Category Archives: Hey Teach!

12.30.11
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Resolutions

A resolution is either an ending or a beginning.  The generally accepted idea of a situation being resolved would mean that it is brought to some sort of conclusion – at least in the eye of the resolver.  As with anything, of course, this depends on what side of the argument you’re on.

For example:

The political liberal in me refuses to believe the US presidential election of George W. Bush in 2000 was ever resolved despite the highest court in the US, the Supreme Court, having declared that the issue has, indeed, ended.   Uh, uh.  I don’t think so.  He wasn’t president for eight years.  Sorry.

As for the movies, for me there has never been a resolve (and never will be) to the Oscar race for best picture in 1994.  Oh sure, the Academy resolved that race years ago for itself and proclaimed that “Forrest Gump” was the winner.  But that’s simply impossible because that film annoyed me to no resolution; plus, it was also the year of “The Shawshank Redemption” (a perfect film), “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” “Bullets Over Broadway” and even “Pulp Fiction” – all movies that will endure waaay more favorably in my mind long after the aforementioned “best” picture.  Yes, even though that, uh, “best” picture was this week chosen as one of three films by the Library of Congress in 2011 to be preserved in PERPETUITY in our National Film Registry (along with “Silence of the Lambs” and Bambi” – last time you hear those three mentioned in one sentence) because of its outstanding artistic achievement.  B. F. D.  Something or someone willing itself or themselves into worldwide acclaim despite its obvious inferiority and unlikelihood (like in the plot of some Hollywood movie) is still faaaaar from resolved for me.  I mean, nothing like that could ever happen in real life.  Not really.

Life is not a box of chocolates.

The one resolution I can agree to in my current state of mind is the fact that 2011 is fading into distant memory and 2012 is now forging its way into the spotlight.  This transformation to center stage – sort of like Madonna slowly getting the torch pried out of her hand and passed to Lady Gaga or, well, cable TV consistently besting the networks for awards/prestige for dramatic television for shows like “Mad Men,” “Homeland” and Breaking Bad” despite the top four trying desperately to compete with them with new shows like “The Playboy Club,” “Pan Am” and “Charlie’s Angels” (Okay, I know I’m being unfair, but besides “The Good Wife,” which I’m a bit tired of everyone holding up as the reason why all network dramas are as good as those on cable, what are their big award-contenders?) means the start of something new. Like a new year.

Hurry up 2012! The wait is agony...

The start of a new year also ushers in a long-standing tradition of making resolutions for the upcoming 12- month period that we will name 2012.  How did this tradition start?  You got me.  I scoured the internet for at least half an hour and asked numerous people I know (okay, four) about this and the best I can come up with is that this has been going on since ancient Roman times and that Kings and kingdoms have forever been thinking up stuff they will resolve to do.  Stuff that they want to achieve (like reversing the 1994 best picture winner or simply letting it go); or would like to not put off (like putting all my files in order and throwing out that second or third draft of a screenplay so old that its not on a computer disk, but one that I still, you know, might need); or even stuff they hope to achieve (aside from world peace, which is too lofty for one person to work on but certainly an admirable idea) or at least shoot for in the new year.

I actually like this last one – the one about jotting down some ideas of things you want to do.  Most writers I know, including myself, hate schedules and deadlines yet I will publicly admit here that having an idea of what you want to accomplish and giving yourself a time frame in which to achieve it, can do wonders for your output.  The trick to it is – and it’s tricky – to come up with a list that will take some work on your part, and yet, is remotely achievable – if you push yourself.

I’m not going to bore you with my short list.  I’m tempted but, well…okay…you twisted my arm.

The Chair’s Resolutions

  1. Continue writing this blog and expanding it.  Yes, it’s in the works even as we speak.  I hope you like that idea.  But even if you don’t it doesn’t matter because resolutions are really only for the resolver. And besides, I might win you over.  You never know.
  2. Write and direct (oy, on the latter) my first film (a short film) because that is achievable but also a stretch – something that a good resolution certainly requires.  Also, it will allow the writer me to blame no one else but myself for the final result – which will be a welcome change for some of my friends and from some of my past behaviors.
  3. Read all of the backlog of scripts I’ve promised everyone (other writers) I would read.  See, I always plan to read these scripts quickly and then things get in the way.  Like, uh, making that list of resolutions.  But I do not agree to read things I don’t plan on reading.  I just get backlogged.   With resolutions.
  4. Continue to try to inject humor into most everything but resist the temptation to be overly snide and bitchy because, well, sometimes that’s just plain mean (save for “Forrest Gump.” That “achievement in film artistry” can certainly take it.  And if that’s too bitchy, well, too bad, it’s still 2011).
  5. Try to be more tolerant of things I dislike but not so tolerant that it dries up all subject matter, sentence structure and P.O.V moments I have on the page because as I’ve said before – if it’s “all good,” is everything fine?  Even Rick Santorum and Sarah Palin?  Uh, I don’t think so.  I’m not that nice, not that humorous, and certainly not so devoid of resolve that I will ignore my inner (mini?) me.   Plus, I have a significant number of politically conservative students I adore and want to be open to – AND vice-versa.  (Note:  This does fall short of liberal academia brainwashing but far exceeds what would one get in home schooling or in any one episode of The Duggars TV show, “19 Kids and Counting.”  Which, by the way, is still on the air – though not on any of the big 4 networks.

Okay, I’ve listed my resolutions.  What are yours?  List them in the comments.

Yes, we all make (or have made) fun of the idiots who do make these lists and convince themselves that they will actually follow through with what they plan.  Of course, we are all idiots from time to time and even more often than that.  And — as they say on the wall of idiot clichés – or perhaps in one of the new movies on the National Film Registry – even a broken clock is right twice a day.

Happy 2012 everyone.

Peace and Love (cause I’m a sixties guy at heart).

And as such — I   love you  hate you   accept you “Forrest Gump.”  Though we are far from resolved.

11.25.11
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The Talented Mr. Ginsberg

A very famous actor once told me that although he did study, acting was something he could always do.  It came natural.  Almost easy.  That is not to say it didn’t take effort.  And an emotional toll at times.  But it bears repeating,  from a very early age he knew it was something he could do.

My path as a writer was similar.  It’s not as if I thought as a kid I could make my living putting words together.  When I was young there were three professions being offered a. doctor b. lawyer 3. accountant.  Well, we can scratch a. and 3 right off the bat.  I skipped high school chemistry and I was not a numbers man.  That left me and my mouth – so lawyer would seem like a perfect fit.  You’d think.

But one business law class (yes, it was at 8am every Tuesday and Thursday but still…) changed all that.  I always thought there were at least 2 or 3 right answers under the law because isn’t life all about shades of gray and spinning a tale to prove your point?  Uh, no.  Being a lawyer was more than arguing.  It was also about memorizing.  Well, screw that.

Thankfully that left me with only this thing I could always do – write.  But geeez – how do you get paid for this?  Uh, if anyone still knows the answer to this question please email me back?  PLEASE?

I’m only half-kidding for dramatic effect about the paying part (sort of).  If you have talent and really want to, you can find a way to get paid for it in some form.  It might not be in the arena you prefer (at least not yet) or you might not be using it in the exact form you had in mind, but what you learn as time progresses is that no matter how screwed up things or people are, no one can take away your innate ability at what you can, almost instinctively, do well.  (Note: This is not to say that you don’t need to practice or that you even have to pursue payment for your talent – talent is just the raw material.  But both of these are subjects of another discussion).

Guess the famous "raw" talent?

Insecurities, comparisons and the infernal American system of rating who is the “best of” in any category of life (from the Oscars to nursery school certificates) convince many people to believe that they have no real talent.  In a word – WRONG.

My belief in my soul of souls is that everyone has a talent, especially those who are convinced they don’t.  It might not be your preferred one, or perhaps it is but you don’t know it because you don’t think of it as a talent.  Well, why would you if it’s something you could always do?  That’s not talent, if it comes so naturally is it?  Uh, yeah, it is.

I truly marvel at anyone who is mechanical and can put together something without it immediately collapsing or eventually falling apart. ( I used to think this was a nerdy, Woody Allen-ish Jewish thing until I became friends with a Jewish best friend in college who proved this theory very and quite wrong).  I also don’t understand how someone invents something, anything.  And how does a television work?  Yeah, I’ve read how countless times.   But sound waves?  What about electricity?  I just don’t get it.  I can wire a sound system if the wires are color-coded but that’s about it.   How about fixing stuff?  Plumbing?  A car?  Or why would anyone take the chance of surgically opening something or someone up, even after 10 years of schooling?  What if you’re having a bad day?  And — how about raising a child?  Uh, no thank you.  I don’t have the patience and would surely screw them up worse than myself.  Thankfully, there are others who want to do all of that.  Yet I teach.  And I’m good at that.   And then they even say, those who can do, and those who can’t teach – as if it takes no talent to teach?  Oh please, give me a break.  Try going through a time machine and sitting through my 9th grade social studies class and see if you don’t agree with me and disagree with that.  But I digress.

The other funny thing about talent is how easily it can be misused.  As Glinda asks Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, “Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?” and it too bears repeating.  For example, I’ve always been wary if my actor friend is being real with me in conversation, if he’s that good at pretend.    As for me, I can write my way out of anything I don’t want to know.  Why acknowledge it’s real if I can make it into my own story and change it (or at least fix the ending?).  It took me a very long time to recognize this because, truly, in my heart this wasn’t an ability but simply a way of being.  And anyway, this wasn’t a talent.   If I were talented it would be something else.  Because the talent I really wanted was to sing.  Like, really sing.  Broadway, movies, Carnegie Hall.  I’m not kidding.

Yet at some point it becomes apparent that there is both talent and destiny and that John Lennon was right – “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.”  If you’re lucky enough, at some point you begin to not give up learning new stuff but also begin to embrace all that you can do really well.  At first it might feel like you’re settling for the next best thing, especially when you want to star in Hugh Jackman’s one-man show.  But I can acknowledge what is real if I can make it into my own story and change (or at least fix) the ending.

But when it becomes apparent what your personal destiny is calling you to, you slowly (or for some, quickly) begin to recognize, enjoy, hone and appreciate it.  It takes work but in my case I’m grateful that I can, well, do something.   And though it took me awhile, I finally got the point to where I wouldn’t trade it because, well, then I wouldn’t be me.   Besides, how happy can Hugh Jackman be anyway — singing and dancing on Broadway in a one man show with his name over the title.  Or, actually, as the title.

I hate him... I love him... I want to be him!

Thanksgiving is a time where you’re supposed to appreciate/look at what you have and give thanks.  But this is difficult when you don’t appreciate it or don’t honor it.  I think we’re taught not to value something that is natural and that achievement is only about when something is (or seems) impossible.  It’s kind of backwards, if you think about it.  Give thanks for the talent.  Own it.  Love it.  And appreciate what you have.  And then – try to make it better.

Unless you can sing – then all bets are off.