UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS

Father and I have been watching the 1970s British TV series Upstairs, Downstairs on Netflix.  It's the show that made Masterpiece Theatre, the one about an upper-class family and their servants in London in the early 20th century.  I first saw it on the CBC in the '70s, then in reruns in the late 1980s and again in the 1990s.  I used to watch it late on Sunday night, and sometimes I dream of being about to watch it at that time. 

It's one of my favourite shows, despite the occasional improbable plot turn--would Sarah really have an affair with James?--and shameless cliche. (See the scene at a seaside theatre where Hudson's recitation gets interrupted by someone announcing Britain's entry into World War I.) My favourite character is Hudson the Scottish butler.  Even though he seems happy in his station, for some reason I keep feeling sorry for him.  Maybe he just seems like a lost soul. My mother said about Hudson, "The tragedy of the Scots is that too many are yes men." Anglicized Scots seem to become more English than the English.

But I have to admit that the first season isn't so good, though it has its moments, and I'm not surprised that Masterpiece Theatre skipped most of these episodes.  Some of the writing is a little much:  in the episode I just saw Mrs. Bridges was so distraught about the suicide of her love-thwarted kitchen maid that she stole a baby and ended up on trial, where Hudson took the stand and proposed marriage to her, which somehow got her off. (They forgot about the proposal till the last episode--did I mention cliches?) They often show Hudson polishing something.  Jean Marsh's parlour maid Rose hasn't yet had an episode centred on her, which is surprising considering that she was one of the show's producers.

We've also been watching the last episodes of Treme on DVD.  Great music and some great acting, but the show's just near-great.

Last acting class

Yesterday afternoon was my last acting class for a while. (Nancy's spending next month on a work vacation on an Irish farm.) It took place at Philty McNasty's, which was having trouble with its air conditioning so things were hot and stuffy.  Among other things, Sharon and I did a dialogue as Ella the fairy and Rick Pulaski.  It was originally going to be a Meisner exchange, but we ended up doing things our own way.  Rick suggested that Ella should visit Nancy's farm in Ireland because people there still believed in her kind!

In the last hour Chris had a diabetic fainting spell!  Fortunately, Nancy's an experienced nurse and knew exactly what to do so he recovered and didn't need an ambulance.  I may not have been a hero so far in my life, but I got to see a hero closeup.  After this caused a long delay, I got to read my monologue "The 26-Year-Old Bar Mitzvah Boy" again.  I don't have it memorized yet but I seem to be improving.

This afternoon I saw the documentary Citizen Koch at the Bloor with the Sunday Afternoon Movie Meetup. (It's the documentary that PBS chickened out of showing because Koch is a big donor.) Scott Walker is a shameless hypocrite, the way he claimed that outside interests and big unions were financing the campaign to recall him while the big money was on his side!

At the event I got to meet a Malian girl called Sira.  She was impressed that I knew Mali's capital is Bamako, and have heard of Timbuktu and King Sundiata.  And she's interested in joining ROLT.

Brush painting

Wednesday I went to the Agincourt Centre near Sheppard and Kennedy and took a class in Chinese brush painting. (I discovered it through Meetup.) Future classes will cost $15 each, but the first one was a free sample.  I'm interested enough to go again, but not yet to buy materials so I can practise at home.

Unfortunately, the teacher spoke Chinese--the language of most of the pupils--and Anglophones like me needed an interpreter.  I started drawing petals and didn't stop, so I produced several zinnias.  There was also some Chinese calligraphy, which particularly interests me.  I remember learning years ago that the brush strokes in Chinese characters are drawn rightward and downward, but if you have a diagonal line going between upper right and lower left downward gets preference unless it's just a slight tilt off horizontal.  And the character "yong" (eternity) uses all the basic strokes.

Last night I saw Robert Altman's film of Raymond Chandler's The Long Goodbye (for the second time) with the Classic Movie Meetup at the Revue.  It was introduced by Geoff Pevere as part of a series of private eye movies.  It's an oddly counter-intuitive adaptation:  Moira says it's totally different from the book.  I noticed David Carradine in a cellmate cameo, which Pevere confirmed afterward; he also confirmed that the actor playing the gangster was the same Mark Rydell who directed movies like On Golden Pond.

SILAS MARNER

A sarcastic Patricia Arquette, asked why she bought an expensive house that she now has to sell: "Because I love making poor life choices!"--Boyhood

I'm now reading George Eliot's Silas Marner for the Classic Book Club. (I read it before when I was 18, and before that I read the Classics Illustrated comic book.) It may seem a simple story at first glance, but I now see that it's very sophisticated in its historical and psychological aspects.  I'm the sort of reader who seeks existentialism everywhere, and there's something existential about the hero's shifting focus from religion to money to parenthood.

Yesterday I saw Richard Linklater's Boyhood with the Sunday Afternoon Movie Meetup, at the Varsity.  It's everything they say! (Why can't I use the occasional cliche?) A very original movie, though it got rather conventional toward the end when he discovered girls.  It's the sort of film that interested Mark Cousins in his cinema history, whose last episode we were lucky enough to finish on Netflix.

Last Thursday I met a girl called Sarah at the Storytellers Meetup and she sent me a message saying it was nice to meet me and asking how I was doing.  I answered, "I'm waiting for our next event together =)" Now I'm worrying maybe that reply was too forward.  Sarah, if you're reading this, please bear with my awkwardness with girls. (I'm awkward with boys too.)

Kirk Pulaski

Today's acting class had an unusual challenge:  for the second-last session before the August break, we had to take the casting suggestions from each of our "hot seat" sessions, come up with a character, and play him or her all through class.  Four of us did it, and it was pretty fun.

I played Kirk Pulaski, an anarchist from 1914 visiting 2014 via time machine. (I wore a tie and my green cardigan to look the part, and stood up when a lady entered the room.) He was from Trail, B.C., with a Polish-born father and Scottish-born mother.  He couldn't afford university but became very well-read, especially in a period of a few years when he worked as a lighthouse keeper.  He'd also been a schoolteacher and newspaper reporter but was too outspoken to keep such jobs.  He'd worked a wide range of jobs and even been a hobo.  The last thing he said to the group was "Try to forgive our mistakes." Like the other characters, he spoke of me in the third person.  Nancy asked if he could return next week.

Ken was a guitar man from Kentucky, Tristan was a drug dealer, and Sharon was a fairy called Ella! (When she was coming there on a GO bus, she got harassed by some ignorant auto race fans, but she stayed in character.) All of them impressed me.  Nancy said this class gave her the best memories so far.

This weekend is the Salsa on St. Clair Festival nearby, which got a pretty big crowd despite the drizzly weather. (Too bad I couldn't wear my rain jacket instead of the cardigan.) The noise was a little much, as usual, and I was glad to have somewhere to go to.

Today we had the season's first corn on the cob! (I burnt my mouth a bit.)

Storytellers

Last night I went to a new Meetup:  a storytelling group that met at a place called Baka's near the Runnymede station.  They had a talking stone-like cane for the speaker to hold.

Lisa, the organizer, told us a few stories, including one about waitressing at the Banff Springs Hotel.  She got to wear a Victorian dress for one banquet, but suffered food poisoning. (The best food went to the first-class restaurant on the top floor, what was left over went to the second-class buffet, and the staff diner was the end of the line!) There were also stories of a guy skiing in Switzerland who ended up in Italy; a girl who prized a National Geographic photo of a Nefertiti bust then found the real thing in a Berlin museum; and a guy who insisted on giving blood to help his mother through surgery.

I told the "esprit de l'escalier" story, actually three mini-stories, that I'd written for the memoir slam.  I made a pretty good impression:  there was lots of laughter.  I also told a couple of jokes.  And I promised to give a link to the memoir slam group.

On Tuesday night I went to the second Transit Enthusiasts Meetup. This time it was at Sloppy Joe's near Lakeshore & Long Branch.  That was quite a TTC journey.  (Maybe that's why they chose the place.) Unfortunately, the starting time was 6:00, so I was inevitably half an hour late, and I suggested a later time if they're going to half such out of the way locations.  And the place was really loud, so I had a hard time participating in the discussion.  I suggested Dutch Dreams or Just Desserts for the next location.

Last night I dreamed about the movie The Last of Sheila.  I want to see it again!

THE SIX WIVES OF HENRY VIII

Father and I have been watching the 1970 BBC series The Six Wives of Henry VIII on Netflix. (They have Elizabeth R too.) I remember seeing it as a kid over forty years ago.  It's a great show, intelligently written and brilliantly acted.  Keith Michell is a charismatic Henry, and Bernard Hepton's an uncanny Cranmer.  Some scenes in the Jane Seymour episode reminded me of Doctor Who!

Saturday afternoon the acting class was at upstairs at the Tangerine Bank internet cafe.  There were a couple of new students, who each did an animal imitation:  one was a platypus!  They also went through the "hot seat" of potential casting.  And we did the exercise again where we closed our eyes and wandered around the room.  Now I'm trying to figure out how to pay Nancy through E-transfer.

Sunday afternoon was the latest ROLT event, but only Joel came.  I did get to read him Service's "The Ballad of Pious Pete," Whitman's "There Was a Child Went Forth," Frost's "Never Again Would Bird's Song Be the Same," and Auden's "Funeral Blues." (That poem turned out to be in the big Auden volume after all; it just didn't have that title.) I was getting a lot of people a few months ago, but they just seemed to lose interest.

A new writing group

It's been a lazy week for me.  I've had these persistent headaches again, so I've been napping a lot in the afternoon and early evening. (And this is my first blog entry in almost a week, of course.) Father's been watching the World Cup soccer games, so we often don't eat till 18:00.

Sunday was my first Classic Book Club Meetup event, at the Victory Cafe as usual, where we talked about The Last of the Mohicans.  John Snow and I were the only ones who showed up, but I was expecting a slow start, and he's as enthusiastic as I am.  He suggested George Eliot's Silas Marner for our next book.

Ten people came to the memoir slam Monday, including three new people.  I'll remember Marion's name because it's the same name my mother had, and I'll remember Flora's name because she's Filipina and pronounced it "Frora." I don't know if I'll remember Millie's name...

Today I went to a new writing group.  It was that group that Gary was telling me about that meets at the Sanctuary just south of the Bloor-Yonge station, and this time I succeeded in making contact.  There were five people, of whom two were fellow Aspies.  Our subjects were "Hamster damn" and "Pet peeves." I guess I'll have to post my pieces in the memoir slam blog.

Afterward I picked up some poetry books for Sunday's ROLT.  I found books by Robert Service and Walt Whitman at the Deer Park library, but it took a long detour to Maria Shchuka Library to find a big volume of WH Auden poems, which turned out not to have "Funeral Blues"! (I hope I can use Moira's printer to get it from online.)

CENERENTOLA

Today I saw the last of the Met opera screenings at the Yonge & Eglinton:  Rossini's Cinderella opera La Cenerentola.  It's funny:  I've seen Puccini's La Boheme enough, but I can always see this one an extra time!  Giuseppe thinks it's even better than Rossini's The Barber of Seville, and I won't disagree.  This was a snappy production with lots of laughs.  Alidoro (the fairy godfather) looked like the horror writer HP Lovecraft.  It got me thinking about that Cinderella poem I'm still going to write someday.

It's been less than two weeks since the season finale, but I'm already missing the choir!  I hope there's lots of interesting new music in the fall.  At least I still have the memoir group.

I've started reading the youth issue of Lapham's Quarterly.  There's an interesting review of Gustave Flaubert's novel Sentimental Education.  There's another book I should read someday!

I've joined a new Meetup group where people come together to tell a story.  Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if I can think of any long stories from my past that a group of people would find entertaining. (Shorter stories are easier.)

Bustle in the streets

This is World Cup season and a lot of Toronto is noisy.  There's a restaurant around the corner from us with a lot of Colombian patrons, and things were really noisy after Colombia won a game Saturday night.

Saturday's acting class was going to be at Philty McNasty's, since the regular space is occupied by Fringe activity.  But the place was really noisy because people were watching the Brazil-Chile game, which went into overtime.  So after a long delay, we had the class out in a park north of Eglinton and a bit west from Yonge. (Chris kindly bought us bottles of water!) 

I performed my new monologue "The 26 Year Old Bar Mitzvah Boy" from Gabriel Davis' GOODBYE CHARLES.  I'd intended to print out a new document with bigger print, but every time I pasted the text the right side got cut off!  Now I'm going to type it out, adding some ellipses.

The other day I finally got enough ore samples in the Tribez game to build the foundry and open the bottleneck.  In Sunshine Bay I raised enough coin to upgrade the city hall, so my next goal will be financing a new bottling plant, which will allow more voyages at the upper end.

I meant to bake a multigrain loaf in the new machine, but I ran out of multigrain flour and filled it out with white flour.  Which resulted in mushrooming so great that the door on top got pushed open toward the end and the bread got underbaked!

I've been lazy lately.  I could have written this post a day or more ago, but I just didn't get around to it till now (well after midnight!).