RAIN

"You're committing a serious offence." "What you're doing would make a hyena cry!"--Rain

Tonight I went to the first Vintage Meetup.  I hadn't been into vintage clothes, true, but I'm willing to try new things.  I wore this corduroy jacket in my closet which probably dates from the '70s which I hadn't much worn for almost thirty years.  It got rather tight for me in the meantime. (Fancy that!) I miss corduroy pants.

We met at the Starbucks at College & Euclid. (On the way over, the bust of Luis Vaz de Camoes reminded me of Gabe, Claire's badass boyfriend in the first season of Six Feet Under.) The generous organizer handed out gift packages, and I got a pair of cufflinks and a bracelet that I briefly wore--I guess I'm a metrosexual now!

After a while we went to the Royal nearby and saw Lewis Milestone's Rain, which I'd never seen before. (There are still a few classic movies I haven't seen!) It was presented by Ladies of Burlesque, and just before the movie we saw a stripper with a face like Barbara Stanwyck and several tattoos--really, I don't get the appeal of body art.

The movie, adapted from the W. Somerset Maugham story by playwright Maxwell Anderson, is striking:  Joan Crawford and Walter Huston made a fearsome pair! (I'd forgotten what a great actor Huston was.) I remember seeing Sonny and Cher doing a recurring spoof of the movie on the TV, with Cher's posterior making a drum noise.

I recalled researching my Ph.D. thesis on Chongqing's foreign community and learning that Maugham had visited the city and met some local missionaries, including one named Alfred Davidson, whose name he gave to the missionary played by Huston! (Maugham was cheeky that way.) To tell the truth, I'm not so surprised that Huston ended up going all the way with Crawford:  look at all those big religious leaders with a promiscuous side, like Mormon Joseph Smith or Elijah Muhammed or Sun Myung Moon, or even Jimmy Swaggart. It's like the gregarious sort of character that can lead you into preaching can also lead you into sex!

The missionary movement has a fairly mixed record worldwide: too often it's been caught up in colonialism and destruction of aboriginal culture. But I'd say the China missionaries tend to come off well, partly because they had less power than some.  I like the idea of going to a foreign country and doing good, like education and medical care, but I don't care for the mindset that says you have to win someone over to your belief system in order to save his soul! The part I wouldn't like about being a missionary is getting a letter asking me, "How many people did you save last year?"

I've finished the Caravaggio biography, but now I want to go through it again and download all the paintings it talks about!

Classic Book Club

"Sex is so stupid!"--Six Feet Under

Yesterday at the Classic Book Club we discussed James Joyce's The Dubliners.  I managed to reread it in one week flat, including "The Dead" in one two-hour session the night before. (I've translated the last couple of pages of "The Dead" into Portuguese.) I should see the movie again too.

Last night I dreamed of being hypnotized into believing I was married to this young woman.  I also dreamed of reading a review of a non-existent book that said that diplomats who'd served at a compound in Finland got to put a little circle at the end of their C.V.!  And I dreamed again of being on the moon, and getting a view of the earth much bigger than you can actually see on the moon.

DUEL

Tuesday morning I submitted my consent form for O.D.S.P., so I'll presumably be getting it at the end of the month.  I handed it in at the Eglinton Avenue office, when I should have taken it to the Sheppard Avenue office (d'oh!), but it got straightened out in the end.

At the same time I went to see my shrink Dr. Hassan to tell him the good news.  Without him, I not only couldn't have done it but wouldn't even have imagined it!

Tuesday night I saw Stephen Spielberg's early TV movie Duel (I'd seen part of it before) with the Classic Movie Meetup, which I hadn't attended for a while.  That's the one with driver Dennis Weaver in danger of being crushed by a malevolent truck!

The Staples people straightened out the problem with the printer return.

I've finished Britain's Bloodiest Dynasty and started Britain's Bloody Crown, a documentary by the same historian about the Wars of the Roses.  Funny how the Plantagenets (including the Lancaster and York branches) combined very strong kings with very weak ones!

Reading out loud

Yesterday afternoon was the latest Reading Out Loud Meetup. There were ten people there! (Getting to the location was complicated by the St. Patrick's Day parade down Yonge Street.) Someone said I should warn people you have to enter the building at the door near Gould Street.

I read the last half-dozen pages of James Joyce's The Dead and translated my Portuguese picture book Mama's Heart.  I also sang not one but two a capella songs: Burns' "Ye Banks and Braes" and Yeats' "Down by the Sally Gardens." They seemed to like my singing.

Speaking of "The Dead," I realized that the Classic Book Club will be coming up before the History Meetup, so I stopped reading the Caravaggio biography and started reading Joyce's The Dubliners.

Donald came over for dinner and set up my new inkjet printer. (I might have done it myself, but didn't complain.) It prints at a high quality!

My credit card statement showed that Staples failed to refund the price of that last printer I returned when it malfunctioned.  This morning I went there and showed them the statement.  The manager's trying to solve the mystery now.

I've been playing this Facebook game Dakota Farm Adventure, but I think it's time to quit.  The interior decorations I need to open Aunt Sally's room cost more than my income can produce, and too much of the game depends on production there.

RYAN'S DAUGHTER

Priest: "Doing nothing's a dangerous occupation!"--Ryan's Daughter

Last night I saw David Lean's Ryan's Daughter (for the second time) with my history group. Debi brought some mini-cupcakes and I ended up eating six!

At three hours, the movie is anything but lean.  It's about Irish girl Sarah Miles marrying earnest but unexciting schoolteacher Robert Mitchum and cheating on him with a British officer, leading to the locals scapegoating her after a Republican landing gets betrayed.  Mitchum was oddly cast against type, perhaps for his resemblance to Lean. (Moira wonders, "How can any guy be more exciting than Robert Mitchum?") Sarah Miles was a babe, even with her hair cut off! It's the sort of movie where the villagers often move about en masse.

We saw the missing episode and are now watching the second season of Six Feet Under.  Nate not telling Brenda about his brain condition is a straightforward cliche! (If he told her right away, as most people would presumably do, that would be less dramatic...) Nate said about the corporate villainess, "What kind of name is Mitzi?" I could have told him,  "The kind of name they give a TV show character!"

St. Patrick's Day snowstorm

Back in New Brunswick we'd speak of the last big snowfall that would happen around this time as the St. Patrick's Day snowstorm. Toronto had one yesterday. Stayed in the house all day!

I've been watching Britain's Bloodiest Dynasty, another Acorn TV British documentary, this time about the Plantagenet House.  As the title suggests, it's on the unsubtle side. (I would have like to hear more about King John--I'm so picky!) One thing it mentioned was Henry II getting monks to whip him thousands of strokes to atone for his indirect role in Beckett's murder.

Last night I had a dream where I was walking along the coast of Cape Breton with my parents and saw a trail leading up to a promontory sacred to First Nations.  I tried to climb it, and Father gave me a leg up, but it was too steep for me.  I was also wondering if I should take flogging to atone for my responsibility for what we've done to the Indians!  I also saw tall urban buildings over the sea and decided it was an optical illusions. (I've seen that in several dreams.)

Tonight I was going to see A Streetcar Named Desire at a Classic Movie Meetup, but when I got to Queen's Quay I couldn't find the place! (They'd given a number to text message them, but I'm not a text messager.)

I finally succeeded at Level 629 of Candy Crush Saga, another particularly difficult one.

Back to the memoir group

With my cold out of the way, this afternoon I finally returned to my memoir group after a month away. (I hardly ever miss a session normally.) One of the subjects was "High," and instead I wrote about trees, one of last week's subjects.

Yesterday afternoon I went to John Snow's book club where we discussed Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha.  Unfortunately, what with my cold I'd only got around to reading a fifth of the book, and on top of that I was over an hour late, because I'd forgotten about the Daylight Savings Time change. (D'OH!) They took it pretty well.  John told me that he missed my memoir blog posts.

Tonight I finished Waldemar Januszak's documentary series Rococo Before Bedtime.  The rococo movement was oddly contemporary with the Enlightenment of the 18th century!

We were going to see the last episode of the first season of Six Feet Under but accidentally skipped it and saw the first episode of the second season instead.  That Watteau portrait of the Pierrot reminds me of Buster Keaton!

Book exchange

This morning I got a letter from the Ontario Disability Supports Program.  My application was accepted, so the next step will presumably be a live interview!

This afternoon I had a dental checkup.  I have some root canal work coming up, but I'm delaying it till the O.D.S.P. business is finished, because that'll probably cover the expense of it.

This evening I went to a Book Exchange Meetup at Pauper's.  I brought Edith Wharton's Ethan Frome and D.H. Lawrence's The Rainbow, and took a graphic treatment of the H.P. Lovecraft story "The Shadow of Time."

I've resumed reading Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha since my cold interrupted.  I won't have time to finish it before John Snow's book club this Sunday, but I'll read some of it by then.

March is my favorite time of year.  Too bad there's some more cold weather coming up this weekend.

The opera's finished

Sunday afternoon was the last opera performance. (We did Carmen, and were in rare form!) No more leering at Merry Widow grisettes--of course, I was it wasn't me who was leering at them, I was only playing a leering character!  What new reason will I find for returning next year?

For a change, I went to the cast party afterward at Paula's loft near Dufferin Streets. (Paula was one of our Carmens, and she's also an artist!) They had a lot of that churrasco chicken with the orange-colored rice.

I'm still not completely over my cold, so I skipped the memoir group again this week. (I hardly ever skip it!) This evening I went to Loblaw's and bought four of those huge pomelo grapefruit.

The third episode of Six Feet Under is a doozie!  That's the one where a guy cleaning an industrial bread machine gets cut into a thousand pieces, and Claire's boyfriend has carelessly blabbed around high school that she sucked his toes, so she swipes the guy's foot and puts it in the creep's locker, then he dumps it in the park where a dog eventually finds it! (Meanwhile, mother Ruth blows 25 grand at the racetrack.)

I was dreaming about the actual incident when I was twelve and painting a bunch of blue squares as my first assignment in art class, then got 1 out of 5 because the edges were messy.  Really, I'd never been in an art class before and thought that just getting it done was an achievement!  What bugged me was that this was the only time the art teacher graded our individual assignments, which meant that people like me didn't get the chance to earn a better grade next time.  She only graded that first assignment to start out the year with a show of power, as bad teachers are wont to do.

Getting over the cold

Ruth (going through her late husband's clothes): "How could a man who had so few clothes have so many clothes?"--Six Feet Under

I think I'm almost over the cold. I've been eating grapefruit constantly, and Wednesday I found one of those huge pomelos at Loblaw's.  Tonight I returned to the opera, and ate a grapefruit during the breaks. (Kathy got me to add my signature to the gingerbread recipe!)

Too bad Father and Moira have caught my cold.  Last Sunday we had a big family gathering and ordered lots of Indian food, and we kept eating Indian leftovers through Thursday, which is nice for people with colds.  Today we used a coupon for Harvey's hamburgers, and I was the one who went out and bought them.

We've regressed to brass-monkey weather just now. That groundhog must have gone for a long stroll a month ago!  But it should be warm again on Monday, and I hope this is the last cold weather before next winter.

Yesterday I started a new computer game on Facebook, Dakota Farm Adventure.  We'll see how far I get before there's nothing interesting left to do...

My browser's been acting up.  It won't open meetup.com properly, so I've had to access it on the downstairs computer.  And I can start threads on The Huffington Post, but not add to them.

SIX FEET UNDER

A.J. Soprano (answering the phone): "Home of the Burger--what's your beef?"

"Your father is dead and my pot roast is ruined!"--Six Feet Under

I think I'm over the worst of my cold. Monday night I sweated a lot.  The Merry Widow song "A Highly Respectable Wife" has been going through my head, as has Don Jose and Micaela's duet in Carmen, and Danilo's song near the end of the Merry Widow second act!

We finished the fourth season of The Sopranos.  We've decided to skip the rest of the show, which I recall gets even bleaker and has less of Meadow and A.J.  After Adrianna got killed that was sort of the show's "point of no return": after that everything else seemed anticlimactic.

Last night we saw the first episode of Alan Ball's Six Feet Under, about a Los Angeles family in the funeral home business, which would start each episode with someone dying and have lots of surreal stuff like the dead speaking.  It was a brilliant balance between the real and the absurd, though I didn't like the last two seasons nearly as much. (They were bound to run out of ideas eventually...)

A cold!

The last few days I've been getting a bit of a cold. I managed to get through all the opera performances this last weekend, but I'll have to wait and see about the last one. (Two years ago I had to miss the later half of the shows!)  The next four days will be mostly rest.

Today I bought some grapefruit to help with the cold.  This was after the Sunday afternoon Merry Widow performance, which Moira saw.  If only the weather had been warmer and I'd been in better shape we could have walked home like last week!

Today we had another big family gathering to mark Donald's birthday today, and Father and Margaret's birthdays in this coming week.  We had Indian food again, and I took too much and could only finish half of what was on my plate, so we saved it so I can eat it later. (Nobody else wants it because of my germs!)

I remember a year ago when I got a cold and ate huge grapefruit while watching the miniseries Texas Rising, with Bill Paxton who just died as Sam Houston. (I also liked him in One False Move, Trespass and the polygamy TV show Big Love!)

Friday I baked some gingerbread for the opera people to sell in the lobby. (It went pretty fast.) I wrote out the recipe for Kathy, my dance partner in The Merry Widow.

Thursday I went to the Deer Park library to try to find Roddy Doyle's Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha for John Snow's book club, but it had just been taken out.  So Saturday I went to Yorkdale Mall and bought one of three copies at Indigo Books.  The Spadina subway line was being serviced so I had to take the bus north on Bathurst, west on Lawrence and north on Dufferin.  I love these urban adventures!

On The Sopranos I got an episode ahead of the others again, so I could warn them to skip the scene where Paulie murdered his mother's friend for her money stash! (But they liked the scene where the family was talking about Billy Budd.) That show had a lot of good actors even in small roles, like Sharon Angela as Carmela's widowed friend Rosalie and Alla Kliouka as the unaffected Russian Svetlana.

More dress rehearsals

Last night and tonight we had two more dress rehearsals of the operas for the other lead casts. (We have two groups of soloists for each show.) That's a total of four dress rehearsals and two performances over nine days.  It's grant time and we need to sell about 1400 tickets this year--we've done that before when doing Carmen.  The music from both shows has been going through my head.

Yesterday was a holiday, so the library wasn't open for my memoir group.  I took advantage of the two-week gap to take home the canister of subject cards again, and winnowed out half a dozen redundant ones. (Last time there were more like ten.) I found one card that had subjects written on both sides, so I rewrote them on two cards.  Used to be that I'd think of a lot of new subjects to add, but I don't think of many these days.

I've finally finished the Lapham's Quarterly special issue about Alexander Hamilton.  They ought to make a movie about the crisis in late-1790s America!

In our latest Sopranos episode, we skipped the part where Tony confronted Ralph and ended up killing him. (As loathsome as Ralph was, he did dress pretty cool!)

I'm no longer wearing long johns or winter boots. I guess it's time to put my electric heater away too.

Opening weekend

The opera started this weekend, with The Merry Widow last night and Carmen this afternoon.  The audiences were pretty enthusiastic.  Moira came to see Carmen today (she liked it) and we walked home together in the mild weather.  I'm now wearing my non-winter shoes again!

Yesterday we finally got around to returning the new malfunctioning printer.

I finished Angela's Ashes yesterday and started reading the rest of the Lapham's Quarterly special issue about Alexander Hamilton.

Father and Moira have finally caught up with me, and now we're watching The Sopranos together again.

It turns out that we're doing two more dress rehearsals this week for the operas' other lead casts.  You'd think I'd have noticed that earlier, but I'm my mother's son!

Dress rehearsals

"Elizabeth, your justice could freeze beer!"--The Crucible

Tuesday and Wednesday were the dress rehearsals for The Merry Widow and Carmen respectively. On Tuesday I didn't wait for a mirror but put on most of my makeup by feel! (Kathy says I did an OK job.)

Tonight I looked at the video of Nicholas Hytner's movie of The Crucible, Arthur Miller's play about the Salem witch trials.  It was pretty good, though I got sleepy in the middle part.

Last night I dreamed of being in a Heart of Darkness type adventure, except that instead of a man the target was a woman in military uniform, and the team out to get her included a teenage boy. Then I dreamed of a non-existent tall building west of Keele & St. Clair that exploded into a big fireball. (That must be from hearing about the tennis club fire near Yonge & St. Clair.)

Because of that fire, Scallywag's is closed for now, so I'll have to move the History Meetup location elsewhere, presumably to the Ryerson Hub where I've moved my other Meetups.

I've been contributing to a lively discussion at the Salon website about an interview with Susan Sarandon and her being blamed for not supporting Hillary Clinton.  Something that bugs me is that when I say that Bernie Sanders would have had a better chance at beating Trump, Clintonites respond with a circular argument: "We Democrats didn't vote for Bernie, therefore Bernie wasn't electable, therefore not voting for Bernie wasn't a mistake!"  I posted that Democrats who voted to nominate Clinton were "dumb as styrofoam"!

Costumes

Young Frank McCourt (being told that his baby brother was going to be christened Alphonsus): "That's a stupid name.  It isn't even Irish"--Angela's Ashes 

(He got slapped and missed out on the christening.)

This morning I went to the Bickford Centre and helped them unload the costumes for the opera. (I also tried on both my costumes.  Our male gypsy costumes for Carmen include a serape-type thing you drape over your shoulder--I wonder if it'll keep falling off unless you pin it or something.) I went to Beatrice and the other girls in the women's dressing room to tell her, "The male costumes are all hung," and couldn't resist adding "...and well hung too!" (That got a groan...)

Yesterday I attended John Snow's book club in his apartment building on Adelaide Street, where we discussed Anita Brookner's Hotel du Lac. (Years ago Moira called her Anita Droopner!) I didn't have much to add, however, since I didn't have time to read the book. Getting there in the snowy weather was an adventure in itself.

When John visited a week ago he spent half the visit trying to fix my new printer.  Then Donald visited yesterday and spent a lot of time on it too. It reminded me of a time about thirty years ago when Donald was visiting the family in Sackville, but our new Atari 2600 computer was on the blink and I had a college paper to print out, so he spent most of the visit working on our machine!

As it is, it looks like we'll have to return or exchange the machine.  This time Father and I will carry it back together!

Just read the part of Angela's Ashes where his father went off to work in the factories of wartime England but never sent any money home, so his mother had to go apply for relief to two officials who made the experience even more humiliating than it had to be. Limerick may be a city, but it definitely reminds me of a small town!

The cable signal finally came back so we're watching The Sopranos again. (I'm an episode ahead of the others.)

LA LA LAND

On Los Angeles: "They worship everything and value nothing"--La La Land

Thursday I visited Dr. Hassan and with his advice completed my O.D.S.P. application. (My description of how Asperger's Syndrome affected me was on the brief side.  Maybe I should have mentioned my occasional bouts with insomnia!)

Last night I went to Bulk Barns near Keele & St. Clair and bought brown flour and rye flour there for the first time.  Our cable connection is off so we haven't been watching The Sopranos for the last few days.

This afternoon I was going to attend the big rally for electoral reform.  Unfortunately, it was in Nathan Phillips Square and I went to Queen's Park instead. (D'oh!) Oh well, it was a nice mild day for getting out.

Tonight I saw La La Land at the Market Square. It's a cute confection that gets better as it goes along.  It reminded me of Jacques Demy's 1960s musical The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, though that film had more passion.

The other night I dreamed of being involved in this scheme where they smuggled me into one of the Gulf States in the Middle East and I posed as Arab royalty and attracted pretty women!

ANGELA'S ASHES

Frank McCourt's father at his christening (to a priest who'd implicitly criticized his speakeasy habit): "Take off that collar and we'll see who's the man."

I've started reading Frank McCourt's memoir Angela's Ashes for my history group, for the second time. (The first time I read it, some fifteen years ago, I finished it in just four days or so:  it helped that I'd already seen the movie.) Depressing yet funny--I've heard that he developed the story from telling and retelling it over the years.  When they were interviewing him on 60 Minutes he said, "A Limerick man said to me, 'You shamed your mother, you shamed Limerick and you shamed Ireland!' A holy trinity of shame!" His Teacher Man is also excellent.

I had lunch with John Snow again yesterday. (We were going to eat at a new Indian restaurant called Ji, but it turned out that it's only open for dinner, so we went to Schnitzel Hub again.) Unfortunately, I didn't have much to talk about because so much of it I've already written on this blog, which he reads.

At opera rehearsal Beatrice said to the women doing the Gypsy Dance in Carmen, "Smile, ladies!...  Think of sex, think of shopping, think of ice cream, think of something that excites you!" I hope I have enough energy for the performances.

Someone compared Donald Trump's adviser Steve Bannon to Tony Soprano, and Trump himself to Tony's protege Christopher Moltisanti.  If you ask me, Trump is more like the twisted gangster Ralph Cifaretto!

55

Today I turned 55.  We ate Chinese food and a strawberry shortcake with white chocolate curls. My fortune cookie said "You have an excellent imagination." (Someone said that you can improve any fortune cookie prediction by adding the words "...in bed"!)

I got a whole lot of "Happy birthday" messages on Facebook from people I don't know.  I replied with a smiley emoticon for each of them, but with people who clearly had Spanish/ Portuguese/ Italian names I wrote "Gracias/Obrigado/Grazie"!

When I brought the new printer Friday, the salesman talked me into buying a fresh ink cartridge too.  So I assumed I'd have to add that cartridge when installing it, but it wouldn't go in. Eventually I figured out that there was already a cartridge inside!  I felt quite the monkey.

The printer is almost installed, except that when I try to print something I get a message that the printer isn't responding.  Oh well, I can wait for Donald or John to figure it out.

We're now watching the fourth season of The Sopranos.  We skipped the last part of the first episode where Christopher avenged his father's death.

I made a goof scheduling this months Reading Out Loud Meetup.  I thought that the opera's eight performances would be like last year, over two weeks with four performances each.  But it turns out that there are two performances in the first week, three in the second and three in the third. Which means it conflicts with that Meetup event, so I had to move it to March. (First time I recall doing that with Reading Out Loud!)

ROGUE ONE (spoiler!)

Good Guy: "You'll never win!" Bad Guy: "Now where have I heard that before?"--Rogue One

Yesterday afternoon I returned to the previous day's interview site with a void cheque (so they can put money directly into my account) and a copy of my 2015 tax return.  I had to miss the first event of a new Meetup group for people over 55, but there were almost thirty people going and I don't care for groups that big.  Besides, I'll only turn 55 this Sunday!

Last night the History Meetup discussed the United States.  Predictably, our discussion ended up being about The Donald.

This afternoon I went out to Staples near Keele & St. Clair and bought a new printer for my computer as a birthday indulgence. (First I checked out the Best Buy competition.) I'd been planning on getting a color inkjet, but on the way over I realized that I could use the downstairs computer's color printer, so I might as well get a monochrome laser printer.  It was somewhat more expensive but in the long run it'll save ink costs.  I was hoping they'd deliver it, but instead I had to tote it home.

I've started reading the original articles in the new Home issue of Lapham's Quarterly.

Tonight I finally saw Rogue One at the Carlton. Like the Star Wars series in general, it was rather shameless fun. The blind martial artist seemed to be derived from Japan's blind swordsman Zatoichi. One thing I liked about it was that... (Here comes the spoiler!)

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...all the important characters died in the end! (Like The Hateful Eight, it reminded me of those Biddle Family childhood plays where my siblings and I would all die in different ways.) While the Star Wars movies owe a lot to serials like Flash Gordon, this one reminded me as much of a war movie.