Secretariat

I was a year out of college when Big Red won the Triple Crown.  I remember watching the Belmont race in my Aunt Babe's basement on Long Island with family members.  It was amazing.  He was amazing.  The money shot that ran all over the world of his jockey looking backwards to see where the hell the other horses were in a 31 length blow out said it all.

We went to a screening of Disney's version of the Secretariat story last night. As many have suggested, the film  might better be called "Penny," because the movie is mostly about this extraordinary woman's role in creating one of the finest equine athletes of all time.  Penny Chenery took over the operation of her father's thoroughbred breeding farm in 1968, made the decision to breed two of their mares to Bold Ruler (one of the changes you'll see in the film to heighten tensions in the film was changing the timing of when she took over the farm shows the decision was her father's and puts her into a coin-flip that was actually his), and produced both Riva Ridge (not even mentioned in the film) and Secretariat.

I really enjoyed the film, because it does a real good job of showing how difficult things could be for a smart woman back in the late 1960s.  Penny had a degree from Smith and attended Columbia University's business school, but gave up her own aspirations for marriage and family until her father became ill.  She clearly had the training and the background to run the farm, but she gets a lot of "nice girl" pats on the head before people realize that she's a steel magnolia.

The screening audience had a huge range of attendees, from small children to octogenarians, and lots of horse people.

Watching the film, it became clear to me that Zenyatta has the same kind of effect that a Secretariat or Seabiscuit had on the public.  I firmly believe that these horses are/were self-aware.  They know/knew what they were doing, know/knew what the fuss was about, and are/were having a great time putting on a show.

I went to both of Zenyatta's "Farewell Appearances" late last year, so I've seen her in the flesh, but I couldn't bring myself to watch her actually race.  Her style would give me a heart attack in person.  I wait until the races are put on-line to watch her go from the back of the pack and destroy the souls of horses who think they are going to win.  Here on the West Coast we've been treated to the kind of disdain that happened with Seabiscuit back during the Depression--because she is a California horse, somehow Zenyatta's 19-0 record isn't really much to talk about according to the East Coast racing writers.  Are they crazy?  Or are they just snobs?

I recommend going to see Secretariat and then having a good time finding actual footage of his Triple Crown wins on-line.  Then I'd suggest watching footage of Zenyatta (the video shot from Mike Smith's helmet during training is amazing) and see what she does in the Breeders' Cup in November.  She's brought Secretariat level excitement back to racing.

Watching Horses Beats Watching Television

Since I haven't had time to write much lately, I thought I'd share a link to a story about a pony I read this morning.  I laughed until I cried.

Moving--Again

Some of you may remember that we had no intention of moving back into our house after we had a fire in 2009.  Unfortunately, health matters brought a screeching halt to our attempts to find a house to purchase (and the one on which we made an offer fell into a black hole of pre-foreclosure hell.)  So, in March, we moved back into the rebuilt and somewhat reconfigured place Len's owned since before we met.  Lucky for us, my winnings on Jeopardy! and a royalty check for Lucius Fox's appearance in The Dark Knight meant we didn't have to put our place up for sale to have the down-payment for a bigger home--a real luxury these days.

Trying to find the right house for both of us took a bit of time, and closing on it has taken longer than we expected.  Escrow closed on August 20, but we discovered the previous occupants had left a mess behind.  The clean-up crew has worked tirelessly, the painter moved in for a week, the electrician had plenty to fix, and, without folks breathing down our necks to move into our house, we could take a relaxed and organized approach toward getting our stuff to the new place.  On Thursday, the movers will take our furniture to the new location. This is the back yard :

It's about four miles from where we currently live, and it's more than twice the square footage in both house and land.  It isn't big enough or zoned for Ace to live in the back yard, but I will also be several miles closer to him.

I'll finally have a big, eat-in kitchen with lots of counter space, a prep sink in the center island and a Viking cook-top with a grill.  The house has three fireplaces, a pool house with a 3/4 bath, a summer kitchen with built-in grill, refrigerator and sink (and disposal!)  The house has two enormous bathrooms with glass showers and separate whirlpool bath tubs, plus a small powder room off the laundry room.  There are four bedrooms, a large living room, something described as a formal dining room (but too small for what I'd consider a formal dining room table), a family room, and what must have been another small bedroom that's been converted to an enormous walk-in closet.  We're going to make the attached garage our library/workroom.  And, oh yeah, there's a wine cellar. 

If you know anyone who'd like to buy a cozy, completely renovated mid-century ranch house with a pool in Woodland Hills, California, walking distance to two Orange Line stops, one house away from the bike-path, a few blocks from Pierce College, and occupied for the past 24 years by famous comic book writer (and Wolverine and Swamp Thing creator) Len Wein, it will be on the market in a matter of weeks.

Patricia Neal, RIP

I just saw a news report that acress Patricia Neal has died.  She starred in my favorite science fiction film, The Day the Earth Stood Still.  I'm talking about the 1951 original, not the 2008 abomination.  Big explosions do not make a better story, and the director who thought he was honoring Robert Wise was delusional.  I recently watched, for the first time, her film A Face in the Crowd.  It was simply amazing.  Her turn as Olivia Walton struck me as closer to the reality of what a Depression-era mother with seven children would look like than that of Michael Lerned (or Maureen O'Hara in Spencer's Mountain, which preceded them both.)

I was pretty young when it happened, but I remember reading about the accident which almost killed her son.  I also remember reading about the stroke she had before she was 40 and her recovery.  She was pretty remarkable.

For a very brief time, a friend of ours dated her vivacious daughter, Tessa Dahl.  We had dinner together once.  As she and I sat talking, the pieces started falling together, and I realized who this Tessa sitting next to me was.  There were 10 or 12 of us at the table, and Tessa was stunned to learn that all of us considered The Day the Earth Stood Still to be one of the greatest science fiction films ever made.  She had never seen it.  I hope that she subsequently took the time to watch it.  It holds up really well, and her mother is perfect in it.
****
I was rather glad to see that Keith Olbermann brought up Patricia Neal on his Monday broadcast and mentioned both The Day the Earth Stood Still (describing her as "the only rational character") and A Face in the Crowd.  I've long recognized Keith's geekdom, and, of course, he continually (and rightly) compares the irrational Glen Beck to Andy  Griffith's character in A Face in the Crowd, whom Patricia Neal discovers and then uncovers.

Miss Trouble Strikes Again

Little Miss Trouble earned herself a trip to the emergency room last night.  For the second time, she got into something that made her face swell.  The first time, it was just her eye.  This time, eyes, neck, jaw.  She looked more like a pit bull than a golden retriever.  I figured it was better to get her to a vet than to risk a middle of the night crisis, so off we went.

54 pounds of puppy is a lot of strength, and trying to manipulate her while opening and closing doors and filling out paperwork is a trick.  At one point, the vet tech suggested rattle snake--unlikely, but not impossible--but they couldn't find fang marks to match.  I figure it was a spider or one of the bugs she likes to catch got her instead.  Two hours, with steriods and benedryl by IV, later, we headed home.  She looked a bit better, but by this morning she looked herself.

Dexter is a perfect dog, but Ginger is a scamp.

Another Comic-Con Survived

Another year, another San Diego Comic-Con International survived.  Michael and I headed down on Wednesday morning after dropping Len off at Cedars-Sinai for dialysis.  That way, I could have a few extra hours with my dear friend Gloria Benson, who was bringing her granddaughter Seven to Comic-Con, the first trip for either of them.  Len came down with a couple of friends, but traffic delayed his arrival until almost 7:30, by which time I had picked up Gloria and Seven at their hotel, had lunch, checked into our hotel, picked up all of our badges, and started swimming in the sea of humanity at the preview opening of the convention.  

This year, we stayed at the Hard Rock Hotel.  It was our 10th choice, but at least it was walking distance from the convention.  Those are the "sails" at the top of the SDCC.  As you can see from the photo we were a few stories above a party area, but the one you can't see was the noisy one.  There was always music playing--I got a kick out of the check-in desk asking what my choices of music were, and when we got to the room, classic rock was playing.  I knew I was home when I stepped off the elevator and there was a huge photo of the Beatles in Miami in 1964--a photo a knew well from my Beatles trading cards of that era.

As it did last year, SyFy took over the cafe in the Hard Rock, and the decor and menu reflected that.
Here's my son, Michael, waiting for breakfast.

On Thursday, Len was on the panel that followed the showing of a documentary about the 75 year history of DC Comics.  It will be released on November 11.  It was informative and touching. The clips of Julie Schwartz made us all cry.  We miss Julie, who was the editor of Superman for many years and brought on what is called the Silver Age of Comics by reviving The Flash.  I knew Julie before I ever met Len.

Friday was the Warner Bros. & DC Comics Party.  Gloria and Seven stood in line for three hours that morning and failed to get into The Big Bang Theory panel because the True Blood fans had taken over the 6500-seat room first thing in the morning and stayed until that panel at 5:30 at night.  Nobody told the people in line that the room wasn't being cleared and that they would never get in.  The Bare Naked Ladies played and Wil Wheaton moderated TBBT panel, so I was really sorry that I didn't get in, either.   I figured it wasn't really fair to ask Bill Prady to get me in two years in a row (and Bill was sad I didn't ask.)

Fortunately for me, Bare Naked Ladies, who wrote and perform TBBT theme also played the much smaller WB party, introduced by Chuck Lorre. BNL were not bare, naked, or ladies.

Jim Parsons and Wil Wheaton had a bit of a chat at the party. I can't seem to upload the video with Johnny and Simon swaying to the band, though.

As they did last year, members of the costumer's guild took some of the different over-sized WB swag bags and turned them into fashion statements from the 1940s.

I particularly like the hat in this photograph.  I missed photographing the zoot suit.

 Mark Valley was at the party, but we missed talking to him. 

Here he is talking to the sheriff on Eureka (and checking his cell phone.)

We did catch Chi McBride, who calls me "Mrs. Len" when he sees me.  He's utterly charming and inclined to kiss me on the wrist.  I think he's cuddly.

Seven expressed her desire to meet Stan Lee, and I was able to accommodate her wish when Stan walked right in front of me at the preview.  Unfortunately, we couldn't get cameras out to record her reaction, which included Gloria admonishing her to "breathe, breathe."

I was also able to introduce her to the amazing Sergio Aragones, and, on Saturday, even stopped Sergio to photograph them together.  He and Gloria spoke in Spanish and he cooed over Seven.
At the Quick Draw Panel, Sergio was one of six artists who performed.  The top half of the drawing of Sergio was done by another Mad Magazine artist. 

 The image was covered at the belt and Sergio drew the bottom half without knowing it was a drawing of himself.  Hilarity ensued. 

The other two drawings below were done by Sergio to incorporate the caption "Sit on it."  I think he did six drawings on that round all together.  All different. 

 Sergio's impression of the BP oil spill.

Sergio's thoughts on the Arizona anti-immigration law.

Len participated in the Quick Draw by guessing words or phrases the artists drew.  He really has a good time doing it. 

Later on Saturday, we split up so he could sign with the Human Target cast and do the press feeding frenzy and I could go to a private cocktail party at the Hilton. 

Before I left Gloria and Seven in the Human Target autograph line, I photographed Len with the new producer (who created Chuck) and the new producer with Mark Valley and Chi McBride. 

I got back in time to catch the Human Target panel, but I almost didn't get into the room.  We did an end-run around security, and after, we got a photograph of Len with Jackie Earle Haley.

The Hard Rock had an  11 a.m. check out, so I spent the morning taking care of that.  Len had the annual Pro v. Fan trivia contest that afternoon, and then we did dinner with Paul Levitz before the dead dog party and the drive home.  Wisely, I took Monday off from work, and even though I couldn't sleep all day, it was nice to catch a few extra hours of shut-eye.

And it is a mere 51 weeks before we do the whole thing again.

Ginger Update

She's fine, but we had a scare with New Puppy, who turns 5 months old today.  We took her in to be spayed two weeks ago.  The rescue group made us promise to get it done before she turned five months old.  We took her to their vet, because the spay was part of the adoption fee. We were told they nicked her urethra which required the removal of one of her kidneys.  She had a huge incision and looked so helpless when we went in to see her.  Everyone was upset, rightly so.

It has slowed her down almost not at all.  A few days of pain pills, 10 days of antibiotics, and, except for the staples that come out tomorrow, you'd never know anything was wrong.  I've gotten attached to seeing her run around in my tee-shirts (a really good alternative to the Cone of Shame which was suggested by the vet), but I'm sure she'll be happy not to wear it any longer.

We were so happy that there was no change to her delightful personality, and she's happily getting into all kinds of mischief.  I had intended to start her in a puppy obedience class, but that will have to wait until the Fall since the summer session has already started.  She will get to go to the dog park with her big brother, and I'm sure that when my friend Lira house-sits next week, she will get some obedience training. 

A Gift from Janis Ian

I got an e-mail the other day that would have thrilled my sixteen-year-old self.  

Last year, my friend Janis Ian agreed to be my toastmistress for the Nebula Awards ceremony I produced for the Science Fiction Writers of America.  While I would never have asked her to perform music for free, Janis soon asked if it would be o.k. for her to sing at the event.  Duh!

Janis didn't just sing.  She wrote new lyrics for her hit At Seventeen for the evening, entitling it Welcome Home. Like At Seventeen, it hit the mark. Big Bang Theory co-creator Chuck Lorre, no stranger to musical composition himself, was sitting next to me and was blown away. Many of the attendees were referenced, as were many old friends no longer with us. There were many tears in the corners of eyes that night.

The e-mail Janis sent the other day included the file for the song she wrote with her good wishes to spread it wide (but asking that appropriate credit be given.)  She's now made it available for us to put it online.  Here's a link to Welcome Home, that goes through my friend Kristine Kathryn Rusch's website, since I don't know how to get it here any other way.  (And if you pass it on, please credit Music © Mine Music Ltd./EMI Japan Publishing/Lyric © Rude Girl Publishing.  All rights reserved.  International copyright secured.  Used by Permission.)

If you like the song, please consider going to Janis' website and make a contribution to The Pearl Foundation.  Her charity is named for her mother and it funds scholarships for older women who want to return to school.  It's a cause I can believe in, since A.A.U.W. gave me money to go to law school as an older student.

Adventures of New Puppy

Friday was Ginger's visit to the vet, who pronounced her perfect in every way.  No kennel cough in evidence.  A weight gain of seven pounds.  Time for an adventure!

On Saturday, I took Ginger up to the barn to meet her really big brother, Ace.  She was appropriately apprehensive, unlike Dexter who thought the horses should respond to barking and play-bows by, well, playing.  Ginger had a rough and tumble time with Gayle's Aussie shepherd, Eli, even though she was on a lead.  After Ace finished his lesson, she got a chance to get a little bit closer.

Willie, a Haflinger, was less intimidating, so she got even closer.

I would call it a successful visit to the barn and she even got a lesson in walking on the leash from Gayle.

On Sunday, she had us in hysterics and reminded us of a poem we once heard Tim Curry read at the L.A. Public Library. The poem is from an anthology called Unleashed: Poems by Writers' Dogs.  This four line poem is called "Birch" and it is by Karen Shepherd.  Every dog owner I know understands this poem.

Are you going to eat that?
Are you going to eat that?
Are you going to eat that?
I'll eat that!

Our friend Lisa, subject of this display of dog cuteness, does volunteer work for a pet adoption charity, so she was not all bothered by having Ginger hover near by looking for a hand-out.

The New Addition

Is there anything as adorable as a Golden Retriever puppy? I doubt it. This cute little face belongs to Ginger, the new baby in our lives. We got her a week ago from the Southern California Golden Retriever Rescue. She was born on February 14, and she's the first puppy we've owned since we got our late, beloved Muffin as a six-week-old back in 1995.
Ginger was an owner turn-in to the organization and all I can say is, their loss, our gain. She's a bouncing bundle of energy and curiosity, is crate-trained, and already knows "sit" and "down," although "stay" is going to be a tough concept. She's a true retriever, constantly bringing sticks, leaves, and clumps of dirt into the house and stealing shoes, potholders, and pretty much anything not nailed down outside. She likes to play in her water bowl, and, given the chance, will turn it over to dump it and then carry it around. But most of all, she likes to rough-house with her new big brother, Dexter.

Dex will be five next week. We got him from SCGRR almost two years ago (in September) and since Muffin died in November of 2009 and Sheba died in our house fire last spring, he's been the only dog in our pack and he just loves to play. Muff and Sheba were 14 when we got him, so they weren't terribly interested in puppy play (although Goldens don't every really grow up), but Sheba let him know who was boss and he complied.

Now he's got a puppy to run and wrestle with, to play tug of war with, and to set a good example for. And, I think he already realizes, the girl is going to rule the roost when she's older. Even now, he lets her hoard the toys--I watched her take something away from him and then sit on it and two other toys so he couldn't have them. Thought I would die laughing.

Last night, after Dex spent some time pinning her down by sitting on her, Ginger started bouncing up onto one of the chairs and leaping into the air to land wrapped around Dexter's neck, then she'd slide off and do it all over again. I suppose I should have been concerned that she'd go flying into the 73" TV screen, but that didn't happen. The two of them go rolling across the floor in a big ball of fur and bear teeth at each other, but Dex is an amazing gentle giant and very good big brother to the little imp.

More than once, we've found them exhausted with their noses a few inches apart. It is absolutely precious. The late Chris Reeve once described something as "almost as much fun as a room full of Golden Retriever puppies." I know exactly what he meant.