A full moon lunar eclipse, 2 housing contracts that fell through, a blow to the head, sparring Jack Russells and fishing with chum. These are things that have transpired since I last wrote in this blog. Been a wild and wooly week. And today just happens to be the last day of summer. While I'd like to rhapsodize over the lure and luxury of summer's sun, my wilted head limits my capacity to thus rhapsodize so I'll just say: dammit. I hate when it gets cold and dark. My dog hates it as well, huddling his wee, dog bones under any blanket or comforter that he can find. Usually it's my $700 all down comforter. Handy comforter, it warms what lays upon it as well as what lays under it. Lucky dog.
And did I mention that in addition to being the last day of summer, today also heralds the solar eclipse. The Autumnal Equinox begins the season and ends the sun-rich growing season. The focus from now will be reaping the benefits of what we have sown. So I think back on what I've nurtured and fed, watered and fertilized over the season. And I welcome the fruits of my labor.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
The Full Moon Coven
Saturday night, as temperate and lovely a late summer's night as you could wish. A few of my friends come over for a late season cookout. The Argentinian flank steak has been marinating for a week. The vegetable lasagna has been baked to crusty perfection. The salads are chilling, the artichoke tapenade is ready to spread on crunchy toasted bruschetta. The ladies arrive. A red-headed priestess of the Celtic Shaman order. A volcanic Latina with curly ringlets who can spot your aura a mile away accompanied by her lissome teenage daughter. Man I wish I knew the things she know about the cosmos at her age, instead of being fed Protestant catechisms and turn-your-cheek supplications. The sexy sun-kissed Jersey Mom is last to arrive with her sublime 9 year-old daughter.
Only one problem. Ok, two. The grill won't light and there's no Citronella oil for the tiki torches. It is after all late summer and mosquitos don't give up that easily. I trek off to Target, to Shop n Stop and finally to a local QuickChek. No luck. The girls are getting antsy so we pile into Jersey Girl's van with freaking neat-o self-operating sliding doors and head off to Home Depot. And guess what? the men in orange aprons don't have a lick of oil left. Dammit to all hell! Back to the house where I sheepishly call the fiance for some desperate intervention. Said man has stayed out of the equation intentionally, shy of witchy women during a full moon he is, and rightly so. The grill fires up AFTER we consume the salad and lasagna. At least the hot fudge sundaes are a hit, rapidly chowed by all and it's a few hours of star gazing, fire watching and gabbing.
At least it didn't rain.
Only one problem. Ok, two. The grill won't light and there's no Citronella oil for the tiki torches. It is after all late summer and mosquitos don't give up that easily. I trek off to Target, to Shop n Stop and finally to a local QuickChek. No luck. The girls are getting antsy so we pile into Jersey Girl's van with freaking neat-o self-operating sliding doors and head off to Home Depot. And guess what? the men in orange aprons don't have a lick of oil left. Dammit to all hell! Back to the house where I sheepishly call the fiance for some desperate intervention. Said man has stayed out of the equation intentionally, shy of witchy women during a full moon he is, and rightly so. The grill fires up AFTER we consume the salad and lasagna. At least the hot fudge sundaes are a hit, rapidly chowed by all and it's a few hours of star gazing, fire watching and gabbing.
At least it didn't rain.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Full Moon Lunar Eclipse Insomnia
Perhaps it's the lunar eclipse that occurs tonight or the wacky rain-drenching, downright chilly weather in August! (Can you say Global Warming George? It's easier than Camus.) Whatever the cause I haven't been able to sleep at night. So in an attempt to lull myself into a somnolent state of boredom I've been checking out late night TV, which, with the exception of the Daily Show and Animal Planet suck so bad I'm jolted awake. Thank God for the Animal Planet (and Discovery Channel) for being my savior lately with some extraordinary shows.
Saturday night they aired an awesome combo of animal responses to the South East Asian Tsunami and the migration of a tribe of elephants led by the matriarch. Nuff said there. The tsunami show was remarkable, demonstrating that yes indeedy, animals are smarter than humans. Ok, ok, at least they are more attuned to the earth than we moronic humanoids, who apparently are the idjits of our green planet. One segment showed how monkeys ran for higher ground, followed by the smarter folks who realized something was underfoot. Another segment portrayed a baby elephant rescuing a young girl from the beach minutes before it became inundated with a wall of water. She returned a year later to spend time with her rescuer who recognized her immediately. Girlfriends are like that.
While those familiar with Sci Fi dame Anne MacCaffrey know the deep history between dolphins and man, however the divers off the coast of Indonesia were astounded when dolphins came to their rescue underwater during the tsunami. The survivors claimed that the dolphins tried to keep them afloat and divert them into safer waters. Not all animals in the water fared well. Much of the rare green tortoise egg population was drowned and washed away, much to the heartbreak of their caretaker, a local man who spends his life devoted to the creatures. He has apparently spent $500,000 of his own money nesting, incubating, feeding and raising sea turtles. Some people spend that amount on far less worthy causes, like Prada bags or James Blount CDs.
While my insomnia continued I was able to catch one more breathtaking show. It was called Free Diver. I'd seen a commercial for it and assumed it was a fruity attempt to show off some chick in a really tight silver wetsuit. Ok, so it does that too but the best part is what she does. Tanya Street not only wears tight silver wetsuits but is a world-record holding free diver. While this alone is not enough to warrant a TV show on the Animal Planet, (I mean if this were enough I'd have a show with my dog Duke called the Jack Russells of Passaic Park, NJ) what is cause for merit is the woman's courage and fascination with underwater creatures. Donning her wetsuit and nose gear that makes her look like a Los Angeles Laker, she dives into a given body of water, this time in the Galapagos, cavorting with drakes, penguins and seals. The drakes swim half submerged in water, kick their beaks into the air and dive for fish and yummy algae-like thingies. This guy in particular tolerated her presence, but in truth preferred his solo hunting. Now the penguins were just darling. After one dive she exclaimed, "aren't they just the cutest?" And they sure were, shooting through the water with such agility that makes up for their lamentable land skills. I mean, short flightless aquatic birds are no joke in the water. Too bad Opus never got to strut his stuff on Bloom County. Then they bobbed like a curious flock around her on the surface of the water. You know what I would have done? I would have grabbed one of the dumpling penguins and run off home with him. He'd learn to like my bathtub and play with Duke, eventually. The final swim sequence involved the most remarkable swimmers - seals. Tanya, really, the girl has no fear - broke into a group of them and just hung around. Hey guys, wanna play? And they did. They swooped near her, rolled over in very agile underwater somersaults that she emulated. Then they began bringing her shells, which she studiously accepted and then threw for them to retrieve. Tell me this: if a seal can learn to retrieve, why can't a president learn how to listen?
Saturday night they aired an awesome combo of animal responses to the South East Asian Tsunami and the migration of a tribe of elephants led by the matriarch. Nuff said there. The tsunami show was remarkable, demonstrating that yes indeedy, animals are smarter than humans. Ok, ok, at least they are more attuned to the earth than we moronic humanoids, who apparently are the idjits of our green planet. One segment showed how monkeys ran for higher ground, followed by the smarter folks who realized something was underfoot. Another segment portrayed a baby elephant rescuing a young girl from the beach minutes before it became inundated with a wall of water. She returned a year later to spend time with her rescuer who recognized her immediately. Girlfriends are like that.
While those familiar with Sci Fi dame Anne MacCaffrey know the deep history between dolphins and man, however the divers off the coast of Indonesia were astounded when dolphins came to their rescue underwater during the tsunami. The survivors claimed that the dolphins tried to keep them afloat and divert them into safer waters. Not all animals in the water fared well. Much of the rare green tortoise egg population was drowned and washed away, much to the heartbreak of their caretaker, a local man who spends his life devoted to the creatures. He has apparently spent $500,000 of his own money nesting, incubating, feeding and raising sea turtles. Some people spend that amount on far less worthy causes, like Prada bags or James Blount CDs.
While my insomnia continued I was able to catch one more breathtaking show. It was called Free Diver. I'd seen a commercial for it and assumed it was a fruity attempt to show off some chick in a really tight silver wetsuit. Ok, so it does that too but the best part is what she does. Tanya Street not only wears tight silver wetsuits but is a world-record holding free diver. While this alone is not enough to warrant a TV show on the Animal Planet, (I mean if this were enough I'd have a show with my dog Duke called the Jack Russells of Passaic Park, NJ) what is cause for merit is the woman's courage and fascination with underwater creatures. Donning her wetsuit and nose gear that makes her look like a Los Angeles Laker, she dives into a given body of water, this time in the Galapagos, cavorting with drakes, penguins and seals. The drakes swim half submerged in water, kick their beaks into the air and dive for fish and yummy algae-like thingies. This guy in particular tolerated her presence, but in truth preferred his solo hunting. Now the penguins were just darling. After one dive she exclaimed, "aren't they just the cutest?" And they sure were, shooting through the water with such agility that makes up for their lamentable land skills. I mean, short flightless aquatic birds are no joke in the water. Too bad Opus never got to strut his stuff on Bloom County. Then they bobbed like a curious flock around her on the surface of the water. You know what I would have done? I would have grabbed one of the dumpling penguins and run off home with him. He'd learn to like my bathtub and play with Duke, eventually. The final swim sequence involved the most remarkable swimmers - seals. Tanya, really, the girl has no fear - broke into a group of them and just hung around. Hey guys, wanna play? And they did. They swooped near her, rolled over in very agile underwater somersaults that she emulated. Then they began bringing her shells, which she studiously accepted and then threw for them to retrieve. Tell me this: if a seal can learn to retrieve, why can't a president learn how to listen?
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
How a Hero says Goodbye
What strikes me most powerfully about Andre Agassi's farewell tour at the US open is not his flamboyant demeanor nor his shifts in style: from 80s kitsch to Zenlike parity. Nor will it be his undeniable legacy to the technical world of tennis: the return of serve. Commentator and former Grand Slam champ Jim Courier best captured the shot when he said, Nobody had ever used the return of serve as a weapon. Andre showed us how. Altho these are fine and fun attributes, what will linger as a sweet surprise is his journey from Boy to Hero.
We all remember his juvenile proclaimations in the 80s when he claimed "Image is everything". Sure it was - to him as it is to any kid with shitloads of money, that gets followed and emulated worldwide. When you're 20 something these are the things that consume you: hair, fashion, attracting the opposite sex. So he lived the life of a rockstar. And sported the attitude to boot. Then came arch rival Pete Sampras who thwarted Andre's pursuit of the best. Perhaps he learned from this for instead of futilely hunting # 1 he honed other skills. He learned to rise above his competition, to reach profound depths of self when all else was failing. He learned to be an honorable player, which is better than best since #1 is a fleeting position anyway easily chiseled away by injury or a loss.
As Agassi sat through the 8 minute standing ovation after his defeat Sunday, tears pouring down his face you got the chance to see a hero. A man unashamed to display his emotion for the ferociously supportive crowd. He wept, but I think more out of amazement for the love and respect the crowd bathed upon him. And like a real man he accepted it by feeling the gift through the eloquent words he gave back: I have found you. His eloquence carried on into the locker room during the tribute his fellow players gave him and later in the press conference with the media. He could have let disappointment embitter and destroy his career, his life. Instead he chose a sympathetic partner - one of the best female players of all time. He fathered adorable kids that are already capitalizing on their fame via the vehicle of commercials. And he became the most important player in the past 20 years as Lindsey Davenport generously attributed. And now a new door opens as he considers the position of Commissioner of Tennis, as he continues to raise millions for children's charities.
Who knows what this hero has up his sleeve next? Andy Roddick put it best when he said: We have yet to see his greatest contribution.
We all remember his juvenile proclaimations in the 80s when he claimed "Image is everything". Sure it was - to him as it is to any kid with shitloads of money, that gets followed and emulated worldwide. When you're 20 something these are the things that consume you: hair, fashion, attracting the opposite sex. So he lived the life of a rockstar. And sported the attitude to boot. Then came arch rival Pete Sampras who thwarted Andre's pursuit of the best. Perhaps he learned from this for instead of futilely hunting # 1 he honed other skills. He learned to rise above his competition, to reach profound depths of self when all else was failing. He learned to be an honorable player, which is better than best since #1 is a fleeting position anyway easily chiseled away by injury or a loss.
As Agassi sat through the 8 minute standing ovation after his defeat Sunday, tears pouring down his face you got the chance to see a hero. A man unashamed to display his emotion for the ferociously supportive crowd. He wept, but I think more out of amazement for the love and respect the crowd bathed upon him. And like a real man he accepted it by feeling the gift through the eloquent words he gave back: I have found you. His eloquence carried on into the locker room during the tribute his fellow players gave him and later in the press conference with the media. He could have let disappointment embitter and destroy his career, his life. Instead he chose a sympathetic partner - one of the best female players of all time. He fathered adorable kids that are already capitalizing on their fame via the vehicle of commercials. And he became the most important player in the past 20 years as Lindsey Davenport generously attributed. And now a new door opens as he considers the position of Commissioner of Tennis, as he continues to raise millions for children's charities.
Who knows what this hero has up his sleeve next? Andy Roddick put it best when he said: We have yet to see his greatest contribution.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Ode to a Croc Hunter
Life's like that. Unpredictable and often unjust. On September 4th, Steve Irwin died from a blow to the heart from the barb of a sting ray. Just like that. The man who evaded Cobras, scrapped with Tasmanian Devils, cuddled tiger cubs, outraced crocodiles and just plain loved and defended the wee creatures of this earth died. Hardly seems fair. I mean here's a guy who advocates environmentalism, educates the masses through television, devotes his time to the Australia Zoo and serves humanity through his passion for wildlife. In a freak accident his demise leaves a gaping hole in this universe severely handicapped of animal and natural altruists. I mean the guy cries for stranded whales, for God's sakes. How can it be fair that a man of that ilk gets prematurely taken when the dolts at Pennsylvania Avenue survive to add even greater dollars to their bank accounts and wreak havoc to every corner of the world? Can't be fair. All we can hope is their next life will be painful and humilitating. Meanwhile Stevo, dance off to your next adventure mate.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Waiting for Ernesto
First of all, I must rejoice over the Agassi's 5 set victory over Marcos Baghdatis. I'm not so thrilled over the fact that he couldn't close the match in 3 sets when he had the opportunity. Or that I had to switch off the TV at 5 -4 Baghdatis in the 4th set. I swear, I just couldn't take the strain. It reminded me of the old days watching Bjorn Borg rally from the baseline for his historic 5 consecutive Wimbledon wins. Anyway, cortisone on, Andre.
In other news, seems like a British movie was made depicting the assassination of G.W. Can't wait till The Daily Show gets a hold of this.
In other news, seems like a British movie was made depicting the assassination of G.W. Can't wait till The Daily Show gets a hold of this.
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