Latest news with #Alec
Daily Tribune
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Tribune
Shia LaBeouf ‘lived in a park'
Bang Showbiz | Los Angeles Shia LaBeouf spent months 'living in the park' while preparing for a Broadway role. The 38-year-old actor has reflected on the turbulent time he had with Alec Baldwin when they were due to star together in 'Orphans' in 2013, and he's admitted he was 'not in a good way' at the time, spending his nights in Central Park. He told The Hollywood Reporter: 'When [Alec] came in, I'm living in the park and I'm on steroids and I'm not in a good way... 'I was sleeping in Central Park. They keep horses there at this little fire basin. And there's a whole lot of room around there where you can just chill. You got to move every three or four hours and the guy comes around, but you can spend most of your time there.' He then clarified: 'For most of the prep.' Shia - who eventually left the production due to the tensions - had originally been due to star in 'Orphans' with Al Pacino, but the 'Godfather' star dropped out close to opening night, leaving him feeling 'insecure' and 'desperate' to impress his new co-star, but Alec got 'competitive' and things became 'contentious'. He said: 'By the time Baldwin got there, it was almost unfair. So he's dealing with both my fractured little weak ego, right? All this hard prep that I'd done for two years, and my desperate need to show him all my prep, or that he would accept me somehow. I was so insecure.'
Los Angeles Times
4 days ago
- General
- Los Angeles Times
Column: How United Sound is removing barriers in music
Music has long been a universal language, bringing individuals together with their diverse cultures, abilities, and backgrounds. However, students with disabilities have often found themselves faced with barriers from participating in ensembles. Today, United Sound is bringing a change to this reality. With over 12,000 students across the nation, the nonprofit organization is dedicated to providing musical opportunities for students with disabilities and is helping change the narrative. At United Sound, new musicians are partnered with peer mentors in school music programs to work through a specialized curriculum and learn how to play an instrument. The program challenges outdated notions that individuals with disabilities cannot excel at or engage in music by removing traditional barriers to participation. Through a carefully structured curriculum made up of a United Sound Method Book and flashcards, musical concepts are made easier to grasp for new student learners through the use of food and colors, transforming abstract concepts into music. United Sound strives to focus on the participation and joy that students will be able to experience rather than perfection. The implementation of the United Sound program in over 30 different states allows students of all abilities to celebrate each other's musical achievements today. As a peer mentor for United Sound, I can confidently say that it is a program that offers valuable experiences to both the student mentor and mentee. I had the privilege of being able to mentor multiple different students throughout my time in the program, and was able to quickly realize that every student learned in their own unique way, requiring different approaches to support and guidance. My first peer mentee, Alec, whom I was able to teach the marimba to, allowed me to learn about the power of patience and adaptability in teaching. Although there were times I deemed it difficult to communicate my teaching to Alec, I did not give up because I knew that for Alec to become a great musician, he needed to have a mentor with a strong mindset. Watching Alec progress from struggling to hold two mallets to confidently playing an entire piece showed me that growth was reliant on the effort of both the student mentee and mentor. Each note that was missed became a stepping stone toward comprehension, and every diversion became a chance for refocus and redirection. The marimba, once an intimidating task, became a medium for Alec to express himself. United Sound's mission is a reminder that music is about the possibilities, not the limitations. As the program expands across the country, it demonstrates that all students can make a mark in the world of music, regardless of their ability. Related
Time of India
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Alec Baldwin tears up while opening gifts with kids on special occasion
Hollywood actor Alec Baldwin celebrated Father's Day in a very special way. The proud father of eight, 67, became emotional while opening gifts with his family, as seen in an Instagram video shared by his wife, Hilaria Baldwin. Hollywood actor Alec Baldwin celebrated Father's Day in a very special way. The proud father of eight, 67, became emotional while opening gifts with his family, as seen in an Instagram video shared by his wife, Hilaria Baldwin. The couple share seven children together, daughters Ilaria Catalina Irena, 2; Maria Lucia Victoria, 4; and Carmen Gabriela, 11, as well as sons Eduardo "Edu" Pao Lucas, 4; Romeo Alejandro David, 6; Leonardo Angel Charles, 8; and Rafael Thomas, reports 'People' magazine. Alec is also dad to daughter Ireland Baldwin , 29, whom he welcomed with ex-wife Kim Basinger . "Happy father's day to this daddy @alecbaldwininsta and to all the other papas out there! Or happy birthday as the baby says", Hilaria captioned the video. "Sending lots of love to all of you! #fathersday". As per 'People', the video began with Ilaria saying, "Happy birthday, daddy", even though his birthday is April 3, as Alec picked up a gift to open. The actor then opened up a box of silverware and joked about having his own silverware set with a smile on his face. As the clip continued, Hilaria walked over with a lit candle for Alec as they jokingly sang "Happy Birthday". Alec let his daughters blow out the candle and playfully mimicked their technique. "Say, happy Father's Day", Hilaria said to their kids from behind the camera. Ilaria, who was sitting on his lap, echoed the sentiment, which caused him to visibly grow emotional and hug her to his chest. In response, their sons celebrated as Maria began singing "Happy Birthday". "Thank you, mother, for my silverware", Alec told Hilaria in the video.
Washington Post
6 days ago
- General
- Washington Post
Field notes from the end of life: My thoughts on living while dying
As friends are quick to tell me, we are all living with dying. True enough. Especially because I'm 76, or, as my late husband, Alec, would say, 'too old to die young.' But it's still disturbing to get official notice of your imminent demise. Most of us will, at some point, have to navigate this journey for ourselves or with someone we love. In a series of stories, I'll be sharing my field notes as I make my way from here to there, in the hope that others might find it useful.
Globe and Mail
14-06-2025
- Sport
- Globe and Mail
Football, Father's Day and the fleeting moments of parental joy we all dream of
I didn't think the Toronto Argonauts would ever mean as much to me again as when I was younger. They'd been there as a bond with my father, a semi-ironic shared passion with my friends, an opportunity to connect with Canadians from outside my Toronto bubble while drinking unhealthy amounts of beer at Grey Cups around the country. But my dad died, and life got too busy for my friends and I to get to every game together, and family responsibilities and financial pressures and fear of worse hangovers meant the Grey Cup trips pretty much stopped. And yet here we are, and I don't know if I've ever been more excited for an Argos home opener. Fitting that it falls on Father's Day weekend. Because what's reignited my passion for the CFL is the football journey onto which it's sent my nine-year-old, and what that's unlocked in me, and the idyllically old-fashioned little slice of father-son bonding it's giving us. When I first took Alec to see the Argos at BMO Field, a couple of years ago, my expectations were not sky high. The only sport he'd really embraced was basketball. Football is not an intuitive game that's easily graspable for kids, especially in an era of constant digital competition for their attention. I figured if we stayed much past halftime, without resorting to excessive bribery via stadium snacks, we'd be doing well. Instead, we made it through the whole game. And another one. Then another. He didn't get every nuance of the sport immediately, which was more than fine by me, because it meant I could give fatherly explanations that flexed my knowledge of something he was interested in. But he knew a big play when he saw one, and to make noise when the Argos were on defence, and even during blowouts he insisted on staying in our seats to the end, because that was what real fans did. For my part, I saw anew the singular appeal of CFL football that had drawn me in decades before. Here was a game sufficiently big-time that Alec could watch elite athletes make highlight-reel plays in front of tens of thousands of people, and sufficiently small-time that he could go down to the players' tunnel and jostle with other kids for autographs. Less corporate, more boisterous and chaotic than a Leafs or Raptors or Jays game, out in the open air, it was pretty magical through a boy's eyes. And it was cheap enough that I could take him often. Dad Bods explores the science of fatherhood – and brings good news When the Argos ended their 2023 season by losing a playoff game they were expected to win, he was the right level of disappointed. When they won the 2024 Grey Cup, he was so eager to go to the championship celebration downtown that I couldn't resist pulling him from school. It was, I know, to some extent a product of my own steering. I wouldn't have pushed him to embrace Canadian football if he hadn't warmed to it initially. But once he did, I wasn't above letting him stay up way past his bedtime to go to the odd evening game or saying yes to buying Argos merchandise more often than I should have. And I didn't go out of my way to disabuse him of the notion that they were as beloved a team as any in this city. But if I was the one who'd led us to that point in our shared football experience, Alec took us into the next phase of it, if not entirely intentionally. Over the winter, he got wind from a couple of friends at school that the Toronto Flag Football League, sponsored by the Argos, had a recreational division in our part of town for kids his age. He was eager to give it a try, and with some manoeuvering we got him into the spring season last-minute. (For the uninitiated, flag football is basically touch football, but with defenders needing to pull pieces of Velcro off ball-carriers to end plays.) When I brought him to the field, two things quickly became apparent. One was that the league, which takes over high-school football fields and has kids play width-wise across them, is more organized than I expected. It not only has referees and sideline spotters, but staff tracking stats for each player – receiving yards, interceptions, defensive metrics like deflected passes – updated on its website. Somehow this adds up to both a dream come true for kids who've watched pro football, and a welcoming environment for newbies. The other was that Alec had landed on the one team with confusion about who was coaching it, which was a possible explanation for losing their first game 63-0. Although he still said he'd had fun, a whole season of that threatened to put a damper on the experience for him and a bunch of other eager kids. So I took a deep breath and offered to help coach the rest of the way. It's hard for me to fully explain how far outside my comfort zone this was, despite my CFL love. It's not just that, with very limited experience playing organized football myself, my play-calling abilities were limited. (Fortunately, I wound up coaching alongside another dad who'd played university football.) The bigger obstacle was that, while I like to think I'm a pretty fun dad to my own kids, I'm not naturally one of those extroverts to whom other people's kids gravitate. Trying to direct nearly a dozen nine- and 10-year-olds to play a complicated team sport in front of their parents would've sounded to me, until this spring, like a nightmare. This is not where I tell a heroic tale of how, together, we turned it all around and triumphantly marched toward the championship. The team finished the regular season last week with three wins, seven losses, and a tie. (And the rival team that walloped us the first week, a juggernaut that never lost, subsequently beat us 56-0 and 49-7.) Our daughter's arrival filled us with joy. Becoming fathers had never been a given But Alec and his teammates visibly improved. A player who initially looked uncertain on the field scored a game-winning touchdown; another whose first couple of attempts at quarterbacking went poorly started to figure it out. They all appear to enjoy football as much or more than when the season started, they seem to like each other, and maybe they've discovered a few things about themselves. I sure have, about myself, which is a gift when you're well into your 40s. It turns out that, compensating for my limited technical expertise with decent communication skills and a possible excess of positive reinforcement, I might actually be decent at helping kids – even those who aren't my own – manage their emotional highs and lows and grow together. From the sidelines, I've done my best to treat Alec like every other kid, even as I've seen some nascent leadership skills in his combination of competitiveness and sportsmanship. But I've relished our conversations about each game's highlights, what worked and what didn't, on the drive home and for days after. Between games, in the long daylight of late-spring evenings, we've found ourselves tossing the ball around outside, playing mini-games with other local kids who join in. To the slight amusement of my wife, and possibly a few other parents who know me well, I've become a Neighbourhood Football Dad. All of this may reach its pinnacle this weekend, when Saturday morning's flag-football playoffs – which every team makes, and where we might be able to pull off one more win before running into the juggernaut – will give way to the Argos' opener in the afternoon. I'm very aware that it may not last. Tastes change, as our kids like to say when we prod them to eat something they purportedly liked previously, and the younger you are the faster it can happen. Alec's Argos enthusiasm could wane if they have a bad season or two, or if kids at school convince him the NFL is what counts. His on-field career could come to a crashing halt anytime, too, if he decides another sport (or no sport) is for him; a flag-football craze that's swept through his friend group for reasons I don't fully understand could easily be replaced by something else. At a certain point, as he approaches teen-hood, his dad's involvement could become a bug rather than a feature. I'm also not going to pressure Alec's brother, five-year-old Felix, to follow in his football footsteps – even if there were early signs of enthusiasm at his first Argos game last fall. But living in the moment is something I'm always trying to encourage my kids to do, and it's probably time to practise what I preach. No matter how close and loving your relationship with your children, it can feel like a constant struggle to stay connected. I do my best to understand and embrace Alec's tastes in anime or Roblox video games or memes he's heard about from his friends, even as I try to police them. But particularly when it involves mediums that didn't exist when I was his age, there can be a distance. Then something comes along that fits how you vaguely pictured parenthood before the kids were born. Something more analogue, maybe, more transferable between generations, that you can nurture and share. You know it's giving you memories you'll keep the rest of your life, and your kids will too, but first you try to savour it and make it last as long as possible. So I'm signing up to coach again when flag football resumes in the fall. And I'll be buying tickets for all the Argos games we can go to this season. I'll be quietly thanking them, every time I'm in the stadium, for what they've helped us share. Alec won't be thinking about the game that way now; it's not how kids work. But one day, he just might.
