In Review

We haven't been so very lucky with movies lately, but we seem to be doing better with books.

Inception

Just last week, we headed to the theater to see the at-least-somewhat acclaimed Inception. I had read some great comments about this flick, but with all apologies and due respect to Lorna who is at least ten times smarter than me, to put it mildly I didn't care for it. To me and my tiny, it was nothing but endless rounds of chases and shootouts camouflaged in an esoteric scifi sort of plot. Did I mention that I hate chases and shootouts?

Verdict = Epic Fail

A Single Man

Then we watched A Single Man on video (yes, I know they're DVDs now, but please give me a break because I still also call any sort of video recording a tape, even though tape died a slow and agonizing death a longtime ago). Single Man starring Colin Firth, whom I like very much, centers around a gay professor in the early sixties before gay meant what it does now and before consciousnesses were raised (except for the rabid evangelical who stopped following me when I posted a slideshow of my gay daughter's wedding. The nerve of a father not to stone his gay offspring. ) In Single Man, George Falconer played by Firth, an English professor tragically lost his partner and contemplated ending his own life.

Without the plot overdoing social commentary, I was able to empathize with the frustration of being gay in the closetted sixties, at least in the early part of the decade. With its subdued, somewhat reticent script, it seems to be the type of film that critics would love. Indeed, Firth garnered a spot in the race for best actor.

Although I don't dislike all slow-paced films, this one was a little too halting for my taste. Nevertheless, I didn't hate it. I think it's worth watching.

Verdict = A Somewhat Grudging Pass

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

Here's where I can begin to raise both my thumbs. First, Thesha read the book and recommended it to Cuppa who in turn read it couldn't stop raving about it. I confess that this mystery set in Sweden in 2002 by the now deceased Steig Larsson also grabbed this old curmudgeon and forced him to read in a way that he seldom does anymore. What fun to delve so happily into a book again.

The plot centers around a financial reporter and a young female computer whiz and hacker. They are brought together in a most interesting way to solve an odd and longtime unsolved case. This is not your run-of-the-mill detective novel (although I am quite happy with lots of those), and I think it would appeal to all sorts of readers.

My only nitpickerish complaints might be that (i) it does begin a bit slowly, and (ii) does tend to get a little Ludlumesesque or even worse Grishamesque towards the end. But don't let that stop you because I was quite eager to pick up the second in the trilogy and Cuppa was just as eager to move on to book three. Please don't let the trilogy aspect throw you off because each volume stands on its own. If there had never been a second Girl With novel, I would have been quite chuffed just have read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

Verdict = Six Thumbs Up
(two each from AC, Cuppa and Thesha)

Morning Tidbits

Speaking of tidbits, they are titbits in Britain, but I suppose we're too puritanical to say tit over here. Oddly enough, however, according to dictionary.com tid is the original source word: "c.1640, probably from dialectal tid 'fond, solicitous, tender' + bit 'morsel.' "

I have this morning received birthday wishes on Facebook from as far away as Finland and Georgia. Isn't that cool?

I enjoyed a hearty laugh at my computer this morning. After writing my birthday post (last night), I checked my email (this morning). I clicked on a message from Best Buy, which informed me that there is a new generation of iPods out there. So, my birthday iPod is already obsolete — on my birthday no less. That is too funny. (Note: I just proofread the above; I had typed Beast Buy instead of Best Buy. What do you think of that?)

How nice to know that even the prestigious NY Times is prone to making careless errors. I also received an email from them yesterday. Please note the discrepancy between the title and subject of the following text. To wit: Wimbledon is over and the US Open is on.

Wimbledon 2010
Follow Straight Sets, the Tennis Blog of The New York Times, for updates, insights, links and analysis on the U.S. Open. Stay up-to-the minute with live tweeting from the tournament by Times reporters and editors. Don't miss Open House, featuring Gerry Marzorati and Michael Kimmelman who are covering all of the nooks and crannies of the Open. For complete coverage of the U.S. Open visit nytimes.com/tennis.

Speaking of tennis, I read this morning that Andy Roddick lost it a bit last night. Not only did he lose the match but lost his cool when he was called for a foot fault. Apparently he did foot fault, but when he asked the linesperson which foot, she picked the wrong one. Supposedly, it was the fact that she got the foot wrong and not the call itself that sent him into a tizzy. I do feel for Roddick, however; he is/was a fine player who would have won more tournaments and received more recognition had he not had the misfortune to play in the Roger Federer era.

Finally, last week KGMom posted a link on Facebook to a long article in the New Yorker mainly about the Koch brothers who have apparently funded the Tea Party so-called grass roots movements. I read the ten page essay, if not terribly closely, for interest sake. My take was and is that I find it terribly ironical that scores of Americans are being led by big business to protest big government. The NY Times reports, somewhat succinctly, on the original story.

Birthday Twinges

My goodness, today I begin my 64th year on this planet. That means that it's my 63rd birthday for those of you who get confused by such things. All I asked for was a new iPod, and I already received it when we were all together last week. It's a spiffy little red one, the colour that supports Bono's effort to fight AIDS in Africa. I'm glad the family thought to add that nice touch, but there is another part of me that feels a bit funny about having this iPod even though it's what I asked for.

You see, I was the first in the family to purchase an iPod almost five years ago. I dithered a lot before I made the leap, but it has proved useful over the years in ways that I don't need to detail here and now. I say that I dithered before purchasing it because it's a frivolous item — really frivolous. After much angst, I capitulated and bought the thing but still felt some subsequent pangs of guilt.

Five years later, that pod being on its last legs (if you can picture that), I asked and received for a new one for my birthday this year. It's not an iTouch, iPhone or iPad but just a little Nano for goodness sakes, but I still feel the odd twinge of guilt because I could surely live without an iPod of any sort, and my old one still more or less functions.

To some extent we all now begin to think it's necessary to have computers, cell phones and myriad other goodies. We can't seem to live without them. Most of us have both cell phone and multiple land phones, and both varieties must have such features as call answer, call forwarding, caller id and whatnot. We have satellite dishes for our multiple televisions which must carry hundreds of channels lest we feel deprived. There was a time when all the telephone did was ring and all the television channels we received were twelve ... if we were lucky.

Times have changed. I like my toys and comforts as much as the next guy or gal, maybe even more than most, and I own my share. But I still sometimes feel a little guilty over possessing unnecessary luxury items such as this. As I said, I like to have them, but I think also experiencing the odd guilt twinge about having so much in this inequitable world isn't such a bad thing.

Portraits of my Smiter

This may come as news to you, but I must confess to being totally smitten with Nikki Dee. I love to take her picture, but it's not always easy because unlike her brother she has never been very prone to play up to the camera. Oh, I get some fine shots from time to time, but when I do, I feel that I must share them for all of the world to see. So, when I was able to grab these pictures at the cottage last week, they begged to be blogged. And who am I to disregard a begging photo?

The first is my fave, I think, but I love them all. Sometimes, not posing and not smiling for the camera is a good thing.









Sweet dreams, kid.

There was no AC for AC

I'm sure there must have been exceptions, but I can't recall any. You see, in my mind there has always been a heat wave around this time of year. As our temperatures hover around 31°C/90°F, I'm feeling like a chicken on a rotisserie and remembering all of those early back-to-school days when I was teaching. The heat wave seemed to happen every single darn year, just when one wants to be as fresh as a daisy to make good initial impressions on those darlings who sat before me eager to soak up my pearls of wisdom. Instead, they had to make do with beholding my sweaty armpits.

The luck of the draw always had me in a hot classroom with poor ventilation and oodles of heat retention. I had four main rooms that were mine over the course of thirty years, and they were all hot ones. Parts of my schools were even reconstructed from time to time, which meant that AC was added — but not for this AC. Nope: I was never fortunate enough to occupy one of those AC'ed rooms — even long after I had paid my dues and had earned it.

Never ever would it occur to me to complain to you dear folk. I'm just reminiscing.

That's all.

Into the Mists of Oblivion?

I confess; I am a hummer. I hum to myself all of the time, and I much of the time I'm not even aware. Although I am not humming right now while my mind is occupied with a task, I am prone to hum much of my life away. I hum when I walk, when I cook, when I shop: in otherwords a lot. I often don't know what I am doing until I catch myself at it, and I am frequently peeved to realize that I've been humming without realizing it.

The other day at the cottage, we were playing toss and balance the stick, and my nephew asked me if it helped for me to hum while trying to catch and balance. I wasn't aware that I was doing it at and can't fathom why I would be if I were in my right mind. I confess that this tendency worries me to some degree as I understand that humming is a characteristic of some Alzheimer sufferers.

Usually, there's an earworm connected to this strange behaviour of mine. Thank goodness my earworms rotate frequently. Some earworms I recognize: others not so much. Lately I've been humming a song that I've been wondering if I have made up. Apparently it is the Highland (or Skye) Boat Song (see below) because when I heard it the other day, I went "Aha! That's it!" But the only place that I can think that I might have possibly heard it is on a CD that I purchased sometime back and have hardly ever played and even then only in the background some time ago. So why it stuck with me, I know not. Of course, I know that I've heard it somewhere else as well in my life, but the point is that it's not exactly in my repertoire, so I can't fathom why it's been stuck in my head.

I worry myself sometime, but if I'm slipping into the oblivious mists, I guess I'll go on my way singing happily in my tiny little head.

Of Campfires and Sparklers

I can't build a campfire to save my life, but other members of the family have the knack. And so, we had campfires at the cottage: campfires with hot dogs, marshmallows, and ... er ... refreshments. One night I took my camera down and tried to shoot in the natural light — or natural darkness rather. With no artificial light and only the glow of the fire, I didn't have too much success. However, I did manage to salvage these two pictures of Nikki Dee with sparklers. She loved sitting around the fire with the old folk and singing songs. She would lead us in Twinkle Twinkle and even carry on with her spontaneous songs of whatever came into her wonderful little head.