Another December 15th fast approaches as another long, cold year slowly grinds down to the final shopping-and-drinking-and-eating season.
Oh joy.
I'm not a scrooge and I'm definitely not anti-social; far from either. Actually, I'm just feeling the effects of an immense workload, the remnants of some personal/family medical issues, and the phone -- in connection with both of these -- rings off the hook. It's not a problem, really; it's just that either I'll develop an ulcer, a heart attack, or a great love of doing nothing.
Fortunately, I've mastered the art of the latter.
The problem is this past weekend should have been merely about football. It wasn't. It was about some football, the Heisman, Tookie Williams, pumpkin cheesecake and a shitload of work. And not in that order. I know it sounds far from exciting -- as well it should. It's boring. But the truth is, with all the work I'm shouldering, I'm not quite ready to jump out of a window quite yet. And even if I do decide to take that final way out, it's not that drastic a measure: I live on the first floor.
In either case, obviously, all the work is getting handled and finished, but statutory deadlines, pains in the ass calling regularly, and all the ancillary bullshit surrounding the holiday season -- parties, shopping, schedules, helping old ladies across the street -- feh (kidding about that 'old ladies across the street' part...I toss 'em on my back and run like the wind, it makes it almost like a game).
Anyway, so while my life resembles -- in many ways -- a tug-of-war between my business- and personal lives, I am of the mind to guess that most people have that dichotomy happening as well. We don't work because we want to -- we work because we have to. And our salaries pay for things like vacations, cars, mortgage payments and other non-business things. And as we get more and more goodies (and a taste therefore), we work harder to get more so we have more and can open doors that will lead us to more doors...it's a bit confusing. All I know is I have no problem banging my head against a wall, I am just looking forward to the day after, so I can mind to the throbbing and the voices and -- if so inclined -- hit the ground floor running :)
And no, I couldn't finish a post herein without mentioning the weather...it's so cold in New York that when the homeless people are urinating against the sides of buildings, the pee is freezing in mid-air.
That last part isn't true; but one day, if it does indeed happen, I think we will then be able to mention that New York is really, really, really, really a cold city.
Perhaps.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Thursday, December 08, 2005
The Stuff Of Genius (Not)
I'd like to declare that my foray into homemade moviemaking yet again confirmed I am a genius, but I can’t elaborate. It’s not that I won’t or am unwilling; it’s that, when it comes to this particular endeavor, I don’t have the first clue and am therefore midly more gifted than a doorknob.
You see, armed with a relatively new PC, I opted to convert some of the family's home movies from years past (most home movies are in the “years past” vein) from their newly-spawned DVD’s to "combined" DVD’s. So, armed with a burner, lots of RAM and some free time (what’s that?), I decided to dabble a bit.
Unfortunately, I need to do a lot more dabbling before I decide my career as a professional film editor can indeed be a reality. There's no Apex Tech waiting for this future mechanic to call in when it comes to video editing, I can assure you. Aside from my lack of patience in finding a millisecond in a haystack (comprising more than five hours of video), I wasn’t and am not currently satisfied with the software out there. It’s clunky, shaky and anything but intuitive. That last part isn’t a problem, actually; it “scares off any pain-in-the-ass innocent bystanders” (thanks, Clemenza, I’ll take the connoli). But the problem isn’t that it’s difficult, the problem is it’s mystifying.
Make a long story short: I took a Simpsons video (a collection of four DVD’s comprising that show’s second season) and, using a nifty piece of unnamed software, “ripped” (electronically copied all of the data thereon) the second disc onto my hard drive. Then I fed it through another program – a “video frameserver” – and got that sucker ready for yet another program to clean it up, size it up and serve it up so I could put it yet elsewhere – on my Palm.
Yep, all this work for basically nothing. But – much like the little blue fizzy thing that undulates to the bottom of a flushing toilet, I’m getting closer to converting the family movies to full-on DVD status.
As I alluded yesterday, and as Damian Kulash suggested in the piece to which I linked yesterday, this copy protection stuff – in a word – stinks. First of all, it really makes watching/listening/enjoying the media you own, whether on DVD, CD or online – a pain in the ass. For those of you who don’t know, DVD’s sold in this country are – for the most part – region-coded. That means that if you drag your ass over to J&R Music World and buy Madagascar on DVD, it will likely work just fine in your Aunt Edna’s home theater DVD player. But take that disc on a trip overseas – to England, for example – and that disc is more worthless than an Ethiopian at a Sumo Wrestling tournament.
And before any of you smartasses respond with a “Yeah, but Boogie, that’s because England has a different type of TV setup over there – called PAL.” Yeah, and they also have an inferior comprehension of cosmetic dentistry. But the PAL/NTSC disparity has nothing to do with it. Discs to be used in England have a “Region 2” coding, which means if I buy Madagascar there and bring it here, it will be unplayable.
The reason why I have devoted bandwidth and time to this less-than-enticing slice of my life is simple: I wound up buying a DVD of a film released only in England, and it took me the better part of a couple years (and a couple of weeks’ at night and weekends) to convert the thing so I could painlessly watch this disc – that I legitimately own – at my leisure.
I understand the problems inherent with digital reproduction and file-sharing and profit and margin and the fact that one kid in Sweden who figured out how to crack DVD copy protection probably cost Sony and the other multi-media conglomerates $50 to $100 million a year. I understand that record companies are desperate to ebb the flow of pirated music floating around file-sharing networks all over the place. And I understand the fact that people, given the opportunity to do the right thing, find a way not to.
Having said all that, I think it boils down to the question of whether people will accept excessive prices for media – CD’s, movies, software – or if they will let record companies know they are willing to pay if the cost is reasonable. Google the stats on Apple’s iTunes store, which enables a user to pay $1.28 (incl. tax) to download a song. Instant gratification – no waiting for UPS, FedEx, DHL or Mike’s Courier and Pizza Service, to show up with a banged-up cardboard box containing a CD you’ll absolutely adore for about four minutes and seventeen seconds. I’ve tried iTunes – for the most part, I don’t find a need for it (I’ve got about 8,000 cd’s littered around my apartment in boxes, racks, shelves and drawers). But I did download a few tunes I’d been searching for – I even considered buying the albums on which said tunes were released. But who the hell would pay $12 for The Best of The Tubes when all I really wanted – don’t ask me why – is “She’s a Beauty?” Ditto for Weird Al Yankovic’s “Dare To Be Stupid” for the tune “Yoda.” Again, don’t ask me why – trust me, I’m well aware revealing these two degenerative musical choices don’t earn me cache in anyone’s book, save a 14-year-old acne-riddled pre-pubescent babysitter from Topeka (yeah, I know you’re reading).
Short and long: until we find a way to make digital media – DVD’s, CD’s, e-books and TV – relatively usable under some auspice of protection, it’s going to be difficult, painful and pricey to own and enjoy. I can understand why there is a legitimate need – and there is – to curb the flow of piracy of this stuff. But I also think that if it’s done poorly, or adds ridiculous hoops through which the average, legitimate buyer must pass through to get to his/her e-media, then the problems will remain.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go listen to the best of Abba.
Yes, I’m kidding – and thank god for that.
You see, armed with a relatively new PC, I opted to convert some of the family's home movies from years past (most home movies are in the “years past” vein) from their newly-spawned DVD’s to "combined" DVD’s. So, armed with a burner, lots of RAM and some free time (what’s that?), I decided to dabble a bit.
Unfortunately, I need to do a lot more dabbling before I decide my career as a professional film editor can indeed be a reality. There's no Apex Tech waiting for this future mechanic to call in when it comes to video editing, I can assure you. Aside from my lack of patience in finding a millisecond in a haystack (comprising more than five hours of video), I wasn’t and am not currently satisfied with the software out there. It’s clunky, shaky and anything but intuitive. That last part isn’t a problem, actually; it “scares off any pain-in-the-ass innocent bystanders” (thanks, Clemenza, I’ll take the connoli). But the problem isn’t that it’s difficult, the problem is it’s mystifying.
Make a long story short: I took a Simpsons video (a collection of four DVD’s comprising that show’s second season) and, using a nifty piece of unnamed software, “ripped” (electronically copied all of the data thereon) the second disc onto my hard drive. Then I fed it through another program – a “video frameserver” – and got that sucker ready for yet another program to clean it up, size it up and serve it up so I could put it yet elsewhere – on my Palm.
Yep, all this work for basically nothing. But – much like the little blue fizzy thing that undulates to the bottom of a flushing toilet, I’m getting closer to converting the family movies to full-on DVD status.
As I alluded yesterday, and as Damian Kulash suggested in the piece to which I linked yesterday, this copy protection stuff – in a word – stinks. First of all, it really makes watching/listening/enjoying the media you own, whether on DVD, CD or online – a pain in the ass. For those of you who don’t know, DVD’s sold in this country are – for the most part – region-coded. That means that if you drag your ass over to J&R Music World and buy Madagascar on DVD, it will likely work just fine in your Aunt Edna’s home theater DVD player. But take that disc on a trip overseas – to England, for example – and that disc is more worthless than an Ethiopian at a Sumo Wrestling tournament.
And before any of you smartasses respond with a “Yeah, but Boogie, that’s because England has a different type of TV setup over there – called PAL.” Yeah, and they also have an inferior comprehension of cosmetic dentistry. But the PAL/NTSC disparity has nothing to do with it. Discs to be used in England have a “Region 2” coding, which means if I buy Madagascar there and bring it here, it will be unplayable.
The reason why I have devoted bandwidth and time to this less-than-enticing slice of my life is simple: I wound up buying a DVD of a film released only in England, and it took me the better part of a couple years (and a couple of weeks’ at night and weekends) to convert the thing so I could painlessly watch this disc – that I legitimately own – at my leisure.
I understand the problems inherent with digital reproduction and file-sharing and profit and margin and the fact that one kid in Sweden who figured out how to crack DVD copy protection probably cost Sony and the other multi-media conglomerates $50 to $100 million a year. I understand that record companies are desperate to ebb the flow of pirated music floating around file-sharing networks all over the place. And I understand the fact that people, given the opportunity to do the right thing, find a way not to.
Having said all that, I think it boils down to the question of whether people will accept excessive prices for media – CD’s, movies, software – or if they will let record companies know they are willing to pay if the cost is reasonable. Google the stats on Apple’s iTunes store, which enables a user to pay $1.28 (incl. tax) to download a song. Instant gratification – no waiting for UPS, FedEx, DHL or Mike’s Courier and Pizza Service, to show up with a banged-up cardboard box containing a CD you’ll absolutely adore for about four minutes and seventeen seconds. I’ve tried iTunes – for the most part, I don’t find a need for it (I’ve got about 8,000 cd’s littered around my apartment in boxes, racks, shelves and drawers). But I did download a few tunes I’d been searching for – I even considered buying the albums on which said tunes were released. But who the hell would pay $12 for The Best of The Tubes when all I really wanted – don’t ask me why – is “She’s a Beauty?” Ditto for Weird Al Yankovic’s “Dare To Be Stupid” for the tune “Yoda.” Again, don’t ask me why – trust me, I’m well aware revealing these two degenerative musical choices don’t earn me cache in anyone’s book, save a 14-year-old acne-riddled pre-pubescent babysitter from Topeka (yeah, I know you’re reading).
Short and long: until we find a way to make digital media – DVD’s, CD’s, e-books and TV – relatively usable under some auspice of protection, it’s going to be difficult, painful and pricey to own and enjoy. I can understand why there is a legitimate need – and there is – to curb the flow of piracy of this stuff. But I also think that if it’s done poorly, or adds ridiculous hoops through which the average, legitimate buyer must pass through to get to his/her e-media, then the problems will remain.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go listen to the best of Abba.
Yes, I’m kidding – and thank god for that.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Another Record
The last few days have been a veritable goulash of excitement, activity, stress and temperature. Aside from the fact that I've been working at home and getting next-to-no sleep, I've been trying to assemble a plan for New Year's Eve for Kaia and I and some friends. We finally nailed down our plans, which is a plus, but since the temperature went from winter-bearable to winter-record low, I got sicker and sicker until I landed in bed this afternoon with a slight infection.
Since I've got a deadline next week, I'm not planning on slowing down any time soon, but the less I'm outdoors the better. This kind of cold weather inspires people to forgo fashion sense and do whatever is necessary to avoid typical December weather; so I've got gloves, scarves, ear-wraps (replete with iPod connectors) and hats. The stuff of excitement it isn't, but on the plus side, since it's the first real awful weather we've had, it should kill off the novely thereof pretty soon, and I'll happily move onto more exciting topics :)
Speaking of which, close on the heels of Sony's embarassing (and short-lived) foray into including hidden anti-piracy software on its cd's (which led to all sorts of issues, including the installation of spyware and the opportunity to open the door for hackers to send out virii to the user), I did a search for some of the offending CD's on the list of infected/recalled CD's and I discovered that most of them were freely (and illegally) available online.
Since I first encountered freely-available music (in the form of mp3 files) through Napster and elsewhere, I usually downloaded stuff which was even mildly interesting, and then -- once I had the opportunity to listen to it -- I'd either go out and buy legit copies thereof or I'd dump the downloaded music and move on. I figured I'd done the "$13 for one CD for one good song" thing long enough, and since I rarely listen to the radio (I've got an iPod -- why would I?), checking what's new online is even better than having friends tell me "Dude, you NEED to check out this new album by The Weedyankers." And more importantly, even if I opted to check out the newest from The Weedyankers, if I decided it was crap -- which I usually do more often than not -- spending $13 for the privelege is far from what I consider an ideal musical endeavor. So I took a shareware approach to music: try before you buy has worked for software, for the PalmOS, and for every product stamped with the "As Seen On TV" logo.
Make a long story short: many, if not all of you, know that the RIAA and the MPAA has gone fast and furious after anyone sharing music. Kids, parents, grandparents and college students have all been targeted by these "e-raids," and while I won't even bother dipping a toe into the "who owns music" vs. copyright issues, I think there's a better, real-world explanation available via the New York Times; Damian Kulash Jr.'s article, "Buy, Play, Trade, Repeat" sums it up pretty damn nicely. You'll need to sign up at the Times, but it's worth it: and what kind of degenerate are you that you would read this space and not the New York Times?
In either case, getting back to the original problem of Sony's monumental fuck-up, it seems to me to be a bit ironic that those people who did the right thing -- ie, went out and purchased one or more of the CD's on the aforelinked list -- wound up getting screwed, whereas those of us who opted (initially, at least) to download before buying were safe. I gave Santana's "All That I Am" a listen, and while I respect Santana's musical talent and sensibilities, I find that by the fourth song on every album he's released in the last twenty years suffers from the same upper-fret malaise that take a decent song and make it boring. So I deleted it.
Conversely, those among us who plunked down $15 of their hard-earned dollars are now still trying to fight through ad-ware, spyware, crapware and the occasional back-door Sony's copy protection installed on their PC's. Can you imagine if you bought a CD, brought it to your office to listen at work, only to find you compromised your office network -- all because Sony wants to protect its profit margin? The very thought of that possibility must send shivers up and down the spines of network admins from Miami to Vancouver. And yet, somehow, somewhere, there are kids in basements, huddled over keyboards in dimly-lit rooms chuckling over that very possibility.
Needless to say, caveat emptor, which once applied to anything you download from unknown sources, should, and will hereafter, apply to anything you purchase and stick into your CD-Rom drive. It's nice to see that the MPAA and the RIAA, yet again, have shown us how high their standards are, and what happens to people whose principles get in the way of profit.
Honor among thieves? Are we talking about people downloading the music, or those -- in utter futility -- trying to prevent them from doing so?
Ed. Note: I've gotten a bunch of e-mails asking about those iPod-compatible ear-wraps: they aren't the prettiest but they are great -- and available here.
Since I've got a deadline next week, I'm not planning on slowing down any time soon, but the less I'm outdoors the better. This kind of cold weather inspires people to forgo fashion sense and do whatever is necessary to avoid typical December weather; so I've got gloves, scarves, ear-wraps (replete with iPod connectors) and hats. The stuff of excitement it isn't, but on the plus side, since it's the first real awful weather we've had, it should kill off the novely thereof pretty soon, and I'll happily move onto more exciting topics :)
Speaking of which, close on the heels of Sony's embarassing (and short-lived) foray into including hidden anti-piracy software on its cd's (which led to all sorts of issues, including the installation of spyware and the opportunity to open the door for hackers to send out virii to the user), I did a search for some of the offending CD's on the list of infected/recalled CD's and I discovered that most of them were freely (and illegally) available online.
Since I first encountered freely-available music (in the form of mp3 files) through Napster and elsewhere, I usually downloaded stuff which was even mildly interesting, and then -- once I had the opportunity to listen to it -- I'd either go out and buy legit copies thereof or I'd dump the downloaded music and move on. I figured I'd done the "$13 for one CD for one good song" thing long enough, and since I rarely listen to the radio (I've got an iPod -- why would I?), checking what's new online is even better than having friends tell me "Dude, you NEED to check out this new album by The Weedyankers." And more importantly, even if I opted to check out the newest from The Weedyankers, if I decided it was crap -- which I usually do more often than not -- spending $13 for the privelege is far from what I consider an ideal musical endeavor. So I took a shareware approach to music: try before you buy has worked for software, for the PalmOS, and for every product stamped with the "As Seen On TV" logo.
Make a long story short: many, if not all of you, know that the RIAA and the MPAA has gone fast and furious after anyone sharing music. Kids, parents, grandparents and college students have all been targeted by these "e-raids," and while I won't even bother dipping a toe into the "who owns music" vs. copyright issues, I think there's a better, real-world explanation available via the New York Times; Damian Kulash Jr.'s article, "Buy, Play, Trade, Repeat" sums it up pretty damn nicely. You'll need to sign up at the Times, but it's worth it: and what kind of degenerate are you that you would read this space and not the New York Times?
In either case, getting back to the original problem of Sony's monumental fuck-up, it seems to me to be a bit ironic that those people who did the right thing -- ie, went out and purchased one or more of the CD's on the aforelinked list -- wound up getting screwed, whereas those of us who opted (initially, at least) to download before buying were safe. I gave Santana's "All That I Am" a listen, and while I respect Santana's musical talent and sensibilities, I find that by the fourth song on every album he's released in the last twenty years suffers from the same upper-fret malaise that take a decent song and make it boring. So I deleted it.
Conversely, those among us who plunked down $15 of their hard-earned dollars are now still trying to fight through ad-ware, spyware, crapware and the occasional back-door Sony's copy protection installed on their PC's. Can you imagine if you bought a CD, brought it to your office to listen at work, only to find you compromised your office network -- all because Sony wants to protect its profit margin? The very thought of that possibility must send shivers up and down the spines of network admins from Miami to Vancouver. And yet, somehow, somewhere, there are kids in basements, huddled over keyboards in dimly-lit rooms chuckling over that very possibility.
Needless to say, caveat emptor, which once applied to anything you download from unknown sources, should, and will hereafter, apply to anything you purchase and stick into your CD-Rom drive. It's nice to see that the MPAA and the RIAA, yet again, have shown us how high their standards are, and what happens to people whose principles get in the way of profit.
Honor among thieves? Are we talking about people downloading the music, or those -- in utter futility -- trying to prevent them from doing so?
Ed. Note: I've gotten a bunch of e-mails asking about those iPod-compatible ear-wraps: they aren't the prettiest but they are great -- and available here.
Monday, December 05, 2005
The Missing Rainbow aka Morning Decolletage
The air was crisp as I came out of the dream; the temp reading on the sound-soother was somewhere around 65 and I'm inclined to believe it. I jammed the window closed, returned to bed, and then, as morning arrived slowly, I slowly emerged from my cocoon.
Waking up early -- at 5:45AM, for example -- on a weekend morning is a dicey proposition. If it's for something concrete -- say, a fishing trip or for a vacation flight or for a hockey practice/game, fine. But if it's a mass de-programming from a hard, stressful, long, frustrating week -- well, waking up that early for no good reason doesn't go very far in alleviating any of those symptoms in the first place.
I decided early on that I wouldn't be doing much this weekend; I was already halfway to being sick -- lots of friends have been fighting colds that have lasted weeks -- so between that, the snow that fell in NYC late Friday night, and the wind chill that reminded me of February of this past year, I had no problem spending time in front of the PC, the TV, and on the phone with my other half.
So -- in essence -- I have very little, if anything, to report. I'm still hovering between sickness and full-on 100% ready-to-go, and where exactly I'm at is a question whose answer changes from hour to hour. At the moment, I'm listening to Jack Johnson's "Brushfire Fairytales" rather than Popa Chubby's "Booty And The Beast," so if you know me and/or know both of those albums, you'll have a pretty good idea where I'm at. If not, know that I'd much rather be in bed rather than contemplating facing a Monday morning.
I think it's officially Winter.
Ugh.
Waking up early -- at 5:45AM, for example -- on a weekend morning is a dicey proposition. If it's for something concrete -- say, a fishing trip or for a vacation flight or for a hockey practice/game, fine. But if it's a mass de-programming from a hard, stressful, long, frustrating week -- well, waking up that early for no good reason doesn't go very far in alleviating any of those symptoms in the first place.
I decided early on that I wouldn't be doing much this weekend; I was already halfway to being sick -- lots of friends have been fighting colds that have lasted weeks -- so between that, the snow that fell in NYC late Friday night, and the wind chill that reminded me of February of this past year, I had no problem spending time in front of the PC, the TV, and on the phone with my other half.
So -- in essence -- I have very little, if anything, to report. I'm still hovering between sickness and full-on 100% ready-to-go, and where exactly I'm at is a question whose answer changes from hour to hour. At the moment, I'm listening to Jack Johnson's "Brushfire Fairytales" rather than Popa Chubby's "Booty And The Beast," so if you know me and/or know both of those albums, you'll have a pretty good idea where I'm at. If not, know that I'd much rather be in bed rather than contemplating facing a Monday morning.
I think it's officially Winter.
Ugh.
Friday, December 02, 2005
The Goods, The Bads, The In-Betweens and The Singapore Sling
As if the fever pitch couldn't be wound any tighter, last night was a barrage of reminders of to-do items, errands, requirements, pitfalls and needs. Aside from Kaia, there was far too much shit hitting the fan, and since we were out of sync -- she with stuff on her end, me with stuff on mine -- it was a tough early part of the evening. The saving grace, of course, is that no matter when, where or why she and I speak, I always manage to smile. I'm not sure if it's seeing her picture on the caller ID on my cellphone, hearing her distinctive ring or knowing it's her as I'm moving through the darkness in my apartment; but whenever she and I connect, it's like putting flame to a pile of dried leaves, only without the weird, burnt smell.
Around 10 last night my phone rang, and, assuming it was Kaia, without plying my eyes from the spreadsheet on my screen, I grabbed it. It actually turned out to be a friend of mine from Georgia-cum-DC-cum-Singapore; he's from a town outside Atlanta, but when he got married he and his wife picked DC to live; however, since he works for Habitat for Humanity, he's been on the road, and the last few months, that road has led to Singapore.
I'm not sure if he has a calling card or if he was calling me from his office (odds are the latter, as he's 13 hours ahead) but we wound up talking for thirty or forty minutes; essentially, I gave him a run-down of the last six weeks in my world, and he gave me a quick run down of the last six weeks in his. I also, genuinely, told him I felt badly not speaking to him over Thanksgiving or giving him more detail sooner, but it's hard to share personal stuff as impersonally as in e-mail, and I'm the last person that sends a "Call me" e-mail -- especially to people halfway around the world, no matter how dear the friend.
So in short, we caught up a bit and it was good; Once again, amid the business and personal hailstorms I find myself in, it's always good to check in with friends that have served as anchors over the years. I hope it's reciprocal, but these days I am going out of my way not to seek out help or assistance or anyone on whom to lean; it just happens that they manage to show up every now and again and remind it's okay if I wanna.
Like I've said elsewhere herein, every day is Thanksgiving.
Recently I had a conversation with my grandmother, who has said to me on a number of occasions that she feels badly if she's being a burden. I tell her not to worry and that she's not a burden and that things could be a lot worse.
It occurred to me I should take my own advice.
Around 10 last night my phone rang, and, assuming it was Kaia, without plying my eyes from the spreadsheet on my screen, I grabbed it. It actually turned out to be a friend of mine from Georgia-cum-DC-cum-Singapore; he's from a town outside Atlanta, but when he got married he and his wife picked DC to live; however, since he works for Habitat for Humanity, he's been on the road, and the last few months, that road has led to Singapore.
I'm not sure if he has a calling card or if he was calling me from his office (odds are the latter, as he's 13 hours ahead) but we wound up talking for thirty or forty minutes; essentially, I gave him a run-down of the last six weeks in my world, and he gave me a quick run down of the last six weeks in his. I also, genuinely, told him I felt badly not speaking to him over Thanksgiving or giving him more detail sooner, but it's hard to share personal stuff as impersonally as in e-mail, and I'm the last person that sends a "Call me" e-mail -- especially to people halfway around the world, no matter how dear the friend.
So in short, we caught up a bit and it was good; Once again, amid the business and personal hailstorms I find myself in, it's always good to check in with friends that have served as anchors over the years. I hope it's reciprocal, but these days I am going out of my way not to seek out help or assistance or anyone on whom to lean; it just happens that they manage to show up every now and again and remind it's okay if I wanna.
Like I've said elsewhere herein, every day is Thanksgiving.
Recently I had a conversation with my grandmother, who has said to me on a number of occasions that she feels badly if she's being a burden. I tell her not to worry and that she's not a burden and that things could be a lot worse.
It occurred to me I should take my own advice.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Bittersweet: One Week, A Mirror, Three Hours and Reflection
I didn't know I'd been away from here until I noticed that Thursday was rapidly approaching. But nonetheless, it had been a week, and it went by extremely quickly on the one hand, and yet -- unfortunately -- excruciatingly slowly on the other. So I apologize for the much-needed delay; if it's not clear to you once you've concluded this post, please feel free to rant, posture and/or complain accordingly.
First, I hope any- and everyone reading this had a good Thanksgiving; meaning, one way or the other, that in fifty-one weeks from now, you will recall this past Thanksgiving with fond memories. Perhaps the turkey tasted like the rear bumper of a 1974 Chevelle; maybe the mashed potatoes smelled like Aunt Edna's mildewy closet; and maybe, just maybe, Uncle Dave decided to get drunk and flash the neighbors -- again. The bottom line: if you went home (and/or to sleep that night) with a smile, it was Good.
To (perhaps excessively) expound on this theme, people generally refer to Thanksgiving as a uniquely American holiday. In many ways, I think this is accurate; it's non-denominational, it glorifies the excesses that we as a country espouse, and it's the one day that "More! More! More!" is not merely an unofficial slogan but also an official one.
I spent the day with my immediate family; my grandmother was home and didn't make the trip, as she'd been feeling under the weather. We did some cooking and some food prep, but for the most part, the food -- as if by magic -- appeared, care of my mom, so we spent much of the day itself noshing on a variety of stuff. I'd picked up some champagne pate, a triple baguette from Eli's, a variety of dips and cheeses (Brie with herbs and garlic -- holy shit) and some other miscellaneous treats. On top of that, we had some goodies in the form of stuffed mushrooms, an Italian bread stuffed with mozzarella and spinach, more cheese/veggie platters, homemade sweet potato fries and a holiday cranberry jello mold. And while the food -- and these were just the day-nosh -- was great, this was the second consecutive Thanksgiving that had some somber overtones, especially with my grandmother not with us. But inasmuch as that and other things weighed on us, I actually came out of this Thanksgiving realizing what it's all really about.
It's not about being thankful for anything specifically, at least necessarily; meaning, it's nice to be thankful for those great tennis shoes your Aunt Petunia brought you back from Nova Scotia, but it's more about being thankful for the people in your life, and who've been in your life, over the past year, and, perhaps, over the coming one as well. On some level, it's absolutely acceptable to extoll the virtues of the thermal long-john underwear you received from Ned at the auto-parts store; but it's more about Ned, or whomever, than it is for any material thing. I think that the overindulging excess of the holiday, whether by design or not, actually signifies the concept that Thanksgiving is a day on which you should not want for anything, whether it's food, family, friends or happiness. This year especially, I can affirm that, aside from my grandmother's absence, the day lived up to its mission.
Well, that's not entirely true; Kaia being on the West Coast also left me wanting, but until we're spending every day together, that will continue to be true. But having her in my life makes me happy, so even if she wasn't in my presence, she was and will always be in my heart.
Meanwhile, with last year's events firmly entrenched in our minds, the celebration was somewhat subdued. So the notion of potential loss heightened, at least for me, the experience of being so thankful for the people and things I have in my life. It's not merely being thankful they're there, it's knowing that one day they won't be, and savoring and enjoying these days now, while we're all together.
Coupled with these bittersweet icons and emotions, I spent the last week trying to wrap up this year's Thanksgiving; we as a family had a great time and spent it together. My dad sat in the kitchen with my mother while my sister floated around the oven juggling containers of potatoes, stuffing, green beans almondine and the aforementioned sweet potato fries. I dutifully carved the turkey methodically (as mandated by the Food Network turkey-carving instructions), all the while avoiding Ozzie underfoot and not severing any digits (mine or anyone else's). And that is as much a part of this year's Thanksgiving memory as any for me. The food was wonderful, but I didn't eat much; the football was okay, though I didn't watch much. The company was great, and I had my fill, and would go back for seconds in a heartbeat.
Hope yours was everything you wanted it to be.
First, I hope any- and everyone reading this had a good Thanksgiving; meaning, one way or the other, that in fifty-one weeks from now, you will recall this past Thanksgiving with fond memories. Perhaps the turkey tasted like the rear bumper of a 1974 Chevelle; maybe the mashed potatoes smelled like Aunt Edna's mildewy closet; and maybe, just maybe, Uncle Dave decided to get drunk and flash the neighbors -- again. The bottom line: if you went home (and/or to sleep that night) with a smile, it was Good.
To (perhaps excessively) expound on this theme, people generally refer to Thanksgiving as a uniquely American holiday. In many ways, I think this is accurate; it's non-denominational, it glorifies the excesses that we as a country espouse, and it's the one day that "More! More! More!" is not merely an unofficial slogan but also an official one.
I spent the day with my immediate family; my grandmother was home and didn't make the trip, as she'd been feeling under the weather. We did some cooking and some food prep, but for the most part, the food -- as if by magic -- appeared, care of my mom, so we spent much of the day itself noshing on a variety of stuff. I'd picked up some champagne pate, a triple baguette from Eli's, a variety of dips and cheeses (Brie with herbs and garlic -- holy shit) and some other miscellaneous treats. On top of that, we had some goodies in the form of stuffed mushrooms, an Italian bread stuffed with mozzarella and spinach, more cheese/veggie platters, homemade sweet potato fries and a holiday cranberry jello mold. And while the food -- and these were just the day-nosh -- was great, this was the second consecutive Thanksgiving that had some somber overtones, especially with my grandmother not with us. But inasmuch as that and other things weighed on us, I actually came out of this Thanksgiving realizing what it's all really about.
It's not about being thankful for anything specifically, at least necessarily; meaning, it's nice to be thankful for those great tennis shoes your Aunt Petunia brought you back from Nova Scotia, but it's more about being thankful for the people in your life, and who've been in your life, over the past year, and, perhaps, over the coming one as well. On some level, it's absolutely acceptable to extoll the virtues of the thermal long-john underwear you received from Ned at the auto-parts store; but it's more about Ned, or whomever, than it is for any material thing. I think that the overindulging excess of the holiday, whether by design or not, actually signifies the concept that Thanksgiving is a day on which you should not want for anything, whether it's food, family, friends or happiness. This year especially, I can affirm that, aside from my grandmother's absence, the day lived up to its mission.
Well, that's not entirely true; Kaia being on the West Coast also left me wanting, but until we're spending every day together, that will continue to be true. But having her in my life makes me happy, so even if she wasn't in my presence, she was and will always be in my heart.
Meanwhile, with last year's events firmly entrenched in our minds, the celebration was somewhat subdued. So the notion of potential loss heightened, at least for me, the experience of being so thankful for the people and things I have in my life. It's not merely being thankful they're there, it's knowing that one day they won't be, and savoring and enjoying these days now, while we're all together.
Coupled with these bittersweet icons and emotions, I spent the last week trying to wrap up this year's Thanksgiving; we as a family had a great time and spent it together. My dad sat in the kitchen with my mother while my sister floated around the oven juggling containers of potatoes, stuffing, green beans almondine and the aforementioned sweet potato fries. I dutifully carved the turkey methodically (as mandated by the Food Network turkey-carving instructions), all the while avoiding Ozzie underfoot and not severing any digits (mine or anyone else's). And that is as much a part of this year's Thanksgiving memory as any for me. The food was wonderful, but I didn't eat much; the football was okay, though I didn't watch much. The company was great, and I had my fill, and would go back for seconds in a heartbeat.
Hope yours was everything you wanted it to be.
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