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Archive for June, 2008

Jun 30 2008

Making more of your time at the gym

 I made a discovery today. It might be working-out 101 knowledge but for me it was a eureka moment. When I go to the gym and jump on the treadmill, I usually set it for 30 minutes on a weight loss program.   The program basically builds up from a small resistance to a larger one. It burns about 150-170 calories which isn’t bad. However I drink a lot of water and usually have to pause it to go to the bathroom and I lose momentum. So today I decided I would do 3 sets of 10 minute intervals of the same program, in case I needed a bathroom break. By doing this I varied the resistance so it moved up and down for the 30 minutes and, unknowingly, boosted my metabolism. I burned 250 calories in the same half hour. So I guess this should work for anyone working out, if they didn’t know about this secret already.

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Jun 29 2008

A Man Making Learning Fun

I’m sure every person has at least once in their lives has had a class that required they read dramas and more often than not it’s taught by some high school English teacher who doesn’t even like the plays. What a student in the predicament longs for more than anything, more than even the bell to ring ending the class, is someone who understands these are more than just words on paper; someone to bring the dramas to life. What these students need is someone like Jeff Wanshel.

Mr. Wanshel, a recurring adjunct professor at SUNY Purchase College, whose classes have included American Theatre in Our Time, is also the author of over twenty plays and has been a writer as long as he remembers.

“I really don’t know when I decided I wanted to be a writer,” contends the good humored Wanshel, whom one student referred to as, “what Santa would look like if he hadn’t ate so many cookies.” However it’s been a long time since the writing bug bit him. “My mother loved to show me the letter I wrote home from camp when I was eight that said ‘the story about the robot is going well,’” he says with a laugh.

Born and raised in Larchmont, Wanshel found his first success with his first play The Disintegration of James Cherry, while he was in his first semester of graduate school at the Yale school of drama. Not long after the start of the semester Cherry was put into a workshop and then produced at the Reparatory Theatre at Lincoln Center, before it toured around the world. He claims this to be his most successful piece but simply chalks it up to the fact that he wrote it at 21 or 22 and it appealed a lot to young people.

“So missed my first semester and I had had a Rockefeller grant so the joke with his friends was, ‘what are you going to do with your grant Mr. Wanshel…Mr. Wanshel?” he says with a chuckle.

After spending some time abroad and producing his second play, Wanshel received his second Rockefeller grant and moved out to San Francisco to work at the now dissolved Magic Theatre, where he had, “a whale of a time.”

“I was young, - around 25 and San Francisco was a fabulous city. This was around ‘73 so it was the time of the hippies. There was a lot going on, great music, so it was a fun time.”

Along with being fun, working on a Wanshel play is also “wild and challenging,” according to Wanshel’s wife (or, as she prefers, “concubine”) Edi Giguere, who designed costumes for three of his projects. 

“Many characters double and triple. [It was] Exhausting; long hours at the theatre, and we took it home.  It is also most exciting and creative - working on a Wanshel play is always full of surprises…  It stretches one in the best of ways.”

Both Wanshel and Giguere, who lived together over 20 years before marrying, are funny and open about their relationship.  When asked if they met working together Wanshel very directly explains, “No we met naked on a beach in Greece.” Giguere, when asked what attracted her to him, explains, “Aside from the perfect tan, he sported a black bowler hat with a red ribbon which complemented his red beard wonderfully.  He was flirtatious, and naked except for the hat.”

Along with the plays, Wanshel has written a lot of movies that haven’t been produced and a TV movie to his credit. The Greatest Man in the World, which he adapted from a ten page long short story aired on PBS in 1980 as part of their American Short Story Series, and stared “a lot of great actors who are dead now” including Brad Davis.  The scrip is now published in the American Short Story volume 2 and he received a writer’s guild nomination. “I got to stand up and was told immediately that I did not win,” he chuckles

While he admits he prefers writing for the stage because you can be your own boss he also concedes the benefits of writing for the movies. “When you write a play that doesn’t get produced you get zip and when you write a play that does get produced you get very little. If you’re witting for the movies you are being hired so weather the movies gets produced or not u make a good deal of money.”

Another insight I got about writing was that he gets best ideas when he’s asleep.

“I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and make notes and then wake up in the morning and think ‘ what do we have here?’ I got the title of a couple of plays that way.”

As a member of the theatre community for over thirty years, what he’s done might be rivaled only by who he knows and what he’s witnessed. When asked who he thought would have the best Jeff Wanshel stories he got a melancholy look in his eyes and sighed, “I could give you a huge list of people to interview but it wouldn’t much help because they’re all dead.”

While they are not all dead, many of the authors of the materials read in American Theatre in Our Time are people Wanshel personally knew, bring a personal touch to the plays that few students are privileged to get. During classes he’s talked about things such as how he’d spent summers living at Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf author Edward Albee’s house while being a struggling actor and how he was once at a party with Tennessee Williams, author of The Glass Menagerie.  

“Williams was with a beautiful younger man on this night and every time the guy went to talk Tennessee would say ‘oh isn’t he just beautiful,’” he related when the topic of how in America if you’re good looking nothing else seems to matter, came up in class. 

When asked if, not counting his works, does Wanshel have any children, he says “No,” he then leans his now grey/white bearded chin on his hand and smiles, “but we’ve had a lot of fun trying to make some.”

 


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Jun 28 2008

A poem

After last night’s sad post, i watched the GLADD Awards 

 Because of these things i dicided i’d write a silly post today. so here’s a goofy poem.

Ode to Gay Men

 

There is a certain kind of ma that gets my heart aflutter

I try my best to ignore it

But every time I see one my cheeks flush and my legs begin to shutter

 

It seems a waste of time, for the men I love are gay

I’d have no change with Elton, Rock Hudson or James Dean;

George Michael wouldn’t choose me but I’d take him any day

 

I fell in love with the love of Alex the Great, though maybe he was bi

I attempted to leave my homo-loves and turned to Monty Python

Sure enough Graham Chapman was gay, why do I even try?

 

I defy anyone to fund a topic I can’t bring back to my boys

I found the “unmentioned love” in many famous books

I even see the undertones in my cousin’s baby toys

 

 

It seems my heart belongs to those who won’t give me time of day

For better or worse and forever, though I don’t know why

It seems a waste of time for the men I love are gay

 

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Jun 27 2008

In Memoriam

Wednesday night the world lost a remarkable person, Anna Artuso Puma. She was 86 years old. Though Puma wasn’t a celebrity in the strictest definition of the word (is a widely recognized or famous person who commands a high degree of public and media attention), to those who knew her she was a star.

 In the 1960s Anna and her husband, John opened Artusos Bakery in the Woodlawn section of the Bronx. From that time on she became a part of what it meant to be from the neighborhood. Anyone with in a twenty mile radius knew that the best pastries came from Artusos. But it wasnt just tasty treats that made the bakery special, for those who grew up within walking distance, it became like a second home.  

Some of my earliest memories are of going there with my mother, and being welcomed with open arms. The air would always be filled with the sweet aromas of freshly backed treats that, once in your mouth, were almost as warm as the hugs Anna would always give me. It wasnt shopping it was like visiting family.

And it was like that for everyone. Once you visited, you were remembered forever. Graduations, Birthdays, weddings, Anna was a part of every important celebration in, if only through the love backed into the cakes.

She never forgot anyone. When the troops were sent to war in Vietnam, Desert Strom, and most recently Operation Iraqi Freedom; baked goods were sent over to them (for free) as an incentive to make it home.

Anna gave the world more than just mouth watering delicacies, she gave everyone a feeling of self-worth, and on a more personal note, she gave a little girl the adoring grandmother she otherwise would not have had.

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Jun 24 2008

maybe it’s just me…

Published by cherrylemonade under TV Edit This

 I know we live in an instant gratification world. We have instant coffee, we fast forward commercials, internet connections are at lightning speed, but I think we’ve gone too far with VH1’s special I LOVE THE Millennium.

I was a big fan of I LOVE THE 90’S and I LOVE THE 80’S.I even liked I LOVE THE 70’S, even though I wasn’t born for the actual decade. It’s not that it’s not an entertaining recap, it’s just that I can’t understand being nostalgic about a decade that doesn’t end for another year and a half.

It almost reminds me of being a small child when you and your friends saying things like, “remember yesterday when we did… yeah that was fun.”

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Jun 23 2008

Sayng Goodbye to a true original

Yesterday, comedian George Carlin died of heart failure, he was 71 years old.

           

Carlin was born May 12, 1937 in New York City. The following July his Mother took Carlin and his older brother Patrick, then 5, and left his father, moving to a farm in the Catskills. They were legally separated in December 1937. His father would die seven years later; Carlin had said that he couldn’t remember him.

           

In 1953 Carlin dropped out of school and Joined U.S. Air Force in 1954. During his time in the service he receives three court-martial and frequent Article Fifteens (form of punishment just below court-martial).  He was given general discharge under honorable conditions in 1957.

           

Carlin started his career in show business in July 1956 when he became a disc jockey job at radio station KJOE, Shreveport, La. In 1959 he moved on to Boston’s WEZE, where he worked for three months. Also in 1959 he landed a deejay job at KXOL, Ft. Worth, Texas, where he met Jack Burns.

 

 In February 1960, Carlin and Burns left Texas for Hollywood in pursuit of a career as comedy team, Burns & Carlin. The following month Burns and Carlin took three-month job as morning radio team, “The Wright Brothers, at KDAY, Hollywood. In May 1960 - Burns & Carlin begin performing standup at Hollywood coffeehouse, Cosmo Alley and also recorded their only album, Burns & Carlin at the Playboy Club Tonight. The duo quit radio in June 1960 and worked nightclubs until March 19, 1962 when they parted ways. A few days later, George started solo standup career at the Gate of Horn in Chicago.

 

In 1963 Carlin and wife Brenda Hosbrook Carlin, who he met while playing Raquet Club in Dayton, Ohio in August 1960 and married June 3, 1961, gave birth to their only child, a daughter Kelly. The couple stayed together Thirty-six years, until she died May 11, 1997. It was Mother’s Day and one day before his sixtieth birthday.

 

Carlin credited her for standing by him through his acid and cocaine habits in the 60’s and 70’s and three heart attack(1978, 1982, and Valentine’s Day, 1991) 

Along with an extensive film career, Carlin also wrote four books. His first book Sometimes A Little Brain Damage Can Help (1983) he described as more like a magazine. His First real book, Braindroppings (1997) stayed on NY Times bestseller list for 18 weeks. Napalm & Silly Putty (2002) spent 20 weeks on NY Times bestseller list. His latest, When Will Jesus Bring the Porkchops? was Published in October 2004.  

His first solo album, Take Offs and Put Ons, was released 1967, received Grammy nomination. His second album FM & AM (1972) went Gold and won a Grammy award. His fourth, Class Clown (1972) also went Gold, as did his fifth, Occupation: Fool (1973)- which was also nominated for a Grammy award- and sixth, Toledo Window Box (1974).  He was also nominated for Grammy awards for An Evening with Wally Londo, Featuring Bill Slazso (1975), A Place for My Stuff (1981), Playin’ with Your Head, What Am I Doin’ in New Jersey (1988), Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics (1990), and Jammin’ in New York (1992)- for which he won.

 

Other accolades include receiving Hollywood Walk of Fame star (1987),  being Inducted into “Comedy Hall of Fame” in 1994, a Lifetime Achievement Award at 15th Annual American Comedy Awards on Comedy Central in 2001, Free Speech Award from First Amendment Center at US Comedy Arts Festival 2002.

 

He will be missed.

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Jun 21 2008

Archie vs. Britney

Published by cherrylemonade under TV Edit This

I was watching a special about Britney Spears last night. I don’t really know why, I think I was too lazy to get the remote or maybe there was nothing on. Doesn’t matter, I was watching it.

Anyway, so they were talking about how her mother was a stage mom and all that, and how the reason she’s acting out may be because she wasn’t allowed a real childhood and she was being the “rebellious teen” now.  It also talked about how her father wasn’t a good breadwinner, which is what led to BS’s parents’ divorce. He was never really a part of pushing her career. I didn’t know that.  He was supposedly the bad father and, meanwhile, look who is taking care of her and her sister now. It’s the father.

This made me think about current teens in similar situations and I automatically thought of American Idol runner-up David Arculeta. The 17 year old, known affectionately as Archie by his fans and friends, wasn’t my favorite on the show this season. I was overcome by David Cook mania (see older posts). That being said I did really like the kid. He was an amazing singer, the first time I heard him I thought he was the sure-fire winner, and was polite and adorable all season long. I wanted to hug him, he was so cute. Hell, I wanted to adopt him- he looked about 7.

The only thing that was more publicized than Archie’s skills was the antics of his stage dad. He was even banned from the backstage area because how verbally abusive he could be. While rumors are sometimes only that, the poor boy looked petrified every time anyone would talk.

After he lost the show, reports claimed that his father was going full steam ahead getting him a record deal and that his mother was actually worse than he was in the crazed stage parent category. If this is true I truly worry for Archie. Say he loses it, say he goes all Britney in 10 years. Who will be the one to take care of him?

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Jun 20 2008

Comfortably Numb

Published by cherrylemonade under TV, political Edit This

I’ve decided not to continue with the portrait of my family that I’ve been doing this week. I really only wanted to do it for the week of Father’s Day and, unfortunately I didn’t write more because I had a busy week. Also, I do like the way that I left it off. I’m sure my family will show up again in my writing but for now I’m veering off into a different direction.

With the recent flooding and devastation in the mid-west, and the memory of the Christmas 2004 tsunami and Hurricane Katrina still fresh in everyone’s mind (and in the case of Katrina-the destruction remains) the issue of a numbing effect has come up.

Horror and destruction occurs and we all feel sad for the victims. We send our money and watch as celebrities talk on TV shows of the atrocious conditions that the people face. The event happens and we kind of move on, wanting the news to stop covering it because we have mourned enough. Let me explain that this is obviously not the case if a person has loved ones who were affected or said person has a special connection with the destroyed place. I’m talking mostly of the general public who sees strangers when they look at the devastation. These are not bad people, mind you, they have a heart for their fellow man but they prefer to consume themselves more with their own lives and their own surrounding. This is a rather normal thing.

Then I began to think what if something was to happen to New York again. After 9/11 the government, both local and national, has claimed that they have done a lot to insure our safety and prevent a repeat of the events of that horrific day. While there is some debate if this statement is indeed true, I will not go into the nation’s terrorism policies at this time.

What I will say, is that the major difference between 9/11 and the other events is that 2001 was man-made destruction while the others are cause by nature and as the levees have taught us, cannot be prevented by human measures. So what would happen if nature caused havoc visible in our back yard instead of on the TV?

Manhattan is an island and beyond that a rather small island, filled with a huge number of people. If there were a tsunami or hurricane here, and I understand that it isn’t likely but for arguments sake if, there is almost a guarantee that the entire place would be enveloped by water. Can you imagine the amount of people that would die? Not to mention the conditions that would occur after it. The water would be deadly. We wouldn’t be able to drink water except from bottles, many of us would lose family and friends, if not be victims ourselves. This is not very likely to happen, though nothing is absolute, but I urge everyone who changes the channel or skips the hurricane coverage in the news papers to think about how you would feel if those nameless strangers were instead your mother or father, or neighbors because in the end we are all neighbors. This Earth belongs to all of us and we are all in this life together.  

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Jun 17 2008

Part 2

“It’s the past that holds us all together,” My father has said. “That shared craziness. That’s what makes the bond so strong and keeps us together.”

And the bond is strong. The family tries to get together as much as possible and the core group usually manages to see each other at least four times a year. Sometimes it’s something big like a surprise party last or graduation bash, but it doesn’t have to be. Today it’s a simple barbeque to say farewell to summer. I’m kind of fascinated by this camaraderie. I know that most people don’t have this and that I am truly blessed.  When I was little, every time the class had to come up with a creative writing assignment, I always included my relatives. It didn’t matter how outlandish the story was, that fact always remained the same. It seems a bit odd I guess, but I could never imagine those trips, whether it be to Disney World or outer space, without them there. 

Another time, I guess I was 12, I remember making a video for a science project. I can’t remember what theory was being tested. What I do remember is that in the video the test group consisted my parents, uncle, aunt, and cousin. 

I figure we seem like one of those better- than- real- life families that you see on TV, in the flesh. We aren’t the Brady’s. There is no such thing as the perfect family, except on TV. There are always problems but I love my family despite, or perhaps because of, their flaws.

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Jun 15 2008

life with father (and family)

IN HONOR OF FATHER’S DAY I’VE DECIDED TO RELAY THE STORY OF ONE OF MY FAMILY’S FAMOUS (OR INFAMOUS) COOK-OUTS OVER THIS WEEK. THIS PARTICULAR ONE TAKES PLACE TOWARD THE END OF LAST SUMMER.

As we drive through Orange, Connecticut it feels like we’ve driven right into a picture.  The sky is a deep blue filled with fluffy marshmallow clouds that play against the trees which are changing ever so slightly to their Autumnal ombre.  My mother mentions to me how she loves the way the black road cuts across the green grass or how the gentle breeze of the warm day dances through the corn field right off the highway.

As we make the turn, my dad begins to croak “Somewhere over the Rainbow” in a sarcastic tone which quickly melts into nostalgia. “Remember when Poopie was scared of the Green Witch? I said Poopie don’t cry, it’s just Mabel. And you know what you did; you ran upstairs and looked at Mabel. Then you went back and looked at the witch and said, ‘Yep’.”             

We all laugh. My father looks in the mirror to make sure Porter is laughing and when he sees I am, a smile spreads under his greying mustache.

Maybel was my grandfather’s twin sister. She was also beloved by all of her nieces as nephews and, later, great nieces and nephews. She was married once, but only for three months. After that she chose to remain single. She never had children of her own, but her life was her family. Aunt Maybel was an amazing woman, but the thing that always seems to come up is her sticking resemblance to Margaret Hamilton’s green witch.             

 That’s what these trips are all about for my father. It’s a chance for him and his cousins to relive and rerun the Good Old Days, or what they considered the Good Old Days. It was a time before cell phones and emails, when New York baseball consisted of three teams and none of them were the Mets, when his parents were alive- when BoBo was alive too; when flying wasn’t an ordeal and driving was enjoyable. The days of stick ball games, when they were the “M&M boys.” Pop would always say “Roger Maris can’t hit for shit,” but they knew he was great.

TO BE CONTINUED

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