Other Climates

I had forgotten. It had been so long since I felt the warm sun on my face that I could kiss the sky with my now unchapped lips. This is divine. Atlanta at 50 degrees is lovely and at 68 degrees it is lovelier. In case you are wondering why I am mentioning any of this, I am taking a week off from the winter to spend some time in sunny Georgia where my sister's family now lives.

The trip down here wasn't easy although it is never easy to get out of NYC. Like a black whole, its concentrated mass and energy and won't let anything or anyone escape. If you tried to take the Holland Tunnel on a Saturday you would know what I mean. But it probably isn't just the traffic or the long and winding subway-train-monorail ride to Newark that deters New Yorkers from a great escape. It is something intangible and mysterious and etched into our characters: addiction to deli coffee.

Our flight was delayed due to a few tornadoes that ripped through the southern states. But that didn't scare us. Well, who am I kidding. It was a frightening day to fly and I kept imagining that we would end up in Oz. The television at LaGuardia airport was turned down too low to hear and apparently none of the employees ever discovered closed-captions so we couldn't figure out why CNN kept flashing the word Katrina. Everyone in broadcast news is just itching for another disaster. At least they didn't drag Ms. Spears into news about the weather.

Still, we made it safe and sound and guess what? The suburbs of Atlanta aren't so different from the suburbs up north. They do have a few differences like the waffle house chain restaurant, lots of bbq eateries, and politeness. It is nice to get a dose of southern hospitality. Yes ma'am. New Yorkers are great, don't get me wrong, and we have plenty of reasons to approach strangers with caution. When we share a laugh, it is a hearty one. When we converse, we get deep into the meat of an issue. And the climate down here--I'll tell you what! But I'm still a Brooklyn girl and I'll put up with it as long as it puts up with me.

The envelope please. . .

I was going to write about the Oscars but I failed to watch the 4 hour show. In retribution, the gods of entertainment struck me down with food poisoning the very next night. Still, that shouldn't stop a person from adding their two cent thoughts on this overblown ceremony. Yes, it is nice for all of us to forget all of our worries and immerse ourselves in the world of glamor and fantasy. And yet, maybe we should just celebrate more winners in high style. That's the ticket! It could appeal to everyone and we'll call it something simple like "bravo!" Oh wait. That's taken. Hmm. How about "The Awards Channel"?

My suggestion for this year's lineup:

• Award for best use of the color red in junk food.
• Hair Style Awards
• Jury Duty Awards
• Most successful 747 landings in bad weather awards
• Procrastination Awards (it would begin an hour later than originally scheduled)
• Pet Trick Awards (because shouldn't dog shows be more like a talent show?)
• Honest Politician Award (Ha! Just kidding)
• Best Use of Real Tragedy for Good Ratings Award (open to all TV news and talk shows)
  

Lent in the Year of the Pig

I was just listening to public radio and heard the oddest thing. They were taking calls to discuss the different ways that people are observing Lent this year. Someone decided to give up eating pigs, or rather pork, because this is the Chinese year of the pig. The man is not Catholic nor is he Chinese. As far as I know, my local Chinese restaurants are still serving pork fried rice, pork dumplings, and the lot. So why the need to give anything up? I think that he just likes to be contrary. He probably wears plaid suits and only travels by unicycle or something. At least he reminded me to say Happy New Year and Gung Hay Fat Choy!

I grabbed this from a USA Today article "According to Chinese astrology, people born in pig years are polite, honest, hardworking and loyal. They are also supposed to be lucky, which is why many Chinese like to have babies in a pig year." Still, no mention of giving up pork.

Another thought- pigs = pork / sheep = mutton / bulls & cows = beef
Do you ever wonder what would they call humans if we were on the dinner table? I'd ask a tribe of cannibals but I'm too scared.

Raccoon Horror

Apparently rabid raccoons are on the loose again in nearby Staten Island. This borough may or may not possess the only forests left in NYC. (See how I don't need to fact-check?)

This reminds me of a trip to Costa Rica that I took a few years ago. My man and I were trying to combine adventure and total relaxation when we found ourselves strolling into the carefully cordoned off jungle trail near our hotel. Within five minutes we were surrounded by hundreds of raccoons. Oh the horror! Looking into the steely eyes of just one of these mammals as it lay in wait, well, that is the true heart of darkness, my friend.

You can't make out much in this photo but the glowing eyes are usually a tell-tale sign that you are being watched by those infamous creatures. C'mon. Don't tell me that you can't see the glowing raccoon eyes!

Zodiac Strikes Again

Another serial killer movie is on the loose, this time in the form of "Zodiac." It might be good. It might be dreary and difficult. There are a number of excellent actors involved and the music sounds great in the trailer. But, I am curious about the directer, David Fincher and if this true-ish story will turn out to be somehow lighter and easier to watch than "Se7en," which he directed in 1995. By the way, if we are in the habit of inventing a new language, this spelling would be just dandy but since this isn't a spelling free-for-all, it should be spelled like "Seven." What if I went around renaming everything with pictures or numbers just jammed into the middle? See the difficulty in this? The world would be in ch8os I tell you!

Still, I am haunted by "Se7en." If I just think of some of those murder scenes, my stomach turns. Although I loved some of his other work. "Fight Club" had its own quirky style of anarchism and humor and we can't forget his music videos with Paula Abdul. Who didn't love "Straight Up" and the one with the cartoon cat?

But that nasty movie with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freedman (he seems to love the genre) filled me with a horrible feeling that the writer was a demented psychopath. The filmmakers seemed to be communicating to the world that we are all capable of extreme evil. But I completely disagree. We are capable of bad thoughts and deeds but truly horrendous is still unusual. Even in the fog of war, it truly takes a sick person to initiate the most horrendous acts.

Or am I wrong? This Clive James article in Slate adds some food for thought.