It's been a good Christmas.
I honestly wasn't expecting to say those words this year, but it's true. Christmas seems to bring out the best in people, and create the best memories of our too-fleeting lives. A great example of the best that could happen is the cease-fire incident of World War I that started in Ypres and moved throughout the entire front line of the war. (To read more about that, click here.)
From a personal perspective, my finest Christmas memory is now twelve years old. It was on Christmas in 1996 that I asked Allyson to be my wife. She said yes, for some reason, by the way...that's what makes it a good memory.
But this year comes close to matching that one, and I'm going to tell you why--but it requires some backstory.
About two months back, I was working at Dr. NO's doing the things that I normally do: ringing up customers, sorting and filing comics, and that sort of thing. At some point, my wedding band fell off my hand. Pretty much everyone at the store looked for it, as well as some people who just wanted to help out, and even though I appreciate all the effort that everyone put into the search, sadly the results were negative. My ring was gone.
I was crushed. That ring had tremendous sentimental value to me, and not just because I was given it on my wedding day. At the time of our wedding, my wife was unemployed, and couldn't afford to buy me a ring. I told her not to worry, that at some point we would have the money and until then I could just wear a simple hematite band that we found at a nature store. She was sad, but understanding. Of course, she also wasn't content to leave things there. She took her hunting rifle (yes, my wife used to have a hunting rifle) and went from pawn shop to pawn shop, looking to trade it for a ring. She didn't have the success that she hoped for, as her rifle was not in demand and there wasn't enough value to get a ring. That is, until she stopped at a pawn shop up in Kennesaw and was again turned down--and she broke down crying. The shop owner asked what was wrong, and she told him her story. With a smile, he pulled out a large bag of rings and told her to take her pick. At our wedding, she surprised me with that ring--as anyone that attended our wedding is sure to remember.
But that ring went away, and I was devastated.
Then, about four weeks ago, I canceled Christmas at our house. Once again, Allyson is unemployed--like far too many people today--and this time is worse than ever before. We are struggling to survive, and we quite literally don't know what the future holds for us. We have been forced to make some dramatic decisions in our lives, and are facing a greater change than we ever have. Our future is uncertain, and our stress is at an amazing level, but we cling to each other for strength through all of this--and today she reminded me why.
Once again, Allyson took to the pawn shops, carrying with her this time a wide array of jewelry that she no longer decided she needed, determined to find me a ring to replace the one that I lost. She didn't have as much success this time around, as the economic situation has hit even pawn shops--they couldn't offer her enough to pay for a ring. Once again dejected, she turned to the most unlikely of all places: the mall. Wandering through in hopes to find me a small gift for the holidays--even though we told each other "no presents!"--her eye was caught by a kiosk that was displaying men's wedding bands. And when she looked at the price, she was stunned. It was well within her own price range, mainly due to the simple fact that it wasn't gold or even silver--it was made of stainless steel.
So, this morning when we got up for the day, and wandered down to our not-decorated living room we both surprised each other with a couple of small presents (yeah, I broke the rule, too). I got her a couple of books, a calander and a Wonder Woman hoodie that I knew she wanted from Dr. NO's. She gave me a small tin filled with a spice blend that she knew I loved. And then she told me to open it.
Inside was a brilliant piece of shining metal. A new wedding band that she bought me to replace the one that I lost. I put it on, and it fit perfectly. I was in shock then, and am still a little choked up writing this now. I hadn't made much of losing the ring, as I didn't want her to feel guilty about me not having one, but since it disappeared, I have felt...wrong. As though a part of me was missing. Now, I look down at my left hand as I type this, and a gleaming piece of metal shines back up at me.
A stainless steel wedding band might not be the ideal thing to most, but for me, there is nothing more beautiful than that chunk of metal that is resting on my figure. Except, of course, for the woman that bought it for me. That might sound a little overly dramatic and sickly romantic, but it is really how I feel right now. Christmas was saved for me, by a simple piece of common metal, brought to me in a very uncommon way.
In the grand scheme of things, this doesn't compare with the event at Ypres that I mentioned earlier, but to me, at this moment, it is one of the greatest events in the history of the holiday.
I hope that all of you have had a wonderful Christmas day, whether you choose to celebrate the actual holiday or not. There is a magic to this time of year that truly does create memories, and this year it has created one that I will never forget.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Another SIlly Test Thingie...
There Are 0 Gaps in Your Knowledge |
 Where you have gaps in your knowledge: No Gaps! Where you don't have gaps in your knowledge: Philosophy Religion Economics Literature History Science Art |
Friday, November 07, 2008
Hello
Y'know, it's been months since I posted anything here. I've felt kinda bad about that, so I decided to do something about it.
And now I have.
Oh, and there have been a vast number of things that have been going on in my life, some of which I hope to expand upon here at a future date. But, until then, just know that I am alive and healthy--even if I have been having some odd dizzy spells for the past three weeks--and am keeping far more than simply "busy."
Best for now, and I'll be back soon.
And now I have.
Oh, and there have been a vast number of things that have been going on in my life, some of which I hope to expand upon here at a future date. But, until then, just know that I am alive and healthy--even if I have been having some odd dizzy spells for the past three weeks--and am keeping far more than simply "busy."
Best for now, and I'll be back soon.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Please, Enjoy!
I realized today that I want to be like Matt. I've never met Matt, but I had an opportunity to, as he was in Atlanta once. Matt has a great attitude and a charm that is more than just a little contagious. If you don't know Matt, you should. You can learn about him and see if you, too, would like to be like Matt by either clicking the title of this post, or by going to this website if that didn't work right: http://www.vimeo.com/1211060
If you haven't been there yet, go. If you are stubborn and insistent on reading this entire post before going, I'll tell you my reaction to Matt.
I laughed. I cried. It was truly a little over four of the happiest moments of this year for me. It's hard to believe that this one video is so compelling and entertaining, but it says so much in such a simple way.
We are all the same people. We all share the same simple joys and pleasures. Yet we let other, much more stupid things complicate that and ruin our lives.
Take five minutes out of your life. Watch Matt. Enjoy those minutes. And maybe, just maybe, we can all try to have a little bit of Matt in us every day.
If you haven't been there yet, go. If you are stubborn and insistent on reading this entire post before going, I'll tell you my reaction to Matt.
I laughed. I cried. It was truly a little over four of the happiest moments of this year for me. It's hard to believe that this one video is so compelling and entertaining, but it says so much in such a simple way.
We are all the same people. We all share the same simple joys and pleasures. Yet we let other, much more stupid things complicate that and ruin our lives.
Take five minutes out of your life. Watch Matt. Enjoy those minutes. And maybe, just maybe, we can all try to have a little bit of Matt in us every day.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
So...Speed Racer
Well, I'm three weeks into the 2008 movie marathon and we hit a major snag. 2008 is a promising summer for movies, with a movie coming out almost every week through July that I want to see. And I say almost because there are a couple of weeks in there that have some clunkers...and this was one of them.
Now, I kinda wanted to see Speed Racer, up until the point where I read a few reviews talking about how overwhelmingly bad the movie is anyway. But my wife, who was a much bigger fan of the TV show than I was, still wanted to go see it, so, prepared for what was surely a bad movie, I went in ready for the worst.
I needed a bigger boat.
Speed Racer is an amazingly bad movie, that, as one reviewer stated, "looked like someone threw up Skittles all over the screen." Now, if I haven't mentioned it, I am color blind, and about 10 minutes into the movie my wife leaned over to me and told me that she was so jealous of that fact, and the movie was way too colorful for me. It's really difficult to describe just how much of a sensory overload this film is, except perhaps to say that when we walked out of the theater we felt as though the world was an odd, bland place.
And the filmmakers decided that, in order to keep with the title of the film, I'm guessing, they would make sure that things were ALWAYS in motion in the movie. The constant panning and scene swipes in the film are incredibly annoying. I once condemned Francis Ford Copolla's Bram Stoker's Dracula for using to many fades and swipes in a movie, and I would officially like to apologize to him and that film, as having seen Speed Racer I now feel that every other frenetic film ever made was shot with a single stationary camera.
Oh, and the writing...let's talk about the writing for a second. It was horrible. The plot and pacing of the movie was so disjointed and haphazard that it was difficult to follow. What's more, just about every action scene in the movie is so flashy and oversaturated that you can't follow a single action, let alone make heads or tails out of what is happening in the race.
And speaking of the races, if you have any appreciation for well executed and technically accurate racing, well, then you want to avoid this movie at all costs. At almost no moment during the film do the cars ever go in a straight line. I know, I know--strange concept for a car, that whole driving in a straight line thing, but I still wish it happened at least once or twice in a race. Instead, the cars flip and spin in an odd mix of acrobatics and martial arts maneuvers as they literally fight their way down the speedway in an attempt to win the race.
So, all in all, it was a bad movie. A very bad movie, in fact. And yet, because I went into the theater expecting one of the worst movies I've seen in a while, I had fun. I laughed and smiled a lot. And it was because of the movie. Not because of good things, but because it was so bad that I was able to mock it and joke about it with my friends for the length of the whole film. And I also look at the experience as something I can almost brag about. Seeing the ticket receipts from the first weekend--putting the movie around the $20 million range--I will be among the few that can say they actually saw that cacophonous disaster on the big screen.
Still, I know what the Wachowski's were going for when they made the movie, right after the film ended. Every child under the age of about 12 that stood up after the movie was giddy happy. One kid actually danced down the aisle with his mom when it was done. So, all the colors and motion did have a target audience, but it was even younger than my own youthful mindset.
And there were a few moments in the film that made me smile for the right reasons. The race in the middle of the film where Speed drives the Mach 5--oh, did I not mention that he doesn't drive the Mach 5 in the majority of the movie? No, he drives the classic and beloved Mach 6 through most of it--is highly reminiscent of the original show. It even features a bad guy from the original series. And, even though I think I was the only one in my group that enjoyed it, I liked the scene where Racer X took on the mobsters rolling headquarters, mostly for little touches like him constantly shooting up the vehicle in an "X" pattern and such; and it also seemed that fighting a rolling headquarter semi-truck was something right out of the show, and was the only action sequence that was easy to follow visually.
So, anyway...bad movie. Don't go see Speed Racer unless you have kids. Or really want to go see something very, very bad on a big screen that has a very distinct possibility of causing a seizure at any given moment.
On the other hand, if you want to go see a good movie go see Iron Man. I'm thinking of going to see it again just to clean my movie palette...
Now, I kinda wanted to see Speed Racer, up until the point where I read a few reviews talking about how overwhelmingly bad the movie is anyway. But my wife, who was a much bigger fan of the TV show than I was, still wanted to go see it, so, prepared for what was surely a bad movie, I went in ready for the worst.
I needed a bigger boat.
Speed Racer is an amazingly bad movie, that, as one reviewer stated, "looked like someone threw up Skittles all over the screen." Now, if I haven't mentioned it, I am color blind, and about 10 minutes into the movie my wife leaned over to me and told me that she was so jealous of that fact, and the movie was way too colorful for me. It's really difficult to describe just how much of a sensory overload this film is, except perhaps to say that when we walked out of the theater we felt as though the world was an odd, bland place.
And the filmmakers decided that, in order to keep with the title of the film, I'm guessing, they would make sure that things were ALWAYS in motion in the movie. The constant panning and scene swipes in the film are incredibly annoying. I once condemned Francis Ford Copolla's Bram Stoker's Dracula for using to many fades and swipes in a movie, and I would officially like to apologize to him and that film, as having seen Speed Racer I now feel that every other frenetic film ever made was shot with a single stationary camera.
Oh, and the writing...let's talk about the writing for a second. It was horrible. The plot and pacing of the movie was so disjointed and haphazard that it was difficult to follow. What's more, just about every action scene in the movie is so flashy and oversaturated that you can't follow a single action, let alone make heads or tails out of what is happening in the race.
And speaking of the races, if you have any appreciation for well executed and technically accurate racing, well, then you want to avoid this movie at all costs. At almost no moment during the film do the cars ever go in a straight line. I know, I know--strange concept for a car, that whole driving in a straight line thing, but I still wish it happened at least once or twice in a race. Instead, the cars flip and spin in an odd mix of acrobatics and martial arts maneuvers as they literally fight their way down the speedway in an attempt to win the race.
So, all in all, it was a bad movie. A very bad movie, in fact. And yet, because I went into the theater expecting one of the worst movies I've seen in a while, I had fun. I laughed and smiled a lot. And it was because of the movie. Not because of good things, but because it was so bad that I was able to mock it and joke about it with my friends for the length of the whole film. And I also look at the experience as something I can almost brag about. Seeing the ticket receipts from the first weekend--putting the movie around the $20 million range--I will be among the few that can say they actually saw that cacophonous disaster on the big screen.
Still, I know what the Wachowski's were going for when they made the movie, right after the film ended. Every child under the age of about 12 that stood up after the movie was giddy happy. One kid actually danced down the aisle with his mom when it was done. So, all the colors and motion did have a target audience, but it was even younger than my own youthful mindset.
And there were a few moments in the film that made me smile for the right reasons. The race in the middle of the film where Speed drives the Mach 5--oh, did I not mention that he doesn't drive the Mach 5 in the majority of the movie? No, he drives the classic and beloved Mach 6 through most of it--is highly reminiscent of the original show. It even features a bad guy from the original series. And, even though I think I was the only one in my group that enjoyed it, I liked the scene where Racer X took on the mobsters rolling headquarters, mostly for little touches like him constantly shooting up the vehicle in an "X" pattern and such; and it also seemed that fighting a rolling headquarter semi-truck was something right out of the show, and was the only action sequence that was easy to follow visually.
So, anyway...bad movie. Don't go see Speed Racer unless you have kids. Or really want to go see something very, very bad on a big screen that has a very distinct possibility of causing a seizure at any given moment.
On the other hand, if you want to go see a good movie go see Iron Man. I'm thinking of going to see it again just to clean my movie palette...
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Pride...In The Name of Love
No, this post has absolutely nothing to do with U2.
What this post deals with are two different people who have been in my life for a very long time that I want to spend a moment praising for their recent efforts.
A week ago, one of my oldest and dearest friends, Jerry Murdock, held a party to, as he phrased it, "Celebrate the Murdocks". He didn't make a big noise as to WHY he was wanting to do this, but I would like to think that everyone who made it to the party--and there were about 100 of us--knew why.
About 4 years ago, Jerry and his wife Phyllis took in two children not their own. Phyllis' sister and her husband had gone to a dark place in their lives, and their children were being taken away by the authorities. Rather than see them put in a home of strangers, the two of them took both children, a young boy and his younger sister, into their own house to live beside the couple's own two daughters. Overnight, Jerry and his wife went from having two young children to having four young children, and they were both happy to do it.
Well, time went on, and the situation with the two children's birth parents didn't improve. And, after almost four years of living with them, Jerry and Phyllis decided that it was time to bring the two children into their lives officially. So, taking the proper procedures and steps, they filed adoption papers. And, a few weeks ago the two children became Cody and Stevie Murdock.
Being a good friend of Jerry's, he confided in me throughout the process, telling me the trials and tribulations that occurred, and the stress that it put on him personally to fight for these children's well being. But, throughout it all, he never once faltered. He never thought about himself, but about what needed to be done for those kids. And, even though they never planned it, they now have twice the children they planned on. And with them having the current ages of 10, 11, 12 and 13, he's got more than his fair share of headaches ahead of him. But I know that he won't let anything get to him. Being one of the most laid-back people on the planet, he'll take it all in stride. But I don't want anyone to ever look at his easy-going nature the wrong way: he's willing to fight when the time comes and never back down.
And then there is the matter of someone else in my life--someone even closer to me than Jerry. Earlier this year my wife, Allyson, found herself unemployed. And in this day and age, that's not something anyone wants to face. And what's more, she was quickly coming to realize that the career path she had chosen, that of being a graphic designer, wasn't where she wanted to be at this point. It was time for a change.
So, she began a venture of her own. She had long been talking about starting up a company that involved one of her true passions in life, tea, and fate had brought her the opportunity to pursue that dream.
Thus, she started Coyotea, a company that will provide fine teas to fine dining establishments, along with providing the staff of those places the education to prepare and serve that tea properly. This isn't a wild idea, as she has done her research and there are several successful companies providing these same services in a variety of cities around the country. She has put in hours upon hours of research, created her own special unique blends of tea, and put together a business plan and sales collateral to make this business a success.
Of course, any new business isn't going to bring in any money right off the bat, so she had to do something that would bring in money. Today is her second day working at Starbucks. She understands that it isn't going to bring in the type of money that she made as a graphic designer, but the work environment is far more pleasant than that of a corporate desk job, and it leaves her with the energy to continue to work on her own business in the interim.
It takes an amazing amount of courage to take that leap. To believe in yourself and your dream to the point where you are willing to take far less money, and all but double your workload at the same time. But the ultimate goal is worth it: to have a career that isn't only something that you want to do, but something that you have created from the ground up. Something that you can truly call your own.
So there you have it. Two people who have both taken steps that most wouldn't consider. Done things that others are often too afraid to do themselves. The pride I have in knowing both of these people is incalculable. And that they count me among their friends and loved ones humbles me.
So, I wanted to take a few moments to sit down and share what I was feeling, and express how proud I am to know both of them. Oh, and also to thank them for being inspirations to me in ways that they might not ever truly understand, because, well, they won't see what they've done as anything special. Which is yet another reason that they are that amazing.
What this post deals with are two different people who have been in my life for a very long time that I want to spend a moment praising for their recent efforts.
A week ago, one of my oldest and dearest friends, Jerry Murdock, held a party to, as he phrased it, "Celebrate the Murdocks". He didn't make a big noise as to WHY he was wanting to do this, but I would like to think that everyone who made it to the party--and there were about 100 of us--knew why.
About 4 years ago, Jerry and his wife Phyllis took in two children not their own. Phyllis' sister and her husband had gone to a dark place in their lives, and their children were being taken away by the authorities. Rather than see them put in a home of strangers, the two of them took both children, a young boy and his younger sister, into their own house to live beside the couple's own two daughters. Overnight, Jerry and his wife went from having two young children to having four young children, and they were both happy to do it.
Well, time went on, and the situation with the two children's birth parents didn't improve. And, after almost four years of living with them, Jerry and Phyllis decided that it was time to bring the two children into their lives officially. So, taking the proper procedures and steps, they filed adoption papers. And, a few weeks ago the two children became Cody and Stevie Murdock.
Being a good friend of Jerry's, he confided in me throughout the process, telling me the trials and tribulations that occurred, and the stress that it put on him personally to fight for these children's well being. But, throughout it all, he never once faltered. He never thought about himself, but about what needed to be done for those kids. And, even though they never planned it, they now have twice the children they planned on. And with them having the current ages of 10, 11, 12 and 13, he's got more than his fair share of headaches ahead of him. But I know that he won't let anything get to him. Being one of the most laid-back people on the planet, he'll take it all in stride. But I don't want anyone to ever look at his easy-going nature the wrong way: he's willing to fight when the time comes and never back down.
And then there is the matter of someone else in my life--someone even closer to me than Jerry. Earlier this year my wife, Allyson, found herself unemployed. And in this day and age, that's not something anyone wants to face. And what's more, she was quickly coming to realize that the career path she had chosen, that of being a graphic designer, wasn't where she wanted to be at this point. It was time for a change.
So, she began a venture of her own. She had long been talking about starting up a company that involved one of her true passions in life, tea, and fate had brought her the opportunity to pursue that dream.
Thus, she started Coyotea, a company that will provide fine teas to fine dining establishments, along with providing the staff of those places the education to prepare and serve that tea properly. This isn't a wild idea, as she has done her research and there are several successful companies providing these same services in a variety of cities around the country. She has put in hours upon hours of research, created her own special unique blends of tea, and put together a business plan and sales collateral to make this business a success.
Of course, any new business isn't going to bring in any money right off the bat, so she had to do something that would bring in money. Today is her second day working at Starbucks. She understands that it isn't going to bring in the type of money that she made as a graphic designer, but the work environment is far more pleasant than that of a corporate desk job, and it leaves her with the energy to continue to work on her own business in the interim.
It takes an amazing amount of courage to take that leap. To believe in yourself and your dream to the point where you are willing to take far less money, and all but double your workload at the same time. But the ultimate goal is worth it: to have a career that isn't only something that you want to do, but something that you have created from the ground up. Something that you can truly call your own.
So there you have it. Two people who have both taken steps that most wouldn't consider. Done things that others are often too afraid to do themselves. The pride I have in knowing both of these people is incalculable. And that they count me among their friends and loved ones humbles me.
So, I wanted to take a few moments to sit down and share what I was feeling, and express how proud I am to know both of them. Oh, and also to thank them for being inspirations to me in ways that they might not ever truly understand, because, well, they won't see what they've done as anything special. Which is yet another reason that they are that amazing.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Verbanizing Our Vocabulation
I have a degree in English. What this means varies from person to person. Some feel that it makes me a pretentious ass, who speaks as though he was better than everyone around them. Others feel that I wasted my education completely. And yet others--the ones that know me better--doubt this completely and/or think that the college I went to must hand out degrees to anyone who gives them enough money.
What it means to me is that I grind my teeth when I see the horrible things that have happened to the English language in the past couple of decades.
Now, I'm sure that cringing at the abuse the language takes has been going on as long as people have been studying language, but since I have only been alive during my lifetime (that I can tell, anyway), I'm going to focus on that. And more specifically, what seems to be happening more and more and more...and that would be creating new words out of old words in entirely the wrong way.
This is recently inspired by two instances inside of 24 hours. Tonight, coming back from picking up a quick dinner, I saw a place called Synergenistic Fitness. Not Synergy Fitness, or even Synergistic Fitness, but Synergenistic Fitness. Maybe it was a typo. Maybe I misread it (God, I hope I misread it...), but I fear not.
The other comes from watching a train wreck of a television series called Kymora: Life in the Fab Lane yesterday and hearing the model/entrepreneur/egomaniac the show is about refer to her life as Fabulosity. And that was no typo or me mishearing it. She said it several times. Wow. That takes some thinking to figure out.
And those are just two recent examples. The habit of "verbing" words makes no sense to me. Someone the other day told me that they had just "iPodded" some songs. Huh? It was bad enough that "Photoshop" became a verb, but I think that things are progressing far too quickly down this path. I dunno, maybe I'm too old, but it bugs me.
I, for one, would like to address this phenomenon in the only way that I can think to handle it...
Personally, I find this creativiosity to be most enlightenish. Creating a sensationly moment in my life, enhancenating even the most awesometastic happenstuff that could ever flowup to my brainly craters. But, depressionally considerating the ramificationing of the verbinations that might be creationated from this phenomenons, I wisenly figure that all intellegentsia that could inhabinate the planet could resultify in my own personalizified irradicadory moment aidicated from an outside accomplimentary person wieldifiying a projectilized weapon.
In other words: shoot me now...shoot me now...
What it means to me is that I grind my teeth when I see the horrible things that have happened to the English language in the past couple of decades.
Now, I'm sure that cringing at the abuse the language takes has been going on as long as people have been studying language, but since I have only been alive during my lifetime (that I can tell, anyway), I'm going to focus on that. And more specifically, what seems to be happening more and more and more...and that would be creating new words out of old words in entirely the wrong way.
This is recently inspired by two instances inside of 24 hours. Tonight, coming back from picking up a quick dinner, I saw a place called Synergenistic Fitness. Not Synergy Fitness, or even Synergistic Fitness, but Synergenistic Fitness. Maybe it was a typo. Maybe I misread it (God, I hope I misread it...), but I fear not.
The other comes from watching a train wreck of a television series called Kymora: Life in the Fab Lane yesterday and hearing the model/entrepreneur/egomaniac the show is about refer to her life as Fabulosity. And that was no typo or me mishearing it. She said it several times. Wow. That takes some thinking to figure out.
And those are just two recent examples. The habit of "verbing" words makes no sense to me. Someone the other day told me that they had just "iPodded" some songs. Huh? It was bad enough that "Photoshop" became a verb, but I think that things are progressing far too quickly down this path. I dunno, maybe I'm too old, but it bugs me.
I, for one, would like to address this phenomenon in the only way that I can think to handle it...
Personally, I find this creativiosity to be most enlightenish. Creating a sensationly moment in my life, enhancenating even the most awesometastic happenstuff that could ever flowup to my brainly craters. But, depressionally considerating the ramificationing of the verbinations that might be creationated from this phenomenons, I wisenly figure that all intellegentsia that could inhabinate the planet could resultify in my own personalizified irradicadory moment aidicated from an outside accomplimentary person wieldifiying a projectilized weapon.
In other words: shoot me now...shoot me now...
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Not Quite There...
I was born in the south. I was raised in the north. I moved back to the south just in time to finish high school, and have lived here ever since. I like it here, and consider myself a southerner at this point, with no plans to leave.
But that doesn't mean that I'm fully to that "Southerner" point by all standards. And I had that illustrated by a simple fact that I never heard before, and it still seems more than a little odd to me.
Namely, it seems that there was--and possibly still is--a habit of putting peanuts in Coca-Cola. Let me say that again. Peanuts put in Coca-Cola.
Yeah, it doesn't matter how many times I say it or write it, it just sounds...wrong. I like peanuts. I don't dislike Coca-Cola (though there are many other better soft drinks out there, in my opinion). But the idea of the two of them together just seem horrible. And not in a small way, either.
My wife, who told me of this tradition, claims that it was so that the salt on the peanuts would keep the carbonation going longer, but wouldn't it be easier to just add salt? Peanuts don't just taste like salt; they have a distinct flavor of their own, and that flavor doesn't exactly scream Coke to me.
So, while this probably isn't a common tradition in the region anymore, it does make me realize that--even though the south is my home--I'm not really a southerner. In fact, I'm not a northerner, either. Or really, a midwesterner, being raised in Indiana. I'm just me, which is fine. I just happen to be happy living in the south, and I plan to be here for a long, long time. It's a great place, really.
Well, except for the pollen. But that was my rant from last year about this time. It still sucks, to be honest.
But that doesn't mean that I'm fully to that "Southerner" point by all standards. And I had that illustrated by a simple fact that I never heard before, and it still seems more than a little odd to me.
Namely, it seems that there was--and possibly still is--a habit of putting peanuts in Coca-Cola. Let me say that again. Peanuts put in Coca-Cola.
Yeah, it doesn't matter how many times I say it or write it, it just sounds...wrong. I like peanuts. I don't dislike Coca-Cola (though there are many other better soft drinks out there, in my opinion). But the idea of the two of them together just seem horrible. And not in a small way, either.
My wife, who told me of this tradition, claims that it was so that the salt on the peanuts would keep the carbonation going longer, but wouldn't it be easier to just add salt? Peanuts don't just taste like salt; they have a distinct flavor of their own, and that flavor doesn't exactly scream Coke to me.
So, while this probably isn't a common tradition in the region anymore, it does make me realize that--even though the south is my home--I'm not really a southerner. In fact, I'm not a northerner, either. Or really, a midwesterner, being raised in Indiana. I'm just me, which is fine. I just happen to be happy living in the south, and I plan to be here for a long, long time. It's a great place, really.
Well, except for the pollen. But that was my rant from last year about this time. It still sucks, to be honest.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Wrestlemania
It's been a while since I posted here. Something I aim to correct. And tonight is the start of this trend.
I went over to my friend Brian's house to watch Wrestlemania XXIV. Yes, that does mean that I am something of a closet wrestling fan, and have been ever since my wife introduced me to watching it about a decade ago. Oh yes, you read that correctly: my WIFE introduced me to watching wrestling. I mean, I watched it a little as a kid, but I stopped before I hit my teens. And then she got me back into it, and we have watched it off and on since then.
And tonight we went and watched Wrestlemania. It was an okay show, with decent matches and performances. The people we were watching it with were a lot of fun, and Brian and his wife Jessie were very gracious hosts.
But the big news of the night--especially for long-time wrestling fans--was that tonight was the final match for Ric Flair. Flair has been called the greatest wrestler of all time, and though I am not personally a fan of his, I cannot truly argue with that claim. His ability to perform both in and out of the ring set a new standard for the industry, and changed it in many ways. And to hear other wrestlers speak of him, they only have kind words to say about his support and willingness to help younger, up and coming wrestlers make it in a very difficult industry, and perform as a professional in every situation. I salute his career, and thank him for all the entertaining moments that he has provided over the years.
But there is more...
Now that Ric has retired from the ring, what are his career options? Well, after some discussion, I think that Brian hit on it tonight during the show. He can go into the cereal business. With very little marketing, he can create a staple of any pantry, with a box of Flair-O's. And it's going to be so easy for him to create, too. All he has to do is take a box of Cheerios and add a single letter "W" to the box...
Yeah. It's a wrestling joke.
WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
I went over to my friend Brian's house to watch Wrestlemania XXIV. Yes, that does mean that I am something of a closet wrestling fan, and have been ever since my wife introduced me to watching it about a decade ago. Oh yes, you read that correctly: my WIFE introduced me to watching wrestling. I mean, I watched it a little as a kid, but I stopped before I hit my teens. And then she got me back into it, and we have watched it off and on since then.
And tonight we went and watched Wrestlemania. It was an okay show, with decent matches and performances. The people we were watching it with were a lot of fun, and Brian and his wife Jessie were very gracious hosts.
But the big news of the night--especially for long-time wrestling fans--was that tonight was the final match for Ric Flair. Flair has been called the greatest wrestler of all time, and though I am not personally a fan of his, I cannot truly argue with that claim. His ability to perform both in and out of the ring set a new standard for the industry, and changed it in many ways. And to hear other wrestlers speak of him, they only have kind words to say about his support and willingness to help younger, up and coming wrestlers make it in a very difficult industry, and perform as a professional in every situation. I salute his career, and thank him for all the entertaining moments that he has provided over the years.
But there is more...
Now that Ric has retired from the ring, what are his career options? Well, after some discussion, I think that Brian hit on it tonight during the show. He can go into the cereal business. With very little marketing, he can create a staple of any pantry, with a box of Flair-O's. And it's going to be so easy for him to create, too. All he has to do is take a box of Cheerios and add a single letter "W" to the box...
Yeah. It's a wrestling joke.
WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
So...Cloverfield
I saw the movie Cloverfield yesterday, and I've decided that I want to talk about it. That means that there are going to be some, but there are going to be a PLETHORA of spoilers below. So, if that is an issue to you, stop reading now.
I mean it.
Okay, so...Cloverfield. When I first saw the trailer, I was kinda excited about the movie as I am a big-time fan of giant monster movies. Then I read a little about the movie, and I lost some of that interest. I was worried about the film-making style, what with the whole thing being shot in hand-held camera style, i.e.: Blair Witch Project. Then, as it got closer, my interest grew again and I was pretty anxious to see it once again. So, I saw it.
And was very disappointed.
Not in the film-making style. That wasn't so bad, actually. The hand-held personal angle of the storytelling was somewhat compelling, even. And the personal interest side of the story works--for the first two-thirds of the movie. The problem is the last third of the film.
You see, Cloverfield isn't a monster movie. It's a movie about 9-11. A massive amount of damage is done to the city, and we follow a group of people trying to survive the devastation and rescue the love interest of the tale. Not bad, really, but after they save the woman they have nothing left to do. That's because the monster isn't a part of the movie. The monster is, at best, a tertiary character in the film.
Let's look a little deeper, shall we. The film is told as a documented version of what happened to New York after a huge disaster strikes the city. Without warning, a huge blow destroys significant portions of the city, and even one towering skyscraper (which I thought was the Empire State Building, but there was some debate on that with the people I went with) collapses and send dust through the streets causing even more damage. No one knows who or what has done this damage to the city, all they know is the destruction around them. It looks like a war zone.
Sound familiar? And don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with this. My favorite Kaiju film (that would be a giant monster movie in case you didn't know) is Godzilla. Godzilla is a reaction by Japanese film-makers to the atomic bomb being dropped on their country. The amazing power and devastating power of the atom is brought to life as a monster that they have to confront and deal with, and ultimately they figure out a way that the power can be tamed and the threat destroyed.
Not so much here. Part of that is due to the fact that, as of today, we as Americans have no idea what happened on 9-11. Oh sure, we know who is responsible and some of the logistics of the event, but we don't know exactly the events that led up to it and created the disaster. There is no face to put on the monster. Hence the reason that we get a monster in this film that is vague and unclear. And when you do see it, it doesn't make sense and looks kinda stupid. So we have a monster that isn't something that we understand or can kill or control in any way.
And this creates problems in a film-making sense. Once the main characters find and rescue the love-interest of the film, the creators don't know what to do. There is no happy ending--hell, there isn't even much of an ending, more of a stopping--because they don't know what to do with it. That's because they take absolutely no time at all to develop the threat of the monster. We never find out what it is or why it's doing the things that it is. There is a vague indication that the thing has come from outer space as the last scene in the movie is a flashback (the video tape that the events are being filmed on have footage from about a month earlier that shows something that looks like a meteor landing in the ocean), but that's it. We don't know anything else. And they deliberately go out of their way NOT to tell us anything. They have chances. And that, above everything else, is what makes the movie frustrating. The human interest side of the story works for the first two-thirds of the film, but after that they need to pull the story back to show more of what's happening. Provide depth to the tale. They don't do that.
I have heard the argument that the film doesn't do that to preserve the "reality" of the film. Oooookaaaay...let's look at that. They wanted to give it a realistic approach. Fine. Then why does the monster change size and shape? Early on, it is clearly shown that there are multiple tentacles that destroy a building, but later we see no tentacles at all. And no, it wasn't the beast's tail, as that is still just a single thing, and there were MULTIPLE tentacles. And then we see the monster walking around the city upright, like a humanoid, but later when the creature is shown clearly, we see nothing but the amazing gimp-beast, lumbering about with no legs and only backwards shaped arms. And, to top it off, at no time does it look threatening. It looks--dumb. In fact, it reminds me of the newborn alien from Alien: Resurrection, which was the thing that made that film bad. But I honestly don't want to sit here and attack the design of the monster; just because I thought it looked dumb doesn't mean that everyone will--that is a matter of personal taste.
So, let's look at the "reality" of the humans. First off, there is the matter of "recording the events for history" that is emphasized so often in the movie. For someone doing that, this guy goes way out of his way not to show anything. The few times that things do happen that would be worth documenting he turns the camera away from things, not giving us a clear view of anything. An example: the monster finally shows up and the military attacks it, and he chooses to film his friends cowering in the corner rather than show the attack. And then there is later in the movie where they have all gotten to the evac point the military sets up--and the helicopter taking them away flies right over the monster...for a long time. Long enough for the monster to destroy the helicopter. Yeah, the military does that sort of thing all the time. And let's not even get into the concept that they are able to walk down a dozen flights of a building that is leaning into another building--and the building that is holding up the other building is fine except for some superficial damage. So, no, the "realistic" angle doesn't hold up.
But overall, the film is disappointing because it forgets to be a monster movie. A monster movie is about the monster. At some point Hollywood has forgotten that. Cloverfield is about a bunch of people that die--and yes, they all die--and we never find out why or what is killing them. And that isn't a story, it's a scene. Shame the people who made the movie don't understand the difference.
I mean it.
Okay, so...Cloverfield. When I first saw the trailer, I was kinda excited about the movie as I am a big-time fan of giant monster movies. Then I read a little about the movie, and I lost some of that interest. I was worried about the film-making style, what with the whole thing being shot in hand-held camera style, i.e.: Blair Witch Project. Then, as it got closer, my interest grew again and I was pretty anxious to see it once again. So, I saw it.
And was very disappointed.
Not in the film-making style. That wasn't so bad, actually. The hand-held personal angle of the storytelling was somewhat compelling, even. And the personal interest side of the story works--for the first two-thirds of the movie. The problem is the last third of the film.
You see, Cloverfield isn't a monster movie. It's a movie about 9-11. A massive amount of damage is done to the city, and we follow a group of people trying to survive the devastation and rescue the love interest of the tale. Not bad, really, but after they save the woman they have nothing left to do. That's because the monster isn't a part of the movie. The monster is, at best, a tertiary character in the film.
Let's look a little deeper, shall we. The film is told as a documented version of what happened to New York after a huge disaster strikes the city. Without warning, a huge blow destroys significant portions of the city, and even one towering skyscraper (which I thought was the Empire State Building, but there was some debate on that with the people I went with) collapses and send dust through the streets causing even more damage. No one knows who or what has done this damage to the city, all they know is the destruction around them. It looks like a war zone.
Sound familiar? And don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with this. My favorite Kaiju film (that would be a giant monster movie in case you didn't know) is Godzilla. Godzilla is a reaction by Japanese film-makers to the atomic bomb being dropped on their country. The amazing power and devastating power of the atom is brought to life as a monster that they have to confront and deal with, and ultimately they figure out a way that the power can be tamed and the threat destroyed.
Not so much here. Part of that is due to the fact that, as of today, we as Americans have no idea what happened on 9-11. Oh sure, we know who is responsible and some of the logistics of the event, but we don't know exactly the events that led up to it and created the disaster. There is no face to put on the monster. Hence the reason that we get a monster in this film that is vague and unclear. And when you do see it, it doesn't make sense and looks kinda stupid. So we have a monster that isn't something that we understand or can kill or control in any way.
And this creates problems in a film-making sense. Once the main characters find and rescue the love-interest of the film, the creators don't know what to do. There is no happy ending--hell, there isn't even much of an ending, more of a stopping--because they don't know what to do with it. That's because they take absolutely no time at all to develop the threat of the monster. We never find out what it is or why it's doing the things that it is. There is a vague indication that the thing has come from outer space as the last scene in the movie is a flashback (the video tape that the events are being filmed on have footage from about a month earlier that shows something that looks like a meteor landing in the ocean), but that's it. We don't know anything else. And they deliberately go out of their way NOT to tell us anything. They have chances. And that, above everything else, is what makes the movie frustrating. The human interest side of the story works for the first two-thirds of the film, but after that they need to pull the story back to show more of what's happening. Provide depth to the tale. They don't do that.
I have heard the argument that the film doesn't do that to preserve the "reality" of the film. Oooookaaaay...let's look at that. They wanted to give it a realistic approach. Fine. Then why does the monster change size and shape? Early on, it is clearly shown that there are multiple tentacles that destroy a building, but later we see no tentacles at all. And no, it wasn't the beast's tail, as that is still just a single thing, and there were MULTIPLE tentacles. And then we see the monster walking around the city upright, like a humanoid, but later when the creature is shown clearly, we see nothing but the amazing gimp-beast, lumbering about with no legs and only backwards shaped arms. And, to top it off, at no time does it look threatening. It looks--dumb. In fact, it reminds me of the newborn alien from Alien: Resurrection, which was the thing that made that film bad. But I honestly don't want to sit here and attack the design of the monster; just because I thought it looked dumb doesn't mean that everyone will--that is a matter of personal taste.
So, let's look at the "reality" of the humans. First off, there is the matter of "recording the events for history" that is emphasized so often in the movie. For someone doing that, this guy goes way out of his way not to show anything. The few times that things do happen that would be worth documenting he turns the camera away from things, not giving us a clear view of anything. An example: the monster finally shows up and the military attacks it, and he chooses to film his friends cowering in the corner rather than show the attack. And then there is later in the movie where they have all gotten to the evac point the military sets up--and the helicopter taking them away flies right over the monster...for a long time. Long enough for the monster to destroy the helicopter. Yeah, the military does that sort of thing all the time. And let's not even get into the concept that they are able to walk down a dozen flights of a building that is leaning into another building--and the building that is holding up the other building is fine except for some superficial damage. So, no, the "realistic" angle doesn't hold up.
But overall, the film is disappointing because it forgets to be a monster movie. A monster movie is about the monster. At some point Hollywood has forgotten that. Cloverfield is about a bunch of people that die--and yes, they all die--and we never find out why or what is killing them. And that isn't a story, it's a scene. Shame the people who made the movie don't understand the difference.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Better or Worse?
Have you often wondered where to rate all of the music that you listen to? Well, I am here to give you a simple guide to help you through all of your hard times when deciding where any particular tune that you might listen to would rank.
This idea comes to me from my friend John Quiring, who took minutes I am sure to develop this complicated and precise measuring tool.
The way it works is simple: is it better or worse than 38 Special?
That is to say, when you listen to a song, is that particular song better or worse than something that 38 Special performed. This particular litmus was chosen because, while they aren't particularly great, they aren't really that good either. To make the point, when you hear 38 Special come on the radio, normally you aren't happy to hear the song, but is it really bad enough to bother changing the channel? Normally, no. You just endure the song for the approximate three minutes that it will be on.
Let's look at an example shall we? Say that the song Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice were to come on the radio. Go ahead and say it, I'll wait.
Now that you've said that, imagine it happening. The first thing that you would do is change the channel--while screaming, naturally. But if Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles comes on, you would stay on the channel and sing along. Well, you would if you had taste, anyway.
But what about, say, Jeremy by Pearl Jam? Is that bad enough to change the channel, or just not bad enough to bother with? Well, that's where you decide: is it better or worse than 38 Special?
Only you can decide the final fate of any song, but at least now you have a measuring stick. Good luck.
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