The Wall Street Journal Weekend

Ever since that Saturday in January mostly spent at the Fairmont Hotel in Newport Beach (http://scrapsofliteracy.blogspot.com/2011/01/ghosts-grow-larger.html), I've been hooked on The Wall Street Journal Weekend.

It started with free copies I found of it and The New York Times on a table near a pricey breakfast buffet just off the lobby. I took both to the pool, and sat a few rows behind poolside with my sister on plush burgundy pool chairs, and while she opened up "Sundays at Tiffany's" by James Patterson, I began reading both papers.

I liked that while most newspapers report the news breathlessly, in anticipation of it changing in the hours that follow your reading of it, this one seemed calm about everything, taking in all the facts in measured consideration. I don't remember the headlines on that day, but just like the Weekend edition I have today (I went to the newsstand early this morning when my dad had to bring the PT Cruiser to the repair place that's attached to the Kmart building, but not affiliated with it), the facts are all here, laid out smoothly for you to pull from it whatever you want, whatever your beliefs are.

It's the latter sections that make this newspaper one that I absolutely have to get every Saturday. In the "Off Duty" section, which is usually the last section unless there's an issue of Wall Street Journal Magazine included (It's mostly high-gloss fashion stuff), on that January morning, there was an entire page devoted to sandwiches and many of the different kinds, including po boys, along with insights from chefs about what they consider a great sandwich. And then, in the "Review" section that's before "Off Duty", there were book reviews, more book reviews than I usually find in other newspapers. And long ones, too, not just snippets within a column, although there is that as well.

Today's Weekend edition keeps up the same of what I've always expected every time I buy it. There's an above-the-fold article about the budget cut passed by the GOP, financial troubles at Bank of America, and below the fold is where you can find that which you won't find often in other papers. There's a long interview with a former stock market inside trader, and below that, a profile of a bus museum that did not catch on with the public, and it ends with the passion that Jim Lehrer of "NewsHour" on PBS has for buses, including owning one himself.

The Business & Finance section is hit-or-miss for me every week. I usually just skim through it, since while business can have drama for some in numbers, there's not much for me in it. That was pretty much what it was this week, except for an article about Angela Leong, fourth wife to Stanley Ho, a Hong Kong casino magnate, gaining control of a $1.2 billion dollar interest in his casino holdings and therefore his company for six years. There's bits of family drama in that article, and you wonder about the stories within that family, beyond what's been reported, what the conflict is like, especially with all that money at stake.

This week's Review section has the standard Joe Queenan column, this time about him tracing his ancestry and reporting it as only he can in his own wonderfully twisted take.

They have space within Review for a column called "Creating", and they profile people who, well, create things. Today is about whiskey distiller Chris Morris at Brown-Forman. I don't drink, but I like learning as much as I can about everything.

I haven't gotten to the "Off Duty" section yet, which encompasses (according to the strip below the name) "cooking, eating, style, fashion, design, decorating, adventure, travel, gear, gadgets." (There's dots between the words.) I know right off that the article on heels won't interest me, but looking below that, way below the fold, there's "Fresh Takes on Eggs - Four recipes from top chefs" on D5. That's definitely for me.

I like to try to read The Wall Street Journal Weekend each Saturday because I can devote as much time to it as it takes me to read nearly everything. Of course, that depends on when we go out, and when I get the paper, because I don't read it in the car. I don't like to shuffle a paper around in there. I got lucky this morning because I was able to get the paper far earlier than I usually do, and read almost all of the front section at the car repair place, and then skimmed through Business & Finance and got through about half of the Review section at home.

This was in the paper last week, and it's here this week too, a glossy sheet of paper advertising a subscription to The Wall Street Journal Weekend, which I would like. 52 weeks for $52 sounds ok, but the delivery time bothers me. I remember reading on the website for the daily edition that they'd deliver between 3 and 5 a.m., and being that we have two dogs and a front-door walkway gate that squeaks, no way. It's not worth saving $1.20 for the dogs to bark like hell at that hour and wake everyone up. Besides, sometimes at the newsstand, I come upon magazines I want to read, such as the latest issue of Ute Reader, which I would love to work for, as they read alternative press magazines, hundreds of them it would seem, and compile the best articles into each issue. Since I read every day, that would be the job for me, since it doesn't require reviews to be written afterward that would be published. I was a film critic. That's enough as a critic for an entire lifetime.

I remember when I was a kid how reliable Saturday morning cartoons were. Or rather, for me, Saturday morning programming, since the only cartoon I remember watching every single Saturday was "Garfield & Friends." I was also devoted to the "Mighty Morphin Power Rangers", and made sure to tape "Beakman's World", since I was still at my Saturday morning bowling league at Don Carter Lanes in Tamarac by noon.

I like that I have something on Saturday now that's just as reliable, and just as enjoyable. The same pleasure I felt for Saturday morning television is here, too, for The Wall Street Journal Weekend. Yes, a newspaper. I refuse to throw myself into the permanent technological rush hour that has so thoroughly dominated this country. I don't need to know everything that's going on in the world every single minute. I'm fine with getting my news occasionally, but I also require some thoughtfulness from it and that's what I get every Saturday.

A Better Bond

Last night, while reading "Moonraker", I wondered why I liked it a lot more than "Live and Let Die", which I had read before it, going as chronologically as I can, at least with the Fleming books, since I decided to start on the Bond novels by John Gardner at the same time.

I finished it this morning, and I know why. It's because "Moonraker" is as compact as "Casino Royale." The card game that Bond joins to expose Sir Hugo Drax as a cheat at M's request is brilliant in its detail not only of the Blades club, but how Bond sets out to defeat Drax, the methods he uses, the history of what he knows in card playing. It's also interesting to see M differently here. He's usually the boss behind the desk, but here he spends time with Bond at this club.

Plus, Drax ties right into the rest of the story, so Bond doesn't have to travel far this time, getting special permission from Her Majesty's government to operate inside England, which is never the case, as MI6's Special Service (the "00" agents) operates outside of England, around the world, with no jurisdiction within England's borders.

But I know that I liked "Moonraker" because unlike "Live and Let Die", there's no interminable pages involving train travel. The only benefit for me were the descriptions of parts of Florida, and I always love to learn about the history of my home state. But all that time with Solitaire, who's as weak as Jane Seymour's Solitaire in "Live and Let Die"? It takes too long, and the excitement of Bond going after Mr. Big fades for a time because of those pages.

Gala Brand, the woman in this novel, isn't as interesting or really as mysterious as Vesper Lynd in "Casino Royale", but she is as strong as Bond in mind and skill, so it feels like an equal team at least. And the end of "Moonraker", which smashes all of Bond's assumptions about Brand and underscores why he can't have that particular world in which Brand exists as long as he remains 007, is shattering in its cold simplicity. It is indeed a cold world for Bond when he's not being that dashing, skilled agent.

Next is "Diamonds are Forever", and I think the last time I tried to read all the Bond novels, back in 2002 when I was attending classes at Broward Community College at its campus in Pembroke Pines, and hanging out all the time in the Southwest Regional Library (part of the Broward library system) next door, I only got up to "Moonraker." And since I didn't like "Diamonds are Forever" as a Bond film, I hope for better from the original work.

Fun Easter Horrors!

Easter candy's a lot more fun than Halloween candy, as evidenced by the pastel-colored shells on Reese's peanut butter eggs, and that there seems to be a lot more good ideas for Easter candy than just the typical Halloween body parts, although I wonder how a put-your-own-Jesus-together chocolate body would sell. I do love the chocolate crosses, and I wonder if those would indeed ward off Satan if you hold it stiffly in front of you while shouting, "The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!"

Or maybe Satan is a chocoholic, too, and then you've found a friend.

Nevertheless, I still want to see a zombie Easter bunny that eats children and then the eggs.

Something I've Wondered

My part-time job happens in the evening, compiling job listings for a freelance writing newsletter. Fortunately, there's a program on the admin website for this newsletter that grabs up all the potentially viable listings on Craigslist and puts it together so that all I have to do is click the "Filter Content" tab, and there they are, one after the other, for me to decide what to put in.

There has been one thing overall that I've wondered in all the time I've done this, at least since Craigslist began advertising for an online documentary series profiling those who use Craigslist to search for whatever. Take this, for example:

http://losangeles.craigslist.org/wst/wrg/2323553410.html

"Native Spanish-Speaking Social Media Writer - Pet Communities"

No disrespect intended toward the purpose of the listing. It's a job, and a job is always good, especially for whoever gets it. But under all that business, the person who has posted the listing clicked the option that indicates: "OK to contact me about appearing in CL documentary series"

Tell me: Why is it always the godawful boring listings on Craigslist that have this indicated?

I've Found My Path

I spent part of the evening sitting on the floor at PetSmart in Stevenson Ranch in front of the sealed-off bird cages, reading "Moonraker" by Ian Fleming, part of my goal to read all the James Bond novels ever published. Mom and Meridith were looking at the birds, deciding if there were any that could make a trio of finches for us. (We have Mr. Chips and Gizmo, but Mom's still on the fence about another third finch. She believes it would be easier this time with only two, just like with two dogs, and certainly when we move.)

I got to page 124 in that span of time, but when we reached the car to head home, I was reticent about hooking my reading light onto this paperback copy, not for fear of tearing, but because despite however many pages I hold to the front cover to create a strong-enough base for the reading light, there's always a droop. So I opened up "Out of the Cracker Barrel" by William Cahn, a hardcover book, ostensibly about the formation of the Nabisco Corporation, but moreso about its founder, Adolphus W. Green. There is such depth of research and clear-eyed observation here. Cahn just wants the facts to be known and it's fascinating to read, along with the historical photos, which are astonishing in their clarity. These are really good black-and-white photographs.

After passing page 22, I couldn't wait anymore. Not that I wait until the end to read an author's bio, but I wanted to know right away who William Cahn was and what else he had done with his life (I just found out that the Walter P. Reuther Library at Wayne State University in Detroit has a collection of his papers, and that he died in 1976). And I got this:

"William Cahn, a Dartmouth College graduate, is a public relations consultant and author of several successful books, including The Story of Pitney-Bowes; Einstein, A Pictorial Biography; The Laugh Makers, A Pictorial History of American Comedians; Harold Lloyd's World of Comedy; Good Night Mrs. Calabash: The Secret of Jimmy Durante. He is also the co-author of The Story of Writing.

Mr. Cahn is particularly interested in the documentary form which permits facts or photographs--or both--to re-create history, whether of a man, an era or an institution. "When the author is more moderator than judge, a work of history comes alive. This is what I have tried to do in Out of the Cracker Barrel."

Mr. Cahn lives with his wife and three children in New Haven, Connecticut."

With that bibliography, Cahn clearly followed his passions. That's what I intend to do. Besides my next book, I've got two novels in mind, one of which will be based upon Don Quixote, and I haven't even read it yet. I like the gist of it, though, and I've figured out an unattainable holy grail for my Quixote figure. However, I'm not sure if I have any more ideas for novels beyond those two, but being that I'm 27, and have probably only seen barely 1/8 of the world so far, there may be more in the decades to come.

I'm also planning two books about condiments (yes, condiments), one involving the packaging of condiments. I know there's enough historical material for both books. I just have to dig for it.

I have a folder on this computer and on my flash drive for plays, and I've got at least 50 ideas. But out of those, there are 2 or 3 that really excite me, and I'm sure I can develop the others over time, if indeed there's anything there.

I don't expect to get rich off any of this. I know a full-time job will be absolutely necessary, but since I know what I want to do, and I'm passionate about either option, that won't be a problem.

But all of this is exactly what I want to do with my life. Actually, it is my life. It's my hobbies, too. I don't feel like there's anything missing. I'm excited every day with what there is to do as a writer. There have been shit days with my words, and there will be more shit days, guaranteed, but at least there'll be something written on those days that can be improved upon on the good days. I've always leaned more toward the editing side of writing, and despite the hardships, I'm grateful every day for those five weeks that I was the interim editor of the weekend Escape section at The Signal. It taught me not only about the pressures involved in getting the words into print, but also how to streamline them, to make them even better for readers.

I get to read and write every day. I can't think of anything else I want. Well, more books to read, but that's a given.

The Moment That Will Continue to Inspire Me Through My Next Book

Just like with "My Thirty Years Backstairs at the White House," I started reading "Write It When I'm Gone" by esteemed journalist Thomas M. DeFrank last night, and finished it late this morning. It's a series of three decades of off-the-record interviews with Gerald R. Ford, who told DeFrank he could print all this after his death. And DeFrank did. And while it yielded very little information for my own book, it's a remarkable, highly informative journey through the feelings and historical moments of America's first and only unelected vice president and president, which Ford did not like, and wanted so badly to be elected in his own right, but came to terms with it in due time in his post-presidential life.

In my notes, I took down names to look up, titles of other books to read, political names to look up, such as James Callaghan of Britain, but I found a moment in here that speaks to exactly what I believe in my own life: No one is above me and no one is below me. And I hold the same belief for presidents. They may have access to nuclear launch codes, and their words reverberate throughout the world, but they are human. Their historical position does not change that.

Ford showed that many times, being a gentle man and a good man. DeFrank writes this in his epilogue:

"All of us in this crazy business of journalism retain instances that stick in our brains, moments that really weren't newsworthy or happened past deadline, so they never made it into print or onto the air, but are memorable nonetheless because they offer an unexpected window into the character and humanity of a public life.

For me, one of those iconic insights occurred just four days after Gerald Ford became president, as he was fiddling with the speech he would give to a joint session of Congress in less than two hours.

Suddenly, Ford looked up from his text and a postprandial martini.

"Howard, have you had dinner?" he asked Commander Howard Kerr, the naval aide who had delivered the final speech draft to Ford's modest home in the Virginia suburbs.

When Kerr said he hadn't eaten, the new president led the officer into the kitchen and plucked the remains of the new First Lady's tuna noodle casserole from the oven. Ford spooned out the entree onto a plate and put it on the kitchen table. "Have some dinner," he told Kerr. "I'm going to go work on the speech."

Mr. President, I can't dedicate this book to you when the time comes, but I see now that you are the reason for this book. Thank you.

Another Great Review for "What If They Lived?"

Felix Vasquez, Jr. and I wrote for Film Threat (http://www.filmthreat.com/) at the same time, but our contact was usually limited to occasional conversations, and it's been so long since we've talked at length on Facebook. Phil Hall, the co-author of "What If They Lived?", had a copy of the book sent to him and here is the result:

http://www.cinema-crazed.com/Cinemusings/whatiftheylived.htm