Is it smoking you?
I don’t smoke anymore, but I must confess that I wish that there are many times when I wish I did. Supposedly, you’re supposed to quit because you realize it’s bad for you or because you decide you don’t want to do it any more. But you could show me a sample of a smoker’s lung black with tar and I would have nodded and smiled politely as I took a drag on my hand-rolled Bali Shag. It wouldn’t have made a bit of difference to me. In all honesty, it still doesn’t. I care about other health-related things, but only then because of aesthetic reasons (I don’t want to look like crap). But even then, with smoking, when people talk about premature aging and yellowed teeth, it’s like there’s a break in my mind and I just don’t directly connect that with smoking. Or maybe I just love it so much, I was willing to pay that price.
So why don’t I smoke then? It’s not because of the money. Hand-rolled cigarettes are cheaper than my pretzel habit, so that’s not it. Guilt from family and friends? Well, I always made it a point to never smoke around children, but other than that, the looks and snide comments never bothered me.
No, it was control that did it for me. When I was in college, one of my professors, Victoria Santa-Cruz, saw me smoking. In her forceful yet quavering thickly accented voice, she said you me:
“Okay, kid! Tell me, are you smoking the cigarette or is the cigarette smoking you!”
At the time, as often happened, I hadn’t the slightest idea what she was talking about and just shrugged it off. But that question stuck with me, always nagging at me. It took years for me to finally admit to myself that the main reason I smoked was because I was an addict and not at all in control of the situation. Sure, I would never run somebody over because of took much nicotine or break up my family from sneaking out for a smoke after putting the boys to bed. But it rankled that the cigarette was in control, and by extension, the tobacco company. So in defiance of the cigarette and the tobacco company, I quit. Just to show it who’s boss.
I still miss it. A lot. But now that longing only pisses me off.
In Defense of Scarlett Johansson
I’ve been a fan of Scarlett Johansson ever since Ghost World. Sure, she’s pretty. And she’s a good actress as well, in that minimalist indie film kind of way. She was even decent in that period piece The Other Boleyn Girl. But the main reason I like her is because she picks good projects. Really, that’s what sets a good actor apart these days. Sure, Johnny Depp is a great actor, but what elevated him past all the other 80’s pretty boys was good taste. He knows how to strike a balance of popular and artsy, mainstream and edgy, that allows nearly everyone to list a Johnny Depp movie among their favorites. And so far, Johansson is on the path to being another one of those actors. Lost In Translation, the Woody Allen movies, The Prestige, The Nanny Diaries, even Sponge Bob Squarepants and Robot Chicken! Damn, she’s all over the place!
And now music.
Let me say right up front that at a certain point in my life, I was a Tom Waits fanatic. I own every album, know most of them by heart. I’ve seen concerts, videos, theatrical pieces, I’ve even watched movies just because he had a cameo in them. And I do a damn good vocal impression. I’ve chilled out on Waits a bit in recent years, but I still name him as one of my all time favorite artists (especially Swordfishtrombone and later). So when I heard that Scarlett Johansson was doing a Tom Waits cover album called “Anywhere I Lay My Head, I was understandably leery. I like Johansson as an actress, but covering my boy Waits? That was pushing it. But when I heard that David Sitek from TV On The Radio and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs guitarist Nick Zinne would be working on the album, I decided not to write it off immediately.
On first listen, I thought, “Okay, it’s actually not bad for a vanity project”. Johansson’s voice is not especially remarkable, but it’s pleasant enough. And some of Sitek’s arrangements are very interesting. Fresh, yet still clearly in the spirit behind the original tunes. So I thought, okay, not bad at all. And I forgot about it for a few weeks.
But then the other day, unable to decide exactly what sort of mood I was in on my drive to work, I just selected the Johansson album at random. And on that drive, I listened–really listened–to the album. And I realized it’s not a vanity project. It’s a genuine, heartfelt Tom Waits tribute album. And the marketing people can spin it any way they like, but it’s not a Johansson album, it’s a Sitek album, through and through. The craziest part is that Johansson seems to know it! After all, would a vanity project open with a song that has no vocal track? And when she does sing, her voice doesn’t try to dominate the music. It’s just one aspect of a very richly textured album. And what’s even more surprising, there are a few songs (songs which I have heard countless times sung by Waits) that the lyrics became a lot more clear to me than they had ever been before. Like any really good actor, she was illuminating the source material, not making it a showpiece for her celebrity status.
In the Entertainment Industry, putting the art before the ego is far too rare. And the ones that do frequently go unnoticed because…well, they don’t have the ego to push it in our faces.
There was a time when I would have said there’s no such thing as a good Tom Waits cover. There’s just the original or crappy attempts at covers. And while I certainly wouldn’t go so far as to say that any of these songs are better than the originals, this album has taught me that really good art is greater than any one person, even the one who created it. In fact, great art must transcend its creator.
I learned that from Scarlett Johansson. And while I’ll never go back to acting again, I am grudgingly relenting that it’s not such a bad profession after all, as long as there are people like her around.
Now in iPhone flavor
My wordpress blog is now optimized for iPhone/iPod Touch viewing, thanks, to the WPtouch plugin. I suspect not many people view my blog via an iPhone, but…well, I do, so there. It’s pretty cool!
My Cool Blood
Apparently, my blood is much sought after. See, I have this genetic blood disorder called Hemochromatosis. To put it simply, most people only absorb as much iron as their body needs. But my body doesn’t know when to stop. It stockpiles it in my liver and pancreas. This might have been useful at some point in the evolutionary process of Northern European types, but it’s not now. In fact, it results in iron overload, which leads to early arthritis, organ damage, and ultimately, death. Fortunately, there’s a very simple solution: bloodletting. So once every 8 weeks for the rest of my life, I must have a pint of blood drawn. Needless to say, Red Cross loves me. Ah, but I had no idea they loved me somuch.
Not until this week when I joined a Hemochromatosis study at the National Institute of Health. My first visit was a little rough, since I spent about half of it being pushed around by various security staff. Geez, what the hell to they have hidden away in that place that I’d need to pass through two security check points and a metal detector? Hopefully once I get my official NIH ID badge, it’ll be a little easier.
Anyway, once I was inside the highly secure NIH compound, the doctor running the study told me that I am the ideal blood donor and Red Cross must be sad that they’re losing me, at least for a little while.
“Oh?” I said.
Apparently, I am what is sometimes referred to as a double negative. My blood type is O Negative, the universal donor. That means I can give blood to any other blood type (alas, I can only receive from another O Negative). That represents approximately only 7% of the population. I am also CMV negative. Apparently half the US population has CMV, a member of the herpies virus family. Don’t worry, for most people there aren’t any symptoms. Only babies and people with weak immune systems have to worry about it. But for them, it can be quite serious. Someone who is a universal donor and CMV free represent only about 3 percent of the population. Add to that fact that, with Hemochromatosis, I must donate blood, I’m a pretty hot item in the blood bank world. Places like Red Cross charge as much as $400 per pint for my blood.
I know it’s a bit odd for me to brag about my blood. But when this whole hemochromatosis thing first came up, it was because my dad had gone undiagnosed for so long that he did have iron overload, early arthritis, and liver damage. His iron count was so high, it took a year of getting a pint a week drawn to get him down to a healthy level. And that really took it out of him, as you can imagine. Since it’s genetic, he told me to get tested immediately, and seeing him in such bad shape made be actually follow through for a change. And when I found out I had it, at first, I was freaked out. But now, when I think about it, it seems to have all worked out for me and a bunch of other people rather well.
Except that I can’t have red meat anymore. That’s my one complaint. I allow myself one steak a year on my birthday.
Just Keep Swimming
I got my rewrites from my editor a few weeks ago, so I don’t really have time to post much except little bits on Twitter. I must confess, that now that there is a very real deadline with very real money attached to my fiction writing (I’m used to that sort of thing in my tech writing), the whole process is a lot more taxing. The writing isn’t any different really. But always before, it was just me, at my computer, banging way at whatever the hell I felt like writing. The “officialness” of this rewriting process is something I have to expend effort to keep at bay. “You’re still just writing, Skov,” I keep having to tell myself. “Nothing’s changed. Just do your thing” Of course, I’m absolutely wrong. The writing is always changing, and so am I. It’s just a question of how I choose to guide that change. To not lose that essential spirit of play while the work becomes more and more “business”.
So I consider this man, William T. Burgess, who swam the English Channel in silly underpants, and think to myself, “Just keep swimming…”
When to Stop Futzing
Over at the 2009 Debutantes (aka, A Feast of Awesome), I just posted about the long, slow, process of revising and I ask my fellow Debs how they know when to step away from the keyboard.
Whedon’s Internet Sci-Fi musical
Taking risks is what it’s all about.
And anything with Neil Patrick Harrison, well…I’ve just gotta get behind that.
Teaser from Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog on Vimeo.
Via Underwire
It wasn’t a cakewalk, but…
Here it is, the new blog/site thingie all rolled into one. At long last. It took a fair amount of work, especially for someone who had no idea about PHP or MySQL, but I managed to move it all around and keep the content while upgrading to a version of Wordpress that wasn’t full of security holes. And if all goes well, this post should also hit LiveJournal, Twitter, and Facebook. We shall see…
I’m not sure if it’s really a good idea to consolidate my static site and my blog all into one, but for some reason it makes me happy. It just seems like “less”. And right now, I’m all about simplifying (hence the very minimalist theme). I assume I’ll be incredibly busy once I get my editorial letter back on my book, so I’m trying to do just about everything else I’ve been meaning to do but could never seem to find the time to do. I’m getting all my ducks in a row now, so that when I’m doing rewrites like a madman I won’t have to just drop off the face of the earth. It’ll be so much like a well-oiled machine that I’ll be able to keep all the wheels spinning.
Yeah…here’s hoping.
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and getting randome posts….
major overhaul of the old blog in progress…nearly there
Giving some props: Stock Photos
If you’re looking for a perfect stock photo for your marketing brochure, website, or anything else, take a look at
PhotoShelter™ Collection - Ryan Benyi
Ryan is the photographer for my site. He also does a lot of work for magazines like Country Living. You can see some of his portfolio on his website. What I like most about his stuff is that he approaches a wide range of subjects (rural, portrait, urban, food, monkeys…) and applies a strange sense of tranquility to it. There’s just something perfect and still about what he finds in the camera.
Which is ironic, of course, because he’s about the least tranquil person I know.
