Tag Archives: NCIS

The Sound of Silence

Back when I was an undergrad my first poetry professor would organize various readings by published poets.  One of my favorites was E.A. (Tony) Mares. Most new poets know when giving a reading there’s always a chance they might fall into the “poetry voice.”  A lot of us try to use a different cadence for each poem, emphasizes specific pauses, or draw out a line. Sometimes we’re overcome with nerves and we return to our safety net.  As a result a lot of poems sound the same, and the audience gets bored. Granted there are some poets who use “poetry voice” because they think it makes the poems sound more interesting. If you ever meet a poet who does this, feel free to smack them Gibbs style.  Or you could also make fun of them by reading random things (the menu at IHop, the back of a cereal box, etc…) like they would read one of their pieces.

If you would like to encounter a poet who doesn’t use poetry voice, go see Mr. Mares.  It’s been almost 6 years since I attended his reading and I still can’t get it out of my mind. It was entertaining, each poem brought something new.  One  moment the audience felt like he was telling a joke, and during the next they were  reaching for a tissue.

In light of recent events I would like to share a poem he wrote about the loss of a daughter. I think there are so many great things working within this poem that really capture the speaker’s pain, and show the emptiness that is now in his life.

Crestview Funeral Home

Wrapped in white linen and your prayer shawl,
you travel well, my child,
my silent voyager into the unknown.
The service, traditional, simple,
flows with a dignified drone
for you, my most untraditional daughter.

As the prayers rise and fall,
images come back from a happier time
before this coffin of unvarnished pine,
pegged and with no nails.

Like a burning man in a sea of fire
I grab on to a plank of memory.
recall you and your sisters
traveling with me when I acted
on make-do stages everywhere in New Mexico.

We bounced along two-lane blacktops,
munched down burgers on the run.
Stayed in cheap motels in Raton,
Socorro, Roy, Ruidoso, Taos.
We loved the anarchy of life on the road.

There was that time on the Canadian
I stared down a bull,
mooed to him from the safety of the car.
“Dad, we’d better go,” you said
with those large, luminous, olive eyes.

I remember that time in Ruidoso
the conversation-starved man
followed us off the stage.

Stuck his head in the car window
and talked as I quietly slipped into gear,
waved goodbye, then slowly drove away
and he never stopped talking.
We laughed for hours over that.

The thin plank of memory smolders, then burns.
I swim on fire back to the prayers,
the service about to end.
This summing up of my daughter’s life.

Oh how I want to grab you and run, Galit.
I want to go on the road with you again,
play all those towns once more.
Drive, drive on forever into the sun.

– E.A. Mares, 2004

I’m holding out for a shero.

During the holiday season I re-watched the first and second seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Back in the day I was a huge Buffy fan. Actually I was a fan of any woman who could kick ass and save the world. Recently I was discussing Buffy with an acquaintance, when she complained about the lack of heroines on television today.  I pointed out that Ziva David from NCIS was a powerful woman.  She argued that Ziva often acts “like one of the guys,” and therefore wasn’t a good example of a modern-day shero.

Unfortunately the conversation ended soon after, so I couldn’t really explore her statement. I started wondering if our heroines need to be “girly” in order to be role models. Is being “one of the guys” some how admitting that femininity is weak? Can a heroine be extremely feminine,  have mostly masculine qualities, or is she easier to relate to if she has a mixture of the two?

I look back at Buffy, who throughout the show epitomized the idea of a girly girl. Joss Whendon admits that he based the character of Buffy on the idea of the hyper-feminine girl in the horror film who ends up being killed by the monster/serial killer. He decided he wanted to turn that idea around, have the girl fight back, and even defeat the big bad.

When we meet Buffy, she’s not exactly the girl we would pick as our crime fighter(if only the title hadn’t given her away). She’s not a dominant force like Xena traipsing through Greece in a leather ensemble with a metal breast-plate, and a multitude of weapons.  Nor is she Wonder Woman, transforming from unassuming girl with a day job into costumed female capable of heroic feats.  No, Buffy enjoys cheer-leading, she’s stylish, she cares about breaking a nail and she’s boy crazy. To bring the point home, in the first season finale she killed the Master in her prom dress (and heels).

At the time of Buffy‘s début, it was refreshing to see someone with her characteristics fighting the forces of evil.  However, there were multiple times when Buffy represented negative qualities  associated with being female. Take her romantic relationships, whenever she started seeing someone new, she was willing to sacrifice her friends (to a dangerous extent) in order to have a boyfriend. In the second season after her vampire boyfriend loses his soul and goes on killing spree, she wants to restore his soul primarily so she can get her boyfriend back. This pattern is later repeated in her relationships with Riley and Spike. She’s occasionally called on it, but never really hones in on the actual problem. Buffy takes the criticism as  her friends being jealous they can’t spend time with her, instead of what it really is; she makes bad choices so she can keep her “steady.”  In fact it’s rare (after the 1st season)to see Buffy happy when she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I understand this  makes Buffy a flawed character(and therefore accessible) but she never really learns, or grows as a person in that respect. So while it’s great that she can defend herself from a gang of vamps, her sense of self leaves a lot to be desired.

Ziva has also made bad decisions when her love life became entangled with her work. Take the fiasco with Michael, she repeatedly ignored Tony’s concern that Michael wasn’t who he appeared to be (which apparently was a rogue Mossad Officer). However, Ziva had to come to terms with her big mistake.

I suppose in some respect I can understand how my acquaintance found Ziva to be less feminine than other heroines; she is rarely openly emotional (but I don’t know many women who would want to be in the workplace), and isn’t easily shocked by DiNozzo’s pervy comments/behavior (which usually ends with her making fun of him).  Granted I don’t think this makes her any less of a woman, instead it acts as a reflection how woman have evolved socially throughout the decade.  Just because she and Tony bond over Maxim, doesn’t mean she can’t have “girl talk” with Abby. When it comes to her fighting ability and being able to handle dangerous situations, these characteristics do not come into play. So does it make her less of heroine because she prefers trousers over dresses? I seriously doubt it.

At the end of the day, there are still plenty of independent women being represented on television. There’s one gem I suggest you look up, Castle‘s Kate Beckett. She’s pretty much everything you could want in a shero; she’s smart, funny, observant, compassionate, capable of taking care of herself (and others), she makes mistakes, and learns from them.  As for the superficial side of things…she’s one hot–stylish mofo.