Riding for MS

This October I am doing something I have never done before, I am participating in a charity ride. Yep, me, on a bicycle peddling for 30 miles, not something I have remotely considered myself capable of, but I’m beginning to see that there is much I can do to help other’s while helping myself along the way. Last year, my boyfriend took part in the ride and I went along to volunteer. Never having met anyone with Multiple Sclerosis, I was unsure what to expect. Would I see people in wheelchairs that couldn’t speak with me? Would the atheletes participating be like the men I saw riding at the beach, heads down, helmets to the wind?

Much like the 3 Day Breast Cancer walk that I participated in 3 years ago, I found that the day was filled with people from all walks of life, with a diversity of reasons for riding and volunteering. Some were there because they were avide bicyclyst, and just wanted the opportunity to ride a century (100 miles). Some had been touched by MS in their lives and wanted to make a difference through donations. My boyfriend has been touched by a courageous woman who raised her 3 children with love and patience, while MS raged through her body making the smallest tasks difficult. A wonderful man that I worked with at the registration table had MS and was doing this to help other’s avoid the treatment and care that he has faced since his diagnosis in his twenties. Moron that I was, I didn’t even realize he had MS until he pointed out to me his cane and explained his motives for joining in the MS fundraiser.

Sure, there were women and men in wheelchairs or driving little electric carts, suffering from a variety of aspects of the disease. What stood out for me was the smile and vivaciousness of one of the women with her electric wheelchair. Her sheer force of personality, her positive energy and outlook was so much stronger then what her body could or could not do with MS. It was inspirirng, which is why I’m going back, which is why I am riding and fundraising this time. I’ve raised over $700 so far, a fact I am very proud of. Think about donating, if you have a spare $5-10. Not to me, but to the cause. Here is where your tax deductible donation can be made, and if you do particpate, please let me know.

Strange Wine by Harlan Ellison

This collection of short stories I picked up at a wonderful little store in Santa Monica, CA called Every Picture Tells A Story. This is captivating store for children of all ages. It’s full of large watercolor paintings of favorite bedtime story characters, prints of Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendek, a contemporary print from the cartoon Boondocks, and many books from a variety of genres. That afternoon I was drawn to a large coffee table book of Ray Harryhausen’s work called An Animated Life. However, for the price of that one book, I ended up purchasing 4 books, one of which was Harlan Ellison’s collection called Strange Wine. It’s definitely a book that bends towards horror with a little mix of fantasy, extremely entertaining with stories that could appeal to a wide audience of people. I have to say that the shear fact that the author has another collection of stories called Angry Candy pleases me no end. The image that appears in my head of an enraged Hershey bar just entreats me to smile widely.

Prior to this collection, I had actually read Ellison’s screenplay for the Isaac Asimov tomb I, Robot. A wonderful adaptation of the imagery and humanity Asimov intended for his masterpiece (instead of that travesty with Will Smith). Ellison is also associated with my all time favorite comic book creator and author, Neil Gaiman. Ellison wrote and introduction to one of Gaiman’s Sandman series and I believe Gaiman has returned the favor. Brilliant minds both of them with creativity to create and populate worlds beyond my imagination. Luckily, since I cannot think them up, I can always grab a book by these authors and read about them.

Strange Wine is wonderful because the stories are so diverse and still manage to have the same creepy anticipatory feel that horror or mystery work should (in my opinion) have. The short story entitled Mom is definitely one of my favorites since it deals with a man’s relationship with his VERY Jewish, VERY annoying, as well as VERY dead mother. This one gave me nightmares for a week since I am Jewish and can relate to his plight making this work of fiction far too close for comfort. THE Diagnosis of Dr. D'arqueAngel was another fascinatingly addictive read in which a doctor injects her patients with small amounts of death so that they will build up a tolerance and henceforth live longer. This addresses both the fear of growing older and of the unstoppable force of death which we are all vulnerable to. The writing raises it to horrific level that makes us consider death not such a bad thing afterall. By far my favorite short in this collection is Lonely Women are the Vessels of Time, the characters are fleshed out and relatable. I will definitely be picking up another collection from Ellison in the near future.

Oh Deer!!! At the Hollywood Bowl

I must tell you about the most surreal experience on Sunday at the Hollywood Bowl. I am still in utter disbelief that it happened at all, but since my boyfriend verifies it, my eyes must not have been playing tricks. My boyfriend and I, along with a friend of ours were walking away from the venue towards where the buses are parked (To those of you who are familiar with the bowl, we were nearly to the parking lot right where Barham becomes Highland). Suddenly, faster then my eyes could focus the two people, a mother and her teenage son where knocked down in front of us, just violently hurled to the ground. At which point I hear someone behind me say, “That was a 10 point buck”. Darting away from the people on the ground with tremendous force and speed is indeed a huge male dear with beautifully pronged antlers.

The teenager has responded with alacrity. Thinking he was being attacked, he has arisen quickly and is looking for the person who struck him, ready for revenge. His mother is far more dazed, having taken the brunt of the frightened animals getaway and although she is not severely hurt, she is shaken and repeats to my boyfriend, “A deer?” when he explains what hit her with such energy to send her sprawling. Doubtfully, there is a lesson here. About the cohabitation of people and animals, but I am loath to extrapolate it for you. Since I saw no articles on the incident, I figured I would post one myself. If you were witness to this rather bizarre occurrence, please let me know.

KCRW Nights Continue with Reggae

Last night I attended the Hollywood Bowl, enjoying songs from groups I would not have heard of if it weren’t for this diverse, eclectic Public Radio Station. On the bill was Israel Vibrations, Maxi Priest, The Hepcats, and Culture. A tremendous conglomeration of both old and new Reggae artists, both traditional and bordering on jazz or hip-hop, all contributing to a fun, relaxed ambience of fellowship and love for the evening. Sitting next to us on the right-hand side was an older man and his wife and teenage daughter. This man was decidedly not comfortable with the goings-on around him as there were a pair of twenty-something young men semi-covertly smoking marijuana in front of him. There was also a small family of a mother with her 2 teenage sons and older daughter. They seemed completely at peace with the groove and funky flow of the environment. The elder man and his family left before the headliners took to the main stage, but he did not leave my mine. I wonder what would have happened had he let go of the judgmental shroud that prevented him from reveling in the loving nature of the evening. Was it the illegalities happening around him that caused his skin to grow tight and let its discomfiture seep into his every move? Or was there something more then the naked eye could see?

I’ll never know, yet always wonder.

DMB Concert

I went to my first Dave matthews Band Concert…wow, what an experience! There was a tremendous amount of energy feeding electrically between the audience and the musicians. It was one of the best concert experiences of my life, between the pure love pouring from the stage to seeing each and every expression cross the performers faces. We were 10 rows from the front enjoying the explosion of sound from the front house speakers. There were one song that just poured from Dave’s mouth with such sincerity that it captivated everyone: Grey Street. The band seemed to be humming with the loneliness of the main character of the song…aching with it in fact. Matthews has such an odd voice, somewhere between a growl and a whine. Animalistic, primitive in a way that is both exciting and frightening.

The last time I remember feeling that connected to someone onstage was with Danny Elfman from Oingo Boingo. I must’ve seen them over a decade ago in Northern California at the Warfield. This was pre-security days where there were only maybe 2-4 guards on the actual sides of the stage, so I was pressed against the apron of it staring deep into the blue-blue eyes of Danny Elfman as he sang to me, “If we don’t try to hard, we might start falling in love”. At which point he touch my outstretched hand and drifted back to stage center to finish the song while time stood still for me.

The two things that stand out to me about these moments in my life is seeing the absolute joy on the singers face and seeing the echo of that force of personality penetrating and entrancing the people seeing the show. The essence of spirit, of soul that unites the musical encounter. For a brief interlude you feel not as alone, as if there are no boundaries between your soul and those of everyone around you. It’s an realization of our shared hopes, dreams, fears, needs, and love. I have no doubt we seek out these communal events all the time. It’s why movies are so popular. The mutual expression of a vast dynamic of feelings.

Here's a funny article about Dave from the Onion.

Book Review

The Confessions of Max Tivoli by Andrew Sean Greer-Audio book

This book is quite possibly the most beautifully written book on the human condition that I have ever read. Greer’s writing is remarkably observant, stark, and spot on when it comes to the emotions people experience throughout their lives. From the joy of a first lovers tryst to the unexpected death of a best friend, the writing puts you in the crashing feelings of the moment with such realism; it is difficult to remember this is a fictional novel.

The story is this: a young child (Max Tivoli) ages the opposite of his emotional and spiritual growth. That is; he is a boy when his body is that of a man and when he is 50 he is in the body of a 12 year old boy. This character development serves to highlight how much old age and infancy are similar. It also serves as a backdrop to the 3 times Max shares with his true love Alice. Once he is with her as a father-figure, once as a lover and husband, and finally as a son to her. He faces the frightening aspects of life; being alone, becoming an infant, and love itself with beautiful inevitability which makes the life so precious.

There is a heartbreaking epiphany for our main character very late in the book. He discovers that he was the “great love” of his best friend and only confidant’s life. He, Max Tivoli, while loving Alice since meeting her, has been loved by Hughie Dempsey, who in turn was Alice’s “great love”. All of these loves are strangely unfulfilled. For Max it is enough to be the one in love, which strikes me as alternately selfish and naïve. Yet, it is also moving and compelling, as love almost always is. This is a wonderfully written book, I highly recommend it.

Book Reviews of My Most Recent Reads

I have been reading a lot lately, well if you count books on tape that is.

Into the Wild by Jon Krakaur (audio book from the library)

I know that the author became a controversial figure for his recent work regarding the Mormon community, but in this earlier work he does an admiral job of conveying a marginalized portion of society, the urban nomad. People who take to their cars, campers, trains, or hitchhiking to explore the vanishing American frontier. These was a captivating read for me, since I have mostly lived a straight and narrow existence and have little contact with those on the fringes of society. The sparkling way that Krakaur tells the story of Chris McCandless and his unorthodox adventures prior to his ultimate demise in Alaska makes me yearn to travel and see the world without the constraints of money, family, or responsibility. If this book does not put wanderlust into your blood then I do not know what would. By equal measure this is a cautionary tail as well. What can happen when humans lack the humility to carry with them simple implements that allow one to navigate the wilds (ie. compass, basic map, adequate water and food). The writing is sensitive and illuminating, I highly recommend this for anyone who has wanted to “drop out” of suburbia.

Filthy Rich by Dorothy Samuels (lent to me by a friend in my book club)

This book is a spoof of the 15 minute fame that accompanies TVs new reality boom. Stealing from Who Wants to Be a Millionaire fame, the heroine of this story is Marcy Mallowitz who is dumped on national television when she answers the final $1.75 million Lifeline question wrong on the show for which the book is named. From there the story only gets wilder as Marcy is courted by every big name newsperson and talk show host in today’s media packed market place. Marcy becomes an American sweetheart and her 15 minutes of fame is exceedingly light and comical. Revealing in the hilarious prose used to describe the “adults only” orthodontist who broke off their relationship while lampooning the instant celebrity of reality TV Dorothy Samuel’s expertly engages the reader. This is an ideal book to take to the beach or read out by the pool.

NPR Story Project

In my car I have been listening to a fascinating audio book called I Thought My Father was G-d. It is a compilation of tales written by everyday people for the NPR National Story Project. What makes this book so incredible is that it was a simple idea by someone to pool nationwide tales without pretense or any particular subject qualification and read them on the air. I’m so glad that I have the opportunity to listen to them at my leisure (my special thanks to the Public Library, a holy and incredible temple to literature and equality-since most anyone can obtain a library card). These small glimpses into people’s lives are at time joyous, painful, ironic, shocking, and magnificent. There are morality plays, passionate love stories, agonizing reflections on losing a loved one, and strange cicumstances of unbelievable coincidence. For a moment I become each and every author, taken in by the simplicity of the language. Seduced by the voyeuristic quality of the “I” narrative.

It is because of this that I’m looking at people a little differently. Wondering what small life experiences they would write about if asked. Or is each person waiting to tell their story and they have merely been unaware that there is an audience waiting with open ears to hear it. “Inquiring minds want to know!” With so many people experiencing life in vastly different ways, how can anyone not be intrigued and indeed captivated by this book.

My man can cook!

Woo-boy, he put together some of the best ribs I have had in my entire life this weekend. Pork ribs, of course, cause he knows how much I like them. I am spoiled indeed. Especially since this isn’t a simple BBQ recipe. He marinates the ribs in mango juice before rubbing them with spices and then braises them in white wine. They are moist, tender, fall off the bone good. He made 6 racks, 2 on Saturday, 4 on Sunday, and they were incredible.

And guess what he has marinating in the fridge for tonight? Pork chops! Mmmmm!

Update on Mom#2

Your prayers and good thoughts have worked. My second mother saw an oncologist who specializes in bones and he said that the type of cancer she has is EXTREMELY slow growing. Therefore he advised her completing the chemotherapy, but holding off on any further treatment (radiation or surgery) until and unless it became neccessary. Whew! This man has given us back hope and possibilities. How wonderful is that news? I honestly feel a thousand pounds lighter.

Personal Hero: Dr. Henry C. Lee

I am only 54 pages into my new book; Cracking Cases by Dr. Henry C. Lee and am already thoroughly immersed in the fascinating world of science that is used to solve crimes. Dr. Lee is one of my favorite people; he also has a highly regarded television show about his work called Trace Evidence which airs on Court TV. His method of objective fact-finding and dispassionate assessment of crime scenes is both dynamic and marvelous to watch or read about. He is a consummate professional in his work and his friendly manners in his TV Show mark him as a remarkable human being. That he has devoted so much of his life to speaking for those dead by criminal acts is a testament to his courage to speak the truth no matter what the outcome. This is why he is both a heroic individual and a compassionate man among men.

Forensic pathology has always fascinated me, perhaps it’s because I have a deep appreciation of death being part of the process of living. Don’t be deceived into thinking that acceptance of death as part of life means that I am any more looking forward to it then anyone else. My interest in merely clinical and I often considered going back to school to pursue my MD so that I could work in the Los Angeles Coroner’s Office. Being calm, detail oriented and not squeamish, I thought this would be an admiral job without glory, but much satisfaction. However, it appears that I got caught up in life and have neither the time nor money to go back to school. As time continues to pass, it is clear that I enjoy watching other’s do this job and related criminology work, their dedication and indeed the efforts they go to in order to obtain justice for those who have been murdered or abused is something that I can only imagine and admire.

This is the reason that Dr. Lee is a person I both respect and look up to. He is someone who shows a great deal of thoughtful analysis and unspeakable tenacity when faced with complex cases. He has testified in the O.J. Simpson Case, examined Laci Peterson’s remains, and worked on the JonBenet Ramsey investigation. He has a strong stance against spousal abuse and domestic violence, which I find honorable. I imagine he must have a difficult time working on such tragic circumstances, but in all that I have read about him he appears to cope well. It’s a difficult job and in many respects he is the perfect candidate to do the forensic With his PhD in biology along with his experience as a police officer his knowledge and experience go hand in hand. We need good people like this in the world to help victims of violence acheive some level of justice.

More books!

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowlings

Last night I had the slight displeasure of finishing Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. This is sad since now there is only one book left to read in the series currently available. This past read was very enjoyable yet J.K. Rowlings left me disappointed that Harry was unable to see the big picture. I think the book did a remarkable job exemplifying what it is like to be caught between childhood and adulthood. A time when adults do not give you the necessary tools you need to take care of yourself. This was a loss of innocence book in many ways and it was well written, especially when describing Harry’s conflicting emotions about his place in the world and his relationships with those around him. All together, this book presented a more grown up feeling for the three main characters and their friends. It will probably turn out to be a fast paced film, and so far it is my favorite of the series.

The Eyre Affaire by Jasper Fforde

The above was a Tuesday Next mystery, the first in the series and I admit, I was disappointed with the overall writing structure. I found the new world that Fforde created to be so different from ours that it was hard to take this books characters seriously even within the context of the story. Perhaps this is my deficiencies as a reader since I do have an enormous taste for fiction written about established franchises like Star Wars and Star Trek. No doubt, I will find that having the background of this book sees me perfectly prepared for Lost in a Good Book, the second book in the series. I’m willing to try it since this was if nothing else, an intriguing lesson in literature that has me re-reading Shakespeare and Dickens in my spare time.

Book Review: The Girl Next Door by Jack Ketchum

What a horrifically engaging suspense novel, yet tragically it is based loosely on the fact of an incredible child abuse case from the 60s. This is the third book by the author that I have read and be warned that you must have a strong stomache to read the graphic prose that depict such suffering. It’s s true testament to Jack Ketchum that he is able to construct a terrifying novel with such amazing facets of human emotion making his books truly engrossing. The Girl Next Door was at times sad, disgusting, perplexing, and thought provoking. I suggest it highly to those of you who enjoy true crime even though it is fiction based closely on fact.

Mr. Ketchums focus for this story is David, a 12-year-old who is the witness of an entire neighborhoods violation and dehumanization of Meg. Ketchum puts his story in a 1950s context where although the crime is no less outrageous the naivite of this period in America gives a contrast that shocks the reader into wondering how such heartless child abuse could happen with half the neighborhood participating or knowing about it. It is a wakeup call in many ways that these blatant horros could be happening right around the corner from your house or mine this very instant.

Sylvia Likens is the real life 16-year-old that was tortured and ultimately murdered by the woman who was suppose to be caring for her. It’s a heartbreaking case that is featured in the Crime Library. When her body was found she had over 100 cigarette burns and multiple bruises from months of torture by one adult woman and various children who lived in the area (some as young as 11). The sick brutality that happened in this case makes me wonder at human nature and I’m reminded of my visit to the London Dungeon which contains numerous instruments of torture from the middle ages. It’s depressing to find that people are still hurting eachother, let alone children in this fashion. However, I will remain unpolitical at this time and not make mention of the many violations of the Geneva Convention that have occurred in recent times.