Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!

Month: April 2008

Lobster Dinner Cruise in Cancun Lagoon Lovely

     I can reliably report, from the eighty-degree weather of Cancun, Mexico, that the lobster cruise on the good ship “Columbus” was lovely. The shore from the vantage point of the all-you-can-eat and all-you-can-drink 2-hour cruise (priced about $75 per person) was gorgeous. It was windy, true, but what do you expect on a wooden boat that was damaged during the hurricane but restored and sails again? We’ve done this cruise about 5 times, and it never fails to impress. Tonight’s music was provided by a “live” saxophone player with accompaniment (pre-recorded) and the Mexican maitre de/MC apparently thought he was Don Ho reincarnated. He spent most of his time trying to make the evening “romantic,” which two women from Michigan found amusing, since they didn’t know it would be quite so, well, romantic.  The cruise included pick-up and delivery to and from our hotel, but it is no longer sponsored by the Royal Resorts, so it was difficult to find out who, where and when this cruise went off. But find it we did.

     While here, I read in “USA Today” that Bettendorf’s city fathers are being asked to re-zone the Abbey Hotel so that it can become a drug rehabilitation clinic at $15,000 to $20,000 a month or some such. I remember when the former Trappist monastery was being bought by a rich California investor and rehabbed into the hotel it now is. The last high school reunion (Alleman) that my husband and I attended was held there, and the food was wonderful, with the fanciest touches this side of the former “Charles Michel” restaurant in downtown Moline (now defunct).

     While appreciating that competition from the nearby “Isle of Capri” riverboat hotel and casino might well be crushing, the riverboat in Bettendorf has been there for a long time. Surely the hotel developers thought of that before sinking so much money into the renovation of this old building, complete with lovely lights outlining its frame at night?

    I can’t imagine the nearby residential residents being thrilled at the idea of a drug rehabilitation center entering their neighborhood. (I used to drive through this particular neighborhood every day on my way to my former business office at 1035 Lincoln Road, the Sylvan Learning Center’s old offices and still the offices of Sylvan’s Prometric Testing Service (now sold off to a New York concern). This is a middle-class neighborhood of mostly ranch-style homes.

      Tomorrow, Ixcaret at 8:30 a.m. until 10 p.m. at night: Mexico’s answer to America’s tourist wonderlands. I’m not going, but many in the party are.

Live from Cancun!

     This will be a stream-of-consciousness post from the sunny beaches of Cancun, Mexico, where I will be until April 19th.

      Yesterday was the “Welcome Party” at the Royal Sands. Free booze, dancing, music, etc. Most of the men in the party were over-served and perhaps some of the women, as one of our party (not me) had to lie down and that shot our plan(s) to go to “Coco Bongo,” the local nightspot that has lavish live shows. Those of you who saw “The Mask” with Cameron Diaz and Jim Carrey saw “Coco Bongo,” as they filmed some of it there.

      Two couples have taken off for downtown, but I am going to walk to Kukulcaan Plaza, the older mall, and see about having some loose stones set, which I puchased last year. That is my pattern: stones one year; mounting them the next. This year, a necklace and earrings will result, if the price of gold has not become too expensive. Always have the mounting done in Mexico, not the United States. One year, I took the stones back and had them mounted at home, and it was hugely expensive, by comparison with doing it here.

     Tomorrow, there will be a “free” taco party at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow, and then the day will be beach time and, at night, “game day.” We have actually brought a game called “Mexican Trains,” and I brought not only cards but a version of Trivial Pursuit. Plans call for dinner in the room and games to follow, unless someone is over-served again at the free Taco Party.

     After tonight’s dining at the J.W. Marriott next door (which used to have an “All-you-can-eat lobster buffet”, but no longer does), we’ll take a lobster dinner cruise on Wednesday.

     On Thursday, we will again re-visit one of the new restaurants that rose from the ashes of the hurricane: Puerto Meridian or Ponto Meridian. Know where it is; not sure of exact name. Lovely ambience and good food.

      Continuing a long-time tradition, we will hit a local spot known for its Robert Louis Stevenson chairs and dine-in-the-garden ambience: “L’Habituella.” I have probably mispelled this, as well, but I can report that the name means “the green bean.” It has twinkle lights in the trees and wonderful lobster bisque, but be prepared to shell out the greenbacks for same.

     More from the beach next week! It’s in the eighties and great here!

“An American in Paris” by Pamela: le Métro ? ? ?

Here is a picture of Ms Wilson and me, Pamela.  Connie thinks we were in a photo booth in the Paris Métro.  I am not sure about that but it looks like we were having a good time.  There are many photo booths in the Métro.  A photo is required to be placed on the “Carte Orange,” the pass that allows you to use the Métro.  Of course, you can buy individual tickets, but if you plan to spend some time in Paris and if you think you will be using the Métro to get around, a “Carte Orange” is definitely the most economical way to go.

Connie is blonde; Pamela is brunette.

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“An American in Paris” by Pamela: musée Rodin

The musée Rodin is one of my favorite museums.  It was opened in 1919 in the hôtel Biron and surrounding grounds.  Rodin used the hôtel Biron as his residence from 1908 and subsequently donated his entire collection of sculptures along with paintings by Vincent van Gogh and Pierre-Auguste Renoir that he had acquired to the French State on the condition that they turn the building into a museum dedicated to his works.  This picture of a rose in the rose garden was taken in the month of November 1997.

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interior…”le baiser”

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Konerak: New-Age Zombie

    Konerak quivered. Beast come back. No more! No more cut Konerak!

    The cold tile of the bathroom wall. Blood inside the tub, Konerak’s blood.

    The tall blonde man opened the bathroom door, approached Konerak.

    “This won’t hurt. Prince Philip of Orange had it done seventeen times by his surgeon. Nearly everyone lives. Well, 70%, anyway. It won’t hurt…. too much. There aren’t that many nerves in your skull. After I bore the hole, I’ll put in a nice soothing medicine. You’ll heal up and be as good as new. You’ll be a New-Age Zombie.”

     Jeffrey busied himself sharpening the ancient instrument, one used in Hippocrates’ time.  “One French doc…he drilled 52 holes in a patient’s head in just 2 months. The guy lived.  So, don’t worry. This will help you to accept your new life. I’m not such a bad guy. When you tried to get away and ran out into the street, that was stupid. Don’t do that again, or I will kill you. I told those cops we were lovers. We will be lovers. You will stay with me.”

     Konerak did not understand a single word. Konerak was of the Hmong people of Laos. He’d only been in Milwaukee for six months. The Hmong do not even have a written language. He spoke no English.

    How I get here? Konerak wondered. He remembered very little of the night, three days earlier. A bar. Loud music. Drink. Much cash. The man looked nice. I think he want sex, for money. Konerak’s slight build made him a frequent target in gay bars. American men would pay well for services.

    Konerak had broken out of the apartment, wandered, dazed into the streets, until the cops found him. But the Beast was right behind him. Konerak did not know the language of the policemen. They turned him back to the white devil. Now, Konerak lay in the bloody bathtub, trussed, cut, bleeding, terrified.

     Konerak tried to summon the strength to pull away from the sharp pointed instrument that Jeffrey held in his hands, but he was weak, both from loss of blood and from torture. He stank from urine and feces and blood and fear. He shook his head from side to side: No! No! No! No!  Eyes wide with fear.

    The beast approached his head with a drill.

   “I’m just going to take a small piece out of your skull, now,” said Jeffrey in what Jeffrey hoped was a soothing voice. “I’ll grind it up and drink it in my coffee.” A weird smile.  “The Incas thought it would make your spirit strong. Then, I’m going to pour this nice medicine (Jeffrey motioned towards a brown bottle on the floor) in the hole, and you’ll be fine. And we’ll be friends…and more.” Jeffrey smiled. “Are you OK with that?’  

     Konerak’s eyes glazed over. Excruciating pain rendered him stuporous and his gag made it impossible for him to speak.

     Konerak not do anything bad. Please! Please! Please!

    The horrible pain rendered Konerak unconscious.

Our Economic Woes Qualify Us as the Titanic of Super-Powers

                   

    An article entitled “Mismanagement 101” by Daniel Gross in the March 24, 2008 issue of Newsweek magazine (p. 22) agrees with dire predictions regarding the United States economy that come from almost all knowledgeable economic experts.

     In a recent CBS News New York Times poll (AOL main page, Friday, April 4th, 2008), 81% of respondents say our nation is heading in the wrong direction. The poll has existed since 1990 and this is the highest number ever of respondents saying that the ship of state is floundering,— due to mismanagement, according to Daniel Gross’ article.

     Gross points out, “The greenback last week hit new lows against foreign currencies. The dollar is so sad, we should consider renaming it the dolor.” (p. 22 of “Mismanagement 101”). He goes on to say that the dollar’s declining value reflects poorly on us, as a nation.

     Other countries think we are incapable of managing what was once viewed as the World’s Super Power. “At some level, the dollar’s woes reflect the world’s collective verdict on the ability of the United States—businesses, individuals, the government, the Federal Reserve—to manage the global financial system and the world’s largest economy. Lately, the verdict has been two thumbs down.”

    With thanks to Gross for pointing out the obvious, what did we think would happen when we elected a rather dim-minded sort whose crowning achievement in life had been fortunate parentage and cheerleading for Yale and Andover? George W. Bush was a failure even in the eyes of Ronald Reagan, who wrote scathingly in his diary of young “W’s” visit to meet him, shepherded there by his father, the Vice President. Reagan was right on the money in viewing “W’ as a ne’er-do-well who had “never held a real job” (Ronald Reagan’s Presidential Diary). In those fields that he attempted (oil, the Texas Rangers), young George had failed at every turn or been bailed out by “friends of the family.” Drug use. Draft-dodging. Sudden embrace of religion (much like convicted criminals).  All good credentials for having a beer with the guy, perhaps, but not-so-good credentials for running a complex economy, or, more accurately,  letting his stooges (Cheney, Rumfseld, Wolfowitz, Libby, et al)  run the country and the economy into the ground.

   So, today, as Gross says, “Thanks to widespread incompetence, American management is on its way to becoming an international laughingstock.” (p. 22 of Gross article) On its way? Methinks Daniel Gross doth under-estimate the journey. We are not “on our way” to becoming an international laughingstock. We are there! That ship has sailed!  And George W. Bush was the captain of the Bad Ship Lollypop who has (more-or-less) guided us on this ill-fated experiment in electing a not-very-bright-or-hardworking guy to be the leader of the Free World.

    A few countries had the great good sense to stay out of President Bush’s unfortunate, ill-timed, ill-conceived, expensive, immoral and mismanaged Iraq War  (the much maligned France, for one), but the Coalition of the Willing followed like sheep to the slaughter. I’m pretty sure that, today, Tony Blair regrets standing by his man.

    Where to begin in listing the nation’s woes? The sub-prime mess? Food costs rising? Pollution aplenty? The housing crisis? $4 a gallon gasoline? OPEC President Chakib Khelil responded recently that the price of gas “had nothing to do with the reluctance of the Persian Gulf nations to pump oil, and everything to do with the ‘mismanagement of the U.S. economy.'” (Gross article, p. 22) Paul O’Neill, former Secretary of the Treasury and, prior to that, the CEO of Alcoa, wrote an entire book about Bush’s incompetent bungling and desire to hear only what he wanted to hear. It’s now running on PBS as “Bush’s War.” Watch it and you’ll soon understand why we’re in this mess. Or try Richard Clarke and “In Defense of Liberty.” Richard Clarke was the man “on call” when 9/11 occurred and he has some scathing criticism for this President—-one of many he served. The one thing you don’t want to do in this Administration is “speak truth to power.” Do so and your career is  over.

    How about our aviation system?

     I’m writing this on Friday, April 4th, and the airline—ATA— that was to carry me to Cancun tomorrow just went under, taking with it the jobs of 2,200 employees and my ticket to ride. When I reach Cancun and snake through the security line at the airport, I will be asked to sing this refrain along with the security people there: “Please. Do not. Remove. Your shoes.” American management has come down to stupid rules made by stupid men with stupid consequences. Removing my shoes when I board the airliner (the result of the French “shoe-bomber” incident) has made all my fellow passengers feel much, much safer as they sit on the tarmac hoping that this airline, too, won’t go belly-up before we get to our destination. Or, worse yet, fail and go bust after depositing us all on the shores of some country where we don’t speak the language and will have to cope with the fall-out, trying to make our return flights in a foreign tongue (since so many of us are unwilling or unable to learn a second language, unlike Europeans.) In my own case, my $500 ticket is now a $1700 ticket on American Airlines—and I was lucky to get it! I’ve been going to Cancun in the spring for fifteen years and the highest-priced ticket was $800. This year’s will set a new record, and something tells me I’m in for more of the same, largely due to the PTB.

     On a “Sixty Minutes” segment  recently (CBS’s “Sixty Minutes”), Carl Icahn, the 1980s corporate raider who has reinvented himself as a comedian and activist investor told Lesley Stahl, regarding American incompetence in management, “I see our country going off a cliff, and I feel bad about it.”

     The bail-out that the U.S. government just provided to Baer Sterns was provided, I have read, because Baer-Sterns was the lynchpin of a house of cards that, if not supported, would come tumbling down with horrific ramifications, nationwide and system-wide. I think we’ve all heard Michael Moore’s assertions, made in his Oscar-nominated film “Fahrenheit/911” about what would happen if all the banks we owe money to called in the debt on the same day. China has largely funded our misguided war efforts, and the Saudis certainly have their finger in our national pie.

     The same government that bailed out a firm that was floundering,   is not rushing to bail out all the homeowners losing their houses. Forget the Ninth Ward in New Orleans. Good luck with that, Brad (Pitt). The government can’t be bothered.

    The “ARMS” that people without enough money took out to purchase housing they should have known they couldn’t afford, (interest on said loans  now rising faster than the Iraq War debt), have come home to roost. The financial “safeguards” in banking and finance, put in place years ago after the Depression-era crash, were tampered with or removed, and we are now reaping as we have sown. [My father, a long-time banker, predicted another Great Depression for years, and—even though he is long dead—I fear he is about to get his wish.]

    The Administration “experts” say it is just a “recession” that will “self-correct” and that we are just teetering on the edge of it, but those of us filling our tanks and paying more at the grocery store see things a little bit differently than George W. Bush in the White House. And your pension?: You may as well  kiss it good-bye, if we don’t elect a smart candidate to be our next President who understands how to pull our economy out of the mess it’s in ( which pretty much excludes the Republican nominee, who has publicly said that he “doesn’t understand” the economy  much; that makes him  fit in nicely with the current crop of White House Republicans. But bombing a country back to the Stone Age? McCain’s your man for that!)

     As Daniel Gross put it, “But those of us who aren’t billionaire corporate raiders—which is to say pretty much all of us—must manage through this management crisis on our own.” (Newsweek, March 24, 2008, “Mismanagement 101”, Daniel Gross in “The Money Culture”, p. 22).

    Amen, and please say a prayer for the United States of America. If you’re an atheist, simply observe a moment of silence. No matter what your religious persuasion(s) (or lack of same), it seems pretty clear that we need to NOT vote for more of the same.

 The Titanic, despite its myth of invincibility, did sink (a lesson in mismanagement) and so can we.

Back from Vegas; Headed to Cancun!

cancunsunset-5.jpgcancunsunset2.jpg     The bright lights of Vegas were shining just as brightly as I sat out an hour-long wind delay to board my Chicago bound United flight. After all, the city had relieved me of my budgeted $500 in gambling money in record time.

     While there, I saw “Spamalot” at the Wynn Hotel, featuring John O’Hurley as King Arthur. (O’Hurley will be better-known to many as Elaine’s boss J. Peterman on “Seinfeld,” for which he won a SAG Award.)

     The entire play is based on the Monty Python troupe’s well-known brand of humor and featured book and lyrics by Eric Idle, with Music by John Du Prez and Eric Idle.  Outstanding amongst the cast was Erica Ash as the Lady of the Lake and the voice of John Cleese as God was a nice touch. The entire performance, especially viewed from the front-row, was entertaining and definitely worth the money.

     The next day, I attended a read-through of An American Hamlet by the local Cockroach Players. The play is written by the founder of the Chicago Screenwriters Group, Dan Decker, who is mounting the production now.

     Last, but not least, on the occasion of my 40th anniversary, I took my spouse to see Tom Jones, front-row, at the MGM Grand. We were also in the front row, and this allowed me to display the LIFE magazine (from 1968) that I had carried from Illinois to Nevada in the hopes of getting Tom Jones’ autograph. I was put off by security, and told that maybe he would sign it if he caught sight of me with it. Therefore, I enlisted the help of four young women seated directly behind us, who had left their husbands home in L.A. and come to Vegas determined to have some good cheesy fun! They had brought thongs to launch at the 67 (nearly 68) year old entertainer.

    I kept “dancing” my copy of Jane Fonda as “Barbarella” (the LIFE magazine cover) about, in the hopes of catching Tom’s eye and attention. The girls kept launching underwear, and I kept using the magazine as a tool to snake the skivvies back, handing them back to the quartet with the instructions: “Relaunch!” Which they did. Again and again. Finally, Tom noticed our side of the stage and picked up one thong and asked, “What is this? An eye-patch?”

     As the show neared its finale, the girls and I began dancing in the far-right aisle. I was still dancing “with” Jane (Fonda) in hand, and, as the curtain was going down on the performers, Mr. Jones looked directly at me and mouthed the words, “What is that?” I held up a pen. And he immediately disappeared. So much for being a loyal fan who has seen the man at least 6 times over the years.

    A good time was had by all.

    Upon arriving back in Chicago, I discovered a vagrant sleeping in the condo lobby. This was somewhat disturbing, as I was a woman, alone, at midnight on a Tuesday night.

     This morning, I awakened to the news that ATA has declared bankruptcy. My tickets to Cancun on Saturday are on ATA, which has fired all 2,200 employees and, no doubt, left some travelers  stranded at their destinations of choice. Frenzied searching has turned up tickets that are 3 times more expensive on American, but at least the trip is still “on.”

   I’ll try to post from the beach, but you never know.

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