That is a big part of my job -- making a connection between you and what's going on in the community around you.
It's particularly challenging for me at election time. Research, and my experience with Voice of the Voter, shows most people feel disconnected from politics, government, and community. My sense from the Voice of the Voter participants is a lot of folks have lost faith in ANY politician's ability to affect positive change within the "system." Even the "good" politicians don't stand a chance when they get into the legislative chambers. (If they can get there in the first place.)
But if enough people care, the "system" can't stop progress.
It's Super Tuesday. Ever media website imaginable has an abundance of election coverage stories, specials and live coverage and what article catches my eye on the MSN homepage? "Sorry You're Too Fat To Eat Here." What? Kudos to the person who wrote the article because as far as titles and tag lines go, you had me at hello. How could I not read this?
I've never given much thought to the extra day that gets tagged onto February every 4 years. Yeah, it's sort of exciting because it is different and for that one day you get to write a date is somewhat rare, but other than that it is exactly how I described it above- an extra day tagged onto the end of February.
Then my mom sent me a link (you have no idea how impressed I am that my mom even knows how to send a link) to a site named Leap Year Day and I had an epiphany: Leap Year Day must be quite the ordeal for someone that was born on February 29.
If you walk your dog in Toronto’s Jean Sibelius Square, take a leash.
As of January 1st, unleashed dogs were officially banned from the park named for the famous Scandinavian composer, Jean Sibelius. The centrally located park lies near Bathurst and Dupont streets.
Dogs’ rights aside, the park underscores the incredible popularity of Sibelius, who lived from 1865-1957. I can’t think of a composer alive today so universally revered. I’ve been reading about Jean Sibelius, and my appreciation for his music is moving beyond “Finlandia” worship. He loved nature, birds, and drinking. He was a homebody, full of self-doubt, despite his fame.
Last week, I started complaining about the muddy, colorless winter weather. Today, I’m delighted every time I glance outside. The garden is etched in black and white, transformed into an Escher lithograph. Balls of ice-encrusted bee balm sway on brittle stalks. Privet bushes hunker down, nearly smothered by the heavy, wet snow. Cardinals flit, electric red. I declare this the loveliest winter weather ever, especially if you like shape and form and contrast.
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The Jerry Springer show -- that mesmerizing, down-market, slugfest -- has inspired an opera, and the first reviews are in: it’s good.
In today’s New York Times, Ben Brantley writes:
“If the real “Jerry Springer Show” turns its rowdy, angry guests into objects of sneering sport, 'Jerry Springer: The Opera' sees them as figures of passion, whose impulses, however base, translate into song that reaches for the stars.”
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