Delicious Delis and Accreting Writers

 

deli or delicatessen - noun - a retail establishment that sells prepared foods, cured meats, fine cheeses, and specialty sandwiches. (Wikipedia)

accreting - adjective - growing slowly over time by accumulating layers. (English Language and Usage)

Two of my favorite scenes from classic cinema take place in actual New York City delis. The first is the opening sequence from Woody Allen's iconic, black-and-white comic elegy for a hapless theatrical agent, Broadway Danny Rose, and the second is from director Rob Reiner's homage to accreting love, When Harry Met Sally. The delicatessen featured in the former is the Carnegie, now defunct unfortunately. The deli in the latter is Katz's, fortunately still a NYC staple at 205 E. Houston Street on the Lower East Side. When I resided in Manhattan 45 years ago, I would trek to Carnegie at 854 7th Avenue between 54th and 55th for a sumptuous, four-inch-thick corned beef sandwich on rye that was way more affordable than the twenty-five dollar version I might have purchased today. Although the original restaurant is no longer, devotees of the Jewish deli can still order from the menu at its Madison Square Garden location or visit the website. But neither experience would be the same. There is nothing that compares to sitting in a slightly dodgy, dusty deli, chatting with a companion or negotiating fingerprint smears on a dirty window in order to appreciate the appearances of passersby on 7th Avenue.    

For whatever reason (probably because the Carnegie used to be cheap), the aforementioned was a hangout for every starving artist looking to bite into half of a hefty sandwich at lunch and take the leftover half home for dinner. If I were still living in New York, I'd probably meet my fellow writer friend, who is hoping to snag an agent (aren't we all?), at Katz's. However, since moving to Los Angeles, I met her today at the equivalent of both the Carnegie and Katz's: the deli-restaurant Canter's, which opened in 1953 at 419 North Fairfax Avenue. Over the years, it has been a location for numerous films and TV series, especially as Television City is right down the street. The decor has not been altered much over the years, and neither has the vast selection of deli classics on the menu. Canter's also has a tempting bakery that specializes in Jewish treats, such as mouth-watering coconut macaroons. Again, it isn't inexpensive, but I did manage to get someone in the kitchen to make me a Jersey Sloppy Joe (not on the menu) for $25. I know. Yikes! But it came with a foil container so that I could tote the leftovers back to my apartment. 

What mattered more to us writers was the conversation. The deli provided the right ambience for us to share our experiences as also-rans–always the bridesmaids, never brides–when it came to finding just the right people to promote our literary talents. My friend, who just finished a manuscript for a children's picture book, has just started to query agents. I, the author of a memoir and psychological drama, have been querying literary agents for six years. I've probably contacted about five hundred by now. Unsuccessfully. The only tidbit of trivia that keeps me on my toes trying is that Ray Bradbury, whose Fahrenheit 451 is still taught in high school English classes, was rejected over eight hundred times before his work was accepted for publication. 

Will I hang in there for as long as he did? Probably not. I could publish tomorrow on Kindle for nothing and start making seventy percent of $3.99 per read right away, something thousands of writers do. But that masters in creative writing that I have keeps reminding me I just might be better than Amazon. Immodest? Maybe. But for now, I'll continue to commiserate with my writer friend over one Sloppy Joe at a time at Canter's and keep the faith that I'll win the lottery and find representation. My friend and I might just be the two in two thousand who, as accreting writers, grow slowly by accumulating layers of tenacity and patience. 

If you just happen to be like us, keep the faith and don't give up easily. 

#delicatessens, #Canter's, #writers, #personal essay, #blog, #blogger, #advice for writers

Mother's Day: A Redundancy?

 

redundancy - noun - a state of being unnecessary, excessive, or repetitive.

If you live in the real world, a.k.a. material, you are most likely aware of redundancies as they are ubiquitous. Just look around you or just contemplate the universe as you know it. How many examples of unnecessary, excessive, or repetitive nouns (people, places, things, ideas) can you count? Probably more than you would have thought. 

Yet are there days on the American calendar that can be considered redundant? My critics will argue that the Hallmark holidays (Mother's Day, Valentine's Day, Father's Day, Grandparents' Day in particular) are unnecessary, excessive, or repetitive because, let's face it, everyone who can personally relate to any of these should celebrate or be celebrated daily. And I can't disagree. As a mother, every day SHOULD be just for me :). 

However, we don't live in a perfect world because of pretty much one thing. Just in case you didn't already notice, there is a HUGE billboard erected on the side of the daily highway, staring the passerby in the face and screaming, "Beware of HUMAN NATURE!" Face it. Because we are fallible humans, more than a tad self-centered, we need reminders to be good to each other, and we only have ten fingers on which to tie string. Any calendar and Hallmark (the greeting card stores) are in place to give us the added impetus to remember those who have embraced us lovingly in the past, present, and/or future. We need to be glad that we can set aside one day out of 365 to honor special people: moms, lovers, dads, grandparents so that the avalanche of attention bestowed for 24 hours will last another 364 days until we can do it all over again. And if we are on the flip side, the persons being extolled, we can relish all of the attention because we know we might have to wait another 364 days to partake of it again. 

For those of you who are unfortunate enough not to be on the giving or receiving end (and there are many), I recommend that you stop thinking about how disappointed or depressed you are since you haven't been chosen for either of the teams and double up on the giving end. Find someone else's mother or father or grandparent who might actually deserve accolades and give them generously. As for Valentine's Day, adopt a less fortunate soul and buy or make him or her a card. Or just do something memorable for that person. Historically, as I am usually paramour-free (bad break-up timing on my part) around February 14th, I concentrate on remembering dear friends or acquaintances. One year way back in 1983, I gave the lonely doorman of my New York apartment building an economy-sized Whitman's Sampler just because I had a feeling that everyone else would ignore him (as was his daily plight as a sentry at the entrance). He was so delighted that he hugged me until I was nearly blue in the face. You would have thought I had given him a check for a million dollars. No doubt, I made his day, and it has been permanently registered in my mind as a favorite recollection of February 14th.

The moral of this personal essay is the following: Any and all opportunities to love should never be filed under the nomenclature of "Life Redundancies."

For all of you moms (real and adopted), I hope you celebrated Mother's Day yesterday in grand scale with smiles on your faces :). 

#Mother's-Day, #Hallmark-holidays, #holidays, #blog, #blogger, #personal-essay 

The Ephemeral Devil Wears Prada 2: A Review

 

ephemeral - adjective - something that lasts for a very short time

Box-office bonanzas like Barbie or The Devil Wears Prada 2 are ephemeral, especially considering not many people are devotees of cinema-going lately. Movies, in general, are ephemeral since so many are produced and released on the big screen as well as on the small screen. Despite not being as good as the first, The Devil Wears Prada 2 in its opening weekend garnered 234 million dollars, the highest for a Meryl Streep film, which says a lot regarding the actor's perennial appeal. That being mentioned, the film did not make it into my top ten. Perhaps waiting twenty years to make a sequel has worked against the second iteration. 

To be fair, DWP2 possesses a few redeemable qualities for a sequel. My thirty-five-year-old daughter and I both agreed that we enjoyed the on-location sequences, particularly those shot in New York, Milan, and Lake Como, which is always a treat for those of us who dream in technicolor. We also appreciated the costumes, designed by our favorite Pat Fields, known for outfitting Sarah Jessica Parker and friends on Sex and the City. Authentic celebs, particularly names in sports, making cameo appearances throughout the movie kept our interest albeit at some junctures if we weren't paying attention, we missed out. For example, I noticed Masters' winner Rory McIlroy and his wife, whereas my daughter didn't. I liked the juxtaposition of generations Boomer versus Millennial to stress the then-versus-now acceptable norms. For instance, Boomer Amanda has felt the need to juggle career, marriage, and motherhood. At the close of the film, she uncharacteristically (for a female narcissist) expresses regret at having failed at the latter. In the next sentence, she appeases her own ephemeral guilt by saying, "Oh, but I do love working. Don't you?" as if a successful career trumps and forgives all. On the other hand, Millennial Andy knows better, focusing her energies solely on journalism. Like others of her generation, she does not feel pressured to bet on the trifecta, knowing her limitations as a person. Even though she is in her forties, she is content with living her life sans a husband and children.

Where the movie goes wrong is that it doesn't have a clear purpose. It starts out extolling the materialistic virtues of superficial glitz, yet contradicts itself towards the end with Priestly's admission that fashion should be perpetuated for the sake of art and/or beauty. The intention is to carry the character over the threshold of static into dynamic, but the shift is so quick that it makes no sense. One can only suspend disbelief for so long. What else doesn't make sense is including plot elements and characters that beg for back story. The opening scandal involving Runway and Priestly is glossed over, and Lucy Liu's character is thin, literally and figuratively as there is next to no exposition on her. I missed Nate (Adrian Grenier) whose absence is not explained even though he figures prominently at the close of the original film. In addition, the pacing of the film is poor, and the proliferation of technology made me anxious, as anxious as the Gen Z students I used to teach who were addicted to their phones. Twenty years ago, we functioned well with flip phones and desktops, which the first film unintentionally points out. Today, we are consumed with everything imaginable, even AI, more fluff. I hope the filmmakers are trying to communicate this in a not-so-subtle way. (Maybe it's just me as I recently spent time on a virtually deserted island off of Fiji sans any technology at all, not even plumbing or electricity. It was heavenly.) DWP2 is an unpleasant reminder that Silicone Valley has crossed the border into unhealthy territory, a good thing if that is indeed its purpose. But again, the movie lacks a defined purpose.

But don't take my word for it. See The Devil Wears Prada 2 if only for the performances. Streep is, well, Streep, divinely perfect, what every actor ascribes to be. Hathaway returns to perky positiveness and is as wholesome (if there is such a word anymore) as a likable protagonist can be. (They should have given her a much hotter love interest, though.) I also think Blunt is consistent as the antihero Emily. And Tucci is even more lovable as an emotionally vulnerable Nigel, unafraid to show his love for Andy.

If film as art holds a mirror up to who we are in the present, DWP2 is the zeitgeist of contemporary urban life. Maybe what we need to do is examine where we are technologically and think about returning to 2006 so that we don't destroy humanity altogether. 

#Devil-Wears-Prada-2, #movie-review, #review, #critique, #blog, #blogger