First of all, before I get into details about anything, I have to say that whoever writes the promo spots for NBC should be fired. If possible, the promo staff should be retroactively fired to before this season's episode promos started airing, so we could start over with promos that do not actively turn you off from the shows you formerly loved.
Click here to read the rest.
At this point, anything I'm watching on NBC is in spite of the promos, not because of them. Of course, the only things I'm regularly watching NBC are FNL and Journeyman (more on that later), but the promos spots for these two shows in particular are horrendous. I can just see the thought-process there: What are the most exquisitely painful plot points we can highlight, and how can we make sure everyone knows that their favorite characters are either in peril or miserable, or -- jackpot! -- both?
Seriously, NBC: knock it off, because you're making it harder and harder for me to want to watch these shows, which is a shame because when I finally overcome my promo-based aversion and fire up the TiVO, I adore them just as much as I ever did, if not more. So please, stop it.
2.2 - Bad Ideas
I loved this episode's title, it was so fitting. So many bad ideas, so little time. It seems every single character is caught in a downward spiral this season, the only difference is their relative velocities as they hurtle towards their collective doom. I'm not kidding about that, either -- everyone is in trouble.
The Taylors, together, are struggling with being separated and the feeling that their family is coming apart at the seams. Neither one is over-reacting to the stresses around them, which are considerable. Tami is completely overwhelmed by newborn, cranky Grace, and teenaged, rebellious Julie. The house is a disaster and Julie is not doing anything at all, it seems, to help out. I think it's hard to realize how alone Tami is in Dillon, in spite of the fact that she has a daughter. Her contacts at school are exactly that, school contacts, and she doesn't have another woman friend she can call up and say, "Hey, you can watch Grace for an hour so I can get some shopping done?", or anything else, for that matter. She should be able to leave Grace with Julie, and in fact she should be actively trying to get Julie to engage with her little sister, but Julie is so wrapped up in her own misery right now she's practically unreachable. Of course, if Julie would pitch in at home and help her mom, she might not feel so isolated, but she doesn't see it that way, and reacts (as teenagers typically do) by withdrawing.
When Glen, the science teacher who's covering for Tami while she's on her maternity leave, stops by with a box of files to review with her, he inadvertently becomes Tami's local support system. I don't think he minds, but he does know that he's out of his depth. He was right to ask what Tami was thinking, out walking with Grace in 105 degree heat -- believe me, when the thermometer reads 105, it's a lot hotter on the sidewalk, in the sun, and both mother and daughter were set up for dehydration. Tami should know better -- Tami does know better, but she's not thinking very clearly at the moment. Tami is not at all interested in Glen as a man, but I think it's very possible that Glen has a crush on Tami, even though he'd never do a thing about it, and I loved that he was finally able to get her to admit that living apart from Eric was her idea, and it was a stupid one. I'm relieved that Tami finally asked for help, and I think that it was OK to ask Glen, but I wish she wouldn't stop there -- she needs to keep reaching out and getting support, and as a counselor, she should know that. Isolation is terrible, and having a new baby is tremendously isolating even if you have other kids!
Back to Julie, her attraction to the Swede finally overtakes her impulse to behave decently towards Saracen, which has been waning for some time now; she finally gets up the nerve to give the "it's not you, it's me," speech, but doing it makes her feel worse, not better. She gets over that pretty quickly, though -- only to be patted on the head by the Swede when she sees him at the pool! Sorry, but the Swede is a creep. He knows Julie is only 16 years old and his flirting with her is completely icky. He has to be in his 20s, and he's way too old for Julie, and yet he pursues her. Personally, at this point I think Lois and Saracen should get together, because they've both been badly used by Julie and could bond over that. Plus, Lois seems like a genuinely good girl, as opposed to the brat that Julie is becoming.
Moving onto Saracen, he made his best attempt to keep Julie, and keep her happy, but she had already moved on. He's struggling with the new coach's attitude, and his grandmother is as dotty as ever. Julie dumping him will ultimately turn out to be a good thing for him, I think, as will the arrival of his grandmother's live-in nurse. It's a shame that she's (so far) a stereotype feisty bitch, but she does seem to know what's she talking about regarding the care his grandmother needs. Again, this will, in the long term, turn out to be a good thing for Matt, as he won't have to worry so much about what's going on at home. High school juniors should worry about SATs, grades, and girls, and not whether or not Grandma is bathing at the neighbor's house again. Still, transitions are hard, and Matt has a lot of new situations to accustom himself to.
The Tyra/Landry storyline got stupider, which I did not think possible, with the introduction of the Lost Watch Issue. Stupid, stupid, stupid, but still, it forced the two characters together in an intimate setting, and gave Landry a believable setting in which to finally profess his love for Tyra. Two important things happened then: first, she believed him, and second, she was surprised, because she had never allowed herself to see it. Landry was not that good at hiding his feelings for Tyra, but she was great at not recognizing them for what they were. Now it's all out there. Tyra's subsequent confession to Landry shows what a great couple they are -- he's not sorry he did it and would do it again, for her; she wishes she had done it, both for the satisfaction and to spare him -- and she was equally believable. I liked that Tyra didn't jump into saying she loves Landry, because she doesn't know how she feels about him -- but she knows she feels enough for him to sleep with him, and the way that all works out was pretty much OK.
Jason Street: team mascot, or quarterback coach? Well, since the new coach has such an emphasis on the running game and Smash in particular, Jason isn't left with much to do. But he has new hope since he can make a fist now, something he wasn't able to do before. He's disappointed when the doctor insists, for the nth time, that he won't walk again. One of Jason's rugby teammates tells him about some experimental stem cell surgery they're doing in Mexico (forcibly reminding us of the episode's title.) Later, Jason runs into Tami as she's leaving Glen's office, and tells her that in his recurring dream, she tells him to get up and walk, and he does. He thanks her; Tami is touched but concerned, but Jason is radiantly hopeful.
Lyla's still a Jesus freak, but her prayers become less confident as she watches Tim Riggins macking with a rally girl on the other side of the cafeteria. Riggins is still messing up in practice and calling the coach's wrath down upon himself. The two are brought together when Buddy, Lyla's dad, overdoes it at the pep rally -- moved from his dealership out to a rival booster's ranch -- and collapses in a drunken heap. Riggins helps Lyla get her dad to his generic apartment, and the two share a (non-physical) moment. These two have chemistry, but Lyla knows that going back to Tim would be very, very bad for her, and resists. Tim, for his part, is still in love with her, and I'm not sure what it would take for him to not be.
Coming back around to Coach Taylor, he's struggling in his position at TMU. He's low man on the totem pole, and as such he's assigned the unpleasant task of ferrying an unrepentant player to a hearing on ethics charges. Taylor gives the obnoxious player an earful on how his selfishness and arrogance are letting the team down, but the player scores one on Taylor, asking him what the hell he's doing in Austin when he has a new baby at home in Dillon. Since the player smartens up and sincerely apologizes, and Taylor steps in and says they'll make sure this guy straightens up, the player ends up with only a 3-game suspension. When the head coach congratulates Taylor on his accomplishment, Eric realizes that this is the way it's going to be: he's the guy that gets to put out these fires, because he can pull it off, but he's not going to have any chance to change the culture there that leads to these problems in the first place, because he has no influence there. Tami says he has to make himself indispensable, but that's the kind of thing that happens over years of experience, and how frustrating it must be for Taylor to be shuttled over to a position of no real responsibility after guiding his high school team's every move on their way to the state championship.
In short: no one's happy, but the stuff that's happening makes sense. The only really egregious thing was the Lost Watch business, but Tyra and Landry are doing OK in spite of it -- Landry, hysterically, asks "his" rally girl if she thinks everyone is capable of evil; before the bubblehead can answer, Tyra whisks him away. I wish that Tami would sit Julie down and admit to her that this bad idea was hers, and that she needs Julie's help -- that would go a long way towards reconciling Julie to what's going on in their home, but alas, that doesn't happen, and things go from bad to worse.
2.3, Are You Ready for Friday Night?
Easily could've been title, "Bad Ideas, continued."
The high points of the episode, for me, surprisingly, were all about Landry and Tyra: Waking in the morning, Landry shushing Tyra before she says something that "will undoubtedly ruin the most perfect night of my life;" Tyra climbing out of Landry's window, seen but unremarked upon by Landry's father. Landry's dad asking him if he's seeing any girls, and not pressing when Landry says he's not. Later, Landry's dad goes to Applebee's for lunch, and Tyra's his waitress. The "So, are you dating my son or what?" is too complicated for Tyra, and she takes a minute to think about why she hangs around with Landry, and in describing him to his father, she realizes that maybe she should love him, even if she doesn't, quite yet. So when she climbs back in the window, later, we know exactly why, and we can enjoy that these two have each other for at least a little while before everything goes all to hell (next week's episode promos reveal that the body was found.)
Unfortunately, some clunky Lost Watch foreshadowing was shoe-horned into these scenes, but since they launched that particular plot line, I guess they can't just leave it dangling.
Coach Taylor really doesn't like his job. He's working with a new young player who's having trouble with a particular play, just not getting it; Taylor is frankly appalled when he is directed to cut the boy loose. It's one thing to cut a high school kid, but at a football school, what are the odds that cutting the kid will mean that he loses his scholarship, and his chance to get an education? Taylor doesn't want to do it, and even asks if he has to do it, which is kind of weaselly; I'd assume he'd know already that was part of his job, but we never actually see him tell the kid he's cut.
Meanwhile, Eric is keeping tabs on what's happening back in Dillon, where Buddy is feeding him a line about how the new coach, McGregor, is brutal, and everything is falling apart. It's true the team spirit is at an all time low, as Smash is the center of attention and enjoying it, not giving anyone else credit for anything. It's so bad that other members of the team prevail upon Saracen to talk to Smash about his attitude, but inarticulate Matt was probably not the best choice to go up against smooth-talking Smash, who says it's all about Saracen being jealous because he's not captain anymore, and other assorted trash talk. Saracen insists that's not it, but Smash blows him off, and all the other players are even more steamed.
Riggins shows up at practice hungover, and ends up passing out when the coach responds with his usual draconian extra-drills approach; he ends up hospitalized for the better part of the day until Buddy Garrity, of all people, signs him out. Lyla stops by to visit, to repay the kindness he showed in helping her with her father after the pep rally incident, and she invites to Riggins to her church.
Jason Street, meanwhile, is trying to get Riggins to shape up but is constantly being denigrated by McGregor. During the season opener, nothing goes as planned, and the team is deadlocked at 0-0 until McGregor gives a play directly to Smash, who runs it in for a touchdown. Throughout the game, Street had tried to make suggestions to break the deadlock, but McGregor blows him off, saying he doesn't have time to listen to advice from the team mascot. On the field, Saracen loses it at the sight of Smash's grandstanding, and attacks him; the whole team ends up out there, trying to pull Matt off Smash. All the women in the stands look on, appalled; Eric watches from the sidelines, thinking: What the hell has this guy done to my team?
Julie wasn't even at the game, it seems; she's hanging out the Swede and his pot-smoking college friends, talking about politics and the environment and all those grown-up topics; Julie tosses off a remark about global warming, and everyone appreciates how smart and funny she is. Julie passes on the joint. Meanwhile, Tami is leaving messages on Julie's cell phone that it's 2AM... eventually we see Julie parked with the Swede, in front of the Taylor's house; they're making out. Tami sees them through the window and storms out, and demands that Julie get in the house. Julie refuses, and asks the Swede to take her away. Showing an ounce of sense for the first time, he refuses, "That would be kidnapping." Still, Tami ends up literally dragging Julie out of the van, saying she's not grown up and rid of Tami yet. Julie says they got rid of her when her dad went to Austin and Tami had Grace, which gets her a slap in the face; she runs into the house, crying. We don't get to see whether Tami and the Swede had words, but I would've really liked to hear them.
After the game, Erik meets with Buddy Garrity at his dealership; Buddy looks like he fell asleep face-first into his paperwork. Buddy starts selling Eric on the idea of coming back to Dillon, citing how McGregor is messing up the team, but then smoothly moving on to how Eric's family is struggling. Eric gets home, Tami confesses that she slapped Julie, and then she completely breaks down. (Emmy reel #2 for Connie Britton.) Eric ends up back at the dealership, shaking Buddy's hand and saying he hopes he won't regret this. Now, this is a sign of how desperate the situation is, because Eric Taylor knows that Buddy Garrity is not a straight-up kind of guy. Buddy's not totally sleazy, but he's not completely trustworthy, either. Why would Eric do this? Another factor to consider: Taylor doesn't realize just how out of the loop Buddy is. Does Eric realize that Buddy has been pushed out of the Panthers' Booster inner circle, and that he doesn't weild as much influence as he once used to? We don't know, but chances are, Eric doesn't realize that; if he did, he might have been more hesitant to enter into this Faustian bargain with the disgraced and displaced car salesman.
Meanwhile, at the Saracen house, the new girl is helping with Grandma but not doing Matt's laundry, an issue I can see both sides of. It's kind of obnoxious to do everyone else's laundry without telling Matt beforehand that she wasn't going to do his, too, especially since it's not that much extra work to throw Matt's clothes in with the others. Doing laundry for one person is a pain in the butt, you end up with three or four really small loads depending on how you sort it. So I'm thinking the nurse is going to be a world-class jerk until after the game, when Matt trudges in, abraded and depressed, and then she's actually nice to him. I liked the vibe there, which was much more big-sister/caretaker than romantic, especially her singing the song her mother used to sing her when she got hurt when she was little. It could go either way, but for now I'd rather not see Matt get romantically involved with anyone. That kids need to rest his bruised psyche.
Riggins takes up Lyla on her church offer, and we get to see a huge mega-church production with all sorts of singing and carrying-on. I don't think it was disrespectful to show this, as I believe it was accurate, but at the same time, I don't like that kind of ostentatious, revival meeting "service." Riggins is unreadable in these scenes, but later he goes to Lyla's bedroom as she's undressing for bed, and tells her he thinks he felt something. I honestly couldn't tell whether or not he meant it or was just trying to get Lyla to sleep with him again; when he kisses her, it would seem that we should go with "ruse", but I'm still not sure. Lyla is, though, and kicks him out: "Did you think I would fall for that?"
Riggins is a mess, at home, drinking, when Street rolls up and tosses a beer bottle at his house, screaming at him to come out. Jason's little speech has just the right amount of inarticulate rage, as he defends his coaching ability while insisting that he and Riggins end their "so-called friendship." Riggins just lets Street rant until Jason gets to the part about going to Mexico for the surgery, and then stops him: "Wait a minute. Mexico?" Next thing you know, both boys are in Street's truck, and it's road trip time. Hilarity ensues: "Do you have a map?" "I have a map," followed by Riggins attempting to give Street a beer. When Street declines, Riggins says, but we're going to Mexico! Street replies: "We're still in Texas, you idiot."
Previews for next week are ominous, with the body's discovery and at least one of the boys getting arrested, and Tami's joyous "Guess who's home?" immediately deflated by Eric's concerned "You mean I don't have a job?"
As I said, the promo guys are killing me. The show, on the other hand, is holding up remarkably well. I know there's hate out there, hate for the Landry/Tyra storyline, and now there's probably hate for the Eric/Buddy handshake, and what that portends. I said in my write-up of the first episode that I wanted Eric to stick it out for a season, because I didn't see how he could do otherwise and ever expect to get a job, but then I didn't foresee Buddy Garrity getting involved in the process. Buddy needs the Panthers even more (sadly) than he needs his family, and a cornered man will do whatever it takes to survive, so I'm not putting anything past Buddy Garrity's capabilities. But it's pretty obvious that things are going to get worse before they get better. The question is, will anyone be left watching by the time things start turning around? Will the show even still be on the air by that time? God, I hope so.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
not what I expected --
This last week, I mean. Don't know where it went.
The new floors are in, look gorgeous. More on that later, with photos. We have tons of work to do now, putting everything back together again.
Off to bed now; I've determined that getting enough sleep means the difference between feeling human and having to fake it all day. Pain is such a great motivator.
Blessed repose.
The new floors are in, look gorgeous. More on that later, with photos. We have tons of work to do now, putting everything back together again.
Off to bed now; I've determined that getting enough sleep means the difference between feeling human and having to fake it all day. Pain is such a great motivator.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
reading & writing
Also, cooking. Just not blogging.
New flooring materials delivered later today; re-installation begins Thursday. It will be lovely to get everything back where it belongs.
The kids are back in school, so several things I've had in the queue to post may finally see the light of day. The craziness will be ratcheting up soon and won't let up until after Valentine's Day; I just need to keep my head down and keep moving to survive the holidays.
New flooring materials delivered later today; re-installation begins Thursday. It will be lovely to get everything back where it belongs.
The kids are back in school, so several things I've had in the queue to post may finally see the light of day. The craziness will be ratcheting up soon and won't let up until after Valentine's Day; I just need to keep my head down and keep moving to survive the holidays.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Torchwood 1.6: Countrycide
With the sixth episode of its debut season, Torchwood's identity crisis continues. Its premise collapses under mere moments of scrutiny, there's no cool technology or special effects, and my favorite character does something rather loathsome. But don't let all that put you off: "Countrycide" fires on all cylinders, featuring brilliant camera work and believable character development. Now, whether or not you will like it depends on your tolerance for on-screen blood and guts.Read the rest at The House Next Door.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
updates
Kids are on fall break this week, so the regular schedule is out the window. We do have other things scheduled, though, including my mammogram on Wednesday. Ick.
Some progress on the flooring: DH and I have selected new flooring and ordered it; when it comes in, the installers will come back, rip out all the existing stuff, level the floors properly, and then install the new stuff. I'm happy because the new stuff (Alloc Classic Rustic Pear) is really gorgeous and we're getting rid of the quarter-round. It doesn't look horrible, in fact most people probably wouldn't even notice it, but to me, having the quarter-round baseboard molding just tells everyone that the floors were put in as an afterthought. So, since it costs us literally nothing to have them take off and re-use the existing moldings, that's what we're doing... this time. Of course we'll have to touch up the paint (again) but that's OK, I'm psyched to be getting rid of the quarter-round.
Took DS1 for his bloodwork today, and the poor boy has inherited my lousy veins. My attempts to get him to hydrate himself this morning were met with much opposition. The poor boy needed three sticks before they could find a vein. I think he'll be much more diligent about drinking up before his next blood test, whenever that may be.
Last but not least, inspired by Sissy, our first pie of the season, a smashing success. Just days after I complained about not being to find Cortlands hereabouts, I ran into HoneyCrisp apples in the market. They were pricey but I wanted to try them, having always heard good things about them. I used the apple corer/peeler/slicer with fantastic results on these firm apples. As hoped, they held their shape in the pie, but they really are just a little too juicy; you can see that some of the liquid bubbled up through the slits in the top crust. It wasn't too much, though; the only reason any spilled on the oven floor is because I tipped the pie when I was lifting it out.
HoneyCrisps are sweeter than the average pie apple, so I used only a scant 1/2 cup of Splenda and a slightly generous tablespoon of lemon juice to balance the flavors. Not too much cinnamon and just a little grating of fresh nutmeg with the butter and flour made the filling delicious, not runny, and not goopy, either. The thinner slices from the peeler/corer/slicer might disintegrate with some apple varieties, but the HoneyCrisp stood up well, and -- hooray! -- I didn't end up with the big domed upper crust towering over the flat filling beneath. I'm sold on the peeler/corer/slicer, permanently.
We all enjoyed it for dessert with vanilla whipped cream, and I'm doing my darnedest right now to ignore its calling me back into the kitchen for a before-bed snack. Happy Fall!
Some progress on the flooring: DH and I have selected new flooring and ordered it; when it comes in, the installers will come back, rip out all the existing stuff, level the floors properly, and then install the new stuff. I'm happy because the new stuff (Alloc Classic Rustic Pear) is really gorgeous and we're getting rid of the quarter-round. It doesn't look horrible, in fact most people probably wouldn't even notice it, but to me, having the quarter-round baseboard molding just tells everyone that the floors were put in as an afterthought. So, since it costs us literally nothing to have them take off and re-use the existing moldings, that's what we're doing... this time. Of course we'll have to touch up the paint (again) but that's OK, I'm psyched to be getting rid of the quarter-round.
Took DS1 for his bloodwork today, and the poor boy has inherited my lousy veins. My attempts to get him to hydrate himself this morning were met with much opposition. The poor boy needed three sticks before they could find a vein. I think he'll be much more diligent about drinking up before his next blood test, whenever that may be.
Last but not least, inspired by Sissy, our first pie of the season, a smashing success. Just days after I complained about not being to find Cortlands hereabouts, I ran into HoneyCrisp apples in the market. They were pricey but I wanted to try them, having always heard good things about them. I used the apple corer/peeler/slicer with fantastic results on these firm apples. As hoped, they held their shape in the pie, but they really are just a little too juicy; you can see that some of the liquid bubbled up through the slits in the top crust. It wasn't too much, though; the only reason any spilled on the oven floor is because I tipped the pie when I was lifting it out.
HoneyCrisps are sweeter than the average pie apple, so I used only a scant 1/2 cup of Splenda and a slightly generous tablespoon of lemon juice to balance the flavors. Not too much cinnamon and just a little grating of fresh nutmeg with the butter and flour made the filling delicious, not runny, and not goopy, either. The thinner slices from the peeler/corer/slicer might disintegrate with some apple varieties, but the HoneyCrisp stood up well, and -- hooray! -- I didn't end up with the big domed upper crust towering over the flat filling beneath. I'm sold on the peeler/corer/slicer, permanently.
We all enjoyed it for dessert with vanilla whipped cream, and I'm doing my darnedest right now to ignore its calling me back into the kitchen for a before-bed snack. Happy Fall!
Monday, October 08, 2007
Friday Night Lights 2.1: 80% fantastic, 20% stupid
"Last Days of Summer"
(spoilers)
So, last week I tried to convince you to watch Friday Night Lights, and I really hope you did.
Now, I'm hoping you'll stick around for the rest of the season, because the season two premiere, "Last Days of Summer," may not have been what you signed up for, especially if you were already a fan.
Click here to read the rest.
A lot of people have complained, a lot, about the character betrayals and set-ups this episode threw at us, and I can understand that. I'm not ready to quit, though, because I well remember how often the writing staff dug itself into a pit only to somehow get itself out again in just a few nimble episodes. So, here's the rundown:
The Taylors: by far still the best thing on television now, and possibly ever. Tami goes into labor unexpectedly, three weeks away from her due date; Coach has to fly back from Austin and gets there just in the nick of time. When we last saw this couple, Panthers had just won State, Tami had told Eric about her pregnancy, and Eric had accepted a job as the quarterback coach at fictional TMU in Austin. Eric wanted to move the family up so they could all be together, Tami insisted that she and Julie stay. Tami, because she loved her job as a guidance counselor and felt she was making a real contribution to the town, and Julie so she could have some stability for a few years before she graduated high school.
Apparently, Eric had been coming home for the weekend every two or three weeks, or maybe there were longer stretches in between. This long-distance commuter marriage/family situation would be enough to make anyone crazy, and it has had its effects on Julie, who while not exactly unhappy with Matt Saracen, is wondering Is this all there is? This can't be all there is! Julie's scene with Tami at the pool is marvelously underwritten. There's no need for dialog to convey exactly what Julie -- and every other teen at the pool -- is thinking: There's Mrs. Coach, hugely pregnant, living proof that she has sex with Coach! Every guy is thinking how lucky Coach is, because Tami is hot, and every girl -- except Julie -- is thinking she wouldn't mind bearing Coach's babies. Julie, meanwhile, wants to die, because she's a teenager and she does not want to think about her parents having sex, because it's just too gross to contemplate. All of this gets communicated through facial expressions and body language and tone of voice, and it's completely brilliant.
Connie Britton has an Emmy reel already, from that pitch-perfect scene with Julie at the pool to holding back tears when Eric has to return to Austin, only to completely collapse as soon as she hears the click of the door. Here's the thing with Tami: she knows that staying in Dillon was her idea, that Eric never wanted it, and now she's regretting that decision even though she will never be able to admit that to anyone, ever herself. She promised Eric she could do it, and so she will.
Meanwhile, Coach is trying to figure out what the heck he's doing with his family, including his new baby, hours away from where he works. That kind of divided life ages you quickly, and he looked worn out even before the baby was born. This life is weighing on him. I know he hates it, but he promised he would endure it because Tami asked him to, and she promised him they could do it, together. Then Gracie comes three weeks early (we'll cut them a ton of slack for not casting a smaller baby -- it's impossible to get newborns), at a time of the year when the coaches are establishing their teams and everything. Eric has to go if he's going to keep his job.
I've always hated -- in real life or on film -- any dialog containing the words I have no choice, because there's always a choice. When Eric says it, what he means is, My choice is between my job and my family, and if I don't have a job, that's the biggest betrayal of my family I could ever commit. The choice has been made; if Eric's not working, there's no income. And if he walks away from this job, the odds of him getting another approach zero very quickly. Still, I hated hearing him say it, convincing himself that it was true. And Tami didn't argue.
The Coach/Julie scenes were right up there with the Coach/Tami scenes, ranging from frustration and anger (on both parts) right up through forgiveness and love. Julie was doing a lot of acting out in this episode, especially with the passive-aggressive stuff like not cleaning up the house, and going out on her little sister's first day home. But she was so miserable, all those things were literal cries for help. When her dad came and rescued her in the car, and they talked, really talked, you could see her relaxing back into her love for and faith in him, and their family. The next day, with the tiniest of nods, Tami called Eric's attention to Julie washing dishes, unbidden by anyone. The contrast of how good and right everything is when they are together and how miserable they are apart can be seen in the difference in the family vibe at the beginning of the episode and at the end. Family life is a constant series of negotiations and compromises, but if a major player is absent a majority of the time, everything gets skewed.
Matt Saracen is still a total sweetheart and I love him dearly, and I loved how he was practically aggressive in asking Julie to the party after Coach quite pointedly told him not to just stand there and watch it happen. I expect (hope) now that Julie's eyes have been opened re: the Swede (cute, but way too old for her), she'll be much nicer to Matt. I've read elsewhere that Matt could do better than Julie, and I suppose that's true; she is a bit whiny and hasn't been very nice to him lately. But he loves her, and understands the pain of separation and family responsibilities -- Julie should let Matt help her cope, instead of shutting him out.
Talk of Saracen of course brings us to the indomitable Landry, who is, somewhat improbably, still friends with Tyra, and trying out for the football team in an effort to win the respect of his dad, not to mention the admiration of Tyra. We haven't met Landry's father yet, so who's to say the ploy won't work, but with respect to Tyra, Landry doesn't get that she likes him because he's not a football player. Jesse Plemons has the build for football, so it's not completely unbelievable when he makes the team, but I'm a little disappointed that Landry's abandoned his counter-cultural hatred of sports. On the other hand, Landry is Saracen's best friend, and Saracen is QB1, so Landry really can't be a big sports-hater after all, can he?
Let's address the murder, shall we? I'm not going to talk about previous versions or any of that crap; the only thing that's "real" in the universe of the show is what NBC broadcast, which is that Landry picked up the pipe and attacked Tyra's would-be rapist from behind, while he was walking away, and Landry hit the man again once he was down. There's no spinning this, it was murder. I think he could reasonably plead temporary insanity but there's no question that it was murder.
So, having murdered the creep, Landry freaks out and Tyra is no help whatsoever. They don't, apparently, call 911, when it would've been so easy to lie and say that Landry whacked the guy while he was attacking Tyra, that would've removed any thought of murder, and there would be no reason for anyone to suspect they lied, anyway. We really don't know what they did, though. Yes, we saw them driving to the bridge, and we got shots of the rushing waters, but did they dump the body? Would they really be that dumb? Hello, the guy's car is still parked at the convenience store.
The only thing I can say is: in real life, people do panic and do stupid things. Also, in this show, the writers have the characters do stupid things, like having Smash lead all the black players off the team while they were in the playoffs, just to impress Waverly. That was stupid, and a betrayal of his character; if you ask me, the one thing Smash understands is the importance of football to Dillon and to his own future, and that kind of showboating maneuver, especially over a trumped-up "offense" supposedly perpetrated by a coach he had worked with for years, was ridiculous. So I hated that plotline, although I did love how they resolved it: Corrina, Smash's mother, gave him a good talking-to and straightened him out, and he called off the strike.
It was stupid of Tim Riggins to start sleeping with his 30-something neighbor, too; when last we saw them, she had kicked him out of her bed and, given Tim's current drunken state, she has kept him away. Tim needs someone to anchor him, and without Tyra or Lyla or neighbor lady, he's toast. I've seen particular complaints about Tim's backsliding, but given his character, it makes a lot of sense to me.
Lyla Garrity, born again? Not such an angel, though -- I cracked up at her scene with Tim ("Enjoy your depravity!") and the "blessing" she said for grace, archly telling off her mother's would-be boyfriend and her mom for wearing "skinny jeans." She's every bit as much of a control freak as ever, only now she has Jesus on her side, Lord help us all. And Lyla's parents are obviously still mired in their breakup, with Buddy still sleeping at the dealership, and snooping around his kids' afterschool activities.
Poor Buddy, his life completely sucks: the new coach won't even let him watch practices. Of course we're meant to detest the new coach, who in real life would swearing a blue streak at his boys, but since this is not HBO, has to make do with the lamest swear-free rants I've yet to hear. Jason Street, looking fit and enjoying his coaching job, can see where New Coach is going to have problems that Eric Taylor never did. I kind of like that New Coach is a hardass, but the problem is, he's a hardass even when he doesn't need to be, and it was over-the-top to accuse Jason of being a mascot.
We can easily read into this situation how things will go, eventually: Dillon hates the New Coach, Coach Taylor hates being so far away from his family, New Coach is let go for some pretext, Taylor is brought back in. How many episodes will this take? I know a lot of fans want Coach Taylor back in Dillon asap, and wish he were already there, but I'm not one of them.
Here's what I'm hoping: Coach Taylor sticks with his team at TMU for the entire season there, and somehow manages the bouncing back and forth between Austin and Dillon. Anything less than that, the writers better have something mock-proof to justify him leaving any sooner. In the real world, that's the way things work. He'd have to stick it out at least a year before he could leave with any credibility or hope of getting a job anywhere else.
As for the murder plot, I have no idea where they're going with that, and I'm scared for both Tyra and Landry. They are two likable characters and I want them to succeed, but again, in real life, sometimes good people get screwed over, and sometimes good people are screwed over by their own very bad decisions. People are freaking out about this scenario because they love Tyra and Landry, and I understand that, but this show is not afraid to show that even good people make mistakes, and good people often fail.
I've read complaints that the murder took viewers out the story, and made the show less real, more tv-drama. These complaints have validity, but since the murder and its aftermath took up so little of the premiere episode, and we don't really know what happened, we're just going to have to wait and see how the writers handle this. I've seen them write themselves out of some jams before, particularly Smash's steroid use and that whole business with the ineligible Voodoo. So I'm not quitting, because I think it's possible to deal with this storyline in an honest and affecting way.
I have faith, and hope -- what can I say? This team gave me a full season's worth of mostly good stuff. The 80% of this show that is fantastic is among the best there is, and even the 20% that's stupid is better than most. Go Panthers!
(spoilers)
So, last week I tried to convince you to watch Friday Night Lights, and I really hope you did.
Now, I'm hoping you'll stick around for the rest of the season, because the season two premiere, "Last Days of Summer," may not have been what you signed up for, especially if you were already a fan.
Click here to read the rest.
A lot of people have complained, a lot, about the character betrayals and set-ups this episode threw at us, and I can understand that. I'm not ready to quit, though, because I well remember how often the writing staff dug itself into a pit only to somehow get itself out again in just a few nimble episodes. So, here's the rundown:
The Taylors: by far still the best thing on television now, and possibly ever. Tami goes into labor unexpectedly, three weeks away from her due date; Coach has to fly back from Austin and gets there just in the nick of time. When we last saw this couple, Panthers had just won State, Tami had told Eric about her pregnancy, and Eric had accepted a job as the quarterback coach at fictional TMU in Austin. Eric wanted to move the family up so they could all be together, Tami insisted that she and Julie stay. Tami, because she loved her job as a guidance counselor and felt she was making a real contribution to the town, and Julie so she could have some stability for a few years before she graduated high school.
Apparently, Eric had been coming home for the weekend every two or three weeks, or maybe there were longer stretches in between. This long-distance commuter marriage/family situation would be enough to make anyone crazy, and it has had its effects on Julie, who while not exactly unhappy with Matt Saracen, is wondering Is this all there is? This can't be all there is! Julie's scene with Tami at the pool is marvelously underwritten. There's no need for dialog to convey exactly what Julie -- and every other teen at the pool -- is thinking: There's Mrs. Coach, hugely pregnant, living proof that she has sex with Coach! Every guy is thinking how lucky Coach is, because Tami is hot, and every girl -- except Julie -- is thinking she wouldn't mind bearing Coach's babies. Julie, meanwhile, wants to die, because she's a teenager and she does not want to think about her parents having sex, because it's just too gross to contemplate. All of this gets communicated through facial expressions and body language and tone of voice, and it's completely brilliant.
Connie Britton has an Emmy reel already, from that pitch-perfect scene with Julie at the pool to holding back tears when Eric has to return to Austin, only to completely collapse as soon as she hears the click of the door. Here's the thing with Tami: she knows that staying in Dillon was her idea, that Eric never wanted it, and now she's regretting that decision even though she will never be able to admit that to anyone, ever herself. She promised Eric she could do it, and so she will.
Meanwhile, Coach is trying to figure out what the heck he's doing with his family, including his new baby, hours away from where he works. That kind of divided life ages you quickly, and he looked worn out even before the baby was born. This life is weighing on him. I know he hates it, but he promised he would endure it because Tami asked him to, and she promised him they could do it, together. Then Gracie comes three weeks early (we'll cut them a ton of slack for not casting a smaller baby -- it's impossible to get newborns), at a time of the year when the coaches are establishing their teams and everything. Eric has to go if he's going to keep his job.
I've always hated -- in real life or on film -- any dialog containing the words I have no choice, because there's always a choice. When Eric says it, what he means is, My choice is between my job and my family, and if I don't have a job, that's the biggest betrayal of my family I could ever commit. The choice has been made; if Eric's not working, there's no income. And if he walks away from this job, the odds of him getting another approach zero very quickly. Still, I hated hearing him say it, convincing himself that it was true. And Tami didn't argue.
The Coach/Julie scenes were right up there with the Coach/Tami scenes, ranging from frustration and anger (on both parts) right up through forgiveness and love. Julie was doing a lot of acting out in this episode, especially with the passive-aggressive stuff like not cleaning up the house, and going out on her little sister's first day home. But she was so miserable, all those things were literal cries for help. When her dad came and rescued her in the car, and they talked, really talked, you could see her relaxing back into her love for and faith in him, and their family. The next day, with the tiniest of nods, Tami called Eric's attention to Julie washing dishes, unbidden by anyone. The contrast of how good and right everything is when they are together and how miserable they are apart can be seen in the difference in the family vibe at the beginning of the episode and at the end. Family life is a constant series of negotiations and compromises, but if a major player is absent a majority of the time, everything gets skewed.
Matt Saracen is still a total sweetheart and I love him dearly, and I loved how he was practically aggressive in asking Julie to the party after Coach quite pointedly told him not to just stand there and watch it happen. I expect (hope) now that Julie's eyes have been opened re: the Swede (cute, but way too old for her), she'll be much nicer to Matt. I've read elsewhere that Matt could do better than Julie, and I suppose that's true; she is a bit whiny and hasn't been very nice to him lately. But he loves her, and understands the pain of separation and family responsibilities -- Julie should let Matt help her cope, instead of shutting him out.
Talk of Saracen of course brings us to the indomitable Landry, who is, somewhat improbably, still friends with Tyra, and trying out for the football team in an effort to win the respect of his dad, not to mention the admiration of Tyra. We haven't met Landry's father yet, so who's to say the ploy won't work, but with respect to Tyra, Landry doesn't get that she likes him because he's not a football player. Jesse Plemons has the build for football, so it's not completely unbelievable when he makes the team, but I'm a little disappointed that Landry's abandoned his counter-cultural hatred of sports. On the other hand, Landry is Saracen's best friend, and Saracen is QB1, so Landry really can't be a big sports-hater after all, can he?
Let's address the murder, shall we? I'm not going to talk about previous versions or any of that crap; the only thing that's "real" in the universe of the show is what NBC broadcast, which is that Landry picked up the pipe and attacked Tyra's would-be rapist from behind, while he was walking away, and Landry hit the man again once he was down. There's no spinning this, it was murder. I think he could reasonably plead temporary insanity but there's no question that it was murder.
So, having murdered the creep, Landry freaks out and Tyra is no help whatsoever. They don't, apparently, call 911, when it would've been so easy to lie and say that Landry whacked the guy while he was attacking Tyra, that would've removed any thought of murder, and there would be no reason for anyone to suspect they lied, anyway. We really don't know what they did, though. Yes, we saw them driving to the bridge, and we got shots of the rushing waters, but did they dump the body? Would they really be that dumb? Hello, the guy's car is still parked at the convenience store.
The only thing I can say is: in real life, people do panic and do stupid things. Also, in this show, the writers have the characters do stupid things, like having Smash lead all the black players off the team while they were in the playoffs, just to impress Waverly. That was stupid, and a betrayal of his character; if you ask me, the one thing Smash understands is the importance of football to Dillon and to his own future, and that kind of showboating maneuver, especially over a trumped-up "offense" supposedly perpetrated by a coach he had worked with for years, was ridiculous. So I hated that plotline, although I did love how they resolved it: Corrina, Smash's mother, gave him a good talking-to and straightened him out, and he called off the strike.
It was stupid of Tim Riggins to start sleeping with his 30-something neighbor, too; when last we saw them, she had kicked him out of her bed and, given Tim's current drunken state, she has kept him away. Tim needs someone to anchor him, and without Tyra or Lyla or neighbor lady, he's toast. I've seen particular complaints about Tim's backsliding, but given his character, it makes a lot of sense to me.
Lyla Garrity, born again? Not such an angel, though -- I cracked up at her scene with Tim ("Enjoy your depravity!") and the "blessing" she said for grace, archly telling off her mother's would-be boyfriend and her mom for wearing "skinny jeans." She's every bit as much of a control freak as ever, only now she has Jesus on her side, Lord help us all. And Lyla's parents are obviously still mired in their breakup, with Buddy still sleeping at the dealership, and snooping around his kids' afterschool activities.
Poor Buddy, his life completely sucks: the new coach won't even let him watch practices. Of course we're meant to detest the new coach, who in real life would swearing a blue streak at his boys, but since this is not HBO, has to make do with the lamest swear-free rants I've yet to hear. Jason Street, looking fit and enjoying his coaching job, can see where New Coach is going to have problems that Eric Taylor never did. I kind of like that New Coach is a hardass, but the problem is, he's a hardass even when he doesn't need to be, and it was over-the-top to accuse Jason of being a mascot.
We can easily read into this situation how things will go, eventually: Dillon hates the New Coach, Coach Taylor hates being so far away from his family, New Coach is let go for some pretext, Taylor is brought back in. How many episodes will this take? I know a lot of fans want Coach Taylor back in Dillon asap, and wish he were already there, but I'm not one of them.
Here's what I'm hoping: Coach Taylor sticks with his team at TMU for the entire season there, and somehow manages the bouncing back and forth between Austin and Dillon. Anything less than that, the writers better have something mock-proof to justify him leaving any sooner. In the real world, that's the way things work. He'd have to stick it out at least a year before he could leave with any credibility or hope of getting a job anywhere else.
As for the murder plot, I have no idea where they're going with that, and I'm scared for both Tyra and Landry. They are two likable characters and I want them to succeed, but again, in real life, sometimes good people get screwed over, and sometimes good people are screwed over by their own very bad decisions. People are freaking out about this scenario because they love Tyra and Landry, and I understand that, but this show is not afraid to show that even good people make mistakes, and good people often fail.
I've read complaints that the murder took viewers out the story, and made the show less real, more tv-drama. These complaints have validity, but since the murder and its aftermath took up so little of the premiere episode, and we don't really know what happened, we're just going to have to wait and see how the writers handle this. I've seen them write themselves out of some jams before, particularly Smash's steroid use and that whole business with the ineligible Voodoo. So I'm not quitting, because I think it's possible to deal with this storyline in an honest and affecting way.
I have faith, and hope -- what can I say? This team gave me a full season's worth of mostly good stuff. The 80% of this show that is fantastic is among the best there is, and even the 20% that's stupid is better than most. Go Panthers!
Torchwood 1.5: Small World
"Small Worlds" presents an undeniably affecting story. The problem is, it has practically nothing to do with Torchwood.I didn't get into this in the review over at The House Next Door, but this episode about killed me. DD is eight years old and obsessed with fairies. Given her elfin features, I've occasionally asked her if she's not a changeling. The idea that any human child could become the elementals of "Small World" is the kind of horror story that doesn't need blood, guts, or special effects.
Click on over and read the rest.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Are you watching Friday Night Lights? Why not?
Friday Night Lights, NBC's exceptional exploration of life in the football-obsessed small town of Dillon, TX, debuted last year to critical acclaim and mediocre ratings. It barely managed to survive its first year of schedule changes and emerged still much beloved by its tiny fan base, but seemingly rooted in the ratings cellar. I bet I know why you're not watching, and I hope I can convince you to at least give it a shot. Head over to The House Next Door for my responses to the top ten reasons you're not watching FNL.
do I need a job?
I realized that if I go too long without getting called in to work, I start to feel disconnected and useless, regardless of whatever else may be going on.
Today I worked for most of the school day, as the teacher I was subbing for had to be out in the morning and wasn't sure whether or not she would make it back for the rest of the day. By the time 1PM rolled around, I figured she wouldn't bother coming in, but then she showed up and so I left, feeling very much at loose ends. I wasn't psychologically ready to go, I hadn't finished the day. I admit it, I was a little sad at having to leave!
Yesterday I started thinking again about going back to school and getting my teacher's certification and all that. DS1 will be starting high school (!) in three years (!!) and I'm thinking if I could work in a decent private high school, maybe we'd get a break on tuition. But the idea of teaching full time still scares me, even though more and more when I sub, I feel frustrated with classroom situations that I would handle so much differently, but I can't do anything because I'm just the sub. I think how it would be (so much more work!) to have my own classroom and my own classes. I'm sure I could do it (barring recurrence or any other medical crisis.)
Every time I get on this path I start waffling: what about the writing? Haven't been earning much at all lately, but have done some good stuff and hope to parlay that into something, eventually. I want to get back to the food writing, and should work on putting my columns together into a book... there's a lot of work that should be done there, but so far I am utterly lacking in the discipline to do it.
Two columns can earn me what I make for a day's teaching... and often take less time, and are more convenient. Plus, the writer's life is an infinitely flexible one, whereas the teaching life ties you to the academic calendar. Getting a teaching certificate is going to cost some not-insignificant amount of money; continuing to write is pretty much free, except for time, but of course getting certified would require a huge time investment also. Teaching is fun and fulfilling and keeps me in contact with people in the world at large; writing is fun and fulfilling and isolating, at least the kind of writing I have been doing.
I don't know how to make this decision: go back to school, get certified, teach -- or stay home, sub whenever, and write? I think I will keep doing what I'm doing and see what shakes out.
Today I worked for most of the school day, as the teacher I was subbing for had to be out in the morning and wasn't sure whether or not she would make it back for the rest of the day. By the time 1PM rolled around, I figured she wouldn't bother coming in, but then she showed up and so I left, feeling very much at loose ends. I wasn't psychologically ready to go, I hadn't finished the day. I admit it, I was a little sad at having to leave!
Yesterday I started thinking again about going back to school and getting my teacher's certification and all that. DS1 will be starting high school (!) in three years (!!) and I'm thinking if I could work in a decent private high school, maybe we'd get a break on tuition. But the idea of teaching full time still scares me, even though more and more when I sub, I feel frustrated with classroom situations that I would handle so much differently, but I can't do anything because I'm just the sub. I think how it would be (so much more work!) to have my own classroom and my own classes. I'm sure I could do it (barring recurrence or any other medical crisis.)
Every time I get on this path I start waffling: what about the writing? Haven't been earning much at all lately, but have done some good stuff and hope to parlay that into something, eventually. I want to get back to the food writing, and should work on putting my columns together into a book... there's a lot of work that should be done there, but so far I am utterly lacking in the discipline to do it.
Two columns can earn me what I make for a day's teaching... and often take less time, and are more convenient. Plus, the writer's life is an infinitely flexible one, whereas the teaching life ties you to the academic calendar. Getting a teaching certificate is going to cost some not-insignificant amount of money; continuing to write is pretty much free, except for time, but of course getting certified would require a huge time investment also. Teaching is fun and fulfilling and keeps me in contact with people in the world at large; writing is fun and fulfilling and isolating, at least the kind of writing I have been doing.
I don't know how to make this decision: go back to school, get certified, teach -- or stay home, sub whenever, and write? I think I will keep doing what I'm doing and see what shakes out.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
by rights
Sometimes, Life appears to be little more than an accumulation of insults, many small incidents piling up, one after another, resulting in general malaise.
And sometimes, the incidents are not so small; today I'm feeling the brunt of them all, and the tiny things have much more force than they should. The not-small events: someone died, not close to me, but close to someone I am close to; the continuing saga of the floor, along with the unfinished house; DS1's trip to the neurologist, where terms like limb girdle weakness were mentioned.
We doubt that DS1 has LGMD -- for one thing, he always improves with practice, and LGMD is a progressive disease -- but at this point we don't doubt that there is something going on. Then comes the second-guessing and wondering why we didn't do anything about this earlier, but also the recognition that DS1's capabilities qualify as "normal," which represents a range, after all. He has been evaluated by three different pediatricians and not one ever recommended him to an orthopedist or a neurologist; that was all my idea after hearing about a friend's experience with her son. But DS1 is not like her son, who just needed orthotics for his completely flat feet. When DS1 is thinking about what he's doing, he can do just about anything, and do it well. When he's not thinking, he can barely get himself out of a chair. It's as if he needs his conscious brain to control his muscles properly.
Part of the meeting with the neurologist today was taking a detailed family history, and I denied having any muscular or skeletal problems other than the RA and the fibromyalgia, and oh yes that business with my hip and my piriformis and my tailbone, and back in 2003, the uterine prolapse. So you do have muscles problems, the neuro said.
I never thought of it that way. In fact I never associated any of these things with the others; when you string them all together, suddenly they're a cluster of symptoms. The neuro wonders if I in fact do have fibromyalgia, or if I have some muscle/neuro thing going on. I've been rejecting the very idea of "find the one thing that's wrong with me and fix it" for so long that I have to try very hard not to scoff at the idea that I really may have something wrong that led to all these other issues.
And of course I have to face up to the possibility that my son has inherited his condition from me (DH may be partly responsible, too, but since he has zero health problems and his family, likewise, I think I know where to point the finger.)
So there's that, and the fact that I'm feeling stupid about my writing again. What am I doing and why am I doing it are two questions I can't answer well, right now, and that makes everything seem like a struggle.
I think it's reasonable for me to feel 1) disturbed and 2) sad about all these things going on. I try to be careful about distinguishing justifiable sadness from depression -- so far I'm not having trouble getting out of bed or getting stuff done, I just feel sad.
Like Nina today, I wonder: why am I not a duck?
And sometimes, the incidents are not so small; today I'm feeling the brunt of them all, and the tiny things have much more force than they should. The not-small events: someone died, not close to me, but close to someone I am close to; the continuing saga of the floor, along with the unfinished house; DS1's trip to the neurologist, where terms like limb girdle weakness were mentioned.
We doubt that DS1 has LGMD -- for one thing, he always improves with practice, and LGMD is a progressive disease -- but at this point we don't doubt that there is something going on. Then comes the second-guessing and wondering why we didn't do anything about this earlier, but also the recognition that DS1's capabilities qualify as "normal," which represents a range, after all. He has been evaluated by three different pediatricians and not one ever recommended him to an orthopedist or a neurologist; that was all my idea after hearing about a friend's experience with her son. But DS1 is not like her son, who just needed orthotics for his completely flat feet. When DS1 is thinking about what he's doing, he can do just about anything, and do it well. When he's not thinking, he can barely get himself out of a chair. It's as if he needs his conscious brain to control his muscles properly.
Part of the meeting with the neurologist today was taking a detailed family history, and I denied having any muscular or skeletal problems other than the RA and the fibromyalgia, and oh yes that business with my hip and my piriformis and my tailbone, and back in 2003, the uterine prolapse. So you do have muscles problems, the neuro said.
I never thought of it that way. In fact I never associated any of these things with the others; when you string them all together, suddenly they're a cluster of symptoms. The neuro wonders if I in fact do have fibromyalgia, or if I have some muscle/neuro thing going on. I've been rejecting the very idea of "find the one thing that's wrong with me and fix it" for so long that I have to try very hard not to scoff at the idea that I really may have something wrong that led to all these other issues.
And of course I have to face up to the possibility that my son has inherited his condition from me (DH may be partly responsible, too, but since he has zero health problems and his family, likewise, I think I know where to point the finger.)
So there's that, and the fact that I'm feeling stupid about my writing again. What am I doing and why am I doing it are two questions I can't answer well, right now, and that makes everything seem like a struggle.
I think it's reasonable for me to feel 1) disturbed and 2) sad about all these things going on. I try to be careful about distinguishing justifiable sadness from depression -- so far I'm not having trouble getting out of bed or getting stuff done, I just feel sad.
Like Nina today, I wonder: why am I not a duck?
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Torchwood 1.4: Cyberwoman
Torchwood dips into its Doctor Who back story ("Army of Ghosts", "Doomsday") in this sorry mess involving Cybermen, bathetic love, a pterodactyl, and a hapless pizza delivery girl. Redeeming qualities are few, but we can always hold out hope that the pterodactyl was mortally wounded and won't return.Read the rest at The House Next Door.
where did that week go?
Incredibly busy week, with teaching, writing, too many phone calls, a support group meeting, doctor appointments, and much attention paid to the floor situation. None of it was boring at the time, but now writing about it all seems deathly.
Onward!
Onward!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Torchwood 1.3: Ghost Machine
Best episode yet.
So far, Torchwood has dished up the pilot episode (Everything Changes) and the fish-out-of-water episode (Day One). Now, with "Ghost Machine," the first "regular" episode, it gets down to the brass tacks of what happens when humans interact with alien technology. "Give me the aliens any day," doesn't just sum up this episode; it may be the theme of the entire season.
Read the rest over at The House Next Door.
So far, Torchwood has dished up the pilot episode (Everything Changes) and the fish-out-of-water episode (Day One). Now, with "Ghost Machine," the first "regular" episode, it gets down to the brass tacks of what happens when humans interact with alien technology. "Give me the aliens any day," doesn't just sum up this episode; it may be the theme of the entire season.
Read the rest over at The House Next Door.
Friday, September 21, 2007
slowest game of tag, ever
Reading Virginia Postrel's Dynamist blog today, I recalled that Ross had tagged me some time over the summer with the same meme that Virginia blogged about, the Eight Random Things meme.
Before I get to that, I want to wish Virginia well as she begins her treatment for breast cancer. Damn cancer. I hate it.
Like Virginia, I refuse to tag anyone else, since I don't think I could name eight people who fit the criteria of 1) knowing who I am and 2) being likely to play along. Now, eight random facts about me:
1. I'm left-handed. Two of my six siblings are left-handed, and two of my three children are left-handed.
2. My undergraduate degree is in behavioral science in management.
3. Related to 2, I'm an alumna of a fraternity.
4. I'm on my fourth set of front teeth.
5. The last remaining vestige of my Boston accent: I cannot pronounce an "ing" ending on a verb as anything other than "in" (f.ex., goin', walkin') without feeling as if I am over-enunciating and thus sound stupid.
6. I eat at least one square of dark bittersweet chocolate a day. This has absolutely nothing to do with the anti-oxidant properties this chocolate is reported to have.
7. I briefly dated a Deadhead,and once fell asleep during the extended drum solo ("drums in space") at a Dead concert.
8. I weigh more than it says on my driver's license. Not a lot, but some.
Before I get to that, I want to wish Virginia well as she begins her treatment for breast cancer. Damn cancer. I hate it.
Like Virginia, I refuse to tag anyone else, since I don't think I could name eight people who fit the criteria of 1) knowing who I am and 2) being likely to play along. Now, eight random facts about me:
1. I'm left-handed. Two of my six siblings are left-handed, and two of my three children are left-handed.
2. My undergraduate degree is in behavioral science in management.
3. Related to 2, I'm an alumna of a fraternity.
4. I'm on my fourth set of front teeth.
5. The last remaining vestige of my Boston accent: I cannot pronounce an "ing" ending on a verb as anything other than "in" (f.ex., goin', walkin') without feeling as if I am over-enunciating and thus sound stupid.
6. I eat at least one square of dark bittersweet chocolate a day. This has absolutely nothing to do with the anti-oxidant properties this chocolate is reported to have.
7. I briefly dated a Deadhead,and once fell asleep during the extended drum solo ("drums in space") at a Dead concert.
8. I weigh more than it says on my driver's license. Not a lot, but some.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
nothing is easy (about those floors...)
My computer is still in the breakfast nook, and likely to stay there for some time; we're having problems with the new flooring.
DH noticed a "bubble" on one board a week or so ago, where the corners of two boards meet, and one of them was pushed up and deformed. You can only see it if the light hits it exactly right, but it's definitely there.
So, having seen that, we re-examined the floors and noticed that there are many places where the seams are not level. The planks are fitted together correctly, but the laminate surfaces are not meeting up exactly. It's weird.
We had the installer and two supervisors from Lowe's out yesterday to check it out; they did that annoying thing where they speak Spanish so you won't know what they're saying. DH, however, knows enough Spanish to recognize It's all bad when he hears it.
The manufacturer's rep is coming to inspect it tomorrow morning; Lowe's is saying it's a manufacturing defect.
I'm not so sure about that. Compare and contrast this note from the installation instructions (my emphasis)
Delivery was on Friday, installation started on Monday, so there's your 48 hours, easily; but no one ever said a word about laying out boxes individually, away from hot walls (that is a hot wall), and in the rooms in which they would be installed. Not a peep.
Whoever owns up to the error is going to have to re-do the entire floor -- or make a very compelling argument as to why not. Onesy-twosy replacement isn't sufficient because there's nothing to prevent the remaining planks from popping later.
We'll see what the independent inspector has to say. So far, Lowe's has had a great attitude about this; when I called them, they were over here within the hour to look at the floors. They called constantly during the process to make sure we were satisfied with the materials and the contractors (we were). But that was when they already had our money, and weren't looking at having to re-do a pretty big job out of their own pockets. It wouldn't surprise me if their attitude changes.
Stay tuned.
DH noticed a "bubble" on one board a week or so ago, where the corners of two boards meet, and one of them was pushed up and deformed. You can only see it if the light hits it exactly right, but it's definitely there.
So, having seen that, we re-examined the floors and noticed that there are many places where the seams are not level. The planks are fitted together correctly, but the laminate surfaces are not meeting up exactly. It's weird.
We had the installer and two supervisors from Lowe's out yesterday to check it out; they did that annoying thing where they speak Spanish so you won't know what they're saying. DH, however, knows enough Spanish to recognize It's all bad when he hears it.
The manufacturer's rep is coming to inspect it tomorrow morning; Lowe's is saying it's a manufacturing defect.
I'm not so sure about that. Compare and contrast this note from the installation instructions (my emphasis)
IMPORTANT Do not open immediately! Before opening the packaging, acclimatize planks for 48 hours by laying each box horizontally and individually in the center of the room, in which they are to be installed.... with how the materials were delivered.
Delivery was on Friday, installation started on Monday, so there's your 48 hours, easily; but no one ever said a word about laying out boxes individually, away from hot walls (that is a hot wall), and in the rooms in which they would be installed. Not a peep.
Whoever owns up to the error is going to have to re-do the entire floor -- or make a very compelling argument as to why not. Onesy-twosy replacement isn't sufficient because there's nothing to prevent the remaining planks from popping later.
We'll see what the independent inspector has to say. So far, Lowe's has had a great attitude about this; when I called them, they were over here within the hour to look at the floors. They called constantly during the process to make sure we were satisfied with the materials and the contractors (we were). But that was when they already had our money, and weren't looking at having to re-do a pretty big job out of their own pockets. It wouldn't surprise me if their attitude changes.
Stay tuned.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
yesitis
Surely an infinite number of women's magazine articles have warned against saying "yes" to every request, and I usually don't. But sometimes the question takes me by surprise, and I find myself saying "yes" much against my better judgment. Then I'm left hoping for the best.
Case in point, today at the kids/family circuit class at the Y. DS1 and I do this two days during the week, and I go on Saturdays while the kids are at tennis. I adore this class, but that's not the point. Our regular instructor has to be away for a few weeks and asked me if I could help out with the class in case they have any scheduling difficulties while she's out.
I said yes without knowing exactly what I was agreeing to, which is the very definition of stupid. I think there would be an official Y person around, but not necessarily someone who was familiar with the circuit class or the circuit stations. At any rate, I'm pretty sure that I'm just a backup, an in case of emergency kind of resource.
Besides, I rationalize to myself, I'll be going to those classes anyway.
Rationalization? A clear sign of a more advanced case of yesitis.
The cure -- well, no real cure, just preventative measures, like learning to say "Let me think about it," before giving an answer. Also, "Let me check my schedule and get back to you," has been known to work really well. I'm fond of, "I'm sorry, I'm already committed for that time," because it's never a lie. If you're going to stay home and watch TV, that's a commitment to yourself, and there's nothing wrong with that.
The key is to be polite but vague when asked, which buys you the time to decide, really and truly, whether this new responsibility is something you want to take on. Then if you say "yes" it will be because you want to do it, not because someone roped you in at an inopportune moment.
Case in point, today at the kids/family circuit class at the Y. DS1 and I do this two days during the week, and I go on Saturdays while the kids are at tennis. I adore this class, but that's not the point. Our regular instructor has to be away for a few weeks and asked me if I could help out with the class in case they have any scheduling difficulties while she's out.
I said yes without knowing exactly what I was agreeing to, which is the very definition of stupid. I think there would be an official Y person around, but not necessarily someone who was familiar with the circuit class or the circuit stations. At any rate, I'm pretty sure that I'm just a backup, an in case of emergency kind of resource.
Besides, I rationalize to myself, I'll be going to those classes anyway.
Rationalization? A clear sign of a more advanced case of yesitis.
The cure -- well, no real cure, just preventative measures, like learning to say "Let me think about it," before giving an answer. Also, "Let me check my schedule and get back to you," has been known to work really well. I'm fond of, "I'm sorry, I'm already committed for that time," because it's never a lie. If you're going to stay home and watch TV, that's a commitment to yourself, and there's nothing wrong with that.
The key is to be polite but vague when asked, which buys you the time to decide, really and truly, whether this new responsibility is something you want to take on. Then if you say "yes" it will be because you want to do it, not because someone roped you in at an inopportune moment.
some guilt is forever
It doesn't matter whether or not DS1's muscular/skeletal issues have anything to do with the fact that he was allowed to be nearly completely sedentary for a few years while I was having surgery after surgery followed by cancer, more surgery, and radiation treatments. And more surgery.
It's entirely likely that some of what's going may be a neurological problem, since his core strength never seems to improve.
It's also true that his problems are not debilitating, and most likely are non-progressive since we've actually seen improvements over the past few years.
Having said all that, after spending the morning at the orthopedist and then a big chunk of the afternoon scheduling with the neurologist and the physical therapist, I can't get past the feeling that none of this would be happening now if I had just been paying more attention earlier.
It's entirely likely that some of what's going may be a neurological problem, since his core strength never seems to improve.
It's also true that his problems are not debilitating, and most likely are non-progressive since we've actually seen improvements over the past few years.
Having said all that, after spending the morning at the orthopedist and then a big chunk of the afternoon scheduling with the neurologist and the physical therapist, I can't get past the feeling that none of this would be happening now if I had just been paying more attention earlier.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
I love my job(s) (mostly)
I got a hug today from the teacher I subbed for on Friday, and the exclamation, "My kids loved you! Thank you so much!"
Torchwood's reviews are killing me, and I can't figure out why -- I keep starting out recapping and then ditch most of that and find I've only written about two thirds of the review I wanted to write. It's pathetic, and had better improve with practice. I'm starting earlier on this week's episode, I can't stand another weekend like this last one.
Haven't written a recipe or food column in months now, and have guilt about that... but I have just about finished the reconstruction of my ingredients database, which was lost when our computers were stolen in the spring. It never occurred to me to back it up; what can I say? It was stupid. I have a few things simmering on the backburner, so to speak, and they'll get written eventually.
RE (Religious Education) tonight, our first class, went well, I thought, only to have one student saunter up to me as we were queued up at dismissal to announce, in perfect, accent-free English, My Mom wanted me to have a Spanish class for this, because I'm just not getting it. I told the kid I'd speak to the office about it, but frankly I'm mystified. There wasn't much to "not get" in tonight's class, since I spent most of it giving a course outline of the things we're going to cover. Mostly I think the kid does not want to work! We'll see. The rest of the group seems OK. I hope I can keep them coming back until spring when they can be Confirmed. Oh, and my aide is fantastic, she has a really great attitude.
Last but not least, ThyCa has been rather dormant lately, after a brief flurry a few weeks ago when my co-facilitator was out of town. The news on that front is several members of our group are to be interviewed about our experiences for a new women's health website, so that will be interesting.
Of course none of all that would be possible if the big 24/7 job (that would be parenting) wasn't going so well. We've settled into the semblance of a routine, the house is slowing being put back together, and the kids have all stepped up their responsibility in doing homework and their minimal chores (mainly, delivering their laundry to their hampers each day.) It's astonishing, actually.
If anyone had said to me three years ago that I'd be doing all this now, I would've laughed and said he was crazy. It's hard to imagine life with all your kids in school when you've still got little ones at home all day, every day, and especially difficult when you're dealing with a cascade of increasingly serious medical problems. But now I'm well, and I've got time, so I'm finally getting to take advantage of it.
Life's not perfect, nor is it fair, but I wouldn't change it.
Torchwood's reviews are killing me, and I can't figure out why -- I keep starting out recapping and then ditch most of that and find I've only written about two thirds of the review I wanted to write. It's pathetic, and had better improve with practice. I'm starting earlier on this week's episode, I can't stand another weekend like this last one.
Haven't written a recipe or food column in months now, and have guilt about that... but I have just about finished the reconstruction of my ingredients database, which was lost when our computers were stolen in the spring. It never occurred to me to back it up; what can I say? It was stupid. I have a few things simmering on the backburner, so to speak, and they'll get written eventually.
RE (Religious Education) tonight, our first class, went well, I thought, only to have one student saunter up to me as we were queued up at dismissal to announce, in perfect, accent-free English, My Mom wanted me to have a Spanish class for this, because I'm just not getting it. I told the kid I'd speak to the office about it, but frankly I'm mystified. There wasn't much to "not get" in tonight's class, since I spent most of it giving a course outline of the things we're going to cover. Mostly I think the kid does not want to work! We'll see. The rest of the group seems OK. I hope I can keep them coming back until spring when they can be Confirmed. Oh, and my aide is fantastic, she has a really great attitude.
Last but not least, ThyCa has been rather dormant lately, after a brief flurry a few weeks ago when my co-facilitator was out of town. The news on that front is several members of our group are to be interviewed about our experiences for a new women's health website, so that will be interesting.
Of course none of all that would be possible if the big 24/7 job (that would be parenting) wasn't going so well. We've settled into the semblance of a routine, the house is slowing being put back together, and the kids have all stepped up their responsibility in doing homework and their minimal chores (mainly, delivering their laundry to their hampers each day.) It's astonishing, actually.
If anyone had said to me three years ago that I'd be doing all this now, I would've laughed and said he was crazy. It's hard to imagine life with all your kids in school when you've still got little ones at home all day, every day, and especially difficult when you're dealing with a cascade of increasingly serious medical problems. But now I'm well, and I've got time, so I'm finally getting to take advantage of it.
Life's not perfect, nor is it fair, but I wouldn't change it.
Torchwood 1.2: Day One
Finally, we have independent confirmation that human sexual relations are indeed the best thing in the universe -- at least, if we're to believe this episode of Torchwood.Read the rest at The House Next Door.
Monday, September 17, 2007
further note
It has been about two weeks since I switched back to my old combination T4/T3 medication routine. I'm amazed at how much more energy I have, both physically and mentally, and how much improved my mood is.
I had thought my minor depression in August was just the usual end-of-vacation blues, lingering a bit longer than is typical. Now I'm guessing that my low T3 levels (as measured in my pre- and post-Thyrogen labs) were contributing as well.
I gave it a good shot, but now I'm calling that experiment a failure. It turns out I over-estimated how much I was spending on the drug anyway. Since I'm taking only the teeniest smidge (5 mcg) of Cytomel per day now, it's only running me around $50 for three months' supply. That's not so bad, especially considering the beneficial effects.
I'll note that regular exercise and getting to bed at a decent hour also have helped tremendously these past few weeks, in spite of all the disruptions in the house.
I had thought my minor depression in August was just the usual end-of-vacation blues, lingering a bit longer than is typical. Now I'm guessing that my low T3 levels (as measured in my pre- and post-Thyrogen labs) were contributing as well.
I gave it a good shot, but now I'm calling that experiment a failure. It turns out I over-estimated how much I was spending on the drug anyway. Since I'm taking only the teeniest smidge (5 mcg) of Cytomel per day now, it's only running me around $50 for three months' supply. That's not so bad, especially considering the beneficial effects.
I'll note that regular exercise and getting to bed at a decent hour also have helped tremendously these past few weeks, in spite of all the disruptions in the house.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
quick, quick...
Subbed Friday in kindergarten, the kind of day that is a gift. It's not that the kids were perfect and everything went smoothly -- no, just that I was able to manage all the mishaps. Felt wonderful, and exhausted, by the end of the day. Is it so terrible that I have an absolute favorite teacher, and I love subbing for her, just because of the atmosphere she creates in her classroom? Every time I sub for her, I learn something new about teaching and about my own capabilities.
Saturday, whirl-wind day, trying to get my Torchwood review done amidst a bunch of other stuff. I think I wrote the damned thing over four times, trying to get it to a manageable size while retaining the points I wanted to make. Mostly, it was too much recap, and I need to remember that I don't need to tell the story. I do wish I could have those re-writing hours back, though.
Sunday started with cooking then segued to more re-writing, finally sent off the draft for approval, and then switched to moving furniture (finally) and cooking again, followed by more furniture moving, and culminating in folding four loads of laundry while watching episodes from season 3 of Deadwood. I don't regret not watching it when it was still being produced; I couldn't get past the profanity at the time, and watching it one episode per week would make it difficult to get as invested in the characters as I have become. It's brilliant, and surprising, and now that I think about it, I'm going to be very sad to see the remaining episodes and know that there won't be anymore.
Tomorrow, I can't work as I have an appointment, which is good because I can spend the rest of the day cobbling together a lesson plan for my R.E. (Religious Education) class - fourth, fifth, and sixth graders who will be Confirmed this spring. Classes begin tomorrow at 5PM, so I've got plenty of time.
Saturday, whirl-wind day, trying to get my Torchwood review done amidst a bunch of other stuff. I think I wrote the damned thing over four times, trying to get it to a manageable size while retaining the points I wanted to make. Mostly, it was too much recap, and I need to remember that I don't need to tell the story. I do wish I could have those re-writing hours back, though.
Sunday started with cooking then segued to more re-writing, finally sent off the draft for approval, and then switched to moving furniture (finally) and cooking again, followed by more furniture moving, and culminating in folding four loads of laundry while watching episodes from season 3 of Deadwood. I don't regret not watching it when it was still being produced; I couldn't get past the profanity at the time, and watching it one episode per week would make it difficult to get as invested in the characters as I have become. It's brilliant, and surprising, and now that I think about it, I'm going to be very sad to see the remaining episodes and know that there won't be anymore.
Tomorrow, I can't work as I have an appointment, which is good because I can spend the rest of the day cobbling together a lesson plan for my R.E. (Religious Education) class - fourth, fifth, and sixth graders who will be Confirmed this spring. Classes begin tomorrow at 5PM, so I've got plenty of time.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
5-K-5-K
Tuesday, subbed in fifth grade, a bit of a rough day but better than the last time I was in there, as I was draconian with the table points, and that helped keep the kids in line. I like much better to give them out when they complete a task efficiently and quietly -- of course I do both, but the take-aways seem to have a much bigger impact.
Wednesday, subbed in kindergarten, and that was a good day right up until dismissal, when I was forcibly reminded of how young beginning-of-the-school-year kindergarteners are. Some get picked up by a parent, some wait for an older brother or sister, some go to aftercare... but as a class, they didn't have the presence to separate themselves into the two main groups (the pick-ups vs the stay-heres), so things were chaotic but we managed.
Today, Thursday, back to fifth grade, that same class, and a terrific morning followed by a rough afternoon. Must've been something in the lunch, because the after-lunch study hall period was a zoo, and everything after that was a struggle; fortunately, their last class of the day is P.E., so I didn't have to shepherd them all the way through dismissal.
Tomorrow, Friday: kindergarten, again. I'm glad I've already done K once to remind me of the extra time that the little ones need to do certain things, and to adjust my expectations of them -- September kindergarteners are a lot younger than May or June kindergarteners. So much growth and change happens in this year, it's amazing, and I have to remember that these kids aren't there yet.
I'm tired today but not wiped out -- I think I'm finally building up some stamina.
The painting is finished and looks gorgeous, but the house is still in near-complete disarray, since I've been working every day, and thus not available for furniture arranging. We'll spend the week-end getting the place to feel like home again.
Wednesday, subbed in kindergarten, and that was a good day right up until dismissal, when I was forcibly reminded of how young beginning-of-the-school-year kindergarteners are. Some get picked up by a parent, some wait for an older brother or sister, some go to aftercare... but as a class, they didn't have the presence to separate themselves into the two main groups (the pick-ups vs the stay-heres), so things were chaotic but we managed.
Today, Thursday, back to fifth grade, that same class, and a terrific morning followed by a rough afternoon. Must've been something in the lunch, because the after-lunch study hall period was a zoo, and everything after that was a struggle; fortunately, their last class of the day is P.E., so I didn't have to shepherd them all the way through dismissal.
Tomorrow, Friday: kindergarten, again. I'm glad I've already done K once to remind me of the extra time that the little ones need to do certain things, and to adjust my expectations of them -- September kindergarteners are a lot younger than May or June kindergarteners. So much growth and change happens in this year, it's amazing, and I have to remember that these kids aren't there yet.
I'm tired today but not wiped out -- I think I'm finally building up some stamina.
The painting is finished and looks gorgeous, but the house is still in near-complete disarray, since I've been working every day, and thus not available for furniture arranging. We'll spend the week-end getting the place to feel like home again.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Blogger experiments
I'm tinkering with the template so that long posts don't monopolize main page. It's mostly working now, but the "click to keep reading" bit is now showing up on every post. I'm sure there's something I can do about that, I just have to figure it out... later. I've ignored or pushed back a lot of mom-stuff lately in favor of writing, but my schedule today is full of non-negotiables.
Back later.
Later: Got it -- part of the problem is I'm still using my Classic Template even though this is New Blogger. The idea of ditching my template and starting all over with a new layout is too daunting to contemplate now. Here's the Blogger Help page that got me started on this process, and here's the Helpful Resources for New Bloggers page that told me how to get the "read more..." link to show up only where I want it to, otherwise known as "selective post summaries."
Back later.
Later: Got it -- part of the problem is I'm still using my Classic Template even though this is New Blogger. The idea of ditching my template and starting all over with a new layout is too daunting to contemplate now. Here's the Blogger Help page that got me started on this process, and here's the Helpful Resources for New Bloggers page that told me how to get the "read more..." link to show up only where I want it to, otherwise known as "selective post summaries."
Sunday, September 09, 2007
2007's 3:10 to Yuma: where's my Western?
(spoilers aplenty)
"Harsh" doesn't begin to describe the summers here. Even with ubiquitous air conditioning, the heat just beats you down. It starts up in April and doesn't quit until November, relentless and inexhaustible.
If Westerns are evocative of science fiction, it's because the climate here is so radically different from where most people live that it could just as well be another planet. These alien landscapes have witnessed such dramatic history that places, names, and events have entered the vernacular, even though few people know anything about them. But just ask anyone what happened in Tombstone, Arizona, and you'd hear, "The gunfight at the OK Corral." But who knows what really happened there? Does anyone care about the actual history, when the stripped-down narrative of the shootout is so compelling, even void of context?
All Westerns -- whether they're made in America, Italy, Japan, or Australia -- have a few key things in common. These include a punishing environment, a sense of isolation or separation from civilization, and a redemptive arc. Every Western subordinates its man-versus-nature theme to its man-versus-man themes, but it can never eliminate it; the actors can't escape the environment. There's always at least one bad guy, and there's always a guy or guys trying to make good (which is not the same thing as a good guy.) Newer post-modern Westerns (best example: Unforgiven) give us conflicted heroes, who have been or may still be bad guys; but the black hat/white hat dichotomy didn't always hold true in vintage Westerns, either.
Which brings us to Delmer Daves' 1957 3:10 to Yuma, a spare, tightly-scripted Western mostly notable for the stunt-casting of Glenn Ford against type as the amoral, sweet-talking, murderous Ben Wade. Van Heflin co-stars as struggling rancher Dan Evans, beat down by years of drought and the tough luck of having no water running through his land. In case you've missed all of the plot synopses floating around these days, the story is: Evans and his boys witness a stage coach robbery and murder by Wade's gang. A quirk of fate helps Evans capture Wade in Bisbee, a one-street town just north of the border, when he's careless about staying overlong in bed with the barmaid. Evans needs cash to buy access to the neighboring ranch's water, and so he volunteers to get Wade from Bisbee to Contention (about 37 miles) where he can be put on the train to Yuma for trial and sentencing.There are holes in this plot big enough to drive a locomotive through, the biggest one being why Ben Wade would ever get out of Bisbee alive, given his rap sheet. The threat of retaliation by his gang is enough to put the townspeople in fear, though, and they figure the best way to save their own skins is to hustle Wade out of there, and make him someone else's problem.
The journey starts at Evans' ranch, continues on horseback through scrub country, and ends in the bridal suite of Contention's only hotel. Throughout, Wade is shown to be a quick-witted flatterer with no morals at all. He flirts with Evans' wife, needles the man himself, and sucks up to his kids. Later he tries to bribe Evans when he realizes that Evans won't be scared off. It's very clear that he considers Evans inferior in all respects, even though Evans is the only one who doesn't abandon the mission of putting Wade on the train.
The final scurry to the train is both awkward and tense, and nearly undoes the film. There were at least a dozen shots Evans should've made to take out Wade's men. It makes no sense at all that both men arrive at the train unharmed, and it makes even less sense when Wade jumps onto the train. The only thing that saves this from being a complete debacle is Evans' incredulity: "Why did you do it, Wade? Why did you jump on the train?" Wade explains he has been to Yuma before, and escaped before, so it's not a big deal. And then it rains, which means Evans didn't need to do any of this, because the rains finally came to end the drought, so he didn't really need that money after all.That's the point where I want to throw something at the screen. Evans, as a character, was consistent, sympathetic, and honorable. Wade approximated a lovable rogue but was in reality evil; there is no way I bought that a man who had earlier killed one of his own gang during the stagecoach robbery would jump on the train, rather than tackle Evans and push him under it so he'd be ground to bits.
At the same time, I can fan-wank an explanation: by that point, it didn't cost Wade anything to get on that train, he knew his gang could spring him from Yuma anyway. I'm willing to do this because up until that point, everything held together very well. 1957's 3:10 to Yuma is the essence of a Western, with the pressures of the harsh climate underlying and informing all of the decisions the characters make. The isolation of the main characters, combined with the absence of any effective law-enforcement, and tensions between Evans and Wade are the heart of the movie. I admit that I wished that Evans had earned his success, rather than having Wade hand it to him, but the lesson here is that in a setting like this -- in a Western, that is -- you take redemption wherever you can find it, even if it is at the hands of a murderer.
Now fast-forward fifty years to James Mangold's tarted-up remake. When I first heard about this picture, I was psyched, because here was an opportunity, I thought, to correct the 1957 version's character-betraying ending. Unfortunately, this picture is such a mess that even a terrific performance by Christian Bale can't save it. It's not enough that Bale's Evans be struggling with drought-stricken cattle, as in the original. Here, Evans has to deal with dying cattle, and the imminent repossession of his ranch by a wealthier neighbor who not only orders Evans' barn burned down, but also dammed up the stream on his property that was formerly watering Evans' cattle. As in the original, Evans is a Civil War veteran from a sharp-shooting regiment that fought for the North; but here, he's not just a vet who is great with a gun, he's a vet who had his leg shot off by one of his platoon mates during a retreat. To complete this sorry portrait, Evans couldn't sell off his ranch even if he wanted to, because his kid has tuberculosis and needs to live in a dry climate.At least this Evans still has a pretty wife, but he's also saddled with an obnoxious teenaged son who obviously thinks his father is world-class screw-up.
While Heflin's Evans expressed his need to earn his sons' respect with few words, Bale's Evans never shuts up about it. "Don't you forget, son, that it was your father who walked Ben Wade to the train when everyone else gave up," is the kind of thing that quite obviously does not need to be said... and yet there was Bale, saying it. Nice performance, though.What of Evans' counterpart, Ben Wade, played this time by the charismatic Russell Crowe? As re-written by Welles, Brandt, and Haas, he's still a smooth-talking sonuvabitch, and he's just as ruthless, and he has just as keen an eye for the pretty barmaid. (Interestingly, both films took pains to portray her as a barmaid and not a whore, although it's for certain -- in both films -- that sleeping with men for money was something that she did just as often as tend bar; no respectable woman of that era would've been bedded so easily.) But, just as with Evans, the writers saw fit to embroider Wade's character, making him a compulsive sketch artist with an irritating habit of spouting Bible quotes. (That alone, I'd think, would've been enough to get him killed in a real western saloon.) Not only that, he had a troubled past, having been abandoned by his mother (at a train station! with a Bible!) when just eight years old; but his love for his Mama still burns bright enough for him to use an offhand insult to her as excuse for murder.
So, we've "progressed" from Evans motivated by survival, and at a secondary level, the need for respect in 1957, to Evans-as-Job in 2007. To Mangold & co, it's not enough that it hasn't rained. They've taken the environment out of the equation.
As for the other essential elements, isolation is stripped away, as well, in 2007. These two guys are hardly ever alone, starting out as they do with a posse. The travelogue portion is spiced up with an ambush by Indians who were supposed to have been relocated and a trip through a railroad-laying camp, populated by Chinese who worked as little more than slaves. This West feels like you're never more than five minutes ride away from the next settlement -- although what you'll find there is most likely barbaric.
At least the absence of reliable law enforcement is maintained. I'd give the new guys credit for that, except that they take it too far when Wade's first officer Charlie Prince (Ben Foster, in a widely praised turn that struck me as too much bug-eyed lunatic) offers a $200 cash bribe to anyone in Contention who shoots one of Wade's guards, and apparently dozens of townspeople take him up on it. First of all, with Ben Wade in town under guard and his gang riding in to spring him, who in their right mind would still be out on the street? Secondly, these people have been screwed over by Wade and his gang time and again -- all of them knew at least one person murdered by Wade. Yes, $200 is a lot of money, but is it worth getting killed for? Wade's gang mowed down the sheriff and his deputies as they were attempting to flee -- what makes these townspeople believe they'll live to see the end of this day? In Westerns, people should have a keener sense of self-preservation.Once we've waded through all this extraneous verbiage -- that's the worst of it, that all of these new details are delivered through various speeches or heated exchanges, it doesn't matter, it's all words -- we come down to a final scurry to the train that is just as awkward and tense as in the original -- except it gets worse, because both Evans and Wade betray their charcters here.
In the crucible of an extended gunfight, a lot is possible; there are no atheists in foxholes, etc.
But the idea that Evans and Wade would find a connection that makes them friends, and leads Wade to help Evans when Evans gets shot, makes no sense whatsoever. Wade's a sociopath, and Evans knows that, but by that point Evans is overtly suicidal, and it's up to Wade to pull him through. Evans' "Dying may be the best thing I ever do" attitude is anachronistic at best; it's not as if life insurance was an option back then, and if he dies, then how will his family survive?At this point we should expect the sucker punch that's coming: at what should be Evans' moment of triumph, where you're thinking he'll survive and everything will be OK even though he did take that bullet, the picture bottoms out. Prince strides up and pumps Evans full of lead (Wade shouts, "No!" too late), and then all laws of Space and Time are suspended as Wade, recovering his gun from Prince, proceeds to mow down his now-assembled gang (none of whom shoot back, oddly enough), with particularly nasty attention to Prince. And then he gets on the train and surrenders his weapon and sits down in the cell, The End.
Oh, wait: Evans' older boy witnesses all this and is somehow supposed to come out of this feeling like his father had earned some respect. If the kid had eyes he'd see that Wade inexplicably protected his father, and that Wade put himself on the train, which should make him think, if he had a brain, that his dad had cut some sort of deal with Wade.
We're supposed to believe that 36 hours with Dan Evans was enough to inspire Ben Wade to give up his life of crime, after all that we've seen him do, and all that we've heard about him? No, sorry. In the original, it cost Wade nothing to get on the train; he did it more or less as a joke. Here, Wade sacrifices everyone and everything except his own life to get on the train, even after Evans is dead. There is no possible way to explain this satisfactorily, and the folks who are cooing over the "transcendence" of this resolution are bought much too cheaply. No one earned this ending; you could just as easily explain it by saying that Wade is really a cyborg whose logic chip was spontaneously reprogrammed when he got winged by a bullet.
Perhaps I'm too cynical. 83% of critics are waxing rhapsodic over this picture, and all I can see is a soap opera, and not a very good one at that.
The scenery is gorgeous, and a lot of it sounds right, too, since big chunks of the original dialog have survived. The pacing is for the most part excellent, and the costumes, props, and sets show that no expense was spared. But the story has been so complicated and the characters so distorted that, as much as this seems like a Western, as much as it wants to be a Western, it's simply not a Western. What a waste. For a real Western, you'll have to stick with the small screen.
Torchwood 1.1: Everything Changes
Russell T. Davies’ new Doctor Who spinoff, Torchwood, starts out several steps ahead of the game. Viewers of Doctor Who already know, and presumably love, the main character, and have been hearing about the exploits of the Torchwood Institute since Queen Victoria founded it in the Who episode "Tooth and Claw". But countering that familiarity, you've got significant factors that could weigh the series down. Set in Wales, populated by a cast mostly unfamiliar to American audiences, and featuring some of the most impenetrable English accents ever, Torchwood might not be as amenable to American audiences as it has been to those in the UK.Read the rest at The House Next Door. (Yes, this is what I've been working on.)
Big thanks to Ross for getting me into this!
Saturday, September 08, 2007
it's not like I've been doing nothing...
I've been doing lots. Moving furniture around to accomodate the painters, helping kids with homework, doing the circuit class at the Y, plus the usual shopping and cooking.
Saw 3:10 to Yuma at a matinée show on Friday and am still annoyed; stay tuned for more on that.
Since then, I've been working on something new that should be ready for publication tomorrow. The only thing I'll say right now: I love having an editor.
OK, one other thing: I'm more nervous and excited about this than I have been over anything in a very long time.
Saw 3:10 to Yuma at a matinée show on Friday and am still annoyed; stay tuned for more on that.
Since then, I've been working on something new that should be ready for publication tomorrow. The only thing I'll say right now: I love having an editor.
OK, one other thing: I'm more nervous and excited about this than I have been over anything in a very long time.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
awash (painting, day 3)
The house is feeling practically oceanic now.
The painters tackled the stairwell and upstairs hallway; the blue is quite nearly done.
Probably the biggest factor that convinced us to hire professionals for this job: the 20-plus-foot ceiling heights in the stairwell.
Those two little windows up there just add to the fun. The painter had a humongous ladder perched on the stairs for a good part of the day. Scary stuff.
I lack the patience to compose a better shot of the upstairs hallway. Sorry. This is just one corner of it. In addition to the stairs leading up, there are a total of 5 doors which open from this space, plus a large linen closet. The whole thing is maybe 10X8, so you can see why it's not the easiest thing to shoot.
It's shocking how much darker the blue is; it feels as if the stairwell light is off even when it's on. We'll adjust. I love how the blue changes throughout the day, and I love the cooling effect it gives. We spend so many months sweltering here, it's lovely to be able to escape into a home that evokes cool water.
Well, I'm assuming it will be, once we get everything all re-arranged again.
The painters tackled the stairwell and upstairs hallway; the blue is quite nearly done.
It's shocking how much darker the blue is; it feels as if the stairwell light is off even when it's on. We'll adjust. I love how the blue changes throughout the day, and I love the cooling effect it gives. We spend so many months sweltering here, it's lovely to be able to escape into a home that evokes cool water.
Well, I'm assuming it will be, once we get everything all re-arranged again.
retail therapy
I don't need anything, so why did I go shopping?
Snippets of my reasoning, if you could call it that:
1) to escape paint fumes
2) to see if there was anything worth buying with the frequent shopper bonus money I'd "earned" -- can't let it expire!
3) I'm sick of all my clothes.
Now, isn't this a lovely dress?
It's a nice lightweight jersey, with a lovely drape, but considering that I've become a bit squishy in parts, it's best worn with these.
What else? This sweater in the gorgeous "Baltic" blue; a button-front A-line denim skirt, and a pair of pants, which practically paid for themselves since purchasing any pair gave an instant 20% discount to the entire purchase.
I'm pretty sure I'll wear it all, if it ever cools down sufficiently. Today's high was just shy of 100, which made a noticeable difference. It's too soon to expect those temps to linger, though. Today was an anomalous cloudy day. Temperatures will go back up for at least a month or so. But then I'll be able to wear all this new stuff very comfortably.
Snippets of my reasoning, if you could call it that:
1) to escape paint fumes
2) to see if there was anything worth buying with the frequent shopper bonus money I'd "earned" -- can't let it expire!
3) I'm sick of all my clothes.
Now, isn't this a lovely dress?
It's a nice lightweight jersey, with a lovely drape, but considering that I've become a bit squishy in parts, it's best worn with these.
What else? This sweater in the gorgeous "Baltic" blue; a button-front A-line denim skirt, and a pair of pants, which practically paid for themselves since purchasing any pair gave an instant 20% discount to the entire purchase.
I'm pretty sure I'll wear it all, if it ever cools down sufficiently. Today's high was just shy of 100, which made a noticeable difference. It's too soon to expect those temps to linger, though. Today was an anomalous cloudy day. Temperatures will go back up for at least a month or so. But then I'll be able to wear all this new stuff very comfortably.
"feelin' blue" (painting, day 2)
I'm fine, I'm fine -- that's just the incredibly lame name foisted on this lovely shade of blue by the paint company.
We have blue, lots and lots of blue, with more to come.
It's looking much more gray here than it does in reality, although there is a bit of gray in it. It looks fantastic with the tile.
We have blue, lots and lots of blue, with more to come.
It's looking much more gray here than it does in reality, although there is a bit of gray in it. It looks fantastic with the tile.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
painting, day 1
The paint fumes are really wretched.
I'm hoping tomorrow I won't feel quite as ill, since I'll be working at school most of the day. Today I was here from the time the paint cans opened... not such a great idea.
The only one who really had a good time today was Alice, who somehow managed to get into the paint and track bits of it here and there. Nothing that a wet paper towel wouldn't clean up, but more than enough to convince me that tomorrow the cats are getting put up in the bedroom until the paint is dry.
They painted all the ceilings today, and tomorrow they'll start on the blue.
We're leaving the kitchen for last, since all the furniture is currently residing in there. We had to move the bookcases and the curio cabinet, but since I didn't have to do it myself, it took a minute fraction of the time it took before. Now we have furniture oddly free-standing in the middle of drop-clothed rooms.
If you look closely, you can see the colors we're using.
Eventually, everything will get put back where it belongs, when we figure it out again.
I'm hoping tomorrow I won't feel quite as ill, since I'll be working at school most of the day. Today I was here from the time the paint cans opened... not such a great idea.
The only one who really had a good time today was Alice, who somehow managed to get into the paint and track bits of it here and there. Nothing that a wet paper towel wouldn't clean up, but more than enough to convince me that tomorrow the cats are getting put up in the bedroom until the paint is dry.
They painted all the ceilings today, and tomorrow they'll start on the blue.
We're leaving the kitchen for last, since all the furniture is currently residing in there. We had to move the bookcases and the curio cabinet, but since I didn't have to do it myself, it took a minute fraction of the time it took before. Now we have furniture oddly free-standing in the middle of drop-clothed rooms.
Eventually, everything will get put back where it belongs, when we figure it out again.
here's something different
I discovered scribbit sometime last month while investigating the prevalence of women bloggers. Given that one of my primary topics here at OoS is parenting, you'd think I'd have been more keyed in to the existence of "momblogs"; I had no idea that there was such a huge community. Chalk this one up to failing, yet again, to recognize how niche-filled the blogosphere is.
If you've got an interest, chances are there's a blogging community talking about it.
Scribbit is a fun, diverse blog but one of the things that is driving its success is that Michelle, its owner/author, runs give-aways and contests, weekly and monthly. These are a great way to generate links and traffic, and they provide an opportunity to get exposure for smaller blogs.
This month's Write Away contest's topic is learning. I'd never been inspired to enter a contest before, but for some reason this topic resonated with me, and I knew exactly which post to enter: the person I want to be. So I did. Contest rules request a link back to the contest post (there's that link-generating operation in action), so here it is.
I'm not expecting anything here, but I'm dipping my toe in the waters of momblogging. I've been doing it for years now, outside of the community. Do I want to get into that? I don't know. One of the characteristics of this blog is that it is a jumble of all different kinds of things, personal and analytical, to the point where it sometimes seems schizophrenic even to me. I'm at the point where I don't know where I want this to go, so this little experiment may give me more information to consider in making any decisions.
If you've got an interest, chances are there's a blogging community talking about it.
Scribbit is a fun, diverse blog but one of the things that is driving its success is that Michelle, its owner/author, runs give-aways and contests, weekly and monthly. These are a great way to generate links and traffic, and they provide an opportunity to get exposure for smaller blogs.
This month's Write Away contest's topic is learning. I'd never been inspired to enter a contest before, but for some reason this topic resonated with me, and I knew exactly which post to enter: the person I want to be. So I did. Contest rules request a link back to the contest post (there's that link-generating operation in action), so here it is.
I'm not expecting anything here, but I'm dipping my toe in the waters of momblogging. I've been doing it for years now, outside of the community. Do I want to get into that? I don't know. One of the characteristics of this blog is that it is a jumble of all different kinds of things, personal and analytical, to the point where it sometimes seems schizophrenic even to me. I'm at the point where I don't know where I want this to go, so this little experiment may give me more information to consider in making any decisions.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
tactile memory
Walking barefoot across the family room today, I found myself suddenly trying out ballet moves -- just the simple ones, tendu, relevé . I liked the feeling of my foot sliding across the smooth cool wood.
I was never very good at ballet but I still remember quite a bit of what's supposed to be done, since I studied for several years and didn't give it up altogether until I graduated from college. I never "got it" back then; I didn't work hard enough at it. I was just a dabbler.
It occurred to me that I've had classes in studios that were smaller than my family room. Now I wish I could really dance, and take advantage of all that space.
I was never very good at ballet but I still remember quite a bit of what's supposed to be done, since I studied for several years and didn't give it up altogether until I graduated from college. I never "got it" back then; I didn't work hard enough at it. I was just a dabbler.
It occurred to me that I've had classes in studios that were smaller than my family room. Now I wish I could really dance, and take advantage of all that space.
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