Stacked!

Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in potential, pages of it in fact.  Drowning in books that I haven't opened because my head was turned by something else, or that I've abandoned because what lay within its pages wasn't as instantly addictive as I had hoped.  Below are just a few of the contenders for my next read, concluding with my current read, which I am determined to make it through.

Boy, Snow, Bird by Helen Oyeyemi-  I am a sucker for Fairy Tales.  They cut through the bullshit and get right to the core of things.  Some people are good, some are evil, some beautiful people are clothed in the mask of beasts, dead people can talk to you through trees, and when you are nice to the world it will be nice to you back when you least expect it and most need it.  It's a brutal, but hopeful world where good triumphs in the end even if a few fingers or heels get cut off, or children are sold into indebted servitude, it will turn out right.  So when I heard that this latest novel by Helen Oyeyemi was a re-telling of the Snow White story which takes place in mid-twentieth century America?  I bit.  It digs deep into our feelings of race and beauty and what it means to be "good"?  Yes please.  One of the protagonists (in the role equivalent to the Evil Queen) is a Hitchcockian blonde?  All right already!!  And yet, in it's first fifteen pages as I lay drowsily in bed, it did not hook me.  And so, on the pile it goes, to sit until I have more resolve.

Not Without You by Harriet Evans-  A young woman in the forties becomes a major film star, and in the present day, a rising star who idolizes her begins to unravel the mysteries she left behind.  It's been likened to the films of Douglas Sirk in book form. 

A Stranger In A Strange Land, 1984, One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Slaughter-house Five, In Cold Blood-  These books I picked up in a surge of desire to read some of the great works that I've always wanted to dip my feet into and understand.  And yet, I haven't yet.  There's always something newer, and shiner, and less stalwart and true that attracts me before I truly give these a shot.  And yet, I own them, they sit in my home, so they are one step closer to being read by me.  Sometimes I wish you could soak books up like sunlight, just hold them close and absorb their wisdom.

Dorothy Must Die by some chick I'll probably end up resenting-  How much easier it is to cannabilize on a masterpiece than to write one from scratch.  I say "cannibalize" because this writer literally takes the heroes of the story and turns them into villains.  Dorothy, the Tinman, The Scarecrow, The Cowardly Lion?  They turned out to be real assholes and are enslaving all of Oz.  Glinda?  Grade-A bitch.  Who's the true heroine?  The character this chick dreamt up using as a template the very heroine she shits upon in print.  And still, I have to give it a shot even though this has already been done to death and I wasn't too pleased with the results of previous efforts.

You Must Remember This by Robert Wagner and some ghost writer-  An appreciation of the Hollywood way of life back in its golden age.  I checked it out from the library as part of research for a current project I'm working on, or projects I'm hoping to work on.  As fascinated as I am with Hollywood in its hey-day, it helps to know what the day to day life was like, even if it is a rose tinted semblance of it.

The Trip To Echo Spring by Olivia Lang-  The relationship between writers and alcohol is one that hasn't really been written about in depth, and it's something I've always been intrigued by.  In part, because I had fantasies that a couple shots would release my genius, and set me on a course of  typing that Kerouac would envy and that would lead to sleepless nights and pages full of heartbreaking wonder.  This is also the reason I've sometimes wanted to get my hands on Benzedrine.  Yes I know it's a terrible drug, and led to a life of sometimes Hell for one of my heroines, and yet, those writers in the the thirties and forties got A LOT of shit done!!!  Anyway, this book focuses on a couple of my favorites (Tennessee Williams and F.Scott Fitzgerald) one that I'm curious to know more about (Hemingway) and a few I really know nothing more than the superficial (Raymond Carver, John Cheever).  It's part group bio and part travelogue and it's not been cohesive enough, so far, to keep my attention.  I recently abandoned it to read my latest book...

10% Happier by Dan Harris-  My current book.  I'm nearly a hundred pages in and I'm hooked.  I don't recall ever having seen Harris on television, but his story of neuroses tamed through meditation, and his search for productivity without the hair pulling is readable and relatable.  Hopefully the answers he finds will prove applicable.

Roadside Humor

There's a gas station on Brodie Lane, appropriately named "Brodie Mart", that I must rarely drive by at night, as it's only recently that I've noticed the neon sign...

As nice as it is to imagine that the other letters died out purely by coincidence, and that this is proof of a Divine sense of humor, a glance at the liquor store next door thoroughly convinced me otherwise...

 

 

Well played, business owners, well played.



The Beauty and Courage of Marian Anderson

Yesterday was the 75th anniversary of Marian Anderson's historic concern at The Lincoln Monument.  The story itself is truly moving, and a terrific example of courageous people coming together to do the right thing.   It's always been one of my favorite historical events, and every time I see footage of Marian standing in front of that bank of microphones before thousands of people, I'm struck by how regal, how graceful, and how brave she is and feel what I imagine to be a fraction of what it was like to witness that moment.

 

 

And yet, as important as this moment is, I feel like individual attention should be paid to Marian and her voice, because they stand on their own as worthy of awe.   The spiritual "Deep River" is one of many stirring performances...

 

 

 





Tell Your Story

"You own everything that happened to you.  Tell your stories.  If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better."--  Anne Lamott

This quote really resonates with me, and probably does with most writers.  Of course I keep things to myself for fear of hurting the feelings of those I love, and if I'm honest with myself I keep just as much to myself for fear of the repercussions of the ones I...don't love.  I mean, society demands that we keep quiet about those feelings, and we certainly wouldn't want them to leak out and bite us in the ass later.  But if we are writers?  If we want to be story tellers?  Aren't those the very stories we should tell?  Stories with meat, heat, and emotion?

Be A Huge Part of the Creative Process in Austin

 

   Hi Every one!  I'm reaching out to you to connect with you about Amplify Austin, the 24 Hour Festival of Giving to the Austin Community.  Specifically I want to deeply encourage you to give to Zilker Productions, and to tell you what it has meant to me, and why I it will make you feel good in your heart to give to this organization. 

Click here to give now

     My family and I moved to Austin when I was eight, and pretty much since then, the Zilker Summer Musical has been a part of my life.  As an audience member?  It was something we could do as a family, that was free, outside at an Austin Institution, Zilker Park.  We could join together with the literally thousands of people who saw this show each night.  And for two to three hours I got to be with my family and take a moment to dream.  I would save the programs, and pour over them later, draw my own versions of the illustrations on the front...basically just bliss out on everything Zilker.  It was my Broadway and one of my first dreams as a performer was to be up there someday.   

     The Zilker Summer Musical has been here for over fifty years encouraging people (kids, artists, and dreamers of all kinds) to escape into something pretty special.  I know how important these donations are.  I've seen what the money does.  It gives a small stipend to the actors who contribute up to three months of their time.  It pays for the sets, the costumes, the publicity...

     And just think, if you click here and give even $10 before 6PM today (BECAUSE THAT'S WHEN THE WHOLE MATCHING FUNDS SHEBANG IS OVER) you can watch the heartfelt community show that is The Zilker Summer Musical and know that you were a big part of what was up there.  If you can afford to give a little bit of a dream to that kid sitting ten people over and creating a previously unthought of future, you really should.

For those out of town who want to know more about this theatrical event, go to the zilker website

Click here to give before the time runs out

 

Failure Face?

So...if all had gone perfectly according to plan I would have blogged about The Judy Garland Show, one episode per day, and nearly be finished, if not completely finished at this point.  So what happened?  Am I lazy?  Maybe.  Was it difficult?  Yes.  Did it turn something I enjoyed into a chore?  A touch.  Here's the truth.

1.  It was turning into a chore, and I was beginning to drive myself crazy.  I LOVE The Judy Garland Show, but truth be told, I love it in small doses.  One a week.  So, maybe that's something I can commit to.  Maybe this was all too much from the get-go.  I was no longer looking forward to the show, and having a "critical eye" on something, preparing to write about it, can take away a lot of the pure joy.  It's like you've got one eye on the fun, and another on the door.  Plus, with the watching, the research and the writing?  It consumed a lot of time in any already time restricted life.

2.  I think I was beginning to drive my roommate crazy.  We share a tv, and night after night I was watching the show, and we were going to our separate rooms doing our own thing.  Not that we don't do this often, we are individuals pursuing our own lives, and yet... I was beginning to feel like I was dominating the tv and I hated how much time we were spending in the same apartment, as if we were completely alone.  He's certainly got an appreciation for Judy, but he's not a fan by any means, and I didn't want to bombard him.

3.  I lost my readers.  A lot of them.  Not that this is a hugely trafficked blog, but I do enjoy getting read, and my readership was way down, and thus the motivation to write for an audience that possibly wasn't there?  Low. 

4.  It's been done.  Beautifully.  So many people have written about this show, and the fans seem to have dredged up every single detail amongst themselves at one point or another.  So, what's the urgency???  Is anyone clamoring?

So there you have it.  I am going on a hiatus for an indeterminate amount of time.  Not on the blog, but on The Judy Garland Show blogging.  It may come back, but I ain't making any promises.  Yes, I feel like a bit of a failure face, but I will pick up the little pieces and continue blogging.  I ain't finished, yet.  Nuff' said.

You Can't Eat Glamour For Breakfast

It's become cliché.  You're in your car listening to the radio or lounging around watching television and someone  who works in a job that just about anyone else would die to have is sitting in a cushiony chair by a conspiratorily nodding talk show host, or sitting in front of mike in a radio studio, and they say something to the effect of "believe me folks, this job that I have that seems so awesome?  It's not as glamorous as it looks". 

Why do they say this?  What's the point?  Is it to say, "I may look like I'm having a blast wearing beautiful clothes and getting my picture taken for a living, but my life it still really hard and I'm to be pitied"?  Because that's what anyone who says this sounds like.  A big fat cry baby.

And I know, their motives may be kind of sweet.  It may all be in the vein of "don't be jealous of me guys, life is hard for me, too" but honestly?  I don't want to hear it.  Really?  There are downsides to your job?  People judge you more harshly?  You don't eat?  You have to work out a lot?  That's the price of glamour.  And even if you don't feel it, can't appreciate it, doesn't mean it isn't there.  It's just not there for you.

Glamour, most of the time,  is not something seen from the inside out, but from the outside in.  That's the point of it.  Nothing is truly as glamorous as it appears.  If you look closely, almost everything has it's dark sides, it's "shadow side".  But truth be told, none of us consuming the glamour wants to look closely.  Somewhere deep down, we "know", we just don't want to know. 

Glamour is an aspirational concept  it's for those who don't get to dress up every day and go to movie premieres.  They look at those who do and think... "that could be me someday, if..."  We don't want to hear that it sucks to be you, because to a small or large degree we want to be you, and if your life really is no better than ours?  If we have to sit down take a look at our lives and start fixing it from the inside to be someone's idea of happy?  How daunting.

That points to another aspect of glamour.  Not only is it ethereal, and mostly for the benefit of others, it's also relative.  So while it may seem like I was tearing all those nameless movie stars and makeup artists and chefs new ones, I was really tearing all of us a new one.  Our life?  The ones we live?  To someone else, it's a pretty luxurious lifestyle.  And while I don't want to boil everything down to a facile "let's all just be happy for what we have" lesson, we've all seen these people, these "glamorous" people who should by all preconceived notions, be happy, and yet are not. 

It's easy to look at those who have more than us and say "you should enjoy your own glamour.  You should, for one moment allow yourself to be the kid who has been pressing his nose up to the glass and looking at the Christmas display, and let yourself into the shop."  If you think of it, we are all that person, that glamorous person.  In a way,  we are all the kid inside the toy shop or the movie star at the premiere.  We just have to decide if, when we play, we are going to play "full out"  and appreciate the glamour the glamour surrounding us and within in us.  It won't last, that's the nature of glamour.  But it can be enjoyed for what it is, some fleeting glimpse of fancy that makes us feel the specialness that's always there.

"Coming Soon"

While I used to look forward to birthdays for all the material bounty that would shower down on me and make me feel worthy (and I admit that a Wonder Woman flash drive can still bring me to the heights of giddiness) lately I've come to look forward to them for a different reason, namely, the change they inevitably bring. 

It could be that I'm getting older and nature is whispering ever more urgently into my ear that time is growing short and I'd better make days count, but each birthday these past few years has brought about a major life change.  It was right around my birthday that I decided to quit my job at Keller Williams, that I decided to move back home to Austin, Texas after six years in LA, that I let go of a friendship or two, decided to really grab onto a dream, like writing a performance piece...  Birthdays mean change.

I can never quite be certain what that change will be, but I can already feel the restlessness building.  I can hear the questions, the wondering.  Of course, like many people do when the questions start to pop up ("What the hell am I doing with my life?"  "Did I waste to much time pursuing an artistic career?"  "Should I get out of that halfway world that I seem to be living in and fall one way or the other?" "When am I going to feel settled?"  "Am I already 'settled' and I just haven't realized it?"  times seem uncertain) I've started praying again, looking for signs.  Good old God, the parachute we go back to when we need him.  I've always been great at beginnings.  Always been great at leaping into something and giving 100%, but staying the course?  This I have yet to master...

Regardless, and please forgive the cringe worthy analogy, change is a brewing, and when that lil' cup of Life Coffee is ready, I'll let you know what it tastes like.

TJGS Episode 13: With Special Guest Peggy Lee

While the thirteenth episode was pretty routine in some ways, there are a few things that set it apart. 

First, there is Jack Carter, who is essentially taking Jerry Van Dyke's place for this show and who somehow manages to make the slightly insulting banter with Judy work.  He just throws it out there, lobs it out and is able to make Judy look Judy completely normal while he comes off as some kind of schmoozy, boozy nut.  And yet, he's still charming in this old school comedian way that no one could carry off today.  I can't quite put my finger on it, and I'm not saying I love the material, but he makes it work better than anyone I've seen so far.  He also has a number in which he complains about the youth of America, and while the material is a bit stale, again, he is so comfortable and confident in his delivery, spitting out "babes" and "honeys" left and right.  How can I not hate him?  And yet, I don't.  Of course we have The Judy Garland dancers to spread the corn around in an already corny number.  Thank God for them. 

 

Jack and Judy also share a routine in which they play different musical comedy teams throughout history, finishing with a tribute to "Mr. Wonderful" in which Jack Carter had appeared with Sammy Davis Jr.  For my money they could have done away with the rest of the routine and focused on the last material, as the earlier parts seem a bit gimmicky and forced, even if Judy does do a wonderful Ethel Merman impersonation.

 

 

Peggy Lee is the Special Guest of the episode.  Beautiful, bountiful Peggy Lee.  She's so meaty and sensual, poured into her dress, all topped with hair like cotton candy, her voice so smoky and rich.  I just love her.  And yet... part of the magic of Judy is that you don't even realize how wonderful she is until you see other people attempt the same thing.  Peggy never quite seems comfortable with the camera, and is a bit of a deer in the headlights; a gorgeous, busty deer in the headlights.

 

 

The "Trunk" spot of the show is wonderful, as Judy sings two terrific numbers.  She starts with Irving Berlin's "How About You" and sounds lovely (even if she doesn't quite give herself over to the sorrowfulness of the song) and closes with "When Your Smiling" and the finish is stellar, with Judy selling it in typical fashion.

 



TJGS Episode 12: The One Where Judy Gets Touched...A Lot

By episode 12 the edict was out.  Judy was not to touch her guests.  People who saw her being so affectionate thought it made her look nervous and didn't like Judy kissing her female guests on the cheek in greeting.  Of course, this is ridiculous, and I for one never thought that the affection Judy displayed indicated that she was nervous, but that she was attempting to calm the nerves of others.  At any rate, Judy later commented how funny it was that on the episode where she worked so hard not to touch the guest stars, they were reaching out to touch her. 

Garland had gotten very close to Zina over the week's time and was thrilled to have Vic Damone as a guest star as she was a great admirer of his talent.  He would appear on the show twice more, and each time they would perform a wonderful medley of Broadway hits.  They started of with a medley from Porgy and Bess that is really pretty wonderful.  They look so comfortable and the notes!  The notes are so passionate and full and vibrant.

The highlight of the show, to my mind, was not actually filmed in the same week.  It was taped much earlier and inserted into this week.  It's the "Tea For Two" segment with George Jessel.  Jessel had been a gigantic name in show business back in the thirties, and Judy makes sure he has the chance to have all the focus again.  She's so obviously delighted to have him with her, so gracious to him.  And for his part, he's still very quick witted and funny.  He does most of the talking, which I frankly think is nice.  I know Judy's a great story teller, and yet, these segments could have done a lot more to highlight and lift up the guest star than they do.  This is the best "Tea" segment ever (just ignore Goerge's story of how he named Judy.  Yes, he gave her the last name Garland, but Judy had named herself).  And Judy sings an amazing snippet of "Bill" that I wish she'd sung as a complete number.  Still, tossed off like this makes it seem so natural and conversational.  It packed a lot of power.

 

 

This is definitely not a notable episode, but it is pleasant, and quite funny to hear Vic Damone sing "And oh the towering feeling!" as he stands high on fork lift, which is then lowered to the ground by a little blonde pigtailed girl.  Talk about literal... 

Second Looks

Tonight's the night I am watching and blogging about episode 12, in my usually brilliant fashion.  But I have to admit, I'm really saddened by the death of Zina Bethune and the tragic way her life ended.  Learning about it has made me want to dig deeper into who she was in her time here.  Is that weird?  Death does that sometimes, though.  It can endow someone with more "depth", more poetry than what we might have initially given them in our passing thoughts.  But once you know something like that, the thought of how their life ended sticks around, altering the way you think of them.  At least until we can see beyond it and focus on the truth of who they were as a person.  But unless you take those extra looks at a person's life it can be so easy to judge them by the way their life ended.

Is it fair?  Is it fair to judge the whole of a person's life by the way it ends?  Or should we judge it based on the highs it reaches, by the moments when it reached its potential and impacted lives through the understanding of and fulfillment of its life purpose.  I think that's the way it should be.  Because in so many ways, for so many people, the end is so random, just an odd act of God, or nature, or whatever you want to call it. 

Working with the elderly has also made me think and rethink the many ways life ends.  For example,  I met this wonderful little owl like woman who lived in a room, very comfortably at a pretty exclusive home for the elderly.  She spent a lot of her time tucked in a little lazy boy, watching televison, ocassionally getting out to play bingo... She had these two beautiful paintings on the wall of her room, one of herself from when she was a young woman in the fifties, and next to it a young man, presumably her husband.  And there was something so beautiful and poignant about the way they were cherished and still displayed with such pride.

Do we judge her life by its end?  This very peaceful slowing down, which is relatively solitary compared to much of her early days, cared for by people who begin as strangers, but grow to love and respect her, because of her dear personality and spark of life?  Well...why not?  It certainly doesn't tell the whole story, but a lovely soul like that, her life slowly winding down, but still affecting people in many small ways, it's pretty telling of the kind of life she lived up to that point.

And Zina?  She died protecting an injured creature, and you can't say that doesn't speak to something.  You can't say that doesn't tell you what a caring soul she was to stop and pay attention to a little wounded soul.  Look a little deeper and you discover that when she left acting she went back to her passion for ballet and up until the end of her life was teaching disabled children how to find joy in dancing. 

It's funny, because all you have to do, with anyone really, is stop and pay attention.  Look at them from a slightly different angle.  You don't even have to force it, make yourself find a new way of looking at them.  You really just have to be open to other possible explanations of that person and not "why they are the way they are" (that's so pious and patronizing) but who they are.  I guarantee that they are more than you have been allowing them to be.  And if you are open to it, life will present you with not just one, but a handful of ways to them in a new way.  You just have to be prepared to be wrong.