A Bad Week, but...

It's not been the best of weeks: a heat wave, a new leak in our bathroom ceiling, workmen coming in and out for a day and a half, minimal writing.

Let's focus on the good. The heat wave is over. We went to an art manifestation festival in Norwalk this afternoon, heard some music. On a chalk board about manifestation, I wrote: "I will write the books." Note: I didn't write the "Without Hesitation" part, but it works for me.

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I've done online research on Sylvanus Merwin for one book.

I contacted a friend I haven't seen in years, and we planned to get together. We had a dog park Saturday because it was too hot on Friday.

Think about the good.

The Barbarian 1933

I previously recorded this movie and watched it on Sunday. I've been trying to make sense of it ever since. 

It begins as a kind of farce. Ramon Novarro stars as Jamil, a guide (secretly a prince) who romances the tourists he meets. In the opening minutes, he pledges love to both an American and a German tourist and exchanges "family heirlooms" for valuable jewelry from his loves. 

Then Myrna Loy as Diana arrives in town to meet her fiance. Jamil ingratiates himself with her by returning her dog after her Uncle Cecil (C. Aubrey Smith) and companion (Louise Closser Hale) leave the dog alone after arguing over who should take care of her. 

Smith and Hale are very funny. Cecil is taking every opportunity to take a drink and can never seem to find cash when he needs to give someone a tip. I love when Cecil asks if there's a bar up there when Diana and Jamil are climbing a pyramid at night. 

Soon the tone of the film changes. Jamil appears in Diana's bedroom unannounced and unwelcome. He takes over her caravan after she fires him when she wants to visit her fiance. When she demands they return to Cairo, he separates her from the rest of the caravan, degrades her, rapes her, and attempts to marry her. 

Later Diana returns to her fiance, meets his overbearing mother, and is about to get married, but runs off with Jamil for a happy ending. 

I've left out many details and a few characters, but that is the gist of the film. The change in the tone is jarring, and the end is disturbing. I realize there have been many changes over the years in what is considered romantic, but events in this film are too much. 

It's strange that Myrna Loy, born in Montana, was cast as an exotic vamp in the 30s, but later a perfect wife in the 40s. Ramon Novarro was a Mexican cast as an Egyptian,  Edward Arnold, son of German immigrants, was cast as another Egyptian. Hollywood was "color blind" in its own way. Maybe I should say it still is. 

I would love to see a remake of this film as a romantic comedy as it seemed to be at the outset. It would be a challenge to get rid of all the offensive scenes, but well worth it. 

More Photos

I got another good photo of Lola out of three tries at Taylor Farm during a morning visit on a hot day. 

Yesterday at Oyster Shell Park, I took a few more photos. This is what I think is a heron taking off.

Here's a bloom on a plant at eye level that caught my eye.

Here's a butterfly. Oyster Shell is part to Norwalk's Pollinator Pathway. I hope to see more evidence of its success. 

Our Lola

I was scrolling through the photos on my phone last week and saw this. I had forgotten to post it. This is one of the best photos of Lola. It's almost as if she were posing (for once--she usually shrinks from the camera.)

Lola is standing on a rock cropping near the picnic table where we meet our friends at Taylor Farm on Friday night. She is beautiful.

Waiting out Henri

We've been hearing about Henri all week. I have to admit that I didn't take it seriously until yesterday. Then I heard/read that this was the first time in 30 years that a hurricane/tropical storm hit landfall in New England. Power outages, storm surges, heavy rain, and flooding were predicted. 

We had plenty of food in the house, and have a gas stove so we can cook even without electricity. I had about 2/3 to 3/4 of a tank of gas in my car. I never expected to evacuate. We live on Hospital Hill and haven't had floods in this neighborhood in the 30+ years we've lived here. We do have emergency provisions, but I didn't feel the need to get them together. I did get out some battery operated lanterns and filled a big pot and several pitchers with water. I put a plastic tub in the bedroom under the ceiling where we had a leak last month. My optimistic expectations of a quick repair did not materialize. 

So far, so good. We've had rain, but no torrential downpours, no strong winds, no additional ceiling leakage. 

We have another 24 hours of rain predicted, but I think that once again, we've gotten off easy.

Unlikable Protagonists

I've seen some stories--more leaks and gossip items than stories actually--about the new Sex and the City reboot.

Jeff and I watched all six seasons of the show (first on Netflix, later seasons on HBO) and both movies. At some point I realized that I didn't like any of the four main characters. Carrie was self-centered, selfish, and obnoxious. Her friends? I liked Samantha the best; she would be fun to hang out with. Television Without Pity nailed it when it named them, Slutty, Prissy, and Bossy. Each was primarily a stereotype. Yet I kept watching. 

Maybe I got used to watching and enjoying unlikable characters by watching soap operas. You need characters such as Erica Kane and Palmer Cortlandt from All My Children, and Dorian Lord and Asa Buchanan from One Life to Live. They add spice and much of the action that drives the story. Actually I found all of these characters likable, at least at times. They were core characters who grew over the years. Truly evil characters such as Ray Gardner on All My Children and Mitch Lawrence on One Life to Live work in shorter story arcs. 

I have a similar reaction to some Reality TV personalities. I can enjoy watching their antics even though I couldn't stand most of these people in real life.

Unlikable protagonists are harder to overcome in dramas. Sometimes I get angry with Claire on Outlander and yell at the TV. But I still like Claire. That's not true about June from The Handmaid's Tale. I loved the first season, enjoyed the second. I'm not sure when I decided that I hate June. At the end of Season Three, she was carried off by the other handmaids after she was shot aiding the escape of many children to Canada. At first, I thought she was dead, and the angels were carrying her to heaven, and I was glad. I still watched Season Four, but find it harder to stomach her. 

The only show I stopped watching because I couldn't stand the protagonists is Lost. In this case, it was Kate and Jack. I'm not sure why this is the only show I abandoned, maybe because I had only seen a few episodes, and wasn't invested yet. From what I've heard, people were disappointed with the ending. Maybe it's good I didn't stick with it. 

As for Season Five of The Handmaid's Tale, I just have to wait and see. 

Swan Update

I first saw the baby swans at the end of May when they were swimming with their parents on the Norwalk River.  I posted pictures here a week later. 

A few times in the past two weeks, I saw the parents with only two babies or cygnets. I hoped this didn't mean anything ominous. Last Wednesday, I saw the whole family on the shore. That was a relief. 

The swans are mute swans. At first, I was a little confused because Wikipedia listed mute swans' habitat as Europe into China, but they are an invasive species. The swan family has been my favorite birds to watch lately. I haven't seen any egrets in weeks and no hawks in months. 

Even Lola noticed the swans the day I took the picture. She seemed annoyed when I stopped to look at them. Later she looked through missing slats on the fence to watch them for a few minutes. 

Usually the cygnets hang around with the parents until fall. I'll be watching. 

A Visit to Elephant's Trunk and the Merwinsville Hotel

Today I did a repeat of a trip I made 11 years ago. Although I'm not doing The Artist's Way--I gave up on daily pages about a year-and-a-half ago--I realized this was a perfect artist date for me. 

After I took Lola to Taylor Farm and we had brunch at home, I headed to Elephant's Trunk flea market. I arrived around 1; it closes at 2. I had hoped to get there earlier, but I was satisfied with my time there. I did maybe a third to a half of the vendor tables. I bought a few things. I saw a pair of shot/liqueur glasses that I liked--the tops were shaped like white wine glasses and the stems were metal and shaped like grapes and leaves. We have more than enough liqueur glasses, but these were really cute. Then the vendor offered me five for $5. Sold.

Next I bought a political button: Betty Ford for President for $1. I saw other political buttons (I collect them) but they were pins I already had or were for candidates I didn't know. 

My final purchase was a promotional container of Bourbon in the shape of Mount Rushmore. Oddly enough, after I saw a promotional Crown Royal barrel, I thought about the Mount Rushmore container I had bought for my sister in honor of our trip there. When I saw this one--I had to get it. 

My real reason for this trip was to visit the Merwinsville Hotel. I had received an email about the hunt for 50 spheres hidden in various places in Litchfield and Fairfield Counties in honor of the 50th anniversary of the hotel's restoration efforts. The hotel is open Sundays from 2 to 4 for visits. Plus after writing about the hotel for a class assignment, I remembered that I had wanted to write about Sylvanus Merwin. 

Now's the time to write a book about him. Yes, I'm writing a time travel book (stalled at the moment) but why can't I work on two? They're very different so each can be a good break from the other.

I went on a tour of the hotel, put aside a few things to buy (t-shirt, a wine glass, and two beer sampler glasses) and started looking for the sphere hidden there. I found it among the logs in the fireplace. I was so excited. I really wanted to find one. I imagined myself searching in the outhouse on the hotel property (ugh) and visiting all the other places on the list. Yay for me. Once home, I registered my sphere online at the hotel's website.

I also talked to a woman conducting a tour who knew a lot about the hotel. She will send me some materials, including a story by a Virginia Smith. 

It's weird Virginia Smith is the name of my grandmother. In a recent true-crime assignment for my writing class, the victim was George Smith--the name of my uncle. 

I hope this portends something good.

Unwanted Touching

I was surprised when I refreshed my computer the other day and read that Andrew Cuomo resigned as Governor of New York. Just a few hours earlier, I read that he was determined to fight the charges. Then I saw his attorney at a press briefing while I was at the gym.  She (of course, it was a she) was talking about the problems with the Attorney General's report: it had errors, the investigators didn't interview enough people, the investigators acted as prosecutors, judge and jury of Cuomo.

Regardless of the merits of the lawyer's arguments, the strategy was more effective than Cuomo's first attempt. It was a video of Cuomo hugging and kissing people. Its message seemed to be: I hug and kiss everyone, deal with it. 

About 15 years ago, Jeff, Spike, and I were on a patio at a Stamford bar for some kind of dog-related fundraising event when two local politicians stopped by. We chatted for a few minutes and told them we were from Norwalk and couldn't vote for them. One, a well-known local figure, put his hand on my shoulder for a minute. It wasn't sexual in any way; it was just weird and inappropriate. I know there is a tradition of glad handing in politics, but it's not necessarily the literal laying of the hands.  

George HW Bush was known to grope women when posing for photos. I previously thought this was only in his later years (he called himself David Cop-a-feel) but here's a description of an incident from 2003. I heard photo ops gropes were also part of Cuomo's MO. It's an easy way to keep well-mannered women and girls in line. Do they want to draw attention to themselves and ruin the photo? Do they really want to rock the boat over someone touching their butts?

Cuomo recently explained that he didn't think he had ever crossed the line but the line had been redrawn. That's bullshit. People--mostly women--are just a bit more willing to step up and say what happened to them and what's unacceptable. 

Here's one more personal story. About 25 years ago, I was in the copy room at the office. One of the admin assistants--Janet who is black--came into the room. Janet had some kind of scarf in her hair--and I cringe to write this--I said, "oh what's this?" and reached up to touch it. She shrunk away from me, a fake smile frozen on her face. Janet was clearly uncomfortable. I knew I had fucked up even though I didn't really understand why. I felt like an asshole and quickly left the room. 

Now, it doesn't matter that I didn't understand the issues concerning black women and hair and that I didn't mean to make Janet uncomfortable. What matters is the result. I never tried to touch anyone's hair again. Janet, I'm sorry and I'm sorry that my apology is 25 years after the fact. 

So Andrew Cuomo, Joe Biden, etc.: Just stop touching people. It's not that hard. Here's an assist from Jezebel. 

Book 18: Hour of the Witch by Chris Bohjalian

I really enjoyed this book. In addition to a prologue and epilogue, it consists of two parts: "The Book of the Wife" and "The Book of the Witch."

Mary Deerfield is a 24 year-old woman married to a much older man in 1662 Boston. Unfortunately Thomas Deerfield is also cruel and violent, even while he presents a respectable image to the townspeople. His violence has been escalating, and after Thomas stabs Mary in the hand with a fork, she decides she can't continue to live with him and seeks a divorce. 

"The Book of the Wife" describes everyday life in the 17th Century, Mary's background, and her divorce proceedings. Even during these proceedings there are hints that Mary is risking something more dangerous: a charge of witchcraft. 

After Mary's divorce is denied, she reluctantly returns to Thomas. First she plans revenge, later escape. Both plans are foiled and she is arrested for witchcraft in "The Book of the Witch."

The only downside of the book for me is that it's a little slow in the beginning. I loved reading about everyday Puritan life, but there was too much repetition about Mary's masturbation, thinking about hot guys including her son-in-law, and whether this was sinful or not. 

Re-reads

Sometimes I just want to read something, but I don't know what to read next or I'm not in the mood to start a new book. So I'll pick up a book that I've already read before. 

When I did that recently, I completely re-read two books: Straight Up and Dirty by Stephanie Klein and Driving Lessons by J.M. Gleckler. 

Straight Up and Dirty is basically Stephanie Klein's memoir about the break-up of her marriage and her return to the dating world and healthier relationships. The story is not linear but weaves between scenes from her marriage and of her new relationships. Stephanie is a good writer, but can be a little too cutesy with her made-up words (e.g. wasband.) I learned about Stephanie through a Sunday Styles New York Times story in 2005 and read her blog for some time. I liked it enough to get her book.

Driving Lessons subtitled: The Adventures of Matt & Marty McCly  by Joan (aka J.M.) Gleckler is about a married couple who become long-distance truck drivers. Each chapter details a person they meet or a place they visit on the road. I met Joan at the first writing retreat I attended about 30 years ago and heard parts of the novel  in progress. I enjoyed re-reading the book, but it wasn't as funny as I remembered. 

Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell: I picked up the book again to write this post about scents in writing. I didn't re-read it as much as re-skim it. Someday I'll write a complete post about the book and the film. 

A New Week

I'm happy to start a new week because last week was bad. It started a week ago Sunday (technically the end of the previous week.) I had a weird sharp pain in my side. It hurt every time I bent over. I did an abbreviated workout at the gym and ended up vegging the rest of the day. After that the pain subsided to a dull ache. I could live with that. I returned to the gym on Thursday and exercised here on three days. That's not too bad for a bad week. 

As I posted on Tuesday, I stayed up till 1 AM to finish Paradise Alley. Unfortunately, that messed up my sleep for the whole week. Even this morning I woke up at 3:30 and tossed and turned for about three hours before finally getting up.

I had one good night of writing for my class today. I gave myself permission to drink more wine because I was writing. Not the best idea, that helped mess up my sleep too. 

Saturday night I ruined the dinner. I had defrosted a ribeye steak and got corn on the cob and tomatoes at the farmer's market. Although I had made the steak before the same way, this time is was much too raw, and then I overcooked it. It was very frustrating. At least I redeemed myself Sunday with Chicken Milanese, Romesco sauce, roasted potatoes, and a avocado cucumber salad.

Then there are the New York Mets. Sigh. On Friday as the Mets began a three-game series with the Phillies, I told Jeff that the Mets had to sweep. Their lead has already dwindled to a half-game in the National League East. Well, there was a sweep, but it was not by the Mets. The Mets start today in third place behind the Phillies and the Braves. They hope this is rock bottom. Sigh. Being a Mets fan isn't easy.

On a more positive note, we shared our true crime stories in today's fiction class: they were really good. Next week our theme is carnivals and we have to write an Abcedarian story. The first sentence starts with A, the second with B, through Z. I've done two of these before. A few of the letters are challenging, but it's fun. Next week is our last class of the summer, and then we're off for four weeks. 

We're heading into a heat wave. That will give me time to do the cleaning that I neglected last week and some writing. Sounds like a plan. 

Book 17: Rachel Calof's Story: Jewish Homesteader of the Northern Plains

My friend Chris reminded me that the Norwalk Library has free books outside its entrance. The next time I drove by and picked up a few books. One is a book of poetry and the other is memoir. 

Rachel Bella Kahn's world fell apart when her mother died when she was only four years old. A cruel caretaker and a cruel stepmother deprived Rachel and her siblings of food as well as affection. Their father later abandoned them. 

At 18 with no prospects, she traveled to America for an arranged marriage with Abraham Calof. Rachel had no idea of the primitive lifestyle she was joining. She worked hard laying wood floors and making walls, to make a better life for herself and her family.

A Mets Misery Meter

It seems that every time I thought about writing about the Mets this season, something bad happened: they lost a game or a player got injured or both. Now, I feel that it doesn't matter. 

The Mets were in first place in the National League East for almost three months. Until today. Of course, it wasn't just because of today's game. Too many games were lost against bad/mediocre teams such as the Marlins and the Pirates. 

I became a Mets fan sometime in 1985. 1986 was the first season I followed. I didn't appreciate how incredible the team was that year, finishing with a record of 108-54, over 20 games ahead of their leading competitor--the Phillies--in the National League East. Even with that record, the National League Championship Series and the World Series were challenging.

There was a time when I was happy to see the team above .500. I remember saying something like that in the 2015 season when the Mets made it to the World Series, but lost. I also watched them lose to the dreaded Yankees in 2000 and then the Cardinals in the National League Championship Series in 2006.

I guess it now hurts more when the Mets get close, but somehow blow it. 

Maybe first place in the National League East in 2021 didn't mean all that much based on how the other contenders seemed inept.  Now it's the Mets' turn to be inept. As someone reported, they're playing their worst ball at the worst time of the year.

Sigh. Fandom hurts. 

I don't want to give up hope. It's too soon for that. But reality is creeping in. In the next three weeks, the Mets play the Dodgers and the Giants 13 times. That's scary. If the Mets can't score against the Marlins and the Pirates, what hope do they have against the Dodgers and the Giants?

I guess the operative word is hope. Let's keep hoping.

Two from the Thirties from Warner Bros

Yesterday I watched Black Fury (1935) starring Paul Muni. I recorded it off TCM without reading the description. I thought it was about a Klan-like society. No, it's about a union struggle in the Pennsylvania coal mines. I hadn't seen it before. 

Muni plays Joe Radek who is devastated when his fiancee runs off with another man. His drunken antics lead to him being manipulated by an outside agitator to break up the union. Joe comes through in the end and wins his fiancee back. 

I love the gritty look of Warner Bros. films about unions, secret societies, juvenile delinquents, and gangsters. It was fun to check out the Warner Bros. contract players such as Barton MacLane, Ward Bond, and Henry O'Neill. Plus I recognized John Qualen (but had to check where I had seen him--Berger in Casablanca); Vince Barnett (from Scarface); Willard Robertson from Torchy Gets Her Man, and an uncredited cameo from Addison Richards from another Torchy Blaine film, Smart Blonde.

The Man Who Played God (1932) The story was so nice, George Arliss made it twice (sorry): a silent version in 1922 before this version. Arliss plays a brilliant concert pianist who loses his hearing in an explosion. Davis is his protegee in her sixth film that probably salvaged her early career in Hollywood. It was hard to get beyond the fact that Arliss looked like a wax figure, but it was a good movie.

Book 16: Paradise Alley by Kevin Baker

I loved this book. The last 50 or so pages were so gripping, I stayed up until 1 AM to finish reading it. I can't remember the last time I did that. I often doze off reading even good books. 

Paradise Alley is an account of the 1863 Draft Riots in New York City. But it's so much more than that. Meticulously researched, the book provides detailed descriptions of daily life in Paradise Alley, famine in Ireland, and tactics of Civil War battles. The research never takes away from the narrative but enriches it. 

Its story is told from multiple points of view, but focuses on three woman, Ruth, Deidre, and Maddy. They all live in Paradise Alley, but in some ways live in different worlds, until they band together to save themselves.

I can't wait to read more of Kevin Baker. 

Another Look at Body Heat

Over the last two days, I rewatched Body Heat. I want to comment on a few scenes. 

In one, Ned is casing the Breakers where he plans to dump Edmund Walker's body, timing the passes of the police or security personnel. Why is he wearing a red shirt as he hides behind a trash can? Wouldn't gray or black be a smarter choice? 

As Ned is in Miami to establish his alibi for the murder of Edmund Walker, a clown in full make-up drives by in a convertible. This isn't a blink-and-you-miss-it scene; Ned notices and stares at the clown. 

A few scenes later shows a spider in the middle of a web. Who/what will it ensnare?

That's one thing I love about re-watching a film or TV show, re-reading a book. or even listening to a story in class the second (or third) time, there are things you missed the first time around or just didn't pay attention to. There is always more.