The Rant

February 1, 2003

Let's hear it for hanging-up the car keys, closing the curtains, lighting the fireplace, unplugging that cursed alarm clock, and staying in bed for as long as you want!! Being hunkered down at home for a few weeks has not been such a bad thing. Recently I was able to abandon the daily grind in favor of doing..well..nothing. Initially, when I was told I had holidays in the bank that had to be 'burned-off,' I thought it might be a waste of my hard-earned time to be stuck at home, for an extended period, in the middle of a Canadian winter. Why stuck at home you ask? The 'money pit' (called a house) that I live in was being renovated and I had to stay put. Thankfully, it was mostly an outside reno so my reveries were not totally disrupted.

In a way, for me, my decision to figuratively (..yes, and sometimes literally) pull the bedclothes over my head, was an act of rebellion. Yes. Rebellion. In the normal course of events I (like many of you) spend much of my time being concerned with deadlines, appointments, errands, various commitments, and everything else that maintaining a life entails these days. Not to mention, make-up! You women will appreciate this. Every working day I have to apply heavy television make-up to my face (twice) in order to at least resemble a normal human being when I'm on-air with CountryWide and Canada Now. There's the pink stuff that covers your five-o'clock-shadow. Then there's the tan colored that covers that, plus the rest of your face so you won't look like Grandpa from The Munsters. That's followed by the dusting powder to take away any shine. And finally, the rosey powder that gives your face a nice healthy glow!

I wish the stuff wasn't necessary, but, I'm afraid it is. That point was brought home to me in slightly less than diplomatic fashion recently. Because I hate it so much, I decided to experiment with putting on just enough powder (barely a smidgeon) to take the shine off my face. A shiney face, seems to be the greatest offence on television. Well, to use a much overused phrase, "then something went terribly wrong." I sensed I didn't look quite right when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a somewhat wan Karl on a studio monitor. As soon as I was off the air a quick check of my e-mail revealed a fresh message from a concerned viewer of CountryWide who wrote something like, "Your make-up person should be fired! You looked awful this morning, like some kind of china doll, all made-up! Very unnatural!". Ironically, that was the problem. I wasn't wearing enough of the damn stuff! And I couldn't fire the make-up person because that meant I'd have to fire myself! So, I have learned the hard way that...1-inch depth of make-up equals 'natural' on TV. From now on I think I'll leave the make-up experiments to my old friend Max Factor.

Anyway, my legislated 'stay-at-home' vacation seemed like the perfect time for me to rebel against the make-up police, the nose hair police, and all the other forces that make us conform to whatever code it is we're supposed to be conforming to and retreat to the relatively quiet confines of my house. Oh, I almost forgot, another reason for withdrawal - that little bit of business about a possible war. As if we didn't already have enough to worry about now we have to be hanging on every word George Dubya says. Will he or won't he? Well, that little voice inside my head was definitely saying, "Enough already! Gimme a break!"

So I stayed at home and did exactly what I wanted for a change, almost nothing. I didn't even bother to cook that much. I know many of you will find that amazing. But, you know, canned food is not that bad. Walmart had a special on canned pink salmon, seven cans per customer. I bought seven. Sometimes I ate it cold, right from the tin. In my cupboard I also had canned peanuts, canned fruit, raisins, and breakfast cereal. It was enough for several reasonably well balanced meals. And I washed it all down with plenty of tea and honey. Except, of course, I always managed to summon up the energy to make a nice cocktail before dinner. That's when those peanuts came in handy. After my impromptu meals I'd read or listen to music.

As time progressed I began to unwind (in a good way). My outlook brightened. My guilt at deliberately ignoring the clock went away. Some of my old energy came back. "Yes," I thought, "I'm doing the right thing." I'm not sure the workmen renovating my house thought that however. I was noticing, as the days passed, that a few of them were looking at me kind of funny. I brushed it aside, thinking it a symtom of the mild paranoia I experience from time to time. Then, one day, a knock came at the back door. It was Roger, the foreman, asking me a question about the ventilation system. But as he asked his question I saw what was obviously a look of worry, or at least, serious concern on his face as he stared at me. Later I looked in the mirror and realized the problem. In my rebelliousness I had abandoned my razor, my comb, my hair dressings, even my wardrobe. I had taken to wearing the same favorite track suit every day because it was comfortable. Don't get me wrong. I still bathed. I'm not that much of a rebel! But, to be honest, the person I saw looking back at me in my bathroom mirror bore a striking resemblance to the character Jack Nicholson played in The Shining. You know, that face that hacks its way through the door at the height of the mayhem; only mine was not so maniacal. I decided maybe I should get re-acquainted with my razor. Anyhow, I'd already been thinking about making a few forays outside so Roger's timing could not have been better.

One of my trips took me to the movies where I saw Martin Scorsese's latest, The Gangs of New York. Actually, some of the faces I saw in this movie reminded me of that face looking back at me in the mirror. It takes place in the latter part of the nineteenth century in a New York City that resembles the 'wild west' in many ways. Much of the action happens in an area of New York called the Five Points. It's where the lower orders live, where gangs based along ethnic lines flourish, and gang leaders (with corrupt police on their payroll) rule with threats, intimidation, and violence. And, naturally, various frictions, like religious bigotry, often erupt into bloody gang warfare. William 'The Butcher' Cutting (Daniel Day-Lewis) is the leader of the so-called native born Americans. They believe immigrants will be the ruination of the country, especially catholic immigrants, who they believe will only be loyal to the Pope. Early in the film, in one of the gang street battles, Cutting kills the leader of an Irish gang. His name is Priest Vallon. His young son, Amsterdam Vallon, witnesses the killing. He ends up in an orphanage for fifteen years or so and comes back to avenge his father's death. The avenging Vallon is played by Leonardo DiCaprio. The revenge theme gets carried through to the end of the movie.

The reason I'm ranting on about this movie is because I really liked it (although I warn you, it contains a lot of very graphic violence). It's the kind of movie you don't see much of these days, a 'big-canvas' Hollywood epic. The sets are big and impressive with a gritty realism. The costumes are perfect. And, above all, the acting is superb, especially the work of Day-Lewis. Daniel Day-Lewis has a delicious part as Bill 'The Butcher' and he plays it for all it's worth. One minute he's terrifying, sympathetic the next, then tender, then terrifying again. He's definitely an Oscar contender, as is DiCaprio and Jim Broadbent who plays the politician, Boss Tweed. I believe other Oscar contenders will include Scorsese (directing), Dante Ferreti (art direction), and Sandy Powell (costumes).

The only sour note at this movie (which had nothing to do with what was happening on the screen) came when a woman sitting directly behind me made a cell-phone call, not outside like most reasonable people, but in the theatre! Yes, she actually MADE a cell call in the middle of the movie. She didn't even bother to lower her voice. I think she was checking in with one of her kids because she was telling them what time she'd be home and so forth. Is it some kind of temporary insanity that makes people do things like that? I cannot tell you how badly I wanted to swing around and scream, "Lady! Are you NUTS!" But, I didn't. I just seethed for a moment and then was completely absorbed again in the wonderful movie.

Perhaps the cell-phone incident was meant to remind me to enjoy what was left of my self-imposed exile. Anyway, I did. I savoured every minute of it and came out ready to 'beard the lion'. I'm centered again. So, if the pressures are getting to you, become a hermit for a few weeks. I highly recommend it. Oh, and if you don't like canned salmon, try sardines!