It's been a relatively laid back, easy-going Thanksiving this year. That's in part due to our extended family deciding not to meet up together as an absurdly large unit, which we normally do, and that decision is in part due to such facts as the unstable economy, family living distances away in Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and various areas in Maryland. Normally we would brave against such sensible decisions as staying home and being calm and relaxed and congregate somewhere, but this year my mother and father both are hobbled by injuries and surgeries they've had in the past year. And so...here we are...spending Thanksgiving as an immediate nuclear family unit in Forest Hill, MD.
We ate what could be called "dinner" at around...1pm, but that was because my younger brother Matthew and his girlfriend Laura needed to head on down to Columbia, MD in order to visit with the part of her family that lives there. So as a family we decided to eat earlier than normal.
The meal itslef was fairly simple and small for a traditional Polish-American gorge-fest.
No pierogi.
No gołąbki.
Not even any macowiec for dessert.
It was, in fact, very American. Turkey (sans stuffing), with gravy, mashed up potatoes, green beans covered in garlic and butter (okay so that's at least "Ukranian style"), cranberry sauce (from the can), and corn (from the can), along with one pumpkin pie (store bought), and one pecan pie (made by a friend of mine) for dessert. Things couldn't have been more traditionally American...except for the discussions before, during, and after the early dinner.
I started off the morning by waking up around 7:45am and making my way downstairs to take a three mile run on the treadmill. My mother was already up and warned me not to let the dogs downstairs seeing as she didn't want them to get snapped or stuck in any of mousetraps in the basement.
Yes. My parents have mice loose in the house and they're using traps to fight their presence --- both the snapping and glue variety. I find glue traps to be exceptionally cruel and barbaric. I can remember living with an ex in Dallas and we were beset with mice and rats in our house. It was awful...especially whenever we caught a mouse, or a rat in a glue trap. One doesn't see a verminous scavenger in that situation, but a lost, suffering, anxiety-ridden creature who has no idea what is happening.
At that time I disposed of these traps in one of two cruel ways (neither of which I enjoyed doing). I either decided to put the mouse out of its misery by beating it to death against the concrete curb outside our house (because...you know...a hammer was just...inhumane...), or, after giving up on the "beating method," I would simply take the glue trap and toss it into a nearby dumpster and try not to think about the rodent's suffering. Eventually, we decided to use high pitched frequency emitters that kept the mice away...miraculously.
I should suggest those things to my parents because they didn't seem to bother that particular ex's dog, and my parents have two dogs. However, they haven't gotten with the "high frequency" program yet, and my older brother George has a most interesting way of getting rid of mice caught in glue traps...one he was able to implement not once, but twice this morning before dinner.
He puts on a pair of rubber gloves, walks into the basement where the trapped mouse is "resting" (or resisting its fate), puts the mouse (trap and all) into a plastic grocery bag, ties a knot into the top of the bag, and then walks back upstairs, leaves the house via the garage door, and walks out to the far edge of my parents' large lawn where stands a large fire pit, that looks more like pot-bellied fireplace with a smoke stack. Prior to having walked into the basement, George had started a fire with a crude assortment of kindling sources and fuels made of layers of coal, small bits of wood, paper, and all lit with a small butane lighter. When he gets out there, he tosses the mouse, bag and all, into the flames and let's it burn to death. So while the turkey is roasting in the oven, my older brother is in the backyard roasting a mouse or two.
Charming, I know.
I tried to focus on which wine I would rather drink with dinner...the Riesling, or the Beaujolais Nouveau. White tends to go better with turkey...according to the signs at the liquor store. I couldn't help but wonder, "What goes with mouse? My guess would be...the red?" My mother tried suggesting that we try some port with dinner, but I had to be the one to tell her that's much more of a dessert wine. We should wait to try that with the the pecan and pumpkin pies. "And not with the mice," I thought.
Eventually, the mice were no longer an issue, and had, metaphorically, long burned away from our memories. Time flies when cooking, setting the table, burning rodents, and serving food. One would think all that could follow would be pleasant conversation...
My mother gave a lovely toast at dinner, but my thoughts stayed elsewhere during her giving thanks for a lovely, simple dinner, and her whole family (inlcuding my younger brother's girlfriend...for whom I had to choke back grumbles of disapproval when my mother called her "a part of the family"). About ten minutes before sitting down my father started complaining about the new president of Poland, Bronisław Komorowski...
Apparently President Komorowski thought it would be a good idea to invite former President, and general of the Polish armed forces responsible for imposing the last bout of martial law in Poland, Wojciech Jaruzelski, to a meeting of the National Security Council, comprising of former presidents and prime ministers, ahead of Russian President Medvedev’s visit in December. This invitation is more than a bit of a scandal in Poland...as well as in my parents' houselhold...even more so because my father and I both voted in the most recent Polish Presidential election that put Komorowski into the Polish President's office. However, my father voted for Komorowski's opponent, Jarosław Kaczyński, who is a bit of a conservative and a nationalist. I voted for...Komorowski...a fact that, at the time, and to do this day, has never pleased my father. He even once remarked, "What is wrong with you?" I looked back at him and said, "You voted for McCain and Palin and you ask what is wrong with me?" That conversation ended quickly...as do most political discussions between my father and I.
However, for the first time in my life, my father has been finding little ways to dig "the Komorowski problem" into my side like a knife with any small, questionable decision he makes. So, a hugely questionable decision, like officially inviting someone who many Solidarity-era Poles consider to be a traitor and a tyrant, to a Security Council meeting is a boon for my father in saying (without actually having to say it), "See!? You voted for a piece of shit and an idiot!" Smatterings of this point came up during dinner, and dessert with such generalized, but very pointed questions, like, "Who would vote for an idiot like that?" I wonder...
My brother George, fresh from his adventures in burning living mice, chimed in with such gems as, "What's Jaruzelski going to suggest to Komorowski? 'Hey...let's leave NATO and the European Union, reinstitute making religion illegal, and bring Poland back to the Dark Ages!'" Yeah...to my brother's and father's credit, Komorowski did suggest leaving NATO during his presidential run...and then turned around on that suggestion.
However, my father also reminded us of that point during dinner. "That idiot even suggested leaving NATO!"
I kept my head down and just mumbled something like, "Yeah...that's great. Could someone pass the mouse...I mean...turkey?"
We ate. We drank. We napped.
Like I wrote earlier...a perfectly straightforward American Thanksgiving.
Happy Thanksgiving one and all.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Dig! - A Review
I posted the following about 8 months ago on hulu.com as a review to the film, Dig!, about the relationship between members of The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Go to the film's comment thread on hulu if you wish to read more comments about what I wrote.
All the reviews here are right.
Yes this is a good movie/documentary.
Yes the people involved are just a bunch of overly self-involved ego-trippers who think they're a part of some revolution when really they're just a bunch of vain, fame-hungry idiot kids.
Yes it's annoying.
Yes it's fascinating.
And yes...it's satisfying.
I don't think either of these bands was all that influential. The Dandy Warhols were part of the early to mid 90s alt-MTV media machine and didn't have enough talent to give them real staying power, or wide appeal that would have catapulted them past their very slick advertising. Like they say in advertising, nothing kills a bad product faster than good advertising. The Dandy Warhols aren't a bad product necessarily, just one that most people wouldn't want to buy, and they stand now as a semi-well known band with a decent following, but they ain't leading any revolution... that's for sure.
The Brian Jonestown Massacre would have suffered a similar fate, and similar amount of financial success, if they weren't just a bunch of dysfuctional, really psychologically screwed up bunch of grown children. Their star never rose to some sort of menial prominence, like the Dandy Warhols did, because their talent was standing on a foundation of mental illness and addiction. When they did influence some people and other artists they were young and able to hold their stuff ogether through sheer will power. It seems that's why they were able to play some good gigs, put together some half-decent demo quality albums, and convince themselves (and others) they had a chance of being...something. However, this film clearly illustrates the cracks began to show gradually from their seemingly bright and promising inception, and then, the moment they were handed even a modicum of responsibility with a record contract, they quickly crumbled. The Massacre is still around today, but I know only of a handful of people (and that's being generous) who've heard of them, and even less who regularly listen to them.
Again, revolutionaries they are not, either The Dandy Warhols or The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Still, there is something eminently watchable about this documentary. The Dandy Warhols story is relatable because they're a bunch of mostly well-adjusted suburban kids just working hard and pulling minor media stunts (slick videos, girl playing naked in public, etc) to gain fame, career longevity, and the ability to start their own seemingly well-adjusted families. The Brian Jonestown Massacre is everything their band name advertises. They are a group of people willfully drinking their own poisoned, half-sweetened Kool Aid while listening to some decent rock music for a soundtrack. The whole band, much like Anton Newcombe himself, is a group of individuals that resembles something sweet, cute, severely abused puppies. They have the quality of being something bright-eyed, engergetic and promising, but end up becoming something maladjusted and angry, baring their teeth and snapping at the very people that try to pet or feed or feed them. There are people in the world drawn to such qualities in others, and find them engaging and charming, but the story always ends the same. That's why the fans of TBJM haven't stuck around for the long term. Like a woman or a man in a long-term abusive relationship, they probably got tired of being let down, and, in some ways, assaulted by this band's willful self-destruction.
Essentially, this film is a really great character study of what happens when a bunch of ambitious, moderately talented, incredibly flawed and naive American suburbanites get elevated to some sort of prominence through their hobbies, and then their personalities are allowed to play out against each other over time in the public eye. Great stuff.
All the reviews here are right.
Yes this is a good movie/documentary.
Yes the people involved are just a bunch of overly self-involved ego-trippers who think they're a part of some revolution when really they're just a bunch of vain, fame-hungry idiot kids.
Yes it's annoying.
Yes it's fascinating.
And yes...it's satisfying.
I don't think either of these bands was all that influential. The Dandy Warhols were part of the early to mid 90s alt-MTV media machine and didn't have enough talent to give them real staying power, or wide appeal that would have catapulted them past their very slick advertising. Like they say in advertising, nothing kills a bad product faster than good advertising. The Dandy Warhols aren't a bad product necessarily, just one that most people wouldn't want to buy, and they stand now as a semi-well known band with a decent following, but they ain't leading any revolution... that's for sure.
The Brian Jonestown Massacre would have suffered a similar fate, and similar amount of financial success, if they weren't just a bunch of dysfuctional, really psychologically screwed up bunch of grown children. Their star never rose to some sort of menial prominence, like the Dandy Warhols did, because their talent was standing on a foundation of mental illness and addiction. When they did influence some people and other artists they were young and able to hold their stuff ogether through sheer will power. It seems that's why they were able to play some good gigs, put together some half-decent demo quality albums, and convince themselves (and others) they had a chance of being...something. However, this film clearly illustrates the cracks began to show gradually from their seemingly bright and promising inception, and then, the moment they were handed even a modicum of responsibility with a record contract, they quickly crumbled. The Massacre is still around today, but I know only of a handful of people (and that's being generous) who've heard of them, and even less who regularly listen to them.
Again, revolutionaries they are not, either The Dandy Warhols or The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Still, there is something eminently watchable about this documentary. The Dandy Warhols story is relatable because they're a bunch of mostly well-adjusted suburban kids just working hard and pulling minor media stunts (slick videos, girl playing naked in public, etc) to gain fame, career longevity, and the ability to start their own seemingly well-adjusted families. The Brian Jonestown Massacre is everything their band name advertises. They are a group of people willfully drinking their own poisoned, half-sweetened Kool Aid while listening to some decent rock music for a soundtrack. The whole band, much like Anton Newcombe himself, is a group of individuals that resembles something sweet, cute, severely abused puppies. They have the quality of being something bright-eyed, engergetic and promising, but end up becoming something maladjusted and angry, baring their teeth and snapping at the very people that try to pet or feed or feed them. There are people in the world drawn to such qualities in others, and find them engaging and charming, but the story always ends the same. That's why the fans of TBJM haven't stuck around for the long term. Like a woman or a man in a long-term abusive relationship, they probably got tired of being let down, and, in some ways, assaulted by this band's willful self-destruction.
Essentially, this film is a really great character study of what happens when a bunch of ambitious, moderately talented, incredibly flawed and naive American suburbanites get elevated to some sort of prominence through their hobbies, and then their personalities are allowed to play out against each other over time in the public eye. Great stuff.
Eric Idolatry
This is another blog post that was written as a response to someone else's blog and/or status update... Whatever... I haven't been regularly blogging in about...four years (?) now. This is how I get inspired lately. Anyway, I randomly started following this comedian, actor, Press Club 7 producer, burlesque dancer, pin-up and a bunch of other stuff-type person on Twitter named Veronika Swartz. The original blog she wrote was called, "Nerd Whore," and it was all about embarrassing encounters with celebrities. You can find it at http://veronikaswartz.com/2010/11/nerd-whore/ if you're interested in checking it out. It's quite good.
Anyway, this was my response...
I nearly made a fool of myself with my own celebrity encounter while working at a Shakespearean festival out in Utah one summer about 4 years ago…
I was in this main pavillion area singing “Do Wot John” by Monty Python to myself for some reason. I have no idea why the song came to mind. I hadn’t heard it in about 10 years at the time, but all of a sudden I heard it in my head, and walked out of this building onto a path leading back away from the festival campus toward my apartment, humming the song.
I was walking with my head down because of a blaring Utah, midday son when I looked up just to make sure I wasn’t going to bump into anyone. Down the path I see the head of the festival and some older walking next to him and think, “Huh…that guy next to so-and-so looks like Eric Idle.” Thinking I just had Monty Python on the brain I ignored my observation and put my head back down…but quickly picked it back up just to make sure.
The couple got closer and I thought, “Oh my God. That guy REALLY looks like Eric Idle. Before taking a few more steps I realized, “Holy shit! It IS Eric Idle!” I just froze in the middle of the path and watched as Eric and this festival board member (or whatever he was) walked past me in serious conversation.
I tried to think of something to say, but just went blank so I just thought, “NO WAY!” Instead, I didn’t just think…I said it out loud…in an extremely loud, juvenile, half-braindead, part deep-and-booming, part cracking going-through-puberty voice.
Still, I didn’t believe it was him even as I was saying it…but it was confirmed when in mid-step, Idle turn his head around, put a big smile on his face and furiously nodded his head as if to wordlessly say, “That’s right you prepubescent sounding tool! IT’S ME!” I later found out he was traveling with his family through Utah to hike, see the sights, etc…and see our production of HAMLET.
I’ve met other celebrities since then and I have never really even had a remote impulse to say, “Oh my God! You’re amazing!” Etc. And I have,for the most part, avoided that attitude…except for the time I nearly peed my pants in front of Eric Idle. In fact, I’ve realized I only go nuts around people like Eric Idle, or any time I see someone who engages my inner geek.
Anyway, this was my response...
I nearly made a fool of myself with my own celebrity encounter while working at a Shakespearean festival out in Utah one summer about 4 years ago…
I was in this main pavillion area singing “Do Wot John” by Monty Python to myself for some reason. I have no idea why the song came to mind. I hadn’t heard it in about 10 years at the time, but all of a sudden I heard it in my head, and walked out of this building onto a path leading back away from the festival campus toward my apartment, humming the song.
I was walking with my head down because of a blaring Utah, midday son when I looked up just to make sure I wasn’t going to bump into anyone. Down the path I see the head of the festival and some older walking next to him and think, “Huh…that guy next to so-and-so looks like Eric Idle.” Thinking I just had Monty Python on the brain I ignored my observation and put my head back down…but quickly picked it back up just to make sure.
The couple got closer and I thought, “Oh my God. That guy REALLY looks like Eric Idle. Before taking a few more steps I realized, “Holy shit! It IS Eric Idle!” I just froze in the middle of the path and watched as Eric and this festival board member (or whatever he was) walked past me in serious conversation.
I tried to think of something to say, but just went blank so I just thought, “NO WAY!” Instead, I didn’t just think…I said it out loud…in an extremely loud, juvenile, half-braindead, part deep-and-booming, part cracking going-through-puberty voice.
Still, I didn’t believe it was him even as I was saying it…but it was confirmed when in mid-step, Idle turn his head around, put a big smile on his face and furiously nodded his head as if to wordlessly say, “That’s right you prepubescent sounding tool! IT’S ME!” I later found out he was traveling with his family through Utah to hike, see the sights, etc…and see our production of HAMLET.
I’ve met other celebrities since then and I have never really even had a remote impulse to say, “Oh my God! You’re amazing!” Etc. And I have,for the most part, avoided that attitude…except for the time I nearly peed my pants in front of Eric Idle. In fact, I’ve realized I only go nuts around people like Eric Idle, or any time I see someone who engages my inner geek.
Michael Vick's Debt
Back on September 20th, 2010, a friend of mine posted the following status update on Facebook.
"I am an Eagles fan but I'll never support their decision to bring aboard Vick...or the NFL to allow him back. If Timothy McVey was good at baseball, would the Phillies bring him up? Would the MLB allow it? My love and respect for animals will always trump my love for a game."
The following is what I wrote in response to her statement. Since Michael Vick is being put on the newest issued of Sports Illustrated I thought it was right to share this as a blog.
I had a friend who worked with a project called Shakespeare Behind Bars. He would go with people from the Kentucky Shakespeare Festival (I think it was...) and work with inmates on developing prisoner performed Shakespeare productions. On...e night we were at a friend's house for a party and he was describing this work to me and someone overhearing our conversation made the off-hand comment, "Criminals behind bars don't deserve to have fun."
My friend who worked on the Shakespeare project sharply replied, "Are you saying you don't believe a person can be rehabilitated?!" It was one of the only times I EVER saw this friend of mine get remotely angry, or defensive...and this was for men who were, admittedly, murderers, rapists, robbers, etc. There was a tense exchange that followed, but no major argument, just a lot of awkwardness.
However, I'll never forget how passionately my friend defended his argument...and not the holistic idea that the arts can heal, or some selfish idea that his hand in the work cured them. He understood that the idea of "rehabilitation" was a difficult one for people to accept as even a remote possibility for what were the worst of the worst. And yet... he believed in it...not just for these men, but in the rare chance that it actually "worked," he believed in rehabilitation, a "second chance," as an example for those caught up in the same trapped lifestyles that brought those men to prison.
I don't know if he'd agree with me on this issue at all, but I've come to a similar conclusion about Michael Vick.
Yeah, I had a huge problem when the Eagles signed him (still kind of do), but I've come to a point where I think people caught up in "that world" need someone to look to as an example that getting out and starting a new life is not outside the realm of possibility. In the eyes of the criminal justice system he was handed a sentence, served it, and then got out. It was a felony so he's already lost the right to vote, and most likely the ability to get any other menial job.
To be honest, he's not so much getting a second chance, but instead he's taking the only chance he has left. Football is a ruthless game that can end a career in one snap of a ball. Yes, it can provide a man with the great ability to be a hero and a money maker beyond most individuals' imagination, but I don't think most coroporations will touch Vick for a spokesperson. His ability to make any money seems to stand firmly on the football field.
I think he, for better or worse, more than anything else serves a purpose as an...inspiration?...an example?...a symbol of sorts that his types of choices can destroy a life, yes, but there IS a way out. If there isn't... If we keep bringing the repetitive hammer down on people who have served prison time, then we're only encouraging those people to seek out the very choices that brought them to incarceration. We're telling them there is no way out.
I think his story also did a lot to inform people about just how pervasive dog fighting IS in our society. I know I knew next-to-nothing about it, or at least what EXACTLY it involved. I had heard of it...but blocked out the details until his story came out.
Anyway...
I still have my problems with the choice of the Eagles to sign him, but I have accepted he's there, he's talented, and he has some ability to make some sort of amends for the horrific things he did. To his credit, he seems to have been trying very hard to consistently keep his profile very humble and conciliatory since being released.
I also strangely think he needs to keep hearing the voices that say he doesn't deserve a second chance. It's part of the price he has to pay...but also a part of the process he has to go through to show others how to handle such criticism and how to truly rehabilitate.
Tough discussion to think about...
"I am an Eagles fan but I'll never support their decision to bring aboard Vick...or the NFL to allow him back. If Timothy McVey was good at baseball, would the Phillies bring him up? Would the MLB allow it? My love and respect for animals will always trump my love for a game."
The following is what I wrote in response to her statement. Since Michael Vick is being put on the newest issued of Sports Illustrated I thought it was right to share this as a blog.
I had a friend who worked with a project called Shakespeare Behind Bars. He would go with people from the Kentucky Shakespeare Festival (I think it was...) and work with inmates on developing prisoner performed Shakespeare productions. On...e night we were at a friend's house for a party and he was describing this work to me and someone overhearing our conversation made the off-hand comment, "Criminals behind bars don't deserve to have fun."
My friend who worked on the Shakespeare project sharply replied, "Are you saying you don't believe a person can be rehabilitated?!" It was one of the only times I EVER saw this friend of mine get remotely angry, or defensive...and this was for men who were, admittedly, murderers, rapists, robbers, etc. There was a tense exchange that followed, but no major argument, just a lot of awkwardness.
However, I'll never forget how passionately my friend defended his argument...and not the holistic idea that the arts can heal, or some selfish idea that his hand in the work cured them. He understood that the idea of "rehabilitation" was a difficult one for people to accept as even a remote possibility for what were the worst of the worst. And yet... he believed in it...not just for these men, but in the rare chance that it actually "worked," he believed in rehabilitation, a "second chance," as an example for those caught up in the same trapped lifestyles that brought those men to prison.
I don't know if he'd agree with me on this issue at all, but I've come to a similar conclusion about Michael Vick.
Yeah, I had a huge problem when the Eagles signed him (still kind of do), but I've come to a point where I think people caught up in "that world" need someone to look to as an example that getting out and starting a new life is not outside the realm of possibility. In the eyes of the criminal justice system he was handed a sentence, served it, and then got out. It was a felony so he's already lost the right to vote, and most likely the ability to get any other menial job.
To be honest, he's not so much getting a second chance, but instead he's taking the only chance he has left. Football is a ruthless game that can end a career in one snap of a ball. Yes, it can provide a man with the great ability to be a hero and a money maker beyond most individuals' imagination, but I don't think most coroporations will touch Vick for a spokesperson. His ability to make any money seems to stand firmly on the football field.
I think he, for better or worse, more than anything else serves a purpose as an...inspiration?...an example?...a symbol of sorts that his types of choices can destroy a life, yes, but there IS a way out. If there isn't... If we keep bringing the repetitive hammer down on people who have served prison time, then we're only encouraging those people to seek out the very choices that brought them to incarceration. We're telling them there is no way out.
I think his story also did a lot to inform people about just how pervasive dog fighting IS in our society. I know I knew next-to-nothing about it, or at least what EXACTLY it involved. I had heard of it...but blocked out the details until his story came out.
Anyway...
I still have my problems with the choice of the Eagles to sign him, but I have accepted he's there, he's talented, and he has some ability to make some sort of amends for the horrific things he did. To his credit, he seems to have been trying very hard to consistently keep his profile very humble and conciliatory since being released.
I also strangely think he needs to keep hearing the voices that say he doesn't deserve a second chance. It's part of the price he has to pay...but also a part of the process he has to go through to show others how to handle such criticism and how to truly rehabilitate.
Tough discussion to think about...
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