Monday, September 29, 2008

Paul Newman, how I adore thee. . .

Confession time (ala Marti): I love Paul Newman. I have loved Paul Newman. I do love Paul Newman, and I will love Paul Newman (literary reference, though a non-Newman film). A few years ago, my Tivo was stuck with a single movie for months--The Long Hot Summer. After first viewing it, and subsequently, rewatching it that summer (and other, countless times), a girl never longed to be named Clara or be changed into a pillow more than I.

My first Newman movie was Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid because my dad liked westerns. I don't know if I was really blind or just silly, but for some reason, I thought Redford was the hottie in that one. I must have been drunk (side note: I have never been drunk, so probably not, but someone must have slipped me something).

A few years later, I saw Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and repented. (So sorry, Paul, I have no idea what I was thinking. My heart will always be yours. Bob, who? Also, you aged so much better!) Ahem. Sorry. The most gorgeous couple ever to grace the screen (seriously, Brad and Angelina, who?). She of the purple eyes. He of the piercing blue (and it is not just me who thinks so). I loved the emotions he could evoke, and how much I really just wanted to stare. Partially because below the surface, so much happened--even a blink expressed emotions.

Though I have seen many of his other films, none could compare to how I felt watching The Long, Hot Summer. Okay, even now I can't get enough. Watching him fall in love on screen and off was electric. You knew these two would be a powerhouse couple, and they were for 50 long years and countless projects together. In the few interviews they have done together, they seem constantly in love even 50 years after it all began. I think there is just something extremely sexy about a man who faithfully loves a woman. Gorgeous.

My mother called my sister to tell her to break the news to me gently, as I was going to be in mourning. B thought it was funny. I agreed with Mom, and have been sighing and searching for all the information available (see the end of the post if you don't believe me). He was a pretty extraordinary human being, and I am pleased I have been able to truly adore him for such a long time.

A few years ago, a good friend gifted me with a picture of the young Newman. I still have it. I have just been looking for a frame. I randomly also have a black and white print of one in my office (print as in, from the printer)--just for those days when you need to take a break with a good sigh (and to wish for a good snog). Today, I noticed it again--I had completely forgotten I had it.

Ah, Paul, seriously, I adore you, and I will miss you.

Just in case you have missed anything, here are posts from his daughters, foundation, racing partners and just other links that I have amassed:

Hollywood Mourns Newman's Death
28 September 2008 7:36 AM,
PDT

Hollywood stars Robert Redford, George Clooney and Julia Roberts have led the tributes to movie legend Paul Newman, who lost his battle with lung cancer on Friday.

News of the Oscar winner's death was confirmed by his spokesperson Marni Tomljanovic on Saturday, and the tributes have been flooding in ever since.

Redford, who starred with Newman in 1969's Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, was one of the first celebrities to comment on the 83 year old's passing.

In a statement issued on Saturday, the Spy Game actor said: "There is a point where feelings go beyond words. I have lost a real friend. My life - and this country - is better for his being in it."

Clooney hailed the late Cool Hand Luke star as "the best" in the business, saying, "He set the bar too high for the rest of us", while his Ocean's Eleven co-star Roberts adds, "He was my hero, he was a total inspiration."

Newman, who died at his home in Westport, Connecticut, had reportedly been given only weeks to live after completing chemotherapy treatment at a New York hospital in August.

He was nominated for 10 Oscars in his five-decade-long career, winning the best actor accolade for his role opposite Tom Cruise in The Color Of Money in 1986.

He also won two Golden Globe awards, a Screen Actors Guild award, a Cannes Film Festival award and an Emmy award.

In 2007, he announced his retirement, admitting he was too old to continue his work in Hollywood.

But his legacy will be remembered for years to come, claims actor/director Kevin Spacey.

He says, "An era just ended. Paul Newman was a great humble giant. He said it was all down to luck, but the rest of us know it was his talent, wit and generous heart that made him the star he was.

"He should be an example to the acting profession because he seemed to
have had his ego surgically removed."

Newman was also famed for his charity work. Following the death of his only son Scott from an accidental drug overdose in 1978, the star set up the Scott Newman Center for drug abuse prevention.

He was also the founder of food company Newman's Own, from which Newman donated all profits and royalties to charity.

And filmmaker Sam Mendes, who directed Newman in Road To Perdition in 2002, has credited the star for his philanthropy: "Working with him on Road to Perdition was the highlight of my professional life. To say he was an extraordinary man would be an understatement. It seems to me one of the great 20th century lives, a shining example of how to use global fame for the greater good."

Newman is survived by his wife - actress Joanne Woodward - and their three daughters, Elinor, Melissa and Claire. He also has two daughters, Susan and Stephanie, from his first marriage to Jackie Witte.
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Newman's Daughter: 'Fans Should Support Each Other'
29 September
2008 5:15 AM, PDT

Latest: Hollywood legend Paul Newman's family has urged film fans to honour the Cool Hand Luke star - by doing a good turn for a friend.

The actor was almost as famous for his generous nature as for his roles in Oscar-winning classics Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Sting.

And, following his death on Friday, Newman's family wants the world to pay tribute to the star by doing something philanthropic.

His daughter Melissa says, "I guess what I really wanted to say was that anybody who wants to honour the memory of my father should know that he was all about doing things for other people.

"And if anyone's interested in honouring his memory, you could bring a bowl of soup to a friend or you could be philanthropic in some way, and just, you know, look out for each other."
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Catching up on life. . . Or, limited brainspace, sorry.

Life has been a little crazy of late and is set to be even more crazy until the end of August, but it was killing me that I hadn't blogged in forever. So, here is what has kept my brain a little full (this first section was written on 7/13):

  • June 14th: The Komen Race for the cure (5k). My original goal was $100. Due to the generosity of my family, friends, and coworkers, I raised $325. Britt, who also participated, raised $95 (It was nearly $100, and for a ulcer-stricken moment it was $595). Sunni, Marti, Melinda, Jen Jackson and many others joined us. . . I walked it--so not a runner. I also got some kind of nasty pollen in my eye, and my eye swelled shut the next day. Only I could go to a race and have my eye swell. I am extremely talented.
  • June 20-23rd: B's Birthday Weekend Extravaganza. Somehow, I kept the big surprise a secret, though I had to tell a white lie to do it. B cleaned her room late into the night Thursday because a little birdie told her that some people were going to come decorate her room. Friday, her 23rd birthday loomed, and she hated me for her lack of sleep. Later that evening, decorating for our big to-do, my dear, sweet sister and I, with a huge cart of plants at home depot, ran into her surprise! And boy was it (check out K's facebook photos). Our indoor garden party, with shades of jazz and F. Scott Fitzgerald, was a success (I loved the tiny plastic "shot glasses" we found for the various mocktails I mixed). B also loved her weekend with K, her sister-designer and best friend (really, she took a quiz to prove it--how Brad tied with her, I'll never know). Yay for K! And for sisters who cry and jump up and down in the middle of Home Depot!
  • June 27-28: The Ruch Sisters (and the younger North Carolina Luke Sister) enjoyed the Biltmore in Asheville for the first time. We were tired and a little wet by the end, but it was very fun. I don't think I will ever forget running through the rain to the greenhouse down the center of the gardens. If people have lived in the Wal-mart and in the Harvard Library, maybe I can find a way to surreptitiously live in the Biltmore. It was opulent and gorgeous. Also, the road trip was delightful. Although, Miss Jen may have thought the Sisters Ruch were crazy by the end.
  • July 4th: Rainy and lovely. Cook outs and High School Musical. Fun, though odd evening. Sadly, no patriotic songs made Brittany cry this year, and that made me sad.
  • July 9-10th: Consultants in at Work, killer work week, grew to love Foster's Market for their ease in catering and their mouth-watering BLT Chicken Caesar wrap. Mmm-mmm
  • July 17th: First Annual Development Associates Retreat. T's baby. Again, exhaustion at the end of the week. But success!!! Yay!
  • July 24-25th: Development Officer Retreat. Lots of interesting information and fun social settings. Next year, if it is held there (cross your fingers), I'm going early for the spa. Check it out! We had gorgeous views and a gigantic flat-screen. Diane and I had fun being roomies.
  • July 30-31st: Development Orientation. Kill me now.
  • August 5-8th: More consultants, crazy, busy, lovely stuff. Thank goodness, again, for Foster's! Also, the fact that I didn't have to provide name tags. And the fact that the consultant who worked with me on all the planning had a lovely British accent (that can make up for a lot of things. . .). Though, please, if someone asks you for an RSVP, please RSVP! Grr. . . Also, ED was on vacation, so with the boss away, it was supposed to be a slow week! Not so much.
  • August 8-18th: the littlest Ruch came for a visit. We had zany, wacky fun, and I am not sure if Sean did much besides catch up on sleep and think that we have parties all the time. Hello--it was the season finale of So You Think You Can Dance (known from now on in this blog as SYTYCD--Joshua won. I am okay with that, I am a little upset that Chelsie and Mark were not in the finale as competitors. Sigh. . . and growl. Sorry, tangent done)! Sean had cooking lessons, party planning lessons, laundry lessons, TV etiquette lessons, and a speeding ticket. Poor thing. . . Oh, and an odd Puppet Show which was actually pretty awesome. Thanks, ED!
  • August 22-23rd: I chopped off 4 inches of my hair, and dyed it red. ED thinks I look like the best redhead who wasn't born a redhead. I will admit I do look cute. I am working on getting a picture up.
  • August 24th: Introduction Sunday. I brought treats (healthy!). I am forever loved due to my Mom-ness. Well, at least by those sitting in my row. Also, one Elder will never forget the sight of craisins coming for his head. Poor thing.
  • August 26th: Chinese and Brideshead Revisited. Though lushly shot, they didn't utilize their cast as they could have. I think that this one would have been better as a mini-series (which it technically was first). I believe though, that Abby won the Matthew Goode is my boyfriend contest. I just want to go to Venice now. Anyone know of any job postings there?
  • August 29th: Shopping Spree with ED! So fun! Lots of cute new clothes. I needed them a lot! Okay, maybe I can't leave my job yet.
  • August 29th-September 1st: Needed a break. Watched Austen movies and was ill all weekend. I couldn't shake the posh Austen accent for days. Poor B. I kind of broke it at April's birthday party! Weird to think that a year ago we had been partying it up for a week in Florida. Crazy.
  • September 6th: April's Belated Birthday with Crumpets, Blueberry Lemonade, the Sisters Millett, Dixie, Jen, Ruth, the Sisters Ruch, and North and South. Though Ruth and I have had our fights, Richard Armitage gets to be mine (well, at least as John Thornton--she can have him as Guy of Gisborne--I learned to share in Primary)! Lovely.
  • My social calendar and brain went on Hiatus for most of September due to extreme exhaustion and a sinus infection. B and I were both down for the count. We even administered a lovely, narcotic-filled cough syrup to each other. It was the only reason we slept for days. I only had room for Burn Notice and Buffy (with Melinda).
  • September 18th: the return of the boys. . . How I love them. Mostly Dean.
  • September 19-21st: Kimberly Comes to Visit! T learns to cook without wheat, and Jen Jackson finally finds out what it is to be a Southern Woman (and the tragic tale of diabetes mixed with blush and bashful).
  • September 22nd: Marked the season premier of one of my appointment shows (and I fed the missionaries) and the beginning of my TiVo being extraordinarily full while I am crazy busy.
  • B finished the Lake House for the Italians this past week, and also today. Stunning, gorgeous, and functional (when she updates the pictures--probably Friday--I'll link to them).
  • Things I can't remember the date of: good-bye parties to beloved friends (Sunni, Meg, Suzanne--sob!); strawberry picking, jamming, and breadmaking; and a Chapel Hill Public Library book sale in there somewhere that I missed (but it was more for B, and kind-of odd because we were buying books for their covers--shudder). Oh, and hyperactive Olympic watching--though synchronized swimmers are enthralling. Also, go Men's Volleyball (ah, Sophomore year of college)!
  • Oh, and one more thing, an adorable Charlotte Lily entered the world.

And now you are up to date. . . T's summer in a nutshell. Those of you wanting to catch up should now know wayyy more than you ever wanted to know about my summer. Loves!

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Sunday, September 28, 2008

A quick apology. . .

So, the idea of this blog became a little overwhelming after I became WAY too existential about the existance of blogs in general and the purpose for writing about oneself. I promise to write again soon with a quick update of what happened this summer--and a moment of silence for a lovely friend and possible lover--if I had been born at the right time (sigh. . . ).
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Wednesday, May 21, 2008

The curse of the first born. . .

So, two weeks ago I started this post. It was going to be high-minded, semi-whiny piece on being the first born which started writing itself in my head after I read this article on the firstborn having it tough (when I saw the article, "Duh!" was the only thing that came to mind). I am not going to lie, I agree. There are things my younger siblings got away with that my mother would have killed me for. Also, I feel like I had to work a lot more—around the house, at the family business, whatever.

I think it also set me on a sleep-deprived quest for Perfection—or whatever I thought it was supposed to be. Sadly, that quest ended in tears and suicide attempts and hatred of oneself, which lead, thankfully, to self-awakening, self-love, and forgiveness (and B's massive embarrassment at my being uniquely myself pretty much all the time). In this post, the blogger kind of describes how I felt in trying to achieve "greatness," but feeling like a failure time and again because of that elusive end goal. Many times, I wanted to unplug and run free. Then someone else was chosen to run free, and it hurt that it wasn't me. Down the road, it is bittersweet when birthdays pass by (Happy Birthday, Nate).

But being the eldest (not quite, but long story) has had it's perks, which is something I have realized from the last couple of posts by the Mormon Foodie. I have a few more pictures than the younger Roos. I was read to a lot more. I sang with Mom in the car (there weren't cars with TVs with VCR/DVDs back then) which maybe lead me to be a better singer. Mom had a little more time to play with my hair (a practice which still is the easiest way to relax me). And I learned to cook and love it—okay, to love food in general.

Maybe it was just making the mac & cheese (with hot dogs!) that a few babysitters thought was our only food source. Maybe it was inventing bologna boats with Nathan, and realizing if you used the right plate, the bologna (for 30 seconds - 1 minute in the microwave) would curl up into a bowl shape, perfect for cradling hot melted cheese. Or adding the bread underneath to soak up all the grease (I know—ew, but oh so good). Maybe it was Thursday nights having pancakes and eggs, our plates set on towels in front of the TV while Dad was at High Council (back then, having food in the family room was usually verboten). Or making fried jelly sandwiches in a cast iron skillet over a campfire at girls camp.

I envied Nate his hand for inventing perfect variations of quesedillas. I perfected an alfredo sauce that is still creamy and good cold from the fridge the next day. My spinach gnocchi is divine. Also, I am kind of proud of my "Chips!" especially after my version of the recipe was emailed out to an entire Brazilian family, informing them they have made chocolate chip cookies wrong their entire lives (not by me). I may have rubbed my love of food into my hair with my first spaghettios (one of my first solid foods).

As the youngest of our clan graduates at the end of next week, it is interesting to ponder the difference our birth order has made in our lives. I am kind of glad to be first, though I will agree with the msn article at the beginning, we firstborns did have it more rough, but it has made me tougher and more me. And who wouldn't want to be that?!?

See, much less whiny than the original post was going to be; also, anything that talks about food is pretty awesome!
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Monday, May 19, 2008

Starting your own bluegrass band. . .

Tuesday, May 13, 9ish pm, American Idol Randomness in the background, Lounging on the couch—brain cells switched to the off position.

"So, um, are you going to that Battle of the Bands thing?"
"The one on Saturday?”
“Yep.”
“Probably not. I wanted to get a band together, but. . . meh.”
“We totally should.”
“Right.”
“Oh, come on. I’ll bring my violin over on Thursday and we’ll work something out.”
“I think you overestimate my guitar skills—it has been a long time.”

Thursday, May 15th, 5:30ish, driving home from a long day at work. . .

“Hey, you don’t happen to want to give me guitar lessons so I can play on Saturday do you?” Please say no; Please say no. . .
“Sure. You would have to pick me up.”
“Um. . . I’ll see you in 10 minutes?”

Same day, 9ish

“I can’t really practice. They are going to call me into surgery shortly.”
“Saving a life is much more important. We so do not have to do this.”
“We are doing this.”

Friday, May 16th, 6ish

“I’m coming over.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“We are so doing this.”
“How was surgery?”

Saturday, May 17th, 11:30 pm

“Not quite sure how we did that.”
“I know!”
“I am kind of sad we didn’t get to play our third song.”

And so, Chicks with Strings was born. . . and have now changed their name to Suz Y Roos. Welcome to my crazy life.
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Thursday, May 8, 2008

Around the web in considerably less than 80 posts

Some of the fun blogs (blogosphere and bloggernacle) I have been perusing in the last couple days include:
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Wednesday, May 7, 2008

This May sweep you off your feet...

May sweeps is a time when advertisers look at ratings to decide where to advertise, and networks get to use those ratings to set advertising prices. In order to bolster their ratings, networks usually perform some kind of stunt (i.e. CSI and Two-and-a-half Men’s writers, neither of which I watch, switched places). This year, most people are happy just to have scripted shows back.
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Side note: I followed the strike like the crazy TV junkie that I am. United Hollywood was my daily first stop. I was reading articles from both sides; but the studio honchos came off smug and money-hungry, while the writers came off as working people who were only asking for a fraction of what the studios already received. I had an ulterior motive, though—someday I want to be a screenwriter. In fact it is on my list of things to do in my next decade which will actually show up on my blog sometime around my birthday. I am giving myself six months to decide what I want to do with my next ten years.
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As a self-proclaimed (diagnosed?) TV addict, it has surprised me that I have not been as excited by TV this spring. Sure, scripted shows are back, and I love The Office, Ugly Betty, Supernatural, Bones, Aliens in America (so sad it is going to be canceled), and the “fantastic” Doctor Who (Sorry, I am still working on catching up with Battlestar). I am looking forward to the return of Burn Notice, My Boys, Psych, and So You Think You Can Dance, but my heart longs for September when we finally get another Heroes, Chuck, and especially Pushing Daisies. Maybe the writers are having a slump. There are some good moments, but a lot of it is very “meh.”

Good TV is like the best books, it makes you delve into another world full of truth, pain, change, and good friends (I know, you think this is sounding a little familiar—I am addicted to good writing, sue me. That post is coming soon.). Literature has always been incredibly important to me—it can help shape the way we experience the world, experience it with us, or remind us that others have gone through it, too. TV has become like good literature. There are themes, mythologies, social commentary, and truth being packaged in with gorgeously sculpted characters—even wise-cracking, spunky, blond PIs—that I haven’t fully felt from many books in a while. Many of the books that have come out recently do not excite me like some of the TV I have been watching (which, just a few years ago, I personally would have taken as heresy). This is not to say that they are all succulently written, but like books, there is a spectrum, and a good portion of them are lovely.

The face of television is going to change in the next few years, and that may excite me more than anything else. Pilot season was ruined this year, and no one knows what will happen going forward—even the Upfronts are changing—but I think many sly, social commentators and brilliant, literary geniuses will, hopefully, create art in the realm of television. If we can keep the rising tide of reality drivel out of it (there is some place for a little reality—I adore Project Runway) and stop the cancellation of some very promising shows; we will discover some amazing pieces when all is said and done. We are experiencing something like the birth of the novel—a golden age of writing come to life. Enjoy May sweeps 2008, you may find inspiration where you least expect it.
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