Elegy

UFO

Adopted November 3, 1994~Anchorage, AK
Died July 31, 2007~Ann Arbor, MI



"My heart has joined the Thousand
for my friend stopped running today"

Richard Adams Watership Down

Post Diagnosis Day Five

As you would expect the world has gotten much smaller since I found out. Except for a job interview which I was nowhere near the right frame of mind for, I've been sticking close to home. Lots of reading, watching TV, blogging about little things. Pallative care, which is of course as much for the nurse as the patient, is very wearying with its success measured in tiny pieces. She drank some water, ate some food. The worst times are when she walks around restlessly, very deliberately, like an overcompensating drunk. Every trip out of the house involves a nervewracking return-will she still be there? Will she be gone? Which should I hope for? It seems like one of those times in life where if you pay close attention you might learn something, probably about yourself. For example, I would have not thought myself capable of poking anything with a needle and administering fluids but 'there is no other choice' is a powerful motivator. Every responsible pet owner goes into it knowing there may come a day when you have to make that call. If it comes to that, I'm ready. It's the very least I can do.

As always in times of crisis I turn to poetry and music especially old favorites. Like this from Mary Oliver's "In Blackthorn Woods":

"Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

againest your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go."

Nerd Alert

I'm such a nerd.

I love, love to go to the library. My home branch where I go to write is brand new-full of blonde wood and those fancy yet simple lights that make every book look like one you want to read. But I actually prefer the downtown branch which is a little scruffier and way more diverse. There I like to make my rounds-seeing what books by my favorite authors are in, what the new releases are-before I go visit Porky.

Porky is the spiny porcupine fish that lives in the salt water tank in the children's services section. (Unfortunately there is no photo of the tank on the AADL website or else I would offer a link. I think he must be the happiest animal in all of Ann Arbor. He is certainly the friendliest fish I have ever met. No matter from what direction you approach the tank (it's shaped like an octagon) Porky will come swimming up to greet you. And, because he's wider than he is long, his swimming is more like underwater waddling. Though he's a fish and thus has no lips, I swear Porky smiles. And no matter how bad the day he so comical and winning you just can't help smiling back.

Lose the Dido Already

Last night I caught the preview of the new movie "Becoming Jane" for the first time. It was well done-lots of shots of Anne Hathaway's teeth, a funny cutting remark from Maggie Smith-but once again, like with the trailer for "Evening", the backing song was one by Dido. (This time it was "Don't Leave Home".)

What is going on here?

Do they think we won't know it's a chick flick without that audio clue? Do they think that a Dido song is the trigger that will magically open our purses and get us to the theater?

I got news for you Hollywood-you had me at Jane Austen with this one but you lose serious points by falling back on stereotypical lazy musical shorthand. Please, music-wise let's move on.

Read All About It

When I'm at work on a break I like to read magazines-I would estimate that I read around 30 a month. It's great for title awareness and can brighten up the most boring brown bag meal. When I'm reading a book I get very engrossed, easily losing track of time and can tend to get crabby when forced to put it aside when break is over. Magazines are easier to dip into-read the articles you are interested in and then call it good. (Also, if I'm staying in the building there will inevitably be a question or two as well-managers are never really on break if they're in the building.)

Besides the great Fitzgerald quote I cited in a previous post, this week I also read in Newsweek about an interesting survey conducted by a team from Johns Hopkins and Duke University. The survey took a novel approach to the whole stem cell research question by actually asking couples who were infertilty patients what they would like to see happen with their extra unused embryos. Out of 1000 couples surveyed, 60% said they would be willing to donate the embyros for research. Besides the legislative roadblock that is the federal ban on funding for reasearch that destroys embryos, the other major obstacle to stem cell research is lack of embryos. The surveyors point out that even if only half of the couples went through with the donation it could mean an additional 2000-3000 stem cell lines.

As someone with 2 diseases that reseachers believe might benefit, or even be cured, by stem cell therapies I am a keen supporter of as much research as possible and I applaud these folks for ignoring the inflamed rhetoric and actually getting to the heart of the matter by asking the involved parties. I sincerely hope the politicians, especially ones with presidential aspirations in their hearts, were reading Newsweek too.

Hoyden Seeks Date

So I ordered tickets for the fall Ryan Adams show and they arrived today. (The TOP SECRET password for the presale was R-O-S-E. Considering the rose is the band logo I'd say TicketMaster gets zero spy points for that. Homeland Security, if the password guy applies for a job with you-say no.) And only now has Joe said he's not so interested. He didn't say I'm on my own exactly, it was more like "well, if there was somebody you know who wanted to go I wouldn't mind giving up my ticket cause I don't feel the need to see him every time." Joe's attitude towards Ryan might be best described as sitting way back in his seat with his arms folded saying 'show me'. He does like "Heartbreaker" though I think the part he likes best is actually the spoken word bit at the beginning which, you know, doesn't ever get played at shows.

So, I am considering other options including loyal blog readers. But before you throw your hat in the ring please consider the following carefully. I am a music fan. If you aren't, we probably wouldn't be a good match. In fact, I probably wouldn't even like you very much.

A few more things:

-If you want to drink fine-but I'm not buying. I'll also have very little patience for frequent bathroom trips. I paid for 2 seats, your butt should be in one.

-I'm not there to chat. That happens before and after, usually with lots of gestures cause live music gets me all psyched. That doesn't mean there wouldn't be whispered comments but God help you if your cell phone goes off.

-You don't have to be a Ryan expert but you probably should like him. Maybe it's because my budget is modest but I'm always amazed and annoyed by people who go to concerts by people they don't even like.


So, if you are going to be in the Metro Detroit area on September 22 and wish to be considered, drop me a comment. Please also name your favorite Ryan record and briefly explain why (there are no wrong answers except "Demolition").

Viva la Cup-a-Cake!

My friend, Lisa, says that you can't use the phrase "Viva la ___" enough. She made a convincing arguement in her blog thetalkingtoaster.blogspot.com so I'm giving it a try myself.

First of all I have to say I am not a gadget girl. I like my tools, especially kitchen ones, to be versatile. Yeah, I have a zester, a turkey baster and a melon baller but other than that I'm into the multitasking tools. However my friend Marla sent me a Cup-a-cake as a belated birthday present and I must say I am absolutely captivated.

Check it out. www.cupacake.com

It's a clever little plastic cupcake holder that will keep your sweet treat neat. It even has a 3 inch clearance that can handle even the highest icing cap without losing a single sprinkle. I can't wait to go to the fancy cupcake bakery downtown to show them!

You Can Have the Whole Box

Today a man in Spongebob Squarepants scrubs told me my cat has cancer.

It was a very bad day.

The day was already haunted by a story told to me in the morning, a story so ghastly and gothic it smacks of urban legend except I know it was completely true. I was trying to get to the bottom of why someone in an e-mail chain wasn't joking and playing around with the rest of us and they told me they were having a bit of a day. They had found out, online, that a couple they had been working with on a project had died, had killed themselves. This person had just seen them a few weeks ago at a dinner-they had been dropped off at their hotel and walked off hand in hand like all was right with the world. The next day the woman committed suicide and then last week the man had walked into the water off Rockaway Beach and hadn't been seen since. Needless to say, I felt like a total asshole even though, short of being Nostradomus, there's no way I could have known.

Then during my lunchtime reading I found a quote from a letter written by F. Scott Fitzgerald to a friend (the woman's name escapes me now)* whose sons had died-"The golden bowl is cracked but at least in your case it was truly golden. Those boys will never leave you now" and I wished I had seen that before I had written my lame response to the story. It made me hope that maybe those poor people will never be apart now in, as John Hiatt sings, "a little joy/a little peace/ and a whole lot of light".

With that buildup, I headed to the vet. And sure enough after they fought her, yowling, to get x-rays and blood (her body is weak but her attitude strong) I stood there in the x-ray room looking at the ghost tumor riding her kidney with unchecked tears streaming down my face. It was one you didn't have to be a vet to read. The bloodwork, which should come back on Wednesday and will access kidney function, can only offer worse (pallative care) or worst (euthanasia) news. Kidney cancer in cats is almost never beaten and I wouldn't put her through that even if I had nothing but money. Adding to the misery is that Joe is gone to California this week so whatever has to be faced will be, for all intents and purposes, faced alone. And, in a classic example of adding insult to injury, I also have a catsitting job this week.

As I was leaving the vet, Tim, who works the front desk and is very kind in a born again way, told me that he always discusses his day with his girlfriend when he gets home and knew that night they would be talking about and praying for the loud cat with funny name. Then he offered me the Kleenex and said, "You can have the whole box."

Thanks, I'm probably going to need it.



*The woman was Sara Murphy who was the inspiration for the Divers from Tender is the Night. The quote is actually "The golden bowl is broken indeed but it was golden; nothing can ever take those boys from you now." Much more graceful than my remembering of it.

Surprises for the Other One

People still surprise me. Even after nearly 40 years and 16 years of retail experience I readily admit I have not seen everything. Perhaps it is naivete or maybe it is success with my goal of not becoming jaded. Though I am far short of my inspiration for this;Mary Oliver's line from "When Death Comes"

"When it's over, I want to say:all my life
I was a bride married to amazement."

several things this week have surprised.

First, there were, of course, the HP related. When you are talking the sheer numbers involved the potential for diaster is high-of course there's going to be some unhappy campers. This particular customer had reserved a book and was disgruntled when she came in to pick it up to see that we had many copies all at the same price as her reserved one. So she complained to me, the manager on duty. Aloud, I said all the right things but my internal dialogue was quite different. It went something like 'We have your book when we said we would at the advertised price-why exactly am I apologizing to you again?'

There was also the customer who complained about the restroom-she was using the ladies and noticed key spoilers from the book written on the bathroom wall. How exactly did that go down? Did they buy the book, take it home and read it then come back and write it? Or did they just make a beeline from the registers directly to the stall? Guess that frantic page turning and the smell of Sharpie should have tipped us off.

But my favorite surprise was in an e-mail. The male writer was describing a friend by saying 'woman love that guy' and expressing a wish to be him to see what it was like. It might read as sexist but I was taken aback. Of course I shouldn't have been-we're all complicated creatures with loads of quirks and our own insecurites but to read that, something I frequently wish (especially in situations like today where I overheard 2 regulars in conversation trying to distinguish me from my co-manager by saying "The pretty one?' "No, the other one") written by some else made the world feel smaller, in a good way. In a 'we're all more alike than different' way. And that is always a happy surprise.

Looks Like We Made It

It is accomplished!

2100ish books later the last Harry Potter book release is done. It's deflating but also a huge relief. Everything went well-people were excited and happy except one crabby woman which, given we had 1000+ people crammed into a 25,000 square foot store, is not at all a bad average. The district manager showed up at just the right moment, when we were looking our best, to tell us there was hardly a crowd at the competition. There was a moment when things were at their zenith when I thought, "I'm the ranking officer here, I'm in charge of all this" and I felt very small in my Hogwarts robes but then 14 things immediately popped up and took my attention elsewhere. (For any "Bull Durham" fans yes, that was the 'don't think Meat' moment.) The allocations were good-we have stacks and stacks still-so even the following days ( postanticipation is truly the worst part) were fine.

The only flaw was getting the short end of the schedule stick (I'm still 4 days away from a day off) which has severely cut into my reading time. I'm only on Chapter 4 and keep having to say "Don't tell me!" to all the other staff who are long finished and dying to talk about it. But that's okay too, it is the last one so it's good to make it last. I've been told some of the things I've been saying all along do come to pass which is cool even if I don't know what it means yet.

On to Chapter 5!

Random Thoughts

While Coloring My Hair Red to Play Ginny Weasley at the Harry Potter Ball Tonight


-If it's true that the NYT really did go into a store on Tuesday and buy a copy of Deathly Hallows then write and publish a review online (I haven't looked because I want to be surprised) I say shame on them. To ruin the last book in a series aimed at children (and children at heart like me) is really shabby especially for the 'newspaper of record'. I understand the whole scoop idea but really-to treat the thing that has probably done the most to grow future readers for them so poorly does not seem smart.

-Whatever the ending, can Rowling satisfy everyone? Can it be wrapped up that tightly? Seems pretty daunting to me.

-Things are far too serious to have any more Quidditch matches of course but I hope the skills learned there can be put to use in some way. As someone at my work wisely said it wouldn't be British boarding school without a sport everyone is mad for but we've spent a lot of time on it for it not to be used in the end (see Chekov, gun.)

-This is the third release at this particular store and I hope to see some familiar faces-the all girl Brighton Quidditch team who will likely have grown out of their original uniforms by now, the blind girl who charged up to the registration table declaring "Jim Dale (voice of the HP audio books) called me at home to tell me my book is here" and all the other folks whose reserves I have taken the past months. It will be crazy but fun in that 'togetherness of strangers' way. I can't wait!

(timer dings to check hair)

The Untold Joke

Like lots of other fans I have been scratching my head a bit over the announcement that Sebastian Faulks got the tap to write the new Bond book for next year's celebration of what would have been Ian Fleming's 100th birthday. Faulks can only be described as a literary writer and besides being a British man (one supposes 2 nonnegotiable, absolute requirements) would seem to be an unlikely choice. I really only like the Fleming Bond books and have pretty much ignored the rest (though like lots of other fans apparently I do vividly remember the uniboob Bond girl from one of the John Gardner Bond ones) so I'm not up in arms or anything. The Bond films are carrying the standard way more than any book at this point.

Supposably the new book, Devil May Care, features an older but "still sexually adventurous" Bond. So I've been saying, in person and in e-mail, 'great it's a Viagra Bond written by the Birdsong guy' with the idea that when the other person would pick up on the sex bit (and who wouldn't?) I could say 'you know what they say-the sun never sets on the British Empire.'

tee hee

But the thing is nobody picked up on the sex bit. So I've been waiting to say it and, of course, no joke is funnier than the untold one. So, here you go. Laugh away and marvel at my cleverness.

Hard Rain Indeed

Hard Rain Falling, by Don Carpenter, came highly recommended by someone whose record is sterling so far. It was also cited on The Rap Sheet in their anniversary celebration list of the crime/mystery/thriller books "most unjustly overlooked, criminally forgotten or underappreciated over the years". So, I found a used copy (if that's really what you call good condition Alibris, you are using the word in ways Webster never intended) and gave it a try. I mentioned the whopper case of readers whiplash it gave me in a previous entry but I never weighed in on what I thought of the book itself.

I liked it, if like is the right verb for something that turns your head so completely. Maybe it's just me but it wasn't really a crime novel, at least not in the traditional sense. Or maybe it's that it's not a crime novel in the modern sense. I don't know anything about Carpenter (no Wikipedia entry even) or what he hoped to accomplish with the book but with its up close and personal look at juvenile delinquincy and the protaganist's growing awareness of society's ills and his part in them it seems to me the author was hoping for a bigger statement than the thrills of a 'mere' crime novel. (Think more Crime and Punishment than cops and robbers.)

If that is the case the purpose certainly wasn't served by the cover-on my Fawcett edition the nude couple on the front seem to belong to another book entirely (I assume it's supposed to be sex but it actually looks more like Greco-Roman wrestling)-or the oh so macho blurbs. One on my edition says "Carpenter writes like a cement mixer at full throttle" and I know of another that speaks of his "jackhammer prose". Not being much into construction metaphors myself, I was shocked no one mentioned the obvious Theodore Dreiser influence. Now, Hard Rain Falling didn't make me wanna kill myself like Dreiser and it's true that no one (especially Fawcett in 1964) ever made a bestseller calling something "the new American Tragedy!" but it still seems like a big miss.

So if you're looking for a serious story, well told I would recommend Hard Rain Falling. If, however, you like your crime novels with patter and banter you should probably look elsewhere.

Would It Kill You to Watch "The Godfather" with me for the 37th Time?*

First, let me say I know one gets absolutely no cool points for expressing admiration for "The Godfather". Everybody likes it. Hell, you can't even work at ESPN if you can't quote it verbatim (judging by their magazine at least).

"Yeah Sam, it's great and "Citizen Kane" revolutionized filmmaking. Any other startlingly original opinions there Pauline Kael?"

Saying I have Brando as Vito as my wallpaper on the home computer gets you nowhere (the screensaver quote is from "Deadwood" by the way) but, after watching a chunk of "The Godfather Saga" (where I & II are edited together in strict chronological order) I must go on record as saying it's not as good. Yeah, there's some extra footage that's fun for the completist- like when Michael is vowing revenge after Appolonia is killed-but it doesn't make up for the damge done to II in this cut.

The reason some people, not me, but some people say that II is the rare case of a sequel being better than the original is due to the intercutting of time periods and story. The comparison of Michael's first years as don with Vito's first years in this country amplifies both stories. Cutting them in any other way robs the film of much of its power. That doesn't mean I won't watch it if it's on-nothing has higher repeatability than "The Godfather" except perhaps "Jaws", but for me it's just an interesting experiment with a masterwork.


*an old Dennis Miller line

Love and Amy Bloom

Amy Bloom stories are emotional blueprints. "See, this is how people are" she says and after we read her works and recognize their truth we say, "Yes, absolutely you're right." Not surprisingly, given her day job as a psychologist, her subject is most often the human heart. A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You, Love Invents Us, "Love is Not a Pie"-her titles say it all. But even though her favorite subject may be tender, there is a toughness to Bloom's writing. In fact, when I asked Joe why he loved Bloom he said, "cause she's a woman who writes like a man." He was trying to be funny but there's something to that. The writing is lovely, so lovely even a speed demon reader like me has to slow down, but it's also marbled with something darker-even cruel- which makes for arresting reading.

Bloom's new book, Away, which comes out this fall, is a bit of a departure for her in that it's historical but her fans will more than recognize her themes. Based on a true story of a woman who walked to Russia from the Yukon, Away is a woman's immigration story, yes, but also a completely unsentimental love story-foremost of a mother's love but also of the other wholly unexpected loves that surprise along the way.

"Everyone has two memories. The one you can tell and the one that is stuck to the underside of that, the dark, tarry smear of what happened."

I also have a sentimental attachment to Bloom because she reminds me of the happiest time in my life so far, when I first met (or more accurately remet) Joe. In addition to talking about Myla Goldberg's tights and the sex act in a certain Leonard Cohen poem (no one can say I don't know how to make a first impression) at that first meeting I also expressed my wish to move to Connecticut so that Amy Bloom could be my therapist. He later cited that in his journal as one of the things he liked about me. (He showed me, I didn't peek!) In the same entry he also said I was a home run, "which one can only indentify after a lifetime of watching balls thrown and bats swung." High praise that-is any wonder I love him so?

Look for Away this fall.

About Evening

I saw "Evening" yesterday. Despite the avalanche of bad reviews, I had to. It's based on a Susan Minot book and I am crazy for all things Minot. In case you didn't read The New York Times article on the Minots a while back, they are one of those crazy, talented families with lots of kids in various stages of success and estrangement. Susan and her sister, Eliza, are the writers and I am a great admirer of both. Susan's Monkeys is my favorite short story collection ever and after reading Eliza's The Tiny One I thought I had no need to write a book about my mother's death, I could simply point to that book if anyone were to ask about my experience.

So I had to go see "Evening" even though I had a bad feeling about the book's ability to translate to the screen. So much of the Minots' gift is the small gesture or turn of phrase that reveals a larger truth and that can be really hard to translate in a movie. Evening the book takes place almost entirely inside the mind of a dying woman as she looks back on a key weekend in her youth and that kind of thing, like someone's inner dialogue or a spiral into madness, is almost always better on the page.

The movie wasn't helped by Susan's co-writing the script and executive producing either-it's definately an example of things being better left in the hands of others. The script is underwritten to the extent that character development is left to a few brief details-Ann is a free thinker ahead of her time because she wears a boho shirt and shoes she bought in Greenwich Village (On her arrival she says "I'm not very Newport" but the next day is dressed more 'Newport' than the actual Rhode Islanders) . Unfortunately, you have to be a really good actor to bring such characters to life and Clare Danes isn't there, at least not yet (though she does have a very sweet singing voice). Vanessa Redgrave, as the dying Ann, comes off much better (despite the script's insistance on making her chase imaginary CGI insects) but it is Vanessa Redgrave after all. Meryl Streep and Glenn Close, who both can pretty much do no wrong at this point, are also good in brief roles. Streep and Redgrave's daughters are also in the movie and though they are fine, their obvious resemblance to their mothers was more distracting than good casting for me. I kept examining their faces for how they were different from their moms. I also kind of feel sorry for Mamie Gummer-not only does she have an awful vintage sounding name (it's very dead president's wife) but being the actress daughter of Meryl Streep must make for a damn lot of baggage.

As for the men, the part of Harris is so slight it's hard to see his appeal for everyone (he's a doctor! he works with the poor!) and the part of lovelorn sexually ambigious Buddy really cries out for Montgomery Clift who is, unfortunately, long dead.

The other thing that really bugged me about "Evening" was the trailer. The one inargueable thing the film has going for it is it's beautiful cinematography and if you can't showcase that and get the long lost love bit part across in 90 seconds without resorting to playing Dido's "White Flag" over it you need to go back to film school. Lazy, lazy, lazy.

So I saw "Evening" because I had to. If you don't feel you have to, I'd recommend you don't.

Adventures in Dogsitting

We have an extra dog for a week-Penny has come to stay while her family goes to the beach. She had an anxious moment or two last night-Joe mocked my interpretation of her middle of the night begging for attention but I really do think it was her "I'm on this sleepover and it was fun for awhile but now I want to go home right now" moment. There was so much hubbub at his house when he was young it was probably a treat for him to get away but I clearly remember several sleepovers that I was excited for until I got there and well into it then I wanted nothing more han to go home. Things at other people's houses were so strange. They ate weird things and had odd habits they all took for granted. But dads were the strangest. I lived with my mom during most of what could be considered 'the sleepover years' and dads, well, they were a bit of a mystery to me.

So I soothed Penny as best I could, got her doll for her (she is a girl) and assured her we would have fun and then she could go back to the best place of all-home.

Queenpin

I read the latest Megan Abbott, Queenpin, over the 4th which is appropriate, since it is sure to be described, like it's author, as a firecracker. This one continues in the old school California noir tradition she staked out in her first two books, Die a Little and The Song is You. Expanded from a short story she wrote for the anthology, Damn Near Dead, Queenpin is short paperback, nearly a novella. (Curiously it's a QP original, I would have thought a direct to mass market for summer would have been ideal even if you'd have less of Richie Fahey's classic cover art.) It's a fast funny read with lurid Mob detail and crackling dialogue.

(The dialogue is so good I was wandering around the deserted apartment complex yesterday reading it aloud. I don't think there are plans for an audio book, and after I hearing her read in person I know Megan could more than take care of that her own self but I would totally throw my hat into that ring. I'm not in any union so could work off the books and I talk really fast which would totally work for the material. I'm just saying.)

Though it's 'woman in charge' twist is original, lining up her three books in a row it's an awfully narrow niche. Yeah, she can be the female James Ellroy noir girl like nobody's business but I hope for something more in her next outing. She got the skills to bring to something bigger.

This Blog is Rated

Mingle² - Online Dating

I read on one of my favorite blogs, The Rap Sheet,therapsheet.blogspot.com that you can submit your blog to mingle2.com/blog-rating and they will give it an official rating so I gave it a try and was dismayed to receive a G.

A G???

I didn't expect NC-17 or anything but G is just so...perky. And wholesome. How much of a loudmouth girl can I be if my blog is rated G?

The cut and pasting wasn't working so well then so I redid it tonight and was relieved to receive, thanks to a choice "Deadwood" quote, a new rating which I am much happier with. Please plan the childrens' reading accordingly.