Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Ocean is providing an invaluable public service by letting the readers know that hair matters

I just can’t get enough of that book (The Substance of Style, see post below). It’s not that I need validation for the important things that I engage in each day (clean office, talk to colleagues...). It’s the idea that surface matters. It’s that there is this hidden little secret about life that we’ve all been loath to admit. There was a REASON why I was excited about finally framing my singular, lovely print of Zelazowa Wola today to hang in my office, and that I was tickled about picking up this little pot of lilies-of-the-valley for the spot right next to the clock, and why I was EXTATIC to learn that I would have my computer screen upgraded in my office to one of those flat skinny models… I am but a slave to aesthetics.

More importantly, I learned something that may help readers undersatnd why some politicians survive and others fade with the last strand of thining hair. [Why is Tony Blair’s popularity waning? It’s his hair. It’s not looking as good as it once did. ] I read the following:

The 2001 British election concentrated even more blatantly on the candidates’ looks. “The underlying topic of the General Election,” wrote a Tory commentator, “was not tax and spend, boom or bust, saving the pound and snatching Britain from the gaping, salivating maw of Europe, but hair, and [Tory candidate William] Hague’s distressing lack of it.” Hague’s looks were universally declared a major political problem, before and after he was troused by Tony Blair. “The general view is that he looks a lot like a fetus in a suit,” said an old friend and ally.
The hair is not holding up though. A Tory leader attacked Blair on the hair issue. “He’s losing it pretty rapidly and brushes it like a teased Weetabix.”

Don't know what Weetabix look like? Neither did I. Thank you Google:




Ireland, Italy, Norway, Poland -- which does not belong?

The answer is Poland. The remaining countries all have strict laws prohibiting smoking in public places. (Admittedly, they are the only EU countries that have complete bans on smoking in public places.)

The strictest laws are (as of today) to be found in Italy, where fines are imposed both on smokers (first fine was issued at 12:01 a.m. in a Naples restaurant) and on restaurant owners. In addition, secret agents patrol eating spots to catch those who refuse to comply.

Not surprisingly, passions run high on both sides of the issue. Clean air advocates were out last night, spraying with water those who lit up. Smokers, on the other hand, vowed to challenge the imposition of such hefty fines ($2600 for a restaurateur who does not report an offender). Already owners of eateries are reporting that patrons finish meals quickly, bypass the espresso and dash outside to light up.

And can't you just see it, this being Italy, the exaggeration of the issue, the display of tense emotion, the theatrics as you dash to take out your crumpled pack of nicotine and light up? [An Italian writer proclaimed: "I vow to continue to smoke cigars in public or move to Cuba, where you can smoke even in airports!"] This would have been the night to do some serious restaurant-hopping there -- with notebook and camera in hand for a blog report. The IHT story on the first cigarette-free day is way too brief and to the point. I'm counting on bloggers to pick up the slack.


Showing off…

People can get carried away with their clean-up projects. They can spend hours sorting through files, getting rid of dated texts, dusting, redecorating. Hours.

Then they can go up, seek out a colleague, drag her down to show off the freshly polished space, take in the compliments, gloat a little. Finally, they can sit back, listen to a CD maybe and forget about the fact that this is A Place of Work.

Really, hours.

Is happiness worth $4.95? How about $13.95 plus tax?

If a person gets up at 5:30 in the morning and quickly runs through the handful of sites that are standard reading material, then logs on to Time.com because she has seen that the cover story is on the new science of happiness, should one suspect that there are reasons for such earnest morning reading? If she is blocked from proceeding further because Time is selfish enough to require a commitment of $4.95 before it will divulge the secret to happiness, and she hesitates before moving forward, does that mean that a.) she is happy and thinks it’s not worth the money to find out what others are saying about happiness, or b.) she is so miserable that she is stymied and can go no further?

If her next activity is to pick up the book that she has been reading on the Substance of Style and flip quickly to the last pages where she reads “we [should] enjoy the age of look and feel, using surfaces to add pleasure and meaning to the substance of our lives,” is that not suggestive that she is searching for some deeper justification for then putting aside the computer and spending the next fifteen minutes or so deciding what she should wear to go to the office, where she intends to spend the better part of the day redecorating the place? [N.b., the book is $13.95 and it is worth every penny. If you ever needed someone to explain to you why dabbling in ornamentation, delighting in purchasing pretty things and finding pleasure in aesthetics in general is an important function of life, this is the text for you.]