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These books were not necessarily published in 2010, but I read them in the past year.

10. Survival of the Sickest: An interesting set of case studies into the possible evolutionary benefits of various illnesses that seem unhelpful at first glance.

9. Smashed: Story of a Drunken Girlhood: A surprisingly insightful memoir by a young woman who drank herself through her teens and early twenties; it's that rare book that changed how I view something in the world.

8. Vampire Academy series:  This five-book YA series brought me many evenings of good storytelling.

7. Finding Nouf; City of Veils: Two entries in a mystery series set in modern Saudi Arabia.

6. Fall to Pieces: The memoir of Mary Forsberg, the wife of rock singer Scott Weiland.

5. The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: The novella is based on a short incident in the Twilight series. With Stephenie Meyer's good sense of plot and characters you care about, it stuck with me.

4. Faithful Place: Best mystery of the year.

3. The Hunger Games trilogy: The only series to rival the Stieg Larsson trilogy for unputdownability.

1 (and 2). Freedom; American Wife: There's no way to choose between these two masterpieces. I really believe this is what students will be studying in English classes a hundred years from now.
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I had meant to hit the multiplex to see Black Swan, but illness has interfered. So I'm watching this acclaimed trilogy on Netflix Instant.

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Who knows where the time goes?

My nephew Keith, who was just toddling an hour ago, just wearing footed PJs ten minutes ago, is getting married.

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stop being inspired by art. In 1991, a movie called Dogfight was released to critical acclaim, about a young marine played by River Phoenix who lures a plain girl (played by Lili Taylor) to a party that is actually a contest to see who managed to bring the ugliest girl. I ddin't catch it in the theaters, but found it on cable last week and Tivoed it, finally watching it last night.

Wow. There's more to the story than the short description above. The acting is phenomenal, and it made me angry at River Phoenix all over again for overdosing when he could have been acting and giving the world more amazing performances. Lili Taylor was unbelievable too. The acting and the plot were so UN-cliched, and the movie never took a wrong step. It was like watching a high-wire act, waiting for something to go off-kilter.

One particularly nice thing about the story and acting was that the two main characters never stopped being anything but two individuals bumping along with each other. It's not like there was some magical alchemy that made them suddenly connect and, I don't know, kind of meld. They remained separate and distinct, yet that didn't preclude their journey of discovery.

Alas, I feel that I'm rambling. Bottom line: great movie. And it's great to know how much Art with a Capital A there is left to discover in the world.
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I was watching this show last night, which is about families who confront a drug-addicted member and try (with the help of the show's professionals) to get them to go into rehab (which is paid for by the show). It's a fascinating, enlightening show, sometimes very sad but sometimes with a happy ending.

My mind was churning around two things as I switched it off:

1. If the drug addict is a woman, her story almost always begins like this: "So-and-So was a very happy girl, outgoing and always smiling. And then" (fill in the blank with one of the following):  (a) "when she was 8 years old, she was molested by a family friend"; or (b) "I remarried, and it turned out my new husband secretly abused her for years"; or (c) "she was date-raped in college."

2. Some people are dangerous and/or sociopaths and need to be in jail. But some people are in jail only because they're drug addicts. STOP SENDING THEM TO JAIL, AND GET THEM REHAB. It's a waste of taxpayer money, not to mention a waste of human potential, to send someone repeatedly back to jail when crime is not their problem, drugs are their problem. I know that rehab doesn't always work, at least not the first time, but neither does jail. It's pointless, repetitive, expensive, and a waste of resources, both financial and human.

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This book has been praised to death, but add my voice to the din. Here's all you really need to know: At one point, Franzen writes that a certain character had to "wait for all the faits to be accomplis." Now imagine that there is a turn of phrase like that in nearly paragraph. Now imagine that this is done not merely to be clever but in service of a beautifully structured novel. Add in deftly handled symbolism throughout. Original character voices. Cultural insights. And MEANING---really weighty, important meaning and themes. That's why we're all drooling, and why its hundreds of pages fly by like a dozen. I hope we don't have to wait another 9 years for the next Franzen novel. Or maybe it's okay if we do, if it brings another novel like this.

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Jay and I are always riffing variations on the Seinfeld bit where Kramer has a line in a Woody Allen movie and the line is "These pretzels are making me hungry." They all offer variations: These pretzels ARE making me hungry. These pretzels are making ME hungry. But now when someone at work or social gatherings says something similar, I start to do the same:  "No, these cocktails are making ME tipsy!" In which case I would look like an unbalanced idiot. I have to watch myself.
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Many of you will have seen this already. For those who haven't, take a fascinating little trip by clicking below:




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On his show earlier this week, he had a segment on the Sons of Confederacy Vets approach to celebrating the South's secession. One of the organization's spokesmen said, "There were lots of reasons the South seceded . . .   there's enough politically correct ads talking about slavery." Jon's correspondent notes, "It's not politically correct; it's correct correct!" (And goes on to cite secession statements, because we know Jon gives primary sources whenever he can.)
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From a short piece that she wrote for Oprah Magazine on finding one's calling:

"What I learned is that we are all Pinocchio: We begin our life, waving to our mother and father with our schoolbooks in hand, hoping to do well. But we are turned this way and that. We make mistakes, we move from our course, we falter, flounder, and may suffer remorse, rebellion, or a sense of defeat. We seem to lose our way. But no matter! If we keep our little flame alive, our first feeling of enthusiasm of who we are, without the influence or intervention of others, we will prevail. And like Pinocchio, despite all his transgressions, find the courage to reunite with our little flame and be rewarded. And the reward is this: We become ourselves."

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Electric and stunning:

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At one point in his lecture on Wagner's opera Tristan and Isolde, Robert Greenberg, my guide to classical music, says, "It's as if we took off our socks and put bologna in our shoes."
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There are a million things to love about this movie---James Franco's performance, the landscape, the ideas that animate it. But best of all is that a master director is at work, someone who knows how to use the art form. The movie is more than just a script read by actors in a setting. Danny Boyle creates something that could never been created in another medium. From his opening images of crowds of people (which represent everything the main character is fleeing) to the character's hallucinations to the use of editing and camera angles to give symbolic meaning to small details, the director's work is evident but never superfluous or showy. I'm ready to see this movie again!

Danny Boyle, the director, at work:

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You must see this:

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I sat down to eat pizza last night, and Jay mentioned that the cheese might cause me problems (since I'm now lactose intolerant). I stared at it for a second and said, "Do you think I shouldn't eat it?" And he replied, "It's Roe v. Pizza. I can't tell you what to do with your body."

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When I was a young woman, my fantasy was to live with a dark-haired, blue-eyed artist. And I still can hardly believe that I do in fact live with a dark-haired, blue-eyed artist. He's not much on melancholy and brooding (most of the time), but he does infuse our lives with creativity, wit, and beauty.

Here's an example. The other day he found two items in the newspaper that he thought I'd be interested in. If it were me doing the telling, I'd just say, "Hey, honey, it turns out that Merriweather was named one of the three top live venues in the country." And "Hey, honey, the police are using patrol dogs at the mall." But here is what I found on the kitchen counter when I got up (it helps to know that "Roo" is his nickname for me):

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I don't understand the mediocre reviews for this movie. There were a few stereotyped plot points and pieces of dialogue. But overall it was very fresh and moving. LOVED the acting.

And you know how I feel about nudity in movies: more please.

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A Day of Beagling

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I made the mistake of talking on my cell phone while trying to attend to Rocky, who was on his leash but roaming free through the trees near our house. While I was caught up in my conversation, he slipped out of sight. Normally this isn't a problem because he's attached to his leash, which means he can't go too far without getting stuck in a bush or the leash wrapped around a branch.

So I was a little disconcerted that I couldn't find him. After roaming the paths for a good half hour, I caught sight of him. His leash had actually broken off, no doubt when it got stuck and he was pulling at it. So now he had his collar and harness on, but only about six inches of leash attached to him, leaving him free to run without impediment. I almost caught him twice, but he scampered away like a fresh young puppy.

Five hours later, when we found him in the dark, he was quite the old dog. He put up no resistance, didn't run away, and could barely make it up the hill to our house. Even when he came in the door, he couldn't make it into the living room at first, he was so worn down. He just laid down on the little rug in the entryway. After a while he made it to the living room, and Jay and I gave him little massages on his muscles. He was doing the doggy equivalent of a moan---a little humming sound Poor guy; he is totally wiped. (As are we.)
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