Tea with McNair

• eigth below, thirty-two thousand above

[Antarctica map, left.Click to enlarge]

My least favorite place to spend time is IN an airplane. I do not fear flying. Imagine going into a furniture store and picking out the smallest, least comfortable chair they have and dragging it into the far corner of the store--away from the front door so you won't get any bothersome fresh air in your face. Now sit down and pull the chair as close to the wall (facing the wall) as you can. Stay there for several hours, until you arrive in (insert name of large airport.)
    Don't worry, some one will bring you a soft drink and an un-openable bag of .05 oz. of salty carbohydrates. Enjoy your flight.
    But wait, there's good news for your time spent at 32,000 feet above the earth, they're going to show you a movie. A big Hollywood movie--on a tiny Seattle-installed screen.
    Our feature presentation today will be either a recent blockbuster that can barely be enjoyed on your giant home theatre system with surround sound, under-sofa-woofer, and flat plasma screen, or it is a movie you have never heard of, but if you had you still would have chosen not to see it in a theatre near you.
    For your listening pleasure there are headphone-shaped devices in the seat pocket in front of you--crammed between the in-flight magazine and the vomit bag.
    Recently I watched KING KONG (2005) in-flight and fell asleep “on the boat.” On my recent European bivouac I both watched films from United’s nine film playlist and brought my own DVDs, just incase. Fortunate kismet occurred when I discovered on their  list of lofty flics, the delightful Australian production of PETER PAN (2003.) Though I had seen this effulgent production both in a theater and on home DVD I watched it again. Then, following a trip to the bathroom-like closet onboard, I plugged my Mac Powerbook into the power socket, inserted my own DVD and cried my way through FINDING NEVERLAND for the sixth or ninth time. (By-the-by, Jan A.P. Kaczmarek’s Neverland soundtrack is among my “most played” while writing and imagining these days.) These two films would be a full, rich, remarkable mid-summer night’s miracle for your next neighborhood family film night. You do have family film nights on your block, don’t you? It’s Summer, start them!
    All that (the previous 404 words) to say this. Last week I watched a real gem on my flight home from New York, New York. I had never never heard of it and rush to United’s Red Carpet Room in the Denver Air Museum to go online for more info. Once again life has smiled on us all as it was due to be released on DVD the  very next Tuesday. Which Tuesday is now, as I write this, behind us and the film is available for rental and ownership, everywhere.
    “What’s the name of the movie, McNair?!”
  I thought you’d never ask. EIGHT BELOW (Poster, left. Click to enlarge.) Even when I saw it listed in the in-flight movie guide I had to look it up. There was an entire paragraph on the story, Antarctica, scientific outpost, guy and his dog team (eight dogs living below the Arctic Circle.) It is based on a true story. I am going to tell you no more of the story as even a little bit of plot will give it away. You will want to have it unfold before you as I did and relive the  adventure. It also has a good bit of comedy and a sprinkling of romance.
   This is certainly a kid-friendly (PG, but not at all sappy) movie--produced by Disney. There are some emotionally tense, high-adventure sequences that may be too powerful for very young kids. (I make it my policy to NEVER say any film is appropriate for your kids. Every kid is wired different, as any parent of two or more well knows.)
    If you are an animal lover, it will grab you deeply. If you are a dog person (as I am, completely) it will make you want to run out and buy six Siberian Huskies and two Alaskan Malamutes, today! Mine are sitting outside in my vehicle, watching me write right now, here in Cafe Zoetrope (photo, left, red awnings) in San Francisco. The human cast is flawless and under the keen direction of Frank Marshall--long-time Spielberg producing partner (Indiana Jones, etc.) Marshall creates a steady emotional pace that would have been lost in less deft directoral hands. The near perfect score (by Mark Isham, one of our current masters) weaves effortlessly through a challenging piece of storytelling that must jog back-and-forth between two or three simultaneous plot lines.
    EIGHT BELOW, at 32,00 feet above sea level was one of the great surprises of my recent travels. It stirred me on the level of persistently and relentlessly going after something you believe in no matter the cost--even when those closest tell you to give up and the outcome may be bleak, at best.
    The real risk in life is doing what’s safest. So, on your next flight, get comfortable, and watch the stupid, you’ve-never-even-heard-of-it-before movie. You might just meet eight amazing new friends.
    (Just incase, have a good book nearby--and a cup of tea. Don’t be dummy.)

   

 

[Let me know what you think, after you’ve watched this delightful film and watched my new friends, above.]

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• Is it hot here, or is it just Al Gore?

I am in NYC and it's hot --- it's Africa hot. (And so is the blazing new all-black Apple "MacBook" I'm playing with and blogging on--right now--at the spacious new Apple Store in Manhattan.) 

Meanwhile, still hot, moist, "sultry" some say. I say, "HOT."  Can you tell by my expression, ah . . . perspiration?

• Glory!

more than a haircut

Bibbo (bee' boe). On San Francisco's Union square is a hair salon where I get my hairs edited several times each year. The shop is named Bibbo and so is the owner.

[ Photo of McNair: AMA Sacto ]

    I began with Bibbo, himself, cutting my hair. One day, Bibbo was visiting his native Brazil and I was placed in the magical hands of new staff member Yasuyo, a delightful Japanese woman who takes pampering to new heights. She has been “handling” me for a year now. A few weeks back, Yasuyo was gone and Bibbo was her back up. The salon was uncharacteristically quiet that day, Bibbo and I were not. He is always engaging, effusive, effulgent, and encouraging. Having Bibbo cut your hair--at which he is a master--is merely an excuse for being in his presence. He ALWAYS makes me feel good about myself.         
    “Delightful to see you, McNair!” He will exclaim from across the room-over articulating and projecting my name as though he is announcing my presence to all gathered therein. Sitting in his station I ask him who some of his more fascination clients have been.
    “Just the other day,” Bibbo began quickly as though he'd rehearsed his answer. “A very wealth woman, who I have worked with for many years, came in wearing an enormous hat and dark glasses. She sat without speaking to any of my staff.” He stopped to get my attention and make a funny face. I'd call it “puckered.“ Bibbo continued, “I don't want to talk to anyone today, just cut my hair and leave me alone. This was a big announcement she is making to me.”  Again with the puckered face.
    “But who is she to come to my salon with so much negativity, to ignore my staff, and be so bossy and mean spirited?” Then, placing his open hand, with fingers stretched wide apart to make his hand even bigger, Bibbo placed his hand on his chest and proclaim with ferocious passion, “But I came here with GLORY in me to share with everyone. You have no right to stop me from fill the world with the reason I was put on earth!”
    As my eyes welled up with tears I smiled from ear-to-ear. Glory! is precisely what I always received from Bibbo even on the many visits when Bibbo was not the one editing my thick curls. Glory - - it's what we all exude when we consciously and vibrantly pursue our dreams. Bibbo does that ever day as an employer, hair stylist, husband and father of four beautiful children. He brings out my glory and makes me want to continue doing it in others. Being in the presence of his glory is priceless - - even if Bibbo were only an average scissor man.
    Two nights ago, my favorite waitress at Fog City Diner, here in San Francisco, and I were chatting about my Imaginuity work. “What do you do in your workshops?” She inquired, asking for clarity.
    “I assist folks in, well, let me ask you. If failure was not an option and your rent and other expenses would be taken care of, what would you like to be doing in your life, right now?”
    “Acting.” She barked quickly and almost defiantly as if to say. “Well, DUH! You know, McNair, I want to act!”
    “Great!” I shot back. “So, what are you willing to do to make that happen--to have acting as the thing you do, primarily? What hard choices and maybe personal sacrifices will you make to live your GLORY?  Angela, of course, asked about the “glory” reference and I told about Bibbo and the angry big-hatted client. Rather I stood and re-enacted Bibbo with hand on chest (“Glory in me”) and then enormous, bravura sweeping gesture just as Bibbo had demonstrated sharing his glory with everyone.
    Are you, dear reader, ready to live your GLORY? Why not start your dream tomorrow?
    We're all waiting to see it.                                                                                              

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