9/11...Ten Years On

It's hard to imagine that it has been ten years since that horrible day, yet, time has marched on and while the wounds have scarred over, they are still very much with us. Each anniversary of this day that has come and gone over these last ten years had me torn between, "God, I am so sick of reliving everything over and over. Just stop" to watching every single news item, reliving every single moment in my mind's eye and praying.

I remember most of that day with a clarity that stuns me. And I was no where near New York City or Washington DC. I was here in Chicago and in my office at 300 W. Washington on the 21st floor, just three blocks north of the Sears, now Willis, Tower. I sat at my desk, opened my Diet Pepsi, then got into voice mail and started answering messages. It was just before 8:00AM Central Time and the first tower had been struck.

My co-worker Lisa came over to my desk, ghost white. "They think a plane crashed into the World Trade Center. There was an explosion."

"What?" In my mind I'm thinking a Cessna or some other small plane that had some engine trouble.

"They think it was a jet. There's a lot fire and smoke. We turned Good Morning America on because we had to adjust the picture on the new tv for the meeting later."

That brought me up short. "Holy shit!. Are you serious?" She nodded. Her blue eyes were so huge they looked like swimming pools. "We're all there watching, if you want to come on back. No one's here, really.." Our company had been having its annual conference so most of our office, at least all the bosses, were out in Las Vegas.

"Yeah. I've just got to finish up the consultant schedules."

"Okay." She left, but somehow I could not bring myself to do it. I grabbed my soda and headed to be with my co-workers. I walked in that room, just in time to see the second plane crash. All the oxygen was sucked from my lungs and I could not process what I had just seen live on tv. It reminded me horribly of that moment when I watched the Challenger explode fifteen years earlier. Everyone started exclaiming and crying. I dropped my soda and simply stared at the screen. I fumbled for a chair and sat down, my mind screaming "What the fuck?" over and over.

The next thing I remember, my friend was Teena handing me a napkin. I hadn't realized I was crying. I dabbed my eyes and continued to watch, ABC News had now taken over and Peter Jennings was the voice of reason to my scattered brain. The phone rang, making us all jump. Lisa answered and she started talking to one of our engineering consultants who happened to be in one of our member bakeries in New York. He said he didn't have long, but that he was going to extend his stay and try and rent a car because he didn't know if he'd be able to get out that night. They talked a while long, but I don't recall what was said because by this time the news that the Pentagon had been struck came across.

"Oh my God," another co-worker, Tom, exclaimed. "The Pentagon, too. I wonder how many planes were taken over? What other targets are there?"

Those words frightened me because we were right smack in the middle of downtown Chicago just up the street from America's tallest building. I ran to the window and looked out. I could just make out the top portion of the Sears Tower and my ears strained for the whine of a jet engine.

"Jesus Christ!" someone yelled, I spun back only to see a rumble of gray smoke and debris roll across the television screen. The South Tower had collapsed. I could not believe what I had just seen. It was weird and horrifying, like seeing a mass of red and slowly putting it together as blood stains.

Word came that a jet had crashed in Pennsylvania. We were starting to talk about that when a little while later the North Tower came down. I remember thinking with the rod on top, it looked like a collapsing birthday cake. A dumb thought, sure, but it was what ran through my brain at the time.

Talk started about other planes and other targets when we heard that the FAA had grounded all flights until further notice. But, they still could not account for four planes. A little while later, someone from the building manager's office came in and said that they were evacuating the entire Loop. I remember getting my stuff together and heading for the elevator. I was scared and wanted to take the stairs, but our building had people riding in the elevators with us and assuring us that this was the fastest way.

Outside was totally surreal. There was no noise at all. It was like the cemetery hush, magnified. All these people and cars, but no noise. I had a seven block walk to the train and I was terrified the whole time. I kept craning my neck, listening for a plane, yet trying to walk as fast as I could. I wanted my parents in the worst way.

The ride home on the train was a strange blur. I could not think, I could not concentrate on anything. My mind was just in a whirl. I got off my train and got on a bus. It was weird because instead of getting off the bus at the regular stop, I got off by old grammar school and walked that way to my parents' house. I had not walked that route since I was 14 and finishing 8th grade.

I stayed at my folks' house most of the rest of the day. My mom took me home later and I had a message from our company president, Bernie, saying to stay home and don't come in until Thursday morning. I watched the television all night and I recall that I went to bed right when the sun was starting to come over the horizon.

Ten years is a long time and yet, it still seems like just yesterday. This country has been changed forever. I have been changed forever. I think I'm going to do some serious reflection today and pray for peace.

I'm Baaaack...Insecure Writer's Support Group

I'm back, I'm back, I'm back!!!! I really hated being away from you all and missed you something fierce, but the good news is I'm DONE with my story. I'll share the pertinent details with you very soon. Lots of exciting things are planned for this month and there will be tons more news coming soon. I'm still discombobulated so bear with me.

I am very excited to be a part of Captain Ninja Alex J. Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer's Support Group. This is where we writers bare our souls and give a peek into our crazed craniums. We'll be talking about our struggles, insecurities, fears, hopes, breakthroughs, as well as sharing words of encouragement. There will be posts on the first Wednesday of every month for the group.

Today, I want to talk about one of my biggest fears in writing and that is my fear of my work not being good enough. I love to write, to tell stories, but when I am in the midst of working on something new, I reach this point where the words won't flow. I suddenly am overwhelmed with thoughts of "this story sucks," "what made you think you could ever write, you big loser" and I physically cannot write a word.

It's like going from finding golden nuggets in a river with a pan to having to take a pick ax to solid rock and getting nothing but rock with maybe a few flecks of gold. I hate every syllable, I get headaches, want to vomit and I feel trapped. My production level drops to the point where it will take me hours to produce a paragraph. Part of the reason I took a hiatus from the blogging was because I was having a serious breakdown over this story and I was making myself horribly ill. The day that I announced my hiatus, I had a migraine of epic proportions and could barely see to type.

Now that the thing is done, I am on pins and needles waiting to see what my editor will think. Will she hate it? Will I have to make a million revisions? This is story is different from anything I've ever written because for the first time, my main characters are gay. I wanted to write something to honor some very special friends. Did I do the characters justice? Will my friends like the story?

All these things crash around in my brain like a psychotic bowler every single time I write a story and I don't foresee it going away any time soon. How do you all deal with insecurities and fears?

Here are the other participants in the Insecure Writers Support Group and I encourage you to visit these amazing people. Pass along some blog love to them and you'll take away a lot from the experience. Thanks Alex!

News And A Short Hiatus

Remember ol' Gary Gnu from the Great Space Coaster Show? If you don't, that's okay, I'm just old and have obscure taste. LOL Anyway, his tag line was always "There's no gnews like good gnews and I have some good gnews to share. First, the awesomely cool iZombie Lover himself, Jeremy, has a wicked anthology of demented tales called Chatterbox. You should go and check it out immediately.

Second, Samantha Sotto, a really talented new author has her debut novel out entitled Before Ever After. This is a modern fairy tale about a woman who has lost her husband, yet through a stranger who claims to be his grandson, she finds that not everything is what it seems. There is a whole lot more to her husband than she had ever dreamed possible. An intriguing twist on second chances that is sure to keep you enthralled from first page to last. You can check out an exclusive interview with Samantha here at Hollywood Spy.

Finally, I am under deadline to complete a story and so I will not be posting for the next couple of weeks or so. I just don't have the time to devote to blogging right now with this story still unfinished. I will be around here and there, commenting when I can, but I really need the time to finish my baby. I'll have lots of cool things for you all when I get back. :) In the meantime, if you have something you want to share or that you'd like me to announce on here, you can always drop me a line at melbwrites@gmail.com.

Thank you so much for being the best supporters, cheerleaders and blog buddies in the world.

Hugs!

Happy Birthday, John Cazale

Today I am taking some time to talk about one of my favorite character actors of all time, John Cazale, on what would have been his 76th birthday. Best known as Fredo, the weak link in the Corleone crime family, John is considered by his colleagues to be one of the greatest actors of his generation. If he had lived, he would be mentioned in the same breath as Pacino, De Niro, Duvall, Hoffman, Hackman and Streep. Pacino has said that "all I ever wanted to do for the rest of my life was act with John. He was my acting partner." High praise indeed.

He only made five films, yet all five were nominated for Best Picture: The Godfather, The Godfather, Part 2, Dog Day Afternoon, The Conversation and The Deer Hunter. John himself was never nominated, though he did receive a Golden Globe nod for his turn as Sal in Dog Day Afternoon. He was recognized for his amazing accomplishments on stage, though, receiving OBIE awards for his performances in The Indian Wants The Bronx and Line. How's this for awesome, he appears through archival footage in The Godfather, Part III and this, too was nominated for Best Picture.

John had the kind of intensity that gets into your bones, drawing you unerringly into his character. You hate the person he's playing, he's weak and broken. Who wants to be the clown, the loser, the guy who falls apart? But he had a way of seeing inside those people, of finding their pain and bringing it to the surface. You despise Fredo and yet, you understand him. He's not the man he imagined himself to be. He never planned on being third best. Or Sal, the guy in fucked up circumstances that just snowball. John was not afraid to tackle these kinds of roles, having a well of compassion for them that showed in his performances. He was so good, he made the actors around him better. Michael Corleone would not be the guy he is without Fredo.

That intensity and cool extended to his personal life as well. Known for being a bit of a Romeo, John always had the luck with the ladies. He met and fell madly in love with Meryl Streep when they worked together in Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. He remarked to Pacino that he had "met the greatest actress in the history of the world." And considering her accomplishments, it's safe to say he was right. Meryl, herself, has said that John taught her about acting, to see other "possibilities" within the characters.

Tragically, John succumbed to lung cancer on March 12, 1978. He was just 42 years old. Meryl was by his side right through to the end. He made The Deer Hunter in the last stages of his disease, dying before its release. Because of his illness, he was not able to get the required insurance so Robert De Niro stepped in and paid for him. His star burned brilliantly for the briefest of times and it leaves one with a tremendous sense of what might have been.

Richard Shepherd directed and Brett Ratner produced this incredible documentary short, I Knew It Was You: Rediscovering John Cazale which was featured at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival and aired on HBO last year. It is an in-depth look at Cazale's brief career with lots of amazing interviews and commentary. In a rare moment of disclosure, Meryl opens up at length about John and their time together. It's a unique chance to see some of our greatest actors in another light as they talk about their friend and fellow thespian.

I have the film below in three short parts. If you have the time, please watch. It is well worth the effort. Parts 1 and 3 are here, but Part 2 is linked because for some reason the embed code has been disabled.

Part 1


Part 2
http://youtu.be/12bLuAD269A

Part 3

Badass Bitches Part Deux

For those of us dying for Haywire to hit the bigs, our appetite for badass bitches will be whetted on August 26 when Colombiana, starring Zoe Saldana as an assassin hits theaters. It's going to be one hell of a ride. Check out this wild trailer.



Zoe plays a woman raised to be a contract killer after witnessing the brutal murder of her parents. A common theme, but it's with a chick so I am totally on board. Olivier Megaton directs this Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen co-written slice of late summer awesomeness. And you thought Zoe was badass in Avatar. She whips out the big guns this time. No bows, arrows and giant blue pigeons to get in the way.

It's Chimp-sploitation!

This has to be one of my strangest posts yet, but I so could not resist. Since Rise of the Planet of the Apes drops this Friday, I thought I'd take a moment and draw you all back to the 70's for some good old fashioned chimp-sploitation.

Lancelot Link: Secret Chimp was a sort of Get Smart action adventure comedy series centered around a chimpanzee (Lancelot) and his female spy companion, Mata Hairi. They worked for A.P.E. the Agency to Prevent Evil and did constant battle with C.H.U.M.P. the Criminal Headquarters for Underworld Master Plan. It ran from 1970 to 1972, a bit before I knew what television was. However, I do remember having the coloring books and the dolls. Courtesy of a relative or my godmother, I can't be sure.

The other members of A.P.E. included Colonel Darwin (the leader) and Bruce (an official courier). Parnelli Smith was their go-to car chimp. Lance and Mata even had a rock band called the Evolution Revolution. Blackie was the drummer and SweetWater Gibbons was on piano. They performed on the Ed Simian Show and their music was intended to be coded messages for A.P.E. agents. Groovy! I've often wondered if one these senseless little pop tartlets is perhaps the CIA equivalent.

Now for the forces of darkness. C.H.U.M.P. consisted of seven evil masterminds Baron von Butcher, Dragon Lady, Creto, Wang Fu, the Duchess, Ali Assa Seen and Dr. Strangemind.

Some interesting factoids:

*Bernie Kopell, best remembered as the doctor from Love Boat voiced Baron and Wang Fu.

*The show was created by Stan Burns and Mike Marmer who wrote for The Carol Burnett Show.

*They released an Evolution Revolution album on ABC/Dunhill Records with the singles Sha La Love You, Day Dreams, Magic Feeling and Blind Date.

*There was also a mysterious orangutan that never had a name, but Lance referred to him as "the weirdo."

So, are you ready for some Chimp-sploitation? I knew you were. Without further ado, here is Lancelot Link: Secret Chimp as well as a performance of The Evolution Revolution. Dig those funky threads! It's no wonder the apes take over the planet.

Don't Be Stingy With The Syrup

One of my favorite foods on this planet is pancakes. To me there is nothing like those golden delicious disks coated in butter and syrup. I can't eat them very often, so when I do, they had better be good. No mediocre flapjacks for this woman or there will be consequences. However, if there is one thing I absolutely hate even above bad pancakes it's not having enough syrup. You see, I need to have what I call Perfect Syrup to Pancake ratio when I eat. Go ahead and laugh, my family has guffawed for years over this lunatic quirk of mine.

Anyway, in order to achieve said ratio, the amount of syrup should be proportionate to the size and thickness of the pancake as well as what the pancake is made of i.e. buttermilk, buckwheat...Are you all on the floor gasping with laughter, yet? Go ahead, I'll wait.

Done? Okay.

To continue, the syrup should coat the pancake generously, nearly drowning it, but not turning it into mush. This requires a lot of syrup and as I have discovered, there are a lot of places out there that hoard syrup and dole it out like food rations in these teeny tiny containers.

For example, the restaurant chain Cracker Barrel brings you the syrup in these heated little vials. Vials, hah, that's actually being generous. These little things are so small the syrup is measured in cc's like a drug. Come on, is it maple syrup or penicillin? I'm telling you, you need an eyedropper when you eat the pancakes there.

You would think that a restaurant calling itself a "house" of pancakes would know better. Wrong! At this place the syrup comes in little ceramic teaspoon-sized bowls. I was served three giant pancakes and naturally asked for more syrup. The waitress brought me one more mini-bowl. Really? I had to ask three times before she finally brought out an entire little tray of the thimbles. Damn, just bring me the whole bottle next time and save yourself the trouble.

I went to an All You Can Eat Pancake breakfast at a church. Let me tell you, these people were so stingy that they had a breakfast condiment table set up like we were refugees. Here one would hold out their plate of pancakes and receive precisely 1 pat of butter and 1 mini ladle-full of syrup. Excuse me? I asked for more and stood there waiting for the lady manning the station like Oliver the orphan. She kept giving me the Evil Eye like I was asking her to give me an extra Communion Host. Then give me the ladle, Sister Syrup Nazi and let me do it.

It's syrup people, not liquid gold. I met a guy for a breakfast date and we both ordered pancakes. Fortunately, this place put out mini pitchers of the stuff. Of course, I told him he had to get the waitress to bring him his own as I would be needing all of it. He was not amused and I never saw him again. I think I must be the only woman not to get a second date because of syrup.

I have finally been driven to smuggling in my own. I look like an ass, but I don't care. I have the syrup to myself and don't have to ask for any.

What about you all out there? Any crazy food things? Do you think I'm a big weirdo for this?