The Merchant of Venice

When I saw it earlier this year and when I originally wrote this review the production was a modern day version of Shakespeare's play refurbished with jocks, blondes, 5 inch heels, cell phones, Macbooks, flat screens and arcade voices. The stock-market tickers they used were actually more fitting than all of that. The only thing that kept me in my seat was the dialogue. I love reading and hearing the sweet speech of Shakespeare. People knew how to express themselves back then - 'If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men’s cottages princes' palaces'. Seeing the words and scenes in action was also a bit of a plus but I expected lavish sets replete with Ivory columns and victorian bannisters not wrought iron scaffolding and costumes resplendent in royal reds, lace, jeweled pastel frocks, fringes, emerald greens, gilding, curled leather shoes and gold buckles and hats with feathers. Not S and M looking strappy heels and a Filene's basement recall linen sheath. Oh well, oh well... Nevertheless the acting was humorous and attentive. I'd like to make an argument however, that if the play was so brave as to bring a modern spin on the issue then why not do away also with the stereotypical social casting of black servants? I have an acquaintance who talks about nothing else than how much the issue of race still hangs heavier in Boston than many other US cities and I usually tire of the squawks but I have to say the more I see things like this it makes me ponder the truths in the squawks and psychological roots of the problem that persists (see Shades of White Ray as a non-partisan reference)
I know I've seen the play before but this time as if for the first time I felt torn between reproach and pity for Shylock the evident protagonist played by F. Murray Abraham. The harsh treatment he received was not tempered in any way in this play. It really felt like he was an outcast and even cast aside by his daughter which I thought strangely how for the casting of characters she looked more like the blonde set than her Jewish father. Overall the Emerson filled and staffed theatre and play appealed to the cyber age. People who get excited when they see apples and xboxes. In the end I wished I went to a real play.

Un an! et plus

So my blog hit a year without an audience or at least one that shows itself. I only just noticed and I don't mind really because it's like that feeling of freedom when you think no one is looking. You sing loudly and dance, furtively swaying your hips and head wildly. Although I have been trying to learn more from veteran bloggers and surprisingly they are all extremely young, I dare say babes! A little late on the bandwagon I discovered Tavi Gevinson 15 year old blogger of the style rookie and rookie. She  has effortlessly shot up the popularity ladder. After pondering her success I am more convinced that life begins, crests and recedes before we turn 30... and there it goes. See it in the sunset? Missed like a shooting star.
Equipping our kids with a good start is extremely detrimental these days, heck, their competition is lying right next to them in the nursery at birth. In fact from the time they roll over they should recognize that the other kids in daycare are their potential customer base and their audience. But seriously, kids like Gevinson have adapted to their surroundings and learned to market what they know to who they know, doing what comes naturally and accepting who they are (at least in the beginning). I was never a business woman in my early years but I was always an innovator style wise by necessity. I always thought I'd be in music and fashion and so it comes out in my topics a lot. In the meantime hats off to Tavi and her ilk. May they take advantage of these years to benefit themselves. I will clink my champagne glass to myself -because I'm older than 21 and will find any excuse to drink champagne- for continuing the bollogness!
When you get here you can celebrate with me although it's nice to know you work alone!

Music by mood

Someone needs to invest in marketing music by mood. I would do it, except the Mark Zuckerbergs of the world are the ones who really benefit from these ideas. Isn't it true that depending on your mood you'll have a bout of motivation to purchase a collection of music? With my vastly varying degrees of numbness it happens infrequently but it happens nonetheless. I recently purchased Jesca Hoop's Hunting my dress and paired it with Brandi Carlisle's Give up the ghost and Jessica Mayfield's Tell me. They're experimental, inventive, reflective and slightly melancholy bordering on Kate Bush. That's about my second general mode, my modus operandi usually being that of angst but there have been occasions facilitating the purchase of Black eyed peas or Sean Paul numbers. It would be easier  to visit Amazon and step into a music genre if you're feeling happy, jilted or on a world deterioration rant for example. In the meantime I am determined that I want to remake this inspirational Kate Bush song - Cloudbusting into something with more angst-like beats.



And why is it that these days most music lack that feel good rush of excitement and adrenaline? Think  


I guess what could be more adrenaline inducing than jumping out an airplane than sex right? Apparently it sells. I know that mood genre would be flying off the shelves anytime all the time. Well if they at least took the time to stop and consider what music they wanted in the bedroom.

Shades of White Ray

I recently saw a movie called Shades of Ray in which the writers tried to make a plight out of young americans of Paskistani and caucasian heritage trying to deal with traditional expectations while wanting to fit in. After watching it I would say there are more strongly held reservations preventing socializing to the point of commitment between caucasians and other races than I'd like to think but for some reason this movie felt it was ok to continue the idea and embellished upon it that somehow the main character should have been more acceptable being half white while he was told by his Pakistani father not to marry "Blacks", Chinese or Jews. The movie was funny as hell but maybe it was too lopsided in its views. Plus it addressed a minute group of cultural issues. Note I did not say insignificant. I did like the fact that in the end he embraced his pakistani side for monetary gain and career advancement because in the end capitalism wins out.

Fakes

Humans are gross. That I have realized my short life so far but I realized it to a different extent when my "friend" from Washington visited me in February. She and her younger sister I had not seen for about a year but then only briefly did I know them when we met in Germany. I roomed with S (I'll just say S for the sake of saving her reputation) and noted then that she was a bit messy but even then I thought ' when you're on vacation and on the go, who cares about being really neat and tidy?' (Except for me of course) But when S and her sister came to my 3rd floor 2 bedroom apartment for the first time; let's just say after they left I felt the need to steam-igate my apartment. I washed everything that could be washed and sprayed and wiped and dusted and vacuumed - not in that exact order. I wish I could wash sofas but lint rollers and antibacterial Febreze and sunning sufficed for now.
I wish I took a picture of the scene I came home to one afternoon from work but then I'd be mean right? By some standards at least. S and her sister ran a business; a wedding guide business; and so when they are crunching ideas things are scattered everywhere and frankly I don't know how any ideas can flourish in the mess they made. Piles of stuff lined my dining table, boxes, papers and so on which are easy to neaten up and box up really but in the kitchen, bowls of half eaten food were left out on the counters spoons half sucked and left on the countertops next to them and dirty dishes sodden with food lay in the kitchen sink. I couldn't help it; I exploded and sent a barrage of texts to S asking if only they could just have left the dishes in soapy water at least. I don't mind washing dishes, it's always easy once the gunk has been rinsed off or soaked off in hot soapy water. I find it a pleasure to wash dishes dreamily rinsing them in scalding water. Just kidding about the scalding part. Although I do know someone who does that.

So really you can gather that I should have expected this from them having been privy to the experience in Germany, however the part that made me cringe lately was long after they had departed the east coast and settle back in their hometowns S announced via email the she was getting married to her fiance I met while they visited. Now that was expected and I sent my congratulations and was excited to find out all the planning details as they progressed blah, blah, blah. A few months into the planning I received an email of their first engagement photo and it was ultra gorgeous and believable. You always want believable pictures rather than the tense posing picture your great grandparents used to have where they never smiled. They made you think their marriage was a death sentence which it usually is but that's another article, on my theories anyway. So after viewing the picture I remembered that S had mentioned they would be keeping everyone abreast of the progress via her wedding guide blog so I looked it up to see what was going on. They had an interesting photo session of the wedding dress shopping experience and a nice little write up by S but once I was done reading and casually flipped through the blog for more content I discovered an earlier post in which S had a picture of her work station with a very neatly arrayed assortment of materials, practically polished without a speck of dust or a bowl of half eaten food.
I recoiled at that moment! the thoughts running through my head - was it all a mean cruel joke?! Were they just mean to me when in fact they are neat and clean in their homes? S had become a complete fraud in my eyes. I knew it wasn't true and so every bit of her business became a lie. Would you trust someone who could not organize themselves to give you advice on organizing anything?

I will live on islands

Would you leave a country where you can see this everyday in 75 plus degree weather?

It's been a long winter and nothing much else but a routine of working and working out. I have been contemplating whether I am interested in riding for MS again; which I don't mind because it is truly a wonderful ride down the cape but sometimes I just get the feeling that the team just doesn't go with my personality (uh...don't you have that problem all the time?) shut it!
Teams are a really great way to stay motivated and meet lots of people while keeping in shape physically and mentally but you need to choose a team that is just right for you. Think about it, would a 50 year old man enjoy riding in a team of slender 20 somethings who are bent on breaking every charity record there is? Ok, bad example, but you get the point, it's about what you want out of the team. When I joined TVR I didn't want anything out of the team. I just wanted a way to stay active and helping out a good cause just happened to be part of it. I was fortunate to meet some truly dedicated and interesting people with more heart than a cardiac unit and I guess that may be why I didn't get much out of it. I didn't have their motivations. Now that I've ridden with them I get more of a sense of my kind of team. For starters more diversity and I don't just mean black. Although I like charity work I am not bent on saving the world and curing all diseases. Last I checked only Jesus could do that. (Oops I said the word Jesus. There goes my blog!)
A bunch of people who are balanced and enjoy riding while having fun and occasionally fundraising where the word competition does not factor into the event, is my kind of cool. Age is not necessarily a factor. Every age has something to offer, but let's face it, if you're 16 you have less to talk about than that 50 year old guy.  I may just be thinking unrealistically but it's not just because I can't keep up (I've managed clocking 50 mind you) but riding on a team should be enjoyable not intimidating. You should feel like one of the pack and not like prey being circled upon. Ok, that may be an extreme euphemism.