Joanne C. Gerstner

– Here’s my latest work in the New York Times, to the Rings blog: having a lot of fun with the blog.
– Seeing a huge difference between Top Chef and Project Runway, two of my favorite shows. Simply, talent. Project Runway has been blah, blah, blah this season. Top Chef has been great. Very simple reason: talent level. Project Runway has been low this season, both in personality and quality. I haven’t seen any designer, such as a Kara Saun or outrageous Santino, that I thought wow – that is cool. Nothing really has been cool this season. And the designers haven’t been interesting either. Meanwhile, on Top Chef…wow. Amazingly talented chefs. Very interesting food. Some compelling personalities. And lo and behold….there is compelling TV each week. I knew I was over PR when I missed it one week and didn’t even wonder what had happened. Top Chef isn’t the same. I need to know what happened.

yes, I know somewhere Andre Agassi probably would like to fire a down the line backhand at me for even mentioning that infamous phrase. But live with it, Dre.

I ripped through his new book, “Open”, over the weekend and recommend it as an interesting read. Andre worked with a ghost writer, so I don’t know how much to credit the good prose to him or to the scribe. Who ever wrote what did a nice job.

It’s got enough tennis dirt to make the geeks like me happy. For those who aren’t fuzz heads, there should be enough in there to make them happy too.

Bottom line: Andre is lucky he survived his own self-destructive nature, and his dad’s cruelty, to become a productive member of society. Michael Chang, Jeff Tarango, Nick Bollitteri, Jommy Connors, Dad Agassi are not portrayed well in this book. Hopefully Benedicte Tarango doesn’t come to Vegas to hunt Andre down (inside tennis joke.)

I grew up loving watching Agassi play. I wanted to play like him and McEnroe – go for broke, rip your groundies, and get to net and take care of business (obviously the Johnny Mac forte).

What people don’t realize is that immense talents often come with deep wounds. Some of the most amazing athletes I know have been the most depressed or insecure people. It’s like the curse of the gift. Agassi was certainly there, and thankfully, he got his life together by finding people that loved him for more than his skills on the court.

Some are freaking out over his crystal meth revelation. I’m surprised he toyed with such a dangerous drug, but not shocked he tried something to ease his pain. Thank God it didn’t destroy his life.

Here’s my latest story on teamusa.org, the U.S. Olympic Committee’s official site, on speedskater J.R. Celski making a comeback timed for Vancouver.

A good friend, who I will call Zorro, has a running debate with me: why is figure skating a sport? He contends that anything with sequins, flaming gay guys (not that there’s anything wrong with that), and corrupt judges can’t be a legit sport.

To which I say – phooey. Yes, skating has had it’s share of drama, to which a steel cage match may well have been the best way to solve things. But you try skating all out for 4 minutes, doing triple and quad jumps, throw in some spins and tricky footwork, make sure your landings are clean, your toes are pointed, your hands are in the correct position, and of course – show the correct emotion to act out the music. Not so easy, huh?

Skating has athletic power, grace, art, and sequins. The judging is suspect, without a doubt. I am a skating fan and I still am trying to boil down the new judging system into one sentence for the outside world.

So I say, Zorro, my pal, give skating a chance over the next few months. I think it will hook you. It’s better than watching the Lions get emasculated in their macho uniforms. Maybe they need to add some sequins to change their mojo.

I am now a contributor to the New York Times’ Olympics blog, called The Rings. The NYT does a lovely job covering the Games and I am thrilled to be part of the blogging crew!

Some scary news out today about the crazy drop in circulation at nearly ever paper that matters in the U.S. The numbers are damned scary.

I find it interesting, being in the free world, talking to people who know I used to work for a newspaper. First they ask why the paper is so skinny. Then (here in Detroit), they ask why they can’t get it delivered to their house. Then I am asked why there is nothing they want to read in the paper.

In return, I ask them back why they’re not on the websites (age or they don’t like reading papers on the web), and what they think papers should do to get more readers back.

There is no simple answer. Some people just don’t want to wait around for a newspaper in any form – web or print. They want the info now, popped into their iPhone or blackberry. Newspapers, through all the staff cutbacks and budget slashing can’t be all things to all people, so for example in sports, when you stop covering Olympic sports, tennis and other stuff, people are going to stop coming to you. And people are tired of sports being talk radio. They’re coming to a newspaper for substance, to cut through the opinion. Have a take, but make it intelligent, expert. Any idiot can call up a show. Hopefully the person in front of the keyboard for a paper has more knowledge going on. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. And people KNOW the difference.

The son of famed Chicago Tribune columnist Mike Royko is in the headlines, but not for the same reason as his dad: he was sentenced to 30 months in prison for attempted bank robbery. Oh man. very sad indeed.

I can’t say it’s a surprise that the Shock announced their departure for Tulsa. The WNBA is a troubled product, and the financial woes of Metro Detroit ain’t helping.

Here’s a great column from my friend Mechelle Voepel on the subject: it’s sad but true.

well…after two months in law school, I made a big decision. I’m done. No, I didn’t take an express course to be a lawyer. I’m not going to be a lawyer. It’s not in my heart and soul. I forced myself to go to school every day and slog through the material. Nothing inspired me. And worse yet, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t even curious. I just didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me. The profs were great. It wasn’t them, it was me. I started getting physically ill from this. So I did a lot of thinking: why am I doing this, if I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to be a lawyer. I am not collecting a JD degree and taking the bar to say I did it. That’s not me.

So I got honest and pulled the plug. I feel so relieved. Truly like a weight off of me. I am open to what life has in store for me. I have worked hard. I have my master’s degree. And that’s good enough for now.

I want to thank Wayne Law, my great professors, and the wonderful people I met there. I wish you nothing but the best.

And to my friends and family, your support means more than you will ever know. I do not take your love and belief in me lightly. It has kept my spirits going through these past few months.

If I can survive blowing my knee out, then law school, and making this decision, I can do anything!

(and my email door is open for writing/teaching/ you name it opportunities…hit me up! I am game!)

love and peace to all…. jcg
I am back in the real world. I have some projects I am working on, and I am excited about my future. I am a writer, editor, journalist and a teacher. There is a lot to be said for what makes me happy.

Here I am, worrying about preparing correctly and well for my first big test in law school – Friday’s property law midterm. I decided to go to a coffee shop to study for a bit, get out of the house. And what do I see driving to Caribou? Two visually impaired people, out for a walk. it was a cool thing to witness. they had their white walking sticks in their outside hands, and held hands with their inside ones. Made me pause, after I saw the big smiles on their faces. They were happy to be in the moment.

And I need to be the same. Happy to be alive, happy to have a healing knee, grateful for my family, friends and kitties, and take things as they come.