Ah! Saint Celia! When she starts to sing, the heavens open up.

Don’t believe me? Well, go get some of her music and see what happens. I don’t care what mood you’re in, Celia Cruz can get you to get up and start shaking your body to the music. Her career spanned decades and all through her amazing time on stage, she got people to move in their hearts and minds. Whether calypso, cumbia, or salsa, Celia mastered the rhythm and the melody and made her voice do amazing things.

Above all is the happiness in her singing. There’s an upbeat, lively, bring it on quality in her voice that, no matter what, speaks to the joy to be had in every moment, even the painful ones – for they are still moments we live. And, no matter the pain, a touch of Celia can make the clouds pass and the tropical fruit stands appear.

So, go and find Celia and know what she meant when she said, “¡Azúcar!”

Seems ironic to consider the song “O Death” as a reason to live, but it’s the honest truth. The great Ralph Stanley has a voice and a presence that has earned him the title “The Godfather of Bluegrass.” I first heard this song in the film O Brother! Where Art Thou? and had to know more about it.

Once I found it, I discovered Dr. Stanley had sung just about every song from the soundtrack of that film and relished each of his recordings. But, always, I came back to the chilling a capella of “O Death.” The YouTube version I’ve linked has excellent sound quality, and with a voice like Stanley’s, nothing less than excellent will do.

Should Death spare me over for another year, I shall listen to this song at least once more. This song is one for the ages: it truly transcends time, age, and genre.

I’m not posting this to try to convert anyone as much as I am to put forward something that always makes me proud to be who I am and prouder still of who went before me. My ancestors sang these words as they crossed the plains, even after burying those family members who died before their journey was through. I chose this hymn for my son Jarom’s funeral and I will want it sung at mine. It is a song that epitomizes what it means to do what we all must do – endure to the end with patience, hope, and joy. Even in our sorrows, all is well. All is well.

I love steampunk. Science fiction without flash and flare, but grunge and grease. Films that sweat through some incredible stories and leave you fantasizing about living in that world. One of those films is the excellent, if extremely offbeat, Russian sci-fi classics, Кин-Дза-Дза (Kin Dza Dza). The film starts here… You’ll have to see it in segments, and I strongly recommend downloading them with Tubesucker, which I use to save up YouTube clips, especially ones I really enjoy. You never know when a video’s gonna get yanked or an account suspended, so save what you can when you can.

If you liked the Jawas in Star Wars and wished the rest of the movie was more like that, this is the film for you. What I find fascinating is that hardly any of the sets were fabricated for the film. Rather, they were found among the ruins of abandoned installations in Soviet Central Asia. The characters from Earth are totally earthly in their aspects. The aliens are truly inhuman in their culture, without any Star Wars or Trek makeup to tell you they’re alien. They accomplish their otherworldliness through a dash of wardrobe, but even more so through their dialogue and actions. Of course, in their alien nature, they serve to reflect back on humanity something of what it means to be human. The ending is completely justified and satisfying. I love this film, even though I know it’s an odd beast not everyone will appreciate.

They’re just flat-out awesome. Great harmonies, soulful sounds, strong lyrics… they know how to do it right. If you’re alive, you can always enjoy an O’Jays song one more time. Go get you some O’Jays if you don’t have any on you right now.

Go to Mexicali at the intersection of Northwest Highway and Jupiter – it’s just west of the Lowe’s – and see where I’ve been keeping clean for the last 18 years, two years less than it’s been in business. I remember when it used to be over by the Casa Linda library and how my heart sank when it wasn’t there one day… and when my heart leapt as I discovered it had moved closer to me.

Whenever I go away for a while, I come home to Mexicali. I don’t eat there because it’s the best food in the world. I eat there because it is home, and therefore the world to which I return. No matter what fantastic things I taste abroad, I come home to lunch combo #6 and then I know I’m home. Nobody else makes the Tex-Mex like they do at Mexicali. There are plenty of great ones, sure. But nobody makes it like they do and they make it great. They’re part of the treasures around my house, part of the world I call home.

First of all, thank you to LinkTV for showing this series. Because AT&T U-Verse doesn’t carry LinkTV, I’m not switching from Dish satellite to U-Verse no matter how much they beg me and offer me free HBO to do so. But this is not about LinkTV right now. That’s for another column for me to write.

This one’s about Arab Labor. This is, by far, one of the best sitcoms I’ve ever seen. It’s right up there with Yes Minister, Fawlty Towers, and Seinfeld. I just ordered season one on DVD. I plan to watch it repeatedly and to find a way to use it in class.

Some people complain about having to read subtitles, but I say it’s worth the effort when something’s really really good. Arab Labor is in Hebrew and Arabic with only smatterings of Russian and English, but it’s really really good, so it’s worth reading. It takes elements from classic comedies and reworks them in original plots set in Israel. The center of the series is Amjad, an Arab journalist who’s very loyal to Israel, even though he often gets hassled for being a minority. Like Seinfeld, Arab Labor doesn’t have the characters learning big lessons or hugging each other at the end of the episodes. They carry on being who they are, flaws and all, but they all work at accommodating each other.

To a point. I mean, there’s the episode where Amjad turns over his meddling mother-in-law to the police as a suspected terrorist. Or when Amjad’s Jewish friend tries to hide the fact that he’s dating an Arab from his not-too-liberal parents. Then there’s where Amjad’s father sells the Chametz on eBay. OK, so you may have to Google up a few terms in order to get the jokes, but it’s worth it. After all, one theme in the comedy is the difficulty of coming to an understanding between cultures, so why not participate and do a little research. There’s one gag in the season finale that involves knowing the history of Zionism, but if you read up on Theodore Herzl before you watch it, you’ll hit the comedy jackpot when you hear that punchline.

Even if you’re not up on your history, you can still enjoy the sheer joy of the comic apocalypses that Amjad and his family find themselves in. Amjad’s father is my favorite character, a sort of Archie Bunker/Fred G. Sanford type of unstoppable patriarch who never lets ethics get in the way of a business deal. Amjad himself is an Arab Woody Allen, totally uncomfortable in his own skin. Amjad’s wife is his opposite: well-grounded and someone who can accept herself for who she is. She’s Amjad’s link to reality. Their daughter is not the usual precocious TV brat: she’s very well behaved, but takes after her foxy grandpa in subtly getting her way when her father goes nuts. Amjad’s Israeli friend is a schlemiel trying to do good that doesn’t care if he’s barking up the wrong tree, so long as there’s love in the branches. His on-again, off-again girlfriend is an Arab lawyer that manages to carry on a verbally violent relationship with him. Even when they’re at peace with each other, there’s never a relaxation in the tension in the relationship, which means the comedy won’t stop with that pair. If they got married, the series would not jump the shark.

Heck, the writing’s so good, they even took on another possible bad turn: the birth of a baby. In the finale, Amjad’s wife has a son. In most sitcoms, that’s the kiss of death. In Arab Labor, it’s a gateway for more comic possibilities.

Watch this show, people. It’s totally worth it.

Went to see Ponyo today and had all my expectations met.

When I go to see a Miyazaki film, I expect nothing short of excellence. I’ve seen all his films except Howl’s Moving Castle, but I’ve ordered that just now on DVD. Although Ponyo does not share the same complex characters and situations as other Miyazaki works, it is a masterpiece, instantly accessible to children from pre-K on up to adulthood. It is the most accessible movie for little children, I think, surpassing Totoro in that category. The dividing line is simple: In Totoro, the mom is sick. In Ponyo, there’s nothing bad going on in the background. Not really. The grownups do seem to be involved in some serious matters, but those matters pale to what the children in the movie see.

What’s important to the kids in the movie is love. Nothing romantic: just a pure attachment of affection, innocent and free. I love that. As usual, Miyazaki and the rest of Studio Ghibli chose the right colors for the film. What I enjoyed especially is that instead of using his typical ligne claire style with flat colors (pardon my French, there…), he opted for more impressionistic backgrounds, adding a lovely storybook feel to the whole film.

The schools of fish and other water animals have to be considered as part of the cast of stars in the film. I loved watching them. While Pixar had a clever little aquarium and some nice fish scenes in Finding Nemo, Miyazaki’s underwater images will make me dream about living in an octopus’ garden tonight.

As I said, this is a storybook movie. The conflict is gentle; the resolution firm and joyous. The colors resound and the illustrations capture your breath and refuse to let go until the closing credits fade from view. I wept with joy as I watched the film, much as I do when I listen to Beethoven’s Pastoral symphony. Yes, the comparison to Beethoven is valid. Miyazaki is a genius and we are fortunate that he’s been given a forum to share his visions with a worldwide audience. Although the film is a beautiful storybook, it is not for everyone. I’m sorry, but it’s a sensitive film and there isn’t a crass joke anywhere in it. Kids looking for bathroom humor or crazy send-ups are not going to be happy with Ponyo. This film is for sensitive moods and open minds. For a child, it’s a wonderful, beautiful story. For an adult, there are subtleties that will pop up later on when discussing it with other adults. It is universal and it is wonderful. I don’t care if you see it: I’ve seen it and I found another reason to keep on keepin’ on today.

Part One
Part Two

First off, it’s a Top Gear road trip. Brilliant.

Second, it’s in Vietnam. I already wanted to go there. These videos made me start checking out airfares to Saigon. Until then, I’ll just keep visiting Vietnamese restaurants wherever I go.