"First Man" is not the first depiction of astronauts and the Space Race but it might be the most honest. For me the whole of this movie was not as good as its parts. The moon landing was in 1969 and fifty years later our world is a different place. Computers now control space exploration, the communication, engineering, etc.
But in the late 1960's there was none of that. The space mission was fraught with sometimes deadly mistakes. So to see a small team of men who were ready to strap themselves into a very small capsule and take several days to land on the surface of the moon and rely on ground control to pretty much make it happen, well, that was a leap of faith in more ways than we ever knew.
Many of us remember the first landing on the moon. It was surreal because many of us grew up thinking that being on the moon would be the pinnacle of ..... everything. How could a person get there, what would that take and why even attempt it? What would be the point?
"First Man" skirts around some of those questions but since it is based in the late 1960's and since the space race was predicated on beating the Russians into the outer atmosphere, the mindset was different than we see it today. In the setting of that era, the movie shows how it must have felt then, not how we see it now.
Ryan Gosling is a decent Neil Armstrong. The taciturn characteristics he exhibits are a little too much for this movie, in my opinion. I wanted to shake him at times and ask "Anyone in there?" It's clear he is very intelligent but he has such a disconnect from everyone including his children that it became, for me, a physical flaw, one that I couldn't ignore. Like a scar on someone's face, I was focused too much on his unmoving face and his lack of emotion.
My favorite character was Armstrong's wife, Janet, played by Claire Foy. She seems to understand Neil's sadness (especially after the death of their daughter) and for the most part she can accept it and move past it. But her patience is tested several times and she gives an excellent performance, she is a pleasure to watch.
However, what I really enjoyed in "First Man" was the science behind the moon landing and the mental and physical accuity the astronauts had to exhibit. The actual moon landing sequence was brilliant. The silence of the moon, after the noise and clatter of the space capsule, was gripping in an odd way.
It's a really good movie. Not an A but more like a B+. Or a solid B, very good but not outstanding.
It's worth noting that the only other movie that one can compare it to is "The Right Stuff" and that movie had the amazing (in every way) Sam Shepard as Chuck Yeager and the always smiling Ed Harris as John Glenn and it had that air of hope and exploration that encompassed the early days of the space program. But for me, as much as I really liked "The Right Stuff" I think "First Man" is probably more realistic. Well, if we could get Neil Armstrong to relax his face once and give us a little, tiny smile. Or a frown. Or something other than sadness and ennui.
But check it out. It's good.
Tuesday, October 23, 2018
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Something's coming, don't know what it is.......
I wake up with song lyrics in my head. All the time.
Could it be, yes it could, something's coming, something good, if I can wait.....around the corner, or whistling down the river, come on, deliver......
The Mississippi's mighty, it starts in Minnesota at a place you can walk across with five steps down. And I guess that's how you started, like a pinprick to my heart, but at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown......
Screen door slams, Mary's dress waves, like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays Roy Orbison singing for the lonely......
Drive up the coastline, maybe Ventura, watch the waves make signs out on the water, I wanna watch the ocean bend, the edges of the sun then, I wanna get swallowed up in an ocean of love ....
I could go on and on. Every morning I get up, I walk the dog and lyrics from years and years ago swim in my head. I can't remember what's on my grocery list for that day but I can remember words from years past. It comforts me and annoys me at the same time.
.
Could it be, yes it could, something's coming, something good, if I can wait.....around the corner, or whistling down the river, come on, deliver......
The Mississippi's mighty, it starts in Minnesota at a place you can walk across with five steps down. And I guess that's how you started, like a pinprick to my heart, but at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown......
Screen door slams, Mary's dress waves, like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays Roy Orbison singing for the lonely......
Drive up the coastline, maybe Ventura, watch the waves make signs out on the water, I wanna watch the ocean bend, the edges of the sun then, I wanna get swallowed up in an ocean of love ....
I could go on and on. Every morning I get up, I walk the dog and lyrics from years and years ago swim in my head. I can't remember what's on my grocery list for that day but I can remember words from years past. It comforts me and annoys me at the same time.
.
Friday, October 5, 2018
"The Overstory" by Richard Powers
To say that this is one of the most (if not the most) powerful, intense, intelligent and moving books I have ever read would not be a stretch. It would be close to the truth, maybe the whole truth. "The Overstory" is remarkable in ways that are so difficult to articulate. But here I go, trying to rope you in.....
Most books I can read in a couple of days. (I came home last night at 7:30 and finished a novel by 10:45, just to give you a clue. It was a trashy, fun, light-hearted novel, but still.) Some novels, those I really like and those that grab me, usually take closer to a week. "The Overstory" kept me reading for three weeks and I read two other novels in the middle of it. It was that intense and that powerful. I hated to put it down and I hated for it to end but at times I had to walk away. It is consuming. At least it was for me.
The first third of the book introduces us to several very different characters, times, places and concepts. All are intriguing and sometimes beguiling and often frustrating but in their introduction they all seem round and approachable, if not in real life but in this novel. Most of these intros have trees as supporting roles or, in the case of a few, major roles along with the people. Trees are paramount here.
The second third of the book brings those characters together somewhat and other, deeper themes are revealed, botany and biology and ecology come into the picture. The scope widens and we see not just the characters and their alliances with trees but we see the world and its alliance against flora. But we are also shown some of the inner workings of botany and biology and the amazing connectivity that people and trees have. (Trust me, it might sound boring but it anything but that.)
Finally, the last third of this novel is so ripe with themes that I cannot even tell you much about them. Situations and characters fly out of control, good and bad stuff happens, people act according to their beliefs and those beliefs are bludgeoned. And so much faith is tested, not just that of the characters but of the reader as well.
It sounds esoteric, it is not. It is gorgeous. I can open the book and pick any paragraph and it resonates with beauty and brains: Out in the yard, all around the house, the things they've planted in years gone by are making significance, making meaning, as easily as they make sugar and wood from nothing, from air, and sun, and rain. But the humans hear nothing.
Or what a portrait this is: Dennis shows at noon, reliable as rain, bearing broccoli-almond lasagne, his latest midday masterpiece. She thinks, as she does several times a week, how lucky she has been, to spend these few years married to the one man on Earth who'd let her spend most of her life alone. Game, patient, good-natured Dennis. He protects her work and needs so little. In his handyman's heart, he already knows how few things man is really the measure of. And he's as generous and eager as weeds.
Seriously, as eager as weeds. Wow.
There are situations in this novel that are frightening and the reader fears for the characters' lives and hearts and minds. There are other times when things go right and the reader smiles and enjoys a moment of tenderness. But underneath all of it is the heartbeat of trees, their connected roots, what they have given to the earth and the atmosphere and how we mortals are ruining them and the atmosphere and how we cannot stop it. Richard Powers has written a masterpiece, one that has deep meaning and such soul. Please find a copy and read it. It is not for everyone, it is not light, fun, airy, quick. But its meaning is deep and incredibly meaningful to all of us. Read it and tell me what you think.
Steve, who loaned it to me, said something like "this would be a great book for book clubs." My answer was "this would take a book club a year to discuss." It is that massive in scope, and yet it is about small people doing small things wishing for massive results. And then there are the trees.....
Check it out.
Most books I can read in a couple of days. (I came home last night at 7:30 and finished a novel by 10:45, just to give you a clue. It was a trashy, fun, light-hearted novel, but still.) Some novels, those I really like and those that grab me, usually take closer to a week. "The Overstory" kept me reading for three weeks and I read two other novels in the middle of it. It was that intense and that powerful. I hated to put it down and I hated for it to end but at times I had to walk away. It is consuming. At least it was for me.
The first third of the book introduces us to several very different characters, times, places and concepts. All are intriguing and sometimes beguiling and often frustrating but in their introduction they all seem round and approachable, if not in real life but in this novel. Most of these intros have trees as supporting roles or, in the case of a few, major roles along with the people. Trees are paramount here.
The second third of the book brings those characters together somewhat and other, deeper themes are revealed, botany and biology and ecology come into the picture. The scope widens and we see not just the characters and their alliances with trees but we see the world and its alliance against flora. But we are also shown some of the inner workings of botany and biology and the amazing connectivity that people and trees have. (Trust me, it might sound boring but it anything but that.)
Finally, the last third of this novel is so ripe with themes that I cannot even tell you much about them. Situations and characters fly out of control, good and bad stuff happens, people act according to their beliefs and those beliefs are bludgeoned. And so much faith is tested, not just that of the characters but of the reader as well.
It sounds esoteric, it is not. It is gorgeous. I can open the book and pick any paragraph and it resonates with beauty and brains: Out in the yard, all around the house, the things they've planted in years gone by are making significance, making meaning, as easily as they make sugar and wood from nothing, from air, and sun, and rain. But the humans hear nothing.
Or what a portrait this is: Dennis shows at noon, reliable as rain, bearing broccoli-almond lasagne, his latest midday masterpiece. She thinks, as she does several times a week, how lucky she has been, to spend these few years married to the one man on Earth who'd let her spend most of her life alone. Game, patient, good-natured Dennis. He protects her work and needs so little. In his handyman's heart, he already knows how few things man is really the measure of. And he's as generous and eager as weeds.
Seriously, as eager as weeds. Wow.
There are situations in this novel that are frightening and the reader fears for the characters' lives and hearts and minds. There are other times when things go right and the reader smiles and enjoys a moment of tenderness. But underneath all of it is the heartbeat of trees, their connected roots, what they have given to the earth and the atmosphere and how we mortals are ruining them and the atmosphere and how we cannot stop it. Richard Powers has written a masterpiece, one that has deep meaning and such soul. Please find a copy and read it. It is not for everyone, it is not light, fun, airy, quick. But its meaning is deep and incredibly meaningful to all of us. Read it and tell me what you think.
Steve, who loaned it to me, said something like "this would be a great book for book clubs." My answer was "this would take a book club a year to discuss." It is that massive in scope, and yet it is about small people doing small things wishing for massive results. And then there are the trees.....
Check it out.
Friday, September 28, 2018
But then, there's risotto. Worth writing about.
Remember that juice I took from those roasting tomatoes a couple of days ago? Too much juice for sauce, but just the right amount of juice for one of the best risottos I have ever made or eaten. Two cups of homemade chicken broth, close to two cups of that tomato water, standard risotto recipe. After the stirring in of the butter and parm, I folded in a diced tomato and some purloined basil, a good amount of fresh black pepper and it was so, so good. That tomato taste, zingy and lush and the basil, oh, my goodness.
That was last night. Tonight I had leftovers, simply heated a bit of the chicken broth, tossed in some of the roasted tomatoes, added the leftover risotto. It was looser this time but no less tasty. All yum, all the way through.
That's the kind of meal I want, tasty and easy and made with what's on hand. Well, the arborio rice isn't local but who cares? I do not hold with "all local, all the time" because then one misses out on things like arborio rice, prosciutto, real parmesan cheese, other delicious cheeses and on and on. But if one can source decent ingredients, one can make a very good meal every time, no matter how simple it is. Good tomatoes on top of good toasted bread with good olive oil. Freshly picked lettuces tossed with a simple lemon vinaigrette along with some blue cheese and homemade croutons. Local chicken roasted in your oven or on the grill. Fresh halibut from off the coast. Oysters from Tomales Bay. It goes on and on. Goodness on top of goodness and on to our plates.
Fuck the bad news of the day, let's eat and drink well and wake up and take action against the evil Kavanaughs of the world.
Good night.
.
That was last night. Tonight I had leftovers, simply heated a bit of the chicken broth, tossed in some of the roasted tomatoes, added the leftover risotto. It was looser this time but no less tasty. All yum, all the way through.
That's the kind of meal I want, tasty and easy and made with what's on hand. Well, the arborio rice isn't local but who cares? I do not hold with "all local, all the time" because then one misses out on things like arborio rice, prosciutto, real parmesan cheese, other delicious cheeses and on and on. But if one can source decent ingredients, one can make a very good meal every time, no matter how simple it is. Good tomatoes on top of good toasted bread with good olive oil. Freshly picked lettuces tossed with a simple lemon vinaigrette along with some blue cheese and homemade croutons. Local chicken roasted in your oven or on the grill. Fresh halibut from off the coast. Oysters from Tomales Bay. It goes on and on. Goodness on top of goodness and on to our plates.
Fuck the bad news of the day, let's eat and drink well and wake up and take action against the evil Kavanaughs of the world.
Good night.
.
What's the point?
Don't be surprised if this blog is vacant for a while. With the headline news of this week being that a misogynistic sexual narcissist can be voted in for a lifetime position on the Supreme Court, well, there's nothing to say that matters. Except there is a wave of shit coming down for everyone who is not a white, rich, privileged man.
Fuck.
.
Fuck.
.
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
my obsession with tomatoes this summer
Yes, this summer I am obsessed with tomatoes. And not those fat, golden, juicy heirlooms (more on those later) but the sturdy standards of tomato land, the beefsteak tomatoes that the Mexican guy at the farmers market sells every week. They are firm and yet not hard, they smell delicious, they are acidic and meaty and not watery and not too sweet. Every Wednesday or Saturday morning I go to the market and buy about ten bucks worth (and he tosses in a couple extra) and I bring them back and put them on the kitchen counter and I look at them. Then I do one of three things:
1. I pick the most ripe tomato, I slice it thick, I lightly toast two slices of really good bread, spread them with mayonnaise, lay slices of tomato on one piece of bread, sprinkle them with a bit of salt and pepper, top it with the other lightly toasted slice of bread and smush it carefully with my hands so the juices run onto the bread but the tomatoes stay inside the toast. Then I eat it over the sink, in about four bites. That tomato is perfect, as is the bread, the perfect summer sandwich.
2. I put about eight tomatoes in a large bowl, pour very hot water over them, wait about 30 seconds and take the tomatoes out, one at a time, peel the skin off and set them aside. When they are all done I core them, cut them horizontally, squeeze the seeds out over a fine mesh strainer so I get all the juice without the seeds, cut them into chunks and toss them in a good sized saucepan and cook them slowly for about 45 minutes with salt and pepper. Mash them up with a potato masher. Let cool, put into pint containers. Freeze.
3. Core them, cut into quarters, put them on a cookie sheet lined with parchment and freeze them. Once frozen, put in zip locked bags, squishing out as much air as possible and keep in freezer. Perfect for sauce or in stews and soups.
The skins come right off when they are frozen.
And the newest thing, just done today because a guy at work gave me about ten pounds of mostly heirlooms from his garden that were mostly overripe:
4. Core them. Cut in half horizontally and fish out some of the seeds with your fingers. Put in a hotel pan (or a deep sided large pan or cookie sheet), sprinkle with olive oil, salt and pepper and put in a 325-350 oven for an hour, take out and gather up most of the juice and put back in oven, crank it to 400 for another 20 minutes. The tomatoes melt, the skins pop off like a prom dress and that juice you saved can be used in soup or risotto or sauce. So easy and so good. I suppose you could add some sliced garlic and onion but I like it pure and simple.
Heirlooms are great, esp if you are going to do a platter of them sliced with basil and good olive oil, but for sauce they are too seedy and too juicy for me. That's why the 4th option above works so well. The juice gets captured for some other purpose and the heat cooks them down a bit so they collapse and concentrate.
In the cold of winter, what better thing than fresh tomatoes. Sauce, soup, stew, casseroles, they are all so much better with frozen summer tomatoes. No duh.
.
1. I pick the most ripe tomato, I slice it thick, I lightly toast two slices of really good bread, spread them with mayonnaise, lay slices of tomato on one piece of bread, sprinkle them with a bit of salt and pepper, top it with the other lightly toasted slice of bread and smush it carefully with my hands so the juices run onto the bread but the tomatoes stay inside the toast. Then I eat it over the sink, in about four bites. That tomato is perfect, as is the bread, the perfect summer sandwich.
2. I put about eight tomatoes in a large bowl, pour very hot water over them, wait about 30 seconds and take the tomatoes out, one at a time, peel the skin off and set them aside. When they are all done I core them, cut them horizontally, squeeze the seeds out over a fine mesh strainer so I get all the juice without the seeds, cut them into chunks and toss them in a good sized saucepan and cook them slowly for about 45 minutes with salt and pepper. Mash them up with a potato masher. Let cool, put into pint containers. Freeze.
3. Core them, cut into quarters, put them on a cookie sheet lined with parchment and freeze them. Once frozen, put in zip locked bags, squishing out as much air as possible and keep in freezer. Perfect for sauce or in stews and soups.
The skins come right off when they are frozen.
And the newest thing, just done today because a guy at work gave me about ten pounds of mostly heirlooms from his garden that were mostly overripe:
4. Core them. Cut in half horizontally and fish out some of the seeds with your fingers. Put in a hotel pan (or a deep sided large pan or cookie sheet), sprinkle with olive oil, salt and pepper and put in a 325-350 oven for an hour, take out and gather up most of the juice and put back in oven, crank it to 400 for another 20 minutes. The tomatoes melt, the skins pop off like a prom dress and that juice you saved can be used in soup or risotto or sauce. So easy and so good. I suppose you could add some sliced garlic and onion but I like it pure and simple.
Heirlooms are great, esp if you are going to do a platter of them sliced with basil and good olive oil, but for sauce they are too seedy and too juicy for me. That's why the 4th option above works so well. The juice gets captured for some other purpose and the heat cooks them down a bit so they collapse and concentrate.
In the cold of winter, what better thing than fresh tomatoes. Sauce, soup, stew, casseroles, they are all so much better with frozen summer tomatoes. No duh.
.
Friday, September 21, 2018
Bill Clinton and James Patterson "The President is Missing" Thumbs down.
No duh. The President and a Writer are both missing from this book. Seriously, Bill Clinton is a good writer. Why he teamed up with Patterson to write spy-espionage-thriller is a mystery to me, no pun intended. He should have written it himself.
I read a lot and I have read some James Patterson novels and I state right now, clear and loud that I am not a Patterson fan. If you read two of his books you have read them all. The snobby reader that I am, I don't care if you have the same character in every book (witness the success of Lee Child with that Jack Reacher guy, a character I have loved for some time until recently, but that's an essay for another day) but just jimmy the plot a bit, throw in some strangeness and something different. Patterson does not do that.
So we have this BLOCKBUSTER NOVEL (marketing caps, not mine) of a collaboration between Patterson and Bill Clinton. I suppose it was born of a need for Clinton to pen a book with his wisdom and his experience couched in a fake character. That's fine, but why pick Patterson? He's a hack. Clinton is not. There are so many other writers to buddy up with, Lee Child included. How cool to have a sort-of Reacher character as maybe the VP who coerced the P into disappearing and the FBI and CIA knew nothing about it!
But I digress. This book, "The President is Missing" was good for about 75 pages. At that point, for me, it began to disintegrate. I read another 25 pages and tossed it on the floor and stepped on it. It was stupid and a waste of my time.
Sorry, Bill. Write a book on your own. You were President which means you have a good imagination and you can create your own female terrorists (Bach, really?) and you can still have room to spout your Democratic ideology to the masses. Man up. Get a gun and a secret car and a better disguise (a hat and fake hair, really?) and make it happen.
No disrespect, Mr. President, but you can do a lot better.
.
I read a lot and I have read some James Patterson novels and I state right now, clear and loud that I am not a Patterson fan. If you read two of his books you have read them all. The snobby reader that I am, I don't care if you have the same character in every book (witness the success of Lee Child with that Jack Reacher guy, a character I have loved for some time until recently, but that's an essay for another day) but just jimmy the plot a bit, throw in some strangeness and something different. Patterson does not do that.
So we have this BLOCKBUSTER NOVEL (marketing caps, not mine) of a collaboration between Patterson and Bill Clinton. I suppose it was born of a need for Clinton to pen a book with his wisdom and his experience couched in a fake character. That's fine, but why pick Patterson? He's a hack. Clinton is not. There are so many other writers to buddy up with, Lee Child included. How cool to have a sort-of Reacher character as maybe the VP who coerced the P into disappearing and the FBI and CIA knew nothing about it!
But I digress. This book, "The President is Missing" was good for about 75 pages. At that point, for me, it began to disintegrate. I read another 25 pages and tossed it on the floor and stepped on it. It was stupid and a waste of my time.
Sorry, Bill. Write a book on your own. You were President which means you have a good imagination and you can create your own female terrorists (Bach, really?) and you can still have room to spout your Democratic ideology to the masses. Man up. Get a gun and a secret car and a better disguise (a hat and fake hair, really?) and make it happen.
No disrespect, Mr. President, but you can do a lot better.
.
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