Archive Page 57

Orson Welles slept here

On Saturday, we celebrated my mom’s birthday (observed). After a lovely family brunch at the always pleasant and taste-a-saurus Sardine, we migrated to The Baskerville for the so-called Tour of the Century. I was super psyched to see these apartments-turned-condos and the visit was only enhanced by the presence of my family. Sure, it was a pain to hold Bear for the whole tour (and most of that pain fell to AO), but it really was our fault for forgetting the carrier (it’s in the car, why do we always forget it!?). Anyway, the tour was super cool because it included a showing of one unit on all five floors, including the two-story penthouse; the whole place having been described as a community.*

On the first floor, we were shown two units that had been merged into one by breaking through a wall and installing a period-appropriate pocket door. Cle-ver! The real jaw-dropping part of this show, though, came when I heard this phrase, “And this was where Orson Welles slept for about a month.” Insert record needle scratch sound. Whoah, what? Yes, apparently Orson Welles lived in Madison (how did I not know this? Oh, maybe because it’s not necessarily true) for a short time. Hello!

The basement condo was super cool with a odd glass window into the guy’s bedroom as if it were some sort of museum exhibit. Anyway, the second floor condo we got to see was small, but super cute with the most amazing kitchen. The couple had reoutfitted the outlets with vintage-looking push button fixtures. Love those push buttons. The penthouse was pretty amazing. It was over 2000 square feet with a huge wraparound balcony with Lake Monona glistening a couple of blocks away. For all of its ample space, though, the condo featured only one actual bedroom, though the second floor boasted a cool Murphy bed that could be secluded from the living space with a built-in curtain hung from the ceiling. Because it was someone else’s space, not everything was my taste, but the space was remarkable and impressive nonetheless. I was ooh-ing and ah-ing.

I think the condo on the third floor may have left the longest impression on me. Not so much for what it looked like (though it was cute), but for what it held. A family of three – a mom, a dad, and a two-year old – call this 432 square foot one-bedroom condo home. I don’t know how they do it, but they do and they seemed quite happy and hospitable to boot. In fact, they were serving scones! I’ve been thinking a lot about them as I contemplate our space. Although we have just one bedroom, we also have an additional 800 square feet of living space than they, which includes a second full bathroom. In addition, of course, we have a significant basement space, which gives us oodles of storage. I’m so impressed by this family.

Actually, I’m impressed with all of the families who opened their doors to strangers for hours and hours over the course of two days. I can’t imagine they were jumping up and down to show off their most intimate spaces, but I hope they know how grateful we all are that they did so. And I’m so happy to have been able to see the spot where Orson Welles may or may not have slept.

*AO has since described the scene as a good starting point for Wes Anderson’s next movie.

More proof that Ebert was a gift from above

Aaron sent me this a few weeks ago and, for reasons I can’t fully explain, I just got to reading it today. Oh, Roger. Thank you.

This movie doesn’t scrape the bottom of the barrel. This movie isn’t the bottom of the barrel. This movie isn’t below the bottom of the barrel. This movie doesn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence with barrels.

Good God. And then there’s this.

Ok, so…

I got this article off of a facebook/Twitter (everything is connected these days, isn’t it?) post from GAOOG. I like it a lot, but I have two things to say. Well, maybe more than two. I agree, of course, that women being mean to women is upsetting, sad, unnecessary, hurtful, cliched and all things icky. I also note, though, that it’s really nothing new (see: Caroline Bingley & Eliza Bennet, for example). I’m not saying this because the post asserted it was a new phenom, but more just to note that I think we have a long way to go before we improve in this area. I also say it because we really probably shouldn’t be surprised at the Most Hated List. Well, maybe a little.

Ok, back to my two things. One, I acknowledge that probably most of the reason women are mean about other women is because of insecurity issues. Wanting to tear others down to make yourself feel better is a pretty well-established phenomenon, I think. Blah blah. On the other hand, sometimes I think women are mean about other women is because women tend to simply be more interesting than men. Yikes. Did I say that? I did. It seems to me it’s easier to criticize people with complicated personalities (and annoying ones) than people who are just boring. Or maybe not boring so much as just not interesting. Or maybe not not interesting but just not as interesting. I mean, I have about zero feelings about K. Stew, but I’m pretty sure there’s a lot going on in there. Whether it’s annoying or not probably has more to do with your age and your relationship to vampire movies than anything else. Remember when everyone was really mean about James Franco because he seemed to be kinda frenetic in his quest for degrees? It just seems like if you’re not really doing too much to show much personality, you’ll stay below the haters’ radar. This of course doesn’t really explain Chris Brown being so low on the list, but I attribute that to no one really caring about Chris Brown. Whoah. Did I say that? Moving on.

Gwyneth. This is my number two. I used to really like Gwyneth. I thought she was spectacular in Emma and The Talented Mr. Ripley. I loved her in Shakespeare in Love. I was never much of a follower of Goop (partly because I can’t navigate the site), but I certainly didn’t hate her for having a blog. I mean, that would be weird, wouldn’t it? I don’t really even hate that she has a crazy diet. In fact, I like that, as the author of the post alludes to, it’s nice to see her fessing up that it takes tremendous craziness to look the way she does. Not that she calls it craziness. What makes me worry about Gwyneth and her whole message is exactly the quote the post’s author ends with: “We have to be the women we want our daughters to be.” I don’t like Apple being so restricted in her diet (or Moses for that matter). It breaks my heart. Even if she allows them to “cheat,” they have to be incredibly aware of their mom’s (impossible) standards. And that’s sad.

The best word ever

Introducing a new category (that probably should have started in March): toddler stuff. That’s right, folks, say sayonara to baby stuff and please give a warm welcome to the toddler years.

Bear has been saying “uh oh” for a bit now (though she doesn’t always seem to use it in appropriate situations. Like, when I set her down in her highchair. Is there really something troubling about that?), but this morning she said “ball” and guess what she was holding when she said it?! You guessed it: a ball! Oh my God. I started to cry. She really might talk someday!

Ballydesmond

Gracie told me she was more than ok with changing the header image on this blog to honor her friend, and the world’s most joyful dog, Bally. I really don’t think I’ve ever met – or will ever meet – another dog as happy as Bally. Honestly, I don’t think it was possible for anyone who met her not to burst into giggles. Her joie de vivre was so contagious and sincere that I don’t even think the world’s most hardened, self-proclaimed dog hater could have done anything in her presence but fall in love with her.

For me, today started with learning that sad news that Bally’s long battle with her terrible illness was coming to an end. The day’s news got worse with the devastating story out of Boston. How do we go on when things seem so heartbreaking and we feel so helpless? I think we do so by remembering that there are good things in this world, in this life. One of those things that reminds me that life is good and worth living is the love of a wonderful dog. Rest, Bally. And thank you for letting us know you.

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