A Cinematic Holiday Season

I'm going to blog about the holiday trip as a whole, but first, I've got to talk about some of the movies I've seen this season.

I'll say it started with Tron: Legacy.  When I saw the original, I was taken with its personification of programs within the computer world, and I've always loved any decent sci-fi film.  This one is decent, but that's all.  As is often the case, the filmmakers clearly gave more thought to the 3D effects than any rigorous conceptualization of the world they were creating.  There are a few interesting ideas, though, and Jeff Bridges was excellent.

Then it was Christmas day and time for my annual watching of Bad Santa.  The film does not disappoint. 

It's more than just a bunch of off-color jokes though.  By tearing down the artifice and sanctimony surrounding the holiday, it shows us what the holiday is actually about, sharing time with people who care about each other.  That, and--"Fuck me, Santa.  Fuck me, Santa.  Fuck me, Santa."

Then we went to Toronto and the Bloor Cinema, a great repatory theater in a wonderful old building.  The place is enormous; the balcony alone would be a large theater in and of itself.  In fact, the balcony has its own nicely appointed lobby.

A corner of the Bloor's lobby to its balcony.

 (Two years ago, we watched Obama's Inauguration there, and you can see coverage of that in this video, starting at the 8:24 mark.  It gives a sense of the theater, including some footage of Nicole and myself.)


This time at the Bloor, we saw Fair Game, which told the story of how Dick Cheney outed covert CIA agent, Valerie Plame.  It also stunningly puts the lie to the oft-quoted meme, "The intelligence community got it wrong."  No, the intelligence community did not get it wrong; Dick Cheney actively worked to fabricate bullshit to start that fatuous war.  The performances by Naomi Watts and Sean Penn are excellent; I cannot recommend the film enough.


On the plane I got to see the documentary Inside Job.  It is to the 2008 financial crisis what Fair Game is to the Iraq War.  It calls people out on their bullshit.  It was so refreshing to see the filmmaker interviewing people from Goldman Sachs and Bush's financial team.  They'd frequently try to drop misinformation, and the filmmaker, who was actually knew about the subject, would call them out on it.  Watch this movie.


Then, still on the plane, I got to see Howl with James Franco playing Allen Ginsberg.  The film alternates between an interpretive animation over Franco's reading of the poem, a re-enactment of Lawrence Ferlenghetti's obsenity prosecution for publishing the poem, a re-enactment of a long interview of Ginsberg, and biographical episodes.  Unfortunately, I only got to watch about half the film before they threw me off the plane, so I really want to see the rest.


Last night, back in St. John's, we saw True Grit.  I'd seen the original.  This one is much better.  And Jeff Bridges is great.

Today we plan to see Black Swan.  And I still want to see the Fighter and the King's Speech.  I said it's a cinematic holiday season.

(Don't go see "The Tourist."  It's not right that Angelina Jolie cheated another mannequin out of a paying gig.)

Merry Boxing Day, a Better New Year, and Belated Christmas

The Georgian Bay at Midland, Ontario.

Like last year, Nicole and I are spending Christmas at her parents' place in Midland.  Her mother lives to cook, so you can't go wrong.  It's been a relaxing, enjoyable time.

Unfortunately though, this is as close as I'm going to get to sending a Christmas card.  This year I just had too many papers to push; Christmas cards simply weren't . . . in the cards.  But I hope all of you had a good one.

For me this is the first time I've taken any time off since I started my job, time that is needed.  Since starting, I've unleashed my inner workaholic, often working through weekends and holidays.  It's also good to be in Ontario.  Sure, Ontario is colder staying just below freezing, while St. John's has had an atypical winter often as warm as 8 degrees Celsius.  Nevertheless, the weather is better in Ontario, as St. John's has been hit with two solid weeks of driving rain.  (By "solid" I mean 196 uninterrupted hours of.)

On Monday, we're going down to Toronto to hang out and visit friends.

Seasons

This week my maternal grandmother, Mary Alice McCormick, passed away.   She was 86, had been in decline for a year, and went peacefully in her sleep with my mother and uncle beside her.

4 Generations:  Mary Alice, my mother Kathy, my sister Anna, and my niece Grace.

As I think about her life, I realize how I've seen her differently at different phases of my life.  As a child, she was, naturally, revered.  Now I realize how my tee-totaling, Southern-Baptist parents projected their values on to my perception of my grandparents; as a child, I assumed they were "good" Baptists, too.  Only later, did I realize that all of my grandparents, like most from south Louisiana, liked to drink; Maw Maw was also into ballroom dancing.  As a teenager, Maw Maw was a familial novelty.  And as an adult, I started to know her as an adult, and that's when the trouble started.

Maw Maw had a difficult personality.  She would frequently foist unwanted and unnecessary advice on you and do so in less than diplomatic terms.  She was often an argument waiting to happen, and as an adult, that turned me off.  Over time, though, I gained some insight into some of the psychological dynamics behind the behavior I didn't like.  And right now, I'm less inclined to think about some of the things that she said and more about some of the things she did.  Though she never had much (She married my good-for-nothing grandfather.), she was reliably generous and hospitable.  She loved books, and she was a good storyteller.  She will be missed.

The delicious pecan pie Nicole made for Thanksgiving.

It was Thanksgiving in the U.S.  In Canada, that occurs in early October.  Nevertheless, Nicole prepared a traditional tofurky feast, and afterward we watched the Saints almost give a game away to the Dallas Cowboys.  I was telling a co-worker that I prefer the U.S.'s Thanksgiving to Canada's.  There the end-of-year holidays begin with the light and fun Halloween.  A month later, the holidays escalate with Thanksgiving.  A month later, the holidays crescendo with Christmas, followed by a coda at New Year's.  Of course in New Orleans, there's Twelfth Night, too.  I thoroughly enjoyed the Thanksgiving here, and when I brought my co-workers half of Nicole's pecan pie, they enjoyed it, too.

We're married!

Most of you know that Nicole and I got married.  Though there's some of you who don't, but now you do.  However, many of you don't know that this November we'll celebrate our fourth anniversary.

So here's the story.  Way back in 2006, in the post-Katrina summer, Nicole and I went on our first date to hear Kermit Ruffins at Vaughn's.  (If you've been watching the Treme, you're familiar with the act.  Actually, Kermit and his music figure prominently in this video.)

I found aspects of post-Katrina New Orleans rather romantic; things were starting over and just being there felt like an act of defiance.  I likened it to living in post-WWII Paris.  So naturally, we fell in love.

Our relationship was going great, when we decided to take a vacation to Vancouver in November.  But then,  Nicole wasn't allowed back in the US, because her papers weren't in order.  A week later, she was given a visa solely for the purpose of getting her van and belongings back into Canada.  The visa would expire in a matter of days, and then she'd have to remain in Canada indefinitely.

Well at that point, I'd had five straight months of her hot lovin'.  There was no way in hell I was letting my Canuck cookie out of my clutches.  So the next day, we went to the Gretna courthouse, eloped, and told Immigration to suck it.

So why'd it take so long for you to hear about it?  Well, at first, it was our secret, which made it all the more romantic.  We hadn't been together that long, and while we definitely wanted to continue our relationship, we weren't ready to publicly wear the "married couple" label.  Then after that, of course, we had the house fire and were completely distracted by that.  And the truth is the period after that has been a difficult one for each of us as well as our relationship.  There never seemed to be the "right" time.

But now that we're starting over again in St. John's, I hope that our lives and relationship are entering a happier phase.  And I'm happy to have Nicole in my life.

Al Gore's Speech Yesterday

In case you haven't heard, Al Gore gave an inspiring speech in which he challenged the nation to eliminate its reliance on fossil fuels in ten years, laying out the environmental, economic, and security benefits of doing so. It makes a lot of sense, and you can watch it here:



The main thing that prompted my posting this speech is he asked me to. I'm not being euphomistic here. I've been one of the more active members on the We campaign, and as such, I was invited to participate in a conference call with other people involved. I didn't talk to him, but it was fun.

Oui, We

Some of you may have seen this ad on the web:


You know I think addressing climate change is a critical concern, so recently I checked it out. I want to encourage you to do the same.

There are two aspects to the non-partisan We Campaign (or WeCanSolveIt.org).

If you click on the "Join We" link, you will be given the opportunity to, essentially, sign an on-line petition demonstrating your support for We's goals and be put on their mailing list. I did this, though I'm generally skeptical of on-line petitions. That's not what's got me excited enough to post about this campaign.

To the right of the "Join We" link is a "Community" link. That's the remarkable aspect of this site. It allows users to join an on-line community and, through the site, provides them with robust networking tools. Through the site, one can form and join groups, host and attend events, create blogs, and make connections, among many other features. It's definitely worth looking at.

Anniversary

Today's the first anniversary of our house fire. I think about where the time went and what's changed.

For me, the most painful thing about the house fire was the death of my cat, Oleanna. I'd had her for 14 years, my first pet I'd gotten on my own, and a companion through every significant phase of my adulthood. She was a smart, funny, loving cat. In a strange way, I feel some guilt about having moved on without her.

So where has the year gone? I realize now it can be divided into three phases. First, the insurance post-mortem from June to October. Second, our period in Oakville, Ontario from October to Februrary. Our period in Toronto from February to the present. Each phase was four months, strange.

What do I have to show for the year? Insurance money and much, though not all, of my belongings replaced. Life in a (slightly) different country.

The most significant accomplishment was writing my screenplay Alien Harvest, and by a fluke of timing, yesterday I mailed that script to Ridley Scott's assistant. I realize the odds aren't good, but at the risk of indulging in some writerly jargon, I feel like I owe it to the characters to give them a chance.

I've gotten some really positive feedback from the three people who've read the script--Nicole, Bart, and my friend here John O'Neill. None of them (not even Nicole) dole out compliments insincerely, which I appreciate. Two of them said one of the best things a writer can hope to hear--Once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. (I've gotten some very helpful suggestions, too.) So I'm hoping that Ridley Scott's assistant is curious enough to pick it up and just read the first few pages.

Also, yesterday, my attorney filed suit against the company whose product started the fire. We've all heard of the elderly woman made a millionaire because she spilled McDonald's coffee. So what sum do you think you could pursue from a company whose product burned your house down, killed your cats, and put your life in a tailspin? Well, not much, no where close to what that woman got. Part of that has to due with the conservative judges appointed in New Orleans, yet another way the Bush administration is fucking me over.

I don't want to end on that negative note. So I'll say that I feel like my life is moving in a positive direction. I don't know the external destination, but inside the trip feels OK with the possibility of improving.

Sydney Pollack

Yesterday, Sydney Pollack died, and for some reason I feel compelled to write about him. I didn't know him, though he is on my list of celebrities I've encountered. My sister's brother-in-law worked as his assistant for The Interpreter, and it sounds like Sydney treated him well.

There were a lot of things about Sydney Pollack I liked. I'd seen him interviewed on "Inside the Actors' Studio," and I liked his thoughts about film-making, finding the "spine" of the story. Recently, he made an ad that plays in movie theaters right before the feature starts, admonishing a character not to talk on the phone during the film. I like that. As much as anything, his persona seemed to be that of a bright, decent person.

Most of all, though, I liked his films. The two that readily come to mind are Out of Africa and Tootsie. But after checking IMDB, I learned he'd directed a number of films I'd admired: The Electric Horseman, Three Days of the Condor, and Absence of Malice. Until The Big Lebowski usurped it, Tootsie had been my favorite comedy. So last night, we watched it. Frankly, I can't think of a better way to remember an artist.

Here's how I encountered Sydney Pollack. During the pentultimate New Orleans Film Festival, Nicole and I had gone to see Al Franken: God Spoke at Canal Place. We were lined up outside, and seating for the film was running late, really late, 40-minutes late. I'd asked at the box office what was going on, and they said the director was talking about the film in there. Turns out, it was Sydney, talking about his Sketches of Frank Gehry. As he was leaving, he walked right past us. Usually when I see celebrities, I leave them alone, and that's what I did in this case. What I would never do is try to befriend them in some way. If I genuinely liked their work, I may tell them--that's it. So as I watched him walk by me, I thought about going up to him and saying,"Tootsie was a great film." But I thought what he really wanted was to be left alone, so I did. But now, I don't know, I wish I'd told him I appreciated his work.

Integral Theory

Recently, I read this interview of Ken Wilber and found it fascinating. If you have a philosophical inclination, I highly recommend considering it.

Wilber is the founder of integral theory, which is his attempt to make sense of our disparate bodies of knowledge. With integral theory, he offers a model about how many fields, from physics to biology to psychology and spirituality, relate and have meaning for our lives. This appeals to me. So I read a primer on his theory The Integral Vision. Now I'm reading Sex, Ecology, Spirituality: the Spirit of Evolution, which is an exhaustive examination of this subject. Maybe you'd like this, too.

Nika Art Glass

Nicole and I have just updated her web site, NikaArtGlass.com. Check it out.

Ramblings about New Orleans

Now that I'm in Toronto, I'm reminded of another experience I had when I left New Orleans for another city, Phoenix. As I've written, I do miss New Orleans; I know what that means. But I've been thinking what specifically I miss.

I've read that New Orleans is one of America's three legendary cities; such legend and all the feelings that surround it are a big part of what's missing in my experience in other cities. It gave me the sense that I was part of something much larger and deeper. By way of contrast, when I look at Toronto or Phoenix, I had the strong feeling that everyone was there simply to be a consumer, a pretty empty prescription for life. (Though, I've just begun to learn about Toronto.) Perhaps coincidentally, Phoenix and Toronto have god-awful traffic, a system that puts one in an adversarial relationship with everyone around them, not great for a sense of community. Such living calls to mind the words of Tyler Durden: "Advertisement has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate, so we can buy shit we don't need."

One of the aspects of life in New Orleans gets touched upon every time we call it "the Big Easy." What does that mean exactly? For me, it means that a considerable part of the city's culture lives in rejection to the terms of global capitalism. In New Orleans, there's the sense that there's more to life than being a cog in a coporate wheel, making as much money as you can for someone else. So many people have a do-it-yourself spirit and a sense of community, investing their lives in causes and projects, rather than just buy and spend. Though, to the outside world, that's a liability. After Katrina, we frequently heard how the city was a poor one. That referred to many of its citizens but also to the corporate wealth within the city. In many ways, New Orleans could be ahead of the times, a model for a post-corporate world if we ever get there (and we need to).

If there's a danger in having a legend it's that it could can keep you looking back and not forward. I think that happened before the storm. Likewise, the city government is an absymal failure. New Orleans may not be the wealthiest city, but nothing excuses the gross incompetence of its administration. Since the storm, people have gotten much more politically active. I hope that start to bring some accountability to the city's government.

Back U.I.T.G.W.N.

Well, I'm on my way; I write this on the plane.

This trip was a good one. I had a lot of nice visits, and I got a lot accomplished. One of the more noteworthy accomplishments was picking up the Firebird, which I drove hither and yon across the city and southeast Louisiana. Last night, as I put it in my parent's garage and covered it, it was difficult not to feel sad, like I was putting aside something beautiful that demands admiration. That's how I feel about New Orleans, too.

I was glad to see noticeable progress in the city, nothing dramatic just a few more restored buildings and a few less derelict ones. It's encouraging.

Thanks to all those who hosted me: Mom & Dad, Angelle, Megan & Andy, Bruce, and Matt. In addition to them, it was great to see: Chris & Mary, Veronica, Alex, Anna Maria, Leslie, Phil, Paulie, Bob & Julie, Matt & Lauren, and Bart, Christy and wee-little Persephone.

Just as I love visiting people, I love eating some good food, so (much to Nicole's envy) here are some of the placess I frequented: La Boulangerie, Surrey's, Rue de la Course, 13, Mimi's, the Saint, Vaughn's, d.b.a., Elizabeth's, Trey Yuen, Pho Tau Bay, Angelo Bracato's, Juan's Flying Burrito, Blue Frog Chocolates. Music wise, I got to see my beloved New Orleans Bingo Show!, the Hot Club of New Orleans and Broken Smokes. I'd intended to see more, but I was having a hard time sleeping and thus a hard time staying out late.

Of course, leaving means always wishing you had more time to visit more people and more places. Though leaving can be a downer, I'm looking forward to getting home, to my cold, snow-covered home. I can't wait to see my loving Nicole and sweet angels, Ella and Eartha. All that lies between me and them is Canadian Customs.

Update: I made it through customs.

In lieu of Mardi Gras

That's the New Orleans Bingo Show! playing with the Edge and Preservation Hall Band.

Update: I've enjoyed Harry Shearer's latest le Show, focusing on Mardi Gras. His quote in describing the costumes on Mardi Gras day, "Even the straight men are creative."

New Hampshire

Are you like me and the rest of the human race who were shocked this week to see Hillary Clinton win the New Hampshire primary? It's prompted some troubling questions about the integrity of the vote there, most notably that the Diebold voting machines which are used throughout New Hampshire are easily corruptible. Some think those machines were hacked by Republicans to give Hillary the win, simply because the GOP would prefer to face her than Obama or Edwards. I am one of them.

You can hear some really interesting and worthwhile discussion of this matter on the Stephanie Miller show.

Here Stephanie interviews Brad Friedman, a journalist who's been following the issue of the Diebold machines for some time.

Here Stephanie interviews Dennis Kucinich about his subsequent call for a recount in New Hampshire.

Raising this question raises the specter of conspiracy, a possibility which is all but verboten in our society. But as you listen to these interviews (and you really should), note how utterly reasonable what they're discussing is. If the possibility of criminal conspiracy cannot be considered, then that grants a license to commit criminal conspiracy to those so inclined.

FYI, I'm voting for Edwards, though Obama wouldn't be bad, and Hillary beats any of the circus freaks in the GOP. (I apologize to any circus freaks I may have offended.)

Bah fuckin' Humbug!

Well, my main Christmas tradition, the watching of "Bad Santa," has been thwarted. I thought my DVD of it had made the trip up to Canada, but last night when I looked for it, I couldn't find it. What's really frustrating is a few days ago I was in the public library, saw their DVD copy of "Bad Santa" on the shelf, thought about checking it out just in case, but didn't because I didn't want something else to keep track of. Then, on the 23rd, "Bad Santa" was on TV. But I didn't tape it or anything. I believed I already had a copy. The universe was trying to tell me I didn't, but I didn't listen.

Why do I like "Bad Santa?" Simply because the main character strips away any illusions about this holiday, and lays bare the real significance of this holiday's primary character. (Sorry, Jesus.) Harry Shearer's latest episode of "Le Show" was pretty funny and cynical. It did some of "Bad Santa"'s heavy lifting for me this year. You can download it here.

Here's my favorite line from "Bad Santa." When a kid tells bad Santa his Christmas wish, he retorts, "Well wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first." I guess this is my way of saying I'm not feeling the Christmas spirit this year. Sorry. But for me, the thought that our society has a season in which a common refrain is "Peace on Earth, and good will towards men" does not sit well with me. I mean I find it disgusting. "Peace on Earth?" That's a punchline, really. I mean, there's no way to deliver that with a straight face. What's really irritating is the "good will towards men" part. I think that's because juxtaposed with peace on Earth, good will towards men seems so simple, such a relatively small request, and it's just as scarce as peace on Earth. So it's perversely appropriate that the culminating event in our society's season of "peace on Earth" is an orgy of consumerism. Want peace on Earth? Well, wish in one hand, shit in the other, and tell me which one fills up first.

Last night, Nicole made Christmas dinner. As we sat down to it, I played "O Holy Night" as performed by Trombone Shorty. As those sharp brass notes fell in my ears, I couldn't help it and started tearing up. As 2007 concludes, it's impossible to feel good about it. It's a year in which difficult situations have suffered serious setbacks, not just for me but my city as well, not just for my city but my country, not just for my country but the planet.

This holiday season I hope you are able to spend time with those you love and that such love gives us the courage to make this world a better place.