PAULA WHYMAN

  curiouswriter

­

­I received an email from Staples yesterday, reassuring me, in the wake of the announcement that Office Depot is going out of business, that their store will always be there to fulfill my office supply needs.­

I don't know about you, but I'm sleeping better at night knowing that Staples has my back.  And my binder clips.­­

­

 

Meanwhile, here at Curiouswriter HQ, we are experiencing some changes.  Not THOSE changes.  Not yet, for crying out loud.  I'm talking website changes.  Sometime in the next week, my site will perform the dazzling feat of backwards migration, returning to its original, yet new and improved software platform (I'm told). 

 

If you who were around for the first migration, you will know that the very idea of this makes me crazy because it will probably require many hours of website revision and a lot of time spent learning how stuff works.  However, when it's done, the hope is that the "new" site will contain a fabulous array of amazing new features, and it will be less buggy (eg, check out the spacing on this post, sheesh).

 

So, please watch for something new to appear in this space.  The migration is being managed by hand, meaning each file is being transferred manually, so there may be some discrepancies that pop up, and we'll do our best to fix those as they occur (hey, who put that mustache on my photo??).

 

But I want to reassure you that we at Curiouswriter will always be here for you.

 

And, like always, shipping is absolutely free.

­

To the U. San Diego students who are hitting my website looking for essays about Nadine Gordimer's transcendent novel, None to Accompany Me: 

Read the book!  You won't regret it.  And then I won't have to tell your teacher.

 

Oops, I just did.  ;-)

Writing took a back seat to other creative outlets last week as Curiouswriter did holiday preparations, featuring the dreaded pie crust production which, this year became the Pie Crust Debacle.  Okay, maybe it wasn't as bad as all that, but I've been making the pie crust for a few years now, and it's just one of those things that niggles me. 

 

Last year was the best ever, as I followed the strict instructions in the King Arthur Baker's Companion for making a medium-flake crust.  Flakiness being a specialty of mine, and medium-flake being quite enough flakiness for anyone, especially someone like me who is not making a tarte tatin anytime soon.  For the uninitiated, the King Arthur method involves not a sword in a stone or a lady of the lake, blah blah, but a step in which one chops up the cold shortening into little pebble-sized bits and flicks them--or in my case, flings them--into the flour/salt mixture.  After that, you toss it gently with a fork, add water, chill, and presto a tender, easily rolled out crust, suitable for any fruit or custard pie. 

Or, in my case, a tough, stiff dough suitable for a game of Ultimate Frisbee.

Maybe it was the shortening flinging where I came up short this year.  I used trans-fat free organic shortening, and in spite of chilling, the stuff was softening too quickly and sticking to the knife when I tried to flick it into the bowl, so I tried flicking it off of the knife blade with my fingers, but it stuck to my fingers, so I scraped it off of my fingers with the knife and flicked again, became increasingly frustrated, and ended by plunging my hands into the flour a la Lucille Ball and "blending the shortening gently" into the dry ingredients, much like a child making a pie out of wet sand.

I'm not sure why this didn't work??

In all honesty, I blame Whole Foods.  Why not?  They are to blame for a lot of things, primarily the disappearance of organic produce from what was once an organic grocery, to be replaced by expensive items in jars that we buy because they sound cool, use once, and shove to the back of the refrigerator, but can never throw away because we paid $6.49. 

But about the crust. I blame Whole Foods because both bags of pastry flour I purchased said "wheat flour," and when I opened them, they proved to be "whole wheat" flour.  The beige kind.  This is not okay for pie crust, unless you do what I ended up doing.  With the single crust I was able to rescue and roll out, cracked at the edges, and wrestle into a pan, I made quiche:

Not bad, eh?

As a result, I was able to verify that, indeed, whole wheat flour results in a crust that tastes like (yup) whole wheat.  Fine for quiche; not fine for pumpkin pie.

After my shortening flinging disaster, and with the understanding that the pie crust was not the only food I needed to prepare for Thanksgiving, I decided that this time I was not going to give it another chance.  Yes, I caved and bought ready-made pie crust.  Vegan.  Frozen.  Whole Foods.

However, I was not okay with using the little aluminum pan.  No, in addition to the pumpkin, I was making a two-crust apple pie laced with Beijing Five-Spice Powder, and that pie was going in my pan, which is larger and has handles.  So, I had to transfer the frozen crust into my pan.  And of course, it was too small...  So, I brought it to room temp, rolled it out, and made it fit, no problem.  Then, I combined a second and third crust to make the top, rolled that out, and here's the result.  A store-bought pie crust that looks homemade:

The mustache is a W for Whyman.  The kids liked that.  Everyone thought the crusts were homemade, but I told the truth.  Yeah, I did.  And I figured, why bother with all this shortening flinging nonsense if I can buy a perfectly good crust in five minutes.  Except, personally, I didn't love the crust.  Whatever.

So if I use this experience as a metaphor for the creative process, I could, say, compare my experience with the recalcitrant shortening to the times when you're just not finding the right words, when the image you can see in your head just isn't making it onto the paper.  You try different approaches, and sometimes none of them work, and you end up with something less than what you aimed for.  So you give up for a while, or maybe you try someone else's recipe, you borrow a framework or a structure, but find that it isn't right for you, either. 

It sure is easier to read someone else's book than to write one yourself.  But, in the end, it's your creation.  Stick your hands right in there if you have to.  It's a messy process.

Oh, and speaking of hands...  Here's a shot of my favorite hostess gift.  Thank you, Cousin Alex!  (Yes, it's hand soap.)

Are you as disappointed as I have been by the absence of Fungus 53 on XM Radio?  Do you miss Flogging Molly, Pennywise, and Social Distortion?  Now there's a petition to sign, as well as a Facebook page for you! (I couldn't link to the FB page, but you can find it by searching, if you're on there.)

And while we're at it, what's with the new station names?  I liked Lucy, Fred, and Ethel.  And changing the Boneyard to Hair Nation?  Ugh.

One bright spot in this mess is the all-Led Zeppelin feature going on right now at XM-39.   Definitely prefer this to the AC/DC fest that's (still!) booking 53.

I want to give a shout out to a new site started by a group of authors primarily of science fiction/fantasy.  It's a co-op, where writers post their work, some offered free and some for sale.  Ursula K. LeGuin is a founding member.  Thank you to author/member Nancy Jane Moore for alerting me. 

Check it out:

Book View Cafe

I've been floating a theory that one reason Barack ­Obama could be elected
president while Jesse Jackson could not is that Obama was not part of
the Civil Rights movement, the movement that clearly helped make these
historic events possible.  Obama has emerged, post-Civil Rights, the way having been cleared for him by a previous generation, much like the Israelites were said to be forced to wander in the desert for 40 years, waiting for enslaved generations to die off and make way for a
generation that knew only freedom.  Believe me, I understand that
freedom is relative and not absolute; however I think the metaphor can
be applied.

 

The same metaphor works in the case of Hillary Clinton and, IMHO, ­explains why she could not be elected president (of course it's not the only reason, but to me, it's a bigger reason than personality and the other issues people had with her).  Hillary Clinton is part of the generation that is still wandering in the desert.  The first female U.S. president will come from the subsequent generation that emerges, free of the baggage of both doubt and entitlement.

 

There, I said it.

It has come to my attention that Tony Orlando has a huge fan base in France.  It's looking like he could even be the next Jerry Lewis.  I'm wondering if he's aware. 

Tony? 

Do you feel the love? 

Sentez-vous l'amour?

I feel like I should preface this by saying that I think guns are bad.  I think war is bad.  I think fighting is bad, especially when it's over the number of rubber bands in one's possession (see earlier post on this topic in honor of Mother's Day).  Like my parents before me, I will not give my children toy guns to play with. 

 

Full disclosure, however:  The one who went as a cowboy this Halloween had two toy pistols in his possession for a single night, which only served to prove the point, since they were immediately turned on his brother, who in turn wielded his ninja sword, and the rest is history, as are the toy weapons. And, shocking disclosure--My parents, who would never in a million years give me a cap gun or a GI Joe when I was a kid, gave my children toy soldiers.  Huh??  Luckily, the soldiers aren't so attached to their roles; they make good farmers, too.

 

Children don't need toy guns.  All parents know this to be true.  Children make guns from whatever is handy:  Legos, play-doh, fingers, blocks, tree branches, breadsticks, baby carrots, and don't forget rubber bands (see earlier post).  To me, this is still preferable to an actual toy weapon. 

 

So, if we're talking nature vs. nurture, here's the point:  Nature wins.

 

One of my kids has a video game called Civilization.  It's like SimCity, for those who know that one, but you create historical worlds that coexist with other historical worlds.  You establish trade routes.  You practice diplomacy.  Here's what my son had to say about it: 

 

"Everyone wanted to do diplomacy, so I did diplomacy with lots of leaders, the Incas, Napolean, the Egyptians, and then it got boring.  So when Catherine the Great contacted me and told me she liked my country, I told her I thought her head would look good on the end of a pole, and I went to war with her."

 

Now I understand.  Don't you?

 

Would you believe it if I said my son is a peaceful and thoughtful child, and that he wrote an anti-war speech for school that had other parents suggesting a future  diplomatic career?  In other words, he knows the game is just a game, and it's a safe, acceptable place to be aggressive.

 

As one who regularly doodled smoking revolvers on the outside of my notebook in junior high school, and still grew up to be an adamant supporter of anti-gun legislation, I am not surprised.  I was, however, when I learned that the following is not permissible artwork at school:  Any sort of weapon, battle scenes with soldiers, explosions, etc.  I learned this when one of my kids drew a picture of a firing weapon to demonstrate his understanding of a particular topic on a school paper.  It could, I was told, be taken the wrong way.  Hmm, because ballistics is not useful in the understanding of physics?  Or because we are going to have a knee-jerk reaction to a common childhood obsession that is after all only a reflection of common adult obsessions? 

 

Now, I realize that school has to cover all the bases, and they have a hard job.  I don't envy them this.  I'm sure that there are situations where concern is warranted.  But, please!  Drawing pictures of weapons and battles of various kinds seems like fairly standard operating procedure for kids, particularly for little boys. 

 

What I find more disturbing is the potential attempt to eliminate aggression from art by making it somehow subversive, or even shameful.  Well, hmm, can you see where that might backfire?  It's not only impossible, it's undesirable to eliminate art as a safe outlet for aggression even, yes, even in school.  A drawing is one of the few acceptable places for a smoking gun, as far as I'm concerned. 

Because if we really want to reduce violence in our society, the way to do that is (apparently) to make little boys feel bad about it.  If you can't suppress your imaginary aggression, if you must let it out where it will appear on paper, shame on you. 

Now, we are to control our imaginations, is that it?

It's a brave new world.

And now is when I get sappy, a condition I previously exhibited only during dog food commercials.  

I'm grateful today to be able to tell my kids that sometimes democracy actually works.

I'm grateful to be around to participate in this historic moment and, I hope, the ones to follow.

I'm grateful that I don't have to move to Canada.  (No joke, I would've considered it.  I hear you can see Alaska from there.)

I found myself (uncharacteristically) sobbing along with Jesse and Oprah during Obama's acceptance speech, and not just the part where he said he was getting his kids a puppy, although that did put me over the edge.  In part, it was out of relief that this long, dark period may finally be coming to a close.

And now, because you know that sappy behavior just isn't sustainable coming from me...

On my morning jog today, I took great satisfaction in pointing and shouting a loud Nelson-the-bully "Ha-ha" to every house on my route with a McCain/Palin yard sign.  (That is a Simpsons reference, for the pop culturally deprived, btw.)  Especially the big house on the corner where they had the audacity to begin posting signs about six months ago.  I passed that house twice.  

Because, what is more American than gloating? 

 

In case it was humanly possible for anyone to forget...

But only if you're voting for the right team, otherwise please stay home. 

This has been a public service announcement.

By the way, I'm surprised to note that I was given no printed receipt to show that I voted or to verify that my vote was recorded properly.  It's all a bit more mysterious than it should be.  Democracy at work?  We'll see.

Uncle.

Okay, I said it.  On the best day, I can listen to four songs by AC/DC, the four good songs.  But somehow XM has managed a month (or more? it seems like more...) of 24/7 AC/DC on channel 53.  I get it, there's a new album.  Now please bring back Fungus 53.  I miss Pennywise.

 

According to sources, XM/Sirius is playing AC/DC until January, and axing Fungus completely. This is just the kind of nonsense I predicted in my earlier post on this merger.

 

So, hey--My subscription is up for renewal in January--Anyone listening?  Please don't make me shout.

So are more people interested in Tony Orlando or Brad Pitt?  The answer would seem obvious, but it's a theory worth testing.  If you peek at artsyfartsytim.blogspot.com, you'll see we have some crucial scientific research going on.  Why does Tony Orlando get so many hits?  (But, note to A.F. Tim, I don't think the prisoners are the ones there with the internet access??)  Will Brad Pitt (pictured here in Thelma and Louise) inspire the same interest?  Why does Brad keep bleaching his hair?  (He's going, Gee, is it that obvious?  Yes, Brad, it is.)  

Stay tuned.  And, Brad?  Call your agent.  Something about growing a mustache...

I was in the CVS today in a town I will not name.  I needed, among other items, a flashlight.  After searching up and down the aisles (there were about 20 aisles), I asked where to find a flashlight. 

"We don't have those right now.  That's a seasonal item," I was told. 

So, darkness is seasonal?  I'm going outside right now to look for the aurora borealis...

In this very same store, however, there is a large selection of Chia Pets.  What a relief!  My emergency Chia Pet needs can now be fulfilled.

I know I'm not supposed to be joking about this, but what should I do, cry? 

So, I went into the bank today to get some money, and they still had some there, much to my surprise.  Given what I've been hearing in the news, I expected all the teller windows to be shut, and "Come back later" scrawled with a Sharpie on the outside.  The bank manager asked if he could help me (usually, in the bank, they ignore me--maybe I looked dangerously deranged?).  So I told him I wanted to make a withdrawal and transfer some funds to the Mattress Account.  His smile frozen in place, he said, amiably, "We try not to make jokes like that here..."  

Why did he think I was joking? 

Maybe it would help if they still gave out toasters.  I'd like a 6-slice, please.

I'm reading from my story, "Minor Offenses," this Sunday, October 12, 2pm, at the Writer's Center:

Delmarva Review Reading 

The Writer's Center, Walsh St., Bethesda, MD

(generous public parking--FREE--across the street)

I'll be reading along with Barbara Esstman, Sean Enright, and Martin Galvin, in honor of the first issue of the Delmarva Review.

Since I'm at least as qualified to be VP as Sarah Palin, I think I'm qualified enough to offer my take on the first presidential debate. (Note that NBC didn't invite Ms. Palin to comment following the broadcast---They asked Biden...and Rudy Giuliani.  Do you think she didn't have anything to add?  Maybe she told them what she told Katie Couric -- she'd have to get back to them later on that...)

 

So, IMHO, if you went into last night's debate already favoring one candidate over the other, I doubt the debate changed your mind. 

On the other hand, for those who are still undecided--

WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU???

 

I'll be quiet now.

My essay, Angst Lurks Behind the Lawn Mower (Three Books about Desperate Suburban Men) will
be broadcast this evening on All Things Considered! 

If you miss it, you can hear the podcast on their website, and read the text, beginning after 7pm EST.  Read it here.

When I was in NY this weekend, I saw Eliot Spitzer, near Central Park, in the East 60s.  He was driving a minivan.  So now we know the real punishment for his transgressions:  His wife is making him drive the carpools.

See my guest blog on Leslie Pietrzyk's Work-in-Progress site today.

It's a parody in response to those books about writing that are written by famous, successful people, which are often of little use to most of the rest of us... 

XM Channel 53 is running all AC/DC, all the time.  I think it goes through at least the end of the month (who knew there WAS this much AC/DC??), and it will include their new album, Black Ice.

And, with Channel 51 still running Metallica 24/7, that's like, whoa.  A lot.  Of.  Loud. Unavoidably Redundant, but also Pretty Good Head-Banging Tunage. Er.  Music.

See, you can count on me to bring you news of the more important cultural events.

The financial companies are desperately seeking buyers, and the rates are cheap, cheap, cheap--shares of Lehman only $3.65!  Seriously, that's less than a video rental at Blockbuster.  As a taxpayer, I will soon own part of mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac.  If I'm propping up these failing banks anyway, why not just buy one for myself?  I'm waiting for the prices to drop a little more, and meanwhile I'm in the planning stages of an acquisition, working through the most important details.  Like, what should I call my new bank?   What kinds of dubious investments should my bank make?  How many stock options should I give myself?  What if I have to fire myself?  What's my severance package going to look like?  So many decisions.

Anyway, if you'd like my new bank to consider financing your start-up, give me a holler!  But, please, no home mortgages...

Now, if I could just get this money out of my mattress...but wait, it seems my mattress has filed for a federal bailout.

Heard these three songs last night on my way home from Back-to-School Night:

 Andy Kim - Rock Me, Gently

Social Distortion - Ring of Fire

Green Day - Hitchin' a Ride

Why they are great: 

Andy Kim because I'm seriously enjoying the 1970s music resurgence, and it's why I watch the extremely bad show Swingtown, even though my husband teases me about it.  Okay for that, and the clothes.  And the wallpaper.  The dialogue is hilarious.  Oh but maybe it's not supposed to be. 

Social Distortion does a good cover of Ring of Fire, which I hardly need to say is a terrific song.  I'm trying to recall if I've ever heard a bad cover of it (karaoke does not count). 

Green Day needs no explanation. 

Am I the only mom with the loud music going?  Does everyone else listen to Enya?

Seriously, one day we were driving and my son said, Mom, I think people can hear the music outside of our car. 

I said, oh, is that bad? 

(Am I the Embarassing Mom?  I guess it's inevitable.)

Dear Public School Administrators:

Thank you for your letters, forms, and surveys.  I'm so glad you have decided to become a Green School.  As luck would have it, I have decided to become a Green Parent.  So please recycle the information I gave you last year regarding Emergency Contact Information, How My Child Learns, and PTA Committee Volunteer Sign-Up.  None of that information has changed since school let out, three months ago.  Just doing my part to conserve energy.

Best regards,

Curiouswriter

(who was hospitalized on being found suffocating under blizzard of paper) 

 

He has a Mad Men DVD on his campaign airplane!

Word is he hasn't watched it yet.  I guess he's been busy... 

In the Tetons, the danger of being charged by a bison is real (though mainly if you act like a Homer, as one of my kids would say, and treat wild animals like domestic cattle). 

So is the danger of encountering  moose antler art:

Also, to that Wildlife Expeditions van that nearly ran us and the bison off the road in order to get to the next photo op, we have your license plate number.

Mick Jagger is now about the same age as my parents.  Why do I find this so disturbing? 

Anyway, um, happy birthday.

It's official, XM and Sirius are going to merge.  As an XM listener and fan of stations from 40-53 and (okay, okay) channels 7 and 8, I worry that some of the more obscure playlists will be jettisoned in favor of the most popular formats.  Where else can I hear both Government Issue AND Looking Glass?? 

On the other hand, there are a few bands that are seriously (Siriusly? uuugggh) overplayed on XM, and I wouldn't mind a little more variety.  Like, say, 90% of the time I turn to channel 49, I hear Bryan Adams.  I never liked Bryan Adams even when I was supposed to, so, please.  Please.

I wouldn't mind a little more Bon Jovi.  Just a little.  Too much can be, y'know, too much.

And, on channel 53, I want more irony-filled covers, because they're fun, like the hardcore version of Seasons in the Sun (I'm sorry I don't remember who it was...). 

And Stop STOP playing Master and Servant on channel 44.  I like Depeche Mode, but it has to be the right moment, and it has to be Enjoy the Silence.  Or Personal Jesus. 

And, how about more Pennywise on channel 54 and less Death Cab for Cutie?  Market-watchers say that in a down stock market situation, hard rock does better.  There are actual statistics that show this.  And statistics don't lie as long as they're saying what I want to hear.  So, uh, let's not forget that.

It shouldn't even be necessary to point out that Queen did a lot of other songs besides Killer Queen (even though that's a killer song) and (spare me) Another One Bites the Dust.  And I never ever want to hear We Will Rock You, ever again.  Only once did I hear Fat-Bottomed Girls on XM.  Only once!  And what about Bicycle?

Clearly this merger raises a number of issues, but I hope it will be an opportunity to address the gaps in the current programming.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to have more to say on this (like, I can't believe I didn't mention David Soul-- You know, Don't give up on us, baby, it's only one black eye...)

 

So, I'll call this Part 1. 

And, for the record, forget Saturday Night; the best Bay City Rollers song is I Only Wanna Be With You.

Check out the new Jib-Jab video.

Maybe I just need to laugh, what with the price of gas, etc., but McCain's gland and Obama on a unicorn are spit-your-coffee funny.

 

So, let me get this straight.

--Oil has hit another all-time high at $147 per barrel. 

--Iran has nuclear missiles pointing at everyone.

--Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac stocks are down 40%.

--Oh, and Starbucks is closing 600 outlets... 

 

And, when I was running an errand this morning, I saw people waiting in a line that stretched around the block.  The last time I saw a line like this it was for Stones tickets (yeah, when people used to wait in line for concert tickets, remember?). 

 

Was this the line for laid-off baristas?  Not unless the laid-off baristas were all waiting to buy a new iphone 3G for $200.

 

Now, just to make sure I'm on track, here is the thought process:  I can barely afford the gas to get to the store, but dang-it, I'm getting that new iphone!  Because I really NEED a new phone!  Um, okay, because I really NEED those new Google apps!  Um, okay, because...I...just...want one.

 

Nothing says "America" quite like our capacity for denial.

My novel is set in 1980 right around the 4th of July, and in the story, some pretty major events take place at the big neighborhood barbecue.  I was thinking about this, and also thinking about how little has changed in the way I spend the 4th of July now compared with the way I spent it growing up.  With the exception of the years when we used to go see the Beach Boys on the Mall (very little of which I actually remember), what we do now to mark the day is pretty much the same.  Except for the macaroni salad.  It's now PASTA salad tossed with balsamic and olive oil (hold the mayo, please!).  And quite possibly, there won't be any Jell-O.  But Jell-O is a variable I'm not willing to predict; it shows up when you least expect it.  There will be cupcakes, both homemade and store-bought, mini and full-size.  My son will want one of each, and I will say "pick one."  Later, my husband and I will learn that we both said "pick one," and our son got away with it.

Unlike the cookout in my book, I'm assuming that no one will be telling bad Richard Pryor jokes while lighting the grill.  And, probably, no one will quote Emerson.  Or get stoned.  Or have sex behind the pool pump room.  Yes, this does all happen in my book.  It did not happen to me.  I want to make that clear, in case any former (or current) neighbors are reading this.

We have a parade on our street.  All the kids ride bikes or scooters, and it's kind of cool to see who got their training wheels off each year.  One mom takes charge and gets everyone to stand still for photos (she always succeeds--I think I need her to take our holiday shots this year), and someone has a boombox that plays corny patriotic music.  Then we eat a lot and swim, and the kids shoot each other with high-powered water guns while all of us liberal parents look on in horror.

So, on Friday, I'll be wearing my 32-year-old American Bicentennial hat, which I pull out just for the occasion, and eating my once-a-year burger (I don't know exactly why, it just turns out that way, but that's a topic for another day).  There's probably more to complain about regarding the State of the Union these days then there was when I was a kid (at least it seems that way), but for one afternoon, in keeping with the tradition, we'll only complain about property taxes.

Whatever your annual tradition is, or even if you don't have one, I hope you do something fun.  And remember, if it contains mayonnaise, don't let it sit out too long.

Shakespearean insults

 

Dear Sen. Obama,

I really admire you.  I've had high hopes, along with all the other Dems starving for an inspiring, ELECTABLE leader, ever since that famous convention speech.  So, pardon me while I express my deep disappointment in your response to the SCOTUS ruling on the DC gun law. 

What were you thinking??

Not even a few months ago, you were all oh yeah, it's a good law, blah blah.  And now, in the name of political expediency, the law was "overreaching."  I'm sure it's not necessary to say here that just because SCOTUS says so doesn't mean we all have to agree.  We all get why this happened--  It's a conservative court. 

I thought you were someone who'd stand up.  I thought you'd express sincere disappointment.  But, no, you're just like the rest when it comes down to it, bowing to expediency, letting the political wind carry you like a leaf.  This should not be surprising; it's exactly what we expect from politicians, but you've based your campaign on your willingness to be different from the rest, to take an independent stand, and that is one thing we valued about you. 

Instead, you're all ready to stand up for whatever's easy, apparently.  Great. That's just what we look for in a leader. 

See if you can learn from this.  Next time, keep the flip-flops on your feet.

I'll be watching.

Sincerely,

Curiouswriter 

Four women writers went to the movies last night and saw Sex and the City.  (What, you think we only go to readings?) 

In the scene where Carrie sits down at the computer and stares at the screen where she has typed 

Love.

and she pauses and then adds an ellipsis:

Love...

pauses again, then backspaces out the ellipsis:

Love.

Why were we the only ones who laughed...?

The movie was somewhat disappointing, I'd say.  Although there were flashes of comic brilliance, at times it felt like a Brady Bunch reunion flick.  Why were the women always so insanely happy and "surprised" to see each other?  Why was Carrie's hair always pulled back from her forehead like that?  And why did so many of Samantha's outfits look like they came from the Dress Barn?

Besides the naked neighbor, the one who had the most on-screen sex was Samantha's annoying dog.  What was that about?

Beforehand, most of us decided we liked Miranda the best.  This could be a good name for a band:  The Three Mirandas. 

Stay tuned.

What happened to the Good Humor man?  I don't mean, why is he sometimes a woman; what I mean is, what happened to the Good and especially the Humor?  Saturday at the pool, the ice cream truck came. (In fact, it came every hour, until I wanted to throttle someone with the nearest SpongeBobsicle.  Mark my words:  There will be an ice cream truck-rage incident if this continues.) 

No doubt driving one of these trucks is a thankless job (a job I'm sure I wanted when I was seven, because I thought one of the benefits was unlimited access), although the kids are always happy and remember...when prodded...to say thank you.  The parents of the youngest kids wait in line with the hangdog expression that says it's too dang hot to have the argument, again, and when will they start carrying beer on that truck, anyway?  The parents of the older kids hand out soggy bills and run the other way. 

So on Saturday, the woman behind the wheel reminded me of the witch from the Hansel and Gretel story AFTER she reveals her true colors and threatens to bake the kids in the oven.  Has this always been the case, and I just didn't notice when I was a kid?  Did the music warning of the truck's imminent arrival always sound disturbingly off-key, like the music they play in horror flicks over scenes with children in them, to let you know that SOMETHING IS TERRIBLY WRONG? 

Wasn't the truck clean and tidy in the olden days?  When the door slid open, you'd move as close as possible to feel the frosty air that was inside.

I mean, the last thing you want when you're handed your Nutty Buddy is a tight shot of the female purveyor's thick sweaty armpit hair.  And this is not armpit hair that is making a political or life style statement. 

Trust me.

On Writer's Almanac this morning, Garrison Keillor quoted Thomas Mann:

"A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it
is for other people."

 

What went wrong?

 

In pursuit of the creative spark, some of you clean, some of you organize, and some, ahem, plagiarize.  But one artist confided that when he wants to look at the world through a new lens, he changes his shoes...to the wrong feet.

 

Jim Johnston of Mexico City wrote:

"In my studio I wear those hideous (but comfortable) rubber shoes with
holes in them, known as 'Crocs'.  When I'm stuck for creative direction
I take them off, switch feet and walk around a bit, then sit back down
to write.  The slight, rubbery discomfort usually gives me enough of a
jolt to help out."

Congratulations, Jim!

I hope the brand new beginner's guide to bread baking that I'm sending you, along with a bonus dough-scraper, will provide new inspiration.  I highly recommend wearing the shoes on the proper feet during kneading, however.  I'd rather not be held responsible for any Croc-related mishaps... 

 

(By the way, check out Jim's great blog on Mexico City here.)

 

I was thinking about what Jim said, and I realized that when I need to shake things up, I don't change my shoes, but I do change where I write.  After writing the first draft of my novel in the not-so-quiet room of the public library, I worked on revisions while I was away at a residency, and finished revising in an unused classroom in a local community center.  Now that I've started work on a new novel, I've been trying to write in my dining room, but the frog tank on the table is distracting me (isn't it true we can become distracted by the oddest things).  The crickets we put in there for the frog to eat are drowning.  I feel less sorry for them as frog food, somehow, but more sorry for them because even when I pick them out of the water and put them back on a rock, they dive right in again.  (I know, there are metaphors galore lurking here; I'm just not ready to parse them.)  Not high on the evolutionary ladder, brain-wise, these crickets doing the dead-cricket float.  I try to tell them the frog will only eat them if they're moving.  It's all right if the frog eats them; they've served a noble purpose.  But if they drown, stupidly?  Then I'm a murderer.

I'm thinking I may have to change locations, again. 

Did anyone else notice that when John Edwards endorsed Senator Obama, he paraphrased Ronald Reagan?

 “There is one man who knows in his heart that it is time to tear down that wall and make one America, Barack Obama.”

 Has it come to this?  Does Edwards really believe that the polarization of so-called red and blue America is comparable to that of East and West Germany in 1987?  And what subliminal message is he sending--that Sen. Obama is the next Ronald Reagan--or that Edwards is?

From the NYT: 

In a stark shift for the Bush administration, the United States has
sent a climate report to the United Nations detailing specific and
far-reaching effects that it says global warming will inflict on the
American environment.

In the report, the administration for the
first time mostly blames human actions for recent global warming. It
says the main culprit is the burning of fossil fuels that send
heat-trapping greenhouse gases into the atmosphere.

But while
the report says the United States will be substantially changed in the
next few decades -- ''very likely'' seeing the disruption of snow-fed
water supplies, more stifling heat waves and the permanent
disappearance of Rocky Mountain meadows and coastal marshes, for
example -- it does not propose any major shift in the administration's
policy on greenhouse gases.

It recommends adapting to inevitable changes.  (!)

Didn't anyone in the Bush administration read the story of the ant and the grasshopper?  (Short version:  The grasshopper doesn't plan ahead for winter, and it dies.)

Wow.  It's good Bush has finally come around to the whole climate change thing.  And, considering the outcome of the administration's "proactive" response to Iraq, I can understand their hesitation about responding aggressively to the threat of climate change even if doing so might slow global environmental damage.  Wouldn't want to get in over their heads.  Not again.  Could be a trick. 
The polar bears...could be...faking...

 

I just found out the auto-archive isn't auto-archiving...so I've moved all the posts on the 2008 Campaign, plus some other miscellaneous posts (Hamlet, diets) to a new page called Blog Archive.  Those posts are no longer open to comments.  I've also renamed the Curious Archive, which would have been totally confusing, to 1980 Curiosities, since that's what it is (my posts on intriguing events from 1980 that I came across in the process of researching my novel).  Hope that helps!

Oops, wrong photo...  (party on, girl!)

From an actual conversation:

Child 1: “He hit me”

ME: “Why did he hit you?”

Child 1: “I don’t know.”

ME: “There’s no hitting. Why did you hit him?”

Child 2: “Because he stole my rubber band.”

Child 1: “It was MY rubber band.”

ME: “Aren’t there enough rubber bands to go around?

Child 1: “He has all of them.”

ME: “Give your brother some rubber bands.”

Child 2: “No.”

ME: “Why do you need so many rubber bands?”

Child 2: “For my lumber yard.”

ME: ??

ME: “Last chance.”

Child 2: “No.”

Child 1: “Waah! It’s not fair! He has all the rubber bands.”

ME: “That’s it. No playing with rubber bands for the rest of the day. Now don’t bother me about rubber bands again.”

What do you do to jump-start the creative process when you're stalled on a project, unable to focus, or otherwise stuck?  I bake (I think I've made that clear). And maybe I spend too much time trying to find font colors that work with lavender. (hint: stay away from orange)

Anyway, give me your best ideas for the times when the work just isn't happening.  Or, tell me what you've tried that you hoped would work but didn't. The most interesting response will get a free beginner's bread cookbook!

If you're too shy to post here, send me an email.

First I want to say that I have nothing against Honda Civics.  These cars get good mileage, and that is a very good thing.  And, I have nothing against major Greek gods, as far as I know.  But today on Route 50, I found that I was tailgating, um, traveling behind none other than Zeus (so said the vanity plate).  I couldn't help wondering why he wasn't moving a little faster, imparting some of his Mount Olympus thunder to this respectable while outwardly modest (and rather poorly maintained) vehicle.  And I also must wonder, why the designation "Zeus 1"?  Can I take that to mean there's a Zeus 2 and perhaps even Zeus 3?  Are these other Zeuses decoys?  Say, for when Apollo gets angry?  Seriously, who names their car, and by extension themselves, after a god?  And if, if Zeus drives a Civic, did Hera get the CLK?  Is that why Hades is stuck with a rowboat? 

I'm only trying to understand... 

Maybe he could talk some sense into all those bitter, gun- and Bible-wielding folks. You think? Clearly, Sen. Obama could use some help with his Pennsylvania campaign. Any suggestions?

Don't ribbon magnets seem as tired as the "Baby on Board" signs from the 1970s? (What I really want to see is a sign that says "Sociopath on Board." Then I'm duly warned.) But I digress... What's an apt symbol to replace the yellow ribbon? Does it seem unpatriotic even to suggest it?

We've made some changes here at Curiouswriter HQ--We now have Real Blog capabilities, for one.  But the important things haven't changed.  (We're not going decaf, not yet, not by a longshot.)  

Note that many of the topics below were moved from my old Discussions page, where posting comments worked differently. As a result, you'll see some comments posted within the text in the old format, which could be rather confusing.  But you can still post to those topics, now using the "Add Comment" button.

I don't know why, but the time stamps on all my entries are off.  It's actually 9:30am here, in case you're interested.

It seems that one of the unexpected side "benefits" of having a functional blog has been a sudden onslaught of p**n spam in some of the Comments sections. Now see, I knew it, you're all rushing off for a look! But, if I may offer the spammers a critique, their approach is utilitarian, but rather dull and uninspired. Where were they in the 7th grade when everyone was doing Mad Libs? Listening in from the next room and writing down the words without the story (such as it was)? I mean, at least there should be a story.  I know, I'm talking to a computer which, according to my data, is probably located in Poland.

Maybe if I speak LOUDLY.