Archive for October, 2008
People have been asking me this for the past couple of weeks and I have to say, for the most part, I don’t understand the question. I’m a grown up. Without children. Who doesn’t drink. What on earth would I be doing on Halloween? It strikes me largely as a holiday for kids and drunken young adults to dress up and annoy the shit out of normal folk.
But now I have an answer to the question and a rather cool one at that! I’ll be attending a showing of The Phantom of the Opera at the Michigan Theater. Not the screechy Andrew Lloyd Weber Broadway crapfest, but the original 1925 Lon Chaney silent film. The theater’s organist will be playing the soundtrack live and — get this — my friend Maggie Grady will be singing the heroine’s arias live, along with the film.
How cool is that? Very. Suitably Halloween-y for a grown up. And no costume required. If you’re in Ann Arbor, you should totally go.
October 30th, 2008
It’s less than a week away.
Can you stand it? Can you even stand it?
October 29th, 2008
Next month, the weekend after Thanksgiving, my 20 year high school reunion is slated to take place in Louisville. Let me repeat that so that shock can sink in: twenty years. Consequently, there has been a flurry of recent activity via email and, of all places, Facebook as members of my high school class seek out one another and send missives and messages about The Big Event.
If you know me at all, you can probably safely guess that I’m not going. Logistics aside — it’s a long trip and we have family slated to come here to Michigan for turkey day and blah blah blah — I’m just not the reunion-y type. I don’t even watch TV shows where people reunite. Truth be told, I didn’t love high school and I’m wildly suspicious of anyone who did. I mean, you meet those people for whom high school was the best years of their lives and I can’t help but think they’ve done something wrong since then. At the very least, college should have been way better if for no other reason than lack of parental supervision and access to greater quantity and/or quality of drugs.
As much as I like to play that tiny violin, high school probably wasn’t as torturous and lonely and miserable as I like to make it out. It’s possible — nay, probable — that I had some fun, I had some friends. How bad can the years be when you first get high, smoke menthol cigarettes until you vomit or drink Bacardi 151 until you pass out? Good times.
In fact, I’m finding that I probably had more friends than I remember or maybe than I realized at the time. (Although I think time blurs all that and when you can’t really remember people from high school, you all just act like you were friends even if they kicked your head in and stuffed you in a locker every afternoon.) I do think that there is a necessary and natural selection process that occurs post-graduation. You stay in touch with the people who meant the most to you or, if nothing else, with whom you spent the greatest number of Friday nights, and if you fade out of each other’s lives, then Darwin would approve. After all, the odds that we as under-developed teen social blobs would know enough about ourselves and the world, let alone those around us, to form life long friendships are pretty slim.
That’s not to say that I’m absent any curiosity about what happened to this person or that. But technology has changed the stakes in that game. If you really want to know what happened to a classmate, a quick Google search can often answer your question and, if you’re so inclined, put you in touch. And the brilliant part is you never actually have to talk to them if you don’t want to. So you can find out if that asshole from home room was nailed for insider trading but you don’t have to feign civility over coffee. That’s brilliant!
Now Facebook — which I am sheepish to admit I enjoy immensely — has added a whole new dimension. You can easily find classmates, “friend” them and sort of keep tabs on them without actually having in-depth conversations. It’s deeply impersonal and completely superficial in the best way possible. It’s often just the right amount of curiosity-quenching contact you want with someone you haven’t seen in a coupla decades.
I’ve enjoyed exchanging messages with a few folk on Facebook, people I hadn’t talked to since graduation. But it seems to me that we’re sort of all caught up now, aren’t we? I mean, we know where we are, what we’re doing, all the major facts, etc. Which strikes me as the right level of information for relationships that exist squarely in the past. I’m not sure I see the point in taking it a step further. Yeah, yeah. I’m a curmudgeon.
I wonder sometimes if I’d had a happier high school experience, would I be more gung-ho about attending reunions like these? Maybe. All I know is that I’m finding ways to satisfy my curiosity without getting up fromm my desk. I’m not too crazy about that part of my past anyway and I really, really like my present. So I figure I’ll just hang out here for now.
October 23rd, 2008
I just have to say how thrilled at and proud of St. Louis I am right now, after an estimated 100,000 Obama supporters turned out for a rally downtown Saturday. (Check out the photograph in this Post-Dispatch story — the sea of people with the court house in the background is truly breathtaking.) It’s said to be his biggest crowd in the midwest to date.
What a lovely thing.
And while we’re on the topic, I’m still blown away by Colin Powell’s endorsement of Obama yesterday blew me away. This is Bush’s former secretary of state, people. A vocal and staunch Republican. If he’s willing to publicly acknowledge just how bad McCain would be for this nation, then I remain perplexed and stunned that anyone is still considering voting for that scary, sickly, cranky old man and his folksy frightening cohort.
October 20th, 2008
I just spent two evenings in a row at the lovely Hill Auditorium here in Ann Arbor. I don’t take nearly enough advantage of the fact that there is a constant stream of cultural events here in and around the university, but I think I’ve done my share this week.
Wednesday night, I went to see my friend Maggie — who is a senior voice performance major — sing in a chorale concert. Truth be told, I saw half the show — the half that she was in! — because the peeps I went with and I decided to get enchiladas at Sabor Latino during the orchestral part and pop in after intermission. For someone who was raised on classical music, I have to say I’m not good at sitting listening to an orchestra. I need something to look at. Like a book or knitting.
We sat right up in the front section for the chorale performance, which was basically a half hour mass. Beautiful, but again, probably five or ten minutes of mass is plenty for this heathen.
The next night we returned to Hill — in much further away seats, mind you — to see David Sedaris read. He decided not to read from his new book, but to treat us to some new and unpublished work which was, as would be expected, fantastic and very funny. I love the insider-y feeling of hearing his new stuff, especially that still in progress.
I love the fact that the pulls a little notebook out of his pocket and jots down notes, which I imagine are about what works and what doesn’t, for when he (by his own admission) goes back to his hotel room and reworks the pieces. It makes the audience feel like part of the writing process, which is nice. I’ve been feeling lately just how lonely and isolating the writing process can be and I imagine letting other people in has to alleviate some of that.
I also love that Sedaris is so generous with his time after the readings to meet with his fans. I’ve seen him several times and I haven’t ever lined up to have him sign a book or have a minute of chat with him but I’ve watched him do it. And it’s amazing how accessible he is, how real he is with people, how much he appreciates his readers. If I ever get any readers, I’m gonna appreciate the HELL out of them too.
October 17th, 2008
Yeah, maybe not that big a deal to you, but it is my First Pie Ever. (Actually, my first two pies ever, as I doubled up on the recipe.)
That’s right.
Made them — with help from my faithful assistant Sarah — using the Ida Reds we picked yesterday at the fruit farm. I used Martha Stewart’s pate brisee recipe for the crust and it turns out pie crust is pretty easy to make, so I don’t know what everyone’s always belly-achin’ about. I used Martha’s old fashioned apple pie recipe too, only I went Euro and left out the cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves and relied on just sugar and some lemon for flavor.
I forgot to take a pic before people dug in, so the shot above is what was left at evening’s end. Still pretty, no? And tasted pretty good, too. Not too tart and not too sweet, not laden with cloying spices. And I don’t know that I’ll become a piemaker or anything, but if anyone has tips for a pie crust that’s just a tad flakier, I’d be willing to listen.
October 13th, 2008
For some reason we’re having unbelievably warm weather here in Ann Arbor — I’m talkin’ high 70s. Thank you global warming! So when my friend Jason suggested we head to one of the local orchards for a little apple pickin’ yesterday, I was all for it. Or, you know, what passes for all for it for me.
We headed to Wasem Fruit Farm in Ypsilanti, Ann Arbor’s neighboring city as our friend Zak the Apparent Orchard Authority said it was the best. (This being Michigan, the area’s got several orchards and cider mills to choose from. Howzat for variety?)
It was bright, beautiful and sunny, perfect for frolicking among the perfect rows of trees, sampling different kinds of apples and filling up our 1/2 bushel bags. I’m a tart apple kind of gal, and since it’s not yet time for Granny Smiths yet, we stuck mostly with Ida Reds, a suitably tart, crisp substitute.
And lest I be accused of sticking with the healthy fare, it’s worth noting that Wasem also offers up some of the freshest, bestest donuts you’ll ever have in your life. We sampled a big bag full of blueberry, apple, pumpkin and plain donuts with your choice of vanilla icing, maple icing or no icing. They put most donuts to shame, I tell you. (Sorry no pics, but we ate them too fast, washing them down with fresh-pressed cider — while constantly dodging and weaving to avoid the onslaught of bees that were every bit as confused about the weather as we were.)
A few more snaps of the day:
Jason offering up his forbidden fruit while Zak does God-knows-what in the background.
Zak on his ladder.
Sarah, lovin’ her some caramel apple action.
Jason ‘n Jon.
Zak, Sarah and Chris — the blond orchard babes.
Jason ‘n Sarah.
More photos for the so-inclined here on my Flickr page.
October 12th, 2008
Blogging
I’ve been struggling with Wordpress, my blogging software, as of late. Seems whenever there’s an upgrade — or just randomly — I lose the ability to log in and write blog entries. Seems renaming the old plug ins folder (through FTP access to the server) and creating a new, empty plug ins folder does the trick. I mention it here on the off chance any of you have encountered the same problem and are ready to pull your hair out.
Reading
I rarely read Maureen Dowd, but I have to say that her October 4 column in the New York Times hits on two things I despise passionately: Sarah Palin and bad grammar.
On the book front, I’m digging into author Jennifer Traig’s second memoir of sorts, “Well Enough Alone.” It’s an often very funny glimpse at hyponchondria as a historical phenomenon and its impact on her own life. (In a strange, small-world turn of events, it seems Traig is married to an acquaintance of mine and has recently moved to Ann Arbor. Hoping I’ll get to meet her soon.)
Skipping
Yesterday, I had the opportunity — and free tickets — to see Bruce Springsteen perform a live acoustic set at an Obama rally at Eastern Michigan University. While I thought it would be a cool thing to witness, the truth is — as much as it borders on blasphemy among many of my pals — I’m just not that into Springsteen. I appreciate the dude as a member of the prole. I admire his unabashed use of politics in his music, including the oft misunderstood and misappropriated “Born in the USA.” (Why do both parties use this song at their conventions without listening to the lyrics and realizing it’s ironic?)
However, I had much on my plate and the chilly, grey day didn’t help convince me to trek over and brave the crowds in the middle of a work day to see him. Will I regret it? Maybe. But I got my work done and slept fine last night, so really, it can’t have been that erroneous a choice.
Watching
We just got in the first DVD of the last season of Slings & Arrows, which we’ve been enjoying for the past few months. It’s still sitting in its Netflix wrapper, unopened, as we’re painfully aware we’re about to embark on the last six episodes of the show. Then it’s over. Done. We’ll have to move on. And I’ll miss it. Good stuff.
Fortunately, I have everything else to distract me. And I do mean everything else. Over the summer, we bit the bullet and got satellite cable, which came with DVR. Which — will all due respect to electricity and penecillin and the like — is the best thing every invented. Or, if you’re keeping track of how much TV it means I’m watching, perhaps the worst.
The new seasons of shows are starting and that means the episodes are lining up in my DVR like good little soldiers, waiting until I feel like watching them. And fast-forwarding over the commercials. Oh, Dr. House and your ridiculously improbable cases, how good it is to have you back! Californication and Dexter, yay! Boston Legal, Law & Order SVU, Dirty Sexy Money, The Office, Ugly Betty, Pushing Daisies, how I’ve missed you! And while I’d never confess in a public forum to watching such ludicrous brain-cell-stealers as Gossip Girl and the new 90210, well, I’m not saying I’m not watching them either.
In fact, what am I doing typing this when I could be watching TV?
October 7th, 2008
1. Leaves. Orangey and red and crunchy and on the ground waiting for you to shuffle through them. There’s a school down the block from us and when the kids get out at 3 o’clock I can hear them shuffling through leaves just outside my office window. So even if I’m inside, I can HEAR fall.
2. Bright sunny days with a crisp chill in the air. Turns out Michigan excels at this. (It puts on a good spring, too, but this is it’s time to shine.)
3. Sweaters and general bundling-up-ness. The aforementioned should be worn, preferably, with your comfiest jeans and maybe some old boots you’ve been dying to drag out of storage.
4. Soups and stews. I’m not the world’s best cook, but it’s hard to go wrong tossing a hodge-podge of produce together and making something warm and hearty. It impresses people disproportionately.
5. Knitting. Sure, I dabble a little in knitting all year round, but fall’s when the weight and texture of the yarns really catch my eye again and the idea of hauling around a big, wooly project doesn’t seem like insanity.
6. Taking pictures. I enjoy it year-round, but trying to capture the brilliant hues of autumn is one of my very favorite things. Even if all my shots come out looking like Audobon Society calendars. Whatever.
*In case you were wondering.
October 2nd, 2008