A movie directed by Joss Whedon. Yes, it is Shakespeare. Filmed in black and white, with modern dress and modern setting and it is truly delightful. I highly recommend watching this film, even if you don't like the Bard. Yes, sometimes it's a little tough trying to follow the conversations, and this particular play is all about the conversations. But it is totally worth sticking it out. Basically a love story, or a couple of them, with some villains and some double-edged word play and a couple of goofy cops and some twists and turns and dance parties and drinking and a good ending.
If you get the disc, check out the special features. The 20 minute story about making the movie is wonderful but the "Bus Ado About Nothing" is hysterically funny.
OK, it's some ado about a lot of things, not nothing and I hope you watch it. Heck, it was filmed in 12 days, almost like a high-quality home movie..... what's not to like?
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Riding the rails in my mind
A couple of months ago I read a book by Tim Parks called "Italian Ways" about the train system in Italy, some history, a lot of his experiences on the trains, the idiosyncratic nature of the Italian rail system and yet how efficient it is. Having taken many trains in Italy, the book reinforced, in my mind, the enjoyment of train travel. You pay some money, sit back and watch the world go by. You can read, talk, daydream, nap, eat, anything you want. At the end of the journey, you are in a new town and more adventure awaits.
We don't have a real train system in the US, just Amtrak. If you have ever ridden Amtrak you are familiar with two facts: sometime it's fun and often it's not. The trains do not necessarily run on time (often 20 + hours late) and that alone is reason to question one's sanity when embarking on a long trip. But still, it's such a different way to travel than driving or flying.
In my restless quest for the next phase of my life, I sort of want to take a long train trip, from SF to maybe Chicago. Or maybe even farther, like to New York, Penn Station. If the trains ran on time it would take about three days, close to 75 hours. It would cost anywhere from about $300 to $900, depending on what class of seat I chose. It is expensive (I could fly to NYC for a lot less) but cheaper than driving and staying in hotels. It's a bit faster than driving as well, and less tiring.
And yes, it's just a pipe-dream right now. Or a rail dream, I suppose, since no pipes are actually involved. But one must have something to dream about other than winning the damn lottery, so the rail dream is it for this week.
All this is just idle chatter but somewhere out there is the small seed of what I am to do next. I swear, if I am still doing this job in a year and a half, it will be time to sign up for that DIY lobotomy class offered here at the local junior college, continuing education program.
.
We don't have a real train system in the US, just Amtrak. If you have ever ridden Amtrak you are familiar with two facts: sometime it's fun and often it's not. The trains do not necessarily run on time (often 20 + hours late) and that alone is reason to question one's sanity when embarking on a long trip. But still, it's such a different way to travel than driving or flying.
In my restless quest for the next phase of my life, I sort of want to take a long train trip, from SF to maybe Chicago. Or maybe even farther, like to New York, Penn Station. If the trains ran on time it would take about three days, close to 75 hours. It would cost anywhere from about $300 to $900, depending on what class of seat I chose. It is expensive (I could fly to NYC for a lot less) but cheaper than driving and staying in hotels. It's a bit faster than driving as well, and less tiring.
And yes, it's just a pipe-dream right now. Or a rail dream, I suppose, since no pipes are actually involved. But one must have something to dream about other than winning the damn lottery, so the rail dream is it for this week.
All this is just idle chatter but somewhere out there is the small seed of what I am to do next. I swear, if I am still doing this job in a year and a half, it will be time to sign up for that DIY lobotomy class offered here at the local junior college, continuing education program.
.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Talking kids
I had a call from my son last night, he had just read the blog about the norovirus that had knocked me out for a couple of days and was concerned that I wasn't still sick and pooping. (Crass.) As most of my conversations with Gabe are, this one was good and funny and there was some depth there. He had been in Eugene (Oregon, just in case you lived in a cave) and had watched the two Major Football Games this past weekend. One of those games involved the hometown team (aka 49ers) and one involved the Denver Broncos.
Gabe and his Dad are intense football fans. When I was married to John (The Dad) I swear the house could have burned down to the ground and his kids could have been abducted by aliens, all in the first quarter, and he would not have noticed. John almost levitated when watching football, he was that serious. John's Dad was the first person I ever knew who could watch three TV's at one time and listen to the radio simultaneously and keep it all straight and yell at the appropriate screen or announcer with the appropriate diatribe and never get them mixed up. John inherited that talent. (Or genetic weakness, if you will.) Gabe could also be that person, but now, three TVs are not necessary. He and his Dad probably stream everything at all times. And I know for a fact that they still scream at the TV.
All of this is just cover for the conversation I had with my son. You know how most men are linear in their thinking? One thing at a time, then another, then another. Those men can think fast but they don't think the same way women do, in a circular fashion. It is rare to find a man who does.
Gabe does. He can jump around in a conversation from linear to global to circular to google-like and it is easy to follow. We talked about the demarcation of time ("end of football season and the beginning of the new season is a new year!") and how that translates into our regular life. We talked about convenient forgetting, how humans have that ability to just erase a bad memory and live with that empty space or, better, fill it in with a horse looking over the stable door. (Or something equally as charming.) We talked about his Dad and about Jenn and about Annie and her family and traveling and so many things.
It is no secret that I love my kids. I love every aspect of them and I love when these sorts of conversations take place. Jenn and I talk about the every day, the mundane, the crappy job or the good job, but that's because we see each other every day. Gabe and I talk in more esoteric ways, but that's because we don't have a lot of time for the mundane. He is busy, I am busy, let's just TALK. And we do.
This is just about the above. I have read that many people always see their kids as kids. They always see them as needing the parents as protectors. I remember my kids as kids, I remember being their protector in so many ways. But now I see them as they are: amazing adults. They don't need protecting (but I would protect them at any second) and they are so smart and worldly and wise. So much wiser than I will ever be. And they are kind and generous. I don't see them as kids now. I see them as they are, pretty much grown-ups and doing well. It astounds me. Where was I when this happened? That they are this old and that I am this old...... well, I guess it's a good thing.
We should all be circled by the love we give and the love we take. Give more. Take less. It all comes back.
.
Gabe and his Dad are intense football fans. When I was married to John (The Dad) I swear the house could have burned down to the ground and his kids could have been abducted by aliens, all in the first quarter, and he would not have noticed. John almost levitated when watching football, he was that serious. John's Dad was the first person I ever knew who could watch three TV's at one time and listen to the radio simultaneously and keep it all straight and yell at the appropriate screen or announcer with the appropriate diatribe and never get them mixed up. John inherited that talent. (Or genetic weakness, if you will.) Gabe could also be that person, but now, three TVs are not necessary. He and his Dad probably stream everything at all times. And I know for a fact that they still scream at the TV.
All of this is just cover for the conversation I had with my son. You know how most men are linear in their thinking? One thing at a time, then another, then another. Those men can think fast but they don't think the same way women do, in a circular fashion. It is rare to find a man who does.
Gabe does. He can jump around in a conversation from linear to global to circular to google-like and it is easy to follow. We talked about the demarcation of time ("end of football season and the beginning of the new season is a new year!") and how that translates into our regular life. We talked about convenient forgetting, how humans have that ability to just erase a bad memory and live with that empty space or, better, fill it in with a horse looking over the stable door. (Or something equally as charming.) We talked about his Dad and about Jenn and about Annie and her family and traveling and so many things.
It is no secret that I love my kids. I love every aspect of them and I love when these sorts of conversations take place. Jenn and I talk about the every day, the mundane, the crappy job or the good job, but that's because we see each other every day. Gabe and I talk in more esoteric ways, but that's because we don't have a lot of time for the mundane. He is busy, I am busy, let's just TALK. And we do.
This is just about the above. I have read that many people always see their kids as kids. They always see them as needing the parents as protectors. I remember my kids as kids, I remember being their protector in so many ways. But now I see them as they are: amazing adults. They don't need protecting (but I would protect them at any second) and they are so smart and worldly and wise. So much wiser than I will ever be. And they are kind and generous. I don't see them as kids now. I see them as they are, pretty much grown-ups and doing well. It astounds me. Where was I when this happened? That they are this old and that I am this old...... well, I guess it's a good thing.
We should all be circled by the love we give and the love we take. Give more. Take less. It all comes back.
.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
You do NOT want this
The norovirus has run rampant in the UK and Canada and has now made its nasty arrival in Northern California. Trust me, you do not want to get this virus. Depending on the severity, which varies with each person, this can knock you down for two or three days or it can linger for another two or three, giving you almost a week of feeling like crap.
This is a virus you want to take out into a field and beat with a baseball bat or hit with a laser and blast it into nothingness. With this virus, you start out thinking you have food poisoning, which is bad enough: the stomach bloat, the rock hard feeling in your stomach, the vomiting, the diarrhea, the ache in your stomach and your gut. And that's just the beginning. If you are unlucky, that all morphs into aches all over your entire body, from the bottom of your toes to the top of your head. It goes on for at least 36 hours and often much longer.
The real danger is getting dehydrated because of all the GI action that forces everything, even water, out of your body in about 15 minutes. The mere thought of food makes you almost gag. All you want is water and you aren't sure you should even risk that. Basically, you lay in bed and moan.
Over a six day span, I ate the following: three pieces of toast, two bananas, some broth and rice. I drank a lot of tea and hot apple juice. I am still, one week later, hesitant about putting anything into my body for fear it will swoosh out the other end in humiliating fashion.
People seem to think the norovirus is the flu. While the semantics might not seem important, flu always involves an upper respiratory infection, lots of sneezing and coughing, diseased particles being spewed out into the air. The norovirus has no vaccine, is not a flu virus and is incredibly contagious. It's all about the gastro intestinal part of your body. It isn't the flu, you can't get a shot to prevent it and once you get it, the odds are you will get it again. Joy.
Stay away from anyone who has it. My daughter, who hardly came near me for two days, was knocked off her feet by it three days after I contracted it. You do not want this virus, ever.
Just saying..... wash your hands a lot. Watch what you eat and who you hang out with. Live in a bubble if you must. But of course, you can walk into Safeway and get some sick person's virus molecule and BAM! it's done. You've got it.
Good luck.
This is a virus you want to take out into a field and beat with a baseball bat or hit with a laser and blast it into nothingness. With this virus, you start out thinking you have food poisoning, which is bad enough: the stomach bloat, the rock hard feeling in your stomach, the vomiting, the diarrhea, the ache in your stomach and your gut. And that's just the beginning. If you are unlucky, that all morphs into aches all over your entire body, from the bottom of your toes to the top of your head. It goes on for at least 36 hours and often much longer.
The real danger is getting dehydrated because of all the GI action that forces everything, even water, out of your body in about 15 minutes. The mere thought of food makes you almost gag. All you want is water and you aren't sure you should even risk that. Basically, you lay in bed and moan.
Over a six day span, I ate the following: three pieces of toast, two bananas, some broth and rice. I drank a lot of tea and hot apple juice. I am still, one week later, hesitant about putting anything into my body for fear it will swoosh out the other end in humiliating fashion.
People seem to think the norovirus is the flu. While the semantics might not seem important, flu always involves an upper respiratory infection, lots of sneezing and coughing, diseased particles being spewed out into the air. The norovirus has no vaccine, is not a flu virus and is incredibly contagious. It's all about the gastro intestinal part of your body. It isn't the flu, you can't get a shot to prevent it and once you get it, the odds are you will get it again. Joy.
Stay away from anyone who has it. My daughter, who hardly came near me for two days, was knocked off her feet by it three days after I contracted it. You do not want this virus, ever.
Just saying..... wash your hands a lot. Watch what you eat and who you hang out with. Live in a bubble if you must. But of course, you can walk into Safeway and get some sick person's virus molecule and BAM! it's done. You've got it.
Good luck.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
One photo. It's a beginning.
Below is a photo I took of the lake in Hanoi at sunrise. I will try and get more photos on the blog but with the computer I am using, it is a challenge. We will start with this one.
Book: Anything That Moves
In trying to keep up with current trends (because we all know how trendy I can be) I just finished "Anything That Moves: Renegade Chefs, Fearless Eaters and the Making of a New American Food Culture" by Dana Goodyear. It is, as the title indicates, about how obsessed we (the general 'we') have become with food, the more bizarre, the better. It isn't enough to love offal and nose-to-tail cuisine anymore. Now you are not considered cutting edge until you eat things like balut (duck embryo boiled alive in the shell and eaten whole, feathers and all) and green cow intestines (green because the cow ate a lot of grass.) Dining for some has become an adventure sport where they pay a lot of money to eat things they cannot even identify.
It's a good read, actually. There are interestingly weird chefs and food writers and those fearless eaters who have taken food culture into a totally different realm. She has chapters on horse meat, on marijuana-infused cuisine, insects, secret food cults and a lot more.
The book made me want to roast a chicken and fix some mashed potatoes. I do not want to eat duck embryos, thank you, but at the same time, I don't want you making fun of my free range chicken, like it was nothing more than unwholesome white bread. You (the general 'you') can eat whatever you want. I will eat kidneys and liver and sweetbreads but that green intestine? Nope. Frog fallopian tubes? I'll pass, thanks. Venison heart tartare on disks of deer antler? Maybe next time.
It's a good read, actually. There are interestingly weird chefs and food writers and those fearless eaters who have taken food culture into a totally different realm. She has chapters on horse meat, on marijuana-infused cuisine, insects, secret food cults and a lot more.
The book made me want to roast a chicken and fix some mashed potatoes. I do not want to eat duck embryos, thank you, but at the same time, I don't want you making fun of my free range chicken, like it was nothing more than unwholesome white bread. You (the general 'you') can eat whatever you want. I will eat kidneys and liver and sweetbreads but that green intestine? Nope. Frog fallopian tubes? I'll pass, thanks. Venison heart tartare on disks of deer antler? Maybe next time.
2014: So It Begins
OMG! I can't believe how fast this year is going! It's already five days old!
I was being ironic there. Or maybe just bitchy. Or some other word I can't quite conjure up right now.
Everyone always hopes for all the best things in January. It seems like a fresh start, a clean screen, like you tipped the Etch-o-Sketch upside down and shook it. It's all an illusion, of course. Why should January give us any more license to think things will be different than the middle of June? Just because it's a new year? Huh, a new year starts every day. Every day we should be attempting to be better, to be happier, healthier, more prosperous.
Cynical, yes. The new year brings that out in me. The thought that THIS year will be different is so .... transparently hopeful that it immediately makes it not different, simply more of the same.
But, as I have said before, hope is sometimes the foundation of all our actions. Without hope, without the vague and flimsy promise of something more, we would all be jumping off bridges.
Therefore, five days into 2014, I can state without equivocation, that so far, this year is better than the last. Along with everyone else, I hope it stays better for the next 12 months.
I was being ironic there. Or maybe just bitchy. Or some other word I can't quite conjure up right now.
Everyone always hopes for all the best things in January. It seems like a fresh start, a clean screen, like you tipped the Etch-o-Sketch upside down and shook it. It's all an illusion, of course. Why should January give us any more license to think things will be different than the middle of June? Just because it's a new year? Huh, a new year starts every day. Every day we should be attempting to be better, to be happier, healthier, more prosperous.
Cynical, yes. The new year brings that out in me. The thought that THIS year will be different is so .... transparently hopeful that it immediately makes it not different, simply more of the same.
But, as I have said before, hope is sometimes the foundation of all our actions. Without hope, without the vague and flimsy promise of something more, we would all be jumping off bridges.
Therefore, five days into 2014, I can state without equivocation, that so far, this year is better than the last. Along with everyone else, I hope it stays better for the next 12 months.
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