This is the coolest bike
in the world for short trips around town, the Strida.
Folds in seconds, relatively light, rolls when folded,
stores easily, grease-free Kevlar belt (instead of a
chain), able to fit easily on subways and buses. I've
had mine for almost 3 years and love it! Perfect
for NYC. Click here
to visit the site.
I am so proud of our dear friend Pearl Gluck who, after six years of work, debuted her new documentary film "Divan" this week at the Tribeca Film Festival. And let me hasten to add how tremendously proud I am at the same time of my beloved wife, Adrienne Haspel, who gets her first ever film credit as assistant editor on this film. Yay! I knew you could do it, baby! And while I'm at it, shout out to good friend Miklos Buk, who was second camera on the film.
I have seen this film at various stages of edits before, and honestly it just got terrifically better each time. It is now is nothing short of a great film.
It's hard to do the story justice in a nutshell and I don't want to give too much away, but it documents Pearl's attempt to understand her relationship to the ulta-orthodox Hassidic Jewish community she grew up in, in Borough Park, Brooklyn, till her parents divorced when she was 15 and she went to live with her mom. Her unlikely metaphor for this emotional and physical journey is a couch. More specifically, a "divan," as the Hungarians say, a sacred family heirloom that famous rabbis had slept on before WWII, which held a special place in her father's heart. All girls really want is daddy's approval, so six years later she's debuted her film at a big important film festival all about this couch and the amazing story that surrounds it.
You really have to see it. Hilarious, heartrending, fascinating, full of great characters, and in its final edit, a sharp, gripping narrative that pays off beautifully at the end.
The dilemma in going on about all this to you kind readers is that as of this writing I'm not aware of her having a distribution deal, but the film only debuted two days ago (Wednesday), to a packed screening room (and such a big screen!). I'm am fairly sure it's going to get decent exposure on the festival circuit anyway, and likely more mainstream attention, as it really deserves it. Check out the web site link above for opportunities to see it.
UPDATE, CALIFORNIA SCREENING TIMES:
For those of you in the SF Bay Area, you'll have a chance to see Divan in July:
July 23, 6.45pm @ the Castro
July 27, 2.30pm @ Wheeler Auditorium, Berkeley
I watch plenty of TV, including my fair share of realty TV, but I have so far managed to never see American Idol for more than a few minutes. I have to say therefore I was pleasantly surprised by Kelly Clarkson's appearance on Letterman tonight, winner of last year's American Idol, whose new debut CD Thankful is presently topping the Billboard charts. That's because it doesn't suck, or at least not the single she performed, Miss Independent (MP3 file). Granted, it's not going to make me stop listening to Beethoven, as my father said (when I hopelessly tried to introduce him, at 76, to Eminem), but I'd dance to it at the Bulgarian Disco. Nicely produced, and she's anyway half funky for a little white girl.
How odd is it, however, that she's got a hit album out at all, so completely manufactured a pop star such that she is. Then again, the Monkeys put out some pretty decent music, and even the Archies had a number-one hit with Sugar, Sugar, and they were cartoons.
You enter a url and it generates a poem created from that site’s contents. I like the poem I got from http://www.bruner.net
Bruner IMT Strategies, an expert in the Bruner
Blog! I.e., Bruner, Blog!
I.invite you
also happen to be
named Bruner? Communications Bruner.
of the Bruner Family Network.
Here's a sad fact: Americans can't sit around and sing songs together. I remember on a trip to Belgrade in 1994, I was at a small house party of a bunch of young Serb college kids, and as part of what appeared to be standard entertainment for such youths, they passed a guitar around among themselve and one by one each accompanied the group in a sing-along of various popular American pop songs. All for my benefit, as the visiting foreigner. I was quite humiliated that I had nothing for them in return. Not only, needless to say, could I not play the guitar myself, I couldn't even remember more than a few phrases of the lyrics to any of the songs they were singing, although I recognized them all. So I just sat there smiling like a big dope, while they wondered what the hell was wrong with this American who had no song in his heart.
I did finally redeem myself by tapping the dark recesses of my brain for a string of dirty jokes, but I was left wondering whether this sad songlessness was just me or generations of Americans. I decided to share the blame and conclude that most Americans simply can't sing, at least not together.
There is one exception to that rule, however: TV theme songs. And, of course, the greatest of them all: The Ballad of Gilligan's Island. Truly, who among you can't remember all the lyrics? For better or worse, Gilligan, the Skipper, too, the millionaire and his wife, the movie star and the rest represent the best of our shared culture.
In case you haven't heard, the great mind behind that immortal ditty, compose George Wyle, just died. As he himself said, "America doesn't want great music themes, just something it can remember."
