In December 2008 I made plans to interview someone for StoryCorps’ National Day of Listening, and at the start of the new year I was able to conduct a video interview with Amanda. She was gracious enough to let me record her answers as she spoke about her professional life.
As a way to test my fledgling video editing skills, I asked her to share her holiday travel experiences. More video about her professional life (I learned a lot!) will follow … later. After I spend more time with the cranky video editing software that came with the borrowed camera.
My embedded video skills have failed me now, it seems. I’ll try again later. Until then: “A Brush With Someone Else’s Fame.”
UPDATE: Skills are back!
What’s your favorite word? Would you call it beautiful?
Dr. Robert Beard over at alphaDictionary has compiled an alphabetical list of the 100 most beautiful words in English. For your perusal, the top 10:
- adrot Dexterous, agile.
- adumbrate To very gently suggest.
- aestivate To summer, to spend the summer.
- ailurophile A cat-lover.
- beatific Befitting an angel or saint.
- beleaguer To exhaust with attacks.
- blandiloquent Beautiful and flattering.
- caliginous Dark and misty.
- champagne An effervescent wine.
- chatoyant Like a cat’s eye.
Dr. Beard only made it through part of the S words before reaching 100. Words beyond “surreptitious” are bonus.
Of course, my favorite word begins with H. This word became my favorite a while ago and I’ve not replaced it with another yet. Admittedly, I seldom have use for it.
(Thanks to Jacket Copy for pointing this out.)
It’s roundup time! It’s still January, right?
And here we have the best (and worst) titles of my 2008. More information can be found, of course, on the BookList 2008.
5 BookMarks
“The Time Traveler’s Wife” by Audrey Niffenegger. Two lovers are separated by memory and time. And yet not. I almost needed a flow chart to make it through the time traveling, but it was worth it. All about character, the meaning of love, fate, destiny and our influence on one another. It’s not as cheesy as I’m making it sound here. Promise.
“The Secret History” by Donna Tartt. (Why doesn’t Tartt have more novels? Donna Tartt, are you at this moment writing another? Please say yes.) This story of young elitist insular scholar-intellectuals is smart, smart, smart. Relatable yet alien. Appearance, reality, relationship. At college!
“Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” by Jonathan Safran Foer. This is a story about grief. Not great for mental health but a delicious piece of fiction. So here we have childhood, 9/11, German immigrants, Manhattan, parenthood, identity, love and death.
Kindling Award Winner
“You’ve Been Warned” by James Patterson and writing sidekick Howard Roughan. James Patterson and his co-author earned the somewhat glorious indignity of winning this year’s Kindling Award for worst book of my 2008. The novel bested 49 other rated titles on my BookList 2008 to earn the lowest score of 1 BookMark. Can’t say I remember anything about this book, but it must’ve been really bad to earn only 1 BookMark. Right?
There’s something strangely hypnotic and soothing about this ad. Let’s all take a deep breath…
(Brought to my attention by EW.com.)
StoryCorps has done it again with the emotionally touching stories! Another one today! I can’t make it to the office on Fridays without feeling a little bit of empathy for a stranger on the radio!
Nov. 28, 2008, was StoryCorps’ National Day of Listening, an oral history project in which people like you and me would interview someone and record his or her story. That story could then be preserved and shared with others.
(I meant to post about this last week, seeing as a StoryCorps representative was kind enough to let me know about it in the comments section of a recent post. Here’s to hoping that comment was written by an actual person.) UPDATED: This isn’t snark, folks. The idea of a real person from StoryCorps reading my blog is kinda cool.
But it’s not too late if you’re interested in participating. StoryCorps has extended the idea through the holiday season. The National Day of Listening site has plenty of advice, including tips on recording an interview and sample interview questions to help participants get started. The site also offers a chance to share your interview online.
I’m at this moment choosing an interview subject. I hope this person would like to participate.
So I made the salmon. Let’s all feel very proud for a moment, considering my approach to cooking.
I ended up having to cook the fish twice as long as the recipe on the back of the package called for, but since I’ve eaten enough salmon in restaurants to recognize the appropriate color and texture for cooked salmon, things turned out just fine.
By time I cut the scales off both fillets the fish was cold. And then I accidentally spilled half my cooked vegetables in the sink. But the flavors were wonderful, simple.
The scales were beautiful, silver and gray, and added a visceral tone to the whole process. I used a knife to separate the pink flesh away from the skin and the scales made little click-clack noises as they fell to the plate below.
I bought a package of frozen salmon fillets thinking I could bake one in the oven and then steam a few veggies and make a meal. Which felt within the realm of possibility until I got the package home and realized that the salmon fillets had scales on one side! Like an actual fish!
And that’s when my squeamish self postponed that meal for a week. But my vegetables need to be cooked and eaten so I’m again contemplating the salmon. I know better than to eat the scales but having them on the plate is a very … natural … concept.
(Of course, all of you are now thinking, “Just cut them off!”)
I’ve never eaten fish that wasn’t already a small square of flaky flesh, breading optional. I’ve never ordered fish in a restaurant and received … a fish. Or even something that once resembled a fish. Actual fish scales will touch my plate!
(Let me insert here my limited tolerance for fried catfish. I eat it only at large, extended-family gatherings. Twice a year suits me fine.)
Perhaps part of this concern is being reminded of where my food comes from with deliberate visual cues (scales). Perhaps part if this is realizing that my conception of ways to serve and consume fish is not as broad as it could be.
Well, tonight I will cook the fish. Yes. Salmon for dinner.
I just filled my gas tank for $26.59 and feel as if I have gotten away with something, pulled the wool over someone’s eyes as I peeled away from the pump with the bargain of the century. Certainly the bargain of the year.
I can say wholeheartedly that falling prices have made me grateful that a routine purchase makes a smaller dent in my pocketbook. How can we escape the necessary purchase?
My experiment with the city bus is over. I’ll admit right now that I only rode the bus one day, to and from work. But I found it serviceable, less scary than I anticipated and a reasonable alternative to driving my own car. I can recommend it. My experiment is over because I have a new job, one that demands more flexibility than the bus timetable offers.
I have been without Internet access at home for over a week. I can say it makes me feel adrift at home. Knowing the larger world is trapped at a computer terminal at my office or the public library or a friend’s house is disconcerting. I’m writing this from my sister’s laptop now, and instead of using my own timetable I’m abiding by hers — she needs her computer for a big project. Sharing is a good thing.
It’s interesting to note that the moment I have limited access to the Internet and little time to write is the moment I want nothing more than to write to all of you pages upon pages of conversation. Maybe next time.
I listen to the radio every weekday morning without fail.
I slap the snooze button on the alarm then flip the little switch that turns on the radio, out of which pours the familiar timbres of Morning Edition hosts Renee Montagne and Steve Inskeep. The morning news makes ironing my clothes a little more interesting, and I feel caught up on what’s happening in the world. Most days I listen on my commute to work.
Friday is StoryCorps day. StoryCorps is a nonprofit oral history project that lets people record their personal stories at booths across the nation. Two people who are important to each other speak into a microphone about what matters most to them. Those recordings are then archived at the Library of Congress. (And, obviously, broadcast on NPR.)
Here is today’s StoryCorps segment: A Love That Defied A Cancer Diagnosis.
Every StoryCorps segment is captivating. Hearing people speak about their lives in their own words with a friend or relative is oddly intimate. Since each segment is so short, listeners arrive at that delicate place in a story when the heart of the matter comes into view. Entire lives are transmitted in just three minutes.
But almost every segment is poignantly melancholy, even the segments in which people are telling stories about happy times with loved ones or their jobs. People spill grief and irony and self-discovery and love and regret in these booths, and it seems the most important parts of our lives are bound in an equal measure of joy and sadness.
Sometimes it’s hard to hear another’s sadness first thing in the morning.
But each of these stories reveals a relatable truth, a familiar emotion, a known element — which makes them great stories. The best stories show us a part of ourselves.
