Z-o-o-o-m

Like air leaving a tire, we are ZOOM tired. Hence the article in today’s Wall Street Journal titled Zoom Fatigue is Real.

Real-LY?!

Last week I merely hated Zoom. No biggie.

This week I took to thumbing my nose (albeit masked) AT Zoom.

Blah blah blabbity blah blah F U ZOOM and your wretched audio and your “capital D” for dumb-bell idea of the doorbell sound effect upon “joining” a meeting.

As Zoom-ers, we await our host’s allowance to “start” the meeting and give us entry, we rehearse our presentations, go over our notes, guard our ear drums for the inevitable and often painful audio feedback, and, oh yeah, SWEAT, until we’re let in and THEN the friggin’ doorbell rings!

What IS this?! “Avon calling”? (remember THOSE days?)

Company?!

Every time I hear that dang doorbell, it gives me a sense memory of Entenmann’s coffee cake and a relative I haven’t seen in a while. One day recently, my “hub” ran down the stairs as I “joined” someone in to a meeting I was hosting thinking it was our doorbell.

Really Zoom..? You couldn’t find another sample sound in the universe of sound effects?

Blah blah blabbity blah blah and by Wednesday of this week, somehow this t-shirt from Kohl’s just felt right.

Zooommm this…you guess the gesture.

Objectified

BlahBlahBlah2

above photo: note — NOT on Zoom

 

C’mon and ZOOM

ZoomC’mon and ZOOM C’mon and ZOOM ZOOM C’mon and ZOOMA ZOOMA ZOOMA ZOOM We’re gonna show you just why

Zoom Outro 1972We’re gonna teach you to flyC’mon and ZOOM!

Oh my…some of the most riveting 70’s theme song lyrics ever written. Hey, they worked on this girl, a loyal pre-teen (that’s what we used to call “tweens”) ZOOM viewer. Plus, I dressed like the cast purely by accident, or a lack of parental wardrobe intervention (hint: the latter) so there was ALOT to relate to! Remember the episode where the two boys caught a fish, baked it in clay, and ate it?! Now THAT’s some TV for kids! YUM! Giardia anyone?

Zoom PBS 70's Album Cover with Record

The ZOOM cast cut records! On the A&M label!! THAT’s Herb Alpert’s label!!! Holy Zoom! Who the zoom inked THAT deal?!

WHOMever thought, today, amid a pandemic, ALL business, teaching, and learning would be conducted via a marginal-at-best video conferencing platform also named ZOOM?! Whom do YOU ZOOM? Everyone. Why? Because I have to.

I’m ZOOM’ed OUT.

The audio hurts my ears and the Mute/Unmute is a pain in the a*^ (Oops! I’m UN-MUTED! DAMN! OOPS! SORRY!)

My favorite ZOOM-in-the-COVID19 TIME refrains are: 

“I’m gonna try to share my screen now…”

“Can everybody see that…?”

“You’re muted.”

“Ah, technology…” (a philosophical rationale mantra usually said with an audible sigh which everyone in the meeting hears).

Don’t get me wrong, I love my colleagues, students, and professors but…  

I hate ZOOM.

The ONLY ZOOM I will EVER love is on PBS via WGBH-Boston (but props to WNBC’s SNL AT HOME pandemic live broadcasts).

CAM ZOOM LinkedIn

UNSTOPPABLE…?

Where did I turn for my animated gif self-portrait…?

CAM gif MaybellineHouse Fashion Week Sept. 9 2018

#NYFASHIONWEEK and #MaybellineHouse of course!

On Sunday, Sept. 9, I had one of the most selfie-centric experiences known to civilization.

On the Lower East Side of Manhattan, during New York’s Fashion Week, I found myself in the imagined-yet-real, elusive-yet-tangible, mysterious, nomadic and fantasmagoric world of FashionistaLand. Though it changes in “look” and location (and then poof! vaporizes) twice per year (à la George Costanza’s “promised land” Meat District model-hangout-that-vanished Seinfeld episode) THIS go-round I rode the dragon straight in to “belly of the beast”, that being, a NY Fashion Week event fashioned for and tailored to (ALL puns intended) contemporary culture’s narcissistic selfie-obsession in a hashtagged, branded venue. Scary!

#maybellinehouse Neon Sign Sept 10, 2018

On a superficial level, this experience did not disappoint.

Thanks to the many props provided at the venue, ranging from the giant complexion-friendly pastel-colored blocks to frolic on, MANY lights and mirrors (though no smoke, darn) to a “diva fan” (yep!) and selfie gif station (uh-huh!) I came away with many images

Carolyn at MH FW Edit Sept 10 2018

AND a handy tote bag that I designed in collab with a hipster-for-hire from a selection of Maybelline slogans. I chose “UNSTOPPABLE” over “WILL WORK FOR LIPSTICK”. Hmmm… I wonder why in these #MeToo Time’s Up times?! Not to worry, there was “BOSS LADY” also, which my friend chose (and made me lol because she’s the sweetest woman in the world, but a strong boss lady, too.)

The most intriguing aspect of the tote swag to me, however, was neither it nor the merch to fill it with, though it’s quite fun and generous of any brand to give stuff away, but rather the Hand Jet EBS 260 printer that magically printed my unstoppable slogan amid an array of hearts on my bag. WOOHOOO!!! SWEET! I wish they’d been handing out one of THOSE to stash in my tote!

CAM MaybellineHouse Fashion Week Unstoppable Swag 2 Sept. 9 2018 (2)

 

 

CAM MaybellineHouse Fashion Week Sept. 9 2018

You wouldn’t necessarily perceive it from the above photos, BUT after a few hours (and a few hundred selfies later) my group and I were tired of focusing on ourselves. We were tired of hearing the black Maybelline t-shirt clad event staffers reminding us to “use the hashtag!” We were happy to think of heading uptown and sitting down to a long, late lunch/early dinner and our tickets to a Broadway show that same night (Sunday funday!)

Enough selfies, group selfies and selfie gifs.

That is, for now…

CAM gif MaybellineHouse Fashion Week Sept. 9 2018

…UNSTOPPABLE!

 

A Diet + The Waves

In the past week, I had the pleasure of seeing two quite divergent theatrical productions: My Life on a Diet, Renée Taylor’s one-woman show, and The Waves, adapted from Virginia Woolf’s novel as a chamber musical for the Powerhouse Theater at Vassar College.

Renée Taylor (aka Sylvia Fine of The Nanny sitcom) and her autobiographical romp (co-written with her husband, the late, great Joe Bologna) are comic gold, a delicious summer time treat (all pun). A stellar career trajectory as told through the many diets RT has attempted in a constant struggle to be thin for show biz, makes for a good dramatic device and a very fun time. The anecdotes from her family life, the roster of diets and the performers she’s met and worked with that emerge along the way are all gems in their own right. The audience, as guests in her leopard bedecked stage set, was roaring. If you’re reading this and you don’t know who Hedy Lamarr or Rita Hayworth or Elaine May were/are, go see this show asap. If you’re reading this and you do know who they were/are, go see this show asap.

I attended through a NOIAW special event, which included a Meet/Greet + dinner with Ms. Taylor, a very generous gesture on her part. I stopped by the restaurant and she couldn’t have been lovelier, which comes through in our photo together.

The Waves could not have been a more different kind of theatrical excursion. A cast of six accomplished and electrifying actors portray six siblings over the course of many years and rites of passage (boarding school, college – that is, Cambridge). The music, musical direction and the pianist are quite extraordinary. I felt the music and the actors’ phenomenal vocal delivery washing over me, literally, as waves. In the score, I heard hints of phrases from Les Misérables and reminiscences of the masterful, constant jazz piano background music of Mister Roger’s Neighborhood. I truly liked the less-is-more use of projection — a simple beach/water horizon which illuminated and changed color and form very subtly, but absolutely created the work’s title in setting and ambiance.

The Waves Cast Powerhouse Theater at Vassar College July 2018 (640x427)

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MLOAD and The Waves were apropos to see in summer, I highly recommend them both.

Carolyn with Rene'e Taylor of My Life on a Diet post-show at NOIAW dinner July 19, 2018

CAM Influencer 1 (800x691)

photos in order of appearance by Powerhouse Theater at Vassar College; A. McDonough

The Third Act

I recently had the great, fun pleasure of attending The Third Act Series film screening at the Manhattan Film Festival and pre-screening cocktails, accompanied by a fun friend of mine. I initially met leading ladies Jody Atkinson and Susan Stava at the Cornell Entrepreneurial Network NYC’s “Business of Blogging” event and then reached out to them via The Third Act because something about their take on life got my funny bone.

Carolyn_Jody_ Susan_Third_Act_ Series_Screening_MFF_April_2018Carolyn, Jody and Susan at The Third Act Series screening/Manhattan Film Festival–photo by Ann Neilsen

Just as the dual protagonists of webisodes by the same name, Jody and Susan are as much a delight in person as they are to watch on screen in their very clever web series, and now also on the big screen. When my friend Ann saw Susan at the pre-screening and said to her that we were there to see their film, Susan bear hugged her without hesitation. Same from Jody when she came over to the bar where we were seated.

Carolyn_Ann_The_Third_Act_Screening_MFF_April_22_2018Carolyn and Ann at the screening–photo by random passer-by who Ann asked (true story).

The Third Act’s self-deprecating humor is a breath of fresh air in the current cultural climate of narcissistic, filtered, SnapChat-ty social media. It reminds me of the great columnist/writer Erma Bombeck and though Erma’s brand of humor would be wildly out of step with the current times, humor is humor to me. Maybe I’m an easy laugh, but I’m amused when I see a promo photo of Jody with her feet up on a huge desk, smoking a stogie with the thought bubble above her head, “The laundry’s done, the kids are in college…now what?” And I love how they ponder such modern brain teasers as “why do tits have to be sexualized?” Alas, the answer to this rhetorical musing is a HUGE one (all pun…? Oh no! I’m sexualizing the question!) with its roots in ancient art works such as the Hellenistic Aphrodite, the stuff of which doctoral dissertations are made (for more on such academic exploration, please watch the incredible new PBS series Civilizations particularly the How Do We Look? episode).

We also enjoyed the screening of an indie film Everyone You Hate is Here directed by Madeline Nehlen about the clique-y reality of beach clubs. Unbeknownst to us, Ann was sitting right next to the film’s lead actor, which delighted me having heard this person giggling at mostly everything in both The Third Act Series and her film, throughout the screenings.Everyone

Here’s a moment from the Q&A during which Jody, Susan and The Third Act Series Director, Michele Midori Fillion, are responding to a “future plans” inquiry:

I hope The Third Act Series gives women license to breathe when we have phases in our lives that take the stuffing out of us, and require all of our faculties just to endure, especially when we look in the mirror after-the-fact and find ourselves saying, “Mirror mirror on the wall, bye-bye yoga arms, hello bingo arms”.

Hats off (yes, as in Melania’s white Hervé-Pierre number) to the Manhattan Film Festival for a great billing (the new Tara Reid film Worthless about bullying sounds intriguing, so I might go back).

In the interim, BIG CONGRATS TO JODY & SUSAN AND CONTINUED SUCCESS WITH FUTURE SCREENINGS + SEASON 2!

TransferJ3_MFF_The_Third_Act_April_22_2018 004

 

Italian “Bred”

CarolynWith CandiceGuardino

I had the great pleasure of seeing the one-woman showcase Italian Bred by Candice Guardino recently and meeting her afterward.  Amusing cameos by people “in the biz” such as comedian Mario Cantone who pop in to Candice’s various vignettes, made for some funny stuff. My favorite through line in the show, however, is Candice’s running impersonation of her family members, especially her grandmother, who was moxy personified, as only women of her time and place were and could be.

I had a similarly strong “force” of a grandmother on my paternal side, who was a pioneer indie retailer of the hot item of the 1950’s: appliances. Panasonic and Zenith were the brands that lined the walls of her store, and General Electric featured my Nonna, Lena, in their promotional materials to their sales force. She was quite cute and personified not only the moxy of the roaring 20’s generation women, but also ideal look of her era: five foot two, eyes of blue. Yep! She was a well-off retailer who designed, built and paid for her own home in cash, and a stage mother to my father to rival the likes of Gypsy Rose Lee.

She would commute in to the City with my father when he was just three years old (and BEFORE the NJ Turnpike was even built!) for his voice lessons at the Royal Associated Studios on 52nd Street and his weekly radio appearances on NBC Radio Children’s Hour with emcee Ed Herlihy, sponsored by the great but gone Horn & Hardart automat.

I don’t want to give anything away about Italian Bred so in the meantime, I’ll share an anecdote about Italian mothers. Recently, I was having lunch with mine at Cafe123 before seeing Farinelli and the King (for the second time!) We were never weight obsessed being naturally thin with fast metabolisms and we always ate well, so were talking about nutrition, etc., over our crêpes. I remarked that I didn’t think I was eating very well lately due to a hectic schedule and that maybe I was eating too much fat in my meals. I continued that maybe I should scale back on fats a little, to which my mother leaned over the table and asked me in a hushed tone, “But you’re not going to give up olive oil, right?!” As if it’s a sin! Well, to Italians, Greeks, Spaniards and probably many more Mediterranean cultures, it probably is! My reply was of course, “No, of course not, Mom!” to which she sighed a breath of relief and proceeded to further enjoy her crêpe.

And that’s my “Italian Bred” in a nutshell! (all pun because Italians—at least my Italians–are nuts for nuts, also–there was a perennially full nut bowl on our teakwood table my entire childhood, like something out of Harry Potter–but that’s a WHOLE other story for another day!)

ItalianBred (2)

GO SEE ITALIAN BRED!

photo of Candice and Carolyn by B. McDonough — above photo by C. McDonough

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