Happy Heart

I recently got an angry, hate-filled email from a fan of Biff Rose (whose music I recommend here).  Aside from the fact it was not suitable for a family web site (of which this is one) it also wasn't very well written or even slightly amusing or entertaining in anything but a rather pitiful way (I will have to say one thing for Biff: he generates more email than anything else on this site with the exception of our cats.  There may be something cosmic in that statement, but I doubt it).  

I've actually corresponded with Biff and I think I could safely say he would not be pleased by this fan's email to us, nor would he be angry or concerned over what we wrote about him here (remember: we like Biff, although it's the early Biff that gives us joy).  But the email did contain a relevant message, which I'll paraphrase in one sentence: "You are not qualified to critique Biff's recent work because you have not produced anything of the same quality nor achieved any of the same success."

This is certainly a legitimate opinion to express, and is actually a familiar refrain of many (although usually the artists themselves and not their fans :>)  Basically it boils down to the old "Those who can't do, criticize" school of thought.

Artists and critics have for years squared off against each other, each believing in the truth of what they are offering to the public.  It's somewhat paradoxical in that a critic is also an artist of sorts: and thus (in an ever spiraling meta storm of confusion) can themselves be critiqued.  If one wanted to neatly wrap this up in a sophistical knot I could point out the emailer has no right to respond to me in such a negative manner since they themselves have not produced anything of the same quality or success as this web site.

But what concerns me is not the criticism but rather the anger behind it.  Why so much anger?  I think the answer is in the nature of the web.  Nowadays the web stands as the modern day equivalent of a newspaper, and this email was certainly invocative of the old "Letters to the Editor" that Steve Allen used to read so amusingly on his show. 

In the case of the monolithic newspaper, people saw themselves as essentially powerless to respond, to reach the same audience, so they would fire off their angry missives in an effort to vent this helpless feeling they had.  Ironically, by publishing these letters, the newspaper actually provided a forum in which these same people found themselves empowered. 

I won't do this here.  This is neither a newspaper nor a democracy, and I remain the sole arbiter of what should and shouldn't be published.  It's nice that thousands of people each month continue to visit this little corner of the world, but I would hope that those who come here realize this should be a place for joy and caring.  In a world so in need of love and understanding, it's a little sad that many of us find the only way to express ourselves is to behave in such a childish fashion.  As (the younger) Biff would say, "Fill your heart with happiness."

God Bless Us

There’s no American who has not experienced some deep feelings about the terrorist attacks that happened in New York City.  Not to disparage or ignore other nationalities, some of whom have experienced similar attacks (although nothing approaching this scale has occurred anywhere else).  But something unique to the American experience has occurred, and as other far more learned individuals have written, the world for us will never be the same.

Millions of words have been written (and will be written) on this subject, and I’m not going to bring new insights to this situation.  Both the similarities and differences between Pearl Harbor and this latest horror have been discussed and reviewed, with the principle emphasis being that with Pearl Harbor we at least could identify our target for retaliation with a degree of certainty that is lacking now.  It’s also worth nothing, however, that another big difference is Pearl Harbor was primarily a military target.  For right or wrong, if the planes had hit the Pentagon only I suspect the mood in this country would be far different.

I’m going to continue to post images on this site: too many friends and family want to see the latest.  I’ll even continue to provide movie reviews as well as information about digital photography.  I’m not sure, however, when or if I’ll be writing any light-hearted pieces here.  My heart isn’t light anymore, and I don’t know if it can be anytime soon.

Life will go on.  We will all live and laugh and love and enjoy the pleasures this world has to offer.  We human beings are resilient, and even in the face of the Holocaust the Jews were able to maintain their spirit.  Indeed, much of our humor today comes from the Jewish experience, a people who have truly suffered like few others have suffered and yet were able to laugh about it.  In Fiddler on the Roof, Tevye is talking with God.  “I know, I know.  We are your chosen people.  But, once in a while, can’t you choose someone else?”

Breaking up is hard to do

I'm having trouble getting DSL service.  It isn't that it's not available in my area -- that technological hurdle was jumped a few months ago when my entire city (small that it may be) was wired for it.  No, my problem is organization.

Through a series of twists and turns so elaborate it's painful for me to recount, it will be at least another week or two before I'll be able to surf the net like our forefather's never intended.  The bottom line, as Kristy (my Nevada Bell DSL rep) so nicely hinted at, is the breakup of Bell into all the baby Bells.  And the breakup of these into even smaller pieces of pie, until we're left with a system so convoluted even the Chinese (those brilliant inventors of Bureaucracy) would not understand.

All of which is well and good (well, it's neither well nor good but I split hairs here) but it got me to thinking about how whenever anything is a problem or goes wrong The Phone Company (who, after all is said and done is still a Monopoly) just blames it on The Breakup.

I don't think this is bad -- actually, I quite envy this ability, and thought I'd start practicing it in my everyday life.  After all, I've had breakups of my own, albeit mostly in the far past.  But time hasn't stopped TPC (The Phone Company, in homage to The President's Analyst) from continuing to use that excuse.  After all, a breakup is a breakup, and time doesn't wound all heels.

"Oh, sorry boss, but that report isn't ready yet.  Yes, I know it was due today but...  well, you remember that I'm divorced from my first wife.  Yep, fourteen years ago, and my life hasn't been quite the same since.  I just can't find out where she put those pictures.  And what the heck books did she take with her?"

"Honey, I'd really like to get you that new oven but there's a problem.  Do you remember me telling you about how my mom made me clean my room and throw away all my comic books?  Well, those would have been worth a fortune today, and we would have been able to afford nearly anything.  Unfortunately, the only ones she let me keep are my Mad Magazines, which aren't worth the paper they're printed on, particularly since she made me keep them in the garage where they got rained on when the roof leaked and now you can't get most of the pages apart.  Sorry."

"I really apologize, but I'm finding it real difficult to get my phone bill paid on time.  It's that darn separation I had from my first job -- I was working as a dishwasher, and the summer ended and they let me go, but I've never really gotten over it.  I keep thinking there was something I could have done.  The thing of it is, they called me on the phone and let me know.  So now whenever I think of the phone, I think about that first job and, well, I just want to put off having anything to do with it.  But you understand, right?"

Right.

Crowe Wins Amazing Feet

"Gladiator star Russell Crowe has picked up another major award - a week before the prestigious Oscars ceremony. The Epson Salt Industry Council awarded Crowe their award for Best Feet In A Film after seeing them in the Roman epic."IMDB, March 20, 2001

This is a terrific disappointment to me.  While I had been no huge fan of Cast Away, I really thought Tom Hanks' foot performance was tremendous.  The hardships those feet faced, the tremendous adversity they overcome, well, they were clearly the best feet this year (I'm also told there were no stunt feet used in the making of that film -- Hanks took over six months off between filming the opening and closing scenes so his feet could grow the required calluses).

Once again, politics has raised its ugly head when it comes to the ESIC (Epson Salt Industry Council).  Who can forget last year's stunning upset of Joseph Finnes's stocking clad feet from Shakesphere in Love again snatching victory away from Tom Hanks' Army booted appendices in Private Ryan?  It was obviously Miramax's shameless ad campaign right before the awards that erased all thoughts from the Council's mind of the earlier, much better performance.  "Feet to die for" indeed.

I'm not sure I'm even going to bother watching the ESIC awards next year (the fact they are only telecast on public access channel 57 does nothing but reinforce my determination to avoid them).  If Best Feet in a Film (along with Best Supporting Heinie in a Musical or Variety Film, won by J-Lo now three years running) continue to be treated like a popularity contest, then what's the point?  I know for a fact there are much better performances by feet and heinies in many films that were overlooked by Council voters.  

Don't be fooled by that golden statue -- the true test is time, and I'm sure decades from now we'll all think back over the year 2000 and Tom's feet will stand clearly in our minds.

12 Weeks to a Different Body

Week 1, Day 1: Men's Magazine has article on how to improve body in 12 weeks.  Ah, just the ticket.  I'll get in shape for summer and finally lose that weight.  Good New Year resolution.

Week 1, Day 2: The article is very interesting.  It has a number of different options I need to consider.  Just exactly what body type am I?  And what type do I want to be?  I don't know if I need to look like Arnold, but I'm not exactly happy with looking like Benny Hill.  There must be a happy medium.

Week 1, Day 3: It looks as though I'll need to buy some different food.  No where on the diet plans are there any calls for shoestring potatoes, or ho-hos, which is apparently all we have in our cupboards right now.  I hadn't realized up until now that there was a diet component involved.  I don't mind exercising -- but if I do all this exercise why do I have to watch what I eat?  I'll get to the store tomorrow and buy some of the stuff they recommend.

Week 1, Day 5: I didn't get to the store until today, and then I was so tired from shopping I just came home and watched some TV.  I'll get started tomorrow.

Week 2, Day 1: No sense trying to start something at the end of the week.  Now it's a clean slate, I have all the food I need for the diet (although there seems to be an alarming lack of protein in the recommended food substances) and I'm raring to go.  Luckily I still have all those weights from when I was in shape during my college days.  I'll drag them out of the garage and get cracking!

Week 3, Day 1: I'm just about able to walk without too much pain now.  Getting those weights in the house nearly killed me.  I won't be able to start the exercise program just yet, but I'll start on the diet stuff now that I'm not feeling so sorry for myself that all I could do was lay around and eat ho-hos and shoestring potatoes.

Week 4, Day 3: I had so little energy from all that salad stuff it was all I could do to make it through the day.  I've decided I'll need to eat a little more carbs than they recommend if I'm to keep up on the exercise regime -- shoestring potatoes and ho-hos seem like just the trick.  But that's okay -- they were probably talking about someone who didn't have quite the same metabolism as I have.

Week 5, Day 1: Today I start the exercises.  They seem pretty easy.  Too easy for me, I can take a lot more.  I realize this article was written for people not used to lifting weights, like I did back in college.  I do a lot more without much effort.

Week 7, Day 2: I'm just about able to move without too much pain now.  Obviously I overdid it slightly when I was lifting those weights.  My college days, after all, were a few decades ago.  It's clear that I need to take it easy.  In the meantime, we're all out of ho-hos and shoestring potatoes, so I'll need to go to the store.

Week 9, Day 3: I'm thinking now that I really only need to lift weights about once a week.  The article was probably written for someone who doesn't have to work all day at a desk like I do.  That can really wear you out, and about the only time I have the energy to do this stuff is on the weekend. 

Week 10, Day 6: I'm reading the article again, and I'm not sure it was meant for me at all.  They keep talking about things like "renewed vitality" and "dedicated commitment" and none of these things make any sense.  

Week 12, Day 7: After twelve weeks my goal has been reached.  I have a completely different body -- apparently I've put on a great deal of muscle, so much that my shirts no longer fit me.  My pants don't either, so I guess my legs have gotten much larger with all those trips to the store for shoestring potatoes and ho-hos.  The only problem I have now is that going to the store wears me out so much that I need to rest on the couch the rest of the day and watch TV.  But I do think it was worth it (note to self: cancel subscription to Men's Magazine).

Windmills of my Mind

Reality of Temptation

Clueless Iomega