A Handsome Diversion

Today I will not discuss books or movies.  To be honest, last week was filled with Heart-A-Rama activity, leaving little room for reading. 

Our book group met on Friday night, and I made a happy discovery.  With one or two exceptions, and for a variety of reasons, we are all "Castle" fans.   How ironic that I should make this discovery when, for the last few weeks, I have been  trying desperately, with no success, to stop watching.  You all know our guest blogger, Steve, right?  Well, each Tuesday morning, or shortly thereafter, we exchange  email evaluations of the previous night's "Castle" episode, and let me tell you, for most of this season, the reviews have not been nearly as pretty as the show's star, Nathan Fillion.

Each week, I tentatively tune in, hoping for the return of the old Castle, the writer who intimated himself into the police department simply to observe and gain greater perspective for his mystery novels.  Well, that thread has come to a screeching halt.  Long gone is the insightful, but endearingly cocky man of letters, who, with raised eyebrow and crooked grin, would throw out seemingly absurd angles for Becket and her clown posse to consider before wasting time sniffing down the wrong path.  I can't rember the last time his writing career was part of the plot. 

Then there is the is issue of the disappearing redheads - Castle's daughter and mother.  Never liked the daughter much so I'm not complaining about her shrinking parts.  With her pursed lips and condescending way of pointing out the obvious, I know the writers were clearly trying to make us believe that she is truly Castle's smart and witty daughter, and not the offspring of some travelling salesman.  But she was just too smug for me. 

His mom was OK - a sort of gypsy, hippie throwback whose boho bangles clink and jingle when she walks, talks, or twists her 70 something year old body into some impossible yoga position.

And that is just the beginning of my growing concern for the future of "Castle." Yet, I go back, week after week, because Castle manages somehow to break through all the editing, writing,  character, and  production weaknesses.  That crooked little smile gets me every time, and from the talk amoung my book group, that is what will keep this show on the air for a few more seasons. 

Two of us discovered that we go to the same eye doctor, a guy who we suspect keeps a collection starched white shirts secreted behind a hidden panel in his exam room.  No matter what time of day your appointment is, there is never a wrinkle, not a drop of French dressing, not even an errant swipe from a unleashed Bic pen.  And he looks like Nathan Fillion.  The last time time Steph was in for an exam she got halfway into her question, "Hey Dr.________, has anybody ever told you..."   "All the time!"

And that is why I must make an appointment for an exam soon.

Started watching a video series of Samule Beckett plays, beginning with the most disturbing interpretation of Waiting for Godot that I have ever seen.  The commentary afterwards made a big deal out of "Godot" being one of the funniest plays ever written.  Really?  I got the humor  when I taught it to my Drama Lit students, but it sure didn't come through in this screen version.  The scenes with Lucky and Pozzo were nearly impossible to watch...so I didn't.

Thanks for stopping by.

Home Front

If you haven't checked out www.bookreporter.com yet, what's stopping you?   If your supply of  book titles scribbled on envelope backs, grocery store receipts or damp napkin corner isn't plentiful enough to wallpaper a small room, then you simply must  check out bookreporter. 

I promise, you will be overwhelmed with the wealth of information you will find if you take the time to dig a little.  Besides some fine reviews, there are contests.  A few weeks back I entered one, and won copies of Kristin Hannah's home front   (really, no caps in this title) to share with my book group.  No fees.  No strings.

Shirley, one of our members, talks about Hannah at nearly every meeting so this free book had her nearly jumping for joy,  Nearly.  Shirley was smart enough to know that if she made the slighted move out of the cheetah chair, someone else would have slipped in.  So, it was a symbolic jump.

Hanna is known for contemporary human drama story lines, and home front does not disappoint.  this particular book focuses on how a mother's deployment puts unimaginable stress on an already challenged marriage. 

**********

I caught an interesting film last weekend - Swedish - I think, called My Life as a Dog.  Of course, the title drew me in, but the plot had little to do with dogs, except that the main character, a incredibly likable, but quirky kid, was sort of treated like a stray pup most of his young life.  But, no matter where he is sent, he settles, has some fun, causes some trouble, and then is sent packing.  Most the families he is sent to, due his mother's inability to care for him, like him a bit, but they simply don't have the know how or the patience to deal with him.  At one point. the poor kids is sent to live by day with a relative, and at night he is packed off to sleep a a neighbor's - an elderly widow who's twin bed is situated within inched of poor little Ingemar.

The subtitles are small and quick, but as foreign films go, this one rank right up there with Amelie starring Audrey Tautau. 

**********

What am I reading?  The Fate of Mercy Alban by Wendy Webb.   One mysterious death piled on top of another, coupled with a family curse, a missing manuscript, hidden love letters and a  glorious mansion.  This remeinds me of the Victoria Holdtbooks which was basically all I read in high school, so I'm enjoying the nostalgia of it all.

**********

I'm seriously thinking about starting a Facebook page for LaDeDa.  Madde G, get ready, I may be asking for your advice and help.

What? Me? Chicken?

Hey!  If the hit counter on Blogger is correct, about 130 of you read each post.  130 give or take, that is, since surely some of you are so taken with every word that you read it twice, right?  So, where were you all when last Monday came and went without my weakly (sic!) silliness?  I didn't figure out it was Monday until part way through Tuesday which then got me thinking about an old Irish Rover's song called "To Morrow"   which I played endlessly while I was teaching guitar at Golden Ring Folklore Center, but that's a story for another day.

No, on to that grand rooster at the top.  Each year when I go to my trade show in Minneapolis, I try to stop at an area indie bookstore.  One of my favorites in called The Wild Rumpus which takes its  name from a line in Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are.  Rumpus has a store cat, a couple mince and perhaps a rat or two that live in an enclosure suspended beneath the floor and covered with glass so we can all enjoy watching them.  Me - not so much.  There are a couple birds, and two chickens.  Yup, two chickens.  One is a Rhode Island Red; the other is one of those exotic,  chic white models that looks like she could be one of the Gabor sisters.  As odd as bookstore chickens seem, it works,  Every time I have stopped at Rumpus, there is at least one wee person sitting in a kid sized chair, holding a chicken and reading to it.   It's a lovely sight. 

So, if I like the idea so much, why do we not have a LaDeDa chicken, you ask.  We have health code rules.  If I eliminated the cappuccino, smoothies, and all the other drinks we serve, you can be sure we would have a chicken.  Until then, Buddy will have to fill that.

Do I have to say that this is a lighthearted book?  No, but I just did, so deal with it.  On the surface, Brian McGrory had is all - great job at the Boston Globe, season tickets to Fenway, a classic townhouse, and a cool roommate, Harry his golden retriever.  When Harry dies, Brian is heartbroken.  (Let me digress for a moment here.  Why did I read a book about a dying dog?  Doesn't that break my number one cardinal reading rule?  Sort of.  The rule actually is: PROCEED WITH CAUTION IF THERE IS A DOG ON THE COVER.).  No dog here, just a chicken, and that double crossed me.  By the time Harry died, I was hooked and carried on through my tears to find out what was up with the fowl.

Brian eventually meets and moves in with Harry's vet who owns a farm and a rooster.  Buddy fiercely protects Pam and her two daughters, and Brian soon becomes public enemy number 1.  This is funny stuff.   The author tries to bring in some profound life lessons learned from living with a rooster, but that sort of falls short.  Still, a happy weekend read. 

Rest assured, a fulled edited version of this would have plenty of chicken puns...but ATT is going to call about renewing my YP ad, and so I have to save the clever, and snarky comments for the unsuspecting sales rep. 

More bits.....

• Heart-A-Rama auditions this Thursday at 7:00 and Sunday at 1:00.  for more info go to  www.heartarama.blogspot.com.
• 
  
• Sara, I know you're lurking out there.  I hope Amelia is feeling better!
• 
  
• Our hearts go out to Majel H., loved and respected music teacher at Wilson Junior High, and wife of our friend, Phil.  Majel is one again fighting with the cancer beast.  She is incredibly strong, brave, and resilient.  Send good thoughts  her way, please.

Thanks for stopping by.

The Return of Steve

From Penguin Group website:  In 1936, in the midst of the Great Depression, photographer Dorothea Lange took a photograph for the Federal Resettlement Program that would become the most iconic image of that unforgettable time in American history. Her subject was Florence Owens Thompson, a thirty-two-year-old Native American and mother of seven, whose arresting face became the defining symbol of American poverty. Mary Coin is a novel inspired by that photograph.





Now, here's Steve...

...finished up Mary Coin last night - this strikes me as a possible 'one town one book' candidate. Could not help but reflect on how this book is like a Venn diagram with Mary as the key circle and the other characters intersecting in small slices off her - the other image I had was circles within circles. 

Back in the mid 70's I  was working for Lincoln Action Program, a community action agency, and was asked to help an elderly woman relocate from her apartment above a downtown store to someplace else - she took me up to her room where her few possessions were mostly packed.  On the dresser was a photograph of a young woman, dressed in a fancy outfit (with fringe ,I  think), and stunningly beautiful face.   I asked if that was her and she acknowledged it -I  said she was quite the dish in her youth age and poverty had worn the shine right off her - salvation army clothing, stooped posture, and a face creased with disappointment the only thing an observer would notice at that point - never saw her again, but the memory stuck with me, squeezed out by Marisa Silver  and her fictional account of that woman.

 Let me jump in for a second and explain...Steve has taken to reading poetry aloud each morning.

My morning poetry reading is about to shift gears to Dante's Inferno - am also reading Ted Koozer's The Poetry Home Repair Manual- Ted was named poet laureate a while back, a local celeb that is about as unassuming and plain as a grown up farm kid - think his thoughts on poetry will serve in my prose efforts.

Here I go again....Long before I have finished reading the draft of Steve's first novel, he has surprised me with the news that he is well underway with his second.  I won't give too much away, except that it is set in a small town south of Door County and focues on a women's book discussion group.  Hmmmmm...

Here Comes Rumpel...

This is our crazy cast for "Rumpelstiltskin".  Oh, how I enjoy working with them and hope you will come and see them in action!

Public performance

  Thursday, January 24

7 PM

UW-Manitowoc

Tickets available at the campus, at the door or at LaDeDa

Adults...$5.00 

Children under 12...$2.00

Lots of audience participation so every child can get into the act!

The day before the public performance, all the Riverview kindergartners will be bussed in to see the play.  A few first grade classes are coming as well, so we will have two full houses for the school performances.

Here's the scoop on the cast for you...

Glady...Laurie Magyar...she's the storyteller who keeps things going and involves the audience throughout the play

Annette...Sheila Hansen...Annette is the Miller's daughter, and the sweet young thing who is must spin straw into gold or face dire consequences

Rumpelstiltskin...David Bourgeois...Rumpel's an elfish fellow who appears and disappears.  He's a trickster and a game player.  We took the "Scary" out of the character because so many wee ones come to see our shows.  Didn't want to have to mop the floor or dry tears. 

King...Keith Shaw...He's the one on the floor looking a bit like Elton John.  As a matter of fact, Keith played Rumpel once for us.  His King is silly, loud, and unpredictable.  I am thrilled that Keith retired as principal of Lincoln High School.  Now he has time to play with us again.

Miller...Charles Allger...This guy (the Miller not Chuck) is pathetic,  and without Annette to push him, he'd be sitting on his butt grumbling all day long.

They have been working hard to learn lines, lock in blocking and develop characters.  Their improv skills are being honed as well.  This show is loaded with audience participation, and several kids will be invited on stage to become characters.  So, this cast has to be on their toes and work with whatever is thrown at them.  Needless to say, our rehearsals have been fun, inventive and filled with laughs.

We have had tons of help from lots of other friends.

Suzanne Lawrence...Procucer... Suzanne is the new Director of Continuing Education at UW-Manitowoc.  Rumpel is her first whack at theatre so her learning curve is steep.  She's been great and I'm looking forward to working with her on a larger project this summer.

Chris Lochmann...set builder

Sara Steeber...set painter

Pat Smith...lights and sound
Maddie Hansen...student assistant
Cindy Gruett...poster design

Terri Temme...good friend who loans me props for the show

Hope to see you there.  There might not be a post next week in order to give me more time to be nervous.    It's my way of pumping up for the show.   It's delusional, really, allowing me to think my contribution  was greater than it really was.   Realistically, when I work with a cast and crew like this...well, what do I really have to do?

Thanks for stopping by.

What am I reading?  Home Front by Krisint Hannah.  I recently won 12 copies to give to friends provided I write about it on my blog.  Soon.

 

Valley of the Dolls

 

That's the book my discussion group chose for January.  I say say "chose" with tongue firmly in cheek since our selection method leans toward the non-complex.  Anyone with a suggestion tosses it into a latte mug, and from there it's a random pick.  I confess, "VOtD" was my choice, thinking a little retro reading would be fun.  In reality, I have found this book to be one of the saddest I have read in a long time.  Jacqueline Susann's style leaves much to be desired.  For instance, her characters share a common voice in spite of varying backgrounds,  age, social status, or levels of education.  And, they all converse in paragraphs.  No short give and take responses as in normal conversation.  Basically, she wasn't a writer, but rather a theatrical insider who was not afraid to model her characters after real life stars such as Judy Garland, Mary Martin and Ethel Merman.

Despite all that, she created on heck of a sop opera and I'm turing pages real fast trying to get to the next affair, scandal, or moment of hubris.  The book focuses on several New York women, all young and hungry for love, success, fame or all three.  Achieving those goal in the late 1940's seems tricky, especially when society has definite rules and roles for women.  Even Ann, the smartest of the bunch, accepts that she has to connect herself to the right man in order to get ahead.  She may not like it, but that's the way it goes.  Ann tries to fight the system in her small, girlish way, but she doesn't have the tools to break through the network of men who trade up women on a weekly basis, and who have no compunction about commenting on a woman's physical gifts.  No typing skill needed if the sweater if tight enough.

I was stunned at many of the attitudes in this book and and happy that, for the most part, we have learned.  At the very least, words like "fag" and ethnic insults have been driven underground.  Even better, many people have arrived at the realization that we simply can't define people by arbitrary attributes like skin color. 

Dolls - pills.  Lots of pill popping in this book.  I'd like to think that today's entertainment industry is smarter and healthier.  I hope that we all are smarter about drug use and abuse but the headlines prove otherwise. 

Not much good happened to any of the women in "VOtD".  Each one had a bit of fight in her, but their opponents were heartless, and cruel.  How lucky that we live when we do.  Sure, the struggle for equality continues, but there are  many platforms for voices to be heard today.  Each of us has a voice, if we choose to use it properly, and respectfully - and that matters.



Happiness to All...Mini Film Fest Offering #2

Newtown, CT. - so many questions

Mini Holiday Film Festival...Clip #1

Who's YOUR Sheldon? 

I Have an Issue with Jimmy Buffett Today

People who know me well would say (without hesitation) that I am pretty darn inconsiderate.  I would not argue with them.  Unlike most, I don't mark days, or commemorate events based on calendar numbers.  That's a pretty good system for me, except that it means a lot of forgotten birthdays for people throughout the year.

Instead, I mark time with music.  At the first crocus sighting, out come Annette and Doris Day.  These two sunshine voices work well mid-winter, also.  Summer...now that's easy.  Bob Marley with his tropical sounds, and the echo of steel drums.  Country rock group fill the days of autumn.


 If you are unfortunate enough to drop in just when Emmy Lou Harris, Linda Ronstad and Dolly hit their harmonic sweet spot, you'll hear me  loudly offering a loud and sour fourth note to their mellifluous          chord.   I can' help myself.

So, right now I am enjoying the Christmas CD rotation which always includes Gene Autry, John Denver and the Muppets, and a collection called "A Christmas TV Dinner" with songs by the Brady Bunch, Archie and Edith and a cast of other TV families.

 And then there's the Jimmy Buffett CD.  I could listen to Jimmy Buffett all summer long, especially his newer work.  He moved past his early playful drinking and roustabout songs, to colorful storytelling. 

But, right now, he is singing "Happy Christmas (War is Over)" and he's  ticking me off.  I can't shake the first lyric -"So this is Christmas and what have you done?"  Nothing.  I have to answer nothing, Jimmy Buffett,  Are you happy now?  Honestly, in the instant it took him to confront me with that question, I went from a relatively OK human being, to an idiot, shaking my head in panicky disbelief that I have accomplished absolutely nothing of value this year. 

On the bright side, 2012 isn't over yet, so I still have time.  Gotta go.  There must be something for me to do.    Oh, and Jimmy Buffett, I know you're reading this.  I don't really have an issue with you...you just disturbed me a little today.  Still, I'm taking a break from you.  James Taylor...that should work!

What am I reading?  I continue my commitment to sneak in a few books I should have read in college and beyond, and books others think I ought to have read.  This weekend my selection was A Room with a View by E.M. Forester.  Foe some reason, I expected a stuffy period piece, but it is really rather playful, even a little silly at points.  Lines from the Importance of Being Ernest popped into my mind every once in awhile while reading.  Forester is witty, like Oscar Wilde and that suits me just fine.