Water

water

My trip to New Zealand was all about water.   Without water, we would all die of thirst.   But don’t try to grab it with the tense hand; it will laugh at you with disdain. It is a chameleon that takes many forms and shapes, always moving. Only a fool tries to control it.  Water runs fast.  Water can calm — the gentle brook, and then belittle you with a ocean’s tsunami, swallowing you whole.  Water is sex and religion.   Sweet wetness and holy baptism.  Water is risk.   Water is mysterious and powerful, like a woman.

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Posted in Life in General | Tagged , , | 12 Comments

The Blurry Photo of J

Call me old-fashioned, but I was convinced that she would be the first to crack. Blokes like myself believe women are the sentimental creatures, so I was surprised that, on my arrival at LAX, the first text I received from her read simply, “Going camping with my son for two days.”

Camping in NZ also means “non internet access,” so this also meant that our communication channels were down. So, on this historic day when President Obama was sworn in as President, barriers fell throughout the land. We now have our first two-term African-American President. Gay rights were mentioned in an inaugural speech. And — for the first time ever, smashing centuries of gender roles — a man cracked first, turning to his blog, sentimentality in his heart, while the woman went camping in the wild, a pocketknife in her purse. Who’s the weaker sex? My heart sinks faster than that US Navy landing craft that was swamped by a wave near Paekakariki, NZ ’s during that infamous tragedy in June 1943.

J and I first went camping after Christmas. Her son stayed with his father. I had not gone camping since I was twelve years old. As an adult, I found it fun, but exhausting. One of my Facebook friends touted camping as “sexy.” Uh, no. But if you get your kicks sleeping in cramped tents without bathrooms, who am I to question your alternative lifestyle?

I’m surprised that I enjoyed it as much as I did. The scenery certainly helped. It was amazing to wake up in the morning and look at greenery so lush you felt like you just rented a room in the Hobbit’s Shire.

Still, after a week sleeping on an air mattress, I suggested (well, insisted) that we spend two nights in a motel in Napier, a Hawkes’ Bay town famous for its art deco architecture.

Our room in Napier — at the appropriately named Art Deco Motel — was nothing fancy; it was a motel room that looked out into a parking lot. But after a week camping, it felt like the Four Seasons. We each took a long hot shower. It was the best shower of my life. J prepared lunch in the motel kitchenette, using leftovers in the cooler or the “chilly bin” as called by the Kiwis. J was wearing a towel from the bathroom, but as she fried up some eggs, the white cotton towel slipped off, sliding to the carpeted floor.

I took a photo of her with my iPhone.

In the photo, J was in the shadows, the light in the background flowing in from the large window leading to the patio. I fiddled around with some apps on my iphone until the subject was anonymous. I created a blurry photo of a naked, curvy, beautiful woman standing in front of a burst of light.

“Can I put this on Instagram?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said. “It’s your artwork.”

Wow. My artwork?! How can you not fall for a woman who considers your dopey and salacious photo of her losing her towel while frying some eggs as “artwork?”

The next day, she changed my mind.

“I forgot about my mother.” she said. She’s looking at your instagram feed.”

It’s a fine line between sharing and keeping things private.

“Can you take it down before she sees it?” she asked.

I deleted it from Instagram. And Flickr. And Facebook.

I’m in Los Angeles now. For now. It’s too bad that I can’t reach J. I want to tell her about my night in Melbourne, Australia. I met two Aussie bloggers and we went to a famous local restaurant.

Melbourne is a world-class city with culture and excitement. There are hipsters drinking coffee in converted warehouse districts. The Kapiti Coast of New Zealand — where J lives — is sleepyville. Bars close early. Local excitement is a sheep shearing and bringing home some fish and chips. But never have I seen so much greenery. And as a Pisces, I am drawn to the oceans and rivers and lakes. And then, there is J herself. She is in New Zealand.

I slide my finger along the screen of my iphone, touching the blurred photo of J. The one from the motel. The one that I deleted. It is a tame photo. J is shadowy and heavily filtered. But I understand why she asked me to delete it from public view. I know and adore every curve of her body, even in the dark. And that is very obvious to anyone looking at this blurry photo, despite my attempts to hide it.

Posted in Life in General, Men and Women | Tagged , , | 44 Comments

Summer Love

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Back when I attended my Jewish sleep-away camp, the summer ended with a big dance. It was on the last weekend of August, right before we all went back to our predictable middle-class lives in Queens, Brooklyn, Westchester, New Jersey, and Long Island, where we would focus on our schoolwork and prepare ourselves for a scholarship to a fancy college.  Fall, Winter, and Spring were times of seriousness.  It was only during the summer that we allowed ourselves to paddle a canoe or initiate”panty raids” on the girls’ bunks.

Having a dance as a camp season finale made no sense to a ten year old boy who had no interest in dancing, or the opposite sex.   The girls danced by themselves while the boys got sugar drunk on Dixie cups of purple punch.

One year,  on my seventh year as a camper, I asked Tammy to the dance, but just my luck — she ended up in the infirmity with the flu, so I spent most of the evening standing outside her window chatting with her about science fiction movies, until one of the nurses shooed me away.  I took off to the social hall, relieved to not have missed the final dance.  After so many years at this camp, the “last song” of the summer had grown in meaning to me.  It was always the same — “See You in September,” originally sung by the Tempos in 1959, but this was the latter version, covered by The Happenings in 1966.  The sappy song must have been a tradition for an earlier generation, because all of the counselors and older staff members would grab a partner and do a “slow dance.”

It never occurred to me as a camper that this “last dance” was not for the campers at all, but for the staff — many who were returning back to school or work, and had experienced summer love for the first time.

Summer love creates all sorts of complications.   Some counselors already had boyfriends and girlfriends back at home.  Some of the staff members were international visitors from faraway places like Ireland.   And not even Jewish.

So how did these summer romances turn out?   Most of them fizzled out.  Some tried to reproduce the lake-side romance in the Catskills back in Brooklyn, but it didn’t have the same vibe on Ocean Parkway.   The city can be romantic and mysterious, but it has a different soundtrack, more funky than mellow.

Tammy, the girl who was supposed to be my date for the final dance, ended up dating one of the counselors — a college boy — much to the dismay of her parents.   They are a summer romance success story, married for decades with children who now go to sleep-away camp.

Over the last month, while most of you have been freezing during the winter months, I have been on Summer Vacation in New Zealand.  It is Summer here.   The kids are off from school.  The beaches are full.  Everyone is eating ice cream.

But Fall is close.   Today there was a “back to school” commercial on the “telly.”  School clothes at 40% at The Warehouse, New Zealand’s equivalent of Target.

With summer ending, there is a call to seriousness.   It’s time for me to return to the States.   The vacation is over.    I’ve found a summer love here in New Zealand.   I’ve had a life-changing experience.

Where does it go from here? I don’t know.  It is hard to carry a summer love into the Fall, especially when you live on different continents.   For now, I have a plane to catch tomorrow, and I want my last dance with Juli.

Posted in Life in General | Tagged , | 70 Comments

The Railway Station at Paekakariki

New Zealand

After lunch at her Mexican restaurant, Marianne dropped me off at the train station at Paekakariki.  I had an hour to kill before the train for Paraparaumu arrived, so I wandered around the tiny town’s Main Street, which took me all of ten minutes.

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I walked over to the railway station, which while unassuming, consisting of a few wooden shacks on a 1/3 of a city block, is important to the city’s history.

In 1886 the Wellington and Manawatu Railway Company’s line from Wellington to Longburn was completed, and Paekakariki became an important stop on the journey. In 1908, the line was incorporated into the national network of the New Zealand Railways Department and became part of the North Island Main Trunk linking Wellington and Auckland, the North Island’s most important line.

During World War 2, Paekakariki also served as a major base for US Marines fighting in the Pacific, with over 20,000 Americans stationed here.

Paekakariki’s steep surrounding hills proved suitable terrain for marching and mortar practice, whilst its beaches were used to stage amphibian invasions. They were the scene of an unfortunate tragedy in June 1943 when a landing craft was swamped by a wave during a nighttime training exercise. Nine men drowned in the heavy surf according to official figures; local rumor put the toll higher. The incident was never reported at the time due to wartime censorship provisions.

I was reading about Paekakariki’s history on my iPhone, biding my time, when I noticed an open door in one of the side buildings.  I shyly walked over and looked into what seemed to be a dusty old used bookstore jam-filled with literature.  The location seemed so bizarre and incongruous.  While I can understand a Barnes and Noble at Grand Central Station, how could this used bookstore do any sort of business in the middle of nowhere, hidden in Paekakariki, population 1600, a town name which in Māori means “perching place of the kakariki (green parrot).”

Inside the bookstore, a man in his sixties, a Bohemian with long white hair, was standing on a ladder, struggling to hang a framed photo on the wall.

“Good.  You’re tall,” he said.  ”You can help me.”

“Sure,” I said, and entered the shop. I climbed onto the ladder and tried to match up the wired back of the frame with the nail on the wall.

“A little to the right,” he directed me.   “To the left. Perfect.”

I climbed off the ladder and he pointed at the sepia-toned photo.  It was of some waterfall.  He told me it was an original photo taken by some famous New Zealand naturalist, the Ansel Adams of the country.

“Are you looking for a specific book today?” he asked, changing the subject.

“To tell you the truth, I’m just stumbling by. I was waiting for the train when I saw you were open. I was surprised to find such a cool bookstore in the middle of the train station.”

“Grand, isn’t it? Where are you from?”

“From the States. I was born in New York.”

“That’s one place I want to visit one day. You liking New Zealand?”

There was a spark in his voice. Many Kiwis seemed quite reserved, but the bookstore owner seemed impish and playful.

“It’s beautiful in New Zealand,” I answered.

“Listen, as a thank-you for hanging up my photo, I’m going to give you one of my books. What do you prefer? Fiction or poetry?”

Before I could answer, he had analyzed me.

“You seem like a fiction person. I’ll give you one of my novels.”

He grabbed one of his own books from a shelf. It was titled Unlevel Crossings. I learned more about my new acquaintance. His name was Michael O’Leary.

Michael O’Leary is a New Zealand publisher, poet, novelist, performer, and bookshop proprietor. He publishes under the imprint Earl of Seacliff Art Workshop, which he founded in 1984. He runs a bookshop, Kakariki Books, from the Paekakariki Railway Station.

Born in Auckland, he was educated at the Universities of Auckland and Otago. He wrote his master’s thesis on the history of small presses in New Zealand. He is the author of Alternative Small Press Publishing in New Zealand. He completed a PhD in women’s studies at Victoria University of Wellington on the ‘Social and Literary Constraints on Women Writers in New Zealand 1945 to 1970′.

O’Leary’s novels and poetry explore his Māori (Te Arawa)– Irish Catholic heritage. Under the Earl of Seacliff Art Workshop imprint he has published work by a range of writers, both alternative and mainstream, including: Raewyn Alexander, Colin Lloyd Amery, Sandra Bell, John Pule, Greg O’Brien, David Eggleton, and others.

O’Leary is a trustee for the Poetry Archive of New Zealand Aotearoa, a charitable trust dedicated to archiving, collecting and promoting New Zealand poetry.

“Thank you for the book,” I told the writer/publisher/bookstore owner. “I’ll read it on the plane home.”

The warning bell of the approaching train rang at the train crossing.

“What’s your name?” he asked, the clang of the metal wheels of the train from Wellington growing louder.

“Neil.”

“Nice meeting you Neil. And what brings you to New Zealand in the first place? A woman?”

“How did you know?”

“It’s always a woman.”

I said goodbye. I rode the train back to Paraparaumu.  Juli picked me up and I took this photo of her for Instagram.

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Posted in Life in General | Tagged , | 17 Comments

The Seventh Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert!

Welcome to the The 2012 Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert!  It is my honor to be with you here for the seventh year of this concert.

It’s been a tough year for many of us.   May the power of song help you remember the goodness, peace, and joy of your lives!

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YouTube Preview Image“Christmas in Mississippi” by Marty Long of Don’t Take the Repeats (song written by Steve Deaton and sound engineered by Kevin Long)

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YouTube Preview Image“Holly Jolly Christmas” by Vikki of Up Popped a Fox and her kids

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YouTube Preview Image“Sevivon” by M of Psychotoddler and the Moshe Skier Band

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YouTube Preview Image“Christmas is Here” by Jenny Mae of Oh, Jenny Mae and her daughter

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Merry Hedgehog
photo by Veronica of Compost Studios

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YouTube Preview Image“The Real Christmas Story” read by Suebob of Suebob’s Awesome Brain

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YouTube Preview Image“Ill Be Home for Christmas” by Erin Lane of A Parenting Production

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YouTube Preview Image“A New Deal for Christmas” from the musical, Annie by Danny Miller and his daughter and son, Leah and Charlie

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YouTube Preview Image“Winter Wonderland” by Heather of Minivan Momma

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photo by Kim of Live From the 205

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YouTube Preview Image“I’m Happiest at Christmas” by Noel Katz of There’s Gotta Be a Song

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YouTube Preview Image“Amy’s Christmas Poem: How to Mistletoe” by Amy Turn Sharp

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YouTube Preview Image“Jingle Bells” by Tracy of Sellabit Mom and her family

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YouTube Preview Image“It’s Darlin’ (Christmas is Coming)” by Erin of Swonderland

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Christmas Selfie © SHaggerty 2012 W-1
photo by Suzanne of 24 at Heart

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Mi Yimalel Remix 1 (of Traditional Hanukkah song) by M of Psychotoddler and the Moshe Skier Band

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Home for the Holidays” by The Suniverse

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YouTube Preview Image“Peajaye, the Holiday Fairy” by Peajaye

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photo by Danny Miller

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YouTube Preview Image“Silent Night” by Bridget of The Ivey League

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YouTube Preview Image“Lullay Lullay” by Cindy of Strawberries Here

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YouTube Preview Image“Blue Christmas” by Karl of Secondhand Karl

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YouTube Preview Image“The Christians and the Pagans” by Alexis of  Wave the Stick

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photo by Pam of Outside Voice

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YouTube Preview Image“Gabriel’s Message” by Gwen of Left Coast Mama and her son, Aidan

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YouTube Preview Image“The Twelve Days of Christmas” by Toni of A Daily Dose of Toni and the Singing Bloggers

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YouTube Preview Image“Baby, It’s Cold Outside” by Kate of The Big Piece of Cake

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YouTube Preview Image“I’ll Be Home for Christmas” by Ms. Sizzle of Sizzle Says

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YouTube Preview Image“Last Christmas” by Neil of Citizen of the Month

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http://instagr.am/p/RvW0HhkOR6/
photo by Tanis of The Redneck Mommy

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YouTube Preview Image“Angels We Have Heard Up High” by Beta Dad

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YouTube Preview Image“You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” by Fadra of All Things Fadra

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YouTube Preview Image“Happy Just Bumming Around – a Kiwi Christmas” by The Travesties with Juli Ryan of Wellington Road

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YouTube Preview Image“White Christmas” by Charlotte of Monstergirlee

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photo of the Munich Marienplatz Christmas Market by Martin of Deutschland uber Elvis

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YouTube Preview Image“Jingle Bells” by Maggie of Magpie Musing and family

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YouTube Preview Image“Oh Holy Night” by Amiryrah of 4 Hats and Frugal

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YouTube Preview Image“Merry Christmas, Darlin’ by Laurie of Laurie Writes

YouTube Preview Image“A Christmas Medley” by Jenn of Breed ‘Em and Weep

Posted in Blogging and the Internet, Music | Tagged , , , | 45 Comments

Before the Trip

This Monday, I fly out of Los Angeles to Wellington, New Zealand.  I thought tonight would be a good time for a quick recap of my recent life, something akin to those old-fashioned Christmas cards where the family blabs about Little Joey’s good grades in school.

My shoulder –

My mother’s favorite saying is, “If you have your health, you have everything.” Over the last few months, I had this pain in my shoulder. After my MRI, it turned out NOT to be a rotator cuff issue. All I know is that it mostly healed, and rarely bothers me anymore. Sometimes, if it rains, my shoulder feels creaky again, so maybe the final diagnosis is: getting old.

But I’m happy it has healed.  For awhile, the pain was so intense, the simple act of putting on a sweatshirt would cause tears to roll down my cheeks.

My mother is wise with her adage.  We sometimes forget that our biggest privilege is that we were born healthy. This shoulder pain has opened my eyes to those who have to deal with pain on a daily basis.  I commend anyone able to rise above their physical pain and sbe able to be decent to others.  There were days recently I just wanted to say “F-you” to everyone I met in the street.

My holiday wish for you is not that you get that big “book deal” you so desperately want.  I wish you good health. Believe me, it is worth more than you think.

Writing –

If you know me well enough, you know I’ve been working on this ONE screenplay forever. I finished it this month. It was a long torturous experience. Some day, I’ll tell you more; there are funny stories involved. But not now.

I have someone shopping it around in January. Keep your fingers crossed. I need some money. But I am also trying to be realistic. If you think it is difficult to sell a book, the odds of getting a movie made are the equivalent of winning the Powerball.

I love blogging, and have no intention of ever quitting, but I have slowed down a bit over the last few months. I’m still trying to find my place in the “blogging world.” I’m not a parent blogger.  I’m not a social media expert.  What am I?    But I stay sane by keeping to the same path that I took from day one, ” Act as if your voice counts, treat others as if their voices count, but always remind everyone that we mostly sit around in our underwear.”

Sophia –

Oy. I am stumped on how to discuss the longest and most neurotic separation and divorce in the history of man.  My fantasy was once this — Sophia and I would toast each other in a sophisticated manner, like Nick and Nora in The Thin Man, wishing each other the best of luck in the future.

Uh, yeah.

If I honestly told you some of the nasty names we have called each other over the last month, you would unfollow me from Facebook immediately. I have started the process of moving my books and clothes into a storage facility, and things have not been pretty. So many of the cliches that the two of us used to laugh at while watching “All My Children” together have become SCARY REAL.  The slamming doors. The eavesdropping.  The yelling of “YOU RUINED MY LIFE.”  The main difference between the characters on All My Children and us is that soap operas characters are so filthy rich that they never fight about money.

Normally, couples don’t like to show their dirty laundry online, but I’ve been lucky to have other divorced or divorcing friends online who have told me one thing — this is all normal.  It was unrealistic for me to expect us to handle this like fictional couples in a brightly-lit romantic comedy.  I’m looking forward to a time when Sophia and I can deal with each other in a more uplifting way again — as a divorced couple.

Juli in New Zealand –

I am going to visit my friend Juli for Christmas and New Year’s. She is a good friend. We met through blogging. We have chatted a lot over the last two years. We have a lot in common. She is dealing with her own divorce.  She is a woman. I am a man. So, yes, I’ll admit there is that element to this story. What this means is still unclear. We have never met in real life.  So, this adventure is a big one.

For those of you curious for more details, closely watch my Instagram for hidden symbols. Photos of bonfires — hot time.  Photos of the ocean — I’m drowning.

Posted in Life in General | Tagged | 35 Comments

The Queen Mary

I’m going to utter the one statement that will single-handedly ruin my career in the media business: I’m getting old. I’m not just talking about physical age, but in personal interests: I’m more interested in the Queen Mary than the latest ship from Disney.

Last night, I was watching the awful Lifetime movie, Liz and Dick, the “story” of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, and trying to decipher why the movie was so bad.  Was it the poor casting? The stunted dialogue? The slow direction? Then it hit me — I was expecting a movie about Elizabeth Taylor when the film was about Lindsay Lohan playing Elizabeth Taylor. This was not a secret; the producers were open about the fact.  It was advertised as “Lindsay Lohan IS Elizabeth Taylor.”  The film was created for an audience obsessed with the trainwreck exploits of Lindsay Lohan. And since my fascination over Lindsay Lohan runs shallow, I found the movie dull.

Modern consumer culture is hard on the past. Selling requires “the new.” If everyone kept driving their 1995 Honda Civic until it died, the auto industry would collapse.  We are taught from an early age to convince our peers that an old car is an embarrassment to our friendship.  This consumer culture has a lot to do with the persistent racism and sexism in our society, since we become friends with those who can afford the same status class car, or send their kids to the same private school.

It was funny to see so many bloggers wringing their hands last week over the blatant consumerism of Black Friday, especially the mocking of all the ugly fat Americans waiting in line for hours outside Best Buy to buy a cheap Microsoft Tablet.  WE are the media now, obsessed with the new — even the Betas and Updates!  We make our money hawking products in sponsored posts!  If anything, we should pat ourselves on our backs for having the “influence” to convince our poorer friends to wait in line at Best Buy for a cheap tablet, just so they can become as cool as us!   The point of this rambling post is not to knock consumerism. I am as guilty as you in buying into the system. I am even PISSED that Sophia now has an iPhone5 while I am stuck taking photos with my Iphone4.

That said, I hope our love for the new over the old — the Lindsay Lohans over the Elizabeth Taylors, the iPhone5s over the iPhone4s, the under 30 over the over 30. the beauty of youth over the glamour of maturity, doesn’t turn us AGAINST that which isn’t easily commodified.

Sure, the Queen Mary, docked in Long Beach, CA, is a mediocre tourist attraction, a pseudo museum/hotel/brunch spot. It tries to be relevant, but the old ship is more like your Aunt Bessie who thinks she is a teenager because she watches The Voice. But I love the old. The old have stories.

I love old cars, old airplanes, old planes, old sewing machine, and old people. I’m getting older by the second, and I have no choice. I can feel my own connection to modern culture ossifying, as I find more joy in listening to songs of my youth rather than the latest hit. Sure, I fake my interest in Lindsay Lohan, because she is what we discuss.

But I’m more interested in Elizabeth Taylor.

Posted in Life in General | Tagged , , | 32 Comments

Announcing the Seventh Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert!

I’m going to be honest with you.  I woke up this morning wondering if the time has come to stop celebrating the unity of mankind (OK, peoplekind… damn feminists).

2012 has given religion a bad name.   For many of us religion now means fundamentalism and fanaticism, repression and destruction, rather than good will towards men (I mean people).  From conflicts over the American election to fighting in the Middle East, even God has gotten bored with our stupidity.

And our online world is not helping our cause.  What is the blogging “mantra,” taught to us by every social media guru worth his salt:  Find your tribe!   Find your tribe!  Find your tribe!

Which raises the question:  why bother reaching out to anyone outside of your tribe if it is bad for business?  Why bother listening and learning from others when life is all about “broadcasting” your views to a select demographic of believers?

Luckily, my tiny corner of the blogosphere doesn’t think this way.   My blogosphere listens and learns.  We don’t judge a man (or woman) by his belief system, or the color of his (or her) skin, but by the quality of his (or her) inappropriate humor.  And kindness towards others.   It is plan that has worked well for me.  I’ve even learned to love Lutherans, a religious group that tends not to be very good with telling jokes.

Can Jew and Christian and Muslim, Atheist and Mormon, Black and White get along for once?  Should I cut the virtual red ribbon, marking the official announcement of the The Seventh Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert?

YES!

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Angela from Fluid Pudding performing in 2007

This year we celebrate:

Christmas (Christian)– December 25
Hanukkah (Jewish) — December 8-16
Kwanzaa — December 26-January 1
Hijra (Islam) — November 15
Bodhi Day (Buddhism) — December 8
Day of the Covenant (Baha’i) November 28
Diwali (Hindu) November 13
Winter Solstice — December 21
New Year’s Eve — January 1

The online concert this year will take place on December 15, 2012, right here on this blog.   And this year, the concert will be published directly from New Zealand! (see my last post)

It is time to hear YOU PERFORM!   Sign up in the comments today.

Concert FAQ:

1.  Create an audio file or a video file of you performing a holiday song.  If you need technical help, ask me.

2.  You must be performing in the audio or video.   Don’t cheat and have your cute kids doing all the work.

3.  You can sing, play an instrument, recite poetry, dance the Nutcracker, or create music on your iPhone.

4.  Once completed, you have the choice of posting it on your blog or YouTube and sending me the link, or emailing me the complete multimedia file.   Try to get me everything by Thursday, December 13, 2012, two days before the concert!  That gives you plenty of time to be creative.

5.  If you don’t want to sing a song, send me a holiday photo for concert decoration.  It could be of your tree, menorah, or plain ol’ winter solstice if you are a heathen.

6.  The comment section is the sign-up sheet.    By signing up, we can see who is performing what, so we can avoid having ten versions of “Frosty the Snowman.”

7.  Most importantly — don’t be intimidated if you can’t sing.    We like to laugh at you.

8.  Here are the past blockbuster concerts –

2006  2007  2008  2009  2010  2011

Join us in the longest-running holiday concert online – The Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert, now in it’s seventh season!

Posted in Blogging and the Internet | Tagged | 65 Comments

Call to Adventure

For years, I’ve been complaining about the superficial nature of online friendships, my boredom with trading quips about pop culture or the ubiquitous “liking” of each other’s drunken photos on Instagram?

Real friends look at each other. They interrupt each other as they speak. There are moment of silence. There are shared cups of coffee.

But there is a major obstacle to transforming many of favorite virtual friendships into real ones.

Distance.

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In the eighth grade, our class had a substitute English teacher. He was a strange guy, a former hippy and a black belt in karate. Rather than teaching us anything about grammar, he told us about the U.S. military-industrial complex and the importance of “bringing it down.” Most of us had no idea what he was talking about.

One afternoon, at the end of his class, the teacher took me aside.

“I notice you read a lot,” he said.

“Yeah, I like books,” I replied.

“I’m going to give you a book that will BLOW YOU AWAY. It is my favorite book.”

“OK.”

He handed me a hardcover copy of this bizarre fantasy novel that, on first glance, looked rather dumb. It involved imaginary characters in a world called Middle Earth. The book was called “The Hobbit.”

If you are a long-time reader of Citizen of the Month, you now understand why my grammar is stuck in the seventh grade. I never learned grammar in the eighth grade. I spent the year reading “The Lord of the Rings.”

The Hobbit follows Bilbo Baggins as he reluctantly takes a journey from safety into a world of dragons, adventure, war, and treasure.

The book taught me a lesson — everyone must take a journey into the unknown. It is the only way to gain maturity and wisdom. I learned this in the eighth grade, and promptly forgot the advice for decades, preferring to live in safety, like the home-loving Bilbo Baggins.

I fear adventure.  You never know what God has planned for you along the way — a storm, a romance, a shipwreck, or death by eating blowfish a an exotic restaurant. And if you dare raise your fist towards God, angrily shouting, “How could you do this to me?” He will just laugh at you and say, “Sorry, Charlie, but YOU planned your own trip. It was your choice. So get off my back.”

I fear choice.  But I’m trying to change.

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Every year, on the New Year, there are celebrations around the world, ringing in the new year, starting with the first time zone, in New Zealand.   New Zealand is the beautiful, mystical country where they filmed The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings.

Next month, like Bilbo Baggins, I will be making a journey.  I will be travelling to New Zealand to visit my good online friend, Juli, and share a cup of coffee.

So, this year, the Seventh Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert will be broadcast from NEW ZEALAND!

The concert sign-up sheet — later in the week.

Update:  Today, Juli tried to dissuade me from taking my big adventure with this dire warning.

“There are no bagels in New Zealand,” she said.

Ha!  Like that old trick would stop me.   I’m not a sucker.  I have a secret weapon called “Google.”  – Brooklyn Bread and Bagels, Wellington, New Zealand.

Posted in Life in General | Tagged , , , | 22 Comments

Explaining Halloween to Foreigners

I was sitting on a bench in Los Angeles when I saw two college girls walking down the street.   Why not take an instagram photo of them?   As I pressed the button to the cameraphone, I saw one of the girls looking directly at me.

“Aw, crap. Caught,” I thought.

But it wasn’t what I thought.   They approached me, singling me out as a potential victim.

“Hello,” said one of the girls in broken English. “We are ESL students from Japan. Our assignment is to find an American person on the street and ask him questions about the American holiday of Halloween. Can we impose on your time and ask you questions?”

“Sure!” I answered, always a strong believer in helping strangers in a strange land.

They bowed to me, then giggled.  I was touched, and confused.

The more extroverted girl, with long brown hair and large glasses, stepped forward.  She was holding a piece of paper in her hand.  It was her homework sheet.   On the sheet were Halloween terms they needed to learn.

“What is Trick or Treat?” she asked, pointing at question #1.

I was frankly surprised that these girls were so clueless about Halloween. Doesn’t the world watch Charlie Brown?

Trick or Treat.  How was I suppose to explain Trick or Treat to two girls with a limited knowledge of English?

“Well, you know kids go house to house on Halloween and get candy, right?” I asked.

“Yes,” said the extroverted girl. “You get candy on Halloween.”

Perfect.  I was half way there.

“The candy is the “treat.” I said.   “But if the person doesn’t give a treat, then you are allowed to do a “trick.”"

“Trick?”

“It’s like a joke.   If you don’t get any candy — the treat — then  you are allowed to do something like put toilet paper all around the person’s car — the trick.  You understand?”

The two girls exchanged confused glances, not getting the toilet paper reference.

“It’s an either or thing.    If there’s no candy for kid… then the kid can do something back.”

“Out of anger?”

“Well, it’s not really anger.”

“Revenge?”

“OK, somewhat…”

“So if no candy, the child shoots person with gun?”

“No. No!  Not so extreme!” I insisted.

Is this how the world views America — shooting each other over candy?

“Just a funny trick,” I continued.   “Like toilet paper on the car! Understand?”

They didn’t understand.  I gave up.

“Let’s go on to the next one,” I suggested.

It was Jack O’Lantern.

OK, Jack O’ Lantern.   This would be easier.  And less violent.

“Do you know a pumpkin?” I asked the girls.

“Pump it?” asked the shy girl, the first and only time she spoke during the entire conversation.

“No.  A pumpkin?  The big orange thing.  The vegetable.  It grows in a pumpkin patch.  Like on a farm.  Like in Charlie Brown.   Big.  Orange.”

“Oh, yes.  Big Orange Vegetable.  Pumpkin.” said the extrovert.  ”That’s Jack o’Lantern?”

“Not exactly.   The Jack o’ Lantern is what you make from the pumpkin.  The face.”

“The face?”

I pointed at my face.

“People make a face on the pumpkin.” I said.   “With a knife.  They cut out a face with a knife.”

The girls looked horrified.

“They cut people’s face with knives?”

“No. They cut the face out of the pumpkin.”

I made a cutting motion with my hand to better explain things. They moved a foot away, as if I was brandishing a samurai sword.

“How many more questions do you have?” I asked, feeling hopeless.

“Just one more,” said the extroverted Japanese girl. “Superstition.”

“Ah, yes. Superstition. Superstition is when people believe things that are not true.”

No reaction.

“Every culture has superstitions. In Japan, do you avoid walking under ladders or black cats?”

Nothing.

“I know there are ghosts in Japan.  I’ve seen Japanese movies about ghosts.”

“Yes, ghosts in Japan!”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“No.”

“But some people do. That is superstition.”

“Superstition is ghosts.”

“Well, it can be.   But more than just ghosts.  Could be zombies, too.”

“So, all Dead People?  On Halloween, Americans dress up like dead people.”

I was getting bored with the conversation.

“Yes. Exactly,” I said.  ”We dress like dead people.”

I sent the girls back to their ESL class, clutching their notes,  thinking that in America, the holiday of Halloween means dressing up as dead people, stabbing each other in the face with knives, and shooting those who don’t give you candy.

Happy Halloween!

Posted in Los Angeles | Tagged | 10 Comments