Erin's Journals

A quick update: as you may have seen on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter (I do get around), a speaking engagement has been booked for Oakville on February 25, 2019. I was astounded to learn this (via Twitter!) but later the same day, equally shocked to discover it was sold out. I know, it’s not Wembley Stadium, but still, it felt pretty amazing.
 
So we’ll fill you in tomorrow once I’ve heard from HarperCollins regarding any other appearances (there will be some) and how to go about getting tickets. I promise you’ll learn about it here first. Okay, so now to today’s journal….
 
Think about it: one month today, Christmas will be over. For better AND for worse. I am so grateful to get your feedback about last week’s “Friday Fave” (the sunrise lamp) and there’s another one on the way this week: something I’d only read about and thought, Oh, that’s neat…. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Still Monday.
 
As always, the fake “War on Christmas” has raised its ugly head, although with Bill O’Reilly mostly out of the picture, the rhetoric seems to be carrying a little less momentum. I’m convinced the whole religious persecution thing was spread by Fox with the same glee as the vile Birther movement against President Obama, just to divide people. Boy, didn’t it work, though? And while I am a firm believer in a meme I ran across a few years ago, we met a woman last week who most definitely is not. I don’t know who wrote it, but it read:

No one said you can’t say Merry Christmas. Some people choose to say Happy Holidays to be inclusive to everyone. No one gets offended when you say Merry Christmas. There is no War on Christmas. Just say something nice and people will be happy. It’s really pretty simple.
 
Chill. Be happy.

Last week in the pre-Thanksgiving rush at Costco, Rob and I found a rare parking spot and observed as a woman who was likely in her 80s struggled to unload the heavy contents of her cart (which we couldn’t help noticing included a Kirkland brand bottle of vodka – complete with handle). We asked the tiny lady, whose hair was perfectly coiffed, her makeup maybe a little heavy, if we could help her unload. She thanked us and when we were finished, she said, “Merry Christmas. I still say that.”
 
We responded in kind and I added, “You always could.”
 
I realized at the time it might have sounded to her ears as though I was saying, “Back in the good ol’ days, that’s what we all said!” but what I meant was, “No one says you can’t, honey. That’s just made-up garbage to help you hate people who might have different beliefs from yours.”
 
At least, that’s what I thought at the time.
 
My sister works for a very large multi-national retailer, famous for paying its employees so little that they have to use the food bank to which shoppers donate within their stores. (That job, it seems, is about to become another line in the history of employment on her résumé, thank goodness.) When I posted my opinion on the bogus War on Christmas, she informed me that her store told employees only to say Happy Holidays and not Merry Christmas.
 
I find that hard to believe, but I guess if she says so, it’s true. It’s also sad. I think that whatever anyone wishes you, if it’s said in the spirit of kindness and goodwill, it should be allowed. I suppose store employees should have to stick with whatever is most widely acceptable to everyone, but honestly, if someone wished me a Happy Hannukah (and I’m not Jewish) I would say thank you and wish the same thing back. I don’t have any problem with people just being nice no matter what time of year it is! Isn’t it all about the “thought that counts?”
 
For another, much more pointed blog on the War on Christmas, you definitely want to read John Pavolovitz‘s take on it. This guy’s goooooood. 
 
Talk to you here tomorrow.
 

Yep – it’s Black Friday here in the US, or as my dad calls it, “those Excited States.” (I know he didn’t make that up, but like his #3 daughter, he knows a good joke when he steals one!)
 
Although there are some for whom this day and its bargain hunting are a true annual highlight, both in the US and other places that have adopted the Black Friday hype, you won’t find me anywhere near a store. For one thing, I avoid crowds wherever possible; even though I love appearing before one, I’d rather not be in one. Analyze that, why doncha! But since for some this officially kicks off the Christmas shopping season, I thought I’d begin a Friday tradition from here until the big day arrives. Why? Why not, right?
 
During that busy stretch of work earlier this month, I had a day of coffee and laptop time and I was watching The View. It was Whoopi’s 63rd birthday and she celebrated it with abandon and reminded us that everyone should, in honour of those who didn’t and don’t get the opportunity to do just that. At the end of the show, in what was clearly an advertiser sponsored thing, she presented her “Favorite Things,” taking a page from Oprah.
 
I always loved to read about Oprah’s favs in her magazine. Almost all of them were either unaffordable or impractical things that didn’t pertain to my life (how many picnic baskets does one need, anyway?) but I saw Whoopi plug something that reminded me how much I love mine. Mind you, I haven’t used it since December 2016, when I no longer had to get up regularly before the sun. But with these short cold days and Christmas coming, how could I not remind you that this might well be on your list of favourite things when it comes to asking Santa this year? Here’s what I wrote about it in the past. And by the way, mine is distinctly not advertiser-sponsored.

A doctor friend recommended – for purposes of fighting depression and getting seratonin working in the early morning dark – getting one of these.  

 

The whole idea is to awaken in an already lit room, as though one was getting up at sunrise, as nature intended. The light gradually gets brighter and brighter until it’s fully on, and you can even accompany the light with bird sounds, gentle rain or water sound effects (uh, no…) or new age music.
 
It works beautifully…we have managed to awaken gently to our light alarm yesterday and today by setting it to begin 15 minutes before the time we want to get up. That means that at 3:30, the pitch black room begins to brighten. Then at 3:45 our other alarms (two phones, two stereos and a clock radio) all go off. By 4:00, when the hot lemon juice has been downed and the espresso enjoyed, I’m well into my pre-show Twitter scan and the room is bright.
 
I think…I think…I’m wider awake these days thanks to the illumination that tricks my little brain into thinking that the sun is up. I’m going to keep at this. But what I also need is for it to brighten up at 5pm when our afternoon nap is over – because it’s dark then, too!
 
Ah, morning hours. Best time to be on the radio (for me), no question, but oh, the challenges. Luckily, you make it worthwhile. 

There you go – from a journal originally published five years ago. I can’t tell you how much I wished I’d had one decades earlier to help me with those crazy early hours. I still have one of these lights in my closet at home; the other (the one I bought for the even earlier cottage-to-work mornings) went to my friend Lisa who, having just left radio mornings in London, Ontario to live a reWired life, may well be passing hers on to someone else who works the pre-dawn hours.
 
If you have someone on your gift list who gets up early and maybe even struggles with Seasonal Affective Disorder, this may well be what you’re looking for. Or get it for yourself and you’ll be grateful every work morning.
 
Sweet dreams and have a great weekend. By the way, next week’s Friday Favourite is another cool product designed to help you sleep those golden slumbers. Hmmm…seems like a bit of a theme, doesn’t it?
 

Hey – set the PVR (or as they call it down here, the DVR) and get set for the big Thanksgiving Day Parade, if you have little people to share it with.
 
Yes, it’s a holiday down here in the US and we have a sort of Turkey Wellington ready to go, along with a sweet potato pie that pal Lisa and husband Derek brought when they arrived here on Sunday. We’ll pair it with some whipped cream (unless it’s a side dish as opposed to dessert). All I know is that it’s Patti LaBelle’s own brand and recipe and it’s something obscene like 400 calories for an eighth of the pie, so…it’s going to be sweet, all right. 
 

 
Having Lisa and Derek here (from London, Ontario, where she’s just made the same leap out of radio that I did two years ago) has made us try to find our bearings really quickly. Just as doing a radio show in Victoria for nine months after we moved there made me figure out in a hurry where we were and what end was “up” (so that I could talk on the air about local things going on), having company has made us find interesting places to see and things to do.
 
It helps a lot when you have local knowledge and it turns out that our friends worked with a woman years ago who now calls Palm Springs home. She sent a list of things to do and see and restaurant recommendations, too, so we set out to cross a couple of those items off the list.
 
We sauntered up and down El Paseo, which is neighbouring Palm Desert’s answer to posh Rodeo Drive. While we didn’t buy anything, Rob and Derek spent time in a Tesla showroom, we moseyed through a few stores and Lisa clowned around with one of the whimsical artistic renderings that line the streets. We call this one, “Is there someone in my nose?” 
 

 
Then we set the GPS to go to 1077 E Granvia Valmonte. It’s a house – or we assume there’s a house somewhere in there – set in the old Movie Colony section of Palm Springs once called home by such old time luminaries as Liberace and Dean Martin.
 
What’s at 1077 E Granvia Valmonte? Well, it’s a unique Palm Springs holiday attraction known as Robolights. We’ve all seen homes that go all out during the holidays. But this? This is something else. It has its own Facebook account and website. It’s on Tripadvisor. And I have concocted my own story of how it came to be: the son or daughter of a rich Hollywood legend (now departed), was left this enormous property and decided to indulge in their passion of turning discarded items like old TVs, monitors or microwaves into creatures. Don’t believe me?
 

 
Many of these Frankenstein’s creations move, too, like the monstrously-sized rabbit here riding the grocery store motorcycle.
 

 
It’s the stuff that a Stephen King novel is made of, I swear to you. Of course, some of it gets downright Christmassy and it’s going to be open to the public for donations anyday now…
 

 
Even this shot from a distance doesn’t capture the sheer enormity of this contemporary art installment now in its 30th year! There are more than 8.4 million lights on some four acres.
 

 
A man in his 60s out walking his dog just kind of shook his head and rolled his eyes when we asked what he thought of it. We’re not the only ones who had to come and take a look – a local news crew was on the scene as well. And undoubtedly the crowds will grow exponentially as the holidays approach.
 

 
The real story behind Robolights can be found on its Facebook page. It is described as “the largest residential light display in the country created by artist Kenny Irwin” who is, as it turns out, a Muslim who doesn’t mark the Christian holidays but who certainly makes them memorable for many. 
 
The Desert Sun news website describes it as “beloved by some but a nuisance to others.” There were attorneys working on its behalf (and it did open for the first time this year yesterday) and next year Mr. Irwin has to agree to put the exhibit at a commercial location instead of in this otherwise bucolic neighbourhood. Here’s the view down the street.
 

 
Now that you’ve seen Robolights, who needs that Macy’s parade today anyway, right?
 
Have a great one and tomorrow I’m going to start a Friday tradition from here to Christmas – and I may just help you with a gift idea or two, who knows?
 

I’ve a movie review for you today, but honestly – what fun cinema experience doesn’t include a trip first to the snack bar?
 
I can’t lie – I’m a popcorn piggie. To be fair, I might not have a choice: it could well come from deep-seated emotional issues. When I was a kid, when all of us kids were either out or tucked into bed for the night, I could hear the telltale sounds and smell the irresistable aroma of popcorn emanating from the kitchen. Alone for so many nights while Dad was away in his job as an armed forces officer, Mom would enjoy some TV and a bowl of stove-popped corn.
 
To this day, even though we have a domed rotary popper and it does the job well, my favourite way is to use a pot on the stove with the lid off just slightly so that the kernels don’t escape, but the steam does. I’ve got it down to an art, if I do say so myself.
 
Popcorn memories go back even further in our family: when we’d visit my grandparents at their small home in Alberta, Gram would make – or better still, let us make – popcorn in a flat square black metal basket on a long stick on the stove. There was an iron plate over the gas burner and with just the right wrist action, you’d end up with the perfect basket of corn. 
 
So it’s no surprise that when we go to the movies as we did this past Monday, popcorn is one of the big stars. Our friends Lisa Brandt and her husband Derek Botten are here from London, Ontario and we all wanted to see Bohemian Rhapsody.
 
What a great surprise when we got to the concessions counter. Rather than let each person order a large popcorn, the guy serving us gave us our free refill of popcorn on the spot! That was mighty nice of him. So we all ended up with a colossal popcorn (and leftovers to take home – instead of the usual three or four that end up in my bra). Fortunately, the snacks were not the highlight of the night.
 

 

 
A box office leader when it came out earlier this month, Bohemian Rhapsody offers a master class in casting. Rami Malek plays Freddie Mercury deftly and believably, although to be very honest, until Mercury matures and eventually grows a moustache, Malek’s prosthetic overbite is really distracting. The protruding front teeth (caused by four extra teeth in the back of the singer’s mouth) feature so prominently in Malek’s portrayal that they take away from the character, in the opinion of everyone in our party.
 
But that’s really the only thing that detracted from the film, besides the licence taken with the timing of such events as Freddie’s departure from the group and his AIDS diagnosis. The latter is used as a way to add dramatic and emotional heft to the band’s Live Aid performance in the summer of 1985, although it’s believed Queen’s lead singer didn’t get the terrible news for another year or two. 
 
Still, the performances are spectacular. Malek shares vocal duties with Canadian Marc Martell as well as actual Freddie Mercury tracks. It’s seamless and enthralling. My pal Lisa spent the second half of the film in tears.
 
Me? I was remembering seeing lead guitarist and Queen co-founder Brian May in person. It was during a special milestone performance of We Will Rock You and I was invited by Mirvish Productions to see the show. I set aside concerns about my usual early alarm and invited our producer Ian MacArthur to come with me. You can imagine the surprise we both experienced when, during “Bohemian Rhapsody,” Brian May himself stepped out to play the incredible solos we’d come to love in the original recording.
 
As we stood screaming, tears poured down my face. It remains one of the highlights of my life. I wish I’d seen Freddie, who died in November of 1991, live, but for now, I hope you’ll get a chance to see this film that takes you from the band’s early days to their soaring performance at Live Aid. If you’re like me, you’ll be amazed at the depth and heart of this band’s incredible songbook and of Freddie Mercury’s musical legacy. A real winner.
 
I’ll be back with you here tomorrow.
 

How about some coffee talk today? You know that when it comes to that ol’ black magic, I’m really serious. How serious? Let me give you a few examples: Rob actually packed a cappuccino/espresso machine in the car as he drove down to California where we’re staying for a few months.
 
And that’s not all: these were in my suitcase for those 16 days on the road this month.
 

 
Yes, indeed, four kinds of coffee – all ready for whatever brewing system the hotel room offered. It seems that I went to a lot of trouble, and you’re right, I did, but it’s such a shame to have two people, two coffee pods and that’s it. Who exactly gets by on just one coffee? (No show of hands necessary – that’s okay.) 
 
Last week, during my final chance to introduce Michele Romanow of Dragons’ Den on CBC, I thought I’d play up my small addiction. I pulled out of a bag all four of those coffee pods/bags and said I had an idea for an invention: an app that would tell travellers just what kind of coffeemaker is in a hotel’s rooms. She asked me from the floor, “Wait, don’t they have coffee in the rooms?” And I answered that of course they did, but there was never enough!
 
Now, to be fair, Michele doesn’t drink coffee; if she has a tea at lunch, she’s still buzzing by evening. (Lightweight!) But I think there’s merit to it, if the logistics weren’t so darned daunting.
 
I mean, I will go on a hotel’s website or look up on TripAdvisor to see if any mention is made of a coffeemaker. I love just to sit in bed (if our schedules allow) and sip on a coffee or two or three before we get our day going. Luckily, last week for the Nespresso in the room, I was able to pad out to the hall in my robe and slippers and ask Karen in housekeeping if she could give me some more. She filled a bag with them and ensured a big tip on the spot – and when I left!
 
I told Michele I would let her in on it for only five million dollars. And since there’d been a story about her and her life/business partner having secured $70 million for Clearbanc loans (it was in the Globe and Mail Monday, November 12) I thought it would be a no-brainer, right?
 
Well, clearly, Michele thought my idea was a bit of the same. Only I was the no-brainer and we had a big laugh. By the way, Michele says people come up to her with ideas all the time. Come to think of it, I bet Simon Cowell gets sung at in airports, for that matter. One of the hazards of being in the business of discovering, I guess.
 
Although I would totally use that hotel coffee maker app, I just don’t know how to make it happen. (Perhaps I could get TripAdvisor or SeatGuru to look at it…CoffeeGuru?) I could come down from my five million…do I hear four? Okay, three, but that’s my final offer!
 
Have a good one and we’ll be back with you here tomorrow.