Directed by Nora Ephron; starring John Travolta, Lisa Kudrow, Tim Roth, Ed O’Neil, Richard Schiff, Bill Pullman, Michael Rapaport, Michael Moore.
First of all – this is made by Nora Ephron! Heartburn! Sleepless! Her and Penny Marshall have to be the two best female filmmakers going – at least of the older gen. You know you don’t get an amazing cast like this together unless you’ve got someone like Ephron at the helm.
For sure this is no Best Picture – but it is some low-budget dark comedy magic.
Flipping channels one night I happened to luck into the scene where Richard Schiff’s Jerry confronts Tim Roth’s Gig in the strip-club kitchen over the rigging of the lottery. For me, it’s as Dylan sings of Gregory Peck, “I’d watch him in anything.” Either of these two stop me in my tracks. Ya gotta think this scene was at least partly improvised – and wow, what a gem!
So I watched the rest of it. Then tracked it down, and have now seen it about 10 times. Almost every scene is funny, tight and great. There’s not a lull through the first half-hour, and all the way through the hour-15 mark it’s pretty note-perfect. Truthfully, the final reel is a little uneven, but who needs comedies to get nicely wrapped up with a bow?
And WHAT a cast! Tim frickin’ Roth, Travolta, Rapaport, Pullman, and Richard Schiff!! Masters all. And Travolta’s hilariously hopeless weatherman is perfectly pathetic. After Pulp Fiction turned things around, it was this and Primary Colors that won me over to him.
And Bill Pullman’s lazy cop is priceless! He doesn’t even enter the movie until an hour in, but I laugh every time I just think of him. “The lower back . . . it’s an enigma.” “Where . . . do you find girls like that?” “You know what would be unfortunate — if we got into that whole ‘let’s-follow-him’ rigmarole.” “Great. Now I’ve got another 20,000 forms to fill out.”
And then the insane Lisa “There is a limit to my classiness” Kudrow. And even Michael Moore is actually believable. And then Al Bundy with a station manager’s job! And Michael Rapaport is perfect as dumb Dale The Thug — especially the scene when he first meets Travolta at his house.
And there’s choice cameo bit-parts including by the great Canadian improv actor Colin Mochrie playing the manager of the Denny’s, who’s most recognized for all the “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” shows he did. And the goofy blond stand-up comic and over-the-top actress, Maria Bamford, plays the lucky loopy waitress.
And what a great soundtrack! The Cars’ “Moving In Stereo”! Dr. John’s “Right Place, Wrong Time”! “Hey, Big Spender“! Rickie Lee Jones! “Mack, The Knife,” Blondie! “Freeze-Frame by J Geils! “Love Is A Drug“, and “We Are The Champions” when the truck’s pulling out in the snowstorm.
For the most part, the writing is just fantastic. Almost every frickin’ scene. I assume Ephron helped, and maybe her hired-gun pal Carrie Fischer. It’s too good for one guy. Adam Resnick, the main writer, was from “The Larry Sanders Show” and Letterman. The characters are just fantastic (ly flawed and horrible!)
If you like this kind of thing, make it a point to find “Beat The Devil” (1953), the same kind of comedy noir, except via a well-buzzed John Huston, with Humphrey Bogart, Peter Lorie and a ton of other true characters.
Or here’s a review of the lost footage of the historic roc n roll train trip that was finally released as Festival Express, starring the Grateful Dead, The Band and Janis Joplin.
Or here’s the Scorsese’s Rolling Stones concert film — Shine A Light.
Or here’s the brilliant surreal masterpiece interpreting Bob Dylan — I’m Not There.
Here are the easily printable one-sheet roster line-ups for the different teams, with all players in their positions, on lines, with their Olympic jersey numbers, ages, current teams, etc. . . .
The docs are in Word, and for printing just make sure it’s set to “landscape” — it should come out on one sideways page.
And just print “Current page,” and not “All” unless you want a blank extra.
Being in Canada on Gold Medal Sunday will be like being in America on Obama’s Election Night.
Canadian Kindness: When in public Celebrations — remember, we’re hosting. People rooting for other nations are ourguests and Olympic friends. It’s just a game. They’re just you and me, from somewhere else. Celebrate them for showing pride in a foreign land, and make everyone love this place as much as we do. 🙂
I’m back doing Olympic Hockey Reports on ThatChannel.com. Here’s with hosts Hugh Reilly & Nikki Hayes doing The Final Olympic Debriefing discussing the overwhelming effect they had on Canada. (open another window to keep reading this site)
Or here’s Jan. 29th — Brian-Hugh-Nikki — discussing the final cauldron lighting; Canada’s consortium of coaches; the Russians vs Canada; great players vs team sports; the Magic of the Midnight Games; the emotion of Canada winning; the David & Goliath epic being written; and the opening game vs. Norway at the Cineplexes.
And as we should always play the national anthem first, here’s Maritime rapper Class with his new Canadian anthem for your listening and/or viewing pleasure as you discover the Gold in these thar Olympics.
I also highly recommend all Canadians watch the amazingly revealing documentary “On Home Ice” that was filmed over the last year showing how the team was put together. It’s kind-of a must-see if you want to understand this team.
The Flow Below
Preliminary Round Gameplans
The Final All-Player Olympics
The Gold Medal will be Decided over Lunch
Overview of 2010 Teams
TV Broadcasts
The Midnight Games
The Crazy-But-True Dept.
The Russians
Rule Changes
3-Point System to Determine Standings
Olympians by NHL team
IIHF Ranking of Participating Nations
Different Leagues in these Olympics
Preliminary Round Gameplans . . .
(feel free to replicate in a town near you)
game 1 — Tuesday Feb 16th — 7:30PM — Canada vs Norway — this is the 10-0 game where we come together as a team and have a gelling & excelling scrimmage. I expect Roberto Luongo in net for his evaluation game against this weakest of opponents. Location: the Cineplex (the Scotiabank one Richmond St.). Yes, the movie theater. I’ve never seen a live game in one. Could you imagine a 100 foot Hi-Def screen with the best surround-sound in existence and hundreds of screaming new best friends? It’s not weather dependent cuz it’s indoors, and t’s the first game, so it won’t have caught on yet as the thing to do. And we let the outdoor scenes have a chance to gel and work out the bugs and spread word-of-mouth and gather mass momentum.
game 2 — Thursday Feb 18th — 7:30 — Canada vs Switzerland — despite our pathetic Wayne Bertuzzi team last Olympics getting shut-out by the Swiss, this should be 5–1 or better, or we’re gonna have trouble again. I expect Brodeur to be in net for Canada in his warm-up try-out game — vs Anaheim’s current monster Jonas Hiller for the Swiss, an excellent foil who’s on a hot streak. And we need to be able to beat good goalies. Since it’ll be a fast-played, exciting game, this is the time to be cheering & high-fiving in a Sea of Red at Nathan Phillips and/or Dundas Sq (weather permitting). We’ll find out which has the better screen and scene. It’s a 10-minute walk between and there’s 15 minute intermissions — I’m anticipating the first period at one party, the 2nd at the other, and the third at the best one. 🙂
game 3 — Sunday Feb 21st — 7:40 — Canada vs USA — The Home Game — the 2002 Gold Medal Rematch! This is the one to watch at home or a friend’s house, a la Super Bowl Sunday — there’s a fantastic warm-up game in the afternoon with Russia vs the Czechs from 3:00–5:30 — have a nice afternoon of it, making good use of the kitchen — followed by a 2-hour dinner n drinks break, and then the game that determines who finishes First in our Group, getting a bye directly into the Quarterfinals — and which team has to play an exhausting extra game the night before. The team that wins Gold will likely have gone 6-0 in the tournament. Only 3 teams will win this Sunday Final. And don’t forget — the big Midnight Game — Sweden vs Finland! The second recent Gold Medal rematch of the night!
After these 3 games, I/we/you will have experienced it 3 different ways, and can decide how to do the “game 7” elimination games, beginning with the Quarter-Final game on Wed Feb 24th, at 7:30 (Eastern).
I anticipate some serious Hi-Def action at Nathan Phillips. Including and especially the pre-Gold Medal games. Stay tuned for details. Semi-final game: Friday Night, 9:30 PM (Eastern), Feb. 26th Gold Medal game: Sunday Afternoon, 3:15 PM (Eastern), Feb 28th
These are likely the Final All-Player Olympics
Although they won’t officially say it until eons from now in the middle of some summer when no one’s paying attention, the NHL is not going to participate in the next Olympics. Their 4-Olympic association did not produce the desired results of generating massive interest in hockey (in the, um, U.S. they mean). The next in Russia will have all games played in the middle of the night in North America, and the NHL and the KHL don’t get along, and nobody but Russians will be paying a smidgeon of attention, and the best players on every NHL team won’t have to get completely distracted and have their internal clocks thrown off and risk injury and keep everybody else on salary for two weeks doin’ nuthin’ for some nobody’s-watching tournament in a remote port on the other side of the planet. Which, nobody mentions, is located about 5 minutes from Syria, Iraq, Iran & a whole rubble’a trouble.
So, the all-player Olympics will end with this 4th tournament.
So far it’s: Sweden 1, Canada 1, Czechs 1.
So, rightfully and fairly, it’s Russia’s turn. But . . .
It’s a Clean Slate
People always compare one Olympics to another, as though they’re games in a continuing series. They’re 4 years apart.
What happened before has nothing to do with what will happen this time.
That’s the first thing to internalize.
It’s a clean slate.
Make Hockey Not War
I see hockey as more art than war. I don’t view anyone in this tourney as the enemy, but rather amazingly skilled players joining the all-star jam. I know competition is required for the artform to be created, but when it’s players this good I couldn’t care less what color their jersey is.
This Olympic Chapter
With the Russian’s so dominant right now, it makes for such a great story to have the underdog country win Gold at home. Plus, Russia’s gonna SO win it next Olympics at home.
This is the classic match-up where the team with the will, passion, desire and need will be the one that triumphs. It’s the Moose Jaw Davids against the Moscow Goliaths.
These Olympics will surpass any single assemblage of hockey players in history. There’s never been anything with this many Masters in their prime in the modern uber-skill era. And it’s SO set up for this great underdog home team victory story! ’72 in the 21st Century. And to top off the weirdness and drama …
Historic Hockey — these four teams’ one-time-only combinations — and for the last time from the NHL — 88 of the greatest hockey players alive are on those Final Four teams — this will be an all-star jam for the ages!
Do not Self-inflict Blindness by Oneteamism — it doesn’t matter where you’re from — do not miss watching and appreciating all the other Top Teams. Every one of them is jaw-droppingly great.
And watch for — a direct correlation between the total number of team penalty minutes and the final standings. The Gold Medal team will have gone 6-0 for the tournament, and will have the lowest number of penalty minutes; the 4th place team will have the most PMs, and so on.
The Gold Medal will be Decided over Lunch
The biggest game in every one of these players’ lives — the game that determines Hockey Supremacy for the next 4 and likely more years — The Gold Medal Game — is being played at puckin lunchtime, High Noon local time — seven hours off all the players’ cycle and schedule. It’s because the Closing Ceremonies are scheduled for dinnertime that night, and this is the climactic Medal of the Tournament — but still. This factor, more than any other, affects the game. It’s like a football game in snow: Who responds to the adverse conditions better?
But the good, weird & wild thing is — every period will be different. In these “morning” games, the team that’s alert and awake in the first period is often not the team that’s “on” in the third.
Overview of 2010 Teams
Although the tournament groups are divided differently, there are essentially four groups of three countries each.
There’s the “Thanks for coming” countries —
Belarus
Norway
Latvia
There’s the “Could pull off an upset” countries —
Slovakia
Switzerland
Germany
There’s the “Could Medal with a hot goalie” countries —
USA
Finland
Czechs
and then there’s “The Three Giants” —
Canada
Russia
Sweden
Either Canada or Russia will win Gold, that’s for sure. If another team makes it to the final, they won’t beat the team in red.
The two semi-final games on Friday (Feb 26th) may very well decide which red team it is. The best thing for Canada will be if Russia plays Sweden, and Sweden wins. Only one of the semi-final teams gets a “bye” and doesn’t have to play a fellow Top-3 Team.
And the way who-faces-who happens is —>
The “3-Point System” to Determine Standings
This is KEY to Canada winning Gold. They MUST finish First and not be in the 2-vs-3 semi-final game. Not only because risking elimination, but the team that wins that game will be bagged for the final.
The U.S. also needs to finish in the top 4 (or above), or 5th at worst, to get to play the 4th place team and upset them. If the U.S. finishes worse than 5th in the Preliminary, they’ll likely be eliminated in the the first quarterfinal game against any of the Big Three.
The 3-game “Preliminary Round” — which determines the rankings for the rest of the tournament — will use the 3 point system — much debated since the NHL’s implementation of the shoot-out and elimination of ties.
3 points – for winning the game in 60 min.
2 points – for winning in OT or a Shoot-Out
1 point – for being tied at end of regulation, but losing later
0 points – for losing in regulation
. . . (seems fairly fair n logical to me.)
Overtime
ALL overtime is played 4-on-4.
Preliminary round — 5 minutes of OT, then shoot-out (3 players, then tie breakers)
All following games, including Bronze Medal — 10 minutes, then shoot-out
Gold Medal game — 20 minutes OT, then shoot-out
Shoot-out Panic Reduction:
Do note: No Olympic men’s hockey game has gone to a shoot-out since Gretzky didn’t skate against Hasek in 1998. And before that, there’d only been 3 all-time. They’re pretty rare. And there’s no way the Gold Medal game will feature two teams who both can’t score a single goal in 20 min. of 4-on-4.
The TV Broadcasts
In Canada: Great News: CTV / TSN have teamed up with Rogers Sportsnet to use all of their collective networks to broadcast the Olympics — meaning all hockey games will be broadcast live and uninterrupted. You can check the specific TV listings here. Additional Major Bonus: Don Cherry’s voice will not be heard anywhere — and the Real Hockey Anthem will be played everywhere!
Play-by-play — Chris Cuthbert, Gord Miller and Peter Loubardias (some guy from Saskatoon who calls the Flames games on Sportsnet).
And we’re gonna be blessed with Buddha Bob McKenzie — the Howie Meeker of our time.
And now . . . let us bow and pray . . . “Lord, may Pierre McGuire takes his meds on time, lays off the coffee, and have his mike turned down.” Sadly, Ray Ferraro is the very weak link in the color dept.
In the U.S.: NBC will do their masterful job again, utilizing USA Network, MSNBC and CNBC so all major games are covered uninterrupted. Make sure you know where those networks are on your cable — and that you have them — or you’re going to miss a lot of it. NBC has an excellent website with TV listings searchable by day and / or by sport.
More Good News Dept.: The Master, Doc Emrick, is doing the play-by-play for the U.S. games. And Jeremy Roenick will be on hand — hopefully some color in the Doctor’s office. But it may be his now-regular sidekick Eddie Olczyk, who’s pretty insightful. Played 16 seasons for a lot of major teams, and was Crosby’s first coach in the NHL.
Great news — all games are televised live in both countries.
Here’s the Preliminary Round schedule with times and networks:
(All times Eastern — and all games are the same time every day:
3PM, 7:30PM, and midnight.)
Tuesday Feb 16th
USA vs Switzerland — 3PM — TSN / USA Canada vs Norway — 7:30PM — CTV / CNBC Russia vs Latvia — midnight — CTV / CNBC
Wednesday Feb 17th
Finland vs Belarus — 3PM — TSN / MSNBC Sweden vs Germany — 7:30PM — TSN / CNBC
Czechs vs Slovakia — midnight — SNET / CNBC
Thursday Feb 18th
USA vs Norway — 3PM — SNET / USA Canada vs Switzerland — 7:30PM — CTV / CNBC Russia vs Slovakia — midnight — TSN / CNBC
Friday Feb 19th
Sweden vs Belarus — 3PM — SNET / MSNBC
Czechs vs Latvia — 7:30PM — SNET / CNBC
Finland vs Germany — midnight — CTV / MSNBC
Saturday Feb 20th
Switzerland vs Norway — 3PM — SNET / MSNBC
Slovakia vs Latvia — 7:30PM — SNET / MSNBC
Germany vs Belarus — midnight — TSN / MSNBC
Sunday Feb 21st — The Big Day
Russia vs Czechs — 3PM — TSN / NBC Canada vs USA — 7:40PM — CTV / MSNBC Sweden vs Finland — midnight — CTV / MSNBC
The Midnight Games
For those in the Central or Eastern who can experience hockey at the witching hour, The Midnight Games are going to be as good or better than the Canada games. The first night it’s the Russians playing the Unified Latvians. Could be even more of a skills display than Canada–Norway. The second night it’s the Russians vs. the Slovaks, which are an amazing team with Gaborick, the Hossas, and Chara, for starters. And THEN on the Final Sunday — it’s the Finns vs the Swedes — 2 of the Top 4 teams will decide who gets the bye and who has to play an extra elimination match. The Midnight Games are going to be some of the best hockey of the Preliminary Round.
The Crazy-But-True Dept.:
If you want to see NHL participation in the next Olympics, you better hope it’s a Canada vs USA Gold Medal game, and that the U.S. wins.
Failing that, this’ll be the last NHL Olympics until at least 2018 — the location of which won’t even be announced until 2011. There will have been 4 all-player Olympics. The next possible one will come when you’re nearly a decade older.
The Russians
It’s going to be such a Gift to watch this team play. Their offensive unit is probably the best ever assembled in the history of the sport.
It’s funny how some think that because they have players from the KHL that they’re not as good as NHLrs. Them folks gettin’ a big surprise comin!
The question is: Can Canada beat them in one game? at home? a la Miracle on Ice? What is in the script?
If it was a 7 game series, the Russians may well take it in 5. But Canada can beat them once, when they have to. As long as they’ve got the goaltending. And they’re gonna have to score 4 or more goals — cuz there’s no way the Russians aren’t scoring 3 or more every game. These ain’t gonna be no 2–1 games.
No matter which team wins, we’re going to have been witness to an historic and lifelong memorable display of the best hockey ever played.
I read the whole thing of course, and there’s a few small differences …
— automatic icing — thank gawd! Whose career-ending injury is it gonna take for the NHL to adopt this?
— no trapezoid, so the goalie can play the puck anywhere
— intermission is 15 min., not 17 min. like NHL
— visors required for everyone born after ’74
But there’s some major ones, too — Fighting, Checks to the head, and Checks from behind.
In the Olympics:
— Fighting means 5 min. major, plus ejection from game
— Check to the Head (aka a Pronger elbow), or a Check from Behind:
The IIHF officially and clearly states: “There’s no such thing as a clean hit to the head.” So it’s always a penalty.
if it’s not serious — 2 min penalty, plus 10 min. misconduct
if it’s at all serious — 5 min major, and ejection from game Plus potential additional Match Penalty (player out for the next came as well, without substitution). This is my Pronger (and Mike Richards) concern, and why I’m glad Phaneuf’s not on the team.
Breakdown of Olympians by NHL team:
Anaheim (9) — Scott Niedermayer, Ryan Getzlaf & Corey Perry on Canada; Teemu Selanne & Saku Koivu for Finland; Bobby Ryan & Ryan Whitney for USA; Luca Sbisa & Jonas Hiller (goalie) for Switzerland.
Detroit (8) — Lidstrom, Kronwall, Zetterberg & Franzen on Sweden; Pavel Datsyuk (Russia); Filppula (Finland); Brian Rafalski (USA); Ole-Kristen Tollefen (Norway), not to mention Team Canada’s GM Yzerman, asst. GM Holland, Coach Babcock, and former employee and friend Scotty Bowman as unofficial consultant.
San Jose (8) — Heatley–Thornton–Marleau, & Dan Boyle for Canada; Evgeni Nabokov (goalie Russia); Joe Pavelski (USA); Douglas Murray (Sweden); Thomas Griess (goalie Germany)
Vancouver (7) — the Sedin twins on Sweden; Roberto Luongo (goalie Canada); Ryan Kesler (USA); Sami Salo (Finland); Pavol Demitra (Slovaks); Christian Ehroff (goalie Germany)
Chicago (6) — Keith, Seabrook & Toews on Canada; Patrick Kane (USA); Marian Hossa & Tomas Kopecky (Slovaks)
Boston (6) — Patrice Bergeron (Canada, & Crosby linemate); Tim Thomas (35 yr old goalie USA); Zdeno Chara (Slovakia); Marco Sturm (Germany); David Krejci (Czech); Miro Satan (Slovakia)
Columbus (6) — Rick Nash, and asst. coach Ken Hitchcock for Canada; Sami Pahlsson & Fredrik Modin (Sweden); Fedor Tyutin (Russia); Jan Hejda (Czech); Milan Jurcina (Slovakia)
Nashville (6) — Shea Weber (Canada); Martin Erat (Czechs); Ryan Suter (USA); Patric Hornqvist (Sweden); Marcel Goc, & Alex Sulzer (Germany)
Washington (5) — Ovechkin, Semin & Varlamov on Russia; Nicklas Backstrom (center, Sweden); Tomas Fleischmann (Czech)
NY Rangers (5) — King Henrik Lundqvist (goalie Sweden); Marian Gaborick (Slovakia); Chris Drury & Ryan Callahan (USA, plus asst. coach John Tortorella); Olli Jokinen (Finland)
Minnesota (5) — Martin Havlet & Marek Zidlicky (Czechs); Niklas Backstrom (goalie Finland), Mikko Koivu & Antti Miettinen (Finland)
Atlanta (5) — Maxim Afinogenov (Russia); Johnny Oduya & Tobias Enstrom (Sweden); Pavel Kubina & Ondrej Pavelec (Czechs); plus Don Waddell, asst. GM of USA
Los Angeles (5) — Quick Draw McGraw, Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid — aka Jonathan Quick, Jack Johnson & Dust’m Brown, for the Hollywood Westerns; Drew Doughty (the 20 yr old d-man for Canada); Michal Handzus (Slovakia)
Montreal (5) — Andrei Markov (Russia); Jaroslav Halak (goalie Slovakia); Tomas Plekanec (Czech); Sergei Kostitsyn (Belarus); Yannick Weber (Swiss)
Ottawa (5) — Daniel Alfredsson (Sweden); Anton Volchenkov (Russia); Milan Michalek & Filip Kuba (Czech); Jarkko Ruutu (Finland)
Buffalo (5) — Ryan Miller (goalie USA); Henrik Tallinder (Sweden); Toni Lydman (Finland); Jochen Hecht (Germany); Andrej Sekera (Slovakia); plus Lindy Ruff, asst. coach for Canada
New Jersey (5) — Zach Parise & Captain Langenbrunner for USA; Marty Brodeur (goalie Canada, plus Jacques Lemaire as asst. coach); Ilya Kovalchuk (Russia); Patrik Elias (Czechs)
Tampa Bay (4) — Ryan “Bugsy” Malone (USA); Antero Niittymaki (goalie Finland, MVP ’06 Olympics); Andrej Meszaros (Slovakia); Mattias Ohlund (Sweden)
Carolina (4) — Eric Staal (Canada); Tim Gleason (USA); Joni Pitkanen & Tuomo Ruutu (Finland)
Colorado (3) — Paul Statsny (USA); Peter Budaj (goalie Slovakia); Rusian Salei (Belarus)
Toronto (3) — Phil Kessel (USA — not to mention them being “America’s team” with GM Burke, and Coach Wilson); Tomas Kaberle (Czechs); the Monster (goalie Sweden)
Florida (2) — Tomas Vokoun (goalie Czechs); Dennis Seidenberg (Germany)
Edmonton (2) — Denis Grebeshkov (Russia); Lubomir Visnovsky (Slovakia); plus Kevin Lowe, asst. GM of Canada
NY Islanders (1) — Mark Streit (Swiss); plus Scott Gordon, asst. coach of USA
Current (2009) IIHF Ranking of the Top 12 Nations
[by: ranking — nation — intl points won — position change since 2008]
1 — Russia — 3200 — +1
2 — Canada — 3160 — -1
3 — Sweden — 3095 — 0
4 — Finland — 3050 — 0 . . . (Note: 150 total points separate the Top 4 — then a 135 point drop to the next level)
Only about half the players in these Olympics come from the NHL.
Here’s a breakdown of the number of Olympians from each league:
142 NHL — — (equals 16% of the 860 active players in the league get to go play, and 84% get an amazing 2-week holiday in the middle of the season! No wonder the NHLPA loves it!)
60 KHL
21 GERMAN
17 SWISS
16 SWEDISH
6 NORWAY
5 AHL
5 BELARUS
2 CZECH
1 FINISH
1 SLOVAK
1 WHL
1 FREE AGENT
For complete rosters of the top 7 Olympic teams — gohere.
For a great story about the torch run through Canada — go here.
The Olympic Torch was passin through Oakville yesterday, had to go. It was down at the huge “creek” that created the center of town at the mouth of the massive Lake Ontario. There’s one main bridge, and at end of it is the town’s central library and performance center.
Some guy from Oakville won Gold, Silver and Bronze medals at recent Olympics, and he’s part of the Canoe Club based down on the creek below. He was supposed to take the Torch kayaking up the river, but it’s frozen. In fact, it’s totally freezing out, and I’m wearing my big winter jacket, but you wanted to show your red, so I pulled over a giant Team Canada hockey jersey, and looked like freakin Turk Broda on a bike in the circus. And of course add a fire-red, torch-head blazing toque — just in case anybody hadn’t noticed me yet.
Adventureman and Mama Bear
As I’m reconnoitering on my shuttle-craft bike mission, I find the Olympic crew setting up base camp right in front of the library doors, and from a stunningly gorgeous Jordana Brewster who certainly lit my torch I charmed the exact route details.
I tie up Ranger, and went scouting on foot for the best scenic overlook on the now-confirmed mental map. Turned out to be right at the beginning of the bridge, standing on the fat flat road barricade beams, where you could see everything that’s comin’ along the street and the whole bridge they’ve closed off for the “ceremony.”
With this perfect secret viewing stand scouted and secured by the Bears and their cubs, I decided to do a test run of the path I planned to run beside the Torch to the next exchange spot.
As soon as I zooped around the corner of the library, there’s the entire Olympic village! Runners, officials, torches n everything! In what appears to be their just-unloading staging area right in front of the library doors! The cool white running suits, the white toques, and the white torches they’ll carry. Just standing there near the vans. Nobody’s around. There are thousands of people lining the street, craning their necks for some dim view of the road, and here’s a half-dozen medal-winning Olympians standing a hundred feet behind them.
And they’re just as friendly as can be. Some little kid comes up and the Olympian lets him pretend to hold the torch and have his picture taken. And I’m like, “I’m getting in on that!” And it’s this John Wood guy, who could be my new bff, won the Silver in ’76 for kayaking or some damn thing. Zoom-bitty-zoom and I’m holding the bloody torch! He’s like, “Here, I want you to feel how heavy it is.” And sure enough it was pretty light for being such a big thing. It’s about 3 feet high, and the flames come out of this black strip about 10 inches long with all these little holes, so if part of it blows out, part of it always stays lit.
Note: there’s nobody around!
Course, right away I get on the cell and call Mama Bear and her cubs to scamper over quick and boom-bitty-boom, there’s dancing Bears in on the act!
Here’s a picture of me taking a picture of Mama Bear and brother Long John Silver . . .
and here I am in full Adventure blaze with Adam the Goldmedalman …
All of a sudden — a cheer goes up from the street. “Let’s see if we can get that perfect spot back!” And dashity-dash, sure enough.
Big parade float-type trucks roll slowly along the running route, with Canadian dancing girls looking almost hot in their parkas. They use one painted lane of the roadway as the perimeter for everyone to stand behind. A little sign on a truck is flashing, “The Torch will be here in a few minutes.” And everyone’s so waitin-for-something-to-happen they cheer the Coca-Cola truck!
Standing on high, Boom, I clearly see the flame early on.
Carrying the torch past us onto the bridge is 87-year-old Rhona Wurtele-Gillis, who, along with her twin sister, competed for Canada in Alpine skiing in the 1948 and ’52 Olympics.
And all the polite law-abiding Canadians are standing dutifully along the line without any barricades or enforcement, and then Boom, as soon as she’s past with the Torch, and, as respectful as we are, well, darned if there wasn’t just nobody there on the “bridge enforcement” per se, and what the heck? The crowd quickly dissolves from two straight-line formations into this swoosh of amebas slowly then faster spreading like water across the empty bridge.
And I’m like, “Hey, this looks like a surf!” and I grab my board and jump right in, at first at a politely fast Canadian paddle, then the hell with it, I’m running — cut to the outside, zip-zam-zoodle, deak-I-am, and Boom! I slant-right at the end zone and there’s the Aging Alpine Adonis standing beside a kid, and they light Torches — which is the big dramatic moment in these Olympic Torch runs — passing the flame from one to another.
They call it “torching off” — and there’s a whole ritual to it. The lit torch and the unlit are both held high, perfectly perpendicular, and then they each tip towards the other until they touch, or “torch-off,” and hold them in an upside down V. After the second torch ignites, they still hold them together for a couple seconds so there’s this huge raging double flame at the peak. Then they separate out straight up and down, and the new person jogs off. And after a quick minute or less of pics with the flame, there’s a specially trained fire guy at each exchange who extinguishes the torch.
So, this all happens right in front of me, and I’m like, “Wow!”
And then the kid with the fresh Torch starts — as per the revised route — back over the bridge the way it just came, in order to head to the Canoe Club. But he’s running into the wind or something and his flame is really low, plus he’s not very tall, and all these people are still streaming onto the bridge right past him in the opposite direction and don’t even see him.
But I’m stickin with the flame, baby! Totally running along side him. And by the time we get off the bridge, the whole street that was just packed about 2 minutes ago is ¾ empty. Nobody seems to get that this is the Torch coming back the same way.
I can see there’s still a huge crowd up at the intersection, so I cut off the corner and bolt for the “torch-off” point ahead. And sure enough, I get right there just before the fame does — and the kid is handing off to none other than Oakville’s triple medal winner Adam van Koeverden! I’m on the front line, three feet in front of him, and all the camera crews are rolling — The Shot of the Day. This is the guy who carried the flag for Canada into the stadium at the last Olympics. We don’t have too many multi-medal winners up here in Lil’ old Canada, so this guy’s The Man. And I’m like, “Wow!”
And meanwhile he takes off down the road toward his Canoe Club. I wasn’t planning to run anymore, but he was going kind of slowly, so I thought, “What the hell?” and I start jogging after him.
He goes down the big hill to the club and the creek, and I watch from this perfect view on the crest, the whole spectacle, camera crews and people running like chasing the bulls in Pamplona.
And all of sudden another kind of fake-out happens — somebody with an unlit torch (John) is walking away through the parking lot and taking half the crowd with him. But the flaming torch is still blazing down by the river, says Neil, so what the heck? says I, racing down the mountain like a skier, wooo-hooo! Zippity-zooming, and just as I get there, Kayaking Adam has his big red instrument hoisted over one shoulder, with the flame held with his other arm, and since he can’t paddle the water, he portages along the shoreline with both kayak and Torch!
Parts of the impromptu path have all these people clustered, and then there’s whole stretches with nobody but crazy me and him. Oh, and the six guards. They’re all in Olympic uniforms; 2 run in front, 2 on either side of the Torch, and 2 behind, creating this about 4-foot bubble around the Torch-bearer.
So we loop all around the park by the crick, and head back up to the Club and sure enough he’s handing off to brother John! Because of the enormous crowd for this momentous Torch-off between their two famous champions, I’m jogging in the back of a parade. But everybody bails as soon as we hit the hill back up, and sure as shootin it’s just me and Long John Silver & The Guardian Six-Pack running up the mountain, and I got my hands in the air clapping to people ahead. Make some noise!
As we round the corner, a bunch of John’s friends are waiting and they’re yelling and he’s yelling and they’re waving and he’s waving and they’re cheering and he’s smiling and they’re snapping shots and he sees someone who makes him start to run over to the sidewalk and the two Captains in front simultaneously yell, “Hey, get back in line! Stay in the center,” and he and I are laughing and he hollers to his friends, “I gotta stay on the straight and narrow!”
And all of sudden we hit traffic! They don’t even close all the streets in this po-dunk town. The Captains yell, “Goin’ Left” and they squeeze over and suddenly they’ve engulfed me. I’m in the sacred circle. And Mother Captain in front immediately looks back sensing her nest encroached, and before she could say anything, I go, “I know, I’m trapped!” And the next available break in traffic I cut to the sidewalk, and even the cops are takin’ pictures. It’s Brother John! Oakville’s prized Olympic hero until Adam took a bite.
I ran over a mile of The Torch Route with one of the greatest Canadian Olympians and several other glowing Silver foxes. I’m exhausted, warmed by the flame, and fully stoked with the Spirit.
Ma’man, Long John Silver — his post-run torched Torch — and a Beaming Mama Linda Bear!
Hippie Holidaze!
and a Glistening New Year’s Olympics!
Brian O’Canada
For a complete guide to the hockey at the Olympics — go here.
For complete rosters of all hockey teams including jersey numbers etc. — go here.
If you’re around, you’re invited to a natural joyous Irish wake for him at the townhouse in Oakville this Saturday, March 6th. Not an obligation, just an invitation.
He passed away naturally, a long slow fade-to-black. Just as the arc of life begins in the unconsciousness of infancy and we gradually gain awareness, it’s in reverse at the end, and with each passing day he was rolling backwards in his wheelchair along that slow steady path to blissful unconsciousness.
He got so he couldn’t remember the meal he just ate. He couldn’t remember going to dialysis the day before. He couldn’t see what was on the TV (but he still liked listening to the news). He would start rolling himself in his chair back to his room after a meal, and fall asleep half-way down the hall. He was 91 years and 9½ weeks old. ( . . . simultaneously)
We’ve had many close-call ambulance-runs since 1983, so Mom and I have lived with the no-tomorrow reality for over 20 years. He started with bleeding ulcers, hip replacements and other internal maintenance, then several strokes that really debilitated him. He had a pacemaker put in and potentially cancerous tumors removed, then this January had kidney failure and began dialysis every other day for the last month.
When I came home to Canada after my broken shoulder in March ‘02, the doctors said they’d be very surprised if he was here in 6 months. That spring we watched original-6 Detroit Red Wings win the Stanley Cup, with Scotty Bowman behind the bench, just like he and I watched Scotty coach another red-uniformed team win back in the 70s. My earliest memories of watching hockey playoffs are with him in “the TV room” on Queenston Street in that idyllic elm-domed River Heights.
2/17 – he’d been throwing darts in the Tuesday Night Men’s Group at the Burloak nursing home. They put him in bed, both side-rails up. They check the rooms every hour. Shortly after 10:00, he somehow lowered the siderail, crawled out, used his walker to go into his bathroom, and fell off the toilet. The nurse’s aid in the next room heard the fall and his call out, and found him on the floor.
Self-reliant farmer. Does everything for himself — trained to get up and go to the bathroom.
They asked him if he knew his son’s name. He said, “Brian.”
They asked his wife’s name, and he answered, “I love her.”
They put him back in bed.
kept checking on him.
irregular heartbeat.
he complains of pain (and he’s not a complainer)
2 AM they call an ambulance, then me.
Wednesday 2/18 morning and afternoon he’s feisty and fighting with the nurses.
This was probably his ‘rally’ as the medical folks call it, the one final physical
outburst of energy before the battery wears down to zero.
But they’re giving me good news on the phone and I’m thinkin, “There he is, still fighting away.” I finally get up there Thursday, but the show’s over. He’s still on stage and can squeeze our hand, but he can’t ask, “How’s Mom?” which was
about all he could say when I last saw him in January. We’d almost, naturally, run out of conversation.
Mom and I sit on either side, each holding a hand. He’s in the “I see you,” Intensive Care Unit, of a major Canadian hospital. A thousand wires going into him monitoring more vital signs than I thought we had, a million dollars worth of
equipment, round-the-clock nurses and a dozen doctors — and we pay nothing.
His breathing and heartbeats are erratic. He’s got kidney failure and dangerously low blood pressure. There’s some infection inside, but he’s too fragile to even look for it. He’s on dopamine, antibiotics, and morphine by the hour. He’s probably had another mild heart-attack within the last day, maybe in the bathroom at Burloak. But he keeps holding on. An astute attending doctor asks, “Was he stubborn?” amazingly and correctly connecting his physiology to his psychology.
The last time I’m with him on Sunday 2/22, he’s on his side and dreaming. His hands are twitching and eyelids flickering, a deep R.E.M. sleep. I asked him one time what he dreams about, and one of his answers was, “Jaunts with my army buddies. Not war scenes, more like sightseeing excursions – Rome, Pompeii, Naples – orchard raids – or visits to homes of poor Italian families to trade an egg, cigarette or soap for vino.”
may the record show . . . my Dad dreamed of scoring wine with his buds!
And here’s another bizarrely relevant dream he wrote down . . . (punctuation his)
“The only real, and I mean REAL!! nightmare I recall having was when I was young – maybe 18 – and boarding with a young couple in Dominion City. The funny papers featured a “SCROOGE” strip – a scraggly-haired, skinny skeleton-looking being who was always scaring hell out of people in the strip. In the dream, I had gone downtown from the old farm house and was told by people on the street that I had better get home because Scrooge was looking for me. I looked around and sure ‘nuff he was coming down the street. I took off running the back-way home, with him after me, over the fence, through the pasture — thought I lost him in the bush — through the farmyard — the house, back door – Mother said, “What’s wrong with you?” – upstairs – into my room – slammed the door – and there BEHIND THE DOOR STOOD SCROOGE REACHING OUT WITH HIS BONEY GNARLED FINGERS TO STRANGLE ME!
“I let out a real DEATH CRY – which woke me up in time to the hear the last of it. The couple who I lived with came running upstairs expecting to find me dead. I had perspired so much I had to change pajamas and the lady put dry sheets on the bed. And it was perspiration.”
:- )
He lived and loved life for another 75 years after that dream, and he never screamed out a death cry at the end. So I think he was in that orchard in Italy, scorin’ that wine, eating vine-fresh grapes, and running around on some adventure in the mountains of Tuscany with his buddies.
The last frame spun through the projector at 5:10 AM on Monday morning, February 23rd.
I had just woken up, actually, and thought, “Don’t want the phone to ring now.” After some 20 years of waiting for ‘the call’, there was only one more call we
were gonna get.
it rang, I flew, he died.
the reel was still spinning and the film was flapping, but the movie was over.
I stayed in his room in a natural, respectful, almost ritualistic way. I held his head, which was still warm, like he was in a deep sleep. I caressed then kissed his warm hair. I found myself walking in circles around his bed, sort of wrapping in his goodness, circling the launchpad as he lifted off to heaven or the ether, or simply into the collective psyche and history of the human race. He lived his life. I talked to him, and thanked him. I remembered tucking him in at the nursing home, and once he was lying down safe in bed and getting ready to drift off to sleep he looked so happy, with the innocent joyous beam of a little boy on Christmas eve. And so he’d taken that blissful sleep as his passage through the door.
He was always a morning person . . .
gettin his daily chores done before breakfast while it was still dark out,
right till the end.
He passed under cover of the night,
slowly drifting away on the dark sea.
The hospital is on the shore of the great Lake Ontario,
and in his serenely private room up on the 5th floor,
a huge picture window overlooks the lake.
After a long while . . . subtle streaks of light . . .
and a sky began to appear.
Then a blazing bright deep red-orange sun cracked the horizon.
and took its slow gentle time.
A new day birthing in a now Dadless world.
The blue water gently rippled all the way from Canada to America.
A flock of Canada geese squawked by in a loud flying V.
The world was coming to life again, without Dad in it.
But I and we are still here.
I thought of all the father’s day and birthday cards, and the bookstore reading of the poem I wrote to him, and how he’d get choked-up every time he heard it.
He knew I loved him.
And we really got to know each other again in the last two years of being home.
I left as a young man to find my way in the world, and with that blessing of the broken-shoulder-exit from the steel-&-glass electric hamster-wheel of New York,
I was able to come home from ‘the wars’ and really get to become friends with him again. Or was it for the first time?
and now he’s gone.
I whispered to him, “Well, Dad, the hospital’s come to life. You lived a good one, and were honorable to everyone you knew. We sure loved you. And I’m glad you were my Dad. Thanks for being here, and for bringing me here. And thanks for the sense of humour and playfulness. And giving your own happiness so that Mom and I might have ours. I love you, Dad. And I’m so glad we got to share so much. Thank you for life and liberty, and an education, and advice, and for being such a grounding source. You were good to everyone you knew.”
I re-learned that you don’t regret the things you do in life, you regret the things you Don’t do.
And how, in so many ways, the dead live on inside us, and around us, and are still here.
There are living people who you love but who are not in the room with you right now. Even though you can’t physically see them or caress them at this moment, they are still in your life, influencing what you do, and being the love that buoys your soul. My dad is watching over me as much right now as he was last month or 30 years ago. He’s still here.
With the Leafs now in 30th place, I need to clarify why I say …
We’re living through a monumental collapse in the history of The Toronto Maple Leafs — a period that will be written about for the rest of hockey time.
Every facet of this franchise is now utterly pucked. Teams can overcome an element or two not being in synch — but not The Full Ginsberg.
Here’s why it’s so bad — and is gonna get worse:
Ownership: A corporation. Who knows nothing about hockey, as much as some of them may think they do. What they know and care about are accounting statements, and that’s it. If they’re charging Le Cirque prices for McDonalds food, and can raise their prices every year and still have a waiting-list every night, that is One performing asset that is not to be mucked with.
GM: A large person is humble and deflects praise to others. A small person takes credit for things they didn’t do. That Burke, as a 2nd yr GM takes credit for that Anaheim Cup … don’t get me started. And certainly don’t get any Anaheim fan started! Now, here he is building a thug-based team in “the New NHL,” while simultaneously dealing away their drafting future, and maxing out their salary cap so UFA’s aren’t even an option. Comic Image: Blustering Burke in the oak paneled boardroom scaring the pants off the manicured suits — until they give him a 5-year, no-supervision contract.
Coach: Prof. Wilson is a textbook mismatch for a “pugnacious” GM like Burke. Wilson may be a passable hockey tactician, but quite obviously not a “motivator” — not a player seems to be responding — and isn’t exactly coaching this low-skilled squad to play disciplined, capitalize on other teams’ mistakes, and score with the special teams. But these poor (okay, not “poor” – “unfortunate”) Leaf players are getting two opposing messages. Their structure is built in conflict with itself. Ironically, the recently unearthed Quinnasaurous Pat may be the only current coach appropriate for this Burke team.
Forwards: Dump & don’t-chase. There’s not a legitimate Top-6 sniper in the squadron. They’re not a threat to any defense or starting goalie in the league. Picture — rocks dinging off tanks.
Goofy’s Goons: 1/6th of every game’s forward roster are staged fighters. The Leafs are the last-place team, and they voluntarily spot every opponent 2 forwards per game.
Defense: As bad as it gets — the most goals against in the league — undisciplined, slow, constantly out of position, neither strong defensively nor offensively, confused, penalty-prone as well as the league’s worst penalty-killers — and with no Leader to quarterback or follow.
Goaltending: The one position that can, in some instances, overcome other factors not in place — and it’s the weakest part of the team. There’s Porous Toskala (who’s currently the 50th worst save % goalie out of 53 to play so far this season); and a giant injury-prone monster who drops to the ice before every shot is taken, and who’s already been out twice with heart and groin problems and he’s only been on the job a week.
Overall: Beyond all the systemic and wide-arcing problems, they have the weakest current starting roster in the NHL, and one of the shallowest farm team talent pools — ranked 22nd, last I checked. And the team having no team Captain is emblematic of them having no leadership whatsoever in the dressing room.
Add to that: Every team has learned firsthand how hard points are to come by in this tight parity era, and unlike seasons past, players are much less likely to take lightly the “easy” games against last-place teams. A couple points has been the difference between playoff bonuses or not for nearly every player in the league.
Why the problem grows: The only advantage to being terrible is getting top draft picks — except of course Burke’s traded away the Leafs’ for the next two years. So far. And because the franchise has been doing that for so many years, they have very little in the stable to draw on — and no major player coming in until 3 years from now (at the earliest).
Rebuilding: Some people have bought the line that the Leafs are “rebuilding” — when, sadly, they’ve been looted, and are being demolished: Almost all their “treasure” is gone, and they’ve sold off their futures, again.
The Long-Term: This modus operendi will continue through (and by consequences, beyond) Burke’s 5–year contract — under a man leading the last war’s weapons into tomorrow’s NHL.
And because his boss, the ownership, doesn’t care if the team wins or loses — as long as they appear that they’re trying, and they sell more hotdogs than they did last year — then this Division of their holdings meets its target, and “Let’s move on to next on the agenda …”
Ramifications: Since the Leafs will finish last or close to it the next two years, every draft pick they could have gotten (and especially the 3 players Boston actually selects) will be held against this Burke era for the next 20 years of those players’ careers. Or picture in 2 years when whomever the Bruins draft 1st overall is having a better season than Phil Kessel. Plus, of course, during this time the Leafs won’t be doing any “rebuilding” at all.
This is no small collapse. It’s historically huge. And the drafted bridges to a future escape are already burned.
It’s like watching Katrina form over the Gulf. It’s so big, so ominous, and so obvious that utter devastation is coming when this hits home.
with a twinkling & loving nod to Neal Cassady . . .
Coming into Manhattan thru the Holland Tunnel — 6PM on the Friday of the Labor Day Long Weekend . . .
It’s my first moments in Manhattan since Obama’s Election Night!
And on the exact anniversary of the very day I first arrived in this town 29 years earlier.
Everything’s not too bad, considering — until I cross all the way over the island to the FDR entrance at the end of Houston — and it’s freakin’ closed!! No reason, no warning. Just big orange cone blockers.
After contemplating just running them, I turn around with everybody else and headed back towards First Avenue to go Uptown. It was already a freakin’ nightmare of Long-Weekend Long-Island Friday rush-hour traffic and now the FDR detour is merging with everyone funneling off the freakin’ Williamsburg Bridge so fuget-about-it.
Motionless in quicksand, I brilliantly hang a right onto dark n shady Clinton St. (New York’s first black street) and sneak up to Houston to get around it.
When I turned onto First Avenue from Houston — Zero Street — I couldn’t believe I was seeing a green Avenue light still shining there for a second so I gunned it like hell for the holy grail through the yellowing intersection and right into the end of the racing pack.
Zippity-doo-dahing along the crazy off-road tarmac they call “Avenues” in this town — this whole island should be four-wheel-drive only. But I’m in the mood for some real cruising, so I scooch the hell up with the flow and make it all the way to 14th Street without stopping! But suddenly the light’s turning, so again I run the yellow — past stopping cars on all sides — and jump in on the bare-assed end of the next flow. “This is great! I’m gonna stay right here!”
I’m heading for 23rd where I plan to cut over to take maybe clearer 3rd Avenue up, but then I’m thinking — “Sumpthin’s goin’ on here. This thing’s flowing.” And you don’t break your flow in New York if things are goin’ your way.
So, Boom! I stay on it, bouncing through Gramercy Park, using all three mirrors — and windows open cuz you need all your senses — jumping lanes as needed, having to not worry about Casey the cat in the back cuz I’m on a serious roll. But of course, I glance back anyway for a nano-second and she’s got her claws dug into the luggage and is holding unshakably on.
Hit the 30s and still haven’t stopped! — slaloming between yellow cabs and other non-personal cars. Nobody in their right mind would risk their own vehicle at more than 10 mph on these cement bike trails.
Then suddenly I’m completely surrounded by buses — ahead, behind, both sides — driving in their dark canyon, deafened by their roar, gassed into a stupor by their exhaust, and all the while knowing I could be crushed like an ant in an instant by any one of these Goliaths bouncing un-phased at 40 mph up this horribly broken track.
Then Boom! — the U.N.’s coming up! “Go tunnel or road? Tunnel or road?” Too quick. In tunnel lane already — no movin’ now. Poof! — down into the dark hole of the only Manhattan non-water-crossing tunnel . . . then just as soon — Bloom! Out and back into the light! And the red one ahead just turns green!! Suddenly I’m crossing freakin 50th Street! And a new flow’s starting! Zoom, right into it, not letting up on the pedal at all. If there’s any space ahead, take it. Go go go. “Keep chasing the front of the serge, Sarge.”
And all of a sudden, “That’s the 59th St. Bridge! Holy shit — that’s the last traffic clog on this Avenue!” And now I’m passing 60th St. and haven’t stopped since Houston!
Suddenly it’s just your regular daytime bouncing rapids — fast flowing cars all around, shushing over cement moguls, in the zone, in the flow.
Next time I look up I’m passing my old neighborhood — 81st Street. “No frickin’ way! I gotta tell brother Rob when I get there! I just went 80 freakin blocks in one shot!” (as Gregory would say)
And of course right then there’s a huge clog! But I’m feeling great cuz I just set a new All-Time Non-Stop Land Record in Manhattan!
All these damn trucks are unloading and cabs are stopped for people and there’s about one lane trying to squeeze through the middle, but I’m already sailing up the very center lane of the river and keep bullishly paddling straight ahead to where — I’m through without stopping!
And as soon as I squeeze out the hourglass of jammed traffic, the light ahead’s turning yellow so I just floor it and make it through only by the courtesy of the old New Yorker’s rule — “Never pull into an intersection without first checking if some maniac is gunning the light.”
But I’m way in the back of the flow again so I just give ‘er, and poor ol’ Casey’s holdin’ on for dear life, but I gotta get with the flow, man — flooring it through yellows all the way till I catch up again. And Lord help me but I’m crossing fat freakin’ 96th St. at a race-car pace, dented cabs and army-surplus-bumpered trucks smashing along on either side, everything’s raging at breakneck New York old-school speed when we all lived by — “The speed limit is whatever you can manage to drive on these crummy roads.”
Boom! Going fast as hell through the crazy trunk-bouncing pot-holed rapids of Harlem when the thought first hits — “Gawd — what if I could make it all the way to Rob’s on 117th Street! . . . Whoa! Play it smooth, man, play it smooth!”
But now I’d raced all the way from the back of the last yellow-light pack up to the pole position! “No! Don’t be too fast — don’t hit red — don’t hit red . . . .” So I pulled ‘er back a smidge and just surfed on the crest of the wave. Easy now, easy, just flowin’ with the lights, and glide in softly for a you-won’t-even-notice-it landing, a sweet coasting turn onto 117th Street! And of course — I roll right up and park directly in front of his apartment where I won’t have to move the car till Thursday!
117 blocks non-stop through Manhattan during rush-hour on the Friday of a Long Weekend.
“Live Earth” was the most watched event in human history, the single event experienced by more people at the same time than anything else we’ve ever pulled off.
I love the way she just stares out at the audience before she starts! 🙂
Besides her Oscar-winning song, “A Inconvenient Truth,” it’s all about the improved raps she riffs she lays down for the day’s global eyes.
I watched much of this 24 hour day event with my mom. In fact, it was the last month she was in the house. She’s now in a nursing home, and there’s no more of those kind of shares, both insomniacs, up watching the beautiful Japan temple concerts at 5 in the morning, and then Giants Stadium (where I took her to see the Grateful Dead) in the afternoon. She was into the environment before I was, but she was always so far ahead of her time. In a way, Melissa is her, in a different vessel.
This is a nice essay that was slipped over the transom by a fellow New York warrior in honor of Women’s History Month, thought I’d share.
MEET THE NEW FEMININE FEMINISTS
by Zoe Artemis
These days my life is divided up into two moving parts: teaching dancing, and campaigning for Barack Obama. Yes, I’m a Baby-boomer for Barack.
On March 8, International Women’s Day, I taught a Belly Dance workshop at my studio in New York City. My role: to teach women to connect with their sacred feminine power and their female heritage. The women in attendance ranged in age from 26-60, in all glorious shapes and sizes.
Belly Dancing has great mojo power in bringing together highly smart women from all walks of life, to get down with each other, and dance. I create a supportive environment where women can feel sexy, saucy, ass-kickin’ strong, vampish, gorgeous and nurtured; a space where they can express latent archetypes: the coquette, the angel, the sensualist, the earth mother, the gypsy, the performer, the priestess, the warrior, and the tribal dancer. Meet the new feminine feminists.
We spent the day swiveling, shimmying, shaking, and moving our hips independently of our torso, like a pendulum swinging beneath an immobile clock. To world thumping music our hands created the frame around the body; sometimes the moves were soft, sensual and inward; other times it was outward, wild and reckless. A tribe of women who validate and confirm each other’s sensuality and beauty becomes the perfect antidote to lack of self esteem. For many western women Belly Dance is truly a form of liberation.
The feedback I received from women who belly dance with me is this: it’s not necessary to have that one-to-one attention from a man in order to feel womanly and sensual. Women can feel sexy, sensual and feminine whether they’re in a relationship or not. It’s about creating self-confidence, community, joy and humor. The repetitive movements bring us fully into the present moment, the meditative state, into the zone.
Another aspect which is important for us feminine feminists is that we get to play dress up. Gone are the pant suits, the jeans, the sweat pants, the baggy clothes, the clunky sneakers and the 10″ high heels.
We usually think of feminism as a modern, contemporary trend, however there’s a new kind of feminism that is emerging, where women can own up to their sensuality and softness, while maintaining their fire. I don’t want to take orders from the patriarchy, but I don’t want to take orders from (contemporary) feminists either, i.e., Hillary Clinton and Geraldine Ferraro; which brings me to the current political climate. I am stunned by the raw voracious and, yes, desperate grasping for power by the old guard feminists. It’s pathetic and frightening to see these women make fun of anything deep or soulful, and who take joy in wounding people. Some feminine feminists: Samantha Power, Michelle Obama, Nancy Pelosi and Arianna Huffington. Yelling, shrieking, mocking, bullying, punching and whining are not cool. Punching and whining simultaneously? That’s an oxyMORON.
Zoe Artemis is a native New Yorker who currently teaches belly dance classes at her studio, creative movement classes in the NYC public schools, and campaigns for Barack Obama. In 1977-78, at her first job ever, she worked as an administrative assistant in the Carter White House.
I’m looking for an autographed copy of the book “Barefoot in Babylon” by Bob Spitz, about the Woodstock ’69 concert.
It has all sorts of autographs in it of people who were at Woodtsock ’69, many of them “To Brian”
I am that Brian, and have been looking for the book since it disappeared from a dressing room at NYU on Nov. 19th, 1982.
It has autographs by many people who were both my friends and heroes … Abbie Hoffman, Bill Graham, Carlos Santana, Richie Havens, Country Joe McDonald, Paul Kantner, Grace Slick, Rick Danko, Arlo Guthrie and others.
If you have the book, or have even ever seen it anywhere, please let me know. Reward!
