Book Review: "This is the Story of a Happy Marriage" by Ann Patchett

Many people ask me how I select the books I read. Sometimes they've been recommended by someone else whose preferences are similar to mine, or I've read enthusiastic reviews about them. In other cases, I've been intrigued by the title or even the cover. (Never underestimate the power of a stroll through a bookstore when you can find one.) But quite often, I choose books written by authors whose books I've come to love. There is a growing list of authors I'm constantly looking up on Amazon to see when their next book will be released, authors whose books I read sight unseen, unless they're a major departure from their usual work.

Ann Patchett is definitely one of those authors. I first became familiar with her after reading the marvelous Bel Canto, then read her earlier books and have devoured all of the books she has written since then, fiction and nonfiction. So I was intrigued to read This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, a collection of articles and other writings she has published in a wide variety of media, from The Atlantic Monthly and The New York Times to Gourmet and Granta, even her introduction to the volume she edited for The Best American Short Stories collection.

Contrary to the title, this isn't just a book about marriage, although several of the articles touch on different aspects of her relationship with her husband Karl through the years. But many of the articles touch on other relationships—her brief, disastrous first marriage; her friendship with the late poet Lucy Grealy (which Patchett so lovingly recounted in her book Truth & Beauty; her grandmother; her dog; one of the nuns that taught her in Catholic school; even her relationship with her work. And still other articles talk about her need for and love of the occasional solitary vacation; her experiences trying out for the LAPD and getting to understand the RV culture; becoming the co-owner of an independent bookstore in Nashville; and her love of short stories.

"Many of the essays I'm proudest of were made from the things that were at hand—writing and love, work and loss. I may have roamed in my fiction, but this work tends to reflect a life lived close to home."

As always, Patchett's writing is thought-provoking, humorous, and, at times, tremendously moving. The articles aren't arranged in chronological order in the book, and they're written for different purposes, so it may take a minute to get your bearings for you to realize where in Patchett's life a particular essay is taking place. (In some she's married, in others she's dating her future husband; in some her dog is a puppy and in some her dog is elderly.) But Patchett always provides context for what she's talking about so it's interesting to get so many different perspectives.

There were so many instances in which I marveled at what Patchett had to say. Her use of language is so dazzling at times I had to re-read paragraphs or sentences to get the full extent of their power. In the title essay, for example, when she recounts the tumultuous relationship she and her husband had in the years before they were married: "I try to study our happiness so that I will be able to remember it in the future, just in case something happens and we find ourselves in need. These moments are the foundation upon which we build the house that will shelter us into our final years, so that when love calls out, 'How far would you go for me?' you can look it in the eye and say truthfully, 'Farther than you would ever have thought was possible.'"

And one other example, from "Dog Without End," a beautiful tribute to her dog: "Sometimes love does not have the most honorable beginnings, and the endings, the endings will break you in half. It's everything in between we live for."

I loved this book as much as I've loved Patchett's fiction. I feel tremendously fortunate to have gotten so much insight into her life, her mind, and her heart, and I think this will help enhance my enjoyment of her future work even more. If you like her writing, definitely pick this up. It's tremendously captivating, even if you choose to read it a little at a time rather than all at once. Don't miss out.

Measure your life in jellybeans...

In the musical Rent, the late Jonathan Larson talked about how life was made up of 525,600 minutes, and that you should measure your life in love. I certainly can't argue with those sentiments.

I was, however, intrigued when writing my newsletter at work, I came upon a post from Ze Frank, online performance artist, composer, humorist, and Buzzfeed's executive vice president of video, in which he examined the average human lifespan, measured out in jellybeans.

It's a humorous and surprisingly moving look at life. And you might want to have some jellybeans handy...

These are days...

It may not always feel this way, but it's good to keep this in perspective. I don't know where George Takei gets some of these, but his Facebook page is a treasure trove of fun and inspiration.

Not sticks or stones, but words...

Last night I had the awesome pleasure of watching the Washington Redskins clinch the NFC East division for the first time since 1999, beating their arch rivals, the Dallas Cowboys, in front of a roaring crowd. For a team that was 3-6 just seven weeks ago, to finish with a 10-6 regular season record and be headed to the playoffs just demonstrates the amazing talent and persistence the players have, especially rookie quarterback Robert Griffin III and rookie running back Alfred Morris.

The game was do-or-die—if the Redskins won, they clinched the division title; if they lost, they were out of the playoffs. The fact that it all came down to this, against the Cowboys of all teams, created an electrifying atmosphere I've never experienced before in my lifetime.

As with any sporting event, there were fans of the opposing team, talking their usual smack. When you take a game that means this much to both teams, throw in a decades-long rivalry, and add alcohol, tempers are sure to run a little higher than normal. But the taunting that occurred last night hit a little closer to home and was a little more hurtful than I would have expected.

Seated in our section last night was a Cowboys fan in his early to mid-20s. He had clearly been drinking. And when the Cowboys ultimately scored first, he was quick to taunt those of us around him, many of whom teased him for being a Cowboys fan in the first place. At that point, the sarcastically friendly ribbing turned ugly, as folks around us starting referring to Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo as "Tony Homo" and then proceeded to call the players and the fan in our section "fag," "homo," and use lots of other homophobic comments to describe everyone.

The action started again fairly quickly, so they were distracted, although they started up again once or twice. Having sat with a number of these people many times before over a few years, I've always believed them to be reasonably decent, so this was shocking. And I felt powerless to stop this.

Why is it that we still resort to homophobic taunts when poking fun at people? Is it necessary to adopt a mocking, higher voice, even a lisp, to get some sort of point across? To these people, is being a "faggot" or "homo" the worst thing they can imagine?

Sure, I know there was alcohol involved, but that doesn't excuse the behavior. I couldn't help but be brought back to far too many high school and middle school gym classes and other incidents in my childhood where those words were used. And although I have a much stronger self-belief system than I did then, I don't imagine I'm the only one who was affected by those words in a similar way.

My—perhaps naïve—hope for 2013 is that people don't find it necessary to resort to taunts of "fag" and "homo" when they want to insult people. I hope that professional athletes and comedians don't think the easy way to recover from a taunt, or the quickest way to a laugh, is to use those words.

Don't we owe it to ourselves to be a little more evolved? The world didn't end last week; why revert to outdated prejudice when behaving in the present?

So this is Christmas...

I think I first realized my family didn't celebrate Christmas when we moved into our house in Marlboro, NJ, when I was about 4-1/2 years old. I remember our house didn't have a fireplace, so I asked my parents how Santa would be able to get down the chimney and give us our gifts. They explained that because we were Jewish, Santa wouldn't visit us anyway, and I'm guessing they must have explained Hanukkah. I figure that the prospect of getting a present every night for eight nights must have been more-than-suitable balm for a nearly five-year-old.

The story of Hanukkah, of the miracle following the destruction of the Holy Temple, when although there was only enough oil to keep the menorah lit for one day, it stayed lit for eight days, was an amazing one. I always enjoyed the ritual of lighting the menorah, spinning the dreidel, and singing Hanukkah songs. But how can a child not wonder what Christmas was like when Santa Claus, Christmas songs, and holiday decorations are such a ubiquitous part of our culture?

In high school chamber choir, I loved when it was time to roll out the Christmas songs, particularly the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. (I'd like to still believe, with a little warming up, my old tenor voice could hit those high notes.) And as I grew older, I had the opportunity to experience many Christmas rituals, such as attending Christmas services at Washington's National Cathedral one year, decorating a tree, even going caroling. (All while maintaining the Jewish tradition of going to the movies and eating Chinese food on Christmas.)

I'm fascinated by the constant struggle in our society between celebrating Christmas and being politically correct. While I certainly don't think there's a "war on Christmas," I do think there's room to see both sides of the discussion.

When someone wishes me a Merry Christmas, I'm not offended. To me, it doesn't mean that they think their religion is somehow superior, that everyone should celebrate Christmas. I've always taken it that they want to share the joy of the holidays, and even if I don't celebrate Christmas, I take their wishes into the celebration of Hanukkah. But I respect those for whom hearing "Merry Christmas" when they celebrate Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or another holiday undermines their own religious identity.

Regardless of how you spent today—celebrating Christmas with family and friends, watching movies and eating Chinese, spending time in spiritual reflection, or acting as if it was just another day—I wish you happy holidays, today and every day.

A blogger looks at 43...

(All apologies to Jimmy Buffett for corrupting the title of his song.)

Today has been a remarkable day. The world has been utterly fixated on the fact that for the last time this century, the month, day, and year are all the same—12/12/12—. Thousands of couples chose today to get married for the luck they expect this special date to bring.

Of course, today is even more remarkable as far as I'm concerned, because it's my birthday. As my family and friends know all too well, I'm fairly obsessed with my birthday because it's my one true chance to be the center of attention, something I love probably more than I should.

I turned 43 today, and although my father joked that it didn't seem possible that he could be old enough to have a child my age, I don't have a problem hitting what I'll call my "late early 40s." All of the facets of my life might not be exactly where I want them, but I still marvel every day at just how lucky I am. I'm surrounded by people I care about who care about me, and I have the freedom to pursue the things I enjoy, to follow my dreams wherever they lead.

This morning I quoted a line from a Ben Folds song that simply says, "I am the luckiest." Thanks to the magic of social media, I received birthday greetings today from friends old and new, from people who celebrated with me at childhood birthday parties and with cupcakes in our elementary school classrooms. I heard from people I met while attending summer camp for 10 years, from people who were part of my bar mitzvah, including one of my two "bar mitzvah brothers" I shared my day with.

Beyond that, I've heard from people with whom I shared amazing memories, victories, and heartbreaks in high school and college; former colleagues who helped make the daily drone of work more enjoyable; friends with whom I share passions for many different things; and of course, my family and those I love more than anyone.

From this vantage point, 43 looks pretty good! Thanks to all of you who touch my life, in occasional or constant ways. I am a better, happier, and most of all, luckier person because of you, and I'm grateful you shared this incredibly special day—for me and for the world—with me.

Always remember...

It was a day on which everything changed. And for those outside of the intelligence community, there wasn't even a sign of trouble on September 11, 2001. It was an absolutely beautiful, late summer/early fall day.

I've written before about my memories of 9/11, where I was when I heard the news, how it affected me, how much I admire those whose bravery saved countless more lives, and those whose bravery led to their own losses.

Today means different things to different people. But what it means to me, on this day more than any other, is giving thanks to those who put their life on the line every day to protect others. Those who do not back down in the face of disaster, those willing to lend a hand, an ear, a heart to those in need.

And more than that, today serves as a powerful reminder of life's fragility. We never know when we'll run out of chances to tell our family, our friends, those we love, those we admire, those who make us laugh and think, how much they mean to us.

Always remember that. It's tragedy that often teaches us the hardest lessons, but it's also tragedy that strengthens our hearts and our memories and our minds.

Do they just not make 'em like they used to?

One of my favorite blogs, kenneth in the (212), posts a regular feature called "Song of the Day." The blog's author, Kenneth Walsh, is a huge music fan, and his tastes are somewhat eclectic (Blondie to Bananarama, Roseanne Cash to Roxy Music), but he generally likes music from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s more than today's music.

Yesterday's song of the day was River Deep, Mountain High by Ike and Tina Turner. There's no denying it's a pretty great song.

That got me thinking. Are older songs better than ones being released now?

I'm a huge music fan and I listen to a wide range of music. There are a lot of great up and coming bands and singers out there that I listen to quite a bit. (BTW, new bands I'm loving include Youngblood Hawke, The Neighbourhood, Django Django, and First Aid Kit.)

But will we be talking in 10, 20, 30 years about songs we're listening to now?

Or are we just more nostalgic about the songs that we remember from key moments of our life, songs we grew up with, or songs for which we know the lyrics by heart and have sung them over and over and over again? (I refuse it's just because I'm getting older.)

What do you think? Were the songs better "back then" or is it just the comfort and randomness of memory?

How much destruction should one city take?

As the 9/11 terrorist attacks unfolded, particularly on the World Trade Center, the world watched in horror. Although the city (and our country) has proven its ultimate resilience, the indelible images of that day are seared in our collective consciousness.

Given those inexplicable horrors, I don't understand why so many action movies still use New York as the nexus of a climatic battle or event, and why filmmakers think it is appropriate to destroy the city on screen time and time again. I realize what New York City represents to the world, and perhaps it is the city's very resilience that makes it an appealing target, but I'm finding these scenes more and more disturbing the further from 9/11 we move.

Take The Avengers, for example. (Some spoilers ahead, so skip this if you haven't seen the movie.) When the alien race commanded by Loki finally breaks through to Earth, they do so in New York. I know I wasn't alone in finding the scenes of alien creatures and crafts flying dangerously close to windows and alongside buildings eerily and painfully reminiscent of that horrible day in December. And as buildings were destroyed, and the police mobilized, I thought the reactions of the characters on film who witnessed this were really disturbing. While The Avengers saved the day and took back the city and our world, the attack did leave some significant destruction in its wake.

Couldn't this destruction have happened in another city, perhaps one not still shell-shocked by real and similar events?

Gotham City becomes the target of Bane and his merry band of evil villains in The Dark Knight Rises as well. Of course, the terror of this movie is all but amplified by the real-life horrible events that took place opening night in Aurora, Colorado, but I still found the violence, the attacks on police, and the destruction of bridges and other landmarks in the city tremendously disturbing.

Maybe I'm not the only one who feels uneasy at the city's falling prey to aliens and villains and Mother Nature again and again and again. Or maybe someone needs to remind me it's all just a movie...

A t-shirt worthy of death threats?

I know that sports fans take victory pretty seriously, and often don't handle defeat well, not to mention when people needle their teams. But sometimes people take things a little too far.

Case in point: this t-shirt, which was being sold by a company called Warpaint Clothing.

But first, a little history lesson for those of you unfamiliar with the NBA. Before the 2008-2009 NBA season, the Seattle SuperSonics moved to Oklahoma City and became the Oklahoma City Thunder. (This happened only after the new Oklahoma City-based owners failed to find public funding to construct a new arena in the Seattle area.) The SuperSonics played rather poorly in recent years, although in earlier days the franchise won the NBA championship in 1979. And now, as the Thunder, the team is headed to the Western Finals, where if they beat the San Antonio Spurs, they'll be in contention for the championship once again.

Oklahoma City isn't known as a sports city, so you can understand the excitement about the Thunder's amazing run this season. So given the smack sports fans like to spread, wouldn't you expect a snarky t-shirt like this to be sold? (Everything gets sold on the internet. Remember, this is the same country in which a company sold Trayvon Martin targets.)

But the wounds are still fresh for Seattle fans, apparently, which isn't too surprising, considering that Baltimore football fans are still bitter about the Colts leaving for Indianapolis, even though the Ravens have been pretty successful through the years.

While the bitterness may be understandable, the reaction from Seattle fans is not: Warpaint Clothing personnel reported they were receiving death threats because of the shirt.

Say it with me now: death threats. Over a t-shirt. Needless to say, Warpaint announced it would no longer sell the t-shirt because of the response they had received.

Did I miss something? Have we experienced some sort of Freaky Friday-like switch with Iran or Iraq all of a sudden, so now people feel that producing a t-shirt is worthy of death? What's next, stoning adulterers or cutting off the hands of thieves? Does the anonymity of the internet incubate this type of behavior, or has the rage level in our country ratcheted up to such a level that even t-shirts mocking the loss of a basketball franchise provokes this kind of anger?

Whatever the cause, this is becoming a dangerous problem. While you wouldn't expect a person sitting behind their computer threatening people who do things they don't like with death would actually do something, who knows what could trigger actual violence?

All I know is, I'd love to see the Miami Heat walk away without a championship for another year, and if Duke's men's basketball team never made it past the first or second round of the NCAA Tournament, that would be fine with me. (And don't get me started about Roger Federer and Tiger Woods.) But that being said, I don't plan to threaten Coach K or King James with death...voodoo dolls are more than satisfactory. (Note to the authorities monitoring this blog: that's a joke.)

Happy New Year! Enjoy it with new eyes...

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

--Semisonic

Happy New Year!

No matter how you chose to ring in 2012, I hope that you had an enjoyable and safe time, surrounded by those whose company you enjoy.

A few days ago, W had LASIK surgery. After wearing glasses for about 20 years, he decided it was time to see if he could avoid having to wear glasses everywhere he went.

All told, the surgery took no more than 7 minutes. Beyond the sheer wonder that a procedure to dramatically improve a person's vision (even when they've worn glasses their entire life) took so little time, what struck me most about the entire day was when each patient left after surgery, the staff told them, "Enjoy your new eyes!"

Think about that: for some of the patients, this would be the first time in 10, 20, even 30 or more years they wouldn't need to greet the day with glasses. They could watch television from their couch or see a movie and not need their glasses or contacts to help them decipher details. For all intents and purposes, they truly were getting new eyes.

Then I realized how appropriate that concept was for all of us as we celebrate the start of 2012. Many people greet the new year by making resolutions, taking down holiday decorations, cleaning and throwing away clutter.

But what if the most amazing thing you can do for yourself in the months to come is to look at everything with new eyes?

Forget resolutions. Forget worries. From today on, I'm going to look at everything with new eyes. And while they will still be behind glasses, what they will see, what they will perceive, will hopefully be a bit different.

Enjoy all that 2012 has to offer you. And I challenge you: enjoy it with new eyes.

On beyond 2011...

In a little more than eight hours, we here on the East Coast will bid adieu to 2011. It has been an interesting year, and I look forward to what 2012 will bring.

Equality took a number of steps ahead and a number of steps back this year. Don't Ask Don't Tell became one for the history books, and despite what some conservatives may tell you, the military has felt no ill effects from allowing openly gay soldiers to serve. President Obama also vowed to no longer defend the outdated Defense of Marriage Act, and Congressional Democrats introduced bills that would replace this antiquated law, but to date, only one Republican has expressed support.

New York lawmakers approved same-sex marriage in the state, while lawmakers in North Carolina and Minnesota took steps toward implementing Constitutional bans against same-sex marriage. And nearly every Republican candidate running for President in 2012 has promised to amend the U.S. Constitution to include this same inequality. Bullying of gay students continues to increase at an alarming pace, as does the number of gay teenagers committing suicide and the number of acts of violence perpetrated against gay people or those "suspected" to be gay.

But looking beyond politics, I think it has been a fairly good year. I was able to get out from under a horribly demoralizing job to find a position in an organization that values my skills and challenges me (sometimes more than I want, but that's life), and I look forward what 2012 will bring professionally.

I've enjoyed the opportunity to spend some wonderful time with friends and family this year, read some terrific books, and see some memorable movies. I visited the summer camp I attended for 10 years between the ages of 10 and 19 for the first time in 19 years, and it was an eye-opening experience to be reunited with people who played a big role in my childhood. And on a sad note, we said goodbye to my great-aunt Eileen, who was a truly terrific person.

Wishing all of you a happy and healthy New Year, and I hope that 2012 brings each of you everything you're dreaming of!

In Memory of a Visionary...

The world lost a creative genius, a dreamer, an innovator who knew no bounds, and a visionary last night with the passing of Apple founder Steve Jobs. Jobs, who had been suffering from cancer since 2004, stepped down from his role at Apple in August.

In a statement, the company said, "We are deeply saddened to announce that Steve Jobs passed away today. Steve’s brilliance, passion and energy were the source of countless innovations that enrich and improve all of our lives. The world is immeasurably better because of Steve. His greatest love was for his wife, Laurene, and his family. Our hearts go out to them and to all who were touched by his extraordinary gifts."

Moments after the news was announced, I was amazed by the number of Facebook posts from friends all over the world remarking on Jobs' death. Then I realized the irony—so many of us were communicating using technology envisioned by Jobs himself.

This irony wasn't lost on President Obama, who said after learning of Jobs' passing, "The world has lost a visionary. And there may be no greater tribute to Steve's success than the fact that much of the world learned of his passing on a device he invented."

Jobs' life is a true testament to seizing your dreams and never letting anything stand in the way of achieving them. His 2005 commencement address at Stanford University, in which he discussed "How to Live before You Die," should be required viewing for all.

Rest in peace, Steve. And thank you for leaving an indelible imprint of creativity, courage, and connectivity on our world.

A Sad Goodbye...

"Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes, I'm afraid it's time for goodbye again."

—Billy Joel

One of the worst things about growing older is losing those you love and having to say goodbye to them, often unexpectedly. (A friend of mine from high school recently said, "The only time being a grown-up pays off is when I want an extra cookie, watch a dirty movie without fear of getting caught, or get a drink.")

Today we said goodbye to my great-aunt Eileen, who passed away Tuesday night at after suffering a massive stroke following heart surgery last week. She was 85 years old.

Aunt Eileen was an absolutely terrific person, who never stopped living life to its fullest every day. As many of her generation, she was never shy about sharing her opinions and telling you exactly how she felt, but she was also never shy about sharing her love and her heart with those she cared about. For as long as I can remember, she was a tremendously warm and welcoming person, and always made W feel like he truly was a part of our family when she saw him.

She taught school for more than 30 years on Long Island, and loved to talk about books and other intellectual pursuits with me. I remember as a child, she would always give me workbooks and other study materials she thought would be helpful, and was always happy to talk things through. She believed you should never stop learning, and took classes and attended workshops throughout her life.

Her greatest love, of course, was her family. My uncle Jack died approximately 20 years ago, but she never let widowhood stop her. She had four terrific children—Allyn, Larry, Roberta, and Cindy—whom she loved as fiercely as she did all of her grandchildren—Bobby, Philip, Ian, Barbara, Debbie, Ross, and Cole. And she was over the moon with her nearly two-year-old great-grandson, Jackson.

But her love and her generosity of spirit didn't just stop with her immediate family. I remember she sent me a card when I had my gall bladder removed in the late 1990s, and also sent a card and checked on me when I started chemotherapy for cancer in late 2002. She was always happy when any family came together, whether for a special occasion or just an everyday encounter.

I was lucky to see my aunt in July when we celebrated my grandmother's 89th birthday. She was completely happy, healthy, funny, and opinionated as always. It's the perfect way to remember her.

Rest in peace, Aunt Eileen. Thank you for your love, your spirit, your intelligence, and for being you. I will miss you with all of my heart.

I'm So Pretty That I Love Stereotypes...

Well, I'd imagine someone in JCPenney's design department may lose their job...

A great deal of brouhaha in the media has ensued over JCPenney's recent decision to market a girls' t-shirt that says, "I'm too pretty to do homework so my brother has to do it for me." (Way to tell girls they're not worthy of achieving anything of consequence.) And the description of the shirt in the retailer's catalogue sends a terrific message:

"Who has time for homework when there’s a new Justin Bieber album out? She’ll love this tee that’s just as cute and sassy as she is."

Who comes up with these ideas? A few months ago, online retailer David&Goliath started marketing a t-shirt that says, "I'm too pretty to do math". And back in 2005, groups of teenage girls—and then the media—took on retailer Abercrombie & Fitch for marketing a line of t-shirts they felt degraded the girls who wore them, including shirts that read, "Who needs brains when you have these?" and "You better make more than I can spend."

After controversy erupted about the JCPenney t-shirt, the retailer removed the shirt from sale and released a statement that said, "JCPenney is committed to being America's destination for great style and great value for the whole family. We agree that the 'Too pretty' t-shirt does not deliver an appropriate message, and we have immediately discontinued its sale. Our merchandise is intended to appeal to a broad customer base, not to offend them. We would like to apologize to our customers and are taking action to ensure that we continue to uphold the integrity of our merchandise that they have come to expect."

I just don't understand the thinking behind these shirts. Sure, cute and sassy might be appealing, but are these the attitudes we want to promote in preteen and teenage girls? While some say it's the choice of the parents or the girls themselves to purchase and wear the shirts, why promote messages that underachievement is cool or sexy, or it's good just to get by on your looks and sex appeal, that being smart is somehow less attractive?

I know that stereotypes exist because many people uphold them, but at the same time, not every gay person is like Sean Hayes' character on Will and Grace or Chris Colfer's character on Glee; not every Asian person takes pictures; and not every athlete is stupid. Why not embrace what makes each person different and special?

Gee, all that from a t-shirt. I guess I fall into the "Bloggers are cranky" stereotype, huh?

Not a Choice...

With the 2012 elections not quite around the corner (but closer than I'd like them to be), a great deal of political conversation has again turned to the issue of equal rights. Particularly since the Obama administration called for the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell and determined it wouldn't uphold the Defense of Marriage Act, and same-sex marriage was approved in New York State, nearly every Republican candidate for president as well as leading conservatives have attacked the very idea of equality and sexuality.

Beyond the usual posturing about how same-sex marriage disturbs the sanctity of traditional marriage (yet divorce doesn't) and the ridiculous claims that allowing same-sex marriage will lead to polygamy, pedophilia, bestiality and even people wanting to marry inanimate objects, comes the oft-held opinion that sexuality is a choice.

In a fantastic opinion piece in the San Francisco Chronicle, Jon Carroll takes on the idea of sexuality as a choice. He talks about Michele Bachmann's husband, Marcus, a therapist whose practice involves turning gay people straight with the help of prayer, Bible reading and classes. Jesus will forgive your homosexuality, Bachmann promises, as long as you repent and become straight.

As Carroll says, "Experts in the field no longer believe that [sexuality is a choice]; most regular citizens, aware that they came by their own sexual orientation naturally, don't believe it either. This does not deter Marcus Bachmann."

The only choice a person has about their sexuality is whether or not to suppress their true nature. Sadly, so many people live secret lives in order to do the "right" things—marry a person of the opposite sex and raise a family. And yet many of those people are the ones who get caught in sting operations in parks and public restrooms, or are the anti-gay politicians who get caught making advances toward an intern or an escort.

The fact is, given the way gay people are treated in most of the world, it is hard to believe many of us would choose this way of life if we actually had the chance to. Why choose the possibility of being bullied, often violently? Why choose a life in which the simple act of showing affection toward the person you love could lead to violence, or a life where, in most states, you cannot legally marry the person you love, adopt a child together or make healthcare decisions for them?

Carroll's editorial points out how ludicrous the idea of sexuality being a choice is through humor. Perhaps the ridiculousness of the points he makes will force those who believe it is a choice to reconsider.

Perhaps after 2012.

On Sequels, Remakes and Other Things That Make Me Die Inside...

Children of the 80s (not to mention romantics and die-hard John Cusack fans) know the above image is from Say Anything. The movie, directed by Cameron Crowe, starred Cusack and Ione Skye as recent high school graduates who fall in love despite being two completely different people, and struggle to stay together in the face of obstacles trying to tear them apart.

Apparently during the Television Critics Association press tour this past weekend, Crowe mentioned that he could consider a sequel to Say Anything; in fact, Crowe said that the movie is the only one he has written that he could see giving the sequel treatment.

Hearing that, of course, made me want to scream "NO!" and fly immediately to wherever Crowe is to stop him from the very thought of developing a sequel to this movie. Do I want to know what happened to Lloyd and Diane? Absolutely, but I'd rather use my imagination than see it for myself.

The movie business is all too keen on sequels. While some films, particularly action franchises, may lend themselves to having their stories extended beyond the writers' original intent, there are far too many movies for which sequels have been unnecessarily made.

Was the world really crying out to know what happened with Jack Nicholson's character in Chinatown so much that The Two Jakes was necessary? Once we established what you did last summer, did we really still need to know? Was Ace Ventura really that good of a pet detective in the first place?

And if the sequels aren't bad enough, the remakes are truly killing me. I understand the appeal of remaking an older movie and adapting it to more current times. And I also can somewhat understand the desire to take a foreign movie and adapt it for American audiences, like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo or Let Me In (the American adaptation of Let the Right One In).

What I don't understand, however, is the need to remake movies that came out within the last 25 years or so, or even less. I certainly didn't think Spider-Man needed to be remade so soon (no matter how much I like Andrew Garfield), nor did it seem the world was clamoring for more Superman movies or even a remake of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (I'm sure you know where I stand on that one) or Red Dawn.

And thankfully, Robert Zemeckis got some sense back before deciding to remake The Wizard of Oz.

But if I were to pick a remake that makes me want to cry every time I see the trailer for it, it would be Footloose. Did the movie that made a star of Kevin Bacon really need to be relaunched? No. And more importantly, are we that old now that Dennis Quaid and Andie MacDowell have moved from sexy, leading roles to disapproving parental roles?

I find it hard to believe that with all of the people who come to Hollywood every day, that there is no one out there creative enough to come up with unique ideas for movies instead of remakes, sequels and adapting television shows, Broadway shows, comic books and fairy tales.

In case you haven't seen it yet, watch the trailer for the "new" Footloose below and weep. And then break out your original soundtrack, with Kenny Loggins, Deniece Williams, even Shalamar, and relive days gone by...

The Middle of the End?

In a crushing blow to bibliophiles everywhere (not to mention its 10,700 employees), Borders announced earlier this week that it would be closing its remaining 399 stores and going out of business by the end of September. (Earlier this year, Borders declared bankruptcy, closed approximately one-third of its stores and had hoped it would find a buyer to get it out of bankruptcy.)

Borders once operated as many as 1200 stores (some under the Waldenbooks name) and helped pioneer the mega-bookstore concept that was partly responsible for the demise of independent bookstores and smaller chains across the country. But now, with all Borders stores closing, what's left is Barnes & Noble, along with smaller chains like Books-a-Million and a smattering of small bookstores across the country.

For someone like me who would spend every day reading if I could, this is devastating news. Yes, I now have a Kindle, so I don't buy as many books as I used to, but bookstores are like a touchstone for me. As convenient as the Kindle is in terms of reading on the go and especially when traveling (I am a person who used to pack almost as many books as the number of days away), there's nothing like the feel of a book in your hand.

There's nothing quite like the smell that emanates when you crack open a new book.

And bookstores are wonderful simply to wander through aimlessly, as you never know what unknown author or new title you'll stumble upon.

I feel for those who are going to lose their jobs as the Borders stores close. And I feel for those of us for whom a bookstore is an oasis, a launching pad to propel us on our journey into a new book or alongside a new author.

I only hope that Barnes & Noble can hang on, because a world without bookstores isn't one I want to contemplate.

The Kiss of Death?

I saw a commercial the other day for a new television series coming this fall called The Playboy Club, starring Eddie Cibrian. It got me to thinking, that while there's little doubt that Eddie Cibrian is pretty fantastic to look at, either he doesn't seem to last very long on television shows, or the shows themselves don't last long.

In 2010 he joined the cast of CSI: Miami and then, after regular cast member Adam Rodriguez returned to the show, Cibrian's character was killed. He then joined the cast of new series Chase, which was already foundering in the ratings, and it was not renewed for the 2011 season.

In 2005, Cibrian starred in Invasion, a series that followed a Florida town dealing with strange occurrences following a hurricane. The series was not renewed for a second season. Following that, he joined the cast of Vanished, which did not last through the 2006 season.

Cibrian's early career saw some longevity, with him spending a number of years on Third Watch (although he left that show for the short-lived Tilt) and two years on Sunset Beach, as well as more than a year on Baywatch Nights.

I'm not blaming Cibrian for the failure of these shows or his leaving others; I just think he falls into a group of actors who can't seem to find a show that succeeds. Hawaii Five-O's Alex O'Loughlin starred in two other shows before landing his current series. As with anything in Hollywood, it's part luck, and part scheduling.

Time will tell if Cibrian's new series gives him the stability he needs; if not, you know he'll show up on television again shortly thereafter. And that's not a bad thing...

Answers to Questions We May Never Find...

In a verdict that rippled with the same level of shock as the decision in the initial OJ Simpson case, Casey Anthony was acquitted yesterday of murdering her two-year-old daughter Caylee three years ago. (Given the traffic the verdict received on Facebook yesterday, I can only imagine what the hours and days following the OJ verdict would have been like if social media were around then.)

The jury returned their decision after less than 11 hours of deliberation over two days. While there are many people—including some legal experts—who feel the jury made the right decision given the evidence the prosecution presented, most feel that the tragic end of Caylee's all-too-short life deserves some justice.

Casey Anthony lied to police, even partied and got a tattoo during the month Caylee was missing. She invented an imaginary nanny, whom she claimed Caylee was with, created a fictitious wealthy boyfriend, and even claimed that she and Caylee had been visiting the imaginary nanny after she was injured in an out-of-town car crash. And yet because the burden of proof remained with the prosecution, the defense's only task was to raise one iota of doubt with one juror to successfully protect their client.

While Anthony was convicted of lying, it is expected that she will be released from jail shortly given the time she has served. And while undoubtedly she will have the opportunity to tearfully tell her side of the story to every media outlet, perhaps "write" a book about her ordeal and even authorize the TV movie about the case, there are many questions for which we may never get answers.

What really did happen with Caylee?

Was her death an accidental drowning as the defense suggested, or did the chloroform and duct tape play a role?

What role did Casey's father really play in all of this?

Is Casey simply a sociopath who was able to party while her child was missing, or were her actions those of a highly stressed young woman trying to cope with unbelievable angst and sadness?

In the end, while Casey gets the chance to live her life freely, Caylee is dead. It doesn't matter who killed her or how she died, but clearly her life was not the beautiful one which all children should be entitled to.

And that is the saddest part of all. One can only hope that Casey has the sense to refrain from having another child, who might eventually inconvenience her life much as Caylee did.

Justice was served. Unfortunately, our legal system worked on the wrong person's behalf.