Easter

Easter.

Not exactly my favorite holiday, given my distain for organized religion. Though my heathan attitude doesn't quite compare to my good friend's who expressed his thanks for Easter in this manner:

a sweet four-day weekend. Thank Christ for dying and being resurrected as a bunny.

Even so, this Easter was a bit more drab than usual. The city of Rochester is dressed in its Easter Sunday best: bits of black, crusty snow still cling desperately to the boulevards; the grass is brown and adorned with all the soggy paper and dog shit that's been hiding under the mamoth snowbanks that accumulated during the winter months; the gutters are clogged with garbage and suspicious brown sludge; and not a single daffodil or crocus can be found. That's not quite what people had in mind when they concocted the traditions of easter egg hunts on the lawn and outfits of pale purple, yellow and pink. Then again, those traditions were likley devised by people living in much warmer climes.

So, what did I do with my Easter? No honey-roasted easter ham. No hot-cross buns. No chocolate bunnies. Instead, I worked on my blasted paper and graded my students papers. On a happier note, the papers I've marked so far suggest that my students have made considerable improvement since the beginning of the semester. I've yet to find a student who did worse on this second paper than s/he did on the first paper. And most students show remarkable improvement. Some of their papers presented down-right unusual ideas and original insight. Many actually took my advise and went out on a limb by proposing slightly daring titles or attention-grabbing first lines. Others made remarkablly effective use of punctuation and seemed to focus on not just what they were saying but how they were saying it. Some students provided very detailed analysis of particular scenes or shots from the film. Sounds great, right? Well, other papers are still chock full of grammatical errors. Some still failed to incorporate a single bit of convincing evidence. Some presented thesis statements that are completely un-arguable. And all sixteen students chose to write about the same film: The Exorcist. In all fairness, I must take full responsibility for that last point of criticism. The timing of the assignment meant that The Exorcist was the most likely choice. I don't mind, really, as they have plenty of interesting things to say about the film. It just means that by the time I start reading the last paper it will be pretty hard for the author to write anything that will surprise me.

Also, I figured out how to transfer the clips I'll need for my conference paper. I was concerned that would prove impossible as I only have DVD copies of the films I'll be using and the conference only supports VHS formating. Ridiculous, really, given that this is one of the largest annual conferences for cinema and media studies scholars. One would think that media scholars would recognize the need to be a bit more tech-diverse. Ah well. I did manage to get the short clips transfered onto VHS and all's well. Now I just have to be careful I don't erase the videos while transporting them across various airport security lines. Perhaps I'll bring two copies just in case. I also have to make sure all my student visa information is neat and tidy. I would hate to be denied entry either as I enter the United Kingdom or, perhaps even worse, as I return to Rochester! I wouldn't worry about the visa issue at all if it weren't for the ominous refrain of one ISO staff member: "they're much more strict now. Make sure you've got all your documents in order." I swear I heard the woman say that no less than five times when I stopped by to pick up my travel authorization letter on Friday.

Criminal Women

I've made a few small changes to my planned paper and am now writing about Manslaughter, a 1922 Cecil B. DeMille film, and the 1921 Browning film, Outside the Law. There are several reasons for the change in plans. First, the temporal proximity of their production makes it easier to talk about the historical and political events that impacted both films' representations of female deviance--not the least of which is the Volstead Act and prohibition. Second, the films actually represent two distinct trends in representations of the female criminal: one showcases the female criminal's excess of masculinity and power-mongering, while the other highlights her excessive femininity and almost hysterical succeptiblity to excessive drinking, overt displays of sexuality, and other modern vices.

I also just discoverd that the actor who played Lydia Thorpe in Manslaughter, Leatrice Joy, based her performance on a real female criminal, Madalynne Obenchain. Apparently Obenchain became famous for murdering her boyfriend J. Belton Kennedy, a sucessful stock broker, who she shot after he tried to "give her the slip." The story goes that at the age of twenty she left her husband of two years so that she could be with Kennedy. Unfortunately, once the divorce was finalized, Kennedy wanted nothing more to do with her. Madalynne took Kennedy for a "farewell" drive in her roadster and lured him out to her cabin where he was shot. Madalynne claimed that she heard shots fired and that two men "of foreign appearance" were seen driving away shortly after Kennedy fell. Eventually, Obenchain was charged with the crime but only after the case received extensive coverage in the national papers. Like many of the sensational criminal investigations at the time, the papers covered this crime with great zeal. The newspapers reported on various new clues as they were revealed, the unresolveable paradoxes, and the comings and goings of witnesses and suspects, creating narratives that read like detective dime novels.

I also suspect that other high-profile crime cases like the Fatty Arbuckle case and the murder of film producer William Desmond Taylor were having an impact on films like Manslaughter and Outside the Law. The Taylor case in particular inspired a heated debate about how to deal with the increase in "dope peddling" among Hollywood women. The reporters commenting on the Taylor case complained that Mabel Normand, one of Taylor's lovers and a known heroine user, was not being severly questioned by the police. Reporters claimed that her fame and her femininity caused officials to conduct her questioning like a "polite tea party" in which she told her "smiling alibi complaint of a severe cold, and let it go at that." These reports also discussed the increasing number of women who were becoming involved in the drug trade, suggesting their fame and their gender protected them from severe punishment.

Writing = Torture

Most of my day has been spent trying to paste together parts of a dissertation chapter into something I can present in 15 minutes at the Society for Cinema and Media Studies Conference. It's turning out to be a very painful process. I'm presenting a paper on a couple of silent films, Outside the Law and The Cheat, both of which depict women's criminal behavior. Too much to say, too little time. Then I also have to battle with the technology, tranfering the clips I have on DVD to a VHS cassette as that is the only viewing format the conference will support. Ugh. I guess I should get back to the writing. I'll save the technology struggle until tomorrow and focus on writing the paper draft. Wish me luck!

Boats, Beaches, and the San Francisco Bay

Here's Aviva looking windblown but lovely as we walk along the beach at Fisherman's Warf. We were both thrilled to be wandering around the city in tank tops. It's still going to be several months before we can do that in Rochester, which also means returning to upstate New York will be very depressing. Mind you, that's a given after spending two weeks in San Francisco. I actually followed what turned out to be ill-founded advice when packing for this trip. Everyone warned me that San Francisco can be quite cool this time of year. As a result, I packed light sweaters, jeans, and boots. So, when the temperature hit 80 degrees Fahrenheit, I headed over to Old Navy to buy inexpensive tank tops, long-sleeve t-shirts, and flip-flops. Next time, I'll follow the oh-so-wise Aviva and pack layers, lots of layers. Oh well. The packing mishap gave me an excuse to buy a few bright coloured tops that might make me look like a sign of spring even if there is still snow on the ground when I return to Rochester.

I suspect this boat is not sea worthy. Even so, I couldn't resist jumping into the little vessel as we walked past.

That's Coit Tower in the background. Eventually, we scaled telegraph hill and then went to the top of the tower. As you can see, it was a bright, beautiful day that afforded a great view of the city.


The view from Coit Tower

Also, once we got to the top of the tower and looked over to Lombard street, where we'd started our trek after descending from the Powell St. cable car, we realized we'd walked an insane distance. Suddenly, fatigue set in and we decided to take a bus home. Unfortunately, the bus never came, or we were just too impatient to wait long enough for it to arrive, and we ended up walking all the way back to our hotel.

After more than a week of touring, Aviva headed back to Rochester. I stayed in San Francisco for another week in order to attend a conference, The Conference on College Composition and Communication. I gave a paper part way through the conference and it seemed to go well. Composition theory is far from my area of expertise, unlike my other panel participants, but I still found it to be very productive. I particularly enjoyed two presenters who talked about how to help students find their own "voices" in writing while still helping them to develop the tools they'll need to be sucessful communicators. Their ideas were simple yet very thought-provoking. I thoroughly enjoyed the other panels I attended and I did my best to take in as many panels as possible. Unfortunately, a severe migraine put me out of commission for a few days. One conference down, one more to go.

Mendocino & Fort Bragg

Hello ocean. This is the beautiful view that one finds around the tiny shops of Fort Bragg, California.

Aviva and I sit and take in the view at a winery just north of Mendocino, the Pacific Star Winery. I think I could get used to a view like this one. Aviva has a theory that the landscape accounts for the fact that everyone calls California cows "Happy Cows." Who could blame them for being happy? They get to bask in the sun and watch the waves crash against the rocks while chewing their cud. Not a bad deal.

Here I contemplate whether to start drinking that wine right away. Nah. Maybe I better wait until after noon. We sampled a wide range of wines but ended up buying a relatively inexpensive 2000 Zinfandel. It was smooth, simple and lovely--perfect, we figured, for sitting on the beach, eating cheese and sandwiches. That's what we did for part of the evening until it started to get too dark and too cold, and the rock we perched our asses on started to get just plain too hard. Funny how rock seats tend to do that eventually.

Anyway, I totally recommend the Pacific Star Winery. They have the most spectacular views and pretty darned good wine too. One of their wines is named after the vintner's father, who approached us as we were getting back into the car.

He asked, "Did ya try Dad's Daily Red?"
We replied in unison: "Yes."
"What did you think," asked Dad.
"It was great. Fantastic," We replied, speaking over each other.
He smiled and explained, "That's my wine. That's my picture on the bottle."

I couldn't help but thinking he looked awful spry for 84 and I vowed to start drinking red wine on a daily basis. Perhaps one need look no further than the Pacific Star Winery for that fountain of youth! Too bad my graduate student budget might make daily glasses of red wine prohibitively expensive.

In this shot, I'm searching for the perfect piece of beach to have our little picnic. Though given that the sun is setting quickly and the mercury is falling fast, we'll have to eat and run.

What a spectacular sunset! The colours aren't fabricated either--that photo is almost as beautiful as the real thing!

We bought some yummy sandwiches and focaccia courtesy of this fancy organic grocery store. Those places are a dime a dozen in California, it seems. In this shot, you can also see the previously mentioned rock seats. By the time we finished eating, our butts were sore and sandy, though my pain had more to do with the fact that I'd just spent an hour horseback riding. In any case, next time we decide to eat on the beach we'll bring blankets.

Developing Some Horse Sense

Gotta befriend my horse before I ride her. Maybe that will convince Chiquita to be nice to me! I had to keep reminding myself not to let her see me sweat. I figure horses are like dogs and bears--they can smell fear a mile away.

Aviva riding nightcap, me following slowly behind. Chiquita tended to be a bit pokey and that was fine by me. I also discovered that she's afraid of birds. On both of my short rides, we encountered flocks of seagulls or plovers that took off and made lots of noise. Both situations caused Chiquita to "spook" a little and try to take off at a run. Luckily, I managed to get control of her quite quickly. Fairly minor incident but given my lack of horse sense, I still felt proud of myself for not hitting the panic button.

Here I am bravely riding Chiquita into the surf! I must admit I was a bit hesitant when Lari suggested it would make a great shot for me to ride into the water a bit. In the end, no horses or people were harmed in the taking of this photograph. And it does look pretty, doesn't it?

Here's another shot of Mendocino lovely beach and us atop our purty horses. The photo was taken by Lari, the owner of Ricochet Ridge Ranch. She's very big on taking photos and had use maneuvering our horses into various positions in order to ensure the best possible images. In this one she was trying to capture our reflections in the water. Mission accomplished!

This is Aviva's favorite horse, Fire. She road him all the time last summer and she was really hoping to ride him again. Unfortunately, he's lame and can't be ridden right now. With any luck he'll be strong and healthy when she returns. Aviva keeps talking about bringing Fire back to Rochester and plunking him in the back yard. I have to remind her that there are city ordinances prohibiting farm animals within the city limits.

The Golden Gate and Other San Francisco Landmarks

The famous Golden Gate Bridge. Aviva took this shot from the car as we drove to Mendocino in our rental car, a little red Mitsubishi Galant.


A good portion of the drive followed the twisty, slow-going, but beautiful Route One, which takes you through a small redwood forest. Eventually, you exit the woods and find yourself staring at the most amazing ocean views. Both perspectives are enough to knock one's proverbial socks off!


We stopped at the Japanese Tea Garden to drink a spot of tea and eat some rice crackers. The flowers were all in bloom and the colours were truly incredible. It seems as though the colour of choice for spring flowers is pink, which probably explains the plethora of pink to be found in clothing stores at this time of year. I have rediscovered the beauty of pink, a colour I used to respond to with scorn as a teenager and with screams and violent protestations as a child. When I went to visit my mother last summmer she was amazed to see me come off the plane wearing a bright pink t-shirt and carrying an equally bright pink purse. So, she decided to celebrate my change of heart by sending me the shirt I'm wearing in this photo as a birthday present. Who says tough chicks can't wear pink?


Some weird but beautiful flowers in the Botanical Gardens. I hae no idea what these flowers are called as I wasn't smart enough to write down their names. So, just enjoy their nameless beauty.


Same goes for these rather alien-inspired flowers. They look very trumpet-ish so I'm going to christen them flaming trumpet blossoms.


Here is Aviva posing in the Botanical Gardens. Notice how her hair blends in with the trees? Actually, the way she is posing in this shot reminds me of the photos that grace the pages of the New York Times Sunday wedding section. She just needs a handsome medical student standing next to her to complete the image along with a few lines about how they both graduated suma cum laude from Harvard and Yale, met while volunteering with doctors without borders in the Sudan, and have parents who own their own law firms and/or work in private practice in L.A. and New York. Wait a minute. Scratch that. Can I stand next to her insead?

My Blogger Return

It seems as though my attempt to return to blogging after a two-year hiatus has ended in tragedy. I just wrote a rather lengthy entry about my recent trip to San Francisco and when I attempted to spell check it, the whole entry was lost. Live and learn I guess. Next time I'll be sure to copy it before I proceed.

Anyway, I returned from San Francisco on Monday and it's taken me some time to readjust to Rochester. It's enough to know that there is still snow on the ground in Rochester and the temperature is hovering around 30 F. In contrast, in San Francisco I was walking around in flip flops and tank tops, sitting in parks writing postcards and working on my dissertation, growning new freckles and acquiring the tiniest bit of a tan, which has given my anemic flesh a slightly healthier looking glow. Wonderful weather aside, San Francisco was fantastic. I'd never visited the city before and so I hit all the usual tourist destinations: Golden Gate Park, the Botanical Garden, the Japanese Tea Garden, Fisherman's Warf, The Castro District, the Mission, Coit Tower and Telegraph Hill, Lombard Street, and several shopping districts on Union Square, Russian Hill, etc. I didn't visit Alkatraz, which everyone now tells me was incredibly stupid--particularly given that my research focuses on criminality. I had this stupid idea that it was 1.) too expensive, and 2.) not nearly as interesting as one might think. Well, my good friend Amy gave me a serious tongue lashing yesterday and I have now decided that I'll have to return to San Francisco to rectify the error. That's not a chore, really, as I'd love to go back sometime soon.

While we were in San Francisco, we stayed at this lovely little bed and breakfast called The Golden Gate Hotel on Bush St. just about a block from the Powell St. cable car stop. It was relatively inexpensive, neat as a pin, conveniently located, and it gave me a chance to meet other people who were attending the conference that motivated my visit to the city. In short, it was a fantastic place to stay and I'd highly recommend it to anyone else who might be visiting San Francisco.

I also went to Fort Bragg and Mendocino with Aviva. We rented a car and drove up to visit some of the people she worked with last summer at a horse ranch called Ricochet Ridge in Mendocino. I've never really done any horse back riding (a couple of stressful and short-lived encounters hardly count) but Aviva was very patient. She found me a nice, docile, slow-moving beast to ride, Chiquita, and made sure her horse, Night-cap, lead us at a very pokey pace. It turned out to be a lot of fun, though I'm sure Aviva would have enjoyed galloping or trotting much more. I'll post a few photos of our ride so everyone can see how ridiculous I look wearing my glamorous helment, which I suspect is really a snowboarding helmet.

Anyway, I'll keep this short for now as I need to go work on a paper I'm writing for another conference in London. I leave on Tuesday and have a million things to do between now and then: pack, write my paper, mark students' papers, work on my dissertation, etc. etc. Let's see if I can get even half of that done before the weekend comes to a quick close.