Equipment Coop, one of my favourites, where Eli loved the canoes and wanted to get in them. I noticed women's snowboarding gloves on sale. Bought them, wore them today on the bike in the very cold. Warm hands! A new frontier - wearing snow pants, boots, two layers of hat, parka, scarf over the face and snowboarding gloves, I rode in comfort, except for my eyes which were very cold.
Here's today's lesson. I love that my name means "house." Because I am my house.
A Short History of the Letter B:
The letter B was part of the Phoenician alphabet more than 3000 years ago in 1000 BCE. At that time, the letter was called beth and looked a little different, but it made the sound of b and was second in the alphabet. The shape of the letter resembled the floor plan of a house, and the word beth meant “house.” This is pictured below. In Hebrew, the letter was called beth, bet, or bayt which also means “house.”
