Hey, You Guyyyyyys!

How else can you start a post about The Electric Company?

This week, one of our local PBS stations re-ran "The Electric Company's Greatest Hits & Bits", and purely by accident and dumb luck, I found out it was on--before the fact. The Electric Company was a six-season television show produced beginning in 1971 by the Children's Television Workshop, the same people that brought us Sesame Street.

It was an educational program designed to teach kids to read, and it featured some amazing people (Rita Moreno, Tom Lehrer, Zero Mostell, Bill Cosby, and Gene Wilder, to name a few) and some who went on to have amazing acting careers such as Morgan Freeman. Freeman's "Easy Reader" character (who reminds me now of WKRP's Venus Flytrap...) was classic.

I do recall that at the time it wasn't my favorite TV show--I liked Zoom much better--but it was one of the very few TV shows we were allowed to watch before dinner and so that was okay by me.

I haven't watched the entire program yet, but I was struck by several things in the part I've seen.

1. Having not thought of the program in years--and I do mean years--20, maybe?--I was blown away by how many of the sketches I remember. The Adventures of Letterman (narrated by Gene Wilder) still cracks me up, and Easy Reader was even funnier watching it as an adult. "I'm the plumber. I've come to fix the sink." Tee hee.

2. The show really was hip. They were so cutting-edge (though it looks so dated now!) I'm sort of surprised my mom was hip enough to be hip to what was hip in the early 1970s.

3. I'm guessing that a fair amount of my life-long love of reading, words, and wordplay came from this show. The sketches are funny and used a repetitive style, along with silly words and actions, to drive home their educational points.

4. Kids who are exposed to ideas, information, and humor "above their level" will rise to that level. Joan Gantz Cooney, founder of the Children's Television Workshop, commented that at one point in the early days of the show, they worried that kids "wouldn't get it", but decided to carry on, which was definitely the right choice.

Her comments made me think of my own and my friends' experiences with Monty Python's Flying Circus. Everyone I know who loves Monty Python discovered them at an early age--too early an age, probably. We got the slapstick and Vaudevillian aspects of the comedy, but the finer points, such as "The World Forum", a sketch of a quiz show involving Che Guevara, Karl Marx, Vladimir Illych Lenin, and Mao Tse-tung answering questions about English Premier League football were completely lost on a teenage American kid.

Lines like "Help, help, I'm being repressed!" were irresistably funny, though I'm not sure we knew why exactly. We just knew it was silly humor; I doubt we realized it was ironic humor. But we understood that it was cool and "mature" (in its immaturity....) and anything that concerned our parents was fine by us.

I think if you give kids slightly more than they're ready for, they'll take what they can and build upon it, as long as they're being entertained. TV that is dumbed-down is insulting and so much of what is spoon-fed to kids is terrible quality. The friends we recently went away with mentioned before we left that their 7 year old son was suddenly fascinated by Monty Python. M. laughed, saying, "There's no way he understands what it's about, but it makes him laugh." He particularly likes the witch scene in "Holy Grail". So, we brought some of our Flying Circus DVDs to the mountains with us, and A. sat as enthralled as the adults in the room, laughing right along with us, and looking at us curiously when a joke was above his head.

But he will get it. He'll grow into it. He's a smart kid.

I've been thinking so much this week about the impact this one silly little TV show (back to Electric Company now...) had on me and that it's sort of funny I didn't realize it until now. It's humor I want to share with my nieces and I hope they'll grow to love words as much as I do. And once they've watched and loved The Electric Company, I can't wait to turn them on to Monty Python.

Trainspotting

Welcome to our World Class City.

We have trains.

The new Southeast line of our Regional Transportation District's light rail system is now open, so of course, we had to go ride it.

While I'm excited that we have expanded routes available now, sometimes all I can do is laugh at how ass-backwards Denver is.

So, we get up on Friday morning and walk over to the nearest stop. We want to buy $10 day passes so we can ride the whole system and not worry about transfers or anything. Only problem is that you can't buy day passes at the individual stations. No, you have to go all the way to Market Street Station downtown, where the main terminal is, to purchase them. So we wait for four trains to pass so that we can get off at Union Station and walk two city blocks east to Market Street to buy the passes. And then we go back to Union Station....

And even if we could have purchased the passes at any stop, the ticket machines don't take plastic--cash only. Curiously, the ticket kiosks and information booths were all closed, too. Weird.

So, we're out riding and having fun, but it's getting to be lunchtime. Oddly, there's nothing with easy access from any of the suburban stations along our route ("Look! Chili's!"), but we persevere on. We decide to stop at Park Meadows Mall, one of the biggest malls in the metro area. We decide that if we can, we'll stop there and grab something to eat. We'd heard rumors that even though there was a train stop there, you couldn't actually access the mall.... We get to the stop at County Line Road and sure enough, you can't get there from here.

Picture this, if you will. We're standing on a train platform, and looking down a steep incline. The mall's parking lot is less that 100 yards from where we're standing, with the Nordstrom door maybe 300 yards away. And we can't get there because there is a tall metal fence, a steep hill, and a busy road.

The original owners of the mall wanted nothing to do with public transportation in what appeared to be a very classist response. I think the new ownership group gets that people who ride light rail aren't just poor people--it's all sorts of people, including people like us who would have easily dropped $30 on lunch and would have possibly spent a lot more than that shopping. But still, you can't get there now....

We decide that we'll walk across the pedestrian walkway--the one that takes you to the megachurch, doncha know--but will not take you to the mall. As we're walking across, someone tells us that there is bus service, but the next bus isn't for 35 more minutes. Uh, okay. We stop to look at the walk we'd have to do--heading north on the east side of I-25, under the overpass, and then south down the west side of I-25. Do-able, but probably a 20 minute walk. Screw that.

So, we get back on the train. We had one more stop to get to the end of the line (which truly is "the end of the line") and I knew better than to ask Nigel if we could just head back north instead. So, we went to the last stop ("It looks just like Upminster!"), complete with a lovely suburban gulag "luxury" apartment building, whipping wind, and nothing else, and waited for the next train, so that we could take another line east. We did find lunch, back in our neighborhood at Wild Oats--the only stop along this route with easy-easy access to food.

Then, we rode the already-existing line down as far as it would go ("Why?" "Because we can." "Okay.") and went shopping and for coffee. Ah, civilization!

It was a fun day, and it is fun being married to a trainspotter. Nigel is a very serious man and trains bring out the seven year old in him.

It's also great that our public transportation system is improving. It's nice to be able to get to more and more places without having to rely on a car. A few years ago, Denver embarked on one of the silliest marketing campaigns I've ever seen, telling everyone who would listen or read about our "World Class City." You know, if you have to tell people you're a World Class City, chances are good that you're not. Can you imagine London or New York doing that?

So, proudly, we're a little cowtown. And I'm pretty much okay with that. At least we have trains.

Happy Thanksgiving, Part Deux

In no particular order, here are some of the things (not everything....) I'm thankful for. Wishing everyone a wonderful day!

My family—every single, last crazy one of them but especially my nieces who make my heart burst every time I think of them.

Satsumas

Pro bike racing

Stoneyfield Farms yogurt

Hendricks gin

Challah

Nigel—I’m grateful every day that I met him in a pub in London nearly 13 years ago. He continues to make me laugh and think.

My friends, old and new, real and imaginary, who brighten my world.

Our four adorable and hysterical cats.

Paul Auster

Beck

John Coltrane

Ella Fitzgerald

Rosé champagne

An amazing career that has lead me to some amazing people and places.

An understanding and appreciation that I have “arrived” career-wise. I always felt like the youngster and the “new kid” but this last year has shown me that I am a legitimate book publishing professional with a solid reputation who is seen as an authority in my niche.

New York City

Willie Nelson

Vanilla malts

The gift of humor—that I can find humor in myself and others.

Costa Rican coffee, PG Tips tea, Candy Cane Lane and Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride (stupid name!) tea

The White Album

William Stafford

Colorado sunrises

A love of words and ideas

Netflix

Milk chocolate with almonds

Digestive biscuits

The gift of critical thinking

Onion and garlic pizza from that little place in north Denver.

l’Occitane’s Eau des Vanilliers and Fresh’s Pink Jasmine

Luca d’Italia and Les Halles

70 degree days in November (and flip flops in November)

Memories of Jason, Mark, Nate, Nanny, and Papa

Mint brownies

Democratic control of the 2007 Congress.

Happy Thanksgiving, Part Un

I read an article in Yoga Journal this morning about coping with family during the holidays. I thought I'd share some of their useful and thought-provoking tips, as my Thanksgiving gift to my Dear Readers.

First: Forgive and Reconnect

The point was made that as soon as we step back into our family situations, long-engrained responses and feelings are triggered. Try to view this time instead as an opportunity to reconnect with your family and to let go some of the stressful feelings. "If I'm sitting on all kinds of anger, resentment, judgment, or hatred, it's my heart that's all knotted up and contracted," psychotherapist David Chernikoff says. "Part of the spiritual process involves the understanding that forgiveness of ourselves and one another helps everybody."

Second: Intend to Accept

Set an intention, as one does in their yoga practice. Chernikoff says, "...[G]ood intention won't cure every complex emotional family drama, but it's a wonderful place to start. Ask yourself whether you just want to prove you're right or whether you want a heart connection with your sister, father, grandson, or ex-husband." Fostering acceptance of yourself and your family will go a long way in providing some harmony in otherwise-stressful family events.

Third: Bear Witness

It was pointed out in this article that it's during the holidays that often times our resolve and hard work break down, as do coping tactics. Author Laurel Kallenbach reminds us to create space for ourselves and provides some sound tips. She also states, "When all else fails, try to keep your family in perspective, remembering that each of us, including our relatives, has our own life and path within the context of our individual circumstances."

Laurel Kallenbach's entire article, A Family Affair, is here. It's worth a read--it gave me a much-needed dose of perspective and reminder as we head into the Thanksgiving weekend.

Under the Milky Way Tonight

We got home last night from a magnificent weekend in the mountains, with some old friends of ours. It's not so much that they're old, but that the friendship is old. Not in a bad way. In a very good way.

We've never gone away with D&M before and it was so much fun. M's parents are semi-housesitting for some friends who are out of the country. Every few weeks, someone goes down to south central Colorado to look in on the house and make sure everything is okay. D&M were going down this past weekend and invited us to join them.

The house sits on 35 acres in the Wet Mountains. It faces south/southwest with an amazingly breathtaking view of the western face of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. We'd only ever seen the east face of them before. "Gobstruck" was an understatement.

Once we turned off from Florence, Colorado we were mostly on dirt road and then we were exclusively on dirt road once we passed the ghost town of Rosita. It was another 20 minutes or so in, on windy one-lane dirt roads. Once we arrived, this is what we saw:


We spent the weekend staring off at this amazing view, walking, talking, eating, drinking, playing Uno, watching movies ("It's just like Santa's workshop! Except it smells like mushrooms and everyone looks like they wanna hurt me."), listening to coyotes howl (I thought they were sirens....), fixing the water filter so we could bathe, caulking, sleeping, reading, trying to keep up with a seven-year old boy and his six-month old puppy, and looking up at the stars. You've never seen so many stars in all your life. Out where we were, it was so dark that with all of the lights in the house off, we could actually see the Milky Way.

We take Colorado for granted and don't get away as much as we should. Traffic along the I-70 corridor is such a nightmare on weekends, but we forget there are other places to go--places that tourists rarely get to. Our weekend outside of Westcliffe was a little bit of heaven on earth and we both came home refreshed and relaxed.

Here are some pictures from our weekend--these are some of my favorites.

Le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrivé!

Yesterday was Beaujolais Thursday, one of the best holidays of the year.

Oh, I'm no big fan of Beaujolais; it's too young and thin for my tastes, but who doesn't love a day celebrating wine?

Beaujolais is produced in France of the gamay grape, and no matter when the harvest, it is always released to the world on the third Thursday of November. Now, one explanation I saw for this said it was because of Thanksgiving, but uh, since we're the only country that celebrates Thanksgiving (that I'm aware of, that is) on the fourth Thursday of November, that doesn't seem like a legitimate reason to me. Whatever.

Because it's such a young wine, it's often described as a great "transitional" wine for those looking to expand beyond whites. It's a great choice for anyone just starting out into the world of reds, as it's as close to a white wine as any red you'll find. It's fruity and you'll find it easy to drink.

I happened to be out buying wine yesterday anyway so figured I may as well grab a bottle for our weekend sojourn to the mountains of southern Colorado, seeing as it was Beaujolais Thursday and all. By the time we get through the other four bottles, the Beaujolais will taste just fine.

Nigel tells a story about how the day used to be commemorated with his friends. They would bugger off of work as early as they could and meet in the pub to drink as much Beaujolais as they could. It was a cheap, if not painful, drunk and who doesn't love slamming down bottle after bottle of plonk during the day with their friends? Ouch.

So, grab a bottle (slightly chilled is best) and some friends to enjoy this festive wine this weekend. Bottoms up!

"Wine is sunlight held together by water." --Galileo

Life, the Universe, and Everything

Last night was one of those wonderful nights; a rare treat when I got a surprise visit with my best friend. I was giving a presentation in Boulder, where she lives, and she came to listen--while emailing me from her Crackberry the entire time. The transcript is hysterical, including this bit:

"I'm in love with your whole outfit, and your voice sounds super sultry. I need a new watch. I am surprised you haven't said anything about me, by the way. I'm pretty sure the flier said I would be discussed glowingly AND at length. Perhaps I misapprehended it. I call guy in the back row, if we're forced to do one or the other of them, btw. Not sure how that would arise, but in the event it does, I want my position known. You do know a lot about all this stuff. Smart Kay! You're getting kind of gesture-y all of the sudden: what's that all about? I'm surprised you haven't told any jokes w/vague, racist implications--changing up your material, Miss?"

The rest really isn't for public viewing.

But anyway, I wasn't expecting her to come. Why would anyone who isn't in the book industry want to listen to someone bloviate about it for two hours? But I guess that's what best friends do. And then after we went out for an unscheduled drink, where we talked about life, the universe, and everything. It was wonderful.

Ann has been a friend of mine since we were 13. We've had a long and varied relationship--some very good and some very bad. A few years ago, we decided we just wanted the good and it's been fantastic ever since.

In addition to solving the problems of the world, we decided last night that we will return to New York for our 45th birthdays (we celebrated our 40ths there) and that we would be there for Bloomsday. We also confirmed our commitment to start smoking again at 60. We talked about her adorable kids ("The good news is that M can go to college anywhere she wants because P will be in prison"), our jobs, our husbands, politics, the hellishness of our 21st (don't ask) high school reunion, and so much more. We laughed our asses off and had some serious moments, too, talking about the joy of being overwhelmingly content with and happy in our lives.

So, pick up the phone and call your best friend. You'll both get an unexpected treat. And probably a few much-needed laughs.

Wishing Everyone

as crappy a day as Kenneth's.

This is just so unfair.

DAM, I Love You

I've got this week off work (yay!) and so I decided to take myself out for the morning yesterday to visit the Denver Art Museum, and specifically to see the Hamilton Building extention.

The Denver Art Museum became a lightning rod in our city when the North Building was constructed in 1971. The architect, Gio Ponti, creative a massive grey structure with 57 sides. As a kid, I thought it was one of the coolest things ever, but not all agreed. Today, it's not so controversial anymore, and just a few weeks ago, the expansion wing, the Hamilton Building, opened to the public.

The Hamilton Building, designed by architect Daniel Libeskind, is an amazing counter-point to the North Building. I wish I had photos that did both buildings justice, but you'll just have to come to Denver to see for yourself. I spent hours looking at walls (sans art...), angles, architectural features, and out of windows.

Funny, but most people go to an art museum for what's inside. I went for the building. Denver has a nice collection, sure enough, but we're no Art Institute or Metropolitan Museum of Art. I guess I've gotten spoiled in all of my traveling. We do have an amazing collection of Native American art, as well as an impressive collection of Pre-Columbian and Spanish Colonial art, both of which I went to visit. They own some amazing Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) pieces, but sadly, only one was on display yesterday.


My favorite area in any museum is the modern art. Mark Rothko makes me weak in the knees, as do so many other modern artists. DAM is no Tate Modern or MOMA, but there are some impressive pieces--housed in the Hamilton Building--nonetheless. I love texture and light and I love the way the moderns capture both. The Impressionist and Post-Impressionist areas at DAM are very small, but I have to remind myself that Native American (and Western) art is what our museum is known for.

I hadn't visited the Native American floor in years, and I'm glad I took the time yesterday. There are so many new, contemporary artists being highlighted that it was a treat to find a surprise where I didn't expect one.

Here are a few shots from my day. Normally, I love shooting on a grey day, but these buildings really need Denver's stunning blue sky behind them to do them justice. None of these shots are great, but you get the idea, I suppose.



And this last shot was taken out of one of the thousands of glass bricks in the North Building. It's a shot looking north to our State Capitol and the Denver Public Library.

What Can It Possibly Mean?

I hope this isn't a bad sign.

I taped the Jimmy Stewart movie "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" last night. I'd been lamenting the fact that I hadn't ordered it from Netflix in time for today's Election Day Geek-Out, but hurrah! Ted Turner saved me once again and it was on overnight on Turner Classic Movies, so I setup the VCR and taped it.

First thing this morning, while it was still dark out, I made coffee and crawled back under the duvet, with Alice, My Trusty Cat. I watched a few minutes of CNN and MSNBC, before flipping on the VCR. I'd never seen Mr. Smith before and was immediately sucked in. This is one of the most powerful and entertaining political movies there is--it's earned its status as a classic.

Somewhere, about 120 minutes or so in of this 129 minute masterpiece, the tape ended. Just stopped. Done. All full-up. Now, I'll never know if Mr. Smith wins the honorable fight against corrupt business interests, or if he and Clarissa end up together. Oh, I'm sure they all end up living happily ever after (it is a Capra film afterall), but what if they don't? Or, what if, on this election day, things don't end up happily ever after here either and this was the ominous sign? I don't think it had anything to do with the "LP" and "SP" settings on the VCR. I'm afraid it's a harbinger of the news to come.