Movie Crash

Short answer: I really like it.

Crash was an interesting look at race relations from various angles, and had the courage to cinematically admit there are shades of gray in all of us. I found Crash to be a realistic, thought-provoking, and interesting movie; one very much worth watching. Gave it a Netflix four stars (really liked it), though had 4.5 stars been doable that would have been my rating. Wasn't quite worth five, but very, very close.

Of Secret Window and Movie Reviews

I'm not sure why I started sticking my opinion of movies here, because I hate reviewing them. I can't do a true movie review because, since I hate finding anything out prior to seeing a movie, I don't want to say anything about the movie. So my reviews, when boiled down, are pretty generic. For example, with the movie Titanic, I obviously wouldn't mention that the ipshay inksays in the end, but I also wouldn't want to mention any particulars of the movie. That said, while I may continue to post a review of the movies I watch (or may not, it'll be a random thing), they will be very generic in nature.

And all of that said, Secret Window: Bottom line, I liked the Steven King novella (Secret Window, Secret Garden) better. I always find it amusing when a movie maker (be it the producer, the script writer, whoever) takes a story they paid a gazillion bucks for -- because it was good -- and decide they, an unheard of writer, can make it better than the guy/gal who has millions of satisfied readers. They almost always fail. But the movie ending wasn't particularly bad, just not as satisfying as it would be had they followed King's story-line. Depp was interesting as Mort Rainey and, I thought, played the part well. I also thought John Turturro (who I loved as Pete in Oh Brother Where Art Thou) was great as John Shooter. Of course, I'd read the King story, so whether or not the movie was predictable is difficult to say since -- even though it had been some 15 years since I read the story -- any predictability could probably be due to a distant, vague knowledge of what was coming.

All in all, a pretty good movie, gave it three Netflix stars ("liked it").

Movies: Troy & Stealth

Number One Son and I had a double feature night last night and watched Stealth, then Troy. Number One Son mostly read (Rainbow Six, by Tom Clancy) during Troy and just paid attention to the fight scenes. Both were okay movies, nothing to write home about, gave 'em a Netflix three stars. Stealth, of course, was totally unbelievable, with lots of fairly glaring "nuh-uh" moments, but if you forgave those things it was fun to watch.

During Stealth, I was reminded of an old Saturday Night Live skit where either Eddie Murphy or Garrett Morris was in a "war movie" skit. If you remember the skit, you'll know what I found amusing about Jamie Foxx's character in the movie. I guess some things never change.

Troy was mostly interesting for the fight sequences; there was little of the plot that was of interest. I was pretty tired of Brad Pitt's character, Achilles, by the end. Nothing of any value from this guy, and I think there was supposed to be. Ah, well, if the worst I have going is a disagreement with the philosophical ideals of Hollywood, I'm okay.

Our cat

We have two pets, a cat named Lady Socks and a dog name Charley. Both were strays, and both were small when we acquired them, but I'll mention how I got roped into that another time. For this post, I wanted to mention something I noticed today: I call the dog by his name, but the cat's just "cat." I started wondering why that might be, and I think I've come up with the answer. See, Charley, being a dog, is happy with letting us name him and call him whatever we want. Charley epitomizes the old expression "you can call me whatever you want as long as you call me for dinner."

The cat, however, wouldn't come when you called her if she was the one who provided the birth certificate with her name spelled out. She certainly isn't going to answer to some name we came up with, and as she hates me, she wouldn't come when I called her if I was an open can of tuna fish.

Now, she may have reason to hate me just from the number of times I've either stepped on her tail or caught it in the door (all accidental, I assure you). But I think she hates me for more "catly" reasons. She, like most cats, thinks herself better than we mere humans. On the rare occasion when I'm sitting watching TV and wouldn't mind having the cat sit in my lap, she gives me this aloof look that suggests I'm not worthy to pet the hairs that grow on her beautiful back. Doesn't matter what I use for bait, she can ignore me.

However . . . .

Years ago I bought the kids a laser pointer, back when these things were the rage. We still have one lying around, and from time to time I break it out. Thing is, I can tell the cat hates that she chases the little red dot across the floor, but she can't help herself. She's like me when it comes to the leftover Halloween candy; try as she might she can't resist. I'll run her up a couple of walls, around the fire place hearth, and so forth, and she'll finally decide she's above all this and start to walk away. But I'll jiggle that dot near where she's walking and you can see her strain to resist, crumble, let out a cat-curse, and start chasing it again. Aloofness is shot, disdain be darned, she runs slobbering after that red dot like a crack head after a free fix. When I finally get tired of the game and she gets to slink off in shame, she usually pauses to give me this one last look of pure cat evil. I know the chink in her armor, and she hates me for it. I find that amusing . . . but I sleep with the bedroom door closed, and the cat on the other side.

Movie - Taxi

Subtitle: Overloading the Suspension of Disbelief

Okay, granted: you watch a movie and it generally requires a bit of suspension of disbelief. This "suspension of disbelief" simply means there are usually some elements of the movie that, for you to enjoy it, you are required to suspend the "no way that's believable" factor. I had a coworker back in ye old college days who just couldn't do it. For example, he wouldn't even go see the Superman movie (1978, Christopher Reeve) because "it's stupid - people can't fly." Barring the question of whether Superman: The Movie was any good or not, it'd be difficult to enjoy if you were unwilling to accept, for the duration of the movie, that this guy could fly. But Tony wasn't willing to do so, so didn't bother to check the movie out - he had no "suspension of disbelief" ability, red sun planet or no red sun planet.

Now, even if you rule out superheros, SF movies, and blonde marketing majors going to Harvard law school, most movies require a touch of disbelief suspension; for example, the Red Sox being three games down, then winning four in a row to beat the Yankees and go on to win the World Series the exact year the couple in Fever Pitch are getting together? Come'on. But, for the movie, you make the effort to believe it might be possible.

Which brings us to Taxi. I watched the previews, and while Queen Latifah rates slightly below Al Gore in the "folks I want to see in a movie" category, I thought it might be somewhat funny. We sit back and start the movie, we being myself, SWMBO*, and Number One Son. The movie content during the opening credit routine is of a bicycle messenger doing a number of stunts (off an overpass and onto a moving eighteen wheeler, bouncing the bike onto the side of a van for a fast direction change, etc.) that require the suspension of disbelief. First, no way. Second, no way. Third, you'd be arrested. But, hey, it's a movie, I'll make the effort. Then the bike messenger slides to a stop in front of a small, cheering throng of folks, pops off the helmet, and it's Queen Latifah. I don't know if you know who Queen Latifah is, and my knowledge is skimpy (singer, I think), but I've seen her for one, and I'm looking at her for another, and I just can't wrap my mind around this chunky woman having just done the bike messenger impossible stunt routine. Yeah, round is a shape and one I resemble, but speaking for us folks in the shape of round, we can't ride bikes off of overpasses onto trucks.

Long and short, we give it another ten or so minutes to determine if she came from a planet with a red sun (apparently not), or if there's any other reason to continue watching, decide there isn't, and give up on this dog of a movie. Rated it one star (can't give zero) which, in Netflix rating, means: Hated it.

*SWMBO - She Who Must Be Obeyed, a.k.a., the wife.

Movie - Fever Pitch

Watched this the other night, a Netflix rental. It wasn't bad, but wasn't anything to get overly excited about. Very chick-flickish, of course. Gave it three stars (Netflix meaning: "Liked it"). Was predictable, more than just the usual "girl meets boy, problems occur, they get back together" kind of predictable, which is pretty typical for any chick flick, but even where the problems were going to occur and so forth.

Music . . .

. . . is a wonderful thing -- as long as it isn't an autoplay on a website. Now, it's perfectly fine to do whatever you choose with your personal little corner of the internet, but hopefully folks recognize that 95% of people who drop by their site immediately leave the site when music starts playing. If it's okay with you that they leave, then knock yourself out. But if you wonder why there is limited interaction with your site, that might well be the reason.

I'm not complaining

I got the results back from my final essay for English Comp. II, and scored 100. Now, I'm not complaining, but really it seems it ought to be more trouble to get a perfect grade. Not that I didn't work fairly hard at it, but it was the final essay, worth 35% of the total grade, and only took me about five hours. For a perfect score, it seems I should have had to work more. On the other hand, I realize most students aren't taking just one (though compressed) course, so five hours times six courses would be 30 hours in that final week. Still, that seems reasonable to me - most full-time students probably aren't working 50+ hours/week, trying to help manage a household, and a host of other drains on their time, and while thirty hours per week for six courses seems about right for a normal week, I'd think that final week would hit fifty or sixty hours. But, again, I'm not complaining - it's an A, and I'll take it.

It's a sixty minute game

Last night I was banished to the bedroom to watch Monday night football (actually, banished prior to the game starting) because SWMBO had some folks over to practice the music for the upcoming Sander's Family Christmas community play. I thought it would be the usual couple of people (Berl & Stanley being their character names), but more like fifteen or twenty showed up. Now, Berl & Stanley come over at least once per week to work on the music (I don't think most cast members realize how much extra work these three, SWMBO and the other two, put into the play so the music is ready), but this was a conflaguration (a perfectly good word) of people. But since I was going to hide in the bedroom in either case, it only mattered when I went to the kitchen for munchies - had to wind my way through guitar cases, mandolin cases, banjo cases, fiddle cases, and so forth.

But, back to to the Monday night game, the Eagles won for 56 minutes; unfortunately for them, it's a sixty minute game. Dallas makes a quick touchdown, it's a six point game. McNabb makes an errant throw, and it's a win for Dallas. The blame can be placed on the Eagles defense deciding the game was won and letting Dallas march easily for the score to cut it to six, or blame can be placed on McNabb for the bad decision on the throw. Doesn't matter, I'm a Packer fan, so who cares who wins (though I was pulling for the Eagles). But what crossed my mind is that much of life is like that; it's a sixty minute game, whether talking about a particular project, a particular goal, or life altogether. Doesn't matter how hard you work or how far you are ahead; get complacent and it can be over with a bit of a let down or an error in judgment. Just crossed my mind; must be in a philosophical mood, though this is pop philosophy at best.

On the one hand, I didn't make it, on the other, I did

Well, since I didn't walk on Sunday, I failed in my goal of seven straight days of a thirty minute spin on the treadmill. In my quest for becoming King of Procrastination, I put off both the walking and the essay I needed to write ("Self Deception in Tennessee William's The Glass Menagerie", and ended up finishing the essay around three in the morning. I'm way to old to be up at three in the morning, and certainly too old to be up on a treadmill at three in the morning. But on the other hand, the essay is complete, and that finished all the work for this English Comp II class I'm taking.

Work will be hectic today (already has been), mostly phone calls and trying to figure out this and that for various customers. Plus I sold some stuff on eBay, and need to send invoices and do some shipping today. Busy, busy, lots of fun.

Packers Win

Having been a Packer fan for somewhere between thirty-five and forty years, I've had my share of lows, lowers, and then some highs over the past few years. Given this year, though, it is nice to see today's win against the Falcons. A kid who wasn't playing and wouldn't be playing but for numerous injuries to Packer running backs came up big with three TDs, an the smile of his face at the end of the game was neat to see.

Watching it also gave me more procrastination fodder, but, alas, it's getting to now or never time on the essay.

It's sad, really

When walking for thirty minutes on a flat treadmill at a pace to make just over a mile in the thirty minutes leaves me this tired. At seventeen minutes, I wasn't sure I'd make it. Back was hurting, sweat rolling - as I said, sad, really. But that's another day gone with thirty minutes done.

I'd actually decided not to walk today (well, yesterday, now, but if I haven't gone to bed, it isn't tomorrow yet.) I forgot about walking all day, then at 11:30 PM, remembered I hadn't done so. I decided not to, to just skip it. I was ready for bed and my book, didn't want to get sweaty and tired just heading that way. So I went on to bed . . . but then, knew I wouldn't be able to type on here that I'd walked for Saturday. So now I have walked. And now I have typed. One more day down.

One thing I didn't do today was the essay I needed to work on. It's due midnight Sunday, and I had planned to finish it today. Still nice to know some things never change - I procrastinated when I was taking college classes twenty-five years ago, and I'm still doing so today. So I'm lots older, out of shape, hair turned to grey, had to switch to bifocals . . . but I'm as good at procrastination as ever.

Headache

I hate headaches, and I woke up with one. You'd think, as often as I have headaches, that I'd learn to enjoy them, develop a taste for them. Heck, I hated coffee when I first tried it, but now can't start the day out without a cup. But, no, can't seem to acquire a "taste" for headaches. Ah, well. I've popped three ibuprofen, so hopefully will be better later.

I've spent the morning on the computer and listening to SWMBO and a couple of cast members practice the songs from the upcoming A Sander's Family Christmas, (to be put on by the Pontotoc community theater group, Dec. 3rd & 4th). I promise, though, I had the headache prior to them starting. :)

Book I'm reading

Okay, one of the things I was planning to keep up with is what I've been reading/read. Currently (just started) Oliver North's Mission Compromised, the first of a trilogy of fiction novels he wrote with Joe Musser. I'm a bit over 100 pages in, and like it so far. It's a touch slow moving in setting up characters, and some of the flashbacks within flashbacks to help set up the characters was somewhat stumbling, but I think I'm past most of that. We'll see if the pace picks up, but either way I'm enjoying it.

It's Friday (okay, it's now Saturday)

Had a hectic work day, but finished up (with all I was gonna do) around 5:00. We went out to a local Japanese restaurant, our first visit there. It was good, though SWMBO decided she had had her first and last raw sushi. But her teriyaki Chicken was good, Number One Son had some combo of shrimp and steak, and I had steak with some sort of noodle.

Did my 30 minutes today; it could be I'm just getting started, but hopefully part of the reason it's been tough these first two days is because I've got this cold. I feel better today (Friday) after the shot yesterday plus the medicine I'm taking. Hopefully I'll be over this stuff soon.

Goal - (physical area)

This goal is for seven days, including today, and is to walk 30 minutes per day. I'll throw in an "at least" in case I want to go over, but the idea is no less than 30 minutes per day.

From this goal, you should get some idea of my current physical condition (abysmal). I need to lose a lot of weight. However, while I'll keep up with weight loss, it will never be a goal. Exercise and diet will be goals, and if I achieve the exercise and diet goals, I believe the weight will drop.

But for this goal, it's just to walk at least thirty minutes (on the treadmill) per day for the next seven days. I'll post as I go, and this goal will end (positively, mid-range, or negatively) on the 16th of November.

Goals

As to the goals mentioned in an earlier post: generally speaking, they are to improve myself in five areas of life: physically, spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and fiscally.

To this end, I'll have several short-term goals that will help move me farther along in each of these areas. Over time, I will develop some longer term goals to go with the short term goals, but primarily (for now) I'll stick with the short term goals, aimed to focus in one (or more) of these five areas.

Each goal will be specific, measurable, attainable, and have a time-frame attached. Short-term goals will generally be very short, just a week or two. I'll have some longer term goals that aim at months or more. I'll also develop a principle-based statement for each of the five areas that will indicate my purpose. These will be less a goal than a statement of intent, along the lines of: "I am a physically fit person who, through close attention to diet and exercise, continuously maintains a high level of physical fitness." Now, that doesn't apply now, but is the target of the "physical" area of my life.

Hate colds

I've had a nagging cough/cold for a couple of weeks now, plus strange earaches that come and last a few hours. Could be connected, but in any case I'm going to get doctored later this afternoon 'cause enough is enough.

Gotta have a "hello world" post

If you have ever learned a programming language, they traditionally start with a "hello world" program. That is, the first program you write generally is designed to display/print "hello world." So, I suppose, this would be my "hello world" post.

My primary purpose for the blogspot is to keep up with certain activities of mine: reading, writing, exercise, weight loss, and so forth. More than anything, it's for me to check the progress I make toward certain goals and, while it's shared with the world, it's doubtful I'll share it on a personal level. That's to say, it is doubtful I'll be passing out the address to friends and family. If someone drops by through aimless wandering, fine, feel free to read and respond.

As this is intended to just be a quick and dirty, flow of consciousness sort of thing, I'm not going to particularly worry about grammar, spelling, and so forth. These are just ramblings, for the most part, so don't be surprised at grammatical errors and spelling mistakes you may find along the way.

I'll add a "goal" post later, and from that I will post my progress toward those goals as time goes by. Maybe, by making them quasi-public (in an anonymous sort'a fashion), it will help me maintain the efforts toward those goals.

Ricky