Greetings Friends,
Since this is a post about films, and this is my blog, my "narcissism" is once again taking over.
I'd like to opine about the sordid Sandra Bullock/Jesse James cheating scenario. It is completely appropriate since Ms. Bullock won her first Best Actress Oscar for the film, The Blind Side, scant days before her world collapsed with the news that her husband pulled a Tiger Woods and was keeping a harem on the side. What is it with these men? Uh...narcissism? That's become my favourite word lately. More on that next week.
What's really struck me about Bullock's situation is how her publicist (I'm assuming) has managed to spin crap into 24 karat gold. The entire world, at least the world that reads People.com, was sympathetic to her plight from Day 1 of this scandal. Now, with the announcement of her adoption of a little boy from New Orleans, and the subsequent magazine cover of her gazing adoringly at her adopted son, plus the revelation that she filed for divorce, she seems to have landed squarely on her feet; at least in the eyes of the tabloid-reading public. I'm sure she's had a few weepy-buried-under-the-covers moments throughout this ordeal, but good for her for emerging even more golden than her Oscar statuette. It was looking pretty tarnished for a while, but I think it's safe to say the shine has been restored. Mr. Monster Garage is now the one with the substantial pile of crap in his lap. Can we all finally move on?
Movies have always been just as important to me as books. Even though I am a fan of such classic American writers like Wharton, James, Faulkner, Fitzgerald and Hemingway, I am not as big a fan of classic American movies. Sure, I count Gone with the Wind, The Wizard of Oz, and The Ten Commandments among my all-time faves, but most of what I really adore is from the late 60s onward. I'll start my list with The Graduate and go from there.
Why is it that I don't like such classics as Casablanca and the countless other black-and-white masterpieces from the Golden Age of Hollywood? Well, I do love the old Marx Brothers films, and snippets of the cheesy Abbott & Costello movies, but that's about it. Sue me; confiscate my degrees; tar and feather me and hang me from the highest point of the Hollywood sign. This is who I am.
For better or worse, here is a partial list of my all-time favourites, in a somewhat chronological order. If you want to take umbrage with my chronology, feel free to look up the pertinent factoids on The Internet Movie Database.
Love Story
The Way We Were
Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid
Easy Rider
The Towering Inferno
The Poseidon Adventure
Earthquake
Blazing Saddles
Young Frankenstein
The Godfather
The Godfather Part II
The Godfather Part III
Saturday Night Fever
A Star is Born (the version starring Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson)
Slapshot (How can you consider yourself a hockey fan if you do not love this movie?)
Animal House
Meatballs (I went to summer camp in Haliburton ON, where this was filmed)
Caddyshack
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Pretty in Pink
St. Elmo's Fire
Broadcast News
Spaceballs
Bull Durham
Who Framed Roger Rabbit (Hello? Jessica Rabbit!)
Field Of Dreams
Goodfellas
Defending Your Life
The Age of Innocence (Martin Scorcese is a huge fan of Edith Wharton, and did her story proud)
Pretty Woman
A League of Their Own
Casino
Speed
The Net (waves to my friend S.B.)
Independence Day
Mother
Gladiator
Armageddon
Titanic
Mystery Alaska (another one hockey fans are required to love)
You know what? I just realized I haven't even contemplated films of the new millennium and really don't know which are my favourites yet. Besides, I'm just not narcissistic enough to let this list go on any longer. Stephen King, in his book, On Writing, was kind enough to share with his readers a required reading list that went on for three pages. When I make my first million as a writer, maybe I'll have the requisite cojones to put all my favourites: movies, books, television shows, etc., down on paper to share with all my adoring fans. For now, I'll end it here.
Have a great weekend.
Nava
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Better Late than Never
Greetings Friends,
I did something today I have never done before, which is why today's post is coming to you so late in the day. I embarked on a new occupation - volunteer.
I think the term "volunteer" is one many people are apt to misinterpret. To volunteer your time to a cause every so often is admirable; to agree to do it on a regular basis for an extended period of time takes patience and dedication. My degree of volunteerism encompasses the latter; because the commitment I made stretches out over the next 6 months.
I agreed to a volunteer stint at a very well known facility for seniors here in Toronto, and it is one I've had a connection to since I was a child: I played bingo there with my grandmother. Now, that may not be a very strong connection, but since then, I've always wanted to volunteer there. What I love about this place is that they celebrate the lives of seniors; it's not just a facility where people "granny-dump" their aged relatives because they've become too difficult to care for. There is a degree of respect, and yes, love for these people I have never witnessed elsewhere. It is a sight to behold, and it makes you feel wonderful when you watch the interaction between staff and residents. Even the outpatient programs are outstanding. My uncle participates in a few of them and he always tells me how valuable and enriching they are. For someone like me, going through some significant life-changing events, what better way could there possibly be to gain perspective than to spend a little time with people who have been through the whirlwind for much longer than I have? So far, it has been manna from heaven, and I expect it will get even better. What could be better than manna from heaven? When someone tells you they're glad they met you, and you have such a beautiful name and a lovely smile. When you can touch the life of an individual with the simple act of wheeling them back to their room, or allowing them to reminisce about bygone times, it warms your heart and gives you hope in ways you never thought possible. Give it a try; it truly is one of the easiest, most rewarding transformational activities that doesn't involve anesthesia or anti-anxiety medication. Really.
I'll be back Friday to talk about movies.
Nava
I did something today I have never done before, which is why today's post is coming to you so late in the day. I embarked on a new occupation - volunteer.
I think the term "volunteer" is one many people are apt to misinterpret. To volunteer your time to a cause every so often is admirable; to agree to do it on a regular basis for an extended period of time takes patience and dedication. My degree of volunteerism encompasses the latter; because the commitment I made stretches out over the next 6 months.
I agreed to a volunteer stint at a very well known facility for seniors here in Toronto, and it is one I've had a connection to since I was a child: I played bingo there with my grandmother. Now, that may not be a very strong connection, but since then, I've always wanted to volunteer there. What I love about this place is that they celebrate the lives of seniors; it's not just a facility where people "granny-dump" their aged relatives because they've become too difficult to care for. There is a degree of respect, and yes, love for these people I have never witnessed elsewhere. It is a sight to behold, and it makes you feel wonderful when you watch the interaction between staff and residents. Even the outpatient programs are outstanding. My uncle participates in a few of them and he always tells me how valuable and enriching they are. For someone like me, going through some significant life-changing events, what better way could there possibly be to gain perspective than to spend a little time with people who have been through the whirlwind for much longer than I have? So far, it has been manna from heaven, and I expect it will get even better. What could be better than manna from heaven? When someone tells you they're glad they met you, and you have such a beautiful name and a lovely smile. When you can touch the life of an individual with the simple act of wheeling them back to their room, or allowing them to reminisce about bygone times, it warms your heart and gives you hope in ways you never thought possible. Give it a try; it truly is one of the easiest, most rewarding transformational activities that doesn't involve anesthesia or anti-anxiety medication. Really.
I'll be back Friday to talk about movies.
Nava
Monday, April 26, 2010
Instinct vs. Training
Greetings Friends,
I've been ruminating a bit on the differences between instinct and training. Anyone who loves animals, dogs in particular, knows that to be a responsible dog owner, you must train your dog. Two weeks ago, I mentioned my friend and her two well-trained greyhounds, and the topic of well-behaved dogs came up a few more times after that. With the proper training, dogs can be quite charming and obedient, but once they get a whiff of something or catch sight of that squirrel scampering across the park, instinct kicks in and all the training in the world goes right down the potty. They can't help it; they're animals, no matter how much we want to believe otherwise.
Take the Las Vegas duo Siegfried and Roy for example: In 2003, Roy Horn was unexpectedly mauled by one of his white tigers during a performance and never completely recovered. Prior to that accident, I attended their show and visited their Secret Garden animal habitat at the Mirage Hotel. In person, those white tigers are some of the most spectacularly beautiful animals I have ever seen. But...they are tigers, not house cats. We can train our animals as carefully as we can, but ultimately, instinct will triumph.
As a writer, I have "trained" and improved my skills over the years. When I look back at something I wrote 10 years ago, I think, geez - who wrote that? Even when I look at something I wrote 6 months ago, I see room for improvement. My instincts as a writer have always been there, but my training is a constant, evolutionary process. All writers have different skills; some are great at dialogue, some can write killer poetry, or have limitless vocabularies. Others can transport you to faraway places with the simplest of language and still more can flummox the crap out of you with multi syllabic jargon that gives you a migraine.
The beauty of an animal like one of those gorgeous white tigers can always be admired from afar; the wonderful, simplistic language of a writer like Hemingway will never go out of style (I hope). As long as we respect our instincts and are mindful of our training, life will continue to be a fascinating journey.
Nava
Image: siegfriedandroy.com
Friday, April 23, 2010
What a Writer Watches
Greetings Friends,
The other day, I mentioned that I watch The Daily Show, The Colbert Report and Jersey Shore. Looking at that grouping of programs, there is a definite "which doesn't belong and why?" question that needs answering.
I don't watch much television, and haven't for a very long time; what piques my interest are shows that challenge me, rather than ones I can zone out in front of. Therefore, I do not tune in to any of the popular "reality" programs. There are certain ones that, as I said, are train wrecks of a magnitude I cannot ignore. There aren't many, but the ones I latch on to, I find I can't stop watching. Some others I've watched are Celebrity Rehab, Rock of Love, The Celebrity Apprentice, and The Surreal Life. That group makes a bit more sense to me - I obviously have a thing for the "screwed-upness" of has-been celebrities.
Since I've admitted to viewing all that other dreck, I may as well confess to watching Keeping up with the Kardashians, too, even though I believe the lowest form of celebrity is to be famous for no reason other than being wealthy and considered beautiful. For many people, there is nothing else in life besides material possessions and physical attractiveness. I am not one of those people. So why do I watch these shows? I have no idea. I also watch a lot of Food Network cooking shows. I consider those "zone-out" television. I will not even address "Jon & Kate Plus 8" or that other family with 18 kids because I do not believe human females were meant to give birth to litters of children. This concludes the portion of today's post where Nava shares her politically incorrect opinions with the great electronic void.
Television has changed dramatically over the course of my lifetime; I have vague memories of watching The Ed Sullivan Show with my parents, and horror of horrors, I was allowed to watch All in the Family as a kid. Talk about politically incorrect...you can't utter half of what was said on that show today without risking major scandal. Some other shows I'm eternally fond of are The Odd Couple, M*A*S*H, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, WKRP in Cincinnati, Cheers, Seinfeld and Two and a Half Men. You can have the rest. I wouldn't waste DVR space on American Idol or Dancing with the Stars even if a DVR existed that had an unlimited memory. I'll always be a sucker for has-been celebrity reality shows; although I don't think I'll ever know why. Maybe my love of cheesy 70s variety shows (Sonny & Cher, Donny & Marie) settled into the nether regions of my subconscious, and that's why I can't help myself. Other than that, I have no idea.
We'll talk about movies next week.
Have a wonderful weekend.
Nava
The other day, I mentioned that I watch The Daily Show, The Colbert Report and Jersey Shore. Looking at that grouping of programs, there is a definite "which doesn't belong and why?" question that needs answering.
I don't watch much television, and haven't for a very long time; what piques my interest are shows that challenge me, rather than ones I can zone out in front of. Therefore, I do not tune in to any of the popular "reality" programs. There are certain ones that, as I said, are train wrecks of a magnitude I cannot ignore. There aren't many, but the ones I latch on to, I find I can't stop watching. Some others I've watched are Celebrity Rehab, Rock of Love, The Celebrity Apprentice, and The Surreal Life. That group makes a bit more sense to me - I obviously have a thing for the "screwed-upness" of has-been celebrities.
Since I've admitted to viewing all that other dreck, I may as well confess to watching Keeping up with the Kardashians, too, even though I believe the lowest form of celebrity is to be famous for no reason other than being wealthy and considered beautiful. For many people, there is nothing else in life besides material possessions and physical attractiveness. I am not one of those people. So why do I watch these shows? I have no idea. I also watch a lot of Food Network cooking shows. I consider those "zone-out" television. I will not even address "Jon & Kate Plus 8" or that other family with 18 kids because I do not believe human females were meant to give birth to litters of children. This concludes the portion of today's post where Nava shares her politically incorrect opinions with the great electronic void.
Television has changed dramatically over the course of my lifetime; I have vague memories of watching The Ed Sullivan Show with my parents, and horror of horrors, I was allowed to watch All in the Family as a kid. Talk about politically incorrect...you can't utter half of what was said on that show today without risking major scandal. Some other shows I'm eternally fond of are The Odd Couple, M*A*S*H, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, WKRP in Cincinnati, Cheers, Seinfeld and Two and a Half Men. You can have the rest. I wouldn't waste DVR space on American Idol or Dancing with the Stars even if a DVR existed that had an unlimited memory. I'll always be a sucker for has-been celebrity reality shows; although I don't think I'll ever know why. Maybe my love of cheesy 70s variety shows (Sonny & Cher, Donny & Marie) settled into the nether regions of my subconscious, and that's why I can't help myself. Other than that, I have no idea.
We'll talk about movies next week.
Have a wonderful weekend.
Nava
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Distraction and Procrastination
Greetings Friends,
Modern writers have to deal with a lot more issues than our predecessors. First of all, there's the equipment: from pen and paper (quill and parchment, chisel and cave wall, etc.) to typewriter and paper, to word processor, to multi-tasking PC that does everything but your dishes. We have a plethora of accoutrements and the pile gets bigger by the hour. The writing part is easy; it's the distractions that get you into trouble.
I'll be the first to admit I can be a world-class procrastinator. It's easy when your "pen and paper" is housed in the same apparatus as your television, DVD player, phone and Internet connection. I write a little, I go online to check my e-mail, People.com, last night's webcasts of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report...and now I have to visit with my new friends: Snooki, The Situation, JWoww and the rest of the crew on season one of Jersey Shore over at MTV.ca. I hang my head in shame at that one, but it's the classic train wreck I am incapable of tearing myself away from. These people, rather, these "guidos" and "guidettes", make the Tony Manero wannabes from my high school days look like altar boys. I am stuck to them like gum in the treads of a sneaker.
Honestly, I don't feel guilty about my little "habits". Think about all the distractions writers like Henry James and Edith Wharton had to put up with: There were the 8-day Transatlantic steamship crossings, the "motor-flights" across England, France and Italy before fuel injection was a germ of an idea, and all those letters they wrote that had to be burned. Where did they possibly find the time to write such classics as The House of Mirth, and The Portrait of a Lady? Did time pass more slowly in the early 20th century than it does now? It must have, or maybe I chose the wrong profession. Then again, Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs did pretty well, and all they were doing was driving back and forth across America. But, they were three sheets to the wind most of the time.
The "process" as I like to call it, is different for every writer. I wasn't the type of student who pulled all-nighters and drank cases of Red Bull when it was paper-writing time. But, there were times when I was printing out my final draft minutes before I had to leave to get to class. The sense of relief after the project was submitted was euphoric; I was a "mature" student, and past the point in my life where I was willing to sacrifice a good night's sleep. Things always got done - eventually. It reminds me of a scene from another favourite movie of mine, Broadcast News: the one where Joan Cusack has to run a newsroom obstacle course to get a tape to the control room to be fed into the live broadcast. She got it there in the nick of time. And that's all that matters.
I don't always push things down to the wire, but I would be lying if I said I never get waylaid or veer off course a little bit. It's part of the job; It's what I love so much about what I do - I do it on my terms, and I do it well. Besides, that little "delete" button on my fancy apparatus comes in quite handy sometimes; no trashing of paper or wasting of ink here.
Nava
Modern writers have to deal with a lot more issues than our predecessors. First of all, there's the equipment: from pen and paper (quill and parchment, chisel and cave wall, etc.) to typewriter and paper, to word processor, to multi-tasking PC that does everything but your dishes. We have a plethora of accoutrements and the pile gets bigger by the hour. The writing part is easy; it's the distractions that get you into trouble.
I'll be the first to admit I can be a world-class procrastinator. It's easy when your "pen and paper" is housed in the same apparatus as your television, DVD player, phone and Internet connection. I write a little, I go online to check my e-mail, People.com, last night's webcasts of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report...and now I have to visit with my new friends: Snooki, The Situation, JWoww and the rest of the crew on season one of Jersey Shore over at MTV.ca. I hang my head in shame at that one, but it's the classic train wreck I am incapable of tearing myself away from. These people, rather, these "guidos" and "guidettes", make the Tony Manero wannabes from my high school days look like altar boys. I am stuck to them like gum in the treads of a sneaker.
Honestly, I don't feel guilty about my little "habits". Think about all the distractions writers like Henry James and Edith Wharton had to put up with: There were the 8-day Transatlantic steamship crossings, the "motor-flights" across England, France and Italy before fuel injection was a germ of an idea, and all those letters they wrote that had to be burned. Where did they possibly find the time to write such classics as The House of Mirth, and The Portrait of a Lady? Did time pass more slowly in the early 20th century than it does now? It must have, or maybe I chose the wrong profession. Then again, Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs did pretty well, and all they were doing was driving back and forth across America. But, they were three sheets to the wind most of the time.
The "process" as I like to call it, is different for every writer. I wasn't the type of student who pulled all-nighters and drank cases of Red Bull when it was paper-writing time. But, there were times when I was printing out my final draft minutes before I had to leave to get to class. The sense of relief after the project was submitted was euphoric; I was a "mature" student, and past the point in my life where I was willing to sacrifice a good night's sleep. Things always got done - eventually. It reminds me of a scene from another favourite movie of mine, Broadcast News: the one where Joan Cusack has to run a newsroom obstacle course to get a tape to the control room to be fed into the live broadcast. She got it there in the nick of time. And that's all that matters.
I don't always push things down to the wire, but I would be lying if I said I never get waylaid or veer off course a little bit. It's part of the job; It's what I love so much about what I do - I do it on my terms, and I do it well. Besides, that little "delete" button on my fancy apparatus comes in quite handy sometimes; no trashing of paper or wasting of ink here.
Nava
Monday, April 19, 2010
What a Writer Reads
Greetings Friends,
I swear I don't know who that was yesterday; I think I need to re-evaluate my security software, because what you read yesterday...no idea where it came from.
I have three books going at the moment, which is completely out of character for me. I'm usually a monogamous reader, but lately, I've become a cheater. The three are Made to Stick by Chip Heath and Dan Heath, On Writing, by Stephen King and The Blair Years, which is a compilation of diary excerpts from Alastair Campbell, former British Prime Minister Tony Blair's press secretary and director of communications.
I've always wanted to read a book authored by someone named "Alastair". Really, I am intrigued by most things political, but I don't read many political books. The ones that have been penned about US politics in recent years have accomplished little else besides sacrificing the lives of innocent trees. British politics, and by default, Canadian politics, are far more interesting to me now. I need to educate myself on the inner workings of a Parliamentary "democracy" as opposed to the one I lived in for most of my life. And when you lived through the Bush Years like I did, you can use every diversion you can get your hands on.
Made to Stick is an interesting little nugget; it wants to teach me how to effectively communicate my ideas. I can use all the help I can get right now. On Writing is part memoir, part writing lesson, from a man who has authored many successful novels, none of which I've ever read. I've seen a few of the movies made from those books: Misery, The Green Mile and The Shawshank Redemption (I believe Shawshank is a short story), but there isn't one Stephen King book on any of my shelves. Now that I have a bit of insight into the author, I may just have to consider reading one. Which one shall I choose?
The books a person reads say a lot about their character. Poring over someone's bookshelves is the equivalent of snooping in their medicine chest. I used to be a hardcore medicine chest "snooper" until I got nailed one time at a former colleague's apartment. Now I rarely ever snoop. But, looking at people's bookshelves gives you much more insight into who they are, and it does not have to be done on the sly. Most people I know keep their books in plain sight and don't mind if you peruse their collections. That doesn't mean I'm opposed to the occasional peek in the medicine chest; I'm more discreet about it now.
Reading has become a somewhat imperiled activity these days. Booksellers are dying on the vine because of all the new electronic reading gadgets that allow you to download books for about half of what it would cost to buy them. Amazon.com has effectively obliterated most of the independent booksellers. The chains that remain are bastions for posers like me who sit in their cafes banging away on laptops, or people who don't want to splurge on that $65.00 cookbook, but will instead sit with a $5.00 coffee and copy recipes out of it.
I love books; I love how they feel, what they teach me, and how they smell. Yes, books have a scent. They can smell like musty, dusty old attics and basements, or like clean crisp cedar or sandalwood. I'm exaggerating that point a bit, but next time the opportunity presents itself, sniff a book; and then read it.
Nava
I swear I don't know who that was yesterday; I think I need to re-evaluate my security software, because what you read yesterday...no idea where it came from.
I have three books going at the moment, which is completely out of character for me. I'm usually a monogamous reader, but lately, I've become a cheater. The three are Made to Stick by Chip Heath and Dan Heath, On Writing, by Stephen King and The Blair Years, which is a compilation of diary excerpts from Alastair Campbell, former British Prime Minister Tony Blair's press secretary and director of communications.
I've always wanted to read a book authored by someone named "Alastair". Really, I am intrigued by most things political, but I don't read many political books. The ones that have been penned about US politics in recent years have accomplished little else besides sacrificing the lives of innocent trees. British politics, and by default, Canadian politics, are far more interesting to me now. I need to educate myself on the inner workings of a Parliamentary "democracy" as opposed to the one I lived in for most of my life. And when you lived through the Bush Years like I did, you can use every diversion you can get your hands on.
Made to Stick is an interesting little nugget; it wants to teach me how to effectively communicate my ideas. I can use all the help I can get right now. On Writing is part memoir, part writing lesson, from a man who has authored many successful novels, none of which I've ever read. I've seen a few of the movies made from those books: Misery, The Green Mile and The Shawshank Redemption (I believe Shawshank is a short story), but there isn't one Stephen King book on any of my shelves. Now that I have a bit of insight into the author, I may just have to consider reading one. Which one shall I choose?
The books a person reads say a lot about their character. Poring over someone's bookshelves is the equivalent of snooping in their medicine chest. I used to be a hardcore medicine chest "snooper" until I got nailed one time at a former colleague's apartment. Now I rarely ever snoop. But, looking at people's bookshelves gives you much more insight into who they are, and it does not have to be done on the sly. Most people I know keep their books in plain sight and don't mind if you peruse their collections. That doesn't mean I'm opposed to the occasional peek in the medicine chest; I'm more discreet about it now.
Reading has become a somewhat imperiled activity these days. Booksellers are dying on the vine because of all the new electronic reading gadgets that allow you to download books for about half of what it would cost to buy them. Amazon.com has effectively obliterated most of the independent booksellers. The chains that remain are bastions for posers like me who sit in their cafes banging away on laptops, or people who don't want to splurge on that $65.00 cookbook, but will instead sit with a $5.00 coffee and copy recipes out of it.
I love books; I love how they feel, what they teach me, and how they smell. Yes, books have a scent. They can smell like musty, dusty old attics and basements, or like clean crisp cedar or sandalwood. I'm exaggerating that point a bit, but next time the opportunity presents itself, sniff a book; and then read it.
Nava
Sunday, April 18, 2010
All My Teams Suck
Here's a "Supplemental Sunday" entry that I just can't stop myself from sharing. It's my blog after all. Having one's own blog to share one's every thought with the great electronic void otherwise known as the Internet, is part and parcel of why there is rampant narcissism in the world today. But, like every "normal" person, I do not consider myself a narcissist.
Last night, while watching the Vancouver Canucks play the Los Angeles Kings in the first round of this year's marathon Stanley Cup playoffs, I realized how pissed off I am about how badly all the sports teams I cheer for, suck. The New York Islanders, my favourite hockey team for most of my life, had a glorious run of 4 consecutive Stanley Cup victories from 1980 to 1983. There were minor flashes of brilliance afterward, but none that will ever surpass the "Dynasty" era. They have since sunken into an abyss I fear they will not emerge from until after yours truly is 6 feet under, pushing up daisies. My second favourite hockey team, the Toronto Maple Leafs, have not won a Stanley Cup in 43 years. Their future doesn't look all that rosy, either. I believe the Hockey Gods have a beef with me; there's my narcissism rearing its ugly head.
My baseball teams, the New York Mets and the Toronto Blue Jays, have been equally as disappointing. The Mets more so because they've just embarked on their second season in shiny new CitiField with a less than stellar beginning. I wonder how many Mets fans are writing hate mail to that Ponzi master, Bernard Madoff, since he practically bankrupted the Wilpon family, bilking them out of somewhere in the vicinity of half a billion dollars. Fred and Jeff can put up a brave front, but we all know they no longer have the proverbial pot to piss in.
The Blue Jays, now that their best pitcher plays for the Philadelphia Phillies, are in the same boat as my beloved Leafs. It's a bit more obvious in the Jays' case, since they play in a building that holds 55,000 fans, but about 54,800 of them can't be bothered to show up. If that were the case over at the Air Canada Centre for Leafs home games, you'd bet they'd have won a few more Cups since the Summer of Love. No such luck. Which is why, as I stated, all my teams suck. But, I'm not giving up. This "narcissist" doesn't believe her ass is too special not to be kicked; its been kicked too many times already.
See you tomorrow.
Nava
Last night, while watching the Vancouver Canucks play the Los Angeles Kings in the first round of this year's marathon Stanley Cup playoffs, I realized how pissed off I am about how badly all the sports teams I cheer for, suck. The New York Islanders, my favourite hockey team for most of my life, had a glorious run of 4 consecutive Stanley Cup victories from 1980 to 1983. There were minor flashes of brilliance afterward, but none that will ever surpass the "Dynasty" era. They have since sunken into an abyss I fear they will not emerge from until after yours truly is 6 feet under, pushing up daisies. My second favourite hockey team, the Toronto Maple Leafs, have not won a Stanley Cup in 43 years. Their future doesn't look all that rosy, either. I believe the Hockey Gods have a beef with me; there's my narcissism rearing its ugly head.
My baseball teams, the New York Mets and the Toronto Blue Jays, have been equally as disappointing. The Mets more so because they've just embarked on their second season in shiny new CitiField with a less than stellar beginning. I wonder how many Mets fans are writing hate mail to that Ponzi master, Bernard Madoff, since he practically bankrupted the Wilpon family, bilking them out of somewhere in the vicinity of half a billion dollars. Fred and Jeff can put up a brave front, but we all know they no longer have the proverbial pot to piss in.
The Blue Jays, now that their best pitcher plays for the Philadelphia Phillies, are in the same boat as my beloved Leafs. It's a bit more obvious in the Jays' case, since they play in a building that holds 55,000 fans, but about 54,800 of them can't be bothered to show up. If that were the case over at the Air Canada Centre for Leafs home games, you'd bet they'd have won a few more Cups since the Summer of Love. No such luck. Which is why, as I stated, all my teams suck. But, I'm not giving up. This "narcissist" doesn't believe her ass is too special not to be kicked; its been kicked too many times already.
See you tomorrow.
Nava
Friday, April 16, 2010
Embracing the Unexpected
Greetings Friends,
We've all had those days when we think we have every detail planned and expect to do certain things at certain times. When things unexpectedly go all wonky and you don't accomplish what you set out to do, it can sometimes be frustrating. But, if the day leads you to unexpected places, and the time is well-spent, then it is worth embracing, and reflecting on what you did, even if you didn't accomplish the specific tasks you laid out for yourself.
I had lunch with a friend today (very good, very spicy Thai food) whom I hadn't seen for a while. We chatted about our lives and what was going on, and then she suggested a walk with her two dogs. My friend R. has two impeccably trained greyhounds who understand commands in English, French and Yiddish. We took a leisurely stroll through her neighbourhood, taking in the varieties of magnolia trees in front of many of the homes.R. is in the middle of an extensive landscaping project and spent most of last winter trying to decide which species of tree she would like to plant in her garden. Magnolias are very pretty, but she's looking for a tree that is dog friendly and will provide some shade. So, even though she admires all the different varieties of magnolia, she is still deciding on which trees she will eventually plant.
As we walked, I was in awe of how obedient her dogs were, and how even though they are large animals, and she is very petite, she was walking them; they were not walking her. There was an unspoken understanding between them, and it was a wonder to behold. I hadn't enjoyed a leisurely walk in a very long time. It was a wonderfully unexpected way to spend the afternoon.
So, here I am, in yet another Starbucks, reflecting on my unexpected afternoon lunching and walking with my friend. It wasn't what I was expecting to do, but it was a welcome diversion from the tasks I had set out for myself. What needs to get done will eventually be accomplished, just not as early as I had originally planned. That's one of the best perks of being a writer: even if you have a deadline, self-imposed or otherwise, you often find that circumstances will lead you astray, but whatever you are working on will still be there waiting for you when you return from your diversion. Mind you, I do not indulge in diversionary activities every day, but once in a while, a good diversion is not only welcome, but necessary to keep you on track. Sometimes you really do have to stop and smell the roses.
Speaking of smelling, make sure you visit Perfume Posse to read my latest post, "SJP NYC".
Have a wonderful weekend.
Nava
We've all had those days when we think we have every detail planned and expect to do certain things at certain times. When things unexpectedly go all wonky and you don't accomplish what you set out to do, it can sometimes be frustrating. But, if the day leads you to unexpected places, and the time is well-spent, then it is worth embracing, and reflecting on what you did, even if you didn't accomplish the specific tasks you laid out for yourself.
I had lunch with a friend today (very good, very spicy Thai food) whom I hadn't seen for a while. We chatted about our lives and what was going on, and then she suggested a walk with her two dogs. My friend R. has two impeccably trained greyhounds who understand commands in English, French and Yiddish. We took a leisurely stroll through her neighbourhood, taking in the varieties of magnolia trees in front of many of the homes.R. is in the middle of an extensive landscaping project and spent most of last winter trying to decide which species of tree she would like to plant in her garden. Magnolias are very pretty, but she's looking for a tree that is dog friendly and will provide some shade. So, even though she admires all the different varieties of magnolia, she is still deciding on which trees she will eventually plant.
As we walked, I was in awe of how obedient her dogs were, and how even though they are large animals, and she is very petite, she was walking them; they were not walking her. There was an unspoken understanding between them, and it was a wonder to behold. I hadn't enjoyed a leisurely walk in a very long time. It was a wonderfully unexpected way to spend the afternoon.
So, here I am, in yet another Starbucks, reflecting on my unexpected afternoon lunching and walking with my friend. It wasn't what I was expecting to do, but it was a welcome diversion from the tasks I had set out for myself. What needs to get done will eventually be accomplished, just not as early as I had originally planned. That's one of the best perks of being a writer: even if you have a deadline, self-imposed or otherwise, you often find that circumstances will lead you astray, but whatever you are working on will still be there waiting for you when you return from your diversion. Mind you, I do not indulge in diversionary activities every day, but once in a while, a good diversion is not only welcome, but necessary to keep you on track. Sometimes you really do have to stop and smell the roses.
Speaking of smelling, make sure you visit Perfume Posse to read my latest post, "SJP NYC".
Have a wonderful weekend.
Nava
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Nose is Mightier than the Pen
Greetings Friends,
Another glorious spring day north of the 49th parallel, and another day out and about at another Starbucks.
Just a quick addendum to my last post referencing the documentary "Super Size Me": another fascinating nugget of trivia provided by filmmaker Morgan Spurlock was that there were 83 McDonalds stores on the island of Manhattan when he made that film. I wonder how many there are now? Further to that, I wonder how many Starbucks stores there are in the Greater Toronto Area, and how many geeks like me sit in them guzzling caffeinated beverages, tapping away on their laptops? That will be a discussion for another day.
Today, I'd like to share with you my most favourite writing topic: fragrance. I love writing about fragrance; how it makes me feel, what sort of memories it conjures, how it is made...you name it. I'm a regular contributor at the blog Perfume Posse, and you can look for me there every other Friday sharing my fragrant meanderings with an extremely knowledgeable and intelligent audience. I'm blogging there this Friday April 16, so be sure to stop by and read my post. I've got something very cheeky up my sleeve.
I love writing about fragrance because it is a most challenging topic. It goes way beyond "that smells good" or "that smells like total crap". Creating a fragrance is a complicated scientific process that I don't know much about, but I do consider myself well versed in the end result. And, I'm not shy about voicing my opinions. The genre of "fragrance criticism" has a huge following on the Internet with countless blogs. Even The New York Times has a resident perfume critic, Chandler Burr, with his blog, Scent Notes. Thank goodness they didn't give it to Frank Rich; the former "Butcher of Broadway" would probably have turned into the "Slasher of Madison Avenue".
Fragrance is an extremely subjective topic because not everyone is going to wear the same one, the way we don't all wear the same clothes or drive the same cars. It is an intensely personal choice and reflective of who you are. It can also transform you into someone else, depending on which one you choose. There are infinite possibilities; that's what I love so much about it. On any given day you can be whoever you choose to be, without any schizophrenic repercussions. I prefer to be thought of as "mercurial". It sounds much more normal.
I'd like to share two essays from the Perfume Posse archives that I'm particularly proud of. You can read one here, and the other, here. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
Nava
Another glorious spring day north of the 49th parallel, and another day out and about at another Starbucks.
Just a quick addendum to my last post referencing the documentary "Super Size Me": another fascinating nugget of trivia provided by filmmaker Morgan Spurlock was that there were 83 McDonalds stores on the island of Manhattan when he made that film. I wonder how many there are now? Further to that, I wonder how many Starbucks stores there are in the Greater Toronto Area, and how many geeks like me sit in them guzzling caffeinated beverages, tapping away on their laptops? That will be a discussion for another day.
Today, I'd like to share with you my most favourite writing topic: fragrance. I love writing about fragrance; how it makes me feel, what sort of memories it conjures, how it is made...you name it. I'm a regular contributor at the blog Perfume Posse, and you can look for me there every other Friday sharing my fragrant meanderings with an extremely knowledgeable and intelligent audience. I'm blogging there this Friday April 16, so be sure to stop by and read my post. I've got something very cheeky up my sleeve.
I love writing about fragrance because it is a most challenging topic. It goes way beyond "that smells good" or "that smells like total crap". Creating a fragrance is a complicated scientific process that I don't know much about, but I do consider myself well versed in the end result. And, I'm not shy about voicing my opinions. The genre of "fragrance criticism" has a huge following on the Internet with countless blogs. Even The New York Times has a resident perfume critic, Chandler Burr, with his blog, Scent Notes. Thank goodness they didn't give it to Frank Rich; the former "Butcher of Broadway" would probably have turned into the "Slasher of Madison Avenue".
Fragrance is an extremely subjective topic because not everyone is going to wear the same one, the way we don't all wear the same clothes or drive the same cars. It is an intensely personal choice and reflective of who you are. It can also transform you into someone else, depending on which one you choose. There are infinite possibilities; that's what I love so much about it. On any given day you can be whoever you choose to be, without any schizophrenic repercussions. I prefer to be thought of as "mercurial". It sounds much more normal.
I'd like to share two essays from the Perfume Posse archives that I'm particularly proud of. You can read one here, and the other, here. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
Nava
Monday, April 12, 2010
Inspiring Minds Want to Know
Greetings Friends,
I'm blogging today from a different Starbucks, here in sunny, springy Toronto.
CBC News Network (or whatever they're calling themselves these days) showed one of my favourite documentaries last week, "Super Size Me", by Morgan Spurlock. I've never been a big eater of fast food, particularly McDonalds, but watching that man go from the pinnacle of health to a train wreck with a fatty liver and chest pains will make anyone think twice about ordering up that Big Mac, fries and a shake no matter how hungry you are. Well, maybe not if you're on an extended road trip and it's your only choice, but generally I do my best to avoid it...not counting occasional, unreasonable hormonal cravings; those cannot be helped.
At the beginning of his iconic documentary, Spurlock explained that his inspiration for making the film was the American obesity epidemic, and the prevalence of Type 2 Diabetes in children. That in itself is inspiration enough, but to sacrifice your own health in the bargain might be a fair bit of agenda-pushing; but it was pretty fascinating agenda pushing, in my opinion. Watching this film got me thinking about what it is that inspires us, and what we are capable of when bits of inspiration present themselves.
As a writer, I get inspired by a lot of things. They could be my personal experiences, the experiences of others, things I read, things I watch, things I hear, and so on. Sometimes, writing about what inspires me isn't always easy. I'm not the kind of writer for whom the words are always blowing out my...um, posterior. Sometimes, I need to pace, go for a walk, play 50 games of Windows solitaire, have a cup of coffee, play with the cat - basically any number of things to try and capture some inspiration. But, no matter how blocked I sometimes get, inspiration in some form will always arrive. Today, just watching people and traffic go by in the gorgeous spring sunshine is enough to inspire me to feel positive about the future and the things that are in store for me.
What inspires you? Tell me, please. I really want to know.
Nava
I'm blogging today from a different Starbucks, here in sunny, springy Toronto.
CBC News Network (or whatever they're calling themselves these days) showed one of my favourite documentaries last week, "Super Size Me", by Morgan Spurlock. I've never been a big eater of fast food, particularly McDonalds, but watching that man go from the pinnacle of health to a train wreck with a fatty liver and chest pains will make anyone think twice about ordering up that Big Mac, fries and a shake no matter how hungry you are. Well, maybe not if you're on an extended road trip and it's your only choice, but generally I do my best to avoid it...not counting occasional, unreasonable hormonal cravings; those cannot be helped.
At the beginning of his iconic documentary, Spurlock explained that his inspiration for making the film was the American obesity epidemic, and the prevalence of Type 2 Diabetes in children. That in itself is inspiration enough, but to sacrifice your own health in the bargain might be a fair bit of agenda-pushing; but it was pretty fascinating agenda pushing, in my opinion. Watching this film got me thinking about what it is that inspires us, and what we are capable of when bits of inspiration present themselves.
As a writer, I get inspired by a lot of things. They could be my personal experiences, the experiences of others, things I read, things I watch, things I hear, and so on. Sometimes, writing about what inspires me isn't always easy. I'm not the kind of writer for whom the words are always blowing out my...um, posterior. Sometimes, I need to pace, go for a walk, play 50 games of Windows solitaire, have a cup of coffee, play with the cat - basically any number of things to try and capture some inspiration. But, no matter how blocked I sometimes get, inspiration in some form will always arrive. Today, just watching people and traffic go by in the gorgeous spring sunshine is enough to inspire me to feel positive about the future and the things that are in store for me.
What inspires you? Tell me, please. I really want to know.
Nava
Thursday, April 8, 2010
A Tech Neophyte Gets an Education
Happy Thursday to all.
As I sit here in the local Starbucks with my ginormous 17 inch laptop, I feel like Godzilla among all the geeky tekkies here, working on their snazzy little netbooks. I've never been one to do anything small, so when it came time to purchase a laptop, I went for one of the big ones. It's a pain to schlep around, but it is a most impressive piece of machinery. Anything worth doing is worth doing right, I always say.
In my former life I was never a big fan of technology. A person of my generation remembers the days before the PC, when having a colour television in your home was a big deal. When I was a kid, we listened to records and 8 track tapes. As I grew older, we carried boom box radios in the street and made entire neighbourhoods listen to the music we blasted from them. We went to arcades lugging pockets full of quarters to play Space Invaders, Donkey Kong and Pac Man. A bit later, we all got Sony Walkmans and became members of the work force, listening to our cassette tapes while commuting on buses, subways and commuter trains. And so it went...
Today, we pose, er, hang out, in places like Starbucks and outside of Apple stores in shopping malls, looking for all the world like serious brainiacs. Some of us are, but I'm just getting my feet wet. A year ago, I was making fun of the geeky tekkies and their laptops. Now, I've joined their minions. I've got my laptop, my Rocket Stick, my iPhone and my Venti hazelnut latte. I am one of them, and I am proud.
Over the course of the last decade, I've learned that all forms of education are beneficial, not just the kind you get in the classroom. I've had plenty of that kind of education, and it is invaluable. But, what you learn from living in the world and from the people you meet can help you tremendously. I am living proof of that.
Live, listen, and above all else, LEARN.
Nava
As I sit here in the local Starbucks with my ginormous 17 inch laptop, I feel like Godzilla among all the geeky tekkies here, working on their snazzy little netbooks. I've never been one to do anything small, so when it came time to purchase a laptop, I went for one of the big ones. It's a pain to schlep around, but it is a most impressive piece of machinery. Anything worth doing is worth doing right, I always say.
In my former life I was never a big fan of technology. A person of my generation remembers the days before the PC, when having a colour television in your home was a big deal. When I was a kid, we listened to records and 8 track tapes. As I grew older, we carried boom box radios in the street and made entire neighbourhoods listen to the music we blasted from them. We went to arcades lugging pockets full of quarters to play Space Invaders, Donkey Kong and Pac Man. A bit later, we all got Sony Walkmans and became members of the work force, listening to our cassette tapes while commuting on buses, subways and commuter trains. And so it went...
Today, we pose, er, hang out, in places like Starbucks and outside of Apple stores in shopping malls, looking for all the world like serious brainiacs. Some of us are, but I'm just getting my feet wet. A year ago, I was making fun of the geeky tekkies and their laptops. Now, I've joined their minions. I've got my laptop, my Rocket Stick, my iPhone and my Venti hazelnut latte. I am one of them, and I am proud.
Over the course of the last decade, I've learned that all forms of education are beneficial, not just the kind you get in the classroom. I've had plenty of that kind of education, and it is invaluable. But, what you learn from living in the world and from the people you meet can help you tremendously. I am living proof of that.
Live, listen, and above all else, LEARN.
Nava
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Welcome!
I am located in Toronto Ontario and have been working since September 2009 writing web site copy and performing SEO (Search Engine Optimization). It is my hope to get the word out about my services through this blog, so check back in the coming days for information on projects I am working on and some examples of my work. In the meantime, check out my bi-weekly posts at perfumeposse.com (fragrances are one of my very favourite topics), and visit me here at the Ink & Paint as often as you can. I promise to keep things witty and interesting! As Jessica Rabbit said, "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way."
Thanks for joining me on my journey of reinvention.
Nava
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