“In The Night Kitchen” relies on the penis for its success and notoriety.

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This reading of In the Night Kitchen got a lot of attention on the Internet last week with the passing of James Gandolfini.

And Gandolfini delivers a spectacular reading of this Maurice Sendak classic, but let me go on the record as saying that I do not like this book at all.

Perhaps it’s because I first read the book when I was 40 years-old and therefore lacked the childhood nostalgia that can occasionally prop up lesser works of art, but I find the story to be strange, creepy, frightening, unnecessarily graphic and most important lacking a cohesive and compelling narrative.

Frankly, I think that had Sendak not included the little boy’s penis in the illustrations, this book would have disappeared into obscurity.

I think the inclusion of the penis gained the book its initial notoriety and has continued to allow it to stand out as something different and unusual.

But not very good.

A mother’s nightgown teaches a woman a universal truth of life.

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Katy Waldman of Slate wrote a piece about mistaking her mother’s nightgown for a sundress and accidentally wearing it to work.

Want to guess what happened when this twenty something editor of Slate arrived at the office wearing her 60-year-old mother’s nightgown?

If you said absolutely nothing, you’d be correct.

Most miraculously of all, no one had seemed to notice. (I checked with co-workers the day after I found out about the gaffe, and they pled total obliviousness. Plus, as of now, I still have my job.)

Waldman waxes on amusingly about the possible lessons learned from this experience but eventually lands on the real lesson:

“How you look really doesn’t matter as much as you think.”

It’s a universal truth that takes so many people so long to learn, and for a great many, it is something that is never learned. The fact that Waldman has come to this understanding in her twenties is an accomplishment.

It often much longer to come to this realization.

In fact, if Waldman is single and you live in the Washington, DC area, I would suggest you find and marry her immediately. There’s nothing better in the world than being married to a woman who can throw on a tee shirt, a pair of jeans and a baseball cap and leave the house without a thought about makeup, hair or any other nonsense.

I made a list of things I wanted in a wife before I met Elysha, and this was one of them. I also wanted her to be British, speak Spanish and be independently wealthy, but I’d take her confident, carefree nature over almost any other quality any day.

Last week our school hosted its annual fair. One of the featured attractions of the fair is a dunk tank. Every year teachers climb into the tank and allow children to attempt to dunk them into the water below.

Every year I am surprised that more teachers don’t volunteer for this opportunity. How often in your life are you going to have the chance to sit in a dunk tank and make children laugh? It’s one of those experiences that you will never forget.

While there are many good reasons not to participate in the dunk tank, I’ve been told by colleagues in the past that one of the reasons they don’t volunteer is because they are worried about their hair and makeup. I politely nod at this assertion, but in my head, I’m thinking something like this:

“The only person who even notices your hair and makeup is you. Honestly, no one gives a damn about what you look like, and we almost never notice your appearance on a day to day basis. You know those “good hair days?” You’re the only person on the planet who knows your having a good hair day, and more important, you’re the only one who even cares. You have the opportunity to make a lifelong memory. You have the chance to make kids laugh. You’re going to let your hair stand in the way? That’s either tragic or pathetic. No, it’s both.”

Despite a host of parental assertions, character-building literature and after-school specials,  people continue to  believe that appearance matters, and while it may to a small degree (and for a small, materialistic percentage of the population, it might mean a lot), Waldman is right.

How you look really doesn’t matter as much as you think.

For Waldman, this realization required accidentally wearing her mother’s nightgown to work (though she was probably on the path to realization before this incident. For others, this truth tends to come with age, increasing self confidence and wisdom.

For people like me, a childhood spent with ill-fitting, hand-me-down clothing and $5 haircuts teaches you this lesson. Though you’re clearly not wearing any of the trendy clothing that your classmates are wearing, you eventually realize that no one seems to care. You worry like hell about it for a while, and then one day you come to the understanding that clothing is fairly irrelevant. Your hair is fairly irrelevant. Even things like your weight and height are fairly irrelevant.

If you’re funny, brave, well informed and occasionally helpful, that’s about all you need in life to be accepted.  

If you don’t believe me, if you think that this scene from The Devil Wears Prada actually possesses a kernel of real truth, I suggest you wear your mother’s nightgown to work one day and see what happens.

Wedding etiquette torn down by one of the most popular advice columnists in the world. I’m impressed.

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Emily Yoffe, the Ask Prudence advice communist for Slate, recently did a podcast in which people were able to ask questions about wedding etiquette via the telephone as part of Slate’s wedding issue.

Yoffe tends to lean toward tradition and formality, which differs from my natural inclinations, but I found myself both in agreement and incredibly impressed by her answers during the course of this podcast.

In response to a bride-to-be who recently learned that her mother-in-law plans on wearing a cream-colored dress to the wedding, Yoffe told the caller not to say a word to her future mother-in-law about the choice of color. Yes, it’s true that it’s traditional for only the bride to wear a white dress to her wedding, but Yoffe assured the bride that no one is going to mistake and the mother-in-law because their dresses are similar in color, nor does the mother-in-law’s dress have any bearing over the enjoyment that the bride should have that day.

Moreover, and more important, she also implored the bride to take the high road if someone commented on the dress color at the wedding by simply stating that she thought her mother-in-law looked beautiful.

The tradition that the bride is the only woman wearing white at the wedding is true enough, but Yoffe is also willing to acknowledge that this is a fairly meaningless tradition, and that the bride’s relationship with her mother-in-law, who has already bought the dress and expressed her love for it, is more important than ridiculous matters of dress color.

Yoffe also acknowledges the likelihood that the bride would speak about the mother-in-law’s decision behind her back and is wise enough to advise against it. I cannot tell you how many times my respect for a person has eroded after listening to them make petty, backbiting, materialistic comments like the ones Yoffe anticipated about someone who is not in the room. 

Another caller expresses her concern over the mounting cost of four weddings that she is going be in this year as a bridesmaid. As a fulltime student with a part-time job, the cost of the dresses, the alterations, shoes and the out-of-town bachelorette parties has become too much for this woman’s checking account to bear. She asked Yoffe if it would be acceptable to not bring a gift to the wedding.

Yoffe says that you are obligated to do “only what you are able to do.”

Then she speaks blasphemy:

“Gifts are optional.”

Except it’s not blasphemy. We all know how much it costs to be a bridesmaid these days with bridal showers, bachelorette parties and wedding costs.

What kind of bride would not acknowledge and understand this when it comes to the bridesmaid’s choice of gift?

A despicable one, perhaps, but you shouldn’t be serving as bridesmaid for a despicable person.

Yoffe goes on to say that you can pick up something small but nice for as little as ten or twenty dollars, wrap it up and you have “discharged your duty.”

Hallelujah.  

What Yoffe fails to acknowledge is the disgusting and all-to-common custom of discussing the quality, choice and even cost of gifts with friends and family members after the fact.

“Can you believe that Aunt Judith only gave me $50?”

“My friend, Tina, went off-registry and bought me this awful looking vase that I’m sure was on sale.”

“What did Kim and Joe give you for your wedding? Were they as cheap as they were with me?”

On this week’s Slate’s DoubleX podcast, Slate editor Allison Benedikt actually argues in favor of bridal registries for this very reason, claiming that the potential gossip material that bridal registries provide is too valuable to allow the tradition die.

If this woman follows Yoffe’s advice and gives an inexpensive gift or no gift at all, it is likely that the bride will gossip about her, maybe only to her parents or sister or favorite cousin, but probably more.

It’s possible that the bride possesses the degree of grace, dignity, restraint and/or perspective necessary to to never speak about the quality of this bridesmaid’s gift, but I fear those people are few and far between.

As vile and disgusting as this kind of gift gossip happens to be, I have seen far too much of it over the course of my lifetime to believe that it won’t happen here.

Still, I agree and admire Yoffe’s advice. She’s right. The cost of the gift should never matter, but it should especially never matter when a bridesmaid is involved.

To hell with the possible gossip. If you spend hundreds of dollars on a dress, shoes, alterations, hair, a wedding shower and a bachelorette party, you should not be expected to also purchase a wedding gift.

Only a loser moron materialistic cretin who sucks at life would say otherwise.

I don’t love Star Trek, but this most recent Star Trek TELEVISION SHOW is amazing.

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I have never been a huge Star Trek fan. The writers of Star Trek had the entire universe at their fingertips, and yet again and again they placed their characters in places like the Old West, Nazi Germany and the goddamn holodeck.

I don’t want to see cowboys and Germany soldiers. I want to “new life and new civilizations.”

That said, a new web series called Star Trek Continues is impressive.

Star Trek Continues takes up where the original series left off, even creating a vignette that takes place moments after the final scene of “Turnabout Intruder”—the final episode of the original series, a clever way of tying it all together. Two other shorts are available as well. And now they’ve released their first full-length episode: “Pilgrim of Eternity”.

The best thing about this series, and especially this full length episode, is that it’s specifically created to appear as if it were made in the 1960’s. Not only are the sets identical to the original show, but the music, the sound effects and even the makeup and lighting are identical to James T. Kirk’s original Enterprise.

Obviously the actors have changed, but the casting director did a terrific job of finding people who matched their 1960’s counterparts well.

The episode is good enough, and I’m happy to report that Kirk and Spock don’t travel back the the Great Depression in order to solve a mystery, but I had more fun just examining this new piece of film constructed to appear fifty years old. 

107 Federal Street update

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As you may know, my sister and I write a blog called 107 Federal Street (named after the address of our childhood home) where we attempt to recover and discuss memories from our childhood.

107 Federal Street

The purpose is twofold:

1. My memory from childhood is good, but my sister has an unbelievable memory. She can tell you what she wore on the first day of school for every year of schooling. She remembers names and dates and events like they happened yesterday. As such, she is an invaluable resource if I ever decided to write a memoir about my childhood (which I will likely do someday). This blog is a means on mining that memory and recording it somewhere in the event that I need it someday.

In short, I’m using my sister for my own eventual benefit.

2. I like to think that we are creating a record that our children could read someday so that they can learn a little more about their parents’ life and upbringing. Our mother passed away six years ago, and with her passing went all the memories from her childhood. They are lost forever. While I have no intention of ever dying, pianos fall out of windows from time to time, so you never know when life is going to squish you. This record is for my children to enjoy someday.

Happily, readers have been enjoying it, too, responding often and favorably to me about what we write.  Kelli and I are currently on a roll. We’ve posted ten times in the past two month, including posts on our long lost step-siblings, our childhood pets and their frequent, brutal deaths, our elementary school teachers, our childhood poverty and more. If you’re interested in reading about any of these things, you can find our blog at 107federalstreet.blogspot.com. 

The opening number of the 2013 Tony Awards was one of the most astounding performances I have ever seen. You must watch.

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My wife sent me an email with a title that read:

Amazing. Worth watching.

She was referencing the opening number of the Tony Awards, and while I was sure that it was lovely, I suspected that most of her adoration was the result of her crush on Neil Patrick Harris.

I was wrong. Her title was truly an understatement.

Even if you have never been to a Broadway show and have no interest in the theater, this must be seen. The amount of work that went into this performance, the astounding level of talent required to pull it off and the sheer courage displayed in attempting this mind-numbing, heart-stopping opening number of the Tony Awards on live television is breathtaking.

Sincerely. It is a performance for the ages.

My favorite part of the video is the open-mouthed expressions of the Broadway elite as they watch Neil Patrick Harris do what seems to me, and perhaps even to them, impossible. 

Ducklings versus a speeding motorist

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I love this.

Not only does the man in this video have his priorities straight, but he has allowed this potentially embarrassing video to go forth into the world.

As a person who was arrested and tried for a crime he did not commit, my trust in police officers is not what it used to be. As much as I honor and respect the job that they do, they also scare the hell out of me.

Moments like this go a long way in mitigating that fear.

The limited palate of an illogical toddler

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My four year-old daughter’s palate is currently limited to fruits, bread, cheese, yogurt, a tiny smattering of vegetables and bacon.

She doesn’t know that bacon is meat. 

In truth, it’s not an entirely unhealthy diet, but my wife and I would like to see it expand considerably. We also understand that this is common for toddlers, and in comparison to many, we are fortunate.

Still, it’s annoying.

By contrast, her brother, who will celebrate his first birthday  this month, has yet to find a food that he will not eat.

Earlier this week, we convinced Clara to try a cherry tomato, assuring her that it was a fruit. She took a bite, declared that she liked it, and said that she wouldn’t be taking another bite.

We considered this a victory.  

Usually this is what we see when she tries something new.

107 Federal Street back in business

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My sister and I write a blog together about our childhood called 107 Federal Street (our childhood home address).

107-federal-st-blackstone-massachusetts-01504

It’s my underhanded way of mining my sister for stories about our childhood that I can one day use for a memoir.

We also hope to create something that our children will enjoy reading someday.

Kelli’s been in transition for the last few months and without a computer, but she’s up and running again and we’re writing.

My sister, who has the memory of a robotic elephant, writes on a topic first. Then I respond with my own post.

Over the weekend we posted twice to the blog.

The first  is my post about our food Nazi parents (in response to Kelli’s previous post on the same subject).

The second is Kelli’s post about adventures at our bus stop.

In addition to our blog, I’m trying to convince her to write a memoir. The last twenty years have been an interesting time for her (to say the least), and she’s a good writer.

She must get it from me.

Deep thoughts on God, pets, holidays and the Internet: Ian Martin covers it all

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British author Ian Martin offered 60 thoughts on turning 60 years-old.

The whole piece is excellent. Here are a few items that I especially loved:
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20. A pre-internet world is unthinkable.

21. There wasn't any internet 30 years ago.

It’s true. And though the Internet is 30 years old, it is less than 20 years old for most of us. I was active on the Internet in 1995, but most of my classmates at Trinity College were not. Even then, the Internet was a shadow of what it is today. There was no commerce and little two-way communication between users. In terms of ubiquitous use by a large segment of the American public, the Internet didn’t truly take hold until the beginning of this century. Despite all this, it’s almost impossible for me to imagine a world pre-Internet today.

Also, please note that Martin doesn’t capitalize the word “internet.” I’m not sure if this is a British convention, but it’s the way Internet should be spelled.

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24. Holidays seem so much more arseache than they are worth.

I love this for two reasons.

First, the word “arseache” is brilliant. I don’t know if it’s a word that the Brits use on a regular basis, but I love it. So much better than the phrase “pain in the ass.”

Also, I agree with him. Holidays of every kind are almost always a pain in the ass.

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41. Oh shut up, of course God exists. Even if God turns out to be just science in fancy pajamas. Honestly, you think all this stuff "militant here in Earth" is not being saved to some "memory cloud"? There are Tumblr accounts for people's bloody cats.

God is “just science in fancy pajamas.” That’s a religious view I can almost get behind. 

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My wife would most heartily approve the following:

11. I have nothing against pets in theory. It's just that, in reality, pets are noisy, selfish, practically incontinent, morally depraved and just really stupid. They are walking, flapping analogs of your own paranoid self-loathing. You take your soul-searching Labrador for a walk and a chat. I'll just watch a bit of telly.

I am reminded at least once a week that we will not be getting any more pets ever again.

The genius and insight of Dove is unparalleled

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I would love to work for Dove. The things that Dove has done in terms of women and beauty are masterful.

This video is no exception.

As a man, I find it so hard and so potentially treacherous to comment on the problems (as I see them) in terms of women and image perception. But having worked almost exclusively with women for more than twenty years (including attending an all-women’s college), I think I have a perspective worth sharing (if not always appreciated).

Dove seems to strike the perfect tone every time. I do not. 

If you love this as much as I do, you can see the full documentary here.

New best headline ever

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Children swallowing poisoned beads was not my original plan. I swear.

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In 2012 I participated in the Books on the Nightstand Booktopia event in Santa Cruz, California. The culmination of the weekend is an event called the Celebration of Author, wherein each author speaks for about ten minutes.

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My talk, as well as that of author Cara Black, was broadcast on the Books on the Nightstand podcast this week. I spoke about the importance of reading Shakespeare by telling some amusing stories from fifteen years of teaching Shakespeare to elementary students.

You can listen to my talk (as well as Cara’s) here.

Jumping out of a plane without a parachute is dangerous enough. Adding an additional layer of danger is just stupid.

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I am not an overly cautious person. I have experienced my fair share of danger over the years.

I have almost died more than anyone I know.

I’m the only person I know who desperately wants to play tackle football with his friends.

I wear a helmet while riding my bike but only to set a good example for my students and children. If I wasn’t directly associated with so many kids, there is no way that I would be strapping that stupid thing to my head.

I have a book idea that would place me in a significant amount of danger in order to write. And I plan on doing it.

Despite my occasionally dangerous lifestyle, I think this is stupid. It’s amazing and daring and utterly mesmerizing, but it’s too much of a risk.

It’s unnecessarily dangerous. It’s stupidly dangerous. I do not approve.

Be different. But be prepared to suffer, despite what parents and teachers may tell you.

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While I think this book looks excellent, it also seems to embrace a fundamental flaw in the teaching of young people.

It’s an issue that I am slightly obsessed with.

We tell our children to be themselves. Be different. Blaze their own trail. Ignore peer pressure. Find their own style.

But unless those differences allow you to guide Santa’s sleigh on a foggy night (as is the case for Rudolph) or fly (as is the case for Dumbo), you are likely to lead a difficult life. People will punish you for being different. Nonconformity breeds contempt.

You may ultimately succeed, but it will never be as easy as your parents and teachers make it seem.

Nor will it be as easy as this book seems to imply.