Zebra legs

This is a story of enlightenment. And "duh"!

Let’s start the story with book club. A year or so ago in my book club, we read a book called Bee Season:

I very clearly remember the photo of the author, Myla Goldberg, from the book’s back cover because of her crazy leg wear:

Ok, now let’s fast forward to last month. I started listening to a new band (new to me, that is) named The Decemberists. I listened to their album, Her Majesty The Decemberists, approximately 3,402 times on a road trip. Here’s the song list:

1.
          Shanty for the Arethusa
2.
          Billy Liar
3.
          Los Angeles, I’m Yours
4.
          The Gymnast, High Above the Ground
5.
          The Bachelor and the Bride
6.
          Song for Myla Goldberg
7.
          The Soldiering Life
8.
          Red Right Ankle
9.
          The Chimbley Sweep
10.
          I Was Meant for the Stage
11.
          As I Rise

See where I’m going with this? If not, don’t feel bad, I didn’t get it either for a long time. Check out song #6 – Song for Myla Goldberg. The same Myla Goldberg who wrote Bee Season! The first few thousand times I listened to this song, I sang along and even boldly declared it my favorite on the album, but was totally oblivious to the literary connection (which totally makes it my favorite!). Obviously not a life changing discovery, but I enjoy the the collision of my music and books.

Here are the song’s full lyrics. They don’t seem to totally relate to the book, but pieces certainly do. (Quick backstory: Eliza is the main character in the book. And she has unique way of figuring out how to spell words.) Here ya go:

Myla Goldberg sets a steady hand upon her brow 
Myla Goldberg hangs a crooked foot all upside down 

It comes around it comes around 
It comes around it comes around 

Pretty hands do pretty things when pretty times arise 
Seraphim and seaweed swim where stick-limbed Myla lies 

It comes around it comes around 
It comes around it comes around 

Still now you're waiting to grow 
Inside you're old 
Sew wings to your pigeon toes 
Put paper to pen 
to spell out "Eliza" 

We begin with sticky shins make sticky then our shoes 
Shoes beget to clothes and hat 'til sticky's sticking too 

Finiculi finicula finiculi finicula 

Listen in as shin-kicked Jim relates his story sad 
About a boy who kicked until his shins were all but rubberbands

But now 

I know New York I need New York 
I know I need unique New York 

Still now you're waiting to grow 
Inside you're old 
Sew wings to your pigeon toes 
Put paper to pen 
to spell out "Eliza" 
Eliza 
Eliza

Subway Karma

Earlier this summer, my subway karma was ON. As I walked down the steps, the train would be pulling up. When I needed to make a connection, the other train was waiting for me across the platform. It was a lovely few months that I’ll remember fondly, because things have changed. For weeks, I’ve been missing trains and spending many many long sticky minutes on the platform.

What can I do to get back in the good graces of the subway gods? Drop a chocolate bar onto the tracks as a sacrifice? Give up my seat to a not-quite eldery person? Send me a sign!

Adult Play Time

I recently joined the gym and all my high school insecurities suddenly resurfaced. Who knew there were so many young, good looking people in New York to compare myself to? Well, duh, you might say – of course there are. I guess I just don’t normally hang out with them.

There are mirrors everywhere in the gym. So, I find myself scrutinizing my gym wear. Do I look frumpy? Are those girls looking at me because I don’t have the right uniform on. Are they giggling at the way my thigh fat jiggles on the elliptical trainer?

At least the little individual TVs on all the cardio equipment provide me distraction from my inner demons. I figure why not kill a few brain cells, along with those fat cells.Today I watched Clueless. Yesterday it was E! Online’s special on "serial daters". But, hey I deserve all the sugary, sacharine, horrible TV I can absorb while I bop along – right? At least I’m not eating bon bons while I watch it.

A grizzly tale

Went to see Grizzly Man yesterday afternoon. It’s a documentary that chronicles the story of Timothy Treadwell –A total nutcase, if I ever saw one. For 13 years, he’d go to the Alaskan wilderness and spend his summers with the grizzly bears. He named them all, talked to them in cutesy voices, and videotaped himself. Eventually, the line between man and bear became blurred and Treadwell was eaten by one of his "friends". But, not before, he’s able to film a close-up of a pile of poo and explain to us how lucky he was to be able to touch something that was once inside his bear friend.
Timothy clearly had some mental issues. But, I left wanting to know more about his girlfriend who accompanied him the last two summers in Alaska and died by his side. Nobody from her family was willing to speak to the film maker and we learn very little about her. We see her in a few of the videos and in a photo. She looks beautiful and normal. Yes, I think you can often see crazy vs normal in a photo. So, if she is normal, what the heck was she doing going to live with this nutter and his bears? I hope somebody is able to learn more and fill us in.

Despite my jest at him, Treadwell’s story is fascinating. And he filmed some absolutely breathtaking nature scenes that would be worth the price of admission on their own.

PS – If you didn’t know who Treadwell was or that he got eaten by a beer, I didn’t ruin anything from you. They discuss his death in the first few minutes of the movie.

Leading by example

The first post on a blog is quite intimidating. You want to say something profound.  Something that willl make people think you’re intelligent, well-rounded and interesting. Perhaps I should look to our illustrious President for an example. Yea… Perhaps not.

From BBC’s website:

While talk at the UN world summit was focused on
terrorism and internal reform, George W Bush appeared to have been
caught short.

And, he is said to have turned to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice for
advice.

"I think I may need a bathroom break? Is this possible?"
a Reuters news agency photographer caught him writing in a note to Ms
Rice.

Full story here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4249646.stm

I don’t intend to always write about politics here, but I couldn’t resist this.