New Year's Eve Lonely Heart

Why is New Year"s Eve one of those nights that has significance- I mean it's just a night- why is it built up into a big deal?

I guess on these so called "significant" days, like our birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years eve, Saturdays (kidding on this one), we are supposed to step back and ponder the significance of our lives-what we have been doing and what we hope to accomplish in the coming year.  Or, I'm not sure we are supposed to, but I do. I also tend to reminisce about previous birthdays, Thanksgivings, Christmases or New Years eves- I think because it is a natural thing to do (right?) and also I guess also to see if things have improved.

So this morning when I was doing my power walk/run (running- not so much on account of bum knee, iron poor blood, snow flurries and ridiculously icy wind) I was reminded of a New Year's eve I had when I was about 17.

I remember it was icy cold,(it were the icy cold that jogged my memory this morning), and my brother, Howard, who is 18 months my junior and his two best friends at the time, Lorne and Jeff and I were in Sainte- Agathe -des- Monts, a small town in the Laurentians in northern Quebec. I'm not sure how we got into town.  Lorne and Jeff, or rather their parents, had winterized cottages about 20 minutes away by car, so I don't know if we drove in or were dropped off or what. But the real question is not how, but WHY? Why indeed! Like I said, it was freezing cold- (the wind she blow blow blow) and it was dark, on account of it being eve in the winter.  I was 17 so the boys must have been 16 and none of us could legally get a drink in a bar, even in Quebec. We had a mickey of something- southern comfort or some such rot, which we were passing between us. We also were too poor and cheap to go and eat in a restaurant, so we were just walking around aimlessly. I don't know why I was with them- I guess I had nothing to do so they said come along. I knew Lorne and Jeff sort of like brothers- we had grown up and spent the last 10 summers at the lake together. At one point or another during the last few years we, (and by that I mean the individuals in our small group of friends- about 4 or 5 girls and 4 or 5 guys) were sort of "romantically" and I use that word loosely, involved with each other in various couples, (and at that time all heterosexually, though today I'm sure we would have experimented with "bi" because that is what the cool kids do),because we are all coming of age, geographically isolated in the summer, and learning about sexuality, alcohol and marijuana, so it was a natural thing, right? So I had fooled around with both of them in a pretty innocent, "making out", sort of way (but not together-  that would be kinky).

But really it was the guys who were good friends and they were undeniably and incorrigibly juvenile and immature (ya both dammit). They were laughing, playing with each other- skidding around on the icy streets, making farting noises, and getting drunk. But not drunk enough to take an interest in me. In fact I remember feeling blue, not just cause of the lack of circulation, but because I felt like such a loser.  It was so cold and black and miserable and there was nowhere to go and nothing to do.  I wanted to have a fun and interesting New Years Eve- cause NYE was a big deal and if your NYE went ok it meant things were ok and you were ok and normal and all, so-I wanted somebody -not my brother- do you mind! but one of the guys- Lorne or Jeff to hold hands with me, or walk with his arm around me and act like my boyfriend. I wanted a kiss on NYE as a minimum.

But it didn't happen. And I remember thinking- I could spin it as fun and cool to the outside world but I would know the truth. That I had nothing to do on NYE- and I had to hang out with my younger brother and his buddies, neither of whom was my boyfriend or even date, in the cold and dark and I didn't even get a kiss. I was a New Year's Eve Lonely Heart.

And even though tonight, Mr. Lovely and I will soon be going out for a New Years eve dinner with a group of very close friends and we will be inside (and hence warm) drink champagne, laugh and joke and ring in the New Year together and I believe I will get a kiss (I think Mr. Lovely will oblige), I look back on that NYE with a sadness and a longing- for my youth, for my innocence and naivete, for the edge, for the heartache and my resilience, and know that even though things are better in many ways that there was something bittersweet and important about that experience. It was sort of a big deal.

A Chicago Christmas Tale

A couple of years ago Meg and Phil couldn't come home for Christmas. They were just starting their clinical rotations in Chicago and had to work on Christmas day but had a few days off before that so we, ( Mr. L, Al , Ed & I) decided make the 7&1/2 hour trek to the windy city so we could all be together. If Mohammed won't go to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mohammed and all that. They lived in a dodgy part of town in an apartment complex that looked like it would make the perfect set for a murder thriller. I'm not even kidding. The elevator mostly didn't work and so you had to take the stairs which were dimly lit, (when lit) and had some wire fencing around the walls- don't ask me why.  I ran the whole time I was in the stairwell, thinking this could be my last run ever.  We met the owner of the apartment outside the building and he asked who we were and what we were doing there.  Do you mind? Who wants to know? But he actually wanted to help us cause he told us that we were ok ( meaning we would probably live) if we went out of the building and turned right. "Left is Afghanistan, man".  No, we did not want to go left- that's for darn sure. One day we decided to go for an outside run by the lake- right once out of the building. Here we are pre- run:

We're just trying to fit in, man, just trying to blend

Tempted as I was, I have held back on making this photo our family Christmas card. (Plus Phil was taking the shot and he would need to be in it.) Since we were all staying in the apartment and were saving a bunch on accommodation (and rest on account of the creepiness of the place), for a treat, I used Hotwire and got us 3 rooms in a downtown Chicago hotel for the night of Dec 23. We also went out for a vegan meal at Karyn's on Green which served crazy "fude" like fake "crab" cake sliders and "chicken" legs made out of seitan or almond butter. It was really freaky but delicious. Phil and his buddy, Eugene, who joined us for dinner had  enzymes- shots of digestive dietary supplements (ya vegan med students- kooky).

On Christmas eve morning, Al was still on the hunt for his secret Santa present. We do a secret Santa as our Christmas present giving one each, our then 9 year old friend E, (she is now 11 and still doing this for us, thanks E)- picked names out of a hat and emailed them to each of us -$25.00 max. The idea was to "get" the other person in approximately that amount of money. All of us almost always had to spend a  bit more but the aim was to keep it small.

So off we went- out on the streets of Chicago first thing on Dec 24. It was a sunny, crisp morning and I was feeling euphoric, having had a good night's sleep cause I wasn't ascared of getting murdered and as as we cut across Millennium Park to get to the shopping area, the air had a truly magical quality. We were passing the Bean - awesome and it wasn't tourist town. Wow- what a place to have Christmas. I had  wanted to get the family some famous Garrett's gourmet popcorn, (they now ship to Canada, btw- so happy days!) but wasn't quite sure where the store was- so Al and I were sort of rambling. It was pretty cool to be out somewhere new, urban, seeing different people, getting a new perspective on life at a time when we are normally so quiet, traditional and comfortable. There were Santas on many corners, ringing bells, lots of people out an about, big department stores with fanastical displays. A couple of neat things happened- by chance we found Garrett's- it was empty when we went in-not a soul in the place and by the time I had ordered and was paying for the multiple bags of popcorn- it was full- jammed up with people in line behind me and out the door. Where did these people come from?And so fast and quiet. Al said it was like being on the Trueman show with the extras coming late. Also Al and I went to Macy's- a beautiful 6 storey building with awnings and all the trimmings- it was so pretty and full of Christmas hoopla- music, lights, decorations, that I was delighted and wanted to experience it more fully.  A full crowd was waiting for the elevator and Al was the last to get in and everybody except him had turned around to face the door and he said " Now that I have your attention" as though he had summoned them there. Everybody cracked up and there was this easy goodwill between strangers sharing a joke on the morning before Christmas. Great stuff.

That Christmas eve we had a vegetarian meal round a bridge table and my secret Santa present was Mabel (of the Mabeldoyoumind). My secret Santa got me for sure. Knew just what I wanted and needed.

Sally and Mabel

So you you see where I'm going. Tradition is excellent and comforting but so is spicing it up and trying something different. You only live once and who knows- a change in perspective could be refreshing even on Christmas.

The McQueen/Fassbender Combination of Despair.

I love Michael Fassbender:

Michael in leather.

and I love Steve McQueeen, the writer/director- that is- this guy:

Steve in a bow-tie

(not to be confused with Steve McQueen, the "King of Cool" actor- this guy):

Cool & handsome, yeah, but also quite dead

ok- back on track- do you mind!

and I love Steve and Michael together:

Steve and Michael laughing- I'm thinking not during one of their films

Why you ask?

McQueen has written or co written and directed 3 films, Hunger (2008) Shame (2011) and 12 Years a Slave (2013) which are all are excellent, brutal to watch and all star Michael Fassbender. Coincidence? I think not. Not that Fassbender is brutal to watch- quite the contrary, but the subject matters are hard core -definitely not for the faint of heart. And Fassbender can deliver.

Hunger is a dramatisation of the true story of Bobby Sands, an IRA volunteer and elected MP, who participated in the no wash protest (it didn't go well) and led the IRA hunger strike (which eventually led to his death so also didn't go so well for him) in the Maze Prison in 1981. The Republican prisoners were trying to regain their political status when it was revoked by the British government. Lots of guard sadism and ruthlessness -so that's tough and watching a man die of starvation (Fassbender lost 40 pounds on a diet of nuts, berries and sardines (yuck) to do the film because he said otherwise it wouldn't be realistic - and oh it was, trust you me) was downright heart wrenching.

Shame is the fictional story of a sex addict, Brandon who is a handsome ad executive living an alienated and unconnected life in New York city and whose life is gets even more twisted and bizarre when his younger sister, Sissy, a messed up needy woman, played by Carrey Mulligan comes to visit. They are both struggling and in pain and because of the stellar acting, so are we. The cinematography is fantastic- and the story gruelling- we watch the unravelling of Brandon and it aint pretty. On the up side - there is the full frontal nudity of Fassbender (I say why not-it's just a human body- a lovely one at that- so no, I don't mind at all) but then the most lugubrious and mournful rendition of "New York New York" there ever has been, sung by Sissy in a New York nightclub- it is a version that makes you want to gnaw your arm off.

12 Years a Slave is also based on a true story about Solomon Northup who was a free man living in New York when he gets lured to Washington and then kidnapped and sold into slavery.  Again superb acting, brilliant nature shots which juxtapose the gorgeous scenery with the human cruelty and injustice, and what seems like accurate data, unflinching retold, make you want to weep.

Why am I telling you about these 3 film when they are obviously so emotionally fraught? It is because of that very thing.  My life is too antiseptic, comfortable and banal and I like being jolted off my couch and complacency by seeing the true grit of existence. It makes me sad, yes. But it also makes me think and maybe I need to get sad and I definitely need to think about the human condition- so for me this type of viewing is essential. You might want to give it a go.