Sense and the City: Boomerang and the butterfly
Boomerang
Were you aware that May is National Pet Month? In honor of it, for this week’s Sense and the City, out in print in today’s Ticket, I present the tale of Boomerang and the butterfly:
Boomerang is my cat, so named because when he started hanging around my house as a stray, whenever I shooed him out of my yard, bang, he’d come back again. Just like a boomerang.
Eventually, he charmed his way into my heart and home. I adopted him, moved him indoors, domesticated him (um, yes, that means I neutered him) and made peace with being considered a crazy cat lady, with not one, not two, but three rescued cats.
When he was wild, he would sit a few feet away from me as I worked in the yard pulling weeds or digging up old tree stumps. He’d roll in the grass, climb trees, hide under the fallen palm fronds and play in the leaves when I raked; it was almost like having a dog.
He’d catch turtles in the nearby pond and hunt lizards and birds. Many mornings I opened my front door to find a dead something or other he’d caught and brought home with pride as a present for the woman who was now feeding him so well he no longer needed to eat what he killed.
After adopting him, I trained him to walk on a leash so he could still enjoy the evening air, stretch his legs in the grass, sniff the air and remember his former life of freedom.
One evening, I took him on a walk along the long row of Mexican petunias bordering the sidewalk in front of my house. As we meandered along, a butterfly floated past us, flitting in and out among the bushes. No ordinary butterfly this, it was large and magnificent — dark brown with just a thin line of yellow along the edges. As I stopped to watch him, Boomer laid down on the sidewalk, enjoying the warmth it still had from the hot day.
Check out the conclusion to the story over at the Ticket website.
Sense and the City: The mystery of moms
The cover of Diane Keaton's memoir, Then Again
Mother’s Day is coming up this Sunday, and rather than just do brunch (like you’ve done every year for the past decade), why not reflect on what makes your mom tick, and take some time to get to know her? That’s the subject of this week’s “Sense and the City,” out in print in today’s Ticket.
Here’s a sample:
Actress Diane Keaton focuses much of her new memoir, “Then Again,” on her mom — helped by having access to 85 volumes of diaries her mother wrote over the course of her life. The journals contained thousands of pages of her mother’s most private thoughts about herself, her children, her marriage. I don’t know if Keaton knew her mom all that well while she was alive, but she sure gained entirely new and perhaps sometimes shocking insights into her mother after her death through these journals.
In this day of electronic correspondence and Facebook, fewer and fewer people are keeping journals, much less busy moms who nowadays even keep their grocery lists on their smart phones.
The roles moms play, though — as breadwinners, carpoolers, laundresses, housecleaners, homework-helpers, grocery-getters, button-sewers, advice-givers — haven’t changed much, and those busy duties make it even harder to get to know them. Unfortunately, many children take it for granted that they know all there is to know about their moms.
After all, “Mom” encompasses everything. For most kids, the concept of “Mom” is that of a bottomless pit. Everything goes in — every desire, want, need, curiosity, whim, joy, heartache, drama, catastrophe and success is poured in — but not much about Mom ever gets to come out.
How can it? They’ve got to attend to your needs first.
For the rest, head over to the Ticket website.
Sense and the City: Sportsmanlike behavior
Curt Schilling (Photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
The early weeks of baseball season have been making me think about why men love sports so much — and why men love to play sports so much, even when they get too old to compete with the young guys. I wrote about it for this week’s Sense and the City, in print in today’s Ticket. Here’s a taste:
My older brothers were athletes and though I was the youngest, and a girl to boot — they still taught me what they considered to be the essentials of life: how to tuck a football in the crook of my arm and run like hell, how to throw a lateral, how to fake left, how to shoot hoop and aim for that sweet spot on the backboard, how to go in for a lay-up.
Later when I started dating, I always seemed to end up with guys who had a seemingly bottomless wealth of knowledge and superior recall of stats and names and years and coaches and where their favorite players went to college. (Though I’ve wondered, with a couple of boyfriends, how the heck they could remember the number of some obscure player’s high school jersey, and yet still manage to forget my birthday.)
Men always seem so unusually happy when they’re watching sports on television or when they’re getting their clubs out to go hit a few, or when they’ve just come back from an afternoon of Ultimate Frisbee. When I hear a man whoo-hooting with excitement over a touchdown, or see the ultra-relaxed smile of a man who’s just run six miles, I feel like I’m getting a rare glimpse into his interior emotional world.
Most of all, I love men’s never-say-die attitude about their bodies. I admire the way they keep showing up at the court for a game of pick-up with guys half their age, keep tying the shoelaces on their running shoes even when their knees are close to giving out, keep digging the football out of the closet on Thanksgiving Day to throw glory day passes to their young nephews in the backyard.
Read the rest over at the Ticket website.
Sense and the City: Shakespeare’s words to live by
Frankie Alvarez plays Hamlet in the Asolo Repertory Theatre production of Hamlet, Prince of Cuba (Photo by Scott Braun)
It’s tax season, but rather than turn to a CPA for advice on how to file, I’m reading Shakespeare. Check out my newest Sense and the City column to find out why.
Here’s a preview:
William Shakespeare was born — and died – in the month of April. Even if you’ve never read one of his plays or sonnets, I’m sure you know his words. “Every dog will have its day,” “star-crossed lovers,” “dead as a doornail,” “bated breath.” Even, “Knock, knock! Who’s there?” — just a small few of the many Shakespearean phrases that are part of everyday English language.
Wit and drama aside, Shakespeare’s plays are above all else immutable lessons in living with integrity, a quality which seems as on its way to obsolescence as the American penny — something we fish out of the bottom of our pockets only after we’ve hit rock bottom.
After all, these days, if you’re caught doing something wrong or saying something egregious, you simply show up looking contrite on Good Morning, America or make a tearful confession to People magazine, and voilà, your integrity — or at least your viability in the marketplace of public opinion — is restored.
In a world that increasingly thinks that doing the right thing is simply doing the wrong thing and not getting caught, what relevance can Shakespeare have?
Read the rest over at the Ticket website.
Sense and the City: Picking the winners at this year’s Sarasota Film Festival
Miami-based actor Eric Aragon as Paul Fowler, with “The Perfect Wedding” director Scott Gabriel and line producer Matt Dunnam (a 2011 Booker High School graduate)
My column in this week’s Ticket is all about settling into the dark of the movie theater and enjoying some high-quality flicks, just in time for this year’s Sarasota Film Festival. Here’s a taste:
My brain is a sieve when it comes to remembering people’s names, the ticker symbol for my miniscule retirement investment and what I had for dinner last night, but just say the words, “Leave the gun; take the cannoli,” “I’ll have what she’s having,” “Do I laugh now, or wait till it gets funny?” or “Yippee-ki-yay [INSERT WORD THAT'S UNPRINTABLE IN A FAMILY NEWSPAPER]” and I can tell you the film title and character speaking without even scratching my head.
I live for those rare moments when the person I’m talking to nods, gives me a knowing smile, and says simply, “De Niro in ‘Casino’ ” after I toss the line “And the eye in the sky is watching us all,” into a conversation about Google or Facebook.
In other words, I’m a cinephile — a nut for movies and films (and yes, there is a difference). So of course, I love the fact that my hometown has its very own film festival, with its ever-growing film industry bona fides. Though I generally eschew the glitz, red carpets, celebrity appearances and pricy parties — give me a ticket, a dark theater and a film that makes me laugh, cry, cringe, grab hold of the person sitting next to me, feel like falling in love or think about changing my life — and I’m golden.
Read the rest — including the films I’m most pumped about — over at the Ticket website.
Satisfy your jazz jones in Sarasota
Jennifer Leigh and Her New Digs offer jazz in April
Would you rather go naked? Does anyone love a bare-faced woman?
Somewhere along the line, women bought into the idea hook, line and sinker that to be “professional,” “sexy,” and most of all “acceptable” — we had to put paint all over our faces. Not all women feel this way, of course, but with billions upon billions of dollars spent annually on makeup in the U.S. alone — it’s a fair bet a lot of them do. Read today’s Sense and the City column on the conundrum of the made and unmade face!
March Birds Herald Sing
A Crow and Mockingbird make strange fence-fellows near my house.
Read the rest of this week’s Sense and the City column in the Sarasota Herald-Tribune TICKET today
Women Make Great Entrepreneurs!
photo courtesy of www.heraldtribune.com
Spring Break When You’re No Spring Chicken!
Sea turtle ready for release (courtesy Mote Marine Lab)
Click here to read my suggestions — everything from Nautical Nights at Sarasota Architectural Salvage to benefit Mote Marine, Family Promise of Sarasota’s Just Desserts, and getting some meditation mojo from none other than Gary Halperin.Take a Break for Spring!