So D and I couldn't quite go to bed last night; the news that Michael Jackson died turned us both into news buffs: channel surfing and web watching (twitter went down, that's how you know there's real news).
Kinda reminded me of when Diana died, except there wasn't that everyone cares thing, more of a everyone from the seventies and eighties cares - like, do my friends teenage children care? I'm guessing not.
Aside: D and I were reminiscing that when Diana died twelve years ago, we didn't know each other, but we were across the Kilburn High Road from each other, little knowing what the future held.
I have Thriller and Off the Wall as real, old-fashioned albums, tucked away in my parents house, probably turntable-less, reminding me of a previous technical era, as much as the music. And they were probably among the first albums I bought - I might even have been in junior school.
When I was a kid, all the cool kids could do the (early) Michael Jackson dance with the slidey feet.
And the music. Was mesmeric. I remember bat mitzvah discos where they played Don't Stop Till You Get Enough and Thriller and everyone danced, even the people who didn't want to.
Maybe Wacko Jacko is like Woody Allen - it's the early works that count. I mean, the skin thing, and the alleged kid thing, and letting all the money go to his head, and hanging one of his kids out of a balcony, and just, well, the ... weirdness made him less interesting. Of course now there's a lot of weird celebrities who let the money go to their head (you always read about contracts stating how huge the entourage is and how they only drink freshly squeezed organic guava juice) but most of them don't have any huge talent.
Jackson, on the other hand, for all his (later) weirdness, really knew how to make music and dance: an old fashioned entertainer. Put all the other crap to one side. RIP, Michael, and like half the planet, I'll be looking out my albums for one last listen.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
On Tanya Gold and her hatred of wedding lists and dinner parties (and her writing in general)
I have loved Tanya Gold's writing since at least 2004 but I worry about her.
On the one hand, she's smart and funny. And although she seems not to like it when people say this, writes in a kinda-Jewish way which I like.
On the other hand, she let's it all hang out. She wrote that piece in the Guardian saturday magazine a year or so ago about getting back in touch with all her ex-boyfriends and details of their (then) sex life. Fascinating, in a car crash kinda way. But, too...
Too much. Too personal. Too honest. It moves beyond what's in a personal blog in the early nineties that no-one probably reads, to being in a major newspaper and everyone knows who you (and your friends and family) are.
There's always that delicate line when you're a writer. Being honest, un-nuanced, is considered a good thing. But how much of yourself do you share?
Like, if I'd just invited Tanya to my wedding, I probably wouldn't be that happy about this piece. (And no, I didn't have a wedding list: I agree. Wedding lists are for people who don't have two tea-towels to rub together because they're nineteen and live in Stamford Hill. We, on the other hand, were rather Noah's Ark: two of everything (and then some)).
On the one hand, she's smart and funny. And although she seems not to like it when people say this, writes in a kinda-Jewish way which I like.
On the other hand, she let's it all hang out. She wrote that piece in the Guardian saturday magazine a year or so ago about getting back in touch with all her ex-boyfriends and details of their (then) sex life. Fascinating, in a car crash kinda way. But, too...
Too much. Too personal. Too honest. It moves beyond what's in a personal blog in the early nineties that no-one probably reads, to being in a major newspaper and everyone knows who you (and your friends and family) are.
There's always that delicate line when you're a writer. Being honest, un-nuanced, is considered a good thing. But how much of yourself do you share?
Like, if I'd just invited Tanya to my wedding, I probably wouldn't be that happy about this piece. (And no, I didn't have a wedding list: I agree. Wedding lists are for people who don't have two tea-towels to rub together because they're nineteen and live in Stamford Hill. We, on the other hand, were rather Noah's Ark: two of everything (and then some)).
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Royal Mail profits may almost have doubled
according to the BBC, but they don't seem to deliver on their core competencies.
I'm waiting for three important documents in the post and it's been a few weeks.
Oh well, profit. That's what counts. Service, who gives a f***.
I'm waiting for three important documents in the post and it's been a few weeks.
Oh well, profit. That's what counts. Service, who gives a f***.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Even Tesco has got into online video
So, just about to do my weekly armchair shop, and I discover that Tesco has a series of Top Tips Videos (can't help wondering how many marketing peeps it took to come up with that great name).
Video quality: poor, kinda home-video-esque. Voiceover: slightly sarcastic, and a poorly written script which forces some woman to say "Sunday just can't come soon enough!" at the end of the yorkshire puddings video.
But they're good - I might even try poaching eggs just in water instead of in one of the several egg-poaching paraphenalia we have.
Video quality: poor, kinda home-video-esque. Voiceover: slightly sarcastic, and a poorly written script which forces some woman to say "Sunday just can't come soon enough!" at the end of the yorkshire puddings video.
But they're good - I might even try poaching eggs just in water instead of in one of the several egg-poaching paraphenalia we have.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
And we're at phase four
I take pandemic preparedness quite seriously. The current WHO phase of pandemic alert is phase four. Phase five is an actual pandemic.
Of course, a lot of the hoo-har is as much the media coverage, when it's getting to that slow news season; the Guardian even has a special web section for swineflu. And there might even be a swineflu Typhoid Mary.
Of course, a lot of the hoo-har is as much the media coverage, when it's getting to that slow news season; the Guardian even has a special web section for swineflu. And there might even be a swineflu Typhoid Mary.
UK homes to get swine flu advice
UK homes to get swine flu advice, the BBC tells me. And I can only think of one thing (as a marketer, and originally a direct marketer in the days when direct mail meant a lot of print / envelopes); that's a huge print job for someone.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Requiem for The West Wing
After coming up for nearly two years, I have just watched the final episode of The West Wing. I've dedicated approximately 150 hours, spent time with the characters, learned about incredible TV writing (from Aaron Sorkin), laughed, cried, understood what the Electoral College is...
... and all I can say is: wow. Brief lull in the fifth series, where the lack of Aaron's writing really showed (he wrote the first four "Emmy winning" seasons single-handedly) but it picked up again in season six.
A (wise and US-TV obsessed) friend said to me, when he realised I was only in season three, how lucky I was to have it all before me, waiting, for the first time. And it's only now it's over that I understand what he meant.
I'm going to miss all the characters. They really felt real. I'm totally going to miss the weird out-of-context Jewish references (often by not-even-Jewish characters) that I feel like Aaron wrote just for me to spot.
And I feel inspired. To write. To walk-and-talk. To say "what's next" (ironically, of course), and to imagine the lives of the people I got to know (Josh, CJ, Donna) afterwards. That's the power of really good writing: it lights a touchpaper in your imagination.
What's next?
... and all I can say is: wow. Brief lull in the fifth series, where the lack of Aaron's writing really showed (he wrote the first four "Emmy winning" seasons single-handedly) but it picked up again in season six.
A (wise and US-TV obsessed) friend said to me, when he realised I was only in season three, how lucky I was to have it all before me, waiting, for the first time. And it's only now it's over that I understand what he meant.
I'm going to miss all the characters. They really felt real. I'm totally going to miss the weird out-of-context Jewish references (often by not-even-Jewish characters) that I feel like Aaron wrote just for me to spot.
And I feel inspired. To write. To walk-and-talk. To say "what's next" (ironically, of course), and to imagine the lives of the people I got to know (Josh, CJ, Donna) afterwards. That's the power of really good writing: it lights a touchpaper in your imagination.
What's next?
Chocolate cloud cake
I also made Nigella's chocolate cloud cake (kinda... more orange, no cointreau, heart decoration optional) as it's basically a Pesach recipe. All chocolate and eggs, not a lot else. Basically, a baked chocolate mousse, but delicious.
I made it for the first seder, and it seemed to go down pretty well.
Here's the recipe.
I made it for the first seder, and it seemed to go down pretty well.
Here's the recipe.
The taste of Pesach: eingimach
It's pesach (actually chol hamo'ed, the days in the middle) and before Pesach started, I made eingimach, a traditional passover betroot jam.
It is truly the taste of my childhood. I opened the jar, on the first morning of yom tov, and the rich, sweet, slightly gingery smell transported me to my parents seventies kitchen, sitting having breakfast with Grandma Frieze, first day yom tov, matzah, and butter, and a shmear of eingimach. As a kid, I never liked the almonds, but I guess tastes mature, because as an adult, they quite did it for me.
And I realise that we are the adults our parents were when we were kids. I was the person going round, erev yomtov delivering my eingimach, and people's children are eating it, and I'm auntie (not that anyone does that anymore) Sasha, the grown up who made it.
Check out the recipe and more photos here.
It is truly the taste of my childhood. I opened the jar, on the first morning of yom tov, and the rich, sweet, slightly gingery smell transported me to my parents seventies kitchen, sitting having breakfast with Grandma Frieze, first day yom tov, matzah, and butter, and a shmear of eingimach. As a kid, I never liked the almonds, but I guess tastes mature, because as an adult, they quite did it for me.
And I realise that we are the adults our parents were when we were kids. I was the person going round, erev yomtov delivering my eingimach, and people's children are eating it, and I'm auntie (not that anyone does that anymore) Sasha, the grown up who made it.
Check out the recipe and more photos here.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Obama (Santos) in London
(Yes, still watching the West Wing, in series six).
I can't believe that Obama is here in London. If I didn't have a baby I'd totally be hanging out in town trying to catch a glimpse of him in person.
He's a politican you can trust (we think). He has a stylish/normal wife (we're pretty sure). He tells it like it is. He feels like someone you were at university with whom you always knew would make it, big time. I'm loving how he stood up to AIG. I can't believe he's here in my city, hopefully changing my world. I've been trying to reach A, an american friend of mine, for a couple of days, and I think she's just glued to the TV, soaking it all up.
So I can't quite beleive that what the G20 leaders get to eat is... Jamie Oliver's alright-mate fayre. Showcasing the best of British (samphire /sea kale), sure, but I think that Barak Obama and his ilk live in a world of diverse palates. A world of (religious) vegetarians, ethical vegans etc, so I can't quite beleive he's had the gall to serve "Goat's cheese starter (v)" as the "veggie option" as opposed to the more fullsome "Organic salmon from Shetland, served with samphire and sea kale, a selection of vegetables from Sussex, Surrey and Kent, and Irish soda bread."
Check out his menu.
And Jamie, don't let me think that my entire (almost) vegetarian cuisine is an afterthought.And vegetarians don't even get protein in the main course?
Get real, petal. Having ordered lunch (in the events industry) for tens of thousands of people over the years, I wouldn't dream of serving lamb - a lot of people would have a problem with that. Chicken or salmon is a little lighter, too.
Next time, Gordon, call me. I can get it for you (wholesale). How cool would it be if the G20 leaders came into town and Sasha from Kilburn, just a regular citizen, cooked the lunch?
I'm working on my menu....
I can't believe that Obama is here in London. If I didn't have a baby I'd totally be hanging out in town trying to catch a glimpse of him in person.
He's a politican you can trust (we think). He has a stylish/normal wife (we're pretty sure). He tells it like it is. He feels like someone you were at university with whom you always knew would make it, big time. I'm loving how he stood up to AIG. I can't believe he's here in my city, hopefully changing my world. I've been trying to reach A, an american friend of mine, for a couple of days, and I think she's just glued to the TV, soaking it all up.
So I can't quite beleive that what the G20 leaders get to eat is... Jamie Oliver's alright-mate fayre. Showcasing the best of British (samphire /sea kale), sure, but I think that Barak Obama and his ilk live in a world of diverse palates. A world of (religious) vegetarians, ethical vegans etc, so I can't quite beleive he's had the gall to serve "Goat's cheese starter (v)" as the "veggie option" as opposed to the more fullsome "Organic salmon from Shetland, served with samphire and sea kale, a selection of vegetables from Sussex, Surrey and Kent, and Irish soda bread."
Check out his menu.
And Jamie, don't let me think that my entire (almost) vegetarian cuisine is an afterthought.And vegetarians don't even get protein in the main course?
Get real, petal. Having ordered lunch (in the events industry) for tens of thousands of people over the years, I wouldn't dream of serving lamb - a lot of people would have a problem with that. Chicken or salmon is a little lighter, too.
Next time, Gordon, call me. I can get it for you (wholesale). How cool would it be if the G20 leaders came into town and Sasha from Kilburn, just a regular citizen, cooked the lunch?
I'm working on my menu....
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