Mr. Whimsical

Forgive a doting mom but my little guy (now over 6 feet and almost 18) really makes me laugh. I mentioned his blog when it first started. It's continued to delight and surprise me. Very proud of the used computer/free internet initiative as well.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Mr. Whimsical Keeps Rolling

So on Monday I came to school feeling a little sick. My English teacher sent me home because of how sick she thought I looked, and upon returning home I discovered that my fever was 103. So I am sorry that my posts have been nonexistent, but I had to get better. At 104 your brain starts to melt and I knew for the sake of you dear readers that I must be at full brain capacity to please the ever demanding people that cherish this blog. Well, dear readers, I got my temperature down and I am back to you feeling good. My brain is not melted and therefore Mr. Whimsical keeps rolling.

Wonderful Photos by Randal Ford in Texas Monthly Feb 2008

Must read photo essay from the February 2008 Texas Monthly. Check out The Class of 2017 slideshow on the home page while the link lasts. Or buy a copy. The photos, by Randal Ford, are seemingly so obvious, so simple, the subject so so-done-to-death, I couldn't believe how striking, fresh and original they turned out to be.

Sundance snowstorm, no joke

This must be my favorite posting from Sundance this year.



From Eugene's blog:

For those of us who stayed until the bitter end at Sundance this year, getting out of town was a real adventure on Monday. Here's a few minutes of footage from I-80 yesterday afternoon, shortly before the highway was completely closed to traffic. While some of us made it through to Salt Lake City (and eventually got home safely), other attendees were stuck in Park City amidst 22" of new snow...

Middle-age is truly depressing, worldwide study finds

"Middle-age is truly depressing, worldwide study finds"

This Yahoo News headline item jumped off the screen, provoking a true LOL. But when I clicked through to the actual article, the amusement dimmed. It's fascinating to see the worldwide pattern. But it doesn't feel right to me. Personally that is. My life is much happier now then when I was younger. I can never relate to that nostalgia for the joys of childhood. And even age 20 was often torturous. So then what happens to me on this cycle?

(article excerpts)
The British and U.S. researchers found that happiness for people ranging from Albania to Zimbabwe follows a U-shaped curve where life begins cheerful before turning tough during middle age and then returning to the joys of youth in the golden years.

But the good news is that if people make it to aged 70 and are still physically fit, they are on average as happy and mentally healthy as a 20-year old.
-- Michael Kahn, Reuters London

Goodbye To Guinans, wish I'd been there in person.

This NYT piece by Peter Applebome, Farewell to a Pub, and Maybe to an Era is about a beloved little place in our old hometown (1991-2004). I can't say that I was a regular at Irish Night or drank there daily (like some of my old pals) but I loved it nonetheless. It was where I stopped in before jumping on the train. It's where I picked up the local paper. Or grabbed a bagel. It's where I spent one of my favorite afternoons drinking with Grace and Tim, in awe of the sparkling Hudson River. It was very real. It was absolutely magical. It was the heart and symbolic center for that beloved wooded hamlet, 50+ miles outside of NYC, where my kids grew up.

Farewell to a Pub, and Maybe to an Era

Gwendolyn Bound's blog, Little Chapel on the River, with more photos and stories:


(P.S. Mary Ellen - really hoping you can keep it going in a new incarnation. - Regards from Austin!)

At least I'm not this bad

Maybe there's something wrong with me in the first place that I thought this was so funny and shared it with my kids. From Dan Savage's 1/24/08 column: (if the link doesn't last, check out his archives, here.)

Q. On my 21st birthday, my mother got so shitty drunk that she had to buy a pair of pants off a gas-station attendant after she pissed her own. She dropped her giant bag of pot in the limo. We put her to bed, and she got up and tried to screw my roommate. Then she fell out of the top bunk of his bed and hurt herself so bad she grabbed her car keys and left. She got a DWI on the way to the hospital, where they found out she broke her rib. What does all of this do to my psyche?—Please Answer Me

Very satisfying Saturday salsa

Back from the continuing Saturday On2 Salsa workshop. Man that challenges me! In a good way. But it's hard. And incredibly fun. It feel likes burning new grooves in my brain. I've read about that the very slightest bit - how the brain has certain patterns and when you learn something new, you create a new pattern. For those old enough to remember, the visual is a record, the needle riding the grooves.

When I'm in this class, I can feel the burning happening. It has to do with timing. (um, and coordination of the timing with my body and all the isolated parts there within!) It's this funny balance of learning something new and different, and learning it enough so that it makes sense. I'm a terrible athlete, with almost no eye and hand coordination (which I've noticed is a real liability particularly when I driving -particularly making left hand turns. I can't tell how much time I have...hmmm. although i guess that's not exactly eye hand coordination but more like speed/depth perception. Oh well, I digress.)

But I've always had good rhythm. I hear music rhythmically. So at first it's like, ok, no big deal, I'm just feeling the music here, but then there's a new move that challenges my fundamental timing. It's from the music of course still, but in a different way I haven't moved before. Sometimes I literally feel like my head will explode. I can't even think about it consciously. But I just remain, and repeat, over and over again. The verbal counts somehow making a dent in my brain patterning until it's there. It's impossible til all of a sudden I'm doing it. And not only am I doing it, it feels just right, and it's really, really fun.

I made a joke months ago about calling salsa dance my zen practice. It's come to be not a joke at all. The attempt, the showing up, the being open to the effort, the proceeding without judgement shutting me down, it's an amazing practice and it's been enormously fruitful. And did I say fun? It's unleashed a joy that I hadn't realized was dormant. I'm making the minimal effort, attending one or maybe two classes (90-120 minutes each) a week right now, (rather than daily with the extra 4-5 times a week out in the clubs like many of my "peers") but it's ok. It's still spilling over. The joy remains and spreads.

It's TCM not TMC

oops. Got that wrong several times here. I've since corrected it but for those who read the original post. I kept meaning to refer to TCM (Turner Classic Movies), not TMC (The Movie Channel.) John's a huge fan of TCM so it's often on in our house. I forget to check the listings as he does, but often get sucked in. Great programming, great packaging.

Hoberman on the recent spate of pregnancy films

Another really good read by J. Hoberman in the Village Voice on the recent spate of unwanted pregnancy films. Focusing on the very great, 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days, which is a harrowing and upsetting must-see, he also discusses the recent fad for those "delightful" upbeat surprise pregnancy films, Knocked Up, Waitress, and Juno.

Stuff

Since I'm always trying to earnestly answer the question, "What are you up to?" no matter how hard John tries to teach me, "You don't have to answer the question," here's a quick wrap up of recent activities because I haven't been posting that much. Not that it's particularly a lot, (particularly in these days when people regularly watch a couple of Netflix films a day) or particularly high quality. It's just what it is, right now.

This morning - wonderful live taping of Texas Monthly Talks hosted by Evan Smith with a highly entertaining Jeff Daniels at the Cactus Cafe. Daniels turned out to be a great storyteller. Great content, excellent timing, excellent delivery.

Tuesday: AFS Honeydripper premiere at the Paramount with John Sayles and Maggie Renzi in person. Always fun to watch anything at the Paramount. And this event had lots of good vibes with its strong Austin connection. Particular highlight walking into the after party at the Continental Club with Sayles as we spy him on the barside TV - co-hosting TCM. John had to point out him, "It's your night!"

Monday: First thing, new episode of The Wire on HBO On Demand (where you can catch the episodes before they're broadcast.) Cloverfield matinee at the Highland Galaxy. (Man that's viscerally scary. As a NYer definitely! As someone who lives in fear of unknown dangers, blackouts, bombs. Freaked out and in admiration of the filmmaking the whole time, but is that what I want from my entertainment? No.) Margot at the Wedding on a borrowed screener. (Christ, what a despicable bunch! I guess you have to give Noah Baumbach credit for the artful telling of such complex hateful people, but damn, they were all really hateful. And they're so clearly based on his real family! Ohmigod. Laura Linney first, then Nicole Kidman. Wouldn't it be a great conceptual exercise for him to keep having different fantastic actresses tackle his mom? Just his mom over and over again via different actresses? I guess that's probably what he can't help but do.) Then Killer of Sheep on TCM w/ Charles Burnett co-hosting. (A lot of TCM watching in this house. TCM is hands down John's favorite TV after The Wire and sports.) All these years, I'd never actually seen Killer of Sheep. At first I feared I was too restless to pay attention -but it pulled me in. What a strong, wonderful presence. What a different time.

Sunday: My weekly yoga and now breakfast date. The latter a delightful surprise, an interesting growing friendship. An inspiring connection. Later read the script for Linklater's newest production shooting over on the Isle of Man. Exciting.

In general cooking a lot more with a particular emphasis on homemade soup. (Although Wyatt doesn't really like the soup so much so I do that and have to cook something else for him besides.) I guess I've been able to cook for a long time but I was so neurotic about it, it spoiled the enjoyment. So I resisted. But this year, determined to give my son memories of mom's home cooking before he flies the coop, I'm making the effort. And it's totally sweet and rewarding to see him enjoying it so much. Nice change from the response previously, "um, no one ever cooked at our house. We just grew up on microwaved frozen food." Not exactly true!!! But not completely false. Funny how easy it is now. Why wasn't it easy before?

Saturday night: 20th wedding anniversary party with artist Marc Burkhardt and partner wife Janice. Fabulous house! Different social set but enough crossover to enjoy the time. Good sometimes to stretch the social muscles.

Friday: Fantastic AFS lunch with a prospective new board member. That phrase "earn a seat at the table" more and more resonant to me all the time. I keep meaning to write a separate post about just that. In the evening, popped into the AFS intern party and got some quality time with the head honcho, my friend and excellent work mate .

Thursday: Terrific lunch with a charming and generous associate in town. Lots of great ideas. Later, catching the Austin premiere of Teeth at the Alamo South with my daughter. Funny enough. Always a good time at any of the Alamos.

That takes us back to Wednesday where I already raved about seeing U23D. Not sure how I even feel about laying out the schedule here. Don't really feel the need to broadcast my routine, not sure I like broadcasting my routine, but somehow I was a little provoked by Janice on Saturday night. "You go out a lot? You see a lot of movies?" Um yeah. Not even a heavy week. And in between still pre-screening for sxsw, re-watching to prep for catalog copy, following the Sundance news, paperwork, year-end accounting, prepping for new some projects. So what do you call it? Lots of consuming going on. Stuff.