The Bodyguard

This one is kind of a cheat, because it is a piece I wrote for something else, but I am already a week late, and I have a lot of stuff to do, so I'm going for it. I did at least make some edits.

In school I know was thought of as the smart one, whom you could ask for help with your homework, as well as the nice one, from whom you could borrow money and probably not pay it back. What people may not have necessarily realized is that I was also the tough one. At least, I thought I was. I knew I could handle myself in any situation, and, without being the type to start fights, I was always kind of hoping for a chance.

Yes, I was familiar with the concept of turning the other cheek, but I did not have much interest in it. For example, the last day of second grade, when our bus driver ill-advisedly said we could have a water fight on the way home, everyone brought water guns and spray bottles. I had none. When Jason S., whom I did not like anyway, stationed himself right in front of me, and started spraying, despite me being an unarmed girl, I grabbed his hair and used it to hold him to the seat until we got to his stop. When I let him up his face was beet red. I knew he was humiliated, and I was thrilled!

It was one of only two times I have had to defend myself physically. Generally I found that just being ready, confident in your clear path to victory, you did not even need to fight because your opponents would back off. The most striking example was the day I saved Lise.

Lise was in eighth grade when I was in ninth grade, and we were friends in spite of being very different. She was pale, blond, thin, and timid. Kind of rabbit-like actually, and I would probably be some sort bear, I guess. Her church was anti-Mormon, and as she kept failing to convert me, the stress of caring about someone who would not be saved really began to interfere with our friendship. I guess she eventually just consigned me to Hell, because by the time she and her brother transferred to a Christian school we had grown apart. This was before all of that.

We had made friends on the bus, and that was where the trouble started. We had just barely pulled out one day, and something ticked off the driver. I don’t know if something was thrown or someone shouted a bad word or what, but the fact that I can’t remember that part makes me think she blew it out of proportion. She pulled back into the school parking lot, and suddenly the vice principal was there and our bus was not going to move until the culprit was identified.

Although I did not do things to get in trouble, I still adhered to the basic code of the playground in that you do not snitch. For Lise, all she could think about was that if she was late her father would be mad, and she was terrified of her father. I don’t think he was abusive or anything, just stern and not comfortable. Anyway, she got off the bus with the vice principal, came back on, and the bus started for home. As subtle as that was, why they even bothered going off the bus I do not know.

Soon the news circulated that the next day, everyone was going to get off at her stop and gang up on her. I told her not to worry about it, because I would walk her home.

It was important to dress appropriately. My usual coat that year was my father’s old motorcycle jacket. I accessorized it with a studded leather wristband. I probably would never have bough either item, but I loved them both. The wristband was found while I was in line for the Matterhorn at Disneyland. I spied it on the ground from a few curves away, and hoped no one else would claim it before I got to that part of the line. It wasn’t an every day thing. I would wear it on test days or special occasions, when I wanted that extra edge. For bodyguard service it was a definite necessity.

The bus route was basically a square, from 170th turning on Blanton, then down 165th, turning right on Farmington, and doubling back onto 170th to complete the route. My stop was one of the first and Lise’s was the last. The bus progressed along the route with no one getting off. You would think after her overreaction the day before, the driver might have responded a little to the lack of exits, but we were all unusually quiet and she probably liked that.

We were sitting in front so got off first. There was a group of about seven to nine kids behind us. Part of the strategy was to not look back, just keep walking, so I only had the one brief glimpse. If I try to remember, some faces almost appear, but the only two I can identify with certainty are Melissa and Cheryl. I knew Melissa because she was dating Aaron, who had the locker next to mine and whom I liked, even though he was a year younger than me and a drug dealer. I knew Cheryl from church, and yet somehow I was not shocked to see her there. I bet her parents would have been surprised. It was not an all-girl group despite that. I think Tom might have been there, but I am not sure. I hope not. If all the teasing he took about his mentally ill mother did not turn him against bullying, I don’t know what would have.

Lise had a very long driveway, so the perfect attack spot would have been halfway up. They would not have necessarily attracted attention from either the road or the house. But nothing happened. They followed for a few steps, then disappeared. I spent a little while at Lise’s house, then walked home unmolested.

I feel confident that I did the right thing. If I had not been there, she would surely have been jumped, and hurt, and her father would totally have pressed charges, allowing the ugliness to escalate. Still, it was all pretty stupid. Why didn’t they attack her the next day when I did not escort her? Does a group attack really require that much planning? And how pathetic is it nine against one is acceptable, but throw an extra person in there and all bets are off? And how long would they have kept us on the bus if she had kept her mouth shut?

I don’t know what the answers are, but I think of all my experiences, this one may be the most definitively junior high. That and the beetle thing.

Just imagine Whitney Houston blaring over the credits. I’m not saying that I will always love Lise, but I like the song and it’s one of the last songs I remember of Whitney’s before she turned into a strung out crack ho.

The Spork Always Shines on TV

Little Sister J was horrified when I said I wasn’t going to be watching the news anymore. It wasn’t even planned. When I started listing the reasons why I did not think the local news was too much of a problem in terms of political bias I just realized that watching it was really a waste of time. I’ve always got more things that I want to do than I really have time for, so putting time into such a poor quality product is just silly. Sorry Wayne and Shawna!

(This is off topic, but Wayne Garcia has always seemed very plasticky to me. He has kind of a sheen.)

Anyway, we can always talk about television some more. Living with three other people, plus one frequent (like every night) visitor, I don’t try and take control over the TV very often. It’s just not worth the effort. I approve of Little Sister M’s obsession with House, and can tolerate the frequent viewings of Little House on the Prairie, but if I was taking control, the schedule would be somewhat different. Priorities would be My Name is Earl, Scrubs, and The Office. I have heard good things about Everybody Hates Chris, but have only been able to see an episode recently.

I’m not sure that I like it. It may have been a weaker episode of theirs, or that I wasn’t paying enough attention, or it could even be that it just doesn’t appeal to me, despite my fondness for Terry Crews. However, I can’t rule out the possibility that it just hit too close to home.

After establishing that their poverty and Dad’s thrifty nature means living on generic products, Dad gets lucky and stumbles across $200 in food stamps. This means that Mom can go shopping for brand names, and she has a great time doing so, but when she gets to checkout an acquaintance shows up, and Mom’s pride causes her to, instead of paying with the food stamps, pull out the $100 grocery money that was going to be freed up to use for something else, like maybe a family outing or the light bill. Due to additional mix-ups, the food stamps pay for Mom’s hair appointment and the lights get shut off.

It just hurts! It good have been such a windfall. The groceries were around $98, so they could have had another shopping trip, plus electricity, and gone to see Rocky III. It’s not the movie I would have picked, but still!

It’s not that poverty jokes put me off, but losing a good chance like that hurts a lot. So I may give it another chance, but it may be too painful for me. I know people who can’t find The Office or Dilbert funny, and I understand why, but it doesn’t affect me that way.

Regardless of my personal hang-ups, I’m sure it is still a good show, and there is something to be said for that. There have been a lot of horrible sitcoms out there.

I think the worst that I have seen personally is Full House. Now, I admit that I did not watch it when it was on originally, so I don’t have any nostalgia cushioning the impact. That being said, it really sucks. How did it last for eight years? Even if it was a good show, it would crumble under the weight of having spawned the evil empire known as Mary-Kate and Ashley. As it is, there’s just no excuse. I much preferred the blended household of Family Matters.

I think after The A-team wrapped up we really only watched sitcoms, so I can’t really comment on television dramas of the eighties or nineties, but I know one of the most disturbing things I have seen on television was an episode of Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman.

I have only seen the one episode, and that was fairly recently on cable, so I don’t know if this was typical. Anyway, a wagon full of sick orphans pulls into town, and Dr. Quinn and the preacher try to help, but none of the other townspeople are really interested. Yes, the storekeeper teaches one orphan that smoking is bad, and the oldest girl almost gets a job as a prostitute. That falls through because the current prostitute decides that it is more important to sacrifice herself and save the young girl from a degrading life where she can support herself and her crippled brother. (I guess there’s only room in town for one hooker.)

Meanwhile, the time Jane Seymour is spending with the new orphans and the preacher (who would like to marry her and adopt them all) alienates her boyfriend and her old orphans, so they kick the entire wagon-load out of town. We’re sorry, we can’t help you, but keep going and stick together and we’re sure something will work out. Yeah, if by working out you mean dying one by one of illness and starvation until the rest are devoured by coyotes.

I can see where it might happen in real life, but it’s not a good thing. And since this is not real life, you don’t have to construct such a dire scenario. I bet the episode writer secretly hated the entire cast, and wanted to make them look bad. Sneaky.

Next week I will try and talk about something other than television, but it may be hard. Do you know that when I try to remember childhood summer vacations, the first thing that comes to mind is watching The Bionic Woman? It was on around ten in the morning I think, on channel 12. I know we rode bikes and played hide and seek and all kinds of tag, and walk to Cook’s Market, and when I wanted to be alone I would curl up by a fan with a book and glass bottle of pop out of the refrigerator, but yeah, the first thing that comes to mind is Jaime Sommers, and that sound effect they used to convey bionic-ness.

Why do they slow down the footage to convey running really fast anyway? Wouldn’t it make more sense to speed it up?

At The Movies

I’ve had a little more time for movie viewing this week, so did get to watch both Outfoxed and Rififi from my Blockbuster* queue. I suppose Netflix* is better known, but I got a special introductory offer to Blockbuster Online, and went with them. One thing I like about them is that in addition to the mailed DVDs, I also get two free store rentals a month, which is nice if you suddenly get an impulse to watch something now.

For our local news, we watch the Fox affiliate, mainly out of habit and because it is on at 10 and we are all really tired by 11. It used to be that KPTV 12 was the UPN affiliate and the Fox affiliate was KPDX 13 (49 on UHF), but they switched a few years back. Since that time, the amount of technical difficulties, spelling errors, and other issues has gone up, plus there is just way too much coverage of American Idol. We tended to blame the decline in quality on the departure of John Sears, who is a nice man and a good news director. KPDX denied an increase in errors when asked. The American Idol coverage is, of course, just blatant pimping of their own product, and every channel does that. The Channel 8 (NBC affiliate) has had behind the scenes stories on ER and so on. It just seems to be worse with Fox.

Anyway, Fox news seems to leave you knowing less about world affairs, much less than people who get their news from public broadcasting. I guess I am not really surprised. I mean, it might not even be that viewers get less informed by watching Fox; Fox might attract the less informed to start with.

I doubt it has much of an affect on what we watch, because the local news is more about local shootings and fires and conflicts between the police and City Hall, plus their weekly exposes of restaurants that do poorly with health inspections and investigations of men trolling for slutty teenage girls over the internet. Therefore, the extreme and unrepentant political bias that you get on their nationwide news or “news” shows (Hannity and Colmes, The O’Reilly Factor, etc.,) are probably not an issue for my family, at least not to a large extent. Still, going over the issues that have already been mentioned, it’s hard to feel like they are a good time investment. So, I won’t be watching any TV news for a while. I don’t want to risk any dumbening (that’s a Simpson’s reference, a Fox product of which I approve).

I also saw a theater movie this week, Take the Lead. Last week I gave Mad Hot Ballroom the victory over Spellbound for documentaries. I also give Mad Hot Ballroom the victory over Take the Lead, which is basically its dramatic version.

Naturally, there were plot contrivances and shortcuts, but one expects this in a dance movie. You put up with it to get to the dancing. I don’t think these plot contrivances were so bad that needed to take me out of the film. We had kids in permanent detention who did not have the personality or study habits of kids that you would expect in permanent detention, but I can live with that. You had a ridiculously prejudiced math teacher, protesting the resources wasted on these loser kids. That one doesn’t make sense because he refused to take time to cover detention himself, so when an unpaid volunteer starts covering detention, that should be a relief. However, maybe they knew people were going to think, Oh, it’s a cross between Mad Hot Ballroom and Stand and Deliver, so to differentiate they made the math teacher an uncaring jerk. Finally, they had the climactic dance contest, Caitlin’s cotillion, and Rock’s illegal job all happen on the same night. Well, that’s just a film staple. You’ve got to let those kinds of coincidences happen.

In addition, the movie had some good things going for it. I thought the acting was okay, especially the kids. (Make that the actors portraying kids. The guy who played Ramos is in his thirties.) I liked that they did not show the new kids automatically winning every prize (and that the three-way tango was scored appropriately). In fact, you only see the disposition of one prize, and that is fine because winning is not the point— being able to compete and hold their own is the point.

Nope, the problem is the dancing. It just wasn’t magical enough. In fact, the three-way tango was kind of tacky. Yes, tango is very sexual, but it is also elegant and generally classy. Usually, when I come out of a dance movie there is an extra spring in my step, thinking of the moves, and I have a deep need to buy the soundtrack. I’m not buying the soundtrack.

(Also, the poster totally has the wrong look and feel, including the tagline. Never follow? They have a part where they talk about following. It does not work for this movie.)

I have season tickets to the opera, because I know that even at its worst I will usually get something out of it. I will sometimes get tickets for a particular ballet or other dance season, but generally I just pick and choose performances. The reason for this is that although when dance is good, it moves me more than anything else, when it is bad it is a really big disappointment, and often vulgar.

So Take the Lead was not awful, but it was disappointing. I wasn’t expecting it to be another Strictly Ballroom, or even Dirty Dancing, but I was hoping it could at least be in the realm of Dance with Me (Cheyenne and Vanessa Williams), which would not be considered a great movie, but it was exhilarating to watch the dancing and then I bought the soundtrack. For live dance, Trey McIntyre is a talented choreographer, but he also finds some amazing music that you may never have heard before but you are glad that he found it.

I guess my point is that there is better stuff out there, but you wouldn’t know it from walking around the theater. Movie posters have shown me that upcoming films include a third Fast and the Furious movie, a remake of The Omen, a remake of My Friend Flicka (which might not even suck, but how dry is the idea well now?), and, of utmost concern, Little Man, a Wayans brothers’ flick where “A wannabe dad (Shawn Wayans) mistakes a vertically challenged criminal on the lam (Marlon Wayans) as his newly adopted son.” Okay, White Chicks was better than I expected it to be, and this might end up being better also, but if you saw the poster you would not have high hopes.

Oh well, theaters are really expensive anyway. I’m just hoping that the Grand Lodge will get in King Kong. I have not seen it yet, I think a big screen would be beneficial, but it’s pretty much second-run now, the Valley has already had it, and Grand Lodge is the only McMenamin’s that is really accessible for me. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Inspired by The Office, Part 2

If I am in fact going to celebrate my birthday in May by going out and doing karaoke, I could use some suggestions on a spot. I know nothing about the scene. I would like it to be smoke-free. (I doubt alcohol-free exists. Even people who don’t drink like knowing that the audience is drunk.) Most of all, it is important that there is a good music selection. When they show it on television, it seems like everything is either country or elevator music. The big exceptions that recur again and again are “Respect” and “I’ve Got You Babe”. Well, I’m pretty sure I can’t pull off Aretha Franklin, and no one sounds good singing “I’ve Got You Babe”, including Sonny and Cher.

Anyway, as long as we are thinking about The Office, Television Without Pity did an interview with BJ Novak (Ryan the temp), and he made a point that it is easier to show than to explain:

http://www.televisionwithoutpity.com/story.cgi?show=56&story=8897&page=1&sort=&limit=

“I think that really good television is at a higher level than a lot of movies. I think they haven't had that big clearing house that reality TV was, where it was like, "Okay, we don't like this kind of crap that's imitating other crap that's imitating other crap. We're going to show you how people really are for two years. There'll be nothing else on the air but videos showing actual people, and then you can start again, with television imitating real life." Movies haven't had that, I guess, because you see a comedy in the theatres, and they're hitting these familiar beats that have nothing to do with real people's experience or making fun of things that are really in people's lives. And I think, you know, The Office, Earl, South Park, the shows I mentioned are kind of more based in the real rhythms of conversation and stuff. So it's actually a little harder to watch movies, working on TV.”

It really struck me, and I recounted it to a few people (that’s why I know that it is just easier to quote directly). One friend said, “So, just do nothing but documentaries for a few years?”

Well, that might not be a bad idea. This year, before May, we have already had twelve movies sneak into theaters without being screened by critics. Remakes and sequels are not always bad, but there have definitely been better periods in film history. Maybe this is why we are seeing more documentaries with mainstream success.

If nothing else, the making of a good documentary requires passion about a subject. I seem to recall reading about one film for which the makers collected over 800 hours of footage. I believe 200 hours is a little more common, but for the Metallica one it was about 1200 hours. That is a huge commitment, not just for the film time, but then you need to edit it. It doesn’t mean everyone does it well, but you can find some interesting stuff.

Here are some films that I have enjoyed in the past year or so. Oddly, I seem to have seen two films in every category, so I am going to treat them in pairs. Remember, just because I may say one is better is no reason not to see both.

Surfing: Riding Giants and Step Into Liquid

Riding Giants was the first one I saw, focusing on big wave surfing. I’m glad I saw it first because I enjoyed it, and it was great, but Step Into Liquid was so much more engaging. Riding Giants is largely historical, so there is some footage but a lot of it is interview. Step Into Liquid follows people into the surf, now, in places you might not expect. Maybe these surfers have less ego and more sense of fun. Plus, the locations and cinematography are just gorgeous. None of which is to say that Riding Giants is bad; when they ran it on TV recently I settled right back in. Still, Step Into Liquid was more exciting and also more accessible. I would like to try surfing some day; but I know I will not be looking for the big waves.

Middle East: Control Room and Inside Iraq: The Untold Stories

This one is more of a toss-up. I would say the quality of Control Room is higher, but that Inside Iraq may be more important. They are both important and both gripping.

Control Room spends a year with the Arab network Al-Jazeera. They get kind of a bad name over here. The film even shows footage of Donald Rumsfeld discounting the accuracy of some of their reports, and yet you get to see them trying to find balance and accuracy in their reporting, and you know that it is incredibly important to have a source of news over there that is not run by clerics or political leaders. You also see that despite disagreeing with the invasion, many of the staff express a great respect for America and for the Constitution. I think I would have to trust them over Rumsfeld.

Inside Iraq is just a guy, Mike Shiley, wandering around Iraq with a camera, visiting mine sweepers, a children’s hospital, a Christian church, and various markets and gatherings, as well as spending some time with the military. There is sort of a homemade feel to it, which is only natural, and the footage is interspersed with commentary he filmed later. The commentary is a bit repetitive, because it keeps coming back to one message, but that message is a good one: Look at the other side. Stop and think about this. Those points are why I say Control Room was better made, but Inside Iraq hit me harder on a visceral level, especially when he gives updates on some of the people that he spent time with.

You should really see both. When I saw it, Inside Iraq had not gotten wide distribution (in my case, the filmmaker brought the movie to Cinema 21 and hung around for Q & A), but you can order it at http://www.insideiraqthemovie.com/. Control Room should be available through normal channels.

Rock & Roll: End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones and Metallica: Some Kind of Monster

Okay, I can’t be completely fair here, because the Ramones are on my personal greatest bands of all time list, and I don’t really like Metallica. I believe they are talented and good at what they do, but it is not my thing. The younger sisters love them, though, so we had to watch.

Oddly, the Ramones are the ones with a song called Psychotherapy, but Metallica is the band who gets psychotherapy, doing group sessions and rehab and working out all of the angst that led to powerful metal music, but does build tension. I am interested in psychology of course, so it was interesting on that level, but also, I really wanted them to be able to work it out. After sharing so much and having been through so much, it would be a shame if they had to split up, and even worse than a shame if you never do work out your emotional garbage. My strongest feeling, however, was deep sympathy for Kirk Hammett, the peacemaker caught in the middle. (Bob Rock too, but he would not be spending as much time with them.) For Kirk’s sake especially, I am glad that they got help. Two final thoughts on it: Megadeath is not number 2 to Metallica’s number 1, and get over it anyway, Dave Mustaine.

End of the Century was just excellent. You really get a feel for the history of the scene, and there are some great interviews. One of my other greatest bands is the Clash, and it really reminded me how much we lost when Joe Strummer died. He was so personable and well-spoken, and he’s in it because the Ramones really inspired the Clash (by saying don’t wait until you acquire more musical skill, just go for it now). Also, I feel more justified in despising the Sex Pistols after seeing it because, and I am simplifying this, they ruined the scene for others, rather than being a cornerstone of what punk should be.

I believe the movie conveys a strong anti-drug message with pretty much all footage of Dee Dee Ramone. It’s not just that he died of an overdose; it’s the decay that preceded it. And all right, I don’t even know how many brain cells he had to lose, and I don’t think he considered himself particularly good-looking before, but still, ouch.

Actually, this is a band that might have been well-advised to hire their own life coach/counselor, but I don’t care. I love them anyway.


Childhood Education: Mad Hot Ballroom and Spellbound

I’ve taken some ballroom dancing and I was my school spelling champion three times (I always got knocked out in district, same kid at least twice), so both spoke to me.

Spellbound has some very touching moments and some sad and scary moments. Most of the scary moments involve the parents. You get a good look at eight different families, and the differences between them are amazing as their children all head to the same place. I’m afraid there was one major irritant for me though, with this one, extreme nerd kid with a Horshack laugh. They may have spent too much time on him, but they main thing that bugged me is that in the after interview he keeps insisting that they pronounced the word he missed (banns) wrong. He thought he heard a “d” on the end. They did not pronounce it wrong. It’s on tape.

To be fair, I have had the exact same thing happen, so I understand. I missed “omnipresent” because I had never heard such a word or had any idea that it existed. I was thinking omnipotent or omniscient, and the sample sentence they used, “Some students feel like their teachers are omnipresent,” did not help at all. The word is too unfamiliar to the brain to compute. I get it. However, the professional announcer repeated the word multiple times, with witnesses and people checking for accuracy, and you just need to accept that it’s not him, it’s you.

The kids in Mad Hot Ballroom do sometimes have these attitudes where they think they know more than they do, as is normal, but instead of focusing on eight individuals, they are focusing on three classes with multiple participants, so there is less of a chance for anyone to dominate. Plus, there’s dancing, which pretty much always wins me over. Some moments I really liked are when teachers cut loose after a meeting and do their own dancing, including the electric slide, and the look of rapture on one mother’s face as she watches her child compete. It’s good stuff.

There are more, but these are the ones that come to mind as the most compelling. Still, I just got Outfoxed: Rupert Murdoch’s War on Journalism, so we will see how that goes.

Inspired by The Office

One thing that I began to notice on the cruise was that I am really remarkably average. I had always assumed I was inferior, except for my brain, but most of the things that have caused me to worry about fitting in are pretty commonplace. Whether or not that bodes well for the nation is a separate topic.

Regardless, there are still some things about me that are fairly odd, and here are some:

I cannot remember the rules to any card game beyond the durations of the game. I have played Hearts and Poker and Uno and Go Fish, but I could not teach them to anyone, or play them right now without a brief refresher. (Well, okay, I remember how to play 52 Pickup.)

I am right-handed, but I hold my pen like a left-handed person does. This may account for my poor handwriting, but this hardly matters in the computer age because I type well.

Finally, I have a fanatical obsession with bear safety. When someone mentions bears, I am likely to launch into a short lecture on it with no other provocation. I get this feeling in my stomach. It is sort of a hybrid of panic and indignation. People need to know what to do about bears!

I guess it started when I first read the Worst Case Scenario handbook, and then I saw a television special about random hiking camping problems that included but was not limited to bear attacks. In the special, one of the hikers had thrown his pack at the bear to distract it, only the bear was not distracted and took a swipe at his retreating figure. Since the backpack was no longer there as a buffer, he got tore up a bit. He lived, though, so it still could have been worse.

The problem was that conventional wisdom was wrong. The first response that a lot of people will give if you ask them what to do is to play dead. I suppose the reason that started is that most of the time the bear will not be that interested, and so will leave you alone anyway. However, if you have one of those rare aggressive bears, lying down with your eyes closed is not a great defensive position. Other common responses are throw your pack at it, which has its own risks as previously mentioned, or climbing a tree. Bears climb trees.

So, there were ideas out there that were wrong and deeply rooted, but I felt that it was silly of me to get so worked up over it. After all, how common is it to run into a bear? Except, the first two times I launched into the lectures, everyone had a bear encounter story, so that just reinforced it during the critical phase.

Why do I bring this up now? Well, The Office is a pretty funny show, and they have been doing these hilarious public service announcements during their commercials. Technically, they are mock PSAs, but the real ones I have seen lately are so stupid, it’s like they are already parodies of themselves anyway. Most of the ones given by The Office cast, in character, actually make good points, but Dwight gave one about black and brown bears that put me into lecture mode.

You can view many of the videos at the NBC site, but they don’t seem to have the bear one in there, probably due to the recent death in Tennessee. However, you can read transcripts at another site:

http://www.nbc.com/The_Office/video/office_psa_beer.shtml
http://www.officetally.com/?p=119#more-119

“When attacked by a bear, simply lie still on the ground, and cover your face and head with your hands. When the bear is finished batting you around and mauling you, contact the U.S. Forest Service”

That is bad advice. Stupid Dwight. But the others are pretty much correct. Black jellybeans are gross, it is never funny to smash cake into the bride’s face, and you should never ever tape yourself having sex. I have mixed feelings about not being ashamed to call fouls in pickup basketball, but there are probably people with whom it is necessary. Pervasive flagrant fouls can spoil the fun for everyone.

Back to bears, if you are out hiking and see a bear, start a calm retreat. That will usually be enough. If the bear is hungry, wounded, or a mother bear with cubs, the odds of attack are greater. If the bear starts to charge you, run as fast as you can and keep running. Bears are a lot faster than they look, but they can run faster uphill than downhill, so if you have the option of running downhill, go for it. Yes, that is a good way of breaking your neck, but you do what you have to do.

Internet discussions on bear safety will often focus on the best ammunition with which to shoot the bear. Most hikers and campers that I know are not armed, but if you are going that route, I suggest that you do not miss. I am also aware that some people recommend pepper spray, but I suspect that is going to be another one of those things that would only work if the bear wasn’t that interested anyway.

Fortunately, the percentage of bear encounters that turn fatal is way less than one percent, but it can happen. Don’t let it be because you took bad advice.

Casting Call

First off, I must say that no more than half an hour after my last posting, it occurred to me, “Hey, I bet the original Brat Pack was rounded out by Kiefer Sutherland, son of Donald Sutherland.” It wasn’t a matter of just remembering something after you no longer need it (famous instances for me being Joyce Kilmer, Toni Morrison, and the Missoula Flood), but the research actually led to my answer.

In the Wikipedia entry for the Brat Pack, it lists various movies and the presence of The Lost Boys was bugging me. Why, I was thinking, because Jami Gertz had a bit part in Sixteen Candles? Because Kiefer was in both Young Guns movies with Emilio? And then I remembered that he has a famous father and it made good sense. Sorting through young and pretty people can be so confusing.

Less young and pretty, but also less annoying, one key advantage of being in the Frat Pack is that you get pretty steady work. One person or another is always starting a new project, and buddies tend to get pulled in. If you can’t get in good with them, though, you should try getting in good with a casting director.

Casting is a really important job. I would say that the best non-documentary movie I saw last year was Batman Begins. The production values were good, pacing was tight, good script, and a mostly excellent cast. After all, how can you go wrong with Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, and Liam Neeson? Easy! You cast Katie Holmes as the love interest. It could have been worse, because it was a relatively small part and she did not have a lot to do. Still, she sucked the life out of two scenes, and one was at the very end, dulling what should have been a much stronger impression.

I think one of the most impressive casting jobs I have ever seen has been Angels in the Outfield, cast by Pam Dixon. Naturally, I first watched it for O.B. Babbs, and at the time I just thought of it as a cute film. Watching it a few years later, however, whoa, there were a lot of newly familiar faces.

Before we discuss the casting, I am going to digress and vent on a pet peeve of mine. When Roger tells Knox to have Hemmerling pinch hit, Knox objects that Hemmerling couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. That’s an insult for pitchers, not hitters! It makes no sense! Okay, I feel better getting that out. Back to casting.

Now, the three leads probably don’t count. I would guess that Danny Glover, Tony Danza, and Christopher Lloyd all probably had something along the lines of three-picture deals with Disney, where their involvement was set up from the get-go. But after that, whom do we have? Oscar winner Brenda Fricker, future Oscar winner Adrien Brody, and future heartthrob Matthew McConaughey.

In addition, you have some really solid but less famous actors. Joseph Gordon-Levitt became pretty well known through Third Rock from the Sun. Now he seems to be focusing on independent films, but his acting has received consistently positive reviews. Neal McDonough may not be seeing his series getting renewed, but again he is getting critical acclaim for his work, and that does not happen to everyone who works with the Rock.

Then of course we have Dermot Mulroney, who I already think was somewhat known, but for such a small and unsympathetic role as Roger’s father he was so sympathetic to me.

There are others, not quite as well known perhaps, but working steadily, which is a really good sign. I would like to see Stoney Jackson and Tony Longo get more recognition, but often for an actor just working enough so that you don't have to wait tables to survive is success.

Looking over Pam’s IMDB credits, she does seem to have a knack of picking up actors and using them before they really catch the public’s attention. I’m impressed at the talent that went into what was probably never destined to be anything other than a small family film. The only really comparable achievement that comes to mind is Coming to America, cast by Jackie Burch. However, most of that cast is more known for ensemble television shows (Eriq LaSalle for ER, Vondie Curtis Hall for Chicago Hope, and Shari Headley for All My Children), where you don’t get as well known, so the one who stands out most is Samuel L. Jackson. Incidentally, Jackie Burch cast Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club, bringing us back to the beginning.

So, I will return to Batman Begins, and say that before I saw it, they showed a preview for The Dukes of Hazzard, which did not seem like an at all auspicious beginning. I remember thinking, You could not pay me to watch that. I realize now, that’s not really true. I could use some extra money, and I think for forty dollars or more, I would watch it. But I’d be thinking about other movies.

Celebrity Packs

Spork grew up in a magical time called the 80’s. Music was danceable, cable was expanding, and the drab golds, greens, and oranges of the 70’s were replaced by vivid reds, royal purples, and electric blues. Hair and earrings were big, stores began aging your denim for you, and lots of people wore hats.

It was a fine time, and its cinema was dominated by the Brat Pack. Who was the Brat Pack? Now that was a loosely defined group! If you look at the cast of St. Elmo’s Fire and The Breakfast Club, you are off to a good start, but that is only the starting point. Twice in my lifetime I have vague memories of people asking about it in “Walter Scott's Personality Parade” (PARADE), and him saying that originally it referred to a specific group of actors, which included Nicolas Cage, and then it just expanded.

I never thought too much about it, until I read somewhere else that the Rat Pack originally referred to a bunch of buddies that Humphrey Bogart hung out with, and Sinatra was the only person in the popularly perceived Rat Pack who was in the original Rat Pack.

Now the nice thing about the two Rat Packs is that they are pretty well documented, between biographies, autobiographies, and film footage. I don’t know that people will really be looking for biographies of Andrew McCarthy ten years from now, but I could be wrong.

The important thing is, I sensed a trend. Nicknames are assigned, and then the assignation mutates. I waited for the next one, and it came along sometime after the release of Good Will Hunting, with attempts to bring the Frat Pack into usage. It fizzled, if for no other reason than that you need more than two people in a pack. If they had tried to bring in everyone from the cast of School Ties, they probably could have made it work. A more appropriate addition would have been Owen Wilson and Wes Anderson, school buddies who work together, and that it is interesting because when the term Frat Pack was resurrected, Owen Wilson was in it.

This group is also known as the Slacker Pack, and brings in Ben Stiller, Will Ferrell, Vince Vaughn, and for some reason Jack Black even though I can’t really see that he has done that much with them. Then again, these packs tend to have loose boundaries.

I have thought about this a lot, and I think one issue is that gossip columnists and entertainment writers are going to have different perceptions than the movie-going public. People may party together more than they work together. Also, two or three people with things in common may draw attention, but it doesn’t really stick together until you have at least four.

Here’s what I think went down with the original Brat Pack. I think someone was seeing this rising generation of actors with Hollywood bloodlines. Nicolas Cage is a Coppola, I am willing to bet that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen were in it, as sons of Martin Sheen, and there was probably at least one other. Maybe Robert Downey Jr. I’d say Jamie Lee Curtis if she was a little younger. Anyway, it makes sense, it has a nice hook, but Cage is off the beaten track while the other two are making teen movies in this group where not only do the same people keep acting together, but some of them are dating each other. Let’s not forget that your film roles dictate your placement in teen magazines. I don’t think I ever saw a pin-up of Cage in Tiger Beat.

Now we could go back and forth about who belongs in which pack or how to classify the recurring tertiary characters, but do not expect it to become concrete. Just remember that in Hollywood, it really is not what you know, but whom.

That being said, I’d like to make some predictions about future packs.

In 2007, Colin Farrell, Jesse James, and Dennis Rodman form the Tat Pack. Since there are only three of them, they don’t do the same type of work, and it’s a gross thing to celebrate, they are quickly disbanded.

In 2008, a passel of new actors hailing from Riga is christened the Latt Pack. Later on as other South Eastern Europeans break into American Cinema, even Croats and Serbs are referred to as Latt Packers. Since a few of them are every bit as dreamy as Goran Visnjic, people are too distracted to complain.

In 2009, as eating and exercise disorders take their toll, a gossip columnist snickeringly refers to a quartet of anorexic and underdeveloped actresses as the Flat Pack. Derided for his cruelty and sexism, he still escapes with minor injuries compared to what would have happened if he had named a Fat Pack.

In 2010, several actors who aren’t getting parts anyway begin acquiring vineyards and producing wine (because everyone knows there is a shortage of alcohol in Hollywood). They are nick named the Vat Pack.

In 2011, a bunch of big-pimpin’ hip-hop artists form the Phat Pack, riding around in stretch HumVees and buying gold together. Things end on a bloody note when a disagreement on ornamental dentistry turns violent at their Labor Day barbecue.

In 2011, the Farrelly Brothers and the Wayans Brothers address the need for more toilet humor in movies, forming the Scat Pack. Sick at heart, Spork retires to a cave with a DVD player and waits for things to blow over.

Yeah, yeah. Just be glad I decided to stick to one-syllable words ending in “at”. I was also looking at Nougat, Zagat, and Latka packs. (Not the potato pancakes. That would be Jim Carrey, feeling that his career is dead, so hitting the road with a group of Andy Kaufman impersonators.)

Additional reading:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brat_pack
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rat_Pack
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frat_pack

Down Mexico Way

I’m not being as regular about these updates as I had intended.

First of all, as an aside I have to say that this is a marvelous time for discovery. First they find new and rare species in an area of New Guinea practically untouched by man, then they find the first new un-raided Egyptian tomb since King Tut. That seemed pretty cool all by itself, but suddenly there is a new cave so large that you can fly two helicopters inside of it with more new species in Venezuela, and the largest Macedonian tomb ever gets unearthed shortly after that. Finally, diatomyids are discovered in Laos, a species that was thought to have gone into extinction about 11 million years ago. A lot more could be said on that, but I will only make two points.

One, I hope this is cheering for all the scientists and academics who are seeing their work ignored and insulted for political reasons. They could use the boost.

Secondly, there is so much to see and do that perhaps we should all make a point of exploring more in this large and interesting world. With that, I shall tidily segue into my time in Mexico.

I won’t be doing this in the tips format, though I may throw in some good advice here and there. I am just going to tell you what happened, and the order it happened in.

Let me backtrack to say that when I first started wanting to go to Mexico, it was a dark and gloomy November. The newspaper had a travel insert from American Express featuring Mexico, and there were just some gorgeous photos of wonderful things. I began to think, hey, maybe I could get away for my birthday. Well, I didn’t that year. It goes back to the whole rotten January, need to change my birthday thing. (By the way, I have decided that yes, I will celebrate my birthday this May, and that it will involve karaoke. More details will follow.)

Anyway, I did not get my tropical vacation that year, but I was left with the desire to go, and I knew that my ideal trip would have to involve two things, Xcaret and Mayan ruins.

Xcaret is an ecological park, which is right up my alley anyway, but the part that especially caught my attention was floating down an underground river. That was our first day on shore.

Technically, the port of call was Cozumel. Essentially we parked at sea, and you could take a seven minute tender (that’s what they call the shuttle boats) ride to the island of Cozumel, known as an excellent place for shopping, or you could take a forty minute tender ride to Playa del Carmen on the mainland.

I was very grateful to have picked up prescription sunglasses before the trip. It is really nice to be able to both keep your eyes open and make out shapes more than five feet away. It would not have hurt to have a good wide-brimmed hat. I picked up a little sunburn just on the way over.

We debarked at the end of a pier, and tour guides for the various excursions were waiting for us. Our guide was Caspar, who added “the friendly ghost” every time he introduced himself. There was a short wait for our bus, and while we waited two different men came by selling hats and a guitarist came and started singing Cielito Lindo. I found it charming, and I bought a hat, though the second guy’s hats were better. You can’t always predict that though.

The area where we waited had some really nice hotels, and the beach looked great. In addition to the regular beach chairs, there were mattresses with posts and curtains that looked really inviting, but our bus was there and it was time to go.

One thing we saw in both Playa del Carmen and Progreso was a great amount of hurricane damage. Some places were under repair or already repaired, but there were spots that were just rubble and probably going to remain that way for a while. Caspar told us that when he is heading to Tulum there are places where he just needs to close his eyes because it is so sad.

There was a lot of construction going on in the park itself, and I believe some of this was for repair of storm damage. It made it a little harder to get around, so we did not get to see as much of the park as would have been nice. We decided to do the swim first, and could just not find a place to change without going all the way back to the entrance. In retrospect, I would have gone wearing my swimsuit beneath my clothes.

There are two other things that I would have changed. One is that I had read that you could not have sunscreen in the park, to protect the environment. This is true, but you can wear biodegradable sunscreen, and if you take your regular sunscreen and turn it in at the gate, they will give you sample packets of the biodegradable kind, and then you can pick up your own bottle on the way out. This is the way to go, because buying a new bottle of the eco-friendly kind in the park is expensive.

In addition, I would have worn my Tevas instead of my sneakers, and kept them on in the river. There were areas where I scraped my feet a little. It wasn’t bad but as they would not have impeded my swimming much, the tradeoff for the extra protection would have been okay.

The way it works is that you put all of your stuff into a big back that they lock up, and give you the key. The bags are then sent to the end of the passage, more than a kilometer away. You must wear a life jacket, which does impede the swimming, but then they don’t have to watch you every single minute, so it works out better for everyone.

We had unusually warm weather for that time of year, so stepping into the cool, underground water, and just floating on down was great. The current was not as strong as I expected, so you did have to propel yourself, but we were pretty much taking it easy anyway. This was just as well, as anytime I was attempting faster or more precise movements, I was appalled at how clumsy the life jacket made me. They do make you stop and pose for pictures at a few places, so that was usually when the maneuvering was worst.

Once you get out there is more beach, and it is absolutely gorgeous, but there was not time to enjoy it all. We got to see quail hatchlings, flamingos, macaws, butterflies, pumas, jaguar, and bats, but we missed turtles, manatees, dolphins, bees, deer, and tapirs. Also they have shows and a spa. Given that Playa del Carmen also has access to Tulum, well, it is clear to me that I am just going to have to go back and spend a week there to really get my fill. I can live with that.

For one thing, I need to try the Ah Cacao Chocolate Café. I bough a few bars in the gift shop, and after I tried them I wished I had bought more, but you can only get them in town.

http://www.xcaret.com/

http://www.ahcacao.com/

Now, you may have seen models or toys of traditional Mexican buses with ceramic pigs and vegetables on the top. That was what our tour bus was. On the way there we rode inside, and it was nice, and air-conditioned. On the way back on of our fellow cruisers convinced her mother and us to try riding in the open part on the back. This was a little more adventurous but still fun. We probably did look slightly crazy, but I think the woman riding her bike in the traffic was crazier. Apparently, a lot of the things that we feel really firmly about here, like travel in different directions belonging in different lanes, is more of a guideline there. It may be best to leave driving to the professionals.

We would have liked to spend more time in the town, but needed to make the boat. This was the tender ride of the restless tequila. I spoke with and observed many nice and pleasant people on the ride, but that is probably what stood out the most.

During the night we rounded the Yucatan peninsula, docking in Progreso. No tenders were needed here. You merely walked across a short gangway to a longer dock that led to some more beach and shopping, and of course, tour buses. I must say, I thought it was awesome that there was a mariachi band playing. It is also the first time I have seen pelicans in the wild, and they were all over the harbor.

Our tour guide here was Augusto. We had signed up for Mayan ruins and a Mexican rodeo. We went first to Dzibilchaltun, the place of the writing on the flat rock.

I appreciated that the one of the first things they did when they had us all on the bus was hand out water bottles. There was not a lot of hiking for our particular tour, but still it was a hot day, and people collapsing would have ruined it for everyone.

The main area we explored was a gathering area with stone bleachers set up. Our guide told us that inside it was partitioned into different government offices. The dominant building in the area was a church, built with stones taken from the older, Mayan buildings, but you could see bases and other things. The basis for the settlement was a large pool, or cenote, where they believed the rain god lived. As the Catholics continued to interfere with their religious practices, the village was eventually abandoned. At one point the cenote was used to water cattle, so you could see remnants of the old corral as well.

The most amazing structure was one that we only saw from a distance, the Temple of the Seven Dolls. It was actually an observatory, and is structured so as to receive the light in certain ways during the solstices and each equinox. I believe we were not taken there due to time constraints, but they may also try to limit traffic.

They have a museum there as well, where we spent some time, but we soon needed to return to the bus where we were shuttled over to Rancho Tierra Bonita. Here they had set up a nice Mexican buffet lunch for us, to be followed by singing, dancing, and the rodeo.

Rodeo may have been too strong a word. They primarily demonstrated rope tricks and heeling, although that was pretty cool. Nonetheless, I have been given to understand that a real Mexican rodeo is a lot more competitive, dangerous, and intoxicated.

There were also tables set up with various local wares. I bought a tablecloth at the named price, and as the woman took my money to make change, she crossed herself. My first thought was that she was grateful for the sale, but then in my mind I wondered if she was merely grateful for the sucker. I had not bargained at all. So on my next purchase, a toy involving pecking chickens on a paddle, I did bargain and then I felt guilty that I might have been too harsh. Also, I then dropped it, and one of the chickens is kind of broken. I don’t think I am cut out for bargaining.

This time when we got back to the dock, we actually had some time, so we wandered through the shops set there expressly to capitalize on the cruise ship tourists. I bought some Dooney & Bourke stuff, mainly to irritate Little Sister Sporks, but they are so sure the stuff is counterfeit that it didn’t work. It is still not a bad price, but not really my style. You should never shop for spite.

I would not have minded more time at the ruins, but I do not feel the same compulsion to return to Progreso that I do for Playa del Carmen. For now, I still have my memories. (I still have my tan lines too, but that can't last.)

One final fun tidbit: after encountering many iguanas in both spots, running across paths and darting up trees, I now thing of them as Mexican squirrels. In that heat, they are lucky to not have the fur.

Hasta la vista!

Cruise Ship Travel Tips

Before I begin, let me say that there are more variables on this topic than there would be with DC Travel Tips. Being on a different cruise line, a different ship, or going to different destinations can make a big difference. My cruise was on the Carnival Elation, leaving from Galveston with stops in Cozumel and Progreso. Your mileage may vary. Also, I would like to mention that it was fabulous, and not just because I love boats.

1. Collect small bills in advance

There are two reasons for this. One is for tipping. In our case, the ship allotted fifty dollars for gratuities, with a breakdown of what went to whom, and if you purchased a fountain card there was a gratuity added on for the bartenders. However, the amounts are fairly low, and you may want to augment that. I certainly did, as we received excellent service. However, you do not accumulate change on the ship because you are signing for everything, and you may be able to get change at the information desk, but otherwise your choice is to either not tip or tip more than intended. Just plan ahead.

In addition, at least in Mexico it is common to bargain, and a lot of the items you are bargaining for are pretty cheap. So, imagine bargaining someone down to two dollars and then needing change for a twenty, which they may not have. It’s just silly. Anyway, having ones and fives gives you some more flexibility that is nice to have.

As a side note, on shore excursions I recommend cash over charge anyway, as you don’t have to worry about fluctuating exchange rates, and you may get a better deal by having cash in hand.

2. Eat in the dining room as often as possible

We had dinner there every night, but we did not realize what we were missing in terms of lunches and dinners there until very late in the cruise. Room service is convenient, and there is always food being served somewhere, but the best quality food is definitely in the dining rooms. Plus, for breakfast and lunch it is open seating, so you get to meet additional people. And don’t leave the dining room early, because they sing and dance for you.

3. Attend the informational talks

We attended one at the beginning of the cruise and a disembarkation talk, but there were also shopping talks and shore excursion information, all of which can prove very helpful. Another nice part of that is that most of them were given by our cruise director, Jorge, who was great. Honestly, he was funnier than the ship’s comedian.

4. Entertainment may be cheesy

But don’t let that stop you! The first night there was a show where you got to watch the singers, the dancers, and the comedian. The singers and dancers tend to work together, and while they were performing my first thought was, so this is what happens to people who leave high school with nothing but cheerleading skills. Except, they were pretty much all Australian, English, and Canadian, so I don’t know if they would even have been cheerleaders.

Anyway, that shouldn’t hold you back. I admit that we did not go to the two Vegas style shows (which would be just the singers and dancers), but we did go to Pure Country (which was them plus a pretty good fiddler) and the guest talent show (which had Jorge doing a lot of filler because they only had five acts).

Bear in mind, the shows are not your only entertainment. There were musical acts on the Lido Deck in afternoons, by the Drama Bar in the evenings, and there was karaoke every night.

5. Decide whether or not you want a Fountain Card early

Meals are included in the cruise price, along with water, juice, milk, and hot beverages. Alcohol is extra, of course, but so are soft drinks. With the Fountain Card you can pay a flat fee and take it to any bar at any time and get soda. It was about $27.00 for five days, with sodas otherwise costing $2.00 each. Whether you should get it or not depends on how much of a pop drinker you are, but if you are going to want it, decide early so you can get full value for it.

6. You’re probably better off with the early dinner seating

There were two dining rooms, each one with two seatings. We took the 8:00 PM seating because we thought on the days we had shore excursions we could come back a little later, and shower if needed, and still make dinner. What we did not realize is that you pretty much always needed to be back on the ship by 4 or 4:30, so making the 6:00 seating is not much of a stretch. Being done earlier would have been better for some things, including the midnight buffets. We did not even go to the fancy Grand Royale midnight buffet because we had just eaten prime rib three hours earlier. Karaoke starts at 8:30. Yes, you can arrive late, but without having a chance to fully gauge the room I was not going to get up there, so yeah, eat at 6.

7. Sign up for shore excursions and spa packages early

They go fast! That being said, I would not sign up for either before getting on the ship. We had several itinerary changes before boarding, and one that I wanted to do did not appear to be available on the web site, but we were able to sign up for it on the ship. By the way, massages are heavenly!

8. Don’t expect cell phone reception

Maybe you wouldn’t anyway. I was not counting on reception, but my signal went off about an hour outside of port and did not come back on until we got back to Galveston. Even on shore I had no reception.

9. Don’t be an idiot

The low point of our cruise was probably on the tender back from Playa Del Carmen. As the boat was almost full, with the only empty seating being right in front of us, a woman helped her young adult daughter stagger on board. My first thought was that I hoped they would not sit in front of us, but of course they did. My next thought was that I hoped she would not throw up.

It didn’t happen right away, but when it started it went on forever. If you don’t know how well you can hold your tequila, assume the answer is not very. It’s a powerful drink, and apparently even more so on a hot day. It wasn’t just that she was inconsiderate to everyone on the boat; she was incredibly inconsiderate to her mother. Her mother was the one who had to wrangle the breasts back into the shirt, guide the drunk, find misplaced shoes and scrunchies, and then deal with the vomiting, and she was the only one of the pair who was conscious of the embarrassing nature of the incident at the time.

10. Don’t be a jerk

I was amazed at the capacity of some people to complain and to be rude to service people. There weren’t even that many occurrences, but come on, you are on a cruise! Don’t you feel lucky? I know, you paid for it, but there was a time when it would have been a lot more expensive, or poor people would be put in steerage. Now as far as I can tell the only thing paying more money gets you is a bigger cabin. You get the same food and the same service and the same pampering. Don’t start yelling at someone who asks who you are doing that the lines are poorly managed because one is moving faster than the other.

Granted, with my customer service background, I am extra sensitive to abuse of the working class (that also forms a big part of my views on tipping), but ultimately, there is a limit to how responsible anyone else can be for your good time. Attitude, baby.

Next stop, Mexico!

Houston, we have a spork!

I am finally back from vacation, and a wonderful vacation it was. I wish the effects could have been longer lasting. I got back late Thursday night, tired but tanned and relaxed. Sunday at church people were telling me that I was glowing and radiant, and I was confident that it was true because I felt radiant. Now, after three days back at work, my back hurts and I’m a different kind of tired and I hate people. So, I’m quickly getting back to my normal state of haggard old wreck, and doing it just in time for Valentine’s Day!

Actually, as the only single person on the team, I will be working late that night so my compatriots can woo their wives. I think I’m going to be needing some Scharffen Berger. I’m normally just fine with Hershey’s, but these are desperate times.

Anyway, we should review the vacation while I can still remember it. Our original plan had been to leave from New Orleans, with stops in Cozumel and Costa Maya. Then Hurricane Katrina came. Not only was the port flooded, but the ship was dedicated to housing for displaced persons. It was disappointing, but since we were not the ones who lost our homes and livelihoods, it would have been in poor taste to complain.

We rescheduled for a similar cruise departing out of Galveston. A few days after we did this Hurricane Rita popped up. Fortunately, the damage was minimal. If we had needed to reschedule again, I would have felt like any port we chose was being doomed to a hurricane, and it would have been hard to make a choice.

Galveston does not have a major airport, so you need to fly into Houston. Flights between Houston and Portland have some odd scheduling going on, and it just seemed too risky to try and leave on the same day we would be boarding the ship. Fine, we would leave a little early and spend some time in Houston. We had planned to spend some time in New Orleans. We instinctively felt that Houston would not be as interesting, but we had no idea how right we were.

Houston is in Texas, but is not of Texas. We began to suspect it while we were there, but we were also able to talk to people from all over Texas while on the ship, and they confirmed it. Houston is the opposite of the rest of the state. Two thirds of the city population did not originate in Texas. So it began to make sense to us why we had not heard any drawls or seen any cowboy gear outside of the souvenir shops.

I’m not sure that this was entirely a bad thing. Texas is not my favorite state. Still, if you’re there, you kind of want to get the experience. As far as I can tell, the Houston experience is driving your BMW to a business meeting, then buying something really expensive at the mall. We would ask people what we should see, and people kept saying the mall.

Don’t get me wrong; the Galleria is pretty impressive. We just kept walking and walking and we still did not see all of it. It was not as fun as a mall could be though, because so many of the shops were a bit upscale for us. Yes, there was Pac-Sun and Claire’s and Hot Topic, but there was also Fendi, Armani, Vuitton, Dolce & Gabbana, Burberry, Kate Spade, and lots of other places that I am not cool enough to appreciate. That was where we spent our first day. We bought some souvenirs, and got pedicures. It was my first time. It was okay, but my feet were kind of tender afterwards, and I think I may be meant to be calloused.

The Galleria has an ice rink, somewhat like Lloyd Center, and we thought there should be a cinema or two, but we could not find any proof. One person we asked suggested that putting in a theater might make things too urban. We finally got on the PC in the motel lobby, and used the nearby businesses feature on Yahoo! Maps to find a theater and show times. That was how we spent day number two.

There are some things that can vary a lot by region, and movie theaters are on my list of things to try. In DC Tara and I had seen Beauty Shop, so I really thought we should see another Queen Latifah movie. We got tickets for Last Holiday and The New World.

I really enjoyed Last Holiday. It was cute and touching and there were some really funny parts, and the casting was generally good.

The New World had a wonderful cast, and there was indeed some beautiful cinematography, but it was soooo slooooow. I know, Terrence Malick is an artist, but that’s no excuse. No one makes more beautifully shot pictures than Zhang Yimou, but it is not at the expense of telling a compelling story. With all the voiceovers and long (pretty) shots of nothing happening, The New World was rather like a long Obsession commercial. At least it was in (muted) color.

We had also wanted to get a feel for local food. I had thought eating Mexican one day and barbecue another would make sense, but we had a hard time finding anything. On the way back from the theater, we thought we could at least find the barbecue place. The first one we passed was closed, and the second one was kind of a dive. That can be okay, but the smell of smoke was overpowering (which was weird because I noticed that at the same time I noticed the No Smoking sign). Long story short, we ate Chinese food our last night in Texas.

We did have fun that night anyway. Our night clerk at the motel was the one person who had made a recommendation for something to see in Houston; he told us to go to church. I thought he was just seeing the heathen inside us, but actually Lakewood Church is known for being very large. Anyway, we had visited with him a few times, and he asked if we wanted to meet someone. Was this a setup? No, his girlfriend had come by, so we started chatting with her and stayed in the lobby for about three hours, chatting up Virgie while Patrick kept an eye on the ball game. So, shout out to Patrick and Virgie at the Fairfield Inn.

Lakewood being large, and the Galleria being large, does fit in with at least one aspect of Texas, and we passed several other large things. I saw a huge cemetery, an enormous liquor store (Fiesta liquor, which had several smaller locations as well). On the way to Galveston we passed two Wal-Marts (big savings) and the Halliburton campus (big crooks). We did not see any armadillos. I was told they are all over the place, but it sounds like they are similar to raccoons out here, and we usually only see them when they did not make it across the street, so perhaps that was for the best.

I will treat the cruise later, but I will mention that we had to wait a long time in the George Bush airport, and PDX is way better in terms of options for passing the time and for security. No one asked us about our bags or even really looked at our Ids, but there was a recording they kept playing that joking about security could get you arrested, so I just kept my head down. I could throw in a Bush joke or two here, but it’s too easy. It is HW, not W; we saw the statue.

I will go over the cruise later, but for a parting thought, the fact that no one could really provide a key destination in Houston made us think about Oregon, and Portland specifically. What is must-see here? We thought of things like Mount Hood and Multnomah Falls, and they have their points. In fact, one of the great things about Oregon is that you are only a short drive away from any type of environment: mountain, desert, river, or beach. Still, that takes quite a bit of driving to discover, and gets a little complex. You could make some votes for Saturday Market, but I think the real heart of Portland is Powells Books. Labor disputes aside, Portland is a city that reads. One of the memorable moments for David McCullough when visiting here was being recognized by his waiter. Was the waiter a student? No just a waiter, but a waiter who read big fat history books and could recognize their author. I have nothing against Barnes and Noble, but Powells is locally owned and operated, and very much a part of the town. Even the Mormon Tabernacle Choir went there when they came to town (yes, they had a long bus ride coming up, but it would have been a good idea anyway). So Powells has my pick, but your ideas are welcome.

Spork Cinema: The Early Years

I am truly off schedule this week, but it is partially intentional. Since last week's entry went up a day late, and since I will not be posting this week while away on vacation, posting this entry later seemed to balance things out a bit.

Part of my problem is that I wanted to make this entry about the building of my new PC, but I need to get some good photos for that to be fully appreciated. Mostly, though, I am really busy and tired, and I'd like to address that for a moment, because it has been weighing on my mind.

I just had a birthday, and normally when that comes around, I like to plan a few well-chosen activities and really celebrate to the hilt. I won't say that I draw it out into a week of festivities, but there should at least be three or four days with things happening. I haven't really had a satisfying birthday since I started my current position, despite wonderful friends and family doing their best.

The first year I started in January, and I was busy interviewing, hiring, training, and doing everything to make sure that we could successfully make our launch date, despite the fact that the office was also moving. Fine, there was no way I was going to have spare time there, or have that time period not be stressful. I can accept that.

The second year, we were completely backordered on some very popular items, their slip in manufacturing schedule having been exacerbated by an earthquake in Taiwan. We got so many phone calls there was no time to answer email. In fact, we did not get email completely caught up until February. Again, that was clearly an anomaly. That was the year that the American Express flyer came advertising travel to Mexico. My exhausted, dispirited self longed for those sunny beaches, a dream I am finally on the verge of realizing.

Anyway, the next three years have all just been really busy, but without any identifiable crisis. Yes, I am going on vacation in two days, and I took some time off last year (without going anywhere), but there is so much work to do before going, and so much potential backlog to be accumulated while gone, that it puts a bit of a damper on the joy. And I can't tell myself that this year is an anomaly anymore; this is just the way January is going to be.

So I'm thinking of moving my birthday. I might go for May 17th. May would be the first month with no sibling birthdays, and I could keep the day the same. I wouldn't do it this year, as I have already celebrated, and this vacation is part of it, but yeah, maybe next year.

Maybe I just need to throw a party again. The last one I threw was the Great Irish Potato Feast, and couples who were together then have broken up, met and married other people, and had children. It's been awhile, is all I'm saying.

Anyway, enough on that. One goal for this blog is to document my movie making aspirations, from now with an incomplete script to finished product, bringing you irregular updates. I thought it could be helpful to have some background before we start.

I doubt many of you know this, but I made two animated shorts in elementary school. No, I wasn't that much of a prodigy, or that ambitious. It was mostly luck.

The first one happened in fourth grade, as a project we did in the Talented and Gifted Program. That was my first year in it, and maybe the first year the district even had such a thing. In fifth and sixth grade they combined several schools and it was much more organized, but the first year they just took a handful of us over to the junior high a few hours a week, and we tried different things.

When starting the film unit we watched some Vinton Studios films, and most of us ended up using clay figures as our subjects. Claymation* is a trademarked term, so that's not what we were doing. I made a little man, some trees, a bear, and a picnic basket. Basically, the bear came, stole the food, killed the man, and squished him up. I had never seen a Mr. Bill segment, but I guess it was something like that. I think Yogi may have been more of an influence, if he was more competent and sadistic.

My friend Jennie was probably the most original in the bunch. She animated a fireworks display, starting with construction paper rockets going up, then marker on transparency film for the fireworks themselves. If I recall, she used a Sousa march for soundtrack that really worked well (I had a hard time finding appropriate music for mine). There was an issue with the pen not showing up well on the dark blue background representing the sky, but it was still pretty innovative, and probably an influence on my second feature.

The second one came because I was in Ms. Steele's class for sixth grade, and that was something she did every year. I was basically solo on "The Picnic", but in this class we worked in groups, so "The Garden Tragedy" was more of a collaborative effort.

I think we had five groups, but I only remember two others. They showed us short films before we started again, including one called "Toolbox Ballet" that had stop-motion animation of tool dancing around. One group did a highly derivative "Schoolbox Ballet".

Another group, whom I suppose you could refer to as the popular girls, had a bunch of Barbie* dolls going to a concert. I seem to recall it as being pretty dumb, but I could be wrong. It was a long time ago.

Our effort was to tell the tale of some hard luck vegetables-- tomatoes, corn, you know the type-- who had to suffer the predations of crows, farm neglect, and finally the construction of a road where the exhaust killed those who were left. We used construction paper figures and sets. The best sequence was probably when the crow swooped in and stole the corn, but the exhaust was pretty well executed. The themes were helplessness against fate, and abandonment by society. I think it was too colorful to be described as Bergmanesque though, and no one played chess.

So, you might be thinking now, based on her oeuvre, this spork is one pretty twisted individual. Well, maybe, but not because of that. The garden issue may have come from the increasing truck traffic past a blueberry field that is close to my heart, but I can't vouch for it.

No, I think somehow the format of short fiction encourages twisted plots. It is more commonly known that my favorite authors are Jane Austen and L.M. Montgomery. Their novels are generally pretty positive, and the main characters end up happily, but they each have a few short stories that would surprise you. Maybe you just don't get as emotionally invested in the short form, so it's okay for bad things to happen.

Anyway, I think there's a limit to how much you can analyze the artist by the art. According to most sources he had a pretty tranquil domestic life, but his books are full of people whose fatal flaws lead them to die miserable and lone, no matter how hard they tried to make things right. The counterarguments to that would be Woody Allen (whose films seem to be very biographical) and Quentin Tarantino (who probably really is a scary freak as opposed to just seeming like one). But the opposites may just go to prove the rule. Therefore, those who know me expect me to be working on a comedy, but the project is actually a downbeat but ultimately life affirming film about vampires.

But there is a funny scene in it!

In sporkness and health

Sorry this is late. I have about three major reports to write for work, and in my personal life we keep throwing bridal showers.

First of all, allow me to answer a question from last week. You can find Brevity at www.comics.com. I was able to find a copy I had saved of the hippo picture, which I am including here:



Now, on to the promised expose! Warning, there are parts that some people may find gross.

In general I am a pretty tough cookie, but I do have a weakness. If you have seen Disney’s version of The Sword in the Stone, you may remember Merlin defeating Mad Madame Mim by becoming a microbe and getting her sick. My story might begin with a tiny speck of dirty metal.

We don’t know that this is the actual cause, but it seems like a good guess because every time the infection flares up it centers around the scar. Basically, I was taking down a dilapidated above-ground pool and deck. You know, just because something looks like it could fall down at any moment does not mean that it actually will when you want it to. And don’t get too impressed with me. Taking things down is a lot easier than putting them up. I am good grunt labor, but if it requires any know-how or finesse, I’m not your girl. Maybe that’s why I got injured.

Basically, when I was working one of the girders out I jerked too hard and it ricocheted back, cutting my leg slightly. I did not see any rust, but I got a tetanus booster anyway and figured I was good until a few years later I suddenly became ill and ended up in the hospital for four days.

The cause was a condition called cellulitis. I know, it sounds like cellulite, but it is not directly related to cottage cheese thighs. Instead, it is an infection of the skin cells, where the flare up. So while I felt like I had the flu, what differentiated from that is that from ankle to knee my right leg was swollen, burning to the touch, and bright red. Also, it hurt really badly.

It often starts with a spider bite, cut, or burn that lets the infection in. It can be treated fairly easily with antibiotics geared towards skin conditions. There are two problems. One is that, at least in my case, the leg was left scarred, so I have this blotchy red patch on my leg. This is one reason I don’t go barelegged. The others are that I don’t think my legs are very shapely and I don’t shave very much (actually, the not shaving is as much a result of the covered legs as a cause).

The second problem is that it tends to never really go away, and just lie dormant until your immune system dips low enough for it to take over again. This is what happened on the last day of my vacation.

I woke up fairly early and felt fine. I packed up everything except for what I would need that day and the next morning, showered and dressed, and (feeling really ahead of the game), sat down to read for a bit. I was feeling cold, though, despite putting on my coat and wrapping up in a blanket. My teeth started chattering.

It’s not just that it wasn’t a cold day. It is also that I do not get cold very easily. It was a joke between us because Tara was always getting cold and I would give her my coat, which she would put on over her own coat, and I would be fine. It didn’t seem like a good sign.

I started to get a little better, but then was overtaken with extreme drowsiness. Unfortunately, this hit right as we got to church. I could focus for a moment here and there to do what I needed to do, but I kept dropping off. It was embarrassing but also completely out of my power. You can kind of get away with sleeping through sacrament meeting, but not in Sunday School, so I was going to see if I could find a cry room with a couch or something, until our hero, Brian appeared, and offered us a ride back to his place.

Finally I could sleep, which was really the only thing I was capable of right then. I did manage to wake up and stay coherent through dinner, but it was so much effort and everything tasted really bland. I probably could have slept more. My main concern was holding it together until we got home, so I could go to my doctor and be at home. On Sundays the only option is an emergency room, and I just knew I would end up checked in and missing my flight, with out of network hospital charges followed by the cost of a new plane ticket. Nope, I just wasn’t going there.

Still, it can be hard navigating airports in a feverish haze. The worst moment was when my boarding pass disappeared. They issued a new one, but later on when I was unpacking I found both together. I have no idea how that happened.

I don’t think we can ever consider the death of a human being, especially a good one, fortunate, but it did sort of work out well that while I was gone a family friend died, and my family had all arranged time off for the funeral Monday, the day I came home. This left Little Sister M available to take me to the doctor.

I was able to go over my issues pretty well with her, but somehow the minute I got back into the car, all capability deserted me again. Perhaps it was the lack of food or sleep or that I had just used up everything I had. She asked what the doctor said, and the answer was that I had some prescriptions I needed to fill and then come back tomorrow to see that the injection already administered was working. I knew that, but all I could say was "Scrip...scrip...scrip." It just didn't sound right, and so I couldn't finish. Well of course it didn't sound right; I was leaving off the first syllable, but I couldn't figure out how to fix it. She just shook her head and started driving.

At home I pretty much just threw myself face down on the bed and kept sleeping for three-hour intervals. I would then wake up, look at the clock (that's how I know they were three-hour intervals), and go back to sleep. At one point I handed off my prescriptions so they could be filled.

The next day I was supposed to return to work, but was not really up to it, so I called in. I thought I was sounding lucid again, but when I returned to work on Thursday, well, my manager was surprised to find out that I had ever been less lucid than when I spoke to him on Tuesday.

The recovery went okay. Monday and Tuesday I slept a lot, Wednesday I slept and watched television, and Thursday, even though my world was still moving in slow motion, almost like being underwater (when everyone else is above water), I got a lot of work done.

It's a bad thing, actually. As I worked away in diminished capacity but still outperforming many other, strange feelings of grandeur and euphoria came and went. This would have been a bad time for someone to approach me with plans for taking over the world, because I probably would have said yes and that would have led to awkwardness when I came to my senses.

After that I was fairly normal. There were a few days of only doing work and sleep, because there was no energy left after the work, but eventually your strength comes back until the next round.

That occurred about a month ago. This time I started feeling very cold and achy on the way to church, and it just kept getting worse. Again, it was a Sunday night, and I had the early shift the next day so all I wanted to do was sleep and then go to the doctor tomorrow, but my family kept bugging me. They laugh about it now, but Mama Spork was really panicked when she was saying we should go to the doctor and I told her I was focusing on my education. I think I was shooting for recuperation, but I just couldn't get it out.

I knew what the message I wanted to deliver was: "Please shut up and leave me alone so I can sleep!" Maybe I should develop a gesture. The one that comes to mind is already taken, and it's so out of character for me that it would only make matters worse. I wonder if I would be able to write or type, but when staying awake is torture, it's hard to feel motivated to experiment. I'm not going to go over to the computer, and if I tried asking for pen and paper I would probably just scare them worse by asking for a tractor or sock or something.

That's the whole problem really. I am aware and comprehending of what is going on, I just can't prove it. It's not delirium, it's febrile aphasia. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Despite this, I was able to arise early, get to work, and be completely functional there, leaving at noon to go to the doctor. Once there, I was discovered to have a fever of 104. Back to the old regime, but with a much faster recovery time. Those direct injections really work.

The most interesting thing last time around is that I started thinking about how the onsets have been so different, with many milder outbreaks consisting of me just feeling tired and my leg going somewhat red. I believe the first day is just some other disease starting, and then the cellulitis acting up. So maybe the mild outbreaks were starting with colds, and the worse ones with flu. If that is the case, I should basically try to never get sick. You would think I'd be more consistent about taking my vitamins, but I just forget. And I can't resist helping out sick people when they ask. At least I wash my hands a lot.

My real concern is that, on that first day, I appear so sick that medical staff might overreact. The fever would probably be enough to keep them from automatically sending me to the psych ward, but you never know.

So here's the nutshell: If we are together and I start shivering (out of proportion to the current temperature) and saying strange things (that don't appear to be jokes)...

Taking my temperature: Good
Taking my blood sugar (to rule out hypoglycemia): Good

Asking me questions: Bad
Taking me to emergency room: Bad

If you can take me to my doctor, okay. Otherwise, please let me sleep.