The other famous Potter

The other week, in post-Curry-and-Catan languid girl-talk, Jbeany recommended Miss Potter, a romantic biopic of H. Beatrix Potter, author and artist of the Peter Rabbit children's books. Maybe it was Jbeany saying that she liked to movie so much that after watching it on dvd, she immediately went out and bought it. Or maybe it was because she recounted a scene that extolled the virtues of a single woman's life. Whichever, I knew that this would be the next film I wanted the girls to get together to watch.

So, there we were. Nine women. One married. One divorced. Most of us unmarried and single. One student. Three with master's degrees. Two and a half women representing minorities. Originally from four different states. Found out a little more about these women that I'm so interested in getting to know. Excited about my alternative Relief Society.

We potlucked it, then moved to the living room to settle in.

I really liked the film. It was ... charming. As much as I am generally indifferent to Renee Zellweger, I forgot her as she became Beatrix. I was smitten with her relationship with her publisher (played by an endearing Ewan McGreggor), and delighted with her friendship with her publisher's sister (engagingly played by Emily Watson). I was dumbfounded when tragedy struck, eventhough I half-way expected it to happen (no one gets to be that happy, not even in the movies). And I was inspired by all the other things that Potter did with the rest of her life ... caretaker, farm owner, conservator, sheep breeder, scientific artist. She did spectacular things during her life, even when it must have seemed like it was over.

In short, I wholeheartedly recommend the film. Watch it. Then watch the special features. Potter was a fascinating woman. And the Lakes District goes down on my list of places to visit ... along with Prince Edwards Island, the Secret Annex in Amsterdam, and the Austen estate in Chawton.

Making it happen

So, in the spirit of not relying on church leaders, I organized a little girls' afternoon out. Lunch and a matinee movie with some women that I'm interested in getting to know more. Not that I don't like including the guys. Just that time with just girls is rare these days. So, we lunched at Jack Spratt's before going to the new Landmark theatre at Westwood and Pico to see Once, a movie Mr. Giggles had recommended eons ago. I've been listening to the soundtrack on-line, and wanted to see it before it left theatres.

The movie was so lovely. Not a lot of tricks or special effects. Just intimate footage of the two main characters as their story unfolded, and music that seemed to fit right in. On film, some of Glen Hansard's vocals came off a bit harsh, but I still loved it. Marketa Irglova was so charming. The music throughout was tender and touching. The kind of music that makes falling in love easy. Little things, like draggin around a hoover, or nipping hanky-panky in the bud, snagged my attention and made me want the movie to last beyond the standard one and a half hours. Not a standard Hollywood ending, but it brought a tear (or maybe even two) to my eye.

How often do you find the right person? I'll have to get back to you on that ...

In the meantime, I've finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows. Loaned my copy to Wonder Woman, whose guaranteed-delivered-on-7/21-bought-on-Amazon.com-copy never came!!!

Getting some sister before hitting the road

Woke up really early this morning. Much earlier than I should have, given the late hour at which I finally fell asleep. But for once, it was a very good thing to be such an early bird, because I caught the JLITH.

JLITH got back from her multi-European city tour (Milan, Paris, a Turkish city which I can't think of the name of, and Rome) very late on Saturday night. We slept most of Sunday ... she because of jet lag, me mostly doped out on cough medicine. She went to work early Mornday morning, and didn't return until Tuesday afternoon, and slept way before I left to go to the MAC. But when I caught her awake early Wednesday morning, she'd uploaded her pictures onto her laptop, and was ready to tell me about her pictures and trip. She got some absolutely amazing shots of the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the cathedral in Milan, and Notre Dame. When I asked her what she enjoyed the most, it was the river boat trip she took in Turkey. Of which she has no pictures because her battery died. That is a travel tragedy.

So it was that, after a little bonding, JLITh went to work, and I got ready to make the long drive back.

But wait! Let me say a few words about the Beans. Bean1 is getting bigger and stronger, and prattles merrily on all the time. He is super defensive about his brother, and will take on anyone who tries to push Bean2 around. Bean1 is getting into the unfortunate habit of scowling when he gets angry, and yes, he did get quite angry with me a few times. However, he also gave me a number of hugs and kisses, still asks me, "Whacha doin' Dowa?" and loves it when I play Bean1 music on his belly.

Bean2 is also getting bigger, and more verbal, but nowhere near as verbal as Bean1. Bean2 is definitely more active, and stronger. Bean2 is getting to be a bit of a wailer ... and he's quite talented at it. Hopefully he will get out of the habit and learn to use his words more. Genie is training them to put their dishes in the dishwasher so cut down on clutter, and it seems to be working. Bean2 has a passion for Kix cereal.

Bean3 has definitely gotten bigger. Per Bork, Bean3 is off the growth charts for his age. He generally amuses himself quiety in his bouncy layette (?), although he can yowl with the best of them. Genie and Bork both hope that he learns to sleep through the night ... soon.

And so, after giving the Beans and Genie hugs and kisses, I was off for California again. The road was long and uneventful. I was particularly amused by this sign for a town called Browse. That and the Zzyxx one are fun markers along a very un-fun freeway. My goal was to make it to Las Vegas by 18700, so that I would have time to pick up my show ticket eat a little dinner, and take a short nap in my car before the actual show. The thing is, once I realized how hot it was going to be in Vegas, I actually started slowing down so that I wouldn't get there too early! From 80-85mph, I dropped down to 65mph ... really irritating anyone unfortunate enough to drive behind me, but the though of spending too much time in a smoke-filled casino, or having a hot nap in my car was just really unappealing.

I finally rolled into Vegas around 1630. Found the Wynn hotel easily enough, and got a great parking space. Went to get my ticket, and almost had an incident. Apparently Spamalot is doing so well that the box office had to ask the ticket vendors to stop selling tickets for certain shows. The box office girl actually had to check the time when I bought my on-line ticket to make sure it was valid. Thankfully it was, or we'd have had a huge problem!

Had an early dinner at one of the hotel restaurants. And took my (hot) nap in my car (must remember to buy an air freshener ... with warmer temps, the car is beginning to smell like the onion rings and Del Taco I had on the way up).

Spamalot was fabulous. Witty and slapstick and hilarious. Loved John O'Hurley as King Arthur. Dancing with the Stars was an excellent move for him. Not only did it totally revive his career, but he has an incredible fan base, AND he knows how to dance now! Loved the Lady of the Lake and the Laker Girls. And the knights were endearing, if a little gross. Thought RobM did a wonderful job. And, he looks great in spandex.Stayed for a couple of minutes afterwards to congratulate him and snal a picture of him with his family (who were visiting the same night) in front of the marquee with the cast list.

And then I was off. And a mere four hours later, I was at home. Aaaaahhhhh ...

Two for the road ... a taste of Thai

Aaaaaahhhhhh. Three days of working. Three days of working with a headcold and cough. Three days of working with a headcold and a cough and shifting assignments with difficult families. Aaaarrrgggghhh (what a difference a few R's and G's make).

But now I'm off. And instead of leaving this morning for SLC, I decided to take a day to recuperate and revive. Booked a two hour Thai massage at Pho Siam. Aaaahhhh. Wonder Woman and Precious had been there recently and highly recommended it. And as they were with me when I got my first Thai massage, I trusted in their massage-discerning powers.

Got out to Pho Siam (in Echo Park) with a modicum of difficulty. Had to circle the park with the lake a few times before the location made sense. Sometimes on-line maps are not accurate (which makes me want to ditch index card directions and get a GPS system). Was pleasantly surprised to find that PS has its own, ample parking lot. Entered, and was soon shown in to a private room. Was told to change into the loose pants provided, and remain topless. If I hadn't've been forewarned by WW and P, I might have been a little freaked. As it was, I was only a little uncomfortable, and my worries soon evaporated, as the (female) masseuse draped me with towels when she entered.

I should explain that Thai massage is rather different from Swedish massage. Swedish massage uses a lot of oil, and long strokes to increase circulation and blood flow. I generally find that Swedish massage does little to hit my pressure points, and generaly get a deep tissue or sports massage to work through the knots that inevitably spring up in my neck and shoulders.

Thai massage, on the other hand, is much more active. Instead of lying on a raised table like a corpse, one lies on a flat mat on an area that gives the masseuse the ability to move about more freely. The masseuse can walk/move around, using feet, hands, elbows, forearms and knees to get at problematic areas. (The PS masseuse did use a little lotion, but I've not ever had any kind of lubricant with Thai massage before. This may just be a nod to Western ideas of what a massage should incorporate.)

The first hour of the massage, Kim (as I've arbitrarily decided to call her), kept me prone/supine while she loosened me up with lots of pressure. At times she was kneeling on my calves and thighs, at others she was standing up and using the ball, heel or side of her foot to work through my muscles. And there were time when I had to wince and pull away, at which points she backed off on the pressure (but not too much, I asked). Especially on my left leg, which I suspect is less flexible due to the way I dance.

The second hour was my favorite, as it incorporated more active, yoga-inspired stretching. The kind that I need a lot of motivation to do. I was sitting, kneeling, on my side, and everywhichway as Kim used all parts of her extremities to work me out. Again, the left hip is problematic, and I wonder what I can do at home to loosen it up.

When Kim finished, I felt simultaneously relieved and forlorn. I wanted it to go on forever, even as I knew that my body could use a break. I felt ... hmmmmm ... good. Longer. Looser. More flexible. Hmmmmmmm ...

And the Oscar goes to ...

Had a few people over to watch the Oscars. Rather ridiculous, as I hadn't seen more than two or three movies in the theatre this past year, and only two or three on dvd. But it was an excuse to get together with friends, and that reason was reason enough.

First watched the red carpet show. Must say that evening gown kudos go to whoever dressed Gwyneth Paltrow and Reese Witherspoon. Lovely, lovely dresses. Demerits to the reporters from ABC ... irritating and often irrelevant chatter. The better red carpet show was the "highlights" one that just spotlighted the best fashion.

Ellen Degeneres hosted this year. And did marvelously. Loved the opening video clip, where they celebrated the nominees. And loved her gags. Handing a script to Martin Scorsese.Getting her picture taken with another. Vacuuming. And loved the dancers behind the screen who did the amazing shadow formations.

Had a very tense moment near the end. The show ran over. As yew duuuuuueeeee. And I hadn't extended the recording. Which meant that we didn't get to see the last coupe of awards ... which just happen to be the most important ones. There was almost widespread pandemonium. Until someone realized that I'd also set the tivo to record the show right after the Oscars. Aaaaaaahhhhh. So no, we didn't get to watch the Barbara Walters Oscar Extravaganza. But we did get to see the rest of the show. Must remember this for future awards shows. We almost had a meltdown tonight!

And now I'm excited about movies. Some that garnered awards (or didn't) that I want to see ...

Elizabeth I
Children of Men
The Queen
Happy Feet
Half Nelson
The Last King of Scotland
The Pursuit of Happyness
Letter From Iwo Jima
Flags of Our Fathers
Little Miss Sunshine
Pan's Labyrinth

Good day with intermittent ridiculous spots

Woke up early … again. 0500. Tiptoed into the living room to watch some tv. But I forgot something in my bedroom, and as I tiptoed back in, JLITH was coming out of the bathroom. Ridiculous to both be awake when there was no where to be. JLITH fell asleep watching HGTV, and I crept back into bed for some more reading.

Went out for some more Vitamin D at 0830. Walked and talked in the mild sunshine that’s peculiar to Los Angeles winters. Got over to Clementine’s, and realized I’d forgotten my wallet.

Returned to apartment and drove over to The Massage Company for our 1000 appointments. A deep tissue massage for me, with Lupe; and a Swedish massage for JLITH, her very first ever professional massage. Since Lupe knew me, she had me go back and get ready while JLITH was finishing the new client form. Sixty minutes later, some pretty intense knots having been worked loose, I emerged into the bright foyer to find JLITH perusing a magazine.

“So, how was it?”
‘Well … Lisa just got here ten minutes ago.’
“What?!?!?!?!”
‘Apparently there was some family emergency. And she just got here.’
“Are you kidding me? And she didn’t start your massage immediately?”
‘Well, we’ve got all that other stuff to do. And you can get 50% off the next time you come.’
“But the whole point of coming was to get you a massage!”

And so on. Huge disappointment. Lisa is blackballed in my mental filofax for not notifying the office until 1030 that she was going to be late, not arriving until 1050, and not starting immediately on JLITH. Suzie always taught us that if you’re going to be 10 minutes late, to always call ahead. It’s the polite thing to do.

Day got better after that. Drove out to the Third Street Promenade. Parked and walked down to the end of the pier because JLITH wanted to see Big Wave Jump Jump. Something so exceptionally soothing about large bodies of blue water. Lunch at La Salsa.

Back at the apartment, I jumped in the shower while JLITH indulged in some more home decorating shows. Was so relaxed after my shower that I indulged myself with a short nap. Or was it a long nap? Anyway, we left for the homestead later than I’d anticipated. No time for a Franklin Store visit. Got home with about 10 minutes for changing and primping before I had to leave for Arcadia.

Speakeasy moved the week before to the Arcadia Blue’s Café. The only thing I’d heard is that the floor was small, but that didn’t seem like a large impediment, especially since the Derby has a front dance floor the size of a handkerchief. Arrived just about on time, and pretty soon Socrates rambled down the street to join me.

Xray and Katherine taught a beginning blues lesson. Interesting to see how they explain the technique, since I’ve never really taken a “blues” class. Socrates picked up the material easily, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. And then Teddy Lee Hooker was playing, and his fabulous sound was filling the space. And it quickly became apparent that this venue was drastically different than Yesteryears. The crowd moved and swayed, but stayed glued to their seats. It was the queerest thing … like the time Wonder Woman, White Boy and I went to see Big Bad Voodoo Daddy at the House of Blues. The band was putting out tune after tune of fabulously danceable music, and people just didn’t dance. Incredibly bizarre. There was one older couple who danced everything from west coast swing, to rhumba and cha-cha. And there a pair of girls who danced with each other and a smattering of random guys. But even Xray and Katherine didn’t dance much. Socrates and I danced a bit, but I didn’t want to push him to dance a lot in front of a crowd, since I know it can be uncomfortable.

Did one fast song with Xray, and I queried him about the transition from Pomona to Arcadia. Sad to say, turns out that one lindy dancer had been very disappointed in the venue, and sent around a mass email saying that ABC was awful, and that lindy dancers shouldn’t waste their time. Ouch. So incredibly short-sighted and mean-spirited. I felt bad for Xray, since he’s put so much effort into building a blues dance community here.

Coco Montoya was the headliner band of the night. I didn’t think it could get much better than TLH, but Montoya was amazing on the guitar. I would love to hear him again, especially when he isn’t hobbled by a sore throat.

So, Speakeasy. Yes, I’d still recommend it. The lessons are well done. The bands are amazing. Food and drinks are available. And people can dance if they have a partner with them, and the moxie to dance in front of a bunch of non-dancers (not that I think ND’s care at all). So, if anyone is itching to dance on a Saturday night, and you’ve got some friends to bring along, I’d recommend the Speakeasy. And even if you’ve only got one friend, I’d still recommend it. Especially if the company is as congenial as … well, you know who.

Drip and drizzle

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

I have a cold. Yesterday, as we cleaned the garage during the rain, it only felt like I was getting one. But this morning it arrived full force. Right as I was labeling the last of my blog posts. After getting up several times to blow my nose, I admitted defeat. I have a cold.

So, I lay on my large white chair, and settled in. Blanket. Roll of tissue. The Secret Life of Bees. Started and didn’t stop (aside from the periodic blowing of the nose) until I’d reached the end. Sometimes predictable. But lovely. And comforting. And stirring. Entrancing. It made me want to visit Carolina in the summer. Even though I hate hot and humid weather, and especially mosquitoes. All these disincentives seemed trivial compared to the finding of one’s healing place, where secret hurts are released and souls are made whole again. Lovely, lovely book. A good one to start 2007 with.

Doings on a Rainy Saturday

Converted this blog to the new google format. Not that I actually had a choice. Either I hit an inadvertent key, or they were forcing my hand. I think it’s the latter. But I really do like the new format. And spent about 90 minutes labeling past posts.

Entered my garage. Four hours later, it’s a new place. Killed about 25 spiders of various sizes. Swept the largest collection of mouse droppings I have ever seen in my life. Saw one black widow spider. Threw away myriad cans of expired foods. I felt horrible looking at our dumpster. In my defense, the food wasn’t mine … and as much of it was gourmet-ish stuff, I didn’t feel like I could dispose of it without the owner’s permission. But still, I felt bad. However, on the whole, I think the joy of purging the garage just outweighs the sorrow at so much waste.

Nichan, Gameboy and JHW came over for a chat after an anti-war march (rally?) downtown. Interesting to hear their stances on the issue. I still feel so muddled about it all. Paralyzed by indecision. At least that’s one thing I have in common with US politicians.

Over to Pizzicotto for dinner. Che meraviglioso e delizioso! Warm spinach salad, pumpkin gnocchi, the risotto special, and porkchop with polenta. Eaten family style, of course. Lots and lots of carbs. Mmm mmm mmm. I just love it there. Yes, Brentwood may now be overflowing with Italian restaurants, but Pizzicotto is the place for me. Being in the neighborhood also reminded me of Sammie, who is getting married soon. Saw her the other week, and was heartglad to see her so happy.

Then to Borders. Wandered around laughing at ridiculous books, and hungering after good ones. At one point my friend pointed to two books about Lewis and Clark: the Dummies’ Guide, and one more obscurely named.

F: Now which one would you choose. The one with the boring title? Or the one with the insulting title?
Me: Knowing you know nothing is the beginning of knowledge. Er, wait … the beginning of wisdom. Knowing you know nothing is the beginning of wisdom, grasshopper.
F: And the end of wisdom is dumb.

And that was the last thing I heard before the giggles took over …

Ended up getting The Secret Life of Bees. I know it’s one of Madwoman’s favorites, and I’ve been meaning to read it.

And old story retold ... with soul

Went to the movies tonight. By myself. Used the last of the passes A got me as a gift way back when. (Aside: I can't believe that evening movies are now $11 at AMC. Even the mattinees are $9. That's about as close to highway robbery as one can get in a town that frequently makes movies about highway robbery. Good grief! This makes the decision, of which movies are theatre ones vs rentals, much, much easier. I should also note that I used the other pass to see "Step Up," which really didn't merit the ticket, as the dancing, choreography, plot and acting were pretty awful).

Tonight's movie was Stomp the Yard. Yes, the plot was
You Got Served all over again. And yes, the acting was rather mediocre. And yes, I had to laugh and wince whenever some frat boy threw back his head and howled, or made the sign of the hissing cobra with his hand. But the dancing ... aaahhh, the dancing ... 'twas fabulous. And the cinematography kept me riveted. A little choppy, but gritty and gripping. So much so that I didn't even groan (at least not audibly) when the movie ended with the tired and old "tie-breaker" device. Those of you who have seen "You Got Served" will remember what this is.

Anyway. It was expensive. And late. On a night after work. And predictable. But it was great. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a sudden urge to watch my YGS dvd. Thank heavens for dvd menus and scene selection!

Musically Inclined

I’ve been thinking about music lately. Especially since I’m not listening to any in my car. Anyway, a friend asked me about my favorite songs. I started to email back my list, then realized that I missed the important kicker. The actually question was, “do you have a list of songs that you once considered your "favorite," which you look back at and scratch you head about?” Which is an entirely different question. Which did make me scratch my head. This is what I came up with:

In junior high school, I used to be a Depeche Mode devotee. I wore dark eyeshadow, had peroxided hair (which tend to do bad things to asian hair, like make my hair look like a singed black cat), and got my ears double pierced without my parents’ knowledge or consent. Anyway, when I look back on DM songs, I can see how dark, twisty and weird a lot of their lyrics are … not all of it was the up-beat “I Just Can’t Get Enough” stuff. And I think I was properly worn out on “Somebody” from attending too many church dances.

Then there was the summer that my ward went to BYU youth conference, and my friend Rob introduced me to the Def Leopard song, “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” I loved it, but then again, I wasn’t the only one. I think it even garnered a play at one of the youth mega-dances that week. Even funnier was Starr 98.7 FM playing it over and over last year. Quite bizarre to have the old come back as new.

And, I still feel like moving my body every time the Gold Digger song comes on. There’s just something about the way the guys shout, “We want pre-nup! We want pre-nup! Yeaaah” that makes me want to laugh.

However, I do still want to address the favorite songs (sans head scratching) issue. This may be particularly less entertaining, if you even found the first part of this post entertaining, but I give you permission to stop reading at any time.

Favorite song to karaoke to: Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Favorite song lyrics: The Prayer (I prefer the Charlotte Church and Josh Groban cover)
Favorite song to dance to: Wade in the Water by Eva Cassidy
Favorite repetitive song: Praise You by Fatboy Slim and Honey by Moby
Favorite Christmas songs: Coventry Carol, Go Tell It On the Mountain and Angels We Have Heard On High
Favorite song to practice conducting to: Hallelujah chorus
Favorite all time song: Orchestral version of the Love Story theme song

Are there more? Indubitably.

Finding Nemo ... er ... Charlie Tuna

Made plans with a friend to go for a late Saturday lunch, sushi or seafood. It fell to me to find a place, and I had the awful realization that I don't have a good sushi place for West Los Angeles. My favorite sushi place, Sushi Nozawa, is up in Studio City, and isn't even open on the weekend. My favorite general seafood place, Malibu Seafood, is (you guessed it) all the way up in Malibu. And other than those two places, I haven't really frequented sushi or seafood restaurants for the last, say … nine years. Sounds bizarre, given that I actually like fish, and like to order it when I dine out (although I don't really like to cook it at home). However, given Precious' fish ban (that's since been lifted to allow for white fish), it's no wonder that we generally find some Italian or Indian (or even Pho) place to eat.

So, I was on a mission. Find a good sushi/seafood place in West Los Angeles for a late lunch on a Saturday.. Not too expensive, but not cheap either. Some place where it's possible to have a conversation. And some place where the fish is good (and not covered with goopey sauces or other strange accoutrements). Doesn't sound like it should be too difficult? Especially with recommendations from friends …

Au contraire, mon ami. First of all, most reputable sushi places close after lunch at 1430, if they are even open for lunch on the weekend. Most places like like K-ZO, Nagao and The Hump don’t even open for business until 1730 on the weekend. A lot of the other places that are open on the weekend are little hole-in-the-wall types places that are crowded, noisy and not conducible to a nice get-to-know-you conversation. Not that I dislike HITW-type places. Nozawa definitely qualifies as a HITW place. But the chisai maguro there is so delectable that one feels transported to a different plane of existence, so that it is entirely possible to disregard the surroundings.

So, after a couple of days scrounging through various internet sites to find a good place, I went out to do some fieldwork. Scouted out a couple places, but most were not going to be open when I needed them to be, and so I moved on. Finally found a place on Sawtelle that was going to be open, and looked rather passable … if one were to disregard the sakura painted on to the overhead fluorescent light covers. Yes, it’s a bit crowded, but not overly so. And the sushi bar looked well-stocked. Tried the fatty tuna and the jellyfish rolls. Fatty tuna sounds really … well, gross, but it was quite delicious. Plus, the sushi chef chops it up prior to rolling it up, so there is none of that irritating tugging that often happens with unchopped fish. And the jellyfish, which sounded quite interesting, was less that exciting. Also tried the regular tuna, which was good. When it comes down to it, I really like tuna.

As I drove home, I also had another thought. Houston’s. Yes, I know it sounds bizarre that Houston’s would be serving sushi, but I know that they do. And the last time I ate there I actually had some, and it was tasty and inventive without being too over-the-top on trying to be creative. And Houston’s is generally quiet and calm. And there’s plenty of parking. And it’s nearby. And it’s hopefully open.

So, two options for my specific requirements. And now I’m dreaming of Nozawa again …

2006 Book List

Once again, I find myself looking at the list of books I read during the past year, and being startled at how short the list is.

My favorite read this year was undoubtedly The Bookseller of Kabul. Phenomenal. This is a book that I could reread each year, along with The Emperor of Scent.

The runner-up this year was Blink. I raced through it, loaned it out to friends, and reread portions between loans.

The rest of the books are as listed below. Yes, I padded the numbers with a couple children's books. So sue me. I *'d the ones that were particularly good.
Artemis Fowl
* Garlic and Sapphires
Goodbye, I Love You
The Kite Runner
The Know-It-All
* Mauss
Mormon Enigma
Never Let Me Go
* Nickel and Dimed
O Pioneer
Seasoning of a Chef
Snowflake Bentley
* Soul of a Chef
Spook.
Tender at the Bone

As for rereads? The usual. The Emperor of Scent, Pride and Prejudice, Persuasion. So marvelous and fascinating that they draw me back year after year.

The heartache and glory of the nativity

Went to the musical fireside tonight, because I really needed to hear some good Christmas music. YSA ward sharing their talents with the stake. Enjoyed the choral groups.

And then the premiere. Rob M and Diego H's magnus opus (at least, so far). A collection of songs written about the players in the nativity. Zachariah, Elizabeth, Mary, Joseph, Gabriel and shepherds. So wonderful. The talents of the lyricist, composer (and accompanist!) and singers helped me to discover anew the heartache and glory of the Christmas story. Such an accomplishment for all involved. Soon Rob leaves to join a Broadway show in Vegas (the boy also sings beautifully ... so much talent wrapped up in one person). Makes one wonder what lies in store for him. I, for one, already have visions of a Nativity musical hitting NYC in about a decade.

Fowl Wishes

Down to the OC today. Met with Pilgrimgirl and the kids at Whale of a Tale, a fantastic, intimate children's book store in Irvine, for a meet the author event. Eoin Colfer, author of the Artemis Fowl series. His presentation was almost as good as a stand-up routine. Charming, fey, witty, and entertaining ... with an air of the wee people about him. At the end, he allowed time for some Q&A. It was invigorating to see childen so excited about reading. The yasked questions about character origin and development. Colfer advised any young writers to just keep at it, and look on any exercise in writing as a challenge that can lead to success. I was reminded of a Mary Engelbreit literacy poster ... something to the effect of, "Books fall open, you fall in." I wish all children loved to read. Bought the first book in the series for my nephews. Now they just have to hurry grow up a couple of years.

SLC Day 4

Bought a few books this trip, from Sam Weller and from airport stores.

Will I Ever Forget This Day, Carol Lynn Pearson (x2 for friends)
Garlic and Sapphires, Ruth Reichl (copy for me, for Genie to read)
Blink, Malcolm Gladwell (loved this book)
Spook, Mary Roach (I love best her witty ramblings)
Red, Terry Tempest Williams
O Pioneer, Willa Cather


Also finished Mormon Enigma by Newell and Avery. Emma Hale Smith fascinates me. I can't quite comprehend the things she had to endure ... deaths of her children, being apart from Joseph for so much of their married life, knowing or suspecting his relations with other women, being involed in legal tangles with the church following his death, being reviled by church leaders on her remarriage. She's one person I'd like to meet one day.

Carrying On

Bought a carry-on suitcase today. Had planned on getting a snazzy little Salomon number, but it still took me visits to a couple stores, and serious deliberations in REI. And then, when I did purchase said snazzy number, I didn’t even make it to my car before I realized that I’d made a mistake. Quickly returned to the store and got the Victorinox number with the swivel handle that makes walking and pulling so easy. I love it. Small enough to carry-on, but expandable 3 inches. Bright red and easy to spot. And the joy of the swivel handle. Watch out world, here I come!

The Sushi Nazi

Being that it was FGITW's birthday today, and being that we were both free, I was finally able to take her out to lunch at Sushi Nozawa. I've been wanting to share this find with her for a while, but could never find a time when she, I and Nozawa were all free. And frankly, Nozawa was the most problematic one.

Sushi Nozawa. Little dive place in Studio City. Only open two hours for lunch, four and a half hours for dinner, and only during the week. Only one sushi chef. Rather pricey. No take-out. And yet, it's the best sashimi I've eaten in the US. So fresh and tasty. My favorite is the chisai maguro (or little tuna): exquisite slices of fish served with scallions and ponzu sauce. Sugoku oishi desuyo!

Anyway, we sat at the bar, which is an experience in and of itself. At the bar, one can only eat Omakase style. Which basically means that you eat whatever Nozawa puts in front of you. The sushi rice is warm (hence the no take-out rule), and the nori (when he uses it) is crisp. And the sashimi ... heavenly.

At the bar, FGITW talked about Allen Say, boys and men, and cabbages and kings. And then she charmed Nozawa with her flawless Japanese, blonde hair, and winning ways. At one point he gestured to a patron behind us and shouted, "No phone! No phone in here!" And then muttered to us about the abominable manners of American people who talk on cell phones. FGITW quietly reached in her purse and put her phone (which she is never without) on vibrate. I wanted to turn around and see the lady with the abominable manners, but was too chicken that he'd bust me for staring.

Anyway, it was a great way to spend the day. Scrumptious sashimi and some good soul talk with my Japanese sister.

Meet the ... uhm ... older sister archetype?

So, Wry-an has been wanting me to meet Georgia Peach. Actually, I'd already met her, and liked her, and been impressed before I ever knew he knew her. But I got the impression that he wanted me to like her more than just as a girl who's excited to learn about swing/blues dancing. So I offered to take them out to dinner. And a couple of weeks later, we finally got our schedules insync enough to get together.

Went to Pizzicotto in Brentwood. My favorite Italian eatery. Il cibo e' tanto delizioso (that sounds about right, although my Italian is so corrupted by the broken Spanish I use at work, that I don't half trust myself). We ate outside, a first. Mixed green salad, risotto di terra (my favorite), grilled salmon with veggies, and pumpkin gnocchi. Meraviglioso!

Lots of talk. The Emma Smith bio I have on my to-read list. Sunstone symposium. Georgia and the southern wave. Travel for fun. Travel for work. GP's clinic work in Africa. Good times.

Anyway, they have my approval. Not that they need it. But I am rooting for them. I want them to be happy.

And really, I would like to see all of my friends happy. It makes me sad when good friends are unhappy, or I see friends doing things that I can't see leading to happiness. But then again, I'm a friend, and not their mom. And I think they will be vastly happy. And really, no one needs my approval. Not even my youngest brother (who is one year younger than Wry-an), although I hope he doesn't ever hook up with THAT GIRL again.

Sunstone: Smith-Petit Lecture

Dinner with Bork, Genie, Big and Little Bean, Genie's dad and two of his grad students at Mazza, which I love. Especially their chicken with eggplant dish! Then, off to Sunstone.

~~~

Hmmm ... the first time that I've ever heard "Saturday's Warrior" as an opening song. Even more startling wasArdean Watts as the chorister. I think he stopped the music about three times, demanding and cajoling the audience to sing with more verve and feeling.
Mark Pinsky ~
Secular media incorporating more religious themes, driven by capitalism
Christian media trying to create effective alternative

Evangelical Protestants:
concerned w/hypersexualized and violent elements in pop culture
don’t want children to participate in it, but also don't want to marginalize
children from good experiences that their peers are having. Also don't want
to make it more appealing (forbidden fruit)
create viable, alternative culture.
Bonus: preserve constituency, and create vehicle to propagate message.
Secular media:
marketability of Christianity
Incorporation brings in lost constituency, also reached secular (mainline
protestants)
Left Behind series … pulp fiction based on Revelations
Publishing is incremental and low risk, can lead to serious discussions with
light-hearted settings
Oliver North (yes, I was momentarily confused on this one): thrillers with
low key Christian themes and characters
Bonneville books
The DaVinci Code
Harlequin Christian romances
Movies:
Signs w/M. Gibson
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
Chronicles of Narnia
Dutcher films
Veggie Tales
The Spitfire Grill
Evangelicas don't have enough product to replace mainline media
What to do?
Christian websites that prescreen movies
Edited films – ruled down by courts
Okay to use software to edit, but not for company to edit and sell
Financial battle … ie: films sold to airlines or edited for tv
Financial impediments to making Christian films/tv (not incremental like books
… all costs all up-front)
Luther (w/Raffe Feines?)
Gospel of John
Quality, low budget films, costing $2 million … but need good talent
(writing and acting)
Major Hollywood Studios paying attention?
Highway to heaven, Touched by an angel, 7th heaven
Producers now salting Christian values, etc into mainline, primetime shows
(instead of making whole new series)
Like the Gay character, the Christian character becoming a staple?
Mostly, but not all, Good. Problematic
Big Love: regular vs polygamous characters, interactions
Christian music vs lyrics
Music can also be incremental and inexpensive
Public Christian rock stations – raise money like public radio
Computer Christian video games – no sex and less violence, salvation by works?
‘I don’t participate in “that” kind … I have my own’
Theme parks (in Florida, with creationist, etc themes?) with interactive games
Is this sincere hunger for spirituality? Or dumbing down of religious discourse,
and capitalistic drive?
Spiritainment? (Left Behind people).
Ressurection: Sony and Tim Lehey
Veggie Tales return to big screen, backed by Universal Studios
Sony hired consultants to “sell” DaVinci Code to Evangelicals, who mobilized
to leverage and use film as messenger for Evangelical values
My musings: increased visibility of mormons in reality tv. It started with that girl on The Real World, who ended up getting the boot from BYU because she cohabitated with guys. Ashley del Grasso from Dancing With The Stars. And the slew of LDS dancers on So You Think You Can Dance, two of whom made it to the finals. Incredible mobilization of members to watch and call in votes. Also, Greg Whitely's documentary, New York Doll.

Our four hour tour

After the inital meet, Perky, Charming, DaveX and I were off to Santa Barbara for a day of kayaking! I've had a hankering to try it for about a year, and Perky's suggestion came at the perfect time, ie: during the massive heat wave.

Being as DX is a soundtrack critic, we discussed movies and soundtracks all the way up. The one produced soundtrack we can all agree on is Garden State, which we all love. My produced list also included Phenomenon, Holes, and Hope Floats. As for scored music, I love the music for
The Last of the Mohicans, and can remember being stirred by the music of
The Piano ... although my favorite all-time scored song is the full orchestral version of the theme song from Love Story.

When we finally made it up to the marina, who should we see in the rear view mirror ... BH! and Wooloo, the very people we were meeting. Trudged over to the kayak store, irritated the cute and tatted rental guy, and ate breakfast. Back at the kayak store, we paid separately (furthering the irritation factor), but CATRG must have liked us, because he only charged us the 2 hour rate for the 4 hours we planned on being gone. After a quick lesson on the basics of kayaking, we were off!

Before we had left (the rather extensive) harbor, I had reason to be grateful for the basics lesson. I fell over. Yup, in the nasty and absolutely disgusting harbor water. If FGITW had been there, she would have commiserated with me over my impending gonorrhea (not giardia, mind you)! I felt so icky that I decided to do it again once out in the open water, much to the delight of the sea lions on the nearby buoy, who woke up enough to bark for an encore. And after two dips in the ocean, I decided to not do any more acrobatics until I had a paying audience (by which I mean that I learned to lean back, not tense up, and paddle at right angles to the waves).

We paddled over to the beach just up the coast. Got out and did a litle frolicking, but decided that kayaking was more fun. So out we went again. BH! was the last on shore, as he helped me and Wooloo to get on and out past the breakers. We continued up the coast, and decided to round the point. When we reached the area, we beheld a beautiful small cliffy area with trees bordering the top. Also at this point, the water smoothed out and assumed the appearance of molten glass. I stopped paddling so I could just contemplate the sheer perfection of it. I felt as I were flying over a kelp forest. Every once in a while a dark shadow beneath would move, giving me shivers as I imagined large sea beasts meandering beneath my insubstantial piece of plastic.

A bit further we went, and then I started heading back. Not that I was through for the day, but I wanted to check out the surfers ... both traditional and those using kites to harness the power of the wind. Amazing.

BH! and Wooloo eventually caught up with me. We found that going back, while easier due to the pull of the tide, was also more screwy, as it was impossible to move in a straight line; half of our energies were spent trying to stay on course. When we got to the ramparts (I know there's a more specific word, but can't think of it now ... anyway, a rocky barrier with a walkway on top), the other two paddled out a distance and battled the surf, but I let the tide carry me along. Occassionally I dipped my paddle in the water to direct my path, but the swirling water did all the propulsion work. Once back at the shop, we returned the gear and surreptitiously used the hose in the back to clean off the mucky water. It was here that I discovered the awful sunburn that extended the length of each leg, and made my face look like a veteran ski bum's. Alack and aday ... my sunglasses and hat didn't protect me from the reflection off of the waves, and I'd forgotten to slather stuff on my legs!

Quick dinner at Acapulco (where I satisfied my craving for fish tacos), and we were back on the road to LA. At home, after surveying the damage, I decided that Camp Hollywood would have to wait for another year.