Poetry: “Tell me” by Sara London

Tell Me
by Sara London

In my country
you say, “there is
no word for it.”
In my country
you say, “our
way of life.”
In my country
you might over-
hear the story
of the woman
with eleven children,
who never once
achieved orgasm.
Here, the diffident
are the squires
of conviction;
they know that
talking undid
a few people.
Here, a woman
saddened by love
might lose her
gloves, blame her
children, then find
them under her hat
on top of her head.
It is always
the mother
in my country.
Tell me
it is different
in yours.

from The Tyranny of Milk, published by Four Way Books. 2010.

This is her debut poetry collection.  Sara London who was born in California but grew up in Vermont, teaches creative writing and literature at Mount Holyoke College, and for the past ten years has been a children’s book reviewer for The New York Times Book Review.

Museum Musings: Rodeo Drive plus the “nice” shoes

"Tom Ford" store window

Question: Why did Mr F and I end up hobnobbing with the 1% on Rodeo Drive the Saturday afternoon before Christmas?

Answer: An out of town guest asked to see the famous L.A. shopping area.

My conclusion: There was no sign of a recession among those shoppers.

Window of a men's clothing store

These boots – covered with “Swarovski elements” – were in the Stuart Weitzman store window. Of course if you need to know how much they cost, you can’t afford them, so I didn’t go into the shop to inquire.

Stuart Weitzman boots

It’s funny how the mind works. Looking down at my sensible walking shoes after seeing those crystal studded boots I was reminded of an encounter I had in the Museum a few years ago:

Ten pm on a Saturday night I waited for the elevator to the parking garage with a group of well-dressed jovial people, who I could see had spent the evening at the fancy-shmancy restaurant at the Museum.

The three women, who were in their early thirties, were wearing sexy, black dresses which clung to their bodies and showed off much cleavage, and on their feet, sandals with crystals on the straps and unbelievably high heels that looked like glass.  I could see they’d recently brushed their long hair, and re-applied their very red lipstick, and from the giggling and flirting it was apparent that they’d had too much to drink.

The three men wore dark suits.

I’d been at work since noon on a busy summer Saturday, I didn’t need to look  in a mirror to know I looked a caricature of unattractive frumpyness…  Suffering through a period of bloated belly I wore a pair of pants with an elastic waist – bloody menopause! – a loose shirt with buttons that didn’t draw attention to my “bloatedness” and on my feet, my trusty Rockport walking shoes, which are really great for standing all day.  My hair? All I knew is I hadn’t brushed it since my shower at 11 a.m. that morning.

If I wasn’t so exhausted I might’ve waited for the next elevator. I stood at the back holding my bag in front of me in the hope that it was big enough to hide me.

When they got out the elevator on the first level, one of the men, a tall, dark, handsome dude, with his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder and hooked in his thumb, waved at me and said, “Nice shoes.”

I’m still trying to think what I should’ve said to him…

my "nice" shoes

I wonder what he’d have said if I was standing in that elevator in these five-toe shoes, which I tried on recently in a shoe store.

I tried on a pair of five-toe shoes

My thoughts on the shoes?  I could barely get my toes into the spaces,  I cannot imagine walking in them.

* * * *

Last week I met a woman – Noreen M – at my cash register.  After chatting for a while I discovered she went to the same high school as me,  and lived next door to my friend Leen.  She asked me to send you her love Leen. Noreen lives in California, and her sister Carol, who was our age, lives in New Zealand.

thinking about friends and ✔✔’s.

A full moon day is a powerful time for transformation and healing. I’ve written before about it being a time to plant the seeds for forgiveness, and to clear the path for creative thoughts.

Last night’s full Moon photographed with my little camera…

"Full moon rising over L.A. at 5:10pm on January 8, 2012."

 

In yoga today, after we’d done a meditation “to clear our Karma” our teacher asked how we felt,  and she told us she’d picked up that someone in the room – which was packed, we were sitting on the floor mat-to-mat – was supposed to have a bad car crash, but the energy in the room had helped clear it. “Drive carefully!” she said.

Sheesh.

In the car park after the class Linda was so delighted to see me (I haven’t been to that yoga center in a while and she hadn’t seen me in the packed room) she got out of her fancy-shmancy BMW sports car to say hello and hug me. It felt good.

While I drove home I thought about all those other people in the room, and why I don’t know them, and wondered why I (and the security guard Wazir), still don’t have many good friends in L.A.

Is it because people in Hollywood are so insincere and phony?

Perhaps we’re rushing around trying to do all those never-ending errands? (Another week and I still haven’t bought the plastic bottle to spray vinegar and soap on the lemon tree, my sweater waits patiently to be taken to the dry cleaner, but I did get to the car wash this afternoon…)

Or maybe we can’t bear the thought of driving across town through all the traffic just to have a glass of wine with a friend?  It’s much simpler to go straight home and drink wine in our jammies.

Or there’s simply not enough time to spare for friends. Europeans get four to five weeks leave. We get two.

Or long work hours. I rarely get home before 7pm each night.

Or is it a sign of the times?

• Most people don’t answer their phones. If I phone a friend, I usually get a text message back. The only calls we get to our land line phone are from strangers calling from a political party or a charity who say to me “Hello Mrs Freed how are you today?” to which I say, “solly, I’m the cleaning lady…”

• Have you noticed how many people on Facebook don’t do any more than click the “like” button?

I read a friend of a friend’s Facebook wall post last year. This guy wrote:

“I haven’t written for a few days because I’m devastated to tell you that my beloved wife – - – has taken her own life. Please give me my space, and forgive me if I don’t respond for a while.”

More than one person responded by clicking the like button. If you don’t know what to say, why on earth would you click the like button?

I’ve noticed too many bloggers are clicking the like button on posts and not leaving a comment. I don’t know about you but I feel it’s rude. We all want readers at our blog but I want “readers” not  ✔✔’s.

In an earlier post 2012! Blogging awards, and gifts for friends I mentioned sixteen bloggers by name and gave them each a gift for being my blogging buddy. I’d barely posted it when one of the sixteen just ✔clicked the like button without leaving a comment.  In our society when you get a gift you usually acknowledge it.  I waited for her comment, thinking she was busy and would come back later to read the post. She didn’t.  On Facebook there’s an app to “unfriend” someone. She didn’t unfriend me, she pretended to read, which is just plain bloody rude.

I shared this quote and the flower before, but have to share it again:

Gardenia (Photo credit: Priya, of Partial View)

 

Still in a way-nobody sees a flower-really-
it is so small- we haven’t time-
and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time

- Georgia O’Keeffe

 

nine Museum Musings: including summer weather in January, and more kids with long hair

facing west towards the ocean yesterday afternoon

1. “Why are we spending all this time shopping before we see the museum?” a little boy asked his mom, who ignored the question.

2. “What is this?” a kid asked me holding up a pen.
Me: “It’s called a pen.”

3.  “What’s your name?”

The older girl (in the photo below) told me her name was Aria, and she was five, and the little one told me her name was Daniel,  but I wasn’t sure whether she said Danielle or Daniella. To be safe I called her Danielle.

Which one is Daniel? Clue: Aria's five and Daniel's three-and-a-half

“Hi Danielle,” I said, “How old are you?”

“Three-and-a-half,” she said.

Aria was shy, but Danielle was a confident and friendly little girl and kept coming over to show me her pile of goodies. She liked the sharpener-camera, but was particularly thrilled with the wind-up flash light.

“Now remember son,” said Mom, “You can only spend $10.”

Son? Oops. Even though the kid’s hair was in a long pony tail, this cute little one wasn’t “Daniella”, but “Daniel”. A he.

Of course I couldn’t keep quiet. “He’s got beautiful hair. Is there a fashion in Los Angeles for young boys to have long hair?” I asked his mother.

“I don’t know,” she said, “Daniel had a couple of bad experiences with hair cuts so we just stopped giving them. It made life a lot easier.”

“Are you always going to keep his hair long like this?” I asked.  I had to ask her, because I knew you’d want to know…

“No,” she said, “We gave him the opportunity to decide what he wants to do, and he’s decided to have his hair cut when he turns four.”

“When is that?”

“At the end of this month,” she told me, “His birthday’s a Friday so we’re going to have a hair cutting party. We’re hoping to give his hair to charity, but there are specific requirements like minimum length, and I’m not sure it’s long enough.”

All this time Daniel and his older sister were shopping and ignoring us. After I was given permission to take their photo, Mom took a photo of the kids with me.  She promised to come back after Daniel’s had his hair cut. We all did the fist-pump handshake and the kids said a very polite, “Goodbye Miss Rosie,” before they left.

aw shucks…

4. About an hour later, I met this very elegantly dressed young lady wearing a hat with hair down her back, who told me she was five and her name was Vionney. I wasn’t sure how to spell her name.

Vionney is five.

“I can write my own name,” she told me. I photographed her while she slowly and carefully wrote it out for me. What a shame I can’t show you the piece of paper, or the way her tongue stuck out as she concentrated on her letters.

5.

I took this photograph at 8:15 yesterday morning.

With temps in the 80′s I knew he wasn’t on his way to work with a surfboard strapped to his roof-rack.

6. Two friends Suzanne and Jill both from L.A had a lovely day at the museum. They took my photo. I expect I’m on their Facebook page.

7. “She really does know how to cut the tag,” he told his mother after I offered to cut the tag off his raccoon finger puppet.

8. The traffic was very light going to work this week – many people are still on vacation  – so on Wednesday I used the half-hour as a gift and spent it in the garden.

9. Evan who is nine asked me, “Do you know that it’s the Chinese New Year next week?”

I knew that.

“And do you know this is the year of the Dragon?” he asked.

I didn’t know that.

Evan knew the difference between the Chinese dragon (all things good) and the fire-breathing European dragon who must be slayed, but he couldn’t tell me why in European stories the dragons are always considered bad.

I wonder why.

According to my informant Evan, everyone wants their baby to be lucky, so there will be many Chinese babies born this year.

I didn’t know that.

yesterday at 4 pm the sun was so bright, the ocean was yellow like butter

2012! Blogging awards, and gifts for friends…

Happy New Year!

Wazir

Wazir, a security guard at the museum who speaks several languages and was a professor of Pashto

[FYI The tribe's name is Pashtoon, the language is Pashto]

in Afghanistan, told me recently that although he’s lived in the United States for eighteen years he still can’t get a decent job, still doesn’t have a friend, and longs for the simple life of his Afghani village…

I sympathize with him. When I started this blog I wrote on my About page

Born in one country, birthed my children in another, and enjoying my middle years in a third. Now I wonder where I belong, who my people are, and how I can reach them…

After almost two years of blogging and three hundred posts I’ve discovered something I never expected, my people are right here, a click away, on my computer screen.

I thought when I became a blogger that I’d be reading a few blogs, but I’m following a whole bunch of them, and there’s a genuine connection and a friendship between us which is something I never expected, especially as we’ve never met each other, and some of these bloggers live so far away that it’s tomorrow in their homes, while I’m still drinking my breakfast coffee today.

And now during this season of gift giving, I’ve been honored with gifts from my peers. I was nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award by Jane, of nichepoetryandprose and the The Liebster Award by Melissa of HappyKidsHappyMom.

The Versatile Blogger Award is a way to show others how much you appreciate their blogs and to make other bloggers aware of some really extraordinary work

The Liebster Blog Award is given to up and coming bloggers who have less than 200 followers. “Liebster” is German and it means “Dearest” or “Beloved.” But, at the same time it can also mean “Favorite.”

*

To receive a blog award, especially one from your peers, is to me, the most wonderful gift of all, because it means the hours I’ve spent alone, writing for I know not whom has been recognized by fellow writers.

Oh god imagine if I was still only getting those nasty spam comments, such as:

“Nice to be visiting your weblog once more, it has been months for me. Properly this post that i’ve been waited for so long. I want this post to total my assignment in the college, and it has identical topic together with your write-up. Thanks, excellent share.”

and this one:

“Would you be fascinated about exchanging links?”

I thank you both most sincerely and with much humility, because you are both professional writers.

Jane, who is also a biologist wrote on her blog:   “I am the recipient of an artsnb Creations Grant for poetry.  The grant is to cover a six month period starting May 1, 2012 and is to write a poetry manuscript on ‘growing and gathering local foods’. “

 Melissa wrote: “I’ve been a reporter (television, print and online) for 13 years, and a freelance writer for many of those years. “

Awards always come with rules, such as thanking the blogger who gave it to you, passing it to other bloggers, telling something about yourself etcetera. I feel that all the bloggers I follow have already been given awards and several times already, so because this is the season of “gift-giving” it will give me great pleasure to give my blogging buddies a *G*I*F*T* with a single rule:  I haven’t met any of these wonderful people.

Firstly I’d like to thank my two buddies who gave me the awards.

1. This is for Melissa who has shared many stories and photos of her kids.  [I didn't take the photo. I just know it's taken in India]

2. Jane’s posts usually include a photo, a poem and a sketch.  It’s so interesting to see the bird and animal footprints in the snow, or at the bird feeder, or their burrow in the snow… Here are a couple of my photos

3 pm on Christmas day. Those aren't dogs in the path - they are coyotes and that woman found herself too close to them.

We found this snake skin lying in the path

3.  Betty, of What Gives 365 you were my first blogging buddy.

Roses

For 365 days you told us about caring, unselfish people all over the world who are doing something to help strangers.

Thank you for your generosity to those strangers.

The best way I know to thank someone is with flowers – I saw this arrangement of roses in a flower shop in South Africa when we were there last year.

*

Charles, of Mostly Bright Ideas you were my second blogging buddy. You can always make me laugh with your hilarious and carefully, crafted posts.   You wondered whether they have your favorite gelato at the GROM ice cream store in Malibu? Salivate no more….

Here it is: pistachio.

I photographed it through the glass so there’s a reflection, but I think you can still see the generous spoonful I bought for you.

Enjoy.

Heck, I even remembered to provide a napkin.

*

3. The next blogger is the winner of  my Reader Appreciation award.

The Reader Appreciation award recognizes your blog’s top reader by the number of comments posted.

Priya of Partial View, you were my top reader. I thank you for your continued interest in what I write, and how you notice everything, even the smallest little details I share.

Your posts make us think, but also give hope, and inspiration, and I love your photos, particularly your shots of flowers, and the views of the people living in your colorful country.

My gift for Priya came in the mail.

United States mail boxes

Earlier this year you included a photo of an Indian mail box in one of your wonderful slide shows.

“That’s a mail box?” I asked you.

“Yes,” you said, “Why do you ask? Don’t all mailboxes look like that?”

.

I’m glad to show you these three mailboxes (above) which are

a block away from my home.

.

.

Where I grew up pillar boxes were painted red like this one.

.

I found this lovely old-fashioned “British-style” mailbox in a tourist neighborhood in Cape Town when I was there in March 2011.

.

*

 the following are in no particular order:

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4. Val of Art by Val Erde thank you for your beautiful artwork, for sharing the wildlife around your home in Wales, and explaining so much about WordPress blogs to us. A few months ago when I heard that hummingbirds don’t live in your part of the world, I promised you I’d photograph one, but they are so quick they’re almost impossible to photograph. By the time I run to get my camera they’re half way to the Panama Canal …

hummingbird sitting on a ledge n Jo's dining room

This isn’t the best photo of a hummingbird that you’ve ever seen, but this little bird visited my friend Jo last week. It flew right inside her house and she managed to get out her camera and photograph it perched on the ledge in her dining room.

With her permission I share her photos..

hummingbird on the brass pot

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5. Mags at Magsx2′s Blog who claims to be an “average Aussi“, but when you read her posts you’ll always learn something interesting, this is for you:

“Joan of Arc may be the only person born before 1800 (with the exception of Christ) that the average westerner can name. The “person on the street” can say she’s French, died young, wore men’s clothing.

Try to name anyone else in history about whom anyone can call up three facts. Abraham Lincoln perhaps but could a Spanish or a Danish child identify his face in a line-up?”

“…. When Joan is depicted visually she’s usually slender and blonde, but contemporary reports describe her as short, dark and stocky. Whatever the reality, the dominant northern aesthetic since the Renaissance requires slimness and fineness...”

- from “Joan of Arc” by Mary Gordon.

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Mr F's paella

6. Cindy from The Only Cin I love the delicious meals you share with us in your posts, plus the photos of your garden.

I’d like to invite you for dinner chez nous: we’ll be serving Mr F’s famous paella.

Would you like red or white wine, or do you prefer champagne?

*

7. Linda of “The Task at Hand“ who lives in Texas, wrote about last summer’s drought:

“Still, dessicated pastures, disappearing herds, abandoned lakes and empty stock ponds make clear the continuing need for rain. Hidden behind these more obvious signs of drought lie other consequences…”

peaches at a farmer's market in Toronto

I only realized how serious the drought was when you told us that your friend shared her last bottle of 2011 homemade jam  at Thanksgiving, “because there just wasn’t any fruit on the trees this summer…”

My gift is a basket of peaches for y’all. I also hope and pray Texas has plentiful rains next summer.

*

Monty Carlo

8. Amiable Amiable of Big Happy Nothing, I don’t know your real name, but I know how much you want a four-legged friend in your new D.C home.

I’d like to share Monty Carlo with you.

He’s wearing his peace coat and sending a friendly wet kiss to make nice with your Mr Big Guy.

*

Christine Labourtine shoes

9. Amy of Soul Dipper, many thank you for your supportive comments all these months. You are also one of my top readers.

As I told you last week, I love your blog. I learn so much from the things you share and your spiritual wonderings.

I know you like to hike on your beautiful Canadian island, and I look forward to hiking together with you one day, but I know you also like your shoes, so I’m giving you Patty’s  ‘Christine Labourtine’ shoes. I don’t think Patty would mind

I hope it’s your shoe size  and that you like the color, and the cut out toe.

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10. This is for Otto from Münchow’s Creative Photo Blog one of the best photographers I know on WordPress. You should also get some flowers.

I took this photo of a flower seller holding a bunch of proteas in a Johannesburg flower shop, in March last year.

bunch of proteas

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State Street, Santa Barbara.

11. EOS of Earth Ocean Sky Redux. I also don’t know your name (and I don’t know what you look like) but I know your blog is rich with wonderful photos, and that you love photography, dogs, and Santa Barbara …

My gift to you:  Santa Barbara.

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Christmas Story Poster

12. for Darla over at She’s a Maineiac I was going to give you a box of chocolates, then I though a nice exercise video, but I think for the moment you need to sit down and watch a video, and as I know that A Christmas Story is one of your favorite movies, I’m giving it to you.

Oh goodness I almost forgot, am I supposed to share something about myself?

•  I know someone who worked on Christmas Story.
• I love chocolates.
• I don’t like to cook.

The Crab. 1869

.

13.  Barbara from By the Sea,

my gift to you is a painting by one of your favorite artists:

William-Adolphe Bouguereau

I love this one, it’s perfect for you

.

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14. For Sybil of Eastern Passage Passage who takes us and her dogs hiking all over Nova Scotia, my gift to you is two of our favorite hikes here in L.A.

Hollywood sign on the hill opposite the hiking trail

spring flowers in Malibu

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a Nativity scene

15. This isn’t a very good shot, but my son  photographed this nativity scene outside one of my neighbor’s houses on his iPhone specially for Georgette Sullin who has an amazing collection of nativity figures.

.

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Meringues, Turkish delight, cakes and cookies oh my...

16 Reggie of Grains of Sand I know how much you enjoy a cuppa tea with something tasty to eat while you travel around the Cape.

These delicious cakes were in a bakery in Johannesburg.

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My goodness this post is too long… If I haven’t mentioned you, or your blog, I hope you’ll be among my top readers next year.

If you’re still with me, I’d like to take this opportunity of thanking all my readers for following my blog, and to invite those silent Sams to come forward and say hello … I’d like to meet y’all.

Museum Musings: the disappearing middle class and the 1%

If you wondered why I haven’t posted anything recently,  this is our busiest time of the year, and I come home too tired to even think of writing.

Mount Baldy covered with snow

I worked in the main store yesterday.

• A few years ago if I said to a tourist, “I’m very sorry your card was declined,” I’d be given another card from a large stack in his/her wallet.  Now they quietly walk away, or choose one or two things, and pay for them with cash.

• Several women came back to return stuff, “My husband didn’t like it,” they told me,  (what they really meant was, “My husband says we can’t afford it …”

• I served one of the 1%. He paid for everything his family purchased with his black American Express card – it came to over $500 – and then he bought four bracelets at $250 each. He spent over $2,000.

• When Christie told me she was from Singapore I asked her what her favorite foods are: Hainan chicken rice; Chilli Crab; Laksa Spicy Noodle. I can’t wait…

• “I’ve been married for 36 year,” she said,  “Every Christmas my husband and I buy each other a book. So far we’ve only once bought each other the same book:  ‘Galileo’s Daughter‘.”

• After a Chinese tourist bought the Degas statue we had language problems. With some pantomiming I understood he wanted a box.

Degas ballerina.

Thankfully the statue came in a very nice box, but I couldn’t understand what he wanted when he said “Introduction“.
One of the women with him showed me a dictionary entry on her cell phone: “Booklet of directions.”

“I’m very sorry,” I said to them, “I cannot understand what you need. There are no instructions with the statue… You take it out the box like this, and place it on the shelf like this.”

I don’t remember how we eventually worked out that they wanted information on Degas, the artist.  I’d love to know who did the English “translations” for their dictionary.

she told me she's had nails like this for many years

I worked in the Children’s Store today. Most kids aren’t getting gifts no matter how much they whine and plead, parents just don’t have the money.

• “Oh look Mom,” said a little girl aged about six. “Here are some lovely children’s watches. Which one should I get for my collection?”
  “You’ve got enough presents for Chanukah. I’m not buying you a watch,” said her mom.
  “How much is this watch?” the kid asked me.
  “I’m not buying you a watch,” said her Mom.
  The little kid (I didn’t ask her name) took one of my books, put it on the floor and stood on it to show her Mother she wasn’t pleased.
  “Are you buying that book you’re standing on?” I asked her
  “I didn’t see it,” says she stepping off the book and putting it back on the shelf.
  Mom didn’t say anything.

• “How much is this pencil?” the little boy asked. When I said, $1,09 (the amount with tax) he said, “What if I buy just one?”

Museum Musings: looking down at men

It’s less than a week to Christmas. Those folks who still haven’t done their shopping are starting to panic.

This morning seven year-old Ethan said to his Mom, “No thanks I don’t want anything from this store. It’s Chanukah tonight.”

The first time I’ve heard a kid say, “No thanks!”

Louis XIV

About six weeks ago at the end of a post on women’s shoes,  I put out a call for guys to come to my cash register and show me their shoes.

A pair of miniature 18th century shoes for a display cabinet..

Matt's shoes are Italian - "Vibran five finger".

side view of the Vibran five finger shoe

I met Matt at the coffee cart.

“Those aren’t shoes,” I said, “It looks as though you’re walking about in “yoga” socks,”

He smiled and lifted his pant to show the shoe (in the photo above).

They don’t look very comfortable to me.

Neon blue

.

There were a few men in bright neon shoes at the end of the summer,  but I haven’t seen many recently.

Neon orange for her and gray for him

Michael's shoes are Bjorn

Heldrich didn't know the make of his shoes

Heldrich didn’t know the make of his shoes.

“My girlfriend bought them for me,” he said.

Jeremy's Florsheim "two-tone Bucks"

APC "Double Monk strap"

APC “Double Monk strap” shoes Jeremy bought in Paris this year, worn with J. Crew socks

Talking of socks, while men’s shoes may be plain,  I discovered the all important finishing detail is in the socks

these Henrik Vibskov socks from NYC cost $30 a pair

If you don’t know APC, it’s a French clothing store with a branch in Beverly Hills

A.P.C in Beverly Hills

A.P.C shoes for sale

What about women?

They are wearing everything on their feet, from running shoes to very high heels, to flip-flops, but most of them are wearing boots, beautiful leather boots, ankle height to above the knee. Stay tuned…

Sam is ten. Her Mom bought these Converse on line. "You can customize them there," she explained.

Christian Louboutin shoes

with the red sole

Patty made sure I noticed the red sole under the shoe, “Because it’s a sign of a genuine Christian Louboutin shoe.”

I think she said she paid about $850 for these shoes.

They are beautiful, but I would never pay so much for shoes.

An anniversary, an Aquarium, and a reminder

Mr F and I celebrated our anniversary with jelly fish, moon fish, sea horses, sea otters, sharks, coral, etcetera at The Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach.

Celebrations always include food. Ours, at the end of the day, came with a sunset view of the ocean, a bottle of Italian vino, too much loud music, and good things to eat.

sunset dinner

This sea otter was 'playing' with the kids

All the seals, sea otters and sharks at the Long Beach Aquarium were rescue animals each one with a dreadful story of being caught in nets, or having swallowed something plastic.

It’s a sobering reminder that  our plastic bottles and plastic bags are still ending up in the ocean.

The Guinness Book of World Records named the plastic bag the most ubiquitous consumer product of 2009, as it is produced on a worldwide scale by the trillions, just to be thrown away.

FYI I’ve written posts about

1. the “plastic soup” of trash floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
2.  plastic bags (only 5% are recycled in California)
3. eating ocean friendly seafood . 

I include a slide show of my photos, which were all taken with my little point and shoot camera, and have not been “photoshopped” in any way.

This is what lies beneath.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

If you haven’t been to an aquarium recently, you should go. Don’t know where to find one? According to ZooChat, there are over 50 in North America.

Aquariums in California:

Ocean Institute Dana Point California
Doheny State Beach Visitor Center Dana Point California
Birch Aquarium at Scripps La Jolla California
Long Beach Aquarium of the Pacific Long Beach California
Roundhouse Lab and Aquarium Manhattan Beach California
UCLA Ocean Discovery Center Monica Beach California
Monterey Bay Aquarium Monterey Bay California
Morro Bay Aquarium Morro Bay California
Sea World of California San Diego California
Aquarium of the Bay San Francisco California
Steinhart Aquarium San Francisco California
Cabrillo Marine Aquarium San Pedro California
The Marine Mammal Care Center at Fort MacArthur San Pedro California
Santa Barbara Sea Center Santa Barbara California
Seymour Marine Discovery Centre Santa Cruz California
Ocean Discovery Centre Santa Monica California
Six Flags Discovery Kingdom (formerly Marine World) Vallejo California

A view of a white spotted bamboo shark growing in it's egg with a hatch date of December

A special thank you to WordPress. I spent a couple of nights working on this post, pressed PUBLISH, and it disappeared. Poof! Re-writes are always improvements.

Maggie, Meryl, and Multi-tasking…

Last Friday night our friend Janet invited us to a Producer’s Guild screening of the movie, “Iron Lady“.

The Iron Lady poster

I haven’t mentioned it before, but one of the perks of living in Hollywood, is we get invitations to movie screenings.   What are those?  In order to get people in the *Industry* to see your film,  which is especially important at the end of the year leading up to Oscar time, there are free screenings for members of the various unions and guilds.  A valid industry card will get two free tickets to regular movie theaters, but I prefer the private screenings because they usually include conversations with the director, actors, cinematographer, production designer, costume designer, etcetera.

Before the movie started on Friday night a young woman went onto the stage to welcome us, remind us to switch off our cell phones, and then she said, “Please folks, we hope we’ll have your full attention so please don’t text during the show.”

Margaret Thatcher in her trademark blue suit

What?

This comment was made to a movie theater of adult professionals?  Oh, well…!

and the movie?

The Iron Lady is an intimate, insightful story about Margaret Thatcher, the grocer’s daughter, who broke through gender and class barriers to become the first female Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

I loved it.

I was entranced from the first scene where an elderly Maggie Thatcher with a scarf on her head, buys a pint of milk and is shocked at the price.

I kept wondering when Meryl Streep was going to show up. It took me at least thirty minutes before I realized I was watching Meryl, in what I think is her finest role to date.

I predict an Oscar for her, and if she doesn’t win, the Academy of Arts and Science will have to explain why not to me.

I also thought Jim Broadbent was an excellent Denis Thatcher, and predict an Oscar for him.

The movie was directed by Phyllida Lloyd, who was at our screening last weekend. She told us she’d also directed Meryl Streep in Mama Mia, that no one else (British or American) could’ve played Maggie, and how Meryl wowed the crew with her flawless British accent, plus superb portrayal of the Iron Lady.

The following trailer of the movie includes a clip of one my favorite scenes, one  where Maggie remembers she has a husband and children: “I may be persuaded to surrender the hat,” Meryl says, “The pearls, however, are absolutely non-negotiable. Denis gave them to me when my twins were born…”

 

Museum Musings: “Hair”, Santa and Mrs Claus

After my blog on 11:11:11 and our conversations on the musical “Hair”,  I’m now noticing females – both adults, and little girls – with the most beautiful long hair, and more than one little girl around age six or seven who said, “I’ve never cut my hair in my life.” Today I saw a woman and her teenage daughter who live “in the country in Oregon” with dread-locks right down their backs. (Eeww! How on earth can you wash or brush that hair?)

"Sima."

While I rang up a woman’s credit card, I noticed that her little girl had gorgeous long, blonde hair, almost down to her waist.

Patty

“My word, she’s got beautiful hair, what’s her name?” I asked.

“Another one who thinks …!” said the little girl,  going to hide behind her mother’s back.

I didn’t hear what she’d said, so I looked at her mother for help.

“Not a she, but a HE!” said Mom.

“Ooops! I’m very sorry, I made a mistake,” I said to my young friend, but I was talking to his Mom’s back, he didn’t answer.

His name was Bewley (a family name his Mom told me), and he’s four.

*  * *

Last Tuesday was a gorgeous hot sunny day with temps in the upper 70′s at the Museum,  so I was surprised – and a wee bit irritated – when I saw a couple

walking towards me wearing matching red fur-lined Santa hats.

As far as I’m concerned a hot day in November is far too early for Christmas cheer.

“Getting an early start on Christmas eh?” said I. Oh yes, I had to comment.

Mr just looked down,  Mrs said with a big smile, “Well, what else must one do when you have no hair,”  and with a flourish she lifted off her hat to show me her pink *bald* scalp.

hair right down her back

Oh god, me and my big mouth. “Hey that’s a brilliant idea,” I said, “The red looks so cheerful.”

She didn’t seem to take offense at my comment, in fact I think she was glad to have an excuse to talk, “Instead of wearing one of those very expensive, very uncomfortable wigs,  I’ve chosen to wear silly hats,” she said.

“Oh I like your style,” I said, “You look great   in your matching hats.”

And that’s when he smiled too.

I sat behind her at yoga. When she sits down her hair reaches the floor