Labour Day and compliments

Had a great encounter the other day. I was cycling home on Gerrard, stopped at a red light near the beer store; a poorly-dressed man with very long hair, clutching a beer bottle, was crossing the street. He stopped and said, "Not only are you lovely, but I bet you're intelligent."

It took me a moment to register that I'd just received a very fine compliment. "You'd be right," I laughed.

"I was at the Society of Economists conference once," he said, and I noticed that he, too, though bleary and not too clean, looked intelligent, "and they asked, 'How many fortune-tellers are there in the United States?' My answer was thirty thousand minus ten percent, and that is still the standard." (Or maybe he said three hundred thousand. Sorry, I forget.)

"Wow," I said. "That's amazing." The light changed. "See you!" I called, and pedalled off.

The world is full of stories.

It's fall, but still summer. That chilly snap in the air - sometimes. Never sure, when you leave the house, if you're going to boil or freeze. This morning, I wore my winter housecoat for a bit, and socks, and last night, going to bed, I actually thought of my heating pad for the first time in months. But I'm still looking out at full summer colour in the garden - hard to believe it will soon all be white and grey. I remember that guy who came not long ago to see the basement apartment. He looked at the astounding beauty of the garden. "Does all this die in winter?" was all he said. I knew then that he did not belong here.

Happy Labour Day to you all. I'm going to labour and have fun: work, go to the Y, work some more, eat, go for a walk in the rain, maybe watch a French movie I've rented, drink some wine and eat some more, and read, and write. I will have a productive day. Because not only am I lovely, but intelligent. The man said so.

"the sheer wonder of a successful workshop" - "a very specific type of joy"

This is A.L. Kennedy in the "Guardian," a piece on writing workshops. I urge you to read this and then to REGISTER FOR ONE OF MY SUCCESSFUL WORKSHOPS! See this website under "Teaching."

The article was titled The Real Thing, and headed, "At their best, writing workshops can show us the magic of inspiration taking shape." Yes, they sure can.

"...the sheer wonder of a successful workshop... Apart from anything else a good workshop can allow us to see – as near as we ever will – writers writing, writing happening, the thing itself. There are few things better than sitting in a room that is suddenly united in action, that suddenly has that tingly, ozone-y feeling of something on its way – of inspiration taking shape, of words struggling or plummeting or bubbling through. When we work ourselves, we're too engrossed in the process to really be aware of it. When we see it in others – perhaps as part of group authorship, perhaps in a series of solo contributions – then there are moments when we can actually grasp the ungraspable, when we can see a very specific type of joy: the way a face clears and becomes beautiful when it is absolutely focused; completely itself and yet open to something other than itself, touched.

... It occurred to me that when we write fully and honestly, when we speak from who we are, mortal human being to mortal human being, it comes down to this – that we sustain each other with music and dreams of motion, that we say who we are, that we reach out to the friend that is beyond us, out of sight – and this is perhaps defiant in the deepest possible way and is perhaps a type of love and is certainly very much alive and – I think it bears repeating – beautiful."

Beautiful.

@ home

I feel so @#$#% lucky to be alive sometimes, it makes me want to weep.

Okay okay, you've heard this before, though mostly in Paris. But now I'm home, and it's a perfect evening after a few stormy days, mild and sunny with a breeze. I just went for a walk in the soft dusk light, around the neighbourhood and through the Necropolis cemetery, where I saw an amazing number of robins, at least eight in one patch, plus a beautiful nuthatch, a small striped woodpecker, and a wild huntress, a sleek tabby with a white belly hunting for dinner. Not to mention my dead friends - this time I thought about Adeline and Norman, more lost names, and the tiny gravestone of John, who died in 1877 at the age of 3 months four days. All there under a canopy of huge, more than a century old trees.

Came home through the tranquil streets - on a holiday Sunday, even the distant Don Valley Parkway is quiet - and at home, I bit into a new kind of apple bought at the St. Lawrence Market yesterday, a ginger gold - my God, it's divine. And so I just had to write to you.

My son was just over for a bit. He is such a fine man, struggling, yes, at 25, to find his place in the world, as most of us did at 25. But a good, good man. He wants to set up a catering/party planning business. If any of you out there needs help with an upcoming party, he's your man. He's funny, relaxed yet focussed, brilliant at animating a room, with years of experience serving drinks and making food - plus his friend Doug who wants to do this too has taken hospitality courses, and you'd probably get Anna thrown into the deal, also an amazing cook and party planner. A highly recommended team. From an only slightly prejudiced source.

Sam and I had a take-out Indian lunch from Rashnaa on Wellesley Street, one of our favourite traditions, and then started to watch a movie I'd rented, "Cairo." But he was texting the entire time and just couldn't take it - it's a slow, sweet chick flick. Off he went, taking all that humour and energy back to the other side of town. And I went for a walk.

Last night I got free tickets so took my neighbour Monique to see "Love, Loss and What I Wore," the show Nora Ephron and her sister put together. I wasn't expecting much, and to tell you the truth - and when have I ever done otherwise? - it was even more flimsy and shallow than expected. A bunch of tidbits, not a meal - a lazy evening of writing, made possible by the energy and commitment of a bunch of talented actresses. Especially offensive was the fact that they'd made almost no effort to make the show relevant to Canadian audiences, with references to American stores and traditions that are meaningless here, and suddenly a confusing mention of the Habs thrown in to make us feel good. At home after, I wrote to all my friends in the theatre - Why aren't we rich? Let's put together a show about our favourite underpants and get rich.

Sigh.

Time for more apple, a glass of wine, a piece of corn from the market. No one is hammering or sawing right now, only the sparrows twittering their evening twitter in the ivy and the neighbours playing with little Juliette, who's 2. Earlier today, the crabby cat actually climbed into my lap and stayed there for a few minutes; it's as if she's practising how to be a cat.

Praise be, praise be for small mercies, and for home.

PS. These blog posts are now being spammed. I keep thinking a faithful reader is writing to share some comment, but it's spam. I'll have to figure out how to keep them out. In the meantime, let's just ignore the creeps.

good muggy Friday

I don't know why I'm feeling so bloody cheerful. The day is dank and overcast, and earlier it poured. I've just done my finances, and am as usual far in the red. How to make more money, is the question, along with how, thrifty as I am, to avoid spending as much ... The basement suite is now occupied, someone is moving in upstairs on Nov. 1, so my job as a landlady is on again. But ye gods, a freelance teacher has almost no income all summer long. I could use a good, solid paycheque. No, royalties or an advance from the great new book I've finished.

Which I have not, not even close.

So to cheer myself up in my destitution, I went shopping - to Shopper's, where I bought a new lipstick for $10.99. That always does the trick. Then, I met my dear friend Penny. Penny makes beautiful necklaces, and she made two for me, for $20 each. They're supposed to be presents for my friends, but I confess they're so lovely ...

So here's the woman who's moaning about being broke spending $50 instantly on lipstick and necklaces. 'Twas ever thus. And yesterday I had a haircut, much needed but expensive - except that my long-term hairdresser Ingrid gave it to me as a birthday present. I realized today that the friend who does my taxes has not yet sent his bill. How grateful I am to the friends who help me through.

Highly recommended, as mentioned before: Jane Mayer's superb article in last week's "New Yorker" about the reclusive Koch brothers, the billionaires who have funded many secretive far right-wing organizations, disguised under generic, nice-sounding names. "Citizens for Prosperity," and others like it, have as their main job to undermine everything Obama tries to do, to smear the left, and to trumpet the Koch agenda, which is anti-corporate income tax, of course, but also anti any environmental protection, since the Koch's industries are among the country's biggest polluters.

And all those idiot Tea Partyers, who don't realize they're being manipulated by some of the richest men in the country, the Kochs and Rupert Murdoch - it is to weep.

But I won't weep, because I'm cheerful today, with a haircut, a new lipstick and two new necklaces. And I had a nice chat with the man who sits in a little golfcart with a long elephant hose nose, sucking up garbage. I thanked him for the job he does on my street, cleaning up after the people who toss their detritus about. He was cheerful too.

And last, I went to the Y, not to my usual lunchtime Runfit class but to the earlier one, Muscleworks, because of my schedule today. At the end of the class, I thanked the teacher for a great class. She peered at me. "You're Runfit, right?" she said, and I laughed. "Yes, I'm Runfit," I said.

Beth "Runfit" Kaplan, poor but happy today.

P.S. And there are peaches.

sign the petition against Fox News North

Well, guys, it doesn't get much more important than this. If you have an inkling of the vileness of Fox News, the level of hatred and vitriol routinely spewed at anyone who doesn't follow their extremely right-wing fundamentalist party line - recently Glenn Beck, aka the scum of the earth, imitated and made vicious fun of Obama's 11-year old daughter Malia - if you know how far that "news" station, funded by billionaire Rupert Murdoch, has debased and skewed discourse in the United States - then you too will sign this petition to stop the importation of a similar channel to Canada. Our dear Prime Minister is working hard to bring it here. Quelle surprise.

We must stop him. This is a letter from Avaaz.org, which is spearheading this fight. Please please please please sign, and forward the petition to everyone you know. Thank you.

Dear friends,

Prime Minister Harper is trying to push American-style hate media onto our airwaves, and make us all pay for it.

His plan is to create a "Fox News North" to mimic the kind of hate-filled propaganda with which Fox News has poisoned U.S. politics. The channel will be run by Harper’s former top aide and will be funded with money from our cable TV fees!

One man stands in the way of this nightmare -- the Chairman of Canada's Radio and Telecommunications Commission Konrad von Finckenstein. He's rejected the plan as a violation of CRTC policies, so now Harper is trying to get him out of the job. Let's urgently send a massive wave of public support to von Finckenstein, with 100,000 Canadians encouraging him to keep standing up for Canada, and standing firm against Harper's pressure. Sign the petition below and forward this email to everyone -- we'll publish full page ads in Canadian papers when we reach 100,000:

http://www.avaaz.org/en/no_fox_news_canada/97.php?cl_tta_sign=59ed28c518a54143ad73290cdec6f081

Harper hatched his scheme in a secret lunch last year with media-mogul Rupert Murdoch, the owner of Fox News. Harper's top aide Kory Teneycke also came to the lunch, and then left the government to head up Suncor Newspapers and the new "Fox News North".

Fox News fuels hate. While constantly claiming to be “fair” and “balanced”, it allows hysterical anchors like Glenn Beck to compare Obama to "Lucifer" and "Hitler". Bill O’Reilly, another anchor, has threatened to boycott Canada, and Anne Coulter says Canada is “lucky the US allows it to exist on the same continent.” The network has calculatingly spawned the tea party movement in the US, a mobilisation of the fringe right which threatens violence upon its opponents and wears guns to political rallies.

This is a fight for the soul of Canadian democracy. Our media is not perfect, but a ‘news’ network that slavishly serves a political agenda through mass manipulation and fear threatens the fabric of our democratic society.

The CRTC is part of our democracy -- it was made an independent commission precisely in order to protect against this kind of government manipulation of the media. Harper knows that he must bully his way through this institution in order to create Fox News North. And there are dark rumours in Ottawa that if von Finckenstein will not leave his job, Harper will simply force him to give in. Von Finckenstein is upholding the best tradition of Canadian democracy and civil service in the face of a full scale attack on that tradition. Let's show him, and Harper, that Canada stands with him.

"Fox News North" is Harper's long term strategy to make radical conservatism the political centre in Canada, tearing down the country we love to make us look like the U.S. Thankfully, Konrad von Finckenstein and the CRTC are standing in his way -- let's stand with them.

With hope,

Ricken, Emma, Iain, Laryn and the rest of the Avaaz team