I know, I know, is Meg touting some headline she read in a back alley with an activist from Sweden? I swear, I’m not. Bill’s company recently distributed this award winning documentary that is one of the most powerful films I have ever seen. It has been a long time since a documentary has motivated me to spread the word and yes, do something about an injustice that to say the least, is one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen. It is not just about the unbelievable acts that are carried out on a day to day basis in this cove, this film illuminated the system around it that supports it indirectly that you and I innocently patron. While I know you won’t need much convincing if you see this film, please, please, please sign the letter below and spread the word. We must save Japan’s dolphins.
P.S. The dolphin that played Flipper committed suicide.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Running With Mom
Last October I decided to start running 5k races every month in honor of my mother, Betsy McEnroe. She passed away December 24th 2008 from heart and lung disease. The event of her death was traumatic, but it is not what I want to remember when I think of my mother. Working to get beyond that traumatic event has been, well, work. As with those that have lost close loved ones, my grief lives and breathes when it wants to, not when I choose it to. Luckily, running has become my certain, cherished time with my mother.
In the months after her death I resorted to the pavement every single morning. What I discovered while running was the incredible power of my mother’s memory in nature. Outside was the place my mother was happiest. Every tree to her was a creature that deserved attention and admiration. So many of the afternoons/ summers of my childhood were spent outside with my mother exploring, learning and getting dirty. Many walks and adventures led us to encyclopedias and books in the evening poring over additional information about the things we observed. Spring and summer we spent helping Mom prepare her garden. I’ll never forget my mother standing over a giant bull snake in the middle of the road to save it from cars zooming by so my science teacher could come catch and release it safely somewhere else. Consequently, the most beautiful memories I have of my mother are those that remind me of her utter fascination and love of life itself. Naturally, running outside yields many opportunities to be with her through nature.
For months while running I would cry. By the way, crying while running is an interesting sensation and one I’ve gotten very used to. My tear filled running spats normally were triggered by something so beautiful in nature that I would hear the voice of my mother in her quirky way asking about what type of plant I had jogged passed or a tree that I know she would have adored in her singular way. One morning very early, I witnessed the twilight of the morning sunrise over a very rare empty lot in LA covered in green clover. The light lit this field in such an incredibly beautiful way that I had to catch my breath. After doing so, I asked out loud, “I wonder if Mom is here to see this?” Immediately after I asked, a car alarm went off right next to me. I looked around to see what could have triggered it, but found not one soul, human or otherwise. I truly believe that was Mom and only hope that one day I can confirm that.
Beyond feeling her admiration of the natural beauty that surrounds me, I simply hear her clearest when I am running. I am free to go down memory lane with the rhythm of my breath and feet guiding me. When I struggle with an issue I give it up to thought while running and inevitably I hear Mom telling me to listen to my heart. But mostly, the stresses of my everyday life vanish and I can devote my heart to listening to her tell me that she is with me. She is with me in every moment I recognize the beauty of a tree or a wave in the ocean or the courage of a friend. Her ability to admire and love all life that surrounded her, is what lives in me. This took me a year to realize through the sanctuary of running, within which I hear my mother’s voice. The next time you see someone running, please know, they may not just be concerned about their figure, they may be attending church.
In the months after her death I resorted to the pavement every single morning. What I discovered while running was the incredible power of my mother’s memory in nature. Outside was the place my mother was happiest. Every tree to her was a creature that deserved attention and admiration. So many of the afternoons/ summers of my childhood were spent outside with my mother exploring, learning and getting dirty. Many walks and adventures led us to encyclopedias and books in the evening poring over additional information about the things we observed. Spring and summer we spent helping Mom prepare her garden. I’ll never forget my mother standing over a giant bull snake in the middle of the road to save it from cars zooming by so my science teacher could come catch and release it safely somewhere else. Consequently, the most beautiful memories I have of my mother are those that remind me of her utter fascination and love of life itself. Naturally, running outside yields many opportunities to be with her through nature.
For months while running I would cry. By the way, crying while running is an interesting sensation and one I’ve gotten very used to. My tear filled running spats normally were triggered by something so beautiful in nature that I would hear the voice of my mother in her quirky way asking about what type of plant I had jogged passed or a tree that I know she would have adored in her singular way. One morning very early, I witnessed the twilight of the morning sunrise over a very rare empty lot in LA covered in green clover. The light lit this field in such an incredibly beautiful way that I had to catch my breath. After doing so, I asked out loud, “I wonder if Mom is here to see this?” Immediately after I asked, a car alarm went off right next to me. I looked around to see what could have triggered it, but found not one soul, human or otherwise. I truly believe that was Mom and only hope that one day I can confirm that.
Beyond feeling her admiration of the natural beauty that surrounds me, I simply hear her clearest when I am running. I am free to go down memory lane with the rhythm of my breath and feet guiding me. When I struggle with an issue I give it up to thought while running and inevitably I hear Mom telling me to listen to my heart. But mostly, the stresses of my everyday life vanish and I can devote my heart to listening to her tell me that she is with me. She is with me in every moment I recognize the beauty of a tree or a wave in the ocean or the courage of a friend. Her ability to admire and love all life that surrounded her, is what lives in me. This took me a year to realize through the sanctuary of running, within which I hear my mother’s voice. The next time you see someone running, please know, they may not just be concerned about their figure, they may be attending church.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
BC Free!
Wait, what?? Is this Meg's annual post to her very popular blog? So popular, that everyone waits for the ONE post every year with so much anticipation that there are circles of betting pools that are worth hundreds of millions as to when she will post. Well, it may be. For me to share with the world wide web that shellacs my words for thousands of years to search engines that are easy enough for the entire Fox network to use, it HAS to be worth it! Think of the next Jon Stewart (he will be cloned btw) reading this in 2100.
Well Jon, in case you ARE reading this, the reason I post today is to tell the world how happy I am to be off of birth control! (I think Jon will stop reading at this point, but...) I am literally happier than I've been in six months. I have ruled out all other possible factors, such as the sunshine outside, an absorbent amount of expensive lotion in my bathroom, the fact that I intend to eat horribly this weekend, or any kind of stimulant that I have consumed this morning. Nope, none of that. My amazing team of personal doctors, aka WEB MD tells me it is my hormones (specifically testosterone) being produced by me in the good ole natural way! Not a pill, not a MAN made hormone derived from god knows what in a factory, shipped to me via a nice little neat plastic package that promises i will only have a two day period in exchange for a mind numbing, mood altering, body bloating experience for the other 26!
I suppose this was God's way of telling me just how lucky we are to have our OWN hormones and how they make you feel great even if you are in the midst of a career change and you only have thirty bucks in your bank account (kidding, i have millions). Thanks God. And thanks to the many thousands of you for reading this, your only MegMac post of 2010.... most likely, perhaps, i can't promise anything with this happiness!!
Well Jon, in case you ARE reading this, the reason I post today is to tell the world how happy I am to be off of birth control! (I think Jon will stop reading at this point, but...) I am literally happier than I've been in six months. I have ruled out all other possible factors, such as the sunshine outside, an absorbent amount of expensive lotion in my bathroom, the fact that I intend to eat horribly this weekend, or any kind of stimulant that I have consumed this morning. Nope, none of that. My amazing team of personal doctors, aka WEB MD tells me it is my hormones (specifically testosterone) being produced by me in the good ole natural way! Not a pill, not a MAN made hormone derived from god knows what in a factory, shipped to me via a nice little neat plastic package that promises i will only have a two day period in exchange for a mind numbing, mood altering, body bloating experience for the other 26!
I suppose this was God's way of telling me just how lucky we are to have our OWN hormones and how they make you feel great even if you are in the midst of a career change and you only have thirty bucks in your bank account (kidding, i have millions). Thanks God. And thanks to the many thousands of you for reading this, your only MegMac post of 2010.... most likely, perhaps, i can't promise anything with this happiness!!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A V Day Squid Hunt
Due to my recent obsession with the aggressive predatory Humboldt Squid (due to global warming they are taking over the Pacific at many different levels of the ocean), I have recently had the inclination to visit one of the many incredible aquariums in California. Mostly, in hopes of seeing a squid but also to enjoy beautiful fish and sea animals. For Valentines Day Bill took me early on Saturday to the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach. We arrived before the children and enjoyed every minute of it. I felt like I was on a school field trip without my teacher. 
One day, similar to all my favorite rap stars and really cool people, I hope to have a salt water tank. While I believe Bill had hoped to get my underwater discussions (more like Meg retelling the Discovery Humboldt Squid documentary to Bill in animated detail) out of my system, he just put a gallon of gas on my watery world obsessions. I will visit as many aquariums as possible. And yes I did manage to find a squid. I had to push children out of the way to get a picture, so please enjoy. 
Friday, September 5, 2008
7 Years Almost Not Celebrated in Cozumel
Bill and I decided to take the all too cliche vacation for our seven year anniversary of being around each other all the time, an all inclusive trip to Cozumel. It was one of the obvious choices and behold we found a resort that our friends had recently honeymooned at, the Allegro. Awe yes, eight hours of traveling and we arrive, take a taxi and are dropped off. The ominous look our taxi driver gave us should have given me pause, but dressed in my sweats, hungry and hung over from travel we walked into the entry excited to finally relax.
They tell us our room is not going to be ready for another three hours. No problem, we'll have lunch and hang on the beach who cares, we are in MEXICO!! Where is the Tequila!?? We are directed to a path to the "restaurant". We are stopped by a tiny little woman with the face of grandmother who probably takes in orphans in her spare time. I think wow, they even have Mother Theresa on staff! She smiles and asks us to sit down so that we may learn a little info about the resort. Sure, anything for you Mother Theresa. We sit down, twenty minutes later we know everything about Cozumel and are signed up for a time share presentation at their "beautiful property" next door. I am sweatier and hungrier and feel like I've been slapped in the face by Mother Theresa.
OK, buck up, lets get lunch! Wheres the tequila??? We walk on. We come to the first pool that resembles your basic jumbo water play scape mobbed with about 100 screaming 2-5 year old children and their parents trying to make sense of their children's chaos that is interrupted by the toot of a boat horn that is strapped to the top of a giant pirate head. I start to twitch. Bill is dripping with sweat and the fear in his eyes says everything. We come to the adult pool. It is surrounded by an ugly black nylon fence and it is drained. The sound of impending doom snaps us from our trance on the very sad looking pool. It is the loud speaker from yet another pool, "All you nine year olds, are you ready!!!!??" We come upon one of the strangest scenes I have ever experienced. A pool filled to the brim with 8 - 15 year olds screaming, playing and well you can imagine what else. Surrounding the pool are their parents napping!!! As if this is normal and they are on their own islands with only the sound of birds chirping. What it is going on!? Again, a woman in a booth starts announcing upcoming games, so loud that I can't hear myself go into shock. I look at Bill for an answer. I desperately want to understand. This can't be it. This can't be what will be for the next six days of our life. I go into survival mode. This is not going to happen. By the way, the ocean is literally 10 feet from the edge of this hellish scene and we did not care, didn't even notice in fact. We sit, decide that after we get lunch, we will ask about availability at their "beautiful property" next door. At this point we know we will do anything, pay anything. Deep breaths, we have a plan.
We walk into the "restaurant". Similar to every other scene we've experienced, it is filled with children and parents going on as if nothing is wrong. There is no where to sit. We grab plates to get something at the buffet. We walk through the entire buffet, there is not one thing I would eat. We look and feel like aliens as we put our plate back down. Bill attempts to get a beverage. It is the worst resemblance of a margarita I have ever seen. Not one sip I could handle. We go to the front desk. I ask the woman about availability next door. She gives me an uncertain look. Evidently the look on my face says many things as an upper management employee comes over, Miguel. He is tall and relaxed in the face with a smile. My angel Miguel. He looks and me and smiles "Too many kids?" "Yes, Yes!" I say, thinking perfect I can blame it on the kids! I won't look like an asshole now for pointing out the other horrible facts about the place. Miguel takes over. Hope fills Billy's eyes. Miguel gets us a room at the Occidental Grand for a minimal increase in price. He calls us a taxi. I would have had sex with Miguel.
We arrive at the Occidental Grand . We are given champagne as they check us in. The property is absolutely stunning. I almost cry. They direct us towards the beach club for lunch. A waiter seats us. We have drinks served and eat from a beautiful buffet. Bill has a Christmas morning grin on his face. We look over the beautiful water and feel as though we narrowly escaped a six day hell and arrived at the very antithesis. Our view at that moment: <
We walk to our beautiful room and hear the toot of the far off boat horn that takes our exhausted brains right back to that hellish scene. We squeeze each other's hands. A perfect start to our much deserved celebration of our very special seven years together, through thick and thin, Billy and Meg somehow make it through. Perhaps a higher power gave us that experience to remind us of how lucky we really are to have each other. Through the next six days, we lounged, swam, snorkeled and mostly just enjoyed being with each other, doing nothing. The stars were amazing, but unfortunately our camera couldn't grab them. So you'll just have to go yourself.
They tell us our room is not going to be ready for another three hours. No problem, we'll have lunch and hang on the beach who cares, we are in MEXICO!! Where is the Tequila!?? We are directed to a path to the "restaurant". We are stopped by a tiny little woman with the face of grandmother who probably takes in orphans in her spare time. I think wow, they even have Mother Theresa on staff! She smiles and asks us to sit down so that we may learn a little info about the resort. Sure, anything for you Mother Theresa. We sit down, twenty minutes later we know everything about Cozumel and are signed up for a time share presentation at their "beautiful property" next door. I am sweatier and hungrier and feel like I've been slapped in the face by Mother Theresa.
OK, buck up, lets get lunch! Wheres the tequila??? We walk on. We come to the first pool that resembles your basic jumbo water play scape mobbed with about 100 screaming 2-5 year old children and their parents trying to make sense of their children's chaos that is interrupted by the toot of a boat horn that is strapped to the top of a giant pirate head. I start to twitch. Bill is dripping with sweat and the fear in his eyes says everything. We come to the adult pool. It is surrounded by an ugly black nylon fence and it is drained. The sound of impending doom snaps us from our trance on the very sad looking pool. It is the loud speaker from yet another pool, "All you nine year olds, are you ready!!!!??" We come upon one of the strangest scenes I have ever experienced. A pool filled to the brim with 8 - 15 year olds screaming, playing and well you can imagine what else. Surrounding the pool are their parents napping!!! As if this is normal and they are on their own islands with only the sound of birds chirping. What it is going on!? Again, a woman in a booth starts announcing upcoming games, so loud that I can't hear myself go into shock. I look at Bill for an answer. I desperately want to understand. This can't be it. This can't be what will be for the next six days of our life. I go into survival mode. This is not going to happen. By the way, the ocean is literally 10 feet from the edge of this hellish scene and we did not care, didn't even notice in fact. We sit, decide that after we get lunch, we will ask about availability at their "beautiful property" next door. At this point we know we will do anything, pay anything. Deep breaths, we have a plan.
We walk into the "restaurant". Similar to every other scene we've experienced, it is filled with children and parents going on as if nothing is wrong. There is no where to sit. We grab plates to get something at the buffet. We walk through the entire buffet, there is not one thing I would eat. We look and feel like aliens as we put our plate back down. Bill attempts to get a beverage. It is the worst resemblance of a margarita I have ever seen. Not one sip I could handle. We go to the front desk. I ask the woman about availability next door. She gives me an uncertain look. Evidently the look on my face says many things as an upper management employee comes over, Miguel. He is tall and relaxed in the face with a smile. My angel Miguel. He looks and me and smiles "Too many kids?" "Yes, Yes!" I say, thinking perfect I can blame it on the kids! I won't look like an asshole now for pointing out the other horrible facts about the place. Miguel takes over. Hope fills Billy's eyes. Miguel gets us a room at the Occidental Grand for a minimal increase in price. He calls us a taxi. I would have had sex with Miguel.
We arrive at the Occidental Grand . We are given champagne as they check us in. The property is absolutely stunning. I almost cry. They direct us towards the beach club for lunch. A waiter seats us. We have drinks served and eat from a beautiful buffet. Bill has a Christmas morning grin on his face. We look over the beautiful water and feel as though we narrowly escaped a six day hell and arrived at the very antithesis. Our view at that moment: <
We walk to our beautiful room and hear the toot of the far off boat horn that takes our exhausted brains right back to that hellish scene. We squeeze each other's hands. A perfect start to our much deserved celebration of our very special seven years together, through thick and thin, Billy and Meg somehow make it through. Perhaps a higher power gave us that experience to remind us of how lucky we really are to have each other. Through the next six days, we lounged, swam, snorkeled and mostly just enjoyed being with each other, doing nothing. The stars were amazing, but unfortunately our camera couldn't grab them. So you'll just have to go yourself.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Visit from the Gregg
My Dad, Gregg (yes I am one of those people who call their parent by their first name due to a very cold, non-engaging childhood, kidding) came to visit me for the first time in Los Angeles since I've lived here, 5 years now. His excuse for visiting was assisting in the hauling of 8 sport horses to San Juan Capistrano for a horse show. My father is a farrier and his client of several years needed a good strong man to make sure nothing happened on the trip from Cypress,Texas to California. They arrived at the stables at 2am on Monday night. That day my dad had changed two tires on a 15 ton horse trailer in the middle of the desert. Needless to say he was exhausted, but volunteered us to help with the unloading of the horses/ trailer. Bill got a chance to help hay the stalls and yes he even carried horse shit from the trailer that my dad and I mucked. So proud I am that he even came near it.
Our drive to Los Angeles was a blur at 3am. Bill got pulled over for speeding but didn't get a ticket due to his unbelievable boyish good looks (yes the cop was gay). They apparently were looking for another bad guy as they shut down the freeway and had helicopters circling. The following three days I led Gregg around my life in Los Angeles. We had lunch at the Abbey, looked at classic cars, listened to Beethoven at the Hollywood Bowl and spent an afternoon at the Getty enjoying the summer garden. Gregg even grabbed my camera and was snapping pics like a pro. Every time I go home to Texas, Gregg tries to convince me to move back. Before he got on the plane back home, Gregg confessed to Bill that he will stop trying to do that. Alas, it only took 3 days in Los Angeles to halt the argument, too bad he didn't come sooner.
Our drive to Los Angeles was a blur at 3am. Bill got pulled over for speeding but didn't get a ticket due to his unbelievable boyish good looks (yes the cop was gay). They apparently were looking for another bad guy as they shut down the freeway and had helicopters circling. The following three days I led Gregg around my life in Los Angeles. We had lunch at the Abbey, looked at classic cars, listened to Beethoven at the Hollywood Bowl and spent an afternoon at the Getty enjoying the summer garden. Gregg even grabbed my camera and was snapping pics like a pro. Every time I go home to Texas, Gregg tries to convince me to move back. Before he got on the plane back home, Gregg confessed to Bill that he will stop trying to do that. Alas, it only took 3 days in Los Angeles to halt the argument, too bad he didn't come sooner.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
A Flushing Dream
Moms house smashed then disconnected old toilet. Meg, Bill, Gar go to Home Depot (in concord concord ave) to Buy a new one to install. The row of display toilets are all missing the tags for purchase so we ask our helper who indicates they are out of toilets. Unbelieving we meander around looking for help. We go to the customer service window and while waiting in line Johnny Sakkis comes in very tall and skinny wearing a striped sweater and sideways cap. You both look so skinny and are wearing sweaters I say hugging Johnny and Gar. “I’m fat”. So then delivery truck of toilets arrives and many workers begin to uncrate and un wrap all these toilets. We begin the selection process, they are all the wrong shape wrong color too expensive etc, one was very plain and still 500 dollars. I’m not paying 500 for a toilet. Where are all the 22-dollar toilets I saw when we got here? Some lady screams hey you wanna buy a toilet I gotta leave so hurry up and pick one; Meg picks a peach colored toilet. That wont work Meg it has to be white. I blow the lady off and find our original helper who is uncrating toilets. This one is 799, 799 it better wipe your ass for you, I think it does he says pointing to the array of buttons on the side. I just want a regular ol fucking toilet. We find one its normal its 56 $. Load it up. I am waiting in the parking lot of a random place smoking a cigarette with the camera and sweaters etc. no one comes for a long time so I walk across the street and Johnny and gar get out of a cab. Where the fuk have you been, where’s Meg, where’s the toilet. We left dude what the fuck this toilet thing is your deal. Fine I walk off across the parking lot through a girls softball game where the third baseman makes a diving catch from the pitcher face first and tags out the runner headed home down the third baseline all in one movement. Awesome. Meg and mom arrive with bags from home depot. Where’s the toilet, its in Megs car. Mom – don’t worry we’ll install it. NO. I’m gonna do it. Its ok you’ve done enough we’ll take care of it. NO. I’ve installed hundreds of toilets I want to do it, if you do it it will probably fucking leak ………
A dream Bill Jacks dreamt on 8.8.08 and wrote down at 5am.
Noted: Bill Jacks needs a vacation.
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