Being and Nothingness

As there is nothing happening on this blog at the moment, I recommend you read the following excellent blogs. After all, that's what I'm doing instead of writing my own.

www.augustbell.blogspot.com
(An account of one young swami's adventures in yoga. Okay, she's not a swami, but she's totally an adventure queen).

www.megcabot.com
(The most entertaining teen author blog I've read).

www.mightygirl.com
(Wonderful dry wit. Try it, you'll like it. I think this is actually a very well-known blog and it should be.)

www.joshcagan.com
(Very, very funny blog. Well written and entertainingly rude.

Here's Josh Cagan on Paris Hilton:

"Everyone's falling over themselves to do what they think is in her best interest, and chances are she has NO OPINION WHATSOEVER. It's like watching a divorced couple battle over custody of the Pomeranian. It's all about ulterior motives and personal projection. The dog just wants to drink water out of the toilet."

That's why Joshcagan.com is a famous blog.

I'm new to the blogosphere... so much to discover!

RE:

Re: Fitness Program
All I have to say is: cheesecake. More dangerous than it might at first appear.

Re: Reading
I just finished Mark Salzman's The Soloist. It was wonderful and I am looking forward to reading the rest of his work.

Re: "Development"
Any chance we could leave the few untouched areas in this world alone and instead RE-develop some of the areas we've already destroyed?

A Day Late and a Dollar Fifty Short

There's been a setback. James has more or less joined me on my quest for physical perfection. And all was going well yesterday. We had a healthy breakfast, good workout, healthy dinner. And then: disaster! We started watching America's Next Top Model (my eyes were hurting from reading War and Peace) and we got a bit... hungry. Maybe it was watching all those half-starved girls bitch at one another. So we drove down to the local cinema and I stood in line for about half an hour (it's a good thing we weren't there to see a movie or I'd have been pissed) and bought a large, butter-drenched bucket of popcorn, which we took home and watched in front of Total Recall and a UFC fight (you know, because I was so exhausted from reading War and Peace).

Like I said before, this new fitness program isn't a diet or anything. But even if we worked out 5 hours per day, I don't think there's any getting around the fact that movie popcorn is like liposuction in reverse. We might as well be injecting fat. So now all our incredible muscles (I suppose I should just speak for myself) are covered in a layer of movie popcorn fat.

Here's a thought: what if I gain weight from muscle AND from fat? Has anyone considered this possibility? I am never going to look like Linda Hamilton in the Terminator at this rate. And no, I'm not a big fan of California's new governor's work. It's just that when one is thinking about muscles, he comes to mind.

Oh well, today is a brand new day. Today I'm going to follow my new fitness program.

Damn.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

I have finally come up with a New Year's resolution. I was approached by a friend (who is also a personal trainer) as I was working out the other day. He very kindly suggested it was time for me to update my workout program.

Apparently for some weeks he has been watching my routine, which I would characterize as persistent but flailing, and he decided I need some help.

At risk of sounding like Bridget Jones, I now have a goal! I'm supposed to see a revolution in my physique and fitness level by April. And the best part is I don't have to count calories: a good thing because my math skills are weak. Nor do I have to go on some special diet. I flat out reject any plan that might interfere with my olympic-calibre eating regime.

No, all I have to do is switch around a few things, do my weight workouts first and STOP READING ON THE TREADMILL! That's right. Apparently the body doesn't take to multi-tasking the way my head does. The problem is that the entire reason I go to the gym has been taken from me. Because the truth is I didn't go the gym to get fit. I went there to read Us Magazine without paying for it.

The goal is to lose one pound of fat a week, which I will eventually replace with muscle.

The mere thought of magazine-less workouts terrifies. All I'll have to do is be alone with my thoughts or watch incredibly fit people who probably wouldn't see the benefit of a diet composed of 90% refined carbs and 10% coffee. (I call it the Anti-Atkins, Almost Vegetarian Pasta-Lover's Diet and I neglected to tell my trainer friend about that part of my personal fitness program.) I bet I'll be replacing those pounds of fat with sheer angst: me alone with my thoughts on the treadmill. Could there be anything less entertaining?

Will this go the way of resolutions from years past? I'll keep you posted.

With Reference to My Last Mixed Tape

"... If your cassette collection had too many other nonmetal artists, you were bordering on one of those goddamn eclectics who really didn't love anything. One of my primary theories as a junior high kid was that people who claimed to like every genre of music were liars and hypocrites; they lacked backbone. I never trusted open-minded people."

-- Chuck Klosterman, Fargo Rock City

Disclaimer

Here's what I had to say today to another dog owner in reference to Frank (see opposite):

"He's anti-social, but not violently so."

The other dog, a friendly, typically doggy sort, did not seem to realize that Frank is special. Frank doesn't care to mingle. Not even to sniff. Whenever he sees another dog coming he quickly retreats to the side where he regards the interloper with a mix of concern and disdain.

If the dog dares approach, Frank pretends he doesn't notice, like maybe if he doesn't look (he/she/it) will just go away already. When he's wearing an outfit, like his new yellow slicker with hood, his hauteur becomes even more pronounced.

I wonder if I made him like this? Could his extensive wardrobe be causing him to put on airs? Oh well, it's too late to bring him back down to earth. To do so would be cruel. It would be like making that kid in the short story "Paul's Case" go stay at a Super Eight after his experiences at the Ritz or wherever it was he went with all his stolen loot. Maybe Frank, like the fictional Paul, is in love with beauty? Or perhaps he just prefers my company to that of some strange dog. One can understand...

Check It Out

If you get a chance, look for a short film called Lighthead by Daniel Sadler. It aired on Bravo after Sex and the City Friday night and I was absolutely blown away. It shows this guy videotaping a message for a girl he just went on a date with. He's trying to convince her that she completely has the wrong idea: he really isn't obsessed with Gordon Lightfoot. Unfortunately, in take after botched take, all he can talk about is Gordon Lightfoot. The short is genius! Daniel Sadler is going to do great things.


And since we're on the subject of genius, I should mention that I am right now making a mixed tape. It is, most emphatically, not a product of genius. Somehow Sam Roberts, New Order, Outkast, The Faces, and Hall and Oates don't really work together. But I'm going to force them. I figure there's got to be some kind of internal logic I can use. Like if I put ACDC's Shoot to Thrill with Manhunter there is a certain emphasis on, you know... hunting. Ahem. Don't worry, I won't be giving this one as gift.

And finally, I'm rereading Clockers by Richard Price and, as always, I feel awe. Richard Price's penetrating character study and exploration of opportunity structure in America is a revelation. It is my favourite novel of the 1990s.

Now I'm going to turf out my frozen violas and plant some primroses. After that, I may try to think of names for my new neon tetras. They suffer from a certain sameness, so I think I'll call them all Donna. That way I can refer to them as The Donnas. That'll be good.

Happy New Year

Ack! Those of you who are careful readers will have noticed that my five lists of Christmas ended up as a one list of Christmas. As dear departed and much missed Buffy would say, “my bad”.

But here, for your edification, is a snapshot of our holiday. Sleeping. Eating. Writing. Thinking about blogging. But instead watching TV, eating and napping again. Reading. Repeat.

The things I will remember best about this holiday are:

#1: the five hours I spent watching Monster Garage loop on the Discovery Channel. I watched the episode where they turned the hotdog cart into a hotrod TWICE.

There is something oddly compelling about host Jesse James’ mix of boyish enthusiasm for patently stoopid (in a good way) automotive makeovers and his occasional thuggishness and intolerance for many of his guests. The episode in which the team made a mobile wedding chapel out of a Chevy Suburban was excruciating. The only female guest I saw in all those hours was pretty much brutalized by one of her teammates, a hostile jerk with no neck and a silly goatee. (The same guy later threatened to beat up the organ-maker on the team, so maybe he wasn’t just a sexist but more of an equal opportunity ass.) ANYWAY, as Chuck Klosterman would say, good luck to anyone getting married in that testament to negative male/female karma that is the Suburban Mobile Wedding Chapel.

2: The two hours we spent Christmas night judging and arguing over World Idol, and the exultation (I kid you not) I felt when the Norwegian Idol won.

3: Fargo Rock City by Chuck Klosterman. Easily the funniest and best book on rock and roll I have ever read. Of course, I’ve only read about five books on rock and roll. But still…

4: Three young boys dragging a small boat down a steep hill to reach the lake in Linley Valley. I particularly loved it when the little fellow with the earring hushed his brother when he swore.

5: The seven plus hours I spent watching the Jamie’s Kitchen Marathon. Jamie Oliver training a group of unemployed London kids to be chefs made for fatally excellent TV.

Not a lot of charity or personal growth in those things is there? No. I must admit the Christmas season has always been a little light in those areas for me.

I hereby resolve to have a more meaningful holiday next year.