Wednesday, November 25, 2009

videos from story slam NOV 23

Thanks to Bill Thompson and the amazing Doria Hughes we have a whole set of videos at massmouth or

She wrote: "Between contestants at massmouth's second Story Slam, Norah Dooley - ably assisted by co-host Jess Sutich - slipped in this rather shocking short story of one d-eel-icious meel that she sadly missed out on."

Find more videos like this on MASSMOUTH The Power of Story

From Rick F. a long time friend and the man with all the good stories. The story above was his. I hope he will come one night and tell one. He delivers all the exquisite details and has a fine appreciation of irony and theater of the absurd.

"Ah yes, I remember it well. So glad that it struck you and will now provide amusement for others. You may want to include the unpleasant moments that followed: each horrible "Oscar Mayer eel slice" was drizzled with a piquant sauce before being placed in front
of each diner. Then the hosts eagerly watched each of our faces, expecting smiles and sounds of lip-smacking relish.

Instead, they saw each of us turn green, gray, etc. as we shuddered, apologized, bowed, begging their understanding that we. just. couldn't. eat. it.

We then watched as their faces reddened and scowls appeared. They began to resemble the angry, demonic temple guardian statues we had seen everywhere. They grunted, hissed, exchanged knowing scowls at each other. "These thankless gaijin just didn't appreciate the honor of being served such a delicacy!"

This just in: Also from my dear friend Rick:
Did I tell you the other Japanese dining horror?

The restaurant where they set a heated, flat stone in front of you, along with a platter of sheep's ovaries and other assorted guts?

"You drop them on the hot stone, they sizzle, inflate and burst, then you dip the wretched things in shoyu and chow down (or in our group's case, DON'T chow down) and yes, followed by glaring demon faces and grunts from the Japanese hosts who belabor how expensive, how delicious the goodies you are leaving on your plate are. "

Mr. Sensei's eating habits are looking more and more conservative.

Enforced Day of Silence

I takes a lot to shut me up. But laryngitis hits me about once a year and it is usually severe enough to make silence a done deal. In fact, this is the exact year to date from the last time. I remember "talking" with the director of the school where I was incarcerat--- working last year,on the WED before T-Day. I was asking about room use and sounding, even to myself, quite outta-me-mind. I "explained" that I was just trying to vocalize thru the frozen chords but I bet this made me even scarier. *sigh* I did not get the room for which I was advocating and pleading. But that is a longer story.

Doctors say that complete aphonia—loss of the ability to speak—is extremely rare. When it does happen, it often is the result of emotional or psychological stress.
I am feeling pretty unstressed and in a weird way, thinking not speaking for a day will be restful and good for me. Especially if I can get all the voices in my head to take the day off too.

So, I am thinking of all things I am thankful for and, as I am sure my family would echo, if I spoke it, being thankful for this silence too.

A vow of silence

Key to bliss may be as simple as turning off your car radio

In a stressed-out world filled with 24/7 bad news, author Anne D. LeClaire has discovered the key to calm and bliss.

On the first and third Mondays of each month, she practices silence. No talking to her husband, her publisher or her two grown children, no chatting with the occasional houseguest, the repairman or neighbors. No one.

“On silent days, I try to have nothing on the calendar,” LeClaire explains from her home in Cape Cod, Mass. “Sometimes I’ll be traveling for a book tour, but the silence is still with me. I can’t be complaining and grumbling if a flight’s delayed, I don’t get involved in all the hassle.”

The result: “The days are peaceful, and I release all my stress.”

LeClaire began her silent Mondays 16 years ago after walking on the beach to contemplate her sadness about a friend’s mother dying. The former reporter and radio broadcaster wasn’t particularly religious and wasn’t the quiet type. But she heard the words, “Sit in silence” in her head. The decidedly unflaky LeClaire announced to her husband she’d spend the next day not talking.

Since then, she has eliminated e-mail, radio and television from her silent days, though she’ll sit at the computer and work on novels.

“My single determination when I began was to not speak,” says LeClaire, whose ninth book, “Listening Below the Noise” (Harper, $19.99), documents her experience with quiet. “But the more comfortable I became with silence, the more I thirsted for it, and the sounds I’d accepted unquestionably became noise.” Full article, click here.