Random Thinks for a Slumbering July Day

I have been resisting the very real temptation to wail relentlessly on the ridiculousness of the summer's moribund news cycle, but my willpower is for shit and I simply must call out bullshit when bullshit is so very obvious.

• For all of my American friends who are caught up in the summer's most watched reality show starring The Donald, please take some heartfelt and battle-scarred advice from a Torontonian who (barely) survived Rob Ford....this too shall pass. It will get much worse before it gets better, but eventually the media will tire of the circus and they will deprive the asshole of the oxygen so very necessary for his survival. The one thing that you cannot do under any circumstances, is write him off as a joke. He is arrogant, outrageous, racist, obnoxious, self-serving, and mean. But because he is rich and famous, he demands serious attention. Money talks. There is a large swath of disaffected and disenfranchised people all over the country who have been itching for someone like Trump to lend credence to their creepy concerns, and he is just the narcissist to give them what they want. His entire raison-d'etre is to shake up the Republican race and he is doing exactly what he set out to do. He is wholly ill-equipped to lead an ant farm, let alone a country, but the continuous coverage and his massive celebrity will guarantee him several more months of trash-talking. Believe me...I feel your pain.
• For all of my Canadian friends who are basking in the pre-election nonsensical glow that has invaded our collective subconscious, I offer a passionate word of warning. For any of you who think that this Prime Minister and his corrupt band of merry men have been rocked to their core and are going down this October, think again. The demographics are simply not favouring the progressives.....yet. Redrawn electoral districts, a reinvigorated Bloc that is challenging the NDP in Quebec, angst for the Liberals in Atlantic Canada, a still huge Tory stronghold in Alberta that will not be swayed by the provincial election results, all have conspired to keep Sweatered Stevie not only competitive, but even hovering around yet another (gasp!) majority. Combine that with the graft checks coming this week, the despicable attack ads playing ad nauseum, and a very weak Liberal leader, and you have all the makings of another five year nightmare. All is certainly not lost, however. If Canadians truly want change this fall, we simply must do better than 60% turnout at the polls. Voting is the only way to disrupt the narrative, so get to work my fellow Canucks and let's turf this venal asshole.
• It is really difficult to get worked up about the hacking scandal at Ashley Madison. Believe me, I get it. Internet privacy is a real issue and should be on everybody's radar, but how can one not feel a certain amount of schadenfreude watching a business that is actually complicit in helping people hide their bad behaviour, being called out for their own? I think that the funniest thing I heard yesterday was how millions of marriages may be in jeopardy because of these "hacktivists". Really? That's why these marriages are in trouble? That's like saying that broccoli sales are suffering because I ate cauliflower today.
• Bill Cosby is a scumbag. There is no defense left anywhere for anybody trying to rationalize his actions. I'm sad. Not for my distorted childhood memories of comedy, but for the scores of traumatized women who have been left in his abusive wake. I never again want to be reminded of this man.
• My city is in party mode because of the PanAm Games and it has been a blast, but let's be somewhat realistic. Most Torontonians couldn't have cared less about these games up until a week ago, and even then most were fairly pissy about the cost overruns, construction messes, traffic issues, and political pandering. The idea that this city would even entertain the idea of an Olympic bid is pure folly. It is true that my hometown rarely gets anything accomplished without the threat of a major deadline hanging over our heads like the Sword of Damocles, but this is also a city that fought tooth and nail for years over a few pink umbrellas at Sugar Beach. There simply is not enough political will or political capital to expend on a billion dollar boondoggle like the Olympics, so just forget it. Not happening!
• And while we're on the subject of these sporting events, can I just call out the bullshit that is beach volleyball. Why do the men get to wear gym shorts and tank tops while the women are dressed in sports bras and bathing suit bottoms? On a cool rainy day last week, I actually saw the women clad head to toe in black bodysuits with their sports bras overtop. This shit just plays into the entire Serena Williams body discussion. When are we going to take women's sports seriously and not focus on their appearance over their abilities? Please...I don't want to hear one single snide remark from anybody about how smart the marketing is for this sport. When the men show up for their matches topless and in Speedos, we can discuss the marketing plan. Until then, it is just plain sexist nonsense designed to titillate.

Ok. Rant over for today. I feel much better now, do you?

Spring Cleaning

Over the past several weeks, The Husband and I have embarked upon a massive and long-overdue spring cleaning exercise. As we rapidly approach our thirtieth (yes...that's 3-0!) wedding anniversary this June and are now most definitely full-time empty-nesters, it seemed like a good time to sort through the years of accumulated "stuff" that has managed, true to everything George Carlin ever prophesied, to expand to the size of our house.

We decided from the outset that we would downsize the bits and pieces and dispose of the odds and ends. We needed to accept and embrace the idea of binging and purging, as painful as it might be. We needed to adopt a ruthlessness that would go hand in hand with the inherent sentimentality of wanting to save every scrap of paper, weep over every photograph, fawn over every elementary school art project, and relive all of the "good old days."

Some of it has been easy and straightforward. Finally ridding ourselves of over twenty years of paper receipts and tax information was extraordinarily cathartic. As we shlepped close to two hundred pounds of outdated scraps and forms to a local shredding company, it felt as though we were flipping off Revenue Canada, and there was tremendous pleasure in it.

And did I really need to save the ugly seder plate given to us as a wedding gift from a relative whom I couldn't stand then and has been out of my life ever since? Dropping that into the Goodwill pile was a no-brainer.

There is no sentimentality in keeping broken and damaged luggage no matter how wonderful the trips associated with it might have been. And the Halloween costumes that I poorly constructed for the boys (I am not a craft person, nor can I sew) went out with the trash.

But, some of it has been extremely difficult and painful. As I sorted through the certificates, awards, and assorted framed documents that my children earned over the years, I was awash with nostalgia and immediately transported back to school gyms where I watched with immense parental pride as Older Son kicked ass during speech competitions and Younger Son swept up the yearly scholastic prizes. I remembered music concerts and karate tournaments, and I recalled family events, picnics, car rallies, vacations, and I found myself weeping for people who had shared much of this with me and who are now gone and sorely missed. There is an acute self-awareness that goes along with this job that transcends the simple disposal of junk. There is a need to accept that which is firmly rooted in the past, and to move decisively forward through the present into the next phase.

I have noticed that while we have methodically, yet schizophrenically, advanced this project, I have felt moments of deep spiritual cleansing. Could it be that while de-cluttering our physical space, I have de-cluttered my inner space as well? Is it possible that I have finally been able to compartmentalize instances of anger, pain, love, family, illness, and loss? Have I finally been able to shed chunks of emotional baggage that have been weighing me down? I think so.

This is surely an ongoing exercise, both the physical and the spiritual. While I continue to pack up junk, outdated technology, (assorted VHS tapes to anyone who wants them) and memorabilia, I am  finding new comfort and joy in reminiscing and catharsis in the copious tears. And....saving a few special and well-chosen mementos helps the process along nicely.

 Shabbat Candlesticks from both Older Son (left) and Younger Son (right) (Kindergarten projects)

Routine Is Not An Ugly Word

One of the many things that I had hoped to accomplish following my retirement was to dispense with daily schedules. I really wanted to let my life choices dictate the clock and the calendar, rather than allowing the clock and the calendar to dictate my life choices. I certainly didn't have any grand notions of existing within a "Freedom 55"  commercial at the still very youngish age of 52. Me sail away on a schooner? Yah...not with my motion sickness. Instead, I saw the the future as a giant tabula rasa that could only be limited by personal preferences.

Naïveté is a peculiar circumstance.

While it is true that part of my mind knows that there is nothing stopping me from staying in bed until late morning on occasion to luxuriously read the newspaper, another part screams obscenities at me if I laze around for too long. My reason says "Relax. Take your time.", while my body yells "Enough already you lazy arse. Get your shit together and let's get moving." And so it is that I find myself back into an early morning exercise regime. 

While I am comfortably ensconced in The Southern Home, the majority of that activity consists of a lengthy early morning walk, either around the neighbourhood or down on the beach. After all, we have all been told that sitting is the new smoking, and since I have never so much as taken a puff, I figure that I need to get some real value out of my $99.00 FitBit Flex. 

It's funny. Even though my schedule has become much more fluid and flexible, the world around me, both human and natural, obviously still adhere to theirs. During those walks, I have encountered the same school children waiting for their buses, the same landscapers going about their business, the same locals exercising their dogs, and the same customers at Starbucks purchasing their morning caffeine injections. That's normal and to be expected. What was gloriously unexpected was my encountering of the same wildlife, in the same locations, doing exactly the same things every single morning. There is the squirrel in the park who actually responds to my mother's call and expectantly waits for bits to be dropped. (I won't allow her to give in to her better urges simply because he is a squirrel and I consider his northern cousins to be mortal enemies.) There is the large orange iguana who has taken up residence with his family in the mangrove trees abutting the Intracostal near our home. But I am most totally engaged with these White Ibises who cross my path daily.

As you can see, they are unfazed by human involvement and they are just quietly going about their morning routine, which usually consists of breakfast and crossing the street. Note to self: Resist urge to tell Ibis crossing the street joke.

They are awkward looking creatures who are as ubiquitous down here as sparrows are up north, but there is something about their patterns that has me mesmerized. I see them every single morning on my walk, and then miraculously, every single evening at dusk, an entire flock (I'd like to think it is the same birds) flies in perfect formation low in the sky right in front of my balcony. I could swear that they are dipping their wings in a familiar salute to me as they pass. (I have tried on several occasions to grab a photo or video clip, but they simply move too quickly and I am simply not that great a photographer.) I know it seems crazy, but it feels like my own remarkable interspecies moment. I have actually taken to parking myself on the balcony for an hour or so before dusk waiting for my friends to arrive. It is a magical moment that I now joyfully anticipate.

Yesterday as I watched my new friends perform their evening ritual, it struck me that schedules aren't the evil notions that I had made them out to be. Rather, it is how and what we choose to fill them with that truly matters. So far, mine doesn't suck.

Facebook and Tomato Sandwiches

I invited myself to lunch yesterday with a couple of dear friends.

It started when one of the girls posted a picture on social media of her gloriously ripening backyard tomatoes and the rest just took care of itself. It seems that we all have a fondness for fresh tomato sandwiches on challah, made with just a hint of mayonnaise, basil, and some wonderful cheese. (Lactose free, of course.) My mouth is still in saliva overdrive.

I have to say that it was a wonderful diversion from the myriad of "stuff" plaguing us all. For two lovely hours, we just sat in the sun, consumed the aforementioned delicacy, and chatted. Somehow, in the middle of it all we got to talking about the ills of social media, ironically the very thing that made our lunch yesterday possible.

I have been thinking a great deal about the collective misery that we have been witness to this summer. The horrors in the Middle East, the nightmare in Ferguson, the loss of iconic celebrities, ebola, the bullshit being spewed during this Toronto municipal election campaign, and the crappy weather have all made for a rather soul-crushing season. And social media, especially Facebook, has contributed mightily to much of the ugly discourse.

Social media can be a wonderful tool, but it is just that...a tool. It cannot and should never be a substitute for critical thinking or fact checking. Source material of suspect origin has invaded our feeds and what has me concerned is just how many of us have abdicated our social responsibility to the greater good by passing on trash, rumours, innuendo, and spam. It is dangerous and difficult to undo. Author Terry Pratchett once famously wrote, “A lie can run round the world before the truth has got its boots on.” We have a duty to every single person to whom we are connected, to do our homework before carelessly posting and pushing that share button.

I loved the frivolousness of our lunch yesterday. It reminded me of the best parts of social media. Connections. We sometimes lose sight of those connections in our busyness. I am not for a minute advocating dismissing social media from our lives, (there is a genie/bottle metaphor in there somewhere) merely to temper it with a few ripening tomato photos and a stupid status update now and again. It might just lower the ulcer-inducing discourse a wee bit.

A Minor Epiphany

I had a minor epiphany this weekend. Believe me when I tell you that it won't change anybody's life and it certainly won't offer a cure for cancer, but it was a personal realization all the same.

What was this conscious understanding, you might ask?

Well...it was the complete and total comprehension that movies made in the last twenty years or so generally suck shit. This isn't something new nor is it groundbreaking territory for me, but a few random discussions over the Easter weekend has cemented this idea in my psyche.

Now before you get your knickers in a knot, please allow me to expound on my thesis.

Ready?

Quickly and without the use of Google, name the Best Picture Oscar winners for the last five years, including the one that was just handed out in March.

If you were able to name (counting backward) 12 Years a Slave, Argo, The Artist, The King's Speech, and The Hurt Locker then you deserve a prize. I am a trivia nut with a history of demolishing the competition and with a memory like a steel-trap, but even I couldn't remember The Hurt Locker. 

Let's take it back five more years. Did Slumdog Millionaire, No Country for Old Men, The Departed, Crash, or Million Dollar Baby come quickly to mind? No? Well you aren't alone. How about memorable performances from any of those Oscar winners? Does Hillary Swank's Oscar winning turn in Million Dollar Baby or Colin Firth's understated portrayal of George VI in The King's Speech rank up there with the greatest of all time? I would argue quite the opposite. I find it stunning that we live in a time whereby Hillary Swank is the proud possessor of two Oscars (the same number as Jodie Foster, Denzel Washington, Dustin Hoffman, Elizabeth Taylor, and until very recently Meryl Streep) while actors like Peter O'Toole, Robert Redford, Glenn Close, Thelma Ritter, and Richard Burton never took home the gold. It can be debated that she was the best in the years in which she was nominated, but I would argue that the movies in any given year have been extremely mediocre for so very long that we are merely rewarding that which sucks the least.

Now it could very easily be stated that the Oscars are not and have never been a true measure of excellence in the film industry. I would tend to agree with that premise. Any award that rewards a film like Shakespeare in Love over Saving Private Ryan or worse yet, gives its top prize to How Green Was My Valley instead of to Citizen Kane certainly has some explaining to do, but The Oscars are at the very least, a barometre of the tastes and spending habits of the movie-going public. Which brings me to my next question....

What was the last summer movie that you truly enjoyed? I'm not talking about a special-effects extravaganza. I'm talking about an actual film where the dialogue is audible above the Dolby Digital sound rumblings. Oh....and it can't be a remake or a sequel. Ready....go.

Tough, isn't it. This summer we will see the likes of The Amazing Spider Man 2, (which if you are keeping score is actually the fifth Spider Man movie in 15 years) The Protector 2, The Legends of Oz: Dorothy's Return, Wolf Creek 2, (I don't remember Wolf Creek 1) another X-men, another How to Train Your Dragon, another Jump Street, another Transformers, another Planet of the Apes, another Expendables, (the first two were expendable enough) and yet another Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. And this is only a partial list. Do we really expect any of these forthcoming films to make any lasting impression whatsoever?

Which brings me to my question on Facebook this past weekend.

My brother and I have often entertained each other with the following question which I opened up to the masses on my Facebook page. "If you were stuck on a desert island, name three films that you would want to have with you that you could watch over and over again." They don't have to be the best films ever made, but they had to resonate with you enough that you could watch them repeatedly.

The results were fascinating. The answers came from all ages and generational divides; men, women, older and younger. Here are a few things that I learned.

1. There were only a couple of films in the dozens mentioned that were made after 1990. Even the Gen Xers and Millennials chose movies from an earlier time. I think this shows that our young people cannot and will not be bought off by the swill that Hollywood continues to spew. They are much more careful with their disposable income and would rather watch quality.

2. A classic is a classic no matter the generation. So many of my friends had The Princess Bride in their top three. It proves that quality writing and acting is timeless. (The same could be said about Hitchcock flicks.)

3. Musicals may not be the best movies ever made, but they certainly do entertain. Now given that I am a musical nut who probably surrounds herself with other musical nuts, I shouldn't be too surprised that many of my friends had at least one musical on their lists. What is interesting however is the diversity of these films.

4. Some of you are truly twisted. A rabbi friend of mine put Saw I and Saw 2 on his list. I am hopeful that these inclusions were part of a dark joke done at my expense, but I suspect they are true escapism for him, something that seems to be sorely lacking in modern-day films.

5. Watching Groundhog Day over and over and over again is the absolute definition of literalism.

6. Some of you have real trouble following directions. I said three films, not three series of films. (Yes Twin Son's Better Half, I'm looking at you!) Not every Harry Potter film is worthy of consideration. (Chamber of Secrets kind of sucked!) The Godfather III shouldn't even be mentioned in the same breath as the first two.

Now I am not suggesting that The Sound of Music or Mary Poppins should be ranked amongst the best films ever made, nor am I suggesting that they are everybody's cup of tea. I am saying that when asked this question, most people do not put many movies of the past two decades on their lists of all-time favourites and that should be a very loud wake-up call to the people who make these films.

There are some people out there doing quality work. Foreign language films and documentarians are exploring themes and settings that are rarely seen here in North America.  Pixar has been exceptionally brilliant, but even they need to explain the rash of mediocre sequels coming out lately. (Planes. Really??)

I get it. The film industry is a business and businesses are about maximizing profits. But I think that the art has gone missing. My simple and unscientific poll should serve as a conversation starter. Instead of plunking down 10 bucks a person for trash this year, check out some of the films that my friends recommended. I can guarantee you some fine viewing and very few wasted hours.

**If you are not my friend on Facebook and would like to know what some of these movies were, please comment and I will post a cross-section. 

Seeds In My Teeth

I haven't blogged much recently. There are many reasons for my absence but truth be told I really haven't felt much like doing anything. Such is the nature of grief. The energy expended toward getting out of bed in the morning and going about one's customary routine seems to exhaust the daily allowance.

I also haven't blogged in a while simply because I have been attempting to temper my inner curmudgeon. One cannot live by criticism and pithiness alone. But the explosion has been percolating just below the surface since New Year's and I simply cannot hold it in any longer. So, I herewith present an early 2014 list of "The Seeds in my Teeth". (You know the feeling. The irritating bits that you just can't seem to dislodge no matter how hard you try.)

From the world of politics:

1. The Chris Christie bridge story is certainly worth noting for the massive abuse of power and corruption that it encompasses, but this crap has overshadowed a much more important and, frankly life-threatening story. The people of Charleston West Virginia and its surrounding areas have been without safe and clean tap water for over a week due to a massive chemical spill. Water! The well-spring of all life and these poor people have been forced to truck in bottles in order to survive. The cause is still under investigation, but suffice it to say that a company that has profited from deregulation and hasn't been inspected in over twenty years should have a lot to answer for. The environmental damage will take years to assess, but....where is the outrage from the press? With a fat man on the GWB.
2. I do not care one whit about the attempted rehabilitation of Rob Ford. I am happy that he has "found God" and taken responsibility for his own health and well-being, but honestly unless the forty pounds he dropped came from the shit firmly and squarely planted in his brain, this attempt to look good for the election has absolutely no bearing on my opinion of the man. He is still an incompetent lummox who deserves to be turfed come October.
3. And just in case you thought that I am only bashing on the right, the left has earned my wrath as well. I reside in Thornhill, one of the two byelection ridings recently called by Premier Kathleen Wynne. Have you ever heard of two more useless and money-wasting elections than those scheduled for February 13th? Firstly, the victorious candidates will probably only serve for about three months before a general election is foisted upon the citizens of Ontario by the opposition parties. Secondly, how many citizens of these two ridings are just like me and will have to cast absentee ballots due to being away on winter vacations that so many Canadians like to take in February? It is just plain aggravating.

From the world of entertainment:

1. Once again the Golden Globes have proven their obsolescence in award season. The Oscar voters have shown that they are nowhere near in line with the 93 voting members of the Hollywood Foreign Press. Saving Mr Banks, anyone? 
2. Sarah Polley's Stories We Tell and Blackfish are my biggest snubs from the Oscar noms. Documentaries are the best film experiences out there right now, bar none. 
3. Harry Connick Jr. I can't tell you how disappointed I am that you are giving American Idol credibility. Still not convinced that this is anything more than Tiny Talent Time for the new millennium.

From the world of sports:

1. Listening to the crap spewed from this IOC member about the "openly gay delegation" being sent by the US to Sochi makes me wonder why we still care about the Games. Saying that "politics should not interfere with the Olympics" is like saying nudity shouldn't be a part of porn. Politics has ALWAYS been a part of the Games. Think Berlin 1936, Mexico City 1968, Munich 1972, Montreal 1976, Moscow 1980, Los Angeles 1984....shall I go on? If the IOC were intent on removing politics from the scene, perhaps they should allow the athletes to compete as individuals and not as representatives from their countries.

From the world of social media:

1. Ok. This one is really starting to bug me a lot. If you post on Facebook or Twitter, and the posts or quotes are not your original thoughts, please please please give proper attribution. Plagiarism is theft. Intellectual theft. There is nothing worse than passing off somebody else's ideas as your own. And honestly...we can tell. Most of us simply aren't that clever. At least say something like..."I took this from a Twitter follower" or "This gem was sent to me by a friend". It has become a true pet peeve of mine. 

So there you have it. I will try to curb the inclination to rag on the world, but sometimes...I just gotta do it.

I Don't Get It

I promise that today's post is a total coincidence.

I had been collecting notes for this particular piece for over a week when suddenly I read the following on a friend's Facebook status.

"Name three things you will never, ever, ever understand."

Oh my God! I was going to write about that. Honestly!

I want my friend to know that I swear I am not trying to plagiarize from her or attempting to steal her idea or thunder. I guess the cosmos is sending both of us some strange-assed juju to have so wanted this topic put out in the ether.

I have been spending a considerable amount of time lately trying to figure out the how and why of certain occurrences in the universe. I mean, c'mon. I live in the Greater Toronto Area. If these last few weeks and months haven't given tremendous rise to the "I will never understand this shit" mantra, nothing will. But aside from the obvious thoughts of why do bad things happen to good people, I thought that I would lighten the mood slightly with a few things in our modern world that I will never truly understand.

1. The popularity and celebrity worship of William Shatner. If this makes me a bad Canadian, then so be it. I simply cannot stand watching the man. If you want to see how a real Starship Enterprise captain behaves, just look at Jean-Luc Picard. Now there's leadership with sex appeal.

2. Lining up in sub-zero temperatures to purchase the latest and greatest _________________. Usually we are talking about fan boys here, but is it really necessary to camp out in front of some megastore for days in advance just to be one of the first in the world to play with some newfangled electronic device? Will waiting a few weeks make you any less a geek? (And I ask that question lovingly as a parent and spouse of geeks who never camped out for their video games or phones.)

3. The excitement over the return of the McRib. Every year this elusive sandwich seems to have North American fast-food palates all atwitter. Now I realize that I am speaking from the perspective of a vegetarian, but why would anybody want to eat anything that starts out looking like this?

Doesn't it remind you of the childhood board game Operation?

4. Slasher movies. I will never quite comprehend spending ten bucks or more to watch some psycho in hockey gear machete everybody in town. Please do not compare these films with suspense flicks or dramas. Hitchcock was a genius and even I can see the artistic merit in something like Aliens. I am talking about any gory and grotesque movie that has a sequel number approaching double digits. Yes Saw 7, I'm talking to you.

5. Chronic lateness. I get it. Everybody has a bad day or two, but to be continually tardy shows an incredible lack of self-awareness and it is unbelievably selfish to all of those affected by it. And believe me, others are ALWAYS affected by it. Whether it be the patrons at the theatre whom you disturb, the coworkers left waiting to begin a long scheduled meeting, or friends just left hanging, a persistent lack of punctuality is unfathomable to me. Buy a watch and use it.

These are a few of the things in my world that I will simply never get. Please feel free to add your own in the comments section. I am truly interested.

A Few Thinks I Think

I know that you have all been waiting with absolute bated breath on my opinions on the latest and sleaziest scandals in cesspool politics. So without further delay.....here we go.

I think....that Rob Ford is a horrible mayor. Not because I truly believe that he is a doped out crackhead and not because he is a boorish oaf with the social graces of a baboon. Believe me, we have had politicians on both sides of the border and on all sides of the political spectrum who have been just as messed up and just as boorish. No, I think that Rob Ford is a horrendous mayor because he simply has no skills in the art of compromise. Municipal politics is at its core about the art of the deal and Mayor Ford is totally inept at the game. It is almost like council is playing chess and he is using checkers' pieces. Budget issues, transit issues, casino issues, waterfront issues...the mayor has been dealt defeat after defeat even when he had the support of many in the "mushy middle", and even when his approval ratings were so high as to intimidate many on council into perhaps supporting his positions for fear of electoral retribution. Rob Ford is a horrible mayor because he allows his successes and his agenda to be obscured by his personal foibles and he has no leadership abilities at all.

I think....that bullying is not leadership.

I think....that Rob Ford is the mayor and that we should stop caring or listening to what Doug Ford says or thinks unless he is your councillor from Etobicoke.

I think....that part of the job of mayor is to be the public face of the city both within its borders and to the world at large. It does matter when the mayor shows up to a function dishevelled, unprepared, unschooled, and uttering incoherent and possibly insulting statements. It reflects badly on our city and worse, on the people who voted for him. For those of you who think that the only job that the mayor has is to watch out for you tax dollars and build you a subway, I would counter that if this is the case then we should stop inviting the mayor to city functions and we should stop expecting him/her to be the city's number one cheerleader.

I think....that people should stop comparing the mayor's bad behaviour to other politician's bad behaviour. It is a straw man's argument that obscures the real problems facing this mayor and this city.

and just for the record...

I think.... that Dalton McGuinty's cancelling of the gas plants was disgraceful, disgusting, extraordinarily wasteful, and politics at its worst. I also think that the IRS scandal south of border is repulsive even though I am a strong opponent of the Tea Party and it's ideals, and I think that the AP spying scandal is an infringement on a free and independent press. Just in case you all thought that my Rob Ford rantings were simply a product of my liberal-leaning views, I take these positions as a matter of course about the cynical and underhanded manner in which politics, all politics, is conducted these days.

I think....that the Toronto Star jumped the gun in publishing the video story. I understand that they were (in their minds) preempted by Gawker, but even though they had been working for months on the story and had two excellent investigative journalists on the job, in my opinion they simply didn't yet have the goods. That isn't to say that the recording (can we please stop calling it a tape. So 1980s!) doesn't exist or that the story isn't accurate, I'm just positing the theory that without Gawker, The Star might have waited until they had more ducks in a row.

And while we are at it....

I think....that people should stop asking reporters if they could bear up to the same scrutiny as the mayor. Who gives a shit? It is irrelevant. Reporters aren't public officials being paid by the taxpayers. If a reporter shows up to work tanked, it is up to his/her boss to determine job action, not the general public. But in the case of the mayor, the general public is the mayor's boss. The comparison is utter nonsense.

And I think....that politicians in general should stop blaming the media for all of their troubles. Is there media bias? Maybe. But, it is the media's job to follow our elected officials and it is the media's job to report it all...good and bad. If politicians want better and friendlier relationships with the media, a good first step might be (oh...I don't know...) to talk to them and answer their questions straight up and forthrightly. In the absence of real communication, the press and the public are making up their own versions of the events. In the words of the great Aaron Sorkin through his characters in The American President:

Lewis Rothschild: They want leadership. They're so thirsty for it they'll crawl through the desert toward a mirage, and when they discover there's no water, they'll drink the sand.

President Andrew Shepherd: Lewis, we've had presidents who were beloved, who couldn't find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flashlight. People don't drink the sand because they're thirsty. They drink the sand because they don't know the difference.

I think....that any politician who thinks that they aren't constantly being photographed, recorded, tweeted, or written about should seriously consider a different line of work. This is the nature of 21st century politics and public life. Deal with it.

I think....that while I am loathe to admit it, I do not believe in a recall system for our elected officials that falls short of a criminal act. I agree that this mayor has fallen well short of expectations in his job, and I also agree that if he were in the private sector his ass would have been toast a long time ago, but that simply isn't the same for a democratically elected public official. Recalls (and impeachments) have created havoc in the United States and are often used for the most partisan and baseless reasons. The bar for evicting a mayor should be high. That said....I do think that we are almost at that bar.

I think....that a non-denial denial is not a denial.

I think....that a non-apology apology is not an apology.

I think....that ideologues on both sides of the political spectrum are hurting the cause of real progress and real change.

I think....that Rob Ford shouldn't be concerned about a challenge from his left, but rather a challenge from his right. I believe that the backroom conservative money people are desperately trying to find a candidate to run in 2014 that will be credible, intelligent, and can push forward the agenda without the circus of Rob Ford. I can't believe that anybody actually believes that we will see any high profile conservatives step forward to endorse Mr. Ford next year and come up with cash for the coffers. Tim Hudak will be AWOL this summer at the Ford family barbecue as will Prime Minister Harper and Finance Minister Flaherty. They simply cannot afford the political flak. My money is on a high profile person with conservative bona fides stepping forward to take on the mayor next year. And....

I think....that this person will win.

So there you have it. Remember. MY OPINION. If you do not agree, ok. But if you do choose to comment I ask for you to be polite, not snarky, not sanctimonious, and please show some intelligence. If you cannot adhere to those rules, I will simply flush your comment. My space, my rules.

From the Haze of Anaesthesia

I took The Husband to the oral surgeon this morning. Following a horrendous experience with a dead tooth, damaged nerve, and a subsequent extraction, he had an implant inserted into the hole where the tooth once lived. This isn't the first time that he has had this procedure, so both of us are experienced in the method and the aftercare. I went along for the ride because given the fact that he was placed under a general anaesthetic, driving himself would have been a criminal offence and cause for a flunked sobriety test.

Aside from absolutely freezing in the waiting room, (it is really cold here today and the office air conditioning was still on) the procedure went like clockwork. After it was over, the nurse came to pry my frozen butt from the chair and led me into the recovery room where The Husband was just coming  down off of the juice. Call me a miserable wife, but I always get a kick out of this time alone with him. He is absolutely goofy and loopy and he says the craziest things that he never remembers sober. Today was no exception. And so I thought I'd share a few of today's gems with the masses. (In light of the continual mess swirling around Toronto City Hall, I would like to offer the following qualification. This is what hard drugs do to a very intelligent and soft-spoken man. Imagine what they could do to our loveable Mayor MacCheese. So kids, a warning....don't do crack!)

• As I first walked into recovery, The Husband, all droopy-eyed and puffy in the cheeks, said in a very loud and slurring voice "Take off your shirt, I want to play!" That's my guy!
• He was connected to a heart monitor that was fastened to his index finger. Unbeknownst to either me or the nurse, he pulled it off causing an alarm to sound. He told me "Fix the radio. I want to hear Q107."
• Lying on the table and drooling blood, he decided that it was a great time to take out his phone. Of course he couldn't see anything because he wasn't wearing his glasses, but he proceeded to magnify his mail and read the entire e-signature from a friend, complete with address and phone number. Why this was urgent, I will never know.
• After the nurse sat him up, he decided that just sitting there didn't provide him with enough distraction. "I'm bored," he declared. "Get me a toy!" He then grabbed the sphygmomanometer (blood pressure cuff for all of you luddites) and started squeezing it....hard!
• The nurse came in to brief me on the aftercare. He actually thought that she was talking to him and kept answering her with the same non-sequetor after each instruction. "Scotch." It is kind of nice to know that at least he is consistent whether plastered or sober.
• And just to complete the experience, as I helped him on with his jacket he grabbed my breast. It's a guy thing. I suppose I should be happy that it was me who helped him instead of the nurse.

The meds are now wearing off and he has gone from goofy to cranky. It's ok. For a brief moment in time, The Husband could actually have pulled off a stand-up routine.

What to Do When the Lights Go Out?

What is the one thing in this world that you could not possibly live without? Now don't get all spiritual on me. I'm not talking about the obvious stuff like food, shelter, clothing, love, family, health, companionship etc. Those things are givens and go without saying. I am delving into the extraordinarily selfish and materialistic side of all of us. The one thing that when push comes to shove you couldn't be without. Is it your car? Your TV? Maybe it is your phone? For me, there is simply no debate. The one thing that I cannot stand to be without is power. Not power in a political or family dynamic sense, but real plug-in-the-wall, the fuses are all working, don't stick your finger in the socket power. Nothing sets me more on edge and causes me more anxiety than a power outage.

At the very moment that I am putting these words to paper, (yes paper! With an actual pen!) I am suffering through yet another blackout up here in the North Jewish Ghetto. Weather related power outages occur with some regularity in my neighbourhood due to the mid-Twentieth Century technological idiocy of constructing above ground power lines next to mature trees. Whenever a major storm happens, winter or summer, Mother Nature sees fit to drop a limb, branch, or trunk onto said electrical-bearing connections, leaving half of this part of the city in the dark and cold. Today's April nastiness is no exception, and I have been left to putter in the eerie stillness that is my house for the last hour and a half.

Think about all that is dependent on power. The lights are the obvious, but modern technology has tethered us inextricably to all of those coursing volts. I can't make a phone call unless I use my cell phone, which I can't use too much lest the battery drains and I cannot recharge it because I have no power. (We do have an analogue phone with a hard-wired jack that we keep handy for these situations, but for some reason it isn't working right now either. We think that the cable guys might have messed with it during their last visit. Of course, one only discovers these things during a crisis!) I can't cook. The oven is out, as is the microwave. I don't want to open the fridge or freezer too often because I am trying to keep the food within as fresh as possible. I do have a gas stove, so that is something. If we are still in the dark come dinnertime we certainly won't starve, but it will definitely be somewhat more challenging.

It is starting to get cold in here. I have been reading with some amusement, some Facebook statuses from friends in the south who are complaining about the heat and their lack of air conditioning. I'll take being hot over being cold any day. Wanna trade?

I had just finished working out when the lights went out. I haven't yet been able to shower, mostly because our bathroom is rather dark and I am a bit concerned for my safety. That, and the total vanity that goes along with not being able to dry my hair. I am not usually high maintenance.....except when it comes to my hair. No blow dryer equals no public appearance.

I can't do housework. No laundry or vacuuming. Small blessings? I can't spring clean the closets which has been on my to-do list. Too dark. I need a flashlight to read and all of my electronic diversions such as computer, recorded music, television, Internet and the like are all power-dependent. Nope. Being without power is truly a first world 21st Century problem.

We have done this to ourselves. We have become totally power-dependant. Our grandparents never seemed to freak out when the lights when out. What did they do to keep themselves busy in these situations? Could it be that they actually talked to one another?? They inquired after each other's well-being and expressed interest into what they were doing? Or maybe, they just enjoyed each other's company. Stunning!

I am not usually a nostalgic person. But I do admit to being a bit freaked out by how much I am at the mercy of Power Stream. Maybe some things were actually better in the "good old days." Or maybe I just need to simplify my life a bit more. I have had my eye on a really nice throwback rotary phone I recently saw on Ebay. Too bad I can't order it until the power is restored.

Posted with Blogsy

A Really Good Friday

I have spent the better part of today staring at the morass that is my backyard pool. As the snow and ice continue to melt off in the relative heat (?) of a late March sun, the putrid brown water that has replaced them is a certain sign that spring is on the way. And with that ever-increasing pond scum comes the surest symbol of the changing season....the annual arrival of the mallards.

Over the last number of years, The Husband has taken to awakening me in the early morning hours whenever he catches the first glimpses of our duck friends, and today was no exception. The returning couple arrived with a male friend in tow. A truly unusual occurrence for mallards who mate for life and don't like to introduce sparring partners into their relationships. If they form a threesome, it is most often two girls and a guy so that he can feel like some pumped-up lead in a porno flick. So when we saw the extra green head this morning, I couldn't help but to cheer wildly and with increased vigour for my feminist fowl friend.

The odd thing is, that as of this writing some 5 hours since we first spotted them in the pool, they are still here. And while the jealous boyfriend fought off his tenacious rival some time ago, the happy couple seems to have buried roots in my backyard. They are happily paddling, occasionally snoozing, quacking in good spirits, and seemingly searching for an adequate location to nest. It is as if they are test-driving the space. A condo for canards?

I have spent the better part of my day photographing them, staring at them with awe and wonder, and pondering how I might increase their happiness and comfort in an effort to get them to hang around just a little bit longer. I have found the entire experience very zen and extraordinarily calming. There is something so easy and relaxing about enjoying the minute and short glimpses of true natural beauty that living in the suburbs affords us. I have loved every second of this incredible Good Friday.

God is in These Details

So often, we are advised to try not to obsess over the minutiae in our lives. Stress kills, we are told. Relax. Take a load off. Stop and smell the roses. Entire books have been written on the subject to aid us in our (more often than not) vain attempts to step back from the pressures, and to instead show us how to live according to one-line, pop culture, fortune cookie slogans suitable for Facebook posting. But, what if instead of trying to identify all the "stuff" that act as stress-inducers, we took the time to relish that which gives us contentment....the small things that make us happy. I realize that it sounds a bit cliche, but philosophical introspection goes hand in hand with the looming "golden birthday". Here are a few of life's niceties that just make me happy and fill out my day.

1. Celestial Seasonings Green and White Tea with honey, lemon, and ginseng. The stuff is pure magic for the soul. It warms me from the inside out and just helps my day begin with quiet pleasure. While I am certain that the caffeine and the ginseng play a huge part in shifting the chemical balance of my body when I enjoy a cup, (or more) it is a luxury of which I am more than willing to partake.  
2. Hearing a song that I love on the Broadway channel in my car, jacking up the volume, singing at the top of my lungs, and fantasizing that I could be Patti, Barbra, Idina, Bernadette, or Audra. (If you need to Google these names, for shame!!) It is fun to watch the strange reactions from other drivers at red lights. Sometimes in my job, I forget how much joy I actually derive from singing. OnBroadway reminds me of that daily.
3. A phone call from my boys. It isn't every day, and I swear that this isn't a typical Jewish mother thing. I am not complaining one whit about their devotion, but the call that comes with no agenda at all other than to just to say hi, is a delight. And....they do it all the time. Where did I go right?
4. Not wearing a bra. Don't get excited. There will be no public viewing. I am, after all, sporting half-century old puppies. But the liberation that I feel when removing that horrible contraption (that must have seen its nascent origins developed sometime during the glory days of the Spanish Inquisition) after a long day, and slipping into a large oversized sweatshirt is unbelievable.  If any woman, no matter her cup size, tells you that she loves wearing a bra and you buy into that sack of doggie doodoo, well.....let's just say that the words Florida and swampland spring immediately to my mind as possible investment opportunities for you. We women do what we have to do, but trust me....Thanks for freeing the slaves, Mr. Lincoln. 
5. The sun. If the sun is shining my day is better by default. Nobody wakes up in the morning wishing for grey and dull unless they are a drive test examiner. The sun is life affirming, even in the winter. We may have devolved to lives of indoor hermitage, but we were meant to experience the sun. 

Add your own to the comments. Life is so much more enjoyable when we notice that sometimes God is in the details.

A Few Words and Phrases I have Come to Hate

An old friend used to post a list of words that she hates. The words were mostly onomatopoetic in nature and she did it for laughs, which she received in spades. She has updated it sporadically over the years and it never fails to elicit tremendous guffaws around here from both The Husband and me. Lately I have come to realize that there are a myriad of words and expressions that I too have come to detest. They may not have the lyrical cache of my friend's list, but they are a constant raspberry seed in my molar.

1. Job Creators. This is a bullshit creation by bullshit creators-politicians.
2. Taxpayers. It seems to me that we are all citizens who share in the common good, regardless of the amount of taxes we pay, and we deserve the same protection and consideration by our elected officials. Stop reducing me to the lowest common denominator. 
3. Talking Points. How about trying honesty for a change.
4. Talking Heads. As opposed to those heads that don't talk? 
5. Political Strategists. If ever there was an oxymoronic expression, this one is it!
6. Stump Speech. Did you know that candidates actually used to cut down a tree and stand on a stump to deliver these oratorical nightmares? Today, the reporters who cover these bland regurgitations positively drool if the politicos change even a comma.
7. Transit Plan. Torontonians know just what I am talking about. Just build the f*#@ing thing already and stop with the plans and studies.
8. Left Wing Socialist/Right Wing Fascist. Can't we disagree on policy without all of the ridiculous labels. Consensus is hard enough to achieve without dealing with the name calling.
9. Autotune. This technology should be banned outright. 
10. Arm Problems. My beloved Blue Jays currently have 7 (yes, lucky number 7) pitchers on the DL with major arm problems. One has to wonder if they have a contract to build Dr. Andrews' summer home.

This is a preliminary list. Feel free to add your own.

Random Thoughts for a Random Day

It has been a strangely quiet and eerily lazy day. While I attempt to keep myself occupied in one location, events elsewhere are causing my mind to wander. With that strangeness fully implanted in all of your subconsciouses, here are just a few of the bizarre notions that have taken over my cerebral cortex in a grotesque attempt at diversion.


1. Two weeks after the hardware was given out in Hollywood, it is almost impossible to find an Oscar winning or nominated film playing at any mainstream theatre down here in South Florida. Instead we are inundated with mediocrity complete with forgettable titles such as Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, Journey 2: The Mysterious Island, and Safe House. The new Lorax on steroids is playing at 3 separate theatres in the same complex. All the while, television and print ads are touting "the first blockbuster of 2012". It just might be me, but I wonder if Hollywood went back to making movies rather than trying to create blockbusters, if the artistic value of the modern film might be taken more seriously.

2. In the wake of the Rush Limbaugh "non-apology" apology to the women of the world, it got me thinking once again as to why it is so difficult for so many to say the words "I'm sorry" with true conviction. According to Tom Jacobs writing at Miller-McCune, these types of apologies tend not to play well. He cites a 2008 article by Zohar Kampf.

One type of pseudo-apology downplays the transgressor’s degree of responsibility. Kampf identifies five variations on this theme, noting that a wrongdoer can: 1) apologize while undermining the claim that he offended someone; 2) apologize for the outcome but not for the act; 3) apologize for the style but not for the essence; 4) apologize for a specific component of the offense but not for the entire occurrence; and 5) apologize while using syntactic and lexical means to downgrade his responsibility.” The latter category includes referring to an offensive action as a “mistake,” which effectively minimizes guilt.

I recently heard somebody say (I'm sorry, the exact person escapes me) that if one uses the words "if" or "then" in their supposed mea culpas, it is not a true expression of remorse. For example: any apology that begins with this poorly chosen phrase, "If my words or actions offended anybody, then....." cannot be true repentance. Keep this in mind the next time you are the one in line to apologize.

3. I took a slice out of my right heel yesterday when the leg of an old metal chair came down awkwardly onto the side of my foot. Not only has it been incredibly painful to take each and every step, but it is extraordinarily difficult to bandage and keep wrapped due to the odd placement of the cut. I am walking with a sort of out turned pigeon gait limp. The good news? My stalled workout routine which has been dormant for weeks due to a lingering cold and asthma after-effects, has once again been put out onto another short hiatus. I really am starting to wonder if my myriad of ailments over the past few weeks have been accidental or purposeful happenstance designed to keep me off of the torture devices of the gym. It's going to really hurt when I finally get back into it. Karma's way of punishing me for laziness.

4. Purim. Great baked goods, wonderful shtick, booze (if you're into that sort of thing), transvestitism ( if you're into that sort of thing), and the worst Jewish music ever written. Sorry to all of my friends and colleagues in the industry. We need to do better when it comes to Purim. Musically-it kind of sucks!!

5. I think that I will end on a philosophical note. I posted this on Facebook this weekend. "When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything You gave me'."-Erma Bombeck.

It has been that kind that kind of a weekend.

Time for Toronto

As I prepare to return to the land of my birth later today, I have been spending some time ruminating over my most recent sojourn to The Southern Home. Contained below are some basic thoughts.

Things I WILL NOT miss about South Florida

• The increasingly aggravating chihuahua across the hall. Deathtraps have begun to invade my dreams and I am concerned that I might act upon these primal emotions.
• The slamming of doors in the halls of the condo.
• The ridiculousness of people who dress their dogs in tutus, feed them from restaurant tables, and push them around in infant strollers. Oh my God!! They're dogs!
• Publix on Hallandale Beach Boulevard! A gang fight just waiting to happen-walkers vs wheelchairs!
• The Hollywood Circle. A piece of roadway designed by a sadistic bastard who obviously bases projects with visions of hell on earth dancing in his head!
• The tragic-comedy that is the Republican primary process and the myriad of ads and robocalls accompanying it. We all know that Romney will be the last out of the clown car, so just get on with it and leave us all with some degree of peace.
• My defective and rather noisy washing machine that seems to be planning an escape route all its own.
• The f*#% you attitude that is so pervasive amongst so many down here-whether they be on the roads, in a store, in a restaurant, or at the beach. I understand the principles of individual liberty upon which this country was founded, but when your liberties trample upon mine I think that there is a problem. No, it isn't ok to make a left-hand turn from the right-hand lane directly in front of me. No, it isn't ok to cut in line to avoid the twelve people behind you and then swear like a sailor when called out on your behaviour. No, it isn't ok to honk your horn at the old woman with a walker who couldn't navigate the crossing in the time provided. No, it isn't ok to skunk somebody else's parking spot. No, it isn't ok to walk directly in front of me at the store and stand there figuring out what you want without any regard to my continued presence. Some civility training and basic manners reminders would go a long way.

But, all of that aside.....I have come to understand that this stuff is a small price to pay for.....

Things that I WILL miss about South Florida

• The world existing in true colour, rather than the many shades of grey so apparent at home during the winter months.
• The warm temperatures and soft breezes, rather than the mercury dipping lower than a high school boy's pants and winds that chill from the inside out.
• Spending time with my parents.
• The simplicity I have attached to life down here.
• Reading. I read voraciously down here.
• On Demand television. I have to say as a Bell TV customer, we miss that at home.
• Internet shopping. Canada is still playing a huge catch-up game with the US on internet commerce. It is easy, inexpensive, and really fast down here.
• The dolphins and manatees that have been visiting with increasing regularity. They constantly remind me of my love for animals, my love for the oceans, (even though given my seasick history, I probably shouldn't be travelling on them) and that when I watch these glorious creatures I feel heaven and earth touch.
• My lack of socks and shoes.
• My lack of a coat. 

I look forward to seeing my Canadian friends soon and I look forward to my timely return to my Southern Home.

My Possessions Require GPS Homing Devices

I have misplaced my hot water bottle. Or I should say my house has eaten my hot water bottle. And my white oxford blouse. And my cream coloured fleece sweatshirt. I have come to the conclusion that houses gets hungry from time to time and the beasts need to be fed. Rather than politely asking for snacks of extra home heating fuel on chilly November mornings or demanding the odd wood burning fire, houses instead gorge themselves on random possessions left carelessly about. A single sock from the dryer. A grocery list meticulously created and left on the kitchen counter. A hot water bottle, a white oxford blouse, and a cream coloured fleece sweatshirt. A sort of catnip for the domicile. Most of the time the house has completely digested the articles before we even realize that they have gone missing. But every so often we might be able to save the odd one with a bit of cleaning and some careful organization. It was this desire to rescue my personal possessions that drove The Husband and me to clean out our closet this morning.

I should say that the two of us have managed to share a comfortably large walk-in closet (of course it is never large enough!) in our bedroom for much of the last sixteen years, mostly because my overflow clothing has found homes in the spare bedroom closet and what was once the Oldest Son's bedroom built-ins. I am fairly meticulous about weeding through the chaff of old clothes and I like to keep my clothing neat and organized. The Husband prefers to wear what is on the top of the nearest pile, has stuff he never knew existed, and hasn't done a thorough sorting in almost five years. In a desperate attempt to update his wardrobe, clean out the crap, and hopefully find the undigested items listed above, the two of us went to work on the old clothes. Two hours (he says two weeks and is still whining that I ruined his Sunday) and seven large overstuffed garbage bags later, we are ready for trips to Goodwill to dump the old and ill-fitting, and to the mall to procure a few new items. Our closet has never looked better. Hopefully we can maintain the order and organization for more than a week. The hot water bottle? Nary a sign. The white oxford blouse? Gone with the wind. The cream coloured fleece sweatshirt? A homemade snack for an obviously ravenous and underfed domicile.

I have a suggestion for all of the techies out there searching for the next million dollar idea. Microscopic GPS homing devices that we can attach to all of our personal items so that they can be easily retrieved. My iPhone has one now, why not my cream coloured fleece sweatshirt? Imagine the possibilities. Never again will we have to play fry cook to an overindulged and overly sated abode. Just push a button and a signal will tell you where every article is located. Find that sucker before the house's digestive juices permanently destroy it.

Ok. I know I sound wacky, but I want my stuff back and I am tired of playing the part of daft imbecile moronically searching in vain. Homeowners of the world unite. Renew the commitment to keep our stuff out of the guts of gluttonous dwellings. Either that or help me out with my obviously f@#*ed up memory!

The Muppets Are Coming!

Something a bit lighter for hump day.

The Muppets are coming and I couldn't be more excited. I have always been a huge fan. I still have a scrapbook that I started from the earliest days of the Muppet Show back in the mid-seventies. Jim Henson was at his hottest back then and at that time he graced the cover of every major magazine. I still have many of those. I own original plush dolls of Kermit, Miss Piggy, Animal, Scooter and Fozzie.

I have all of the original episodes of the show on DVD, have seen all of the movies, and own several books. Two dear friends recently reminded me of a birthday cake that they designed for me in the shape of Miss Piggy. I wasn't a kid, either. I was 18. I used to have several Miss Piggy pins and stickers on my guitar strap. The only reason that I removed them was because they broke. I still have former students stop me and ask me where Miss Piggy disappeared to. Geek? Of course I am! But you knew that already, didn't you?

So when Disney announced a rebooted movie with all of my beloved original characters, I took notice. I can't wait for the release next week and I do plan to be in a theatre revelling in Muppetmania very soon. Of course along with the movie comes the inevitable Muppet merchandise. Kermit mugs and Piggy lingerie. T-shirts galore! (I personally love this one!) A whole host of Muppet paraphernalia. But the best product tie-in of all comes from nail polish maker OPI.  In honour of the new theatrical release they have developed an entire line of Muppet colours.

With names like "Fresh Frog of Bel Air", "Warm and Fozzie", and "Getting Miss Piggy with It" these nail colours are destined to become classics. (Seriously-how much do I love this!!)

The guitar player in me usually prevents painting my nails. It seems like such a waste of time to polish only to have them chip and crack with my next chord or strum. Not so now. I am headed out today in search of the Muppet collection and plan on a painting party. I mean, really! Who could resist decorating oneself with "The Rainbow Connection".


The Muppet Movie opens next week on November 23rd. 

Speed it Up Already!

It is one of the remarkable experiences of aging that when we are young we wish that time would hurry up and when we get there we often wish that it would slow down. I hear it all the time. "Where did this year go?" or "Boy how time has flown." We are inundated with platitudes like "Stop and smell the roses" and frankly, for the most part I am with them. I am living the cliches. It really does seem like yesterday that I was changing diapers and now I look up to grown men. I ache more in the morning, am continually devising clever ways to cover my greying roots and creviced laugh lines, and I definitely struggle harder to keep off the winter layer of insulation. Thirty years has passed and honestly I hardly noticed. I wish like most of us that I could have lived it in slow motion. At least I have the highlight reel of videos and photographs.

But then there are the times that I honestly wish I could speed up the universe. These are the times when I don't want to live in the moment, but rather get past it all as quickly as possible so that I can move onto the more important things that life has to offer-like the roses!

• I absolutely loathe standing in line at the check-out counter at the grocery store. In fairness, some stores have figured out how to streamline the experience with automated computer check outs and easy to carry storage bins instead of grocery bags, but all in all the entire escapade is an exercise in wasted time. I hate it when cashiers examine my purchases. "Oh cool-Tempe! How do you cook that?" I hate the cashier who seems to think that I have all day to watch her pack my bags. I hate it when customers in front of me act stunned when they realize that they actually have to pay for their purchases and suddenly go rooting around in their pockets or purses for exact change. I hate the coupon clipper who probably spent $5.00 in gasoline to drive to the store in order to save .05¢ on their purchase. Speed it up already and let me get on with my life.
• Do political campaigns really need to drag on for as long as they do? The Republican contenders for the presidential nomination will spend up to two years, millions of dollars, endless debates, thousands of robo-calls, and a lot of wasted oxygen in order to be anointed the last person standing to challenge President Obama. Given the low level of talent available in this clown car, it might be quicker if they all just thumb-wrestled each other with a "winner take all" scenario prevailing. I can't imagine a greater waste of time. Get on with it already and let us all get on with our lives.
• Do you know anybody who says to their dentist "Please slow down so that I might embrace this moment?" How about to their physicians during a particularly invasive examination? No I think that these are certainly times that could use a little kick in the ass.
• Don't you hate it when driving home late at night, you are the only vehicle at the stoplight and the damn thing takes forever to turn green? Don't tell me that you haven't at least have been tempted to run the red. Why can't the city better time these intersections at off-hours so that one doesn't have to wait for what seems like an eternity all the while burning precious gasoline and life moments? Hurry up already.
• There are two minutes left in the game and your team is up by 1. The other team is coming on like gangbusters, shots and bodies are flying everywhere, your heart is racing at such a dangerously high pace that it feels explosive inside your chest cavity, and yet the seconds tick down as if they were hours. If ever we wanted time to disappear, it is during these incidents. I mean, really. How is it possible for anybody to score a goal in 0.1 seconds? Get with it!

Intellectually I know that time passes at the same rate every day, every year. It is all in our perceptions of events that dictates whether it is passing quickly or slowly. We want to savour the extraordinary and bypass the mundane. I suppose that the answer to the conundrum of this temporal tempest is to recognize when the mundane is actually extraordinary and when the extraordinary is merely mundane. Maybe then we won't feel as though our lives are wasted or passing us by.

The Lost Art of Saying Yes

I recently completed Tina Fey's wonderfully acerbic memoir Bossypants. If you haven't yet made the time to read it, I highly recommend that you do. It is wonderfully written, laugh out loud funny in spots, and the kind of read that we all need once in a while to escape the dreary and drab. Tina Fey is anything but dreary and drab. One section of the book is entitled The Rules of Improvisation That Will Change Your Life and Reduce Belly Fat. Tina writes:

"The first rule of improvisation is AGREE. Always agree and Say YES." She goes on. "Now obviously in real life you're not always going to agree with everything everyone says. But the Rule of Agreement reminds you to 'respect what your partner has created' and to at least start from an open-minded place. Start with a YES and see where that takes you.
As an improviser, I always find it jarring when I meet someone in real life whose first answer is no. 'No, we can't do that.' 'No, that's not in the budget.' 'No, I will not hold your hand for a dollar'. What kind of way is that to live?" 

Brilliant, yes? I have come to discover lately that our lives are filled with people who say no and attempt to diminish our possibilities. Politicians are forever telling us what can't be done rather than what can be done. They sit in their ivory towers, fully divorced from those they claim to serve, wed to untenable positions of dogma that can never allow for a YES. We sit in business meetings and school meetings and club meetings and there is always at least one soul saying no. I understand pragmatism and cynicism as well as anybody, but from where will the next great idea be hatched if we are forever living in the negative? Where are our out of the box thinkers? Where will the next Tina Fey come from if she is constantly told "Oh no you can't"?

Let's try a little experiment. Let's try to work with the possible. Let's sit in our next meeting and use Yes as the default before we rip proposals apart. I am not naive. Not all ideas have merit and not all thoughts are brainstorms, but won't it be fun to ferret out the possibilities? Yes is a hell of lot more fun than no and frankly it makes the work far more interesting.

Next to my treadmill I have put up posters of some of Claude Monet's greatest work. (I love the Impressionists and viewing these images during a workout is quite calming, but I digress.) One of my favourites is Cliff Walk at Pourville painted in 1882. The Husband and I had the pleasure of viewing the original several years ago at The Art Institute of Chicago.

I am absolutely certain that hundreds of painters have been to this location and painted this exact spot, but none like Monet. He saw a different perspective, a different angle, a different vision. He saw the potential and he created art. We may not be Monet, but let's say yes to the possibilities and restart our creativity. The world desperately needs it.

I ❤ Geeks!

Ok! I admit it. I am a geek. I am attracted to geeks, I married a geek, I spawned geeks, I am the progeny of geeks, and I have geeky friends. I need everybody to know that I believe labelling you a geek is a massive compliment and one that I do not throw around lightly. I love the intelligence of geeks, the varied interests, and the social awkwardness that we have all been through, shared and overcome. I would lay odds that many of you are geeks as well, but have never really taken the time to embrace your inner geekdom. So here we go with surest ways to know that you are part of that great universal geek fellowship.

• You know you are a geek when the most senior citizen members of your family are "early-adopters" of all things Apple.
• You know you are a geek when you attend a lovely Sunday brunch with all of your women friends and spend much of the time arguing the merits of superhero movies over the Twilight series. 
• You know you are a geek when you have spent some period of time constructing a Millennium Falcon, Death Star, or Starship Enterprise out of Lego.
• You know you are a geek when you follow casting announcements and trailers for the new Batman movies closer than you follow federal politicians.
• You know you are a geek when this becomes normal behaviour.                                             

• You know you are a geek when you revel in March 14 being Pi day (3.14) or that November 01/11 was Binary Day (110111).
• You know you are a geek when you begin to compare yourself and your family members to characters on the Big Bang Theory. Just for your edification-I am Bernadette, Younger Son is definitely Leonard, Older Son is an amalgam of Raj (the sweetness and shyness) and Howard (Jewish), and The Husband likes to think that he is Sheldon. I say that he loses Sheldon points for his lack of fastidiousness, but there is absolutely some Sheldon there. 
• You know you are a geek when you can have whole philosophical conversations about which Star Trek series captain was the better, more capable, and most approachable leader. Personally I am a fan of Jean-Luc Picard, but I have heard merits argued in favour of Kirk as well.
• You know you are a geek when zombies are awesome, vampires are sexy, and werewolves are dreamy.
• You know you are a geek when you can name each of Stan Lee's cameo appearances in every single  Marvel movie.
• You know you are a geek when Comic-Con is a destination vacation.
• You know you are a geek when you brag about how you learned who Aerosmith was from GuitarHero, and your fitness regimen is designed by the Wii.
• You know you are a geek when you use the Simpsons as your default pop culture references.

There are so many more as these were but a sampling. Please feel free to add your own in the comments section below and share them proudly with the world!