the magic of Jacob Collier

And now for something completely different: do yourself a favour, put down your chores or the newspaper or paintbrush or cleaver or whatever. And watch this doc about one of life's blessed, the immensely talented, joyful young musician Jacob Collier. His mother and two sisters are also radiant and beautiful. 

Sometimes life's lucky ones are those who just know, very early, what they are and what they must do. One of my son's high-school friends was expelled from several schools for constantly drawing graffiti on the walls. He went to art school and now is a wealthy and successful film animator. He just knew. Often young writers just know. I did, though I also wanted to act and was good enough at it, had to get that out of my system first. 

But ye gods, the positive energy of this young man could illuminate a large city. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERvd5QjupSU 

Enjoy. Be inspired. "Creative infinity syndrome.""The music will always give me the answers that I need." May that never stop, Jacob. May that never stop.

So many motherf*ckers!

 Realized in the night – I have to stop scrolling. I have to shut the door to the addictive madness of American politics, which has wasted countless of my precious hours. Ontario politics are bad enough these days, and I can’t shut those out completely, especially with the disgusting, profoundly undemocratic Bill 23 going through and a CUPE school strike coming Monday. 

           But I do not want to read another word about Trump or DeSantis or Mitch or MTG or any of that parade of truly vile human beings. It is sullying my life. To quote the pithy words of my friend Janet, who says often on Twitter, "So many motherfuckers!" 

            I read the Star in the morning and listen to CBC news on the radio and will continue to do so, and later in the day, I check the NYT and sometimes the Globe or the Guardian. I can’t stop finding out briefly what’s going on in the world. But I’ve given reprehensible people too much space in my head. 

            Perhaps this retrenchment is provoked by the snow. Suddenly, in seconds, our beautiful hot autumn ended and it's winter here, lots of snow, trees in the yard bent over with ice. It’s here already, the long dark time, and so it’s harder to countenance the cold darkness of the human heart. 

            In the meantime, however, the little refugee family has moved in downstairs, glad to have space to unpack and be at home, if only for two and a half weeks. How I wish I could offer more. She left everything behind in Kyiv, home, work, her son’s father, to flee an unforgivably unjust war that her mother here supports. And yet she’s cheerful and beautiful, going to English classes every day. Her resilience and stubborn courage, an example to us all. 

                And now, to cheer you up, the wise, lovely face of my third grandson, the hairy one. Turn off those machines, my friends, and go play with a dog.

          

My will is in the file drawer marked "Life"

Wow, that was fast! A few days ago Torontonians were wearing shorts, and today, there's a thick blanket of heavy wet snow. As a woman said to me, walking where I'd just shovelled, "Heart attack snow!" Let's hope not.

Though in the spirit of that, I just sent my daughter a list of where all my valuable documents are stored, including my will, the printout of my computer passwords, and all the files on the house, and that after I die I'd like a big party in the garden with lots of music and people saying nice things about me. l'm not intending to die anytime soon, but this is, after all, heart attack snow.

I teach tonight so am about to have my pre-teacherly nap. But first - the joys of Sunday night TV. 60 Minutes had a segment on the YIVO, the centre for Jewish research which was my go-to in New York for the Jewish Shakespeare. YIVO started its archives in Vilna; during the war, Nazis tried to obliterate the collection, but much was hidden and preserved, at great personal risk, by Jews there and even by a Catholic priest. Hooray for archives, archivists, librarians! What would we writers do without them?

Then a doc on the brilliant Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite's new work with the National Ballet, Angels' Ashes, and then back to trusty PBS for Magpie Murders and Annika, both terrific. Magpie is particularly fun, about an editor who becomes embroiled in investigating the murder of a best-selling author whose characters, almost all based on real people in his life, come alive for her. 

At 11, if I have the energy, I watch John Oliver's Last Week Tonight, though often he's just too vehement and it's too late for me. It was about the Royal Family, their abject ignoring of their colonial sins. 

For we who live alone, good television is a companion. I am so old that I pay for the TV guide and go through it with a pen. Yes. A dinosaur. 

Happy to report that tomorrow, when current tenant Carol moves out of my basement apartment, I'm able to offer it to Ukrainian refugees for two and a half weeks, until the next tenant moves in. Natalie and her ten-year old son fled Kiev early in the war; her mother lives here and is a friend of Monique's next door. But her mother supports Putin and lives in a small apartment, so Natalie needs to find somewhere for herself and her boy. I wish I could offer more, but at least they'll have autonomy for a bit. They will however have to listen to me butchering the Moonlight Sonata on the piano, but then everyone who lives downstairs has to put up with that.

Sam just texted that as he walked home from work, twice he passed old ladies pushing snow with a broom, and borrowed a shovel to do their walks for them. My good deeds boy. I sent him this picture, saying, since he's now a teetotaller, obviously he'll have luck with the ladies.

Have to say, objectively, that my handsome son has always had lots and lots of luck with the ladies. Though definitely not ones as stern as these. 

Nap time.

celebrating Joe Biden

The weather has turned, at last, after those miraculous weeks of heat. It's fall. I turned on my gas fire yesterday and am switching to a warmer coat.

 Where I will spend the next six months.

On Thursday, Anna left her phone on the bus. All her passwords were on her phone; she had no access to her computer or anything else, and we had no access to her. She borrowed a friend's phone for a few hours and asked me to get the boys after school, as on top of everything a colleague was sick and she'd have to work late. So Sam and Bandit and I did. Only these boys are monosyllabic. "How was school?" "Good." I tried to engage - managed to find a book that interested them for a bit - 

- the wolf is listening too, the cats were hiding in the bedroom - 

We had take-out pasta for dinner, and then - video games. It made me sad. I sat on the sofa while Ben was in his room and Eli in Anna's, playing their games.

I understand, they'd had a busy day of school and playing. I could have dragged them into a board game or even watching a movie together but just left them to it. Anna was furious when she got home; they're not allowed to play video games during the week. 

Our machines are addicting. Phones, computers, video games. On my way home I wanted to tell Anna something and realized - I can't! No phone. How will we get in touch, how will we talk? Desperate. Luckily, her phone was turned in to the TTC lost and found, and next day, she was texting again. So glad to hear from her. We are all addicted. 

Addicted to watching Elon Musk implode, along with the orange blowhole and the entire Republican party. What a hugely important week for our planet. Has there ever been a politician as underestimated as Joe Biden? A huge weight has been lifted. Democracy survives to fight another day. A semblance of sanity is returning to that country. At least, for now, but perhaps this signals a shift, not a descent further into violence and madness, but a return to something resembling civilization - decency and good sense. Perhaps? 

Bravo, Joe. Thank you. 

Report from the American front lines

My cousin Barbara was at a Bethesda, Maryland, polling station much of Tuesday; her husband Dan was there all day. Here's what she wrote, giving more hope for civil society and democracy. Yes indeed, thank you to the volunteers who keep things like this going!

We had a really good experience working at the polls yesterday. The system is struggling with a shortage of volunteers, so we had a skeleton team and only one chief judge (instead of the usual two) to man 3 electronic pollbooks checking people into the system, two ballot marking devices, the ballot issuing table and two scanners, also doing same day registration of new voters and handling provisional voting (mostly of people who lost their mailed ballots or just thought it would be easier to come in person - a paperwork headache for everyone to ensure that they couldn't vote twice).   

The only bad moment was when a woman Dan checked in said (when he offered her a pen to sign her voter affirmation card) "You probably don't want me to use your pen - I have covid!"  Eeek.

But our team of 7 did a great job with a high voter turnout - almost 900 voters in a continuous stream of people all day long.  I only had to work from 6 am to 3 pm before my reliever came in, but Dan was there from 6 am to 9 pm.  

It was surprisingly inspiring to see how a group of 7 complete strangers could work together seamlessly, stepping in to help each other wherever backlogs started to appear - no prima donnas. All managed by a great chief judge (a remarkably calm, funny, and competent, Republican, middle-aged Catholic woman who had home-schooled her 3 college-age children). It gives you faith in the system.  Many people thanked us profusely for volunteering - a heart-warming, though utterly draining day.