garage chair wisdom or Buddha Teacher Gil meets Bill

Good Morning,

It is not my intent to be "Debbie Downer" here or to solicit sympathy but rather to offer some perspective. Every time I turn on the news or pick up the paper we are bombarded with the message that it's (i.e. everything's) getting worse.

i've been reassuring myself with the thought that we now have a man of great integrity in power working to make things better.

in the last couple days it has also become ultimately clear to me that this declining world is the world of finances, lifestyle, and livelihood.

it is NOT the better part of life itself...our friendships, our families... being awake to feel things. The past couple months my Fishing Buddy Bill's cancer has taken a turn for the worse.

Bill has reached the tipping point--"the level at which the momentum for change becomes unstoppable."

or

the point at which death has taken over and announced it's going to land this body/plane on autopilot!...where all of those around you who have been dancing around the issue of death have to STOP as some significant event points out the pink elephant in the room (e.g. the doctor recommends Hospice).

it's harder to see Bill now...visually, his 210lbs. has dwindled down to an unstrapping 140. his gaunt and angular face...without his glasses it's like when you see a grandparent without glasses. he's suddenly more vulnerable but yet he's less character more of a whole person who might have existed in the world outside of your Sunday visits...and then there's Bill's return to nudity. (another alarming consequence of prostate pain and too tight underwear).

this weekend i consulted with Buddha teacher Gil about this (death not the underwear). he said, "the true nature of all things is emptiness and this emptiness allows happiness to bubble up."

all this did was make me think how my stomach was pretty empty before lunch and in this emptiness i think i should take Beano so gas doesn't bubble up.

i knew Bill would appreciate my pragmatism and what he really meant was to appreciate Bill while he is still here.

so...

here are some of my favorite Bill sayings- maybe you can work them into your day.

situation #1

you receive notice that your company is no longer matching your 401k...

"guess that’s one of them oh wells"

situation #2

a doctor diagnoses you with cancer

"say what now?"

situation #3

when answering [your] phone

"this is Bill..."

when calling me on the phone...

"what do ya say good-lookin?"

(hey no laughing i'm going to miss that one!)

situation #4

words for any occasion...

"Eggs over medium, bacon, potata...and all right give me some grits"

"That’s a cam shaft.

…you know what yous doin with that?" (the welder)

see above photo of my handiwork!

situaton #5

when you've gone on longer than you've intended

"guess I’d better let you get back to what you was doin"


Happy Monday,

Amanda
(it's a picture displayer!)

bullies are no longer "in"

Good Morning,

It's President's Day!

I like to spend the day at home on my couch in my Cuddle wrap and top hat counting my Benjamins. i've been saving up you see to buy myself a helper monkey.

no really, you may think this sounds extreme but i think this is what some people must think when they look at me. I had a very alarming moment this weekend when I pulled up to my apartment after being at the laundromat.

it was late. dark. about 7:30pm when a gray/silver BMW wagon pulled up in the spot next to me. I was listening to my iPod and being mindful of (i.e. wrestling with) my laundry. i use a little white wheelie cart, the kind you perhaps see homeless people use, to facilitate the trip up the concrete sidewalk and into my apartment. This is not my favorite task but I've grown to appreciate it like a trail hiker who enjoys the familiar challenges of a well worn path.

I was enjoying the crisp cool...not COLD... pleasures of a winter evening. the stars...the full moon, the sting of a deep breath opening the lungs...when the night silence was so harshly pierced with the LOUD chattering of voices. My upstairs neighbor and her companion friend were stepping out of their car.

The short one, my neighbor held a crook-handled cane and seemed surprised to see me.

"Oh" she startled as she slammed her car door. "Can I help you?"

I smiled. Partly because I like my neighbor and partly out of habit...

Her eyes were wide. Her gaze darting and unsteady. There was the unmistakable smell of restaurant leftovers drifting out the Styrofoam box in her hand... and a hint of vinyl booth seat still clinging to her skinny jeans.

I hesitated feeling a little tight and tired from all the days efforts.

"okay, i guess i could use a little help."

we stood trying to make that awkward conversation that passes between neighbors who've never officially met. The world felt new, eerie kind of different and good as the willingness of two opposing personalities began to mesh...

"Hey look! LOOK!" My neighbor's companion had wandered up the walk and positioned herself atop a step. She pointed IT"S TWO GIMPS! You guys are the two gimps living here in the same building!

What kind of person says this? calling a person who does not walk fluidly "a gimp" i think is the social equivalent of pooping in public and calling your neighbor in to look at it.

intellectually i understood this but in my core...

my 30lbs. laundry bag suddenly became light as air as i sunk into the dirt. i grasped the nylon cord and cinched it tight. there's no way you're getting to carry my bag in lady!

the lady jammed her hands in her pockets and jumped down from the step. "I'm Dawn. This is Fona she has social anxiety but she lives above you so you should say hi to her."

i looked to my neighbor. she nodded vigorously in support. she giggled back "mother f--ker what you sayin?"

"oh. that's hard," i said. "i'm sorry."

Dawn walked over and playfully pushed my neighbor in the shoulder. She turned to me.

"Give me that bag. Now I'm going to help you!"

"oh no," I flitted and fluttered my hands. it's really not that heavy. i got it."

She grabbed my bag and hoisted it over her shoulder. (i have a general rule in life. never mess with someone in a leather jacket who may have been drinking).

i just stood very unBuddha like and smiled a little to myself when I thought I saw her back buckle a little.

"OH MY GOD WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN HERE?"

"laundry." (and a dead horse)

Maybe it was because she'd been drinking, maybe it was because she had very squinty pale blue eyes she couldn't open very big, maybe it's because her stylist has used the wrong kind of relaxer on her curly mess of hair...

but i could not hate her. just felt certain that there needs to be a little more education in this world.

my point?

so maybe on this day i could ask people to reflect on what it means to be a good samaritan. generally, this means Ask first, Listen for a response, Reflect for a moment, then Act. (use the AFLFARRFAMTA acronym it's really that simple). or i will ask on this day everyone remember bullying is no longer "in" try to model yourself after the spirit of the new administration...Change Can Happen! : )

Happy Monday,

Amanda

Paper Heart...

Good Morning,

It is Valentine’s Day week so here's a little Valentine's lore...

Some people said that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. If she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire.

alternatively...

if she saw a berry munching chickadee, she knew her car was going to get pooped on...

Some people said if you found a glove on the road on Valentine's Day, your future beloved will have the other missing glove...

OR

your beloved will be squished somewhere underneath the tires

Some people said the first man's name you read in the paper or hear will be the name of the man you will marry.

I say there are going to be a lot of women waiting around for a guy named Barack.

Somewhere in this mental mush is the nugget of motivation that lead me to select today's pick--Paper Heart!!!

It is a date movie which might be coming to an art theater near you.

Synopsis:

Charlyne Yi, a young LA-based comedian/performer says she doesn’t believe in love. So, she sets out to make a documentary with a director (who is also her friend) to ask the question- does love really exist?

Specifically, does romantic love really exist? If so, is she fundamentally incapable of being in love because she’s never experienced it? The journey takes her to talk with scientific experts, a rural psychic...to seek advice from an Elvis impersonator in Vegas and other gems of wisdom from everyday couples scattered throughout the heartland. For example, the Texas woman who was mysteriously wooed (read not embarrassed?) when her white knight drove his BIG ruck, UP the courthouse steps to keep her fancy boots from getting wet in the pouring rain. In Texas, I guess this is door-to-door service.

The astute film goer will notice as the creative process begins to unfold, the real life filmmaker also wrote in a storyline to keep the "documentary" footage interesting and compelling. Scribbled on a paper napkin it must have read--Charlyne meets Michael Cera (an A-list actor seen in Juno, Superbad) at a party and the audience watches these two beautifully awkward people date. The message hinted at but never really stated: Charlyne is biologically capable of falling in love and experiencing the full delicacy of its permutation.

In what comes across a bit like a deleted scene added at the end ultimately, we are left to conclude whether Charlyne has found the answer to the age-old question--has she found love for real?

My Reactions

Confusion:

I am always one secretly hoping each on screen kiss is real and disappointed to realize my favorite TV couple is NOT really married. In this manner, when the lights came up for the Q & A, i too wanted to bolt for the door rather than let the quirky-hip director dispel my fantasy. The director tried to be loose and evasive when pointedly asked were/are Charlyne and Michael Cera really dating? He gave the infuriating "Well what do you think?" answer which for the rest of us obviously meant no...


Critique:

This showing of Paper Heart was one of the balloted sessions. Each audience member is given a paper ballot upon entering the theater and asked to mark their "star" rating after the viewing. Out of 4 stars I gave it a 3.

The filmmakers had a very interesting question to ask. In the documentary segments I wanted straight answers from entertaining REAL characters. However, it seemed the characters were not funny enough to carry a scene without a script. It seemed obvious at times that they were responding as actors to fit a scene. From the cushy comfort of my theater seat this left me in limbo feeling like I was watching a parody of "Best in Show" (a dog show spoof).

The STRONG exception to this general rule was a playground scene. When asked questions about love, it's ever so clear children are only in the moment and will say anything.

Recommendation

Paper Heart was a Screenwriting Award Winner for the writer/director Nicholas Jasenovec. There is no doubt this film serves as innovative and creative storytelling-"a wonderfully imagined journey of one girl's search for love."

I am left with an appreciation of a poignant, funny, and intelligent film with one remaining tear in the paper heart.

Charlyne and Michael's charismatic personalities were so strong they often overshadowed the engaging interviews. Upon their meeting, I wanted to see a whole movie with these two interacting as a couple with the rest of the world...with friends, family...in exclusion of the filmmaker's quest. In this sense it seems documentary and dramatic cinema now have a marriage out there but in Hollywood it's still going to be a hard balance act to sell.


okay, now i'm giving Ebert (& dead Siskel) his job back

Happy Monday.

Amanda

"The Review" by A-lo

Good Morning,

In light of recent happenings, I would like to institute the first annual Groundhog Day Award. This is simply the documentary or drama film I would like to watch again and maybe again on Netflix.

This year the award goes to "The Carter!" A documentary about rapper Dwayne Michael Carter Jr. aka "Lil Wayne."

For 90 minutes I sat wondering why do people become fascinated with him?

NBA players, filmmakers, ESPN analysts, anybody who knows anybody in the hip hop R&B/rap world…He has been featured in songs with Chris Brown, Babyface…Birdman they ALL seem to want to collaborate with him.

The easy answer is that he has no filter. This funky little dude is all "id." The "morality checker" the Ego-Superego has suffocated in a cloud of weed smoke...and we all love someone who rises up to stick the digit, give the finger to The Man (in beats and rhyme).

I do not like that answer. I think to understand Lil Wayne's appeal you have to experience his infectious quality. he is his music. He eats it, breaths it, sleeps it until he created a language of his own.

[lyrics-Lil Wayne]
Yeah
To you forever, from me to you
I heard somebody say "church!" I'ma need a suit
I'ma need a Coupe, I won't need a roof
Flyer then Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice

Perhaps because there has never been anyone there to stop him?...he comes up with lines like "Beetle juice, beetle juice, beetle juice..." and seems very pleased with himself. I for one admire that complete brain fart? It makes him human (or waaaaay too high).

Clearly, what he cares about most are his music and drugs. Weed, weed, weed...groggy from cough syrup? explains his mumbling delivery but not his passionate recording habits. Lil Wayne is not some princely male diva demanding all blue M&M’s be removed from the recording studio catering table, instead, he is in his hotel room, on the tour bus with his recording machine spitting out his lyrics and songs on the spot.

Petulant and sullen he refuses to let media types (journalists, TV DJs) root his music in anyone’s history. When asked to reflect on the possible connections to his home town New Orleans jazz, Lil Wayne promptly sent the befuddled reporter out on his ear. “This is a rap interview! you interviewin' a rappa. I don’t do music &^%!”

Not very bright? Not true. Lil Wayne knows how to work recording equipment and is spot on with his lettuce salad of lyrics. There is no logic to “Beetle juice, beetle juice, beetle juice“ but Lil Wayne who writes nothing down including the volumes of lyrics is able to lip sync almost perfectly to any of his songs.

[lyrics- "S on my Chest"]
Yep, Cash Money, Cash Money
Monsta Boys, Mafia Bitch, Even Cops A Boy,
When You Say You Want Beef,
Then I Got Yah Boy,
Ill Juss Let The Big Mac
Whopp Ya Boy

it's a perfect angry blend of cop hating and fast food culture? (I distinctly heard throw offs of three burger meccas in there McDonald's, Burger King, and Frisch's Restaurants...or gun play : (

Lil Wayne at times plays games with the tiresome questions. To thwart another journalist he makes it clear he has no intentions of running for political office…ever, (I hope)

Here’s the platform he proposed to run on…

As president I would:

Legalize weed
Put coke (cocaine) back in Coke
Do away with child support
End divorce $$$$
Legalize steroids in sports

So, for the record, Mr. Officer

Lil Wayne at heart is a sad, sympathetic- lonely little boy. The film requires subtitles and possibly 2-3 months of listening to tracks from The Carter III (his latest album) but allows you to fully appreciate this eccentric, unfiltered, raw, and powerful artist...Beetle juice beetle juice beetle juice...

Happy Monday.

A-lo