An Exciting Time to Be Alive

Why waste your time in a college classroom learning about the past when you could be out experiencing the present and the future?

For one thing, college is ultimately cheaper.

For two things, the present is extremely scary, and the future-- well, the human race seems to be skyrocketing off the tracks like that train in Spider-Man 2.

But really, this is probably the most exciting time to be alive since the late 60s. I used to be totally enamored with the Vietnam Era-- a time when a massive, multifaceted juggernaut of civil rights movements begun, a time when the people of America finally, after almost two hundred years of "the same," finally allowed themselves to be different and, in so doing, advanced civilization a few centuries in the short space of a few summers (you know what I'm talking about-- hippies, women's lib, gay liberation, antiwar movements). I would love the music, the fiction, the poetry, the films, oh, dear, the films (especially those amazing epic roadshow movies we're not lucky enough to have around anymore!) and I would think, Why wasn't I born then?

So that I could be born and live in this world. Those movements that started in the 60s didn't bloom and then suddenly die. Many of them still live on and are still necessary. And I'm still not sure what to make of it, but something sparked in my human imagination when it seemed like the entire Middle East turned upside down with revolution after revolution. The hippies, the women's libbers, the gay libbers, the antiwar folks, and so on still have so much to achieve, and I really have a feeling that so many exciting things are going to happen in the next ten years or so.

Our popular music is garbage now. We've lost the ability to march with dignity. And instead of being entangled in one horrid international conflict, we are now hopelessly entangled in three. Fortunately, 60s fashion died in the 70s. Fortunately, the spirit of social equality and community didn't. And while I'd give anything to inject some Sand Pebbles, some Hawaiis, some Doctor Zhivagos and some Fiddlers on Roofs into this MTV/Tarantino-inspired cinema culture, I'm really glad to be alive at this time in history.

Okay, cinema, maybe just the occasional Ryan's Daughter?

(If you don't get these movie references, feel free to look them up.)

Clarification from the Last Post

Yeah, I also like some of those movies from that blog. Mostly Doctor Zhivago. Ivanhoe is all right. Top Gun-- eh.

Part of critiquing cinema is being able to find the faults and/or absurd things about any movie, even the good ones.

The common thread running through Zhivago-- before the Revolution starts, after the various romantic difficulties have worked themselves out-- is Omar Sharif's mustache. :)

A Little Humor for the New Year

There's something I've always wanted to do. I've wanted to engage myself as a writer of those little summaries for movies on cable TV. I think I'd be fairly good at it, immodest as it may sound. I've spent so much of my life in the glow of the screen that it's had two effects on me: (1) turned me into a huge celluloid nerd and (2) given me the gift to know when a summary misses the mark.

So here's a sampling of my proposed work. I think you'll find these are more accurate than those you'll see in the actual listings.

Independence Day (1996) Will Smith gets mad and shoots some aliens.

Scarface (1983) Al Pacino gets mad and shoots everyone in sight.

Hello, Dolly! (1969) Two and a half hours of your life you'll never get back.

The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965) Ha! Fooled ya!

Ivanhoe (1952) People who talk funnily fight over some guy with a lion's heart, and presumably the ears of a bunny.

Driving Miss Daisy (1989) Morgan Freeman challenges Jessica Tandy to the sanctified "act-off."

All the President's Men (1976) A brutal indictment of '70s politics, but mostly of '70s hair.

Rocky (1976) The life story of the world's luckiest punching bag.

Alice in Wonderland (2009) Like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with a rabbit.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2006) Like Alice in Wonderland with unnaturally white teeth.

Top Gun (1986) Story of the forbidden love between a man, a plane, and his wingman. And something about Kelly McGillis.

The Sound of Music (1965) The Austrian Partridge Family fight the Nazis with the power... of showstopping musical numbers!

Doctor Zhivago (1965) Omar Sharif grows a mustache... again.

The Last Airbender (2010) A once-revered filmmaker hits rock bottom after an eight-year descent.


And to everyone in my life-- especially those who are going through difficult times right now-- I just want you to understand that I honestly and irrevocably love you.

The Answer To Everything!

A brief message to the protesters who think the tumultuous personal strife suffered by the late Elizabeth Edwards-- including her death-- is all the result of God's anger over an accepting stance on same-sex marriage. And remember, these are the same folks who protest at soldiers' funerals.

Ahem. Protesters:

Is that your answer to everything? God hates gays, so He makes innocent people suffer? Is that really how you picture God? Vengeful and unflinching, inflicting pain on anyone even if they never committed the sin he's supposedly punishing?

Doesn't God love everyone? Didn't Christ on the cross-- which may be one of the most painful, humiliating experiences ever devised by man's twisted imagination-- turn his voice to heaven to ask God to forgive his torturers? Is that the kind of thing done by a god who smites anyone over any sin?

Most importantly of all: why must you add to the suffering of the already-beleaguered, people you claim have already been punished by God? If that's right, isn't punishment by God enough agony for them?

Personally, I don't believe God would have a problem with same-sex marriage. But I respect that people do have such an opinion. The thing is, most people who think that don't insist on using death and other senseless tragedy as a soap box for sending a message.

Call Me a Scrooge, But....

Why, you may ask (if you knew what I was listening to right now), am I listening to Miklos Rozsa's Sodom and Gomorrah soundtrack instead of immersing myself in Christmas music as the rest of the civilized world seems to have done?

A) Because Miklos Rozsa was one of the most phenomenal geniuses ever to inhabit the planet and even his score for that notoriously cruddy shambles of a screen spectacle is a glorious work of art, further reinforcing my belief that a Rozsa score could have improved even a modern joke like Transformers.

B) Because I'm already sick of it.

Christmas music has been slithering around the airwaves since early November, and I am burned out. After all, how many times can you hear "Rudolph" and "Frosty" and "White Christmas" and (shudder) "The Christmas Shoes" before you want to scream at the top of your lungs?

We of the Pacific Northwest are further graced (although disgraced may be more accurate) with the kind of regional hogwash that would make Giorgio Moroder cringe. Examples: "Christmas in the Northwest," a shamelessly emotional ballad celebrating the joys of living in a snowless but evergreen state, replete with an instrumental, string-dominated reprise of the chorus and a mention of God giving us a gift and wrapping it in... you guessed it, green; and a song whose title I believe is something like "Seattle's Latte Land," an irritating retread of "Winter Wonderland" that further reinforces the stereotype that all Seattleites are pretentious, coffee-guzzling elitists with an unhealthy appreciation for cutesy music.

I can actually, at times, enjoy the music of this festive season as much as the next guy. I absolutely love me some "harking" and "conspiring" by a "fire". But after a zillion not-too-different versions of the same old songs (local spoofs notwithstanding), enough is enough.

Here's a brief Christmas playlist that I've found serves as an effective antidote, at least temporarily, to the Xmas OD.

• A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack by Vince Guaraldi-- Dominated by Guaraldi's now-iconic (but then unknown) music such as "Linus and Lucy" and the elegant, wondrous "Christmastime is Here," this soundtrack only sparingly relies on the old favorites. And old Chuck's holiday specials are so legendary now that no amount of airtime overload could rip it from its beloved place in all our hearts. The soundtrack CD is a must even for jazz haters like myself.
• The Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack by Danny Elfman-- "What's This," "Kidnap the Sandy Claws," etc. Not many movies can claim to be multi-seasonal (Holiday Inn and Miracle on 34th Street are the only others that come even close in my book) and not many Christmas CDs offer boxes filled with poxes as a gift suggestion.
• Bob Rivers' Twisted Christmas Albums-- The cultural-lampoon smorgasbord that gave us such unforgettable gems as "Walkin' Round in Women's Underwear," "Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire" (Melvinnnnnn!) and "The Restroom Door Said Gentlemen." Need I say more?
• "Road to Bethlehem/The Nativity" from King of Kings/"Star of Bethlehem/Adoration of the Magi" from Ben-Hur by Miklos Rozsa-- If you know me (or have read the upper spiel on this post), you saw this one or something like it coming. But not many composers get the chance to score the same scenario for two different movies. Those that do usually don't succeed like Rozsa. "Nativity" captures more of the weariness, joy, and uncertainty of Christ's birth; "Star" and "Magi" are more awed and reverent, yet they both sound vaguely similar. Certainly no one ever wrote more beautiful music for Christ than Rozsa, and if these offerings aren't enough to convince you, check out also: the King of Kings theme, the Christ theme from Ben-Hur, and "Quo Vadis Domine" from Quo Vadis.

So no, Sodom and Gomorrah isn't exactly Christmas-like. But the next time I hear "The Twelve Days of You-Know-What" I'm going to scream like a banshee who's just been kicked south of the equator.

No Such Thing As "Too Low to Go On"

This is a bad time in my life. A lot of people said 2009 would probably be the worst year of our lives, but in reality, I think it had a lot of highs. Another happy, healthy baby was added to my always-extending pantheon of nieces and nephews. I graduated high school, which (not to sound too proud) was a pretty big accomplishment for me.

But 2010 is shaping up to be pretty bad. Last year, people were planning on saying, "At least I survived 2009!" I plan to say, "At least I survived 2010." The cruel irony that Peter Hyams and Arthur C. Clarke's 2010 happens to be one of my all-time favorite movies is not lost on me.

Particularly this month, things just aren't really right in my world. And I'm not talking about myself because apart from being unnaturally lonely (and it feels great to type that out) and unhealthily stressed out about a college that's messing with me like a shark toddler plays with toy chum, I'm pretty much OK. It would be nice if my problems could go away (in fact, I'll be eternally grateful to anyone who happens to have a magic button or wand laying around).

But I'm more concerned about the people who are important to me. About their baby drama. About their economic woes. About their clinical depression (and there's a lot of that in the air, which is not cool). About the fact that many of the people I know and hold dear are struggling so hard and there's really nothing I can do to help them.

About the recent (but no longer new) glut of bullying-related gay suicides. I don't know anyone directly affected by it, but it should be on everybody's minds. Fortunately, Dan Savage and other incredible people have put together the It Gets Better Project with the goal of helping prevent other similar tragedies. It's horrible enough when external violence claims a life for such a stupid reason. It doesn't need to get any more horrible.

Aaaaaand to top it all off, it's election season. Which means that the airwaves (both on radio and television), phone lines, and mailboxes are inundated with the additional negativity of hack politicians trying to drag their opponents down with them. Like we needed the extra stress! (My theory: if mudslinging were banned, nobody would ever run for public office.)

The point in all this is that life works itself out in the end. It's how I can still have hope for myself, and how I still have hope for all of you. I'm an optimist, no matter how negative I skew at times. I have a friend who likes to point out how depressing some of the movies I like are. She sees Tommy as a story about a traumatized child whose life ends in despair after losing everything and everyone he holds dear. I see it as a movie about a boy who is actually cured of being deaf, dumb and blind and comes out of the horrible tragedies life throws his way battered, yes, but a wiser person. I know someone else who insists Camelot is horribly depressing because two best friends go to war when one friend betrays the other with the other's wife. I see it as a story about a man whose optimism and love help him to create a fantastic dream-- that fails, yes, but in the end, his optimism and love help him realize that there is a future as long as we remember the past. I suppose one could also see Carousel as a story about a layabout wifebeater who somehow ends up in heaven and whose widow never moves on with her life-- I see it as the quintessential tale of redemption and family love, and there is nothing downbeat about that ending on the seashore after the graduation.

Yes, these examples are all from movies. You should know how I operate by now. But you know-- no low is too low. Life is bowl-parabolic in nature. It may dip, but it always turns back upwards. Always.

Anarchy in the Streets

Just today, I was walking. You know, being a pedestrian and that? Well, let me reaffirm one of my long-held observations about traffic: you can't be an aggressive walker. Many people choose to be aggressive drivers, but that's because they have big, powerful automobiles at their command. But if you want to be an aggressive walker, your days are pretty much numbered because some drivers will do anything to save a few seconds.

Well, I was crossing the street not far from where I live. It's a three-way stoplight: west, east, and south, with clearly marked, lit crosswalks. Since traffic rarely comes from the south, it's hard to cross from north to south-- it requires a lot of waiting, usually. But that's okay. What's not okay to me as a walker (and a human being with common sense) are all the people who don't realize that, since it's not forbidden by a sign, right turners at this light coming from the south are allowed to take their turn even though they have a red light provided there is no traffic coming. I can't stand waiting for the light and seeing this person (who, apparently, doesn't know driving laws as well as some of us who don't have licenses) wait, pulled completely forward past the near crosswalk and virtually into the potentially approaching traffic, for a green light to take their turn even though they've had countless opportunities to turn. You see, usually what happens in these scenarios is, I get my walk light and they get a green at the same time, and they seem to expect to be able to turn first-- even though the pedestrian has the right of way. I've been honked at, sworn at, and who knows what else at this crosswalk because I know that their green will last a good twenty seconds or so after my light is completely gone, so I go first because (a) it's my right and (b) I'm not at all slow when I cross the street, so they don't have to wait much longer anyway.

Well, today it happened again. Same crosswalk. Honk and all. Only today, the story is slightly different because I encountered this driver a second time, pulling out of a driveway that had no traffic light. He was in a truck, ready to turn right across two lanes of traffic (on a fairly busy street-- a right turn and a turnaround probably would have been quicker). As could be expected, he was pulled completely out into the bike lane, interfering with pedestrians' ability to cross because we would either have to walk around his truck or step out onto the street to get past. I didn't realize it was the same truck at first, but when the passenger took the time and effort to flip me off on the rebound, I knew fate had struck once more. Obviously, my adherence to what I thought was a well-known and perfectly reasonable law caused these people so much inconvenience and irritation that they carried a grudge, and possibly still do. (I should also explain that I'm wearing a bright, fairly distinctive shirt right now.)

Once again, I feel like I'm expected to be at the mercy of impatient, possibly reckless motorists just because I don't have a way to transport myself right now except for my own two legs and the local transit systems. Somehow the hierarchy of traffic has toppled, with vehicles at the top of the pyramid, crushing cyclists, who in turn are spinning their wheels over pedestrians. But the fact is fairly simple. The only vehicle I own right now is myself. I'm a human being. A slightly overweight human being, to be sure, but if I walked into a car (which would be fairly amusing to see) it really wouldn't cause any damage. Cars "walking" into human beings, however, can cause anything from a broken bone to an ended life. So, yes, unfortunately, that does require paying attention. (Walkers have to pay attention, too.) And being patient. And realizing that traffic laws are there for a reason.

No, I'm not the kind of person who is offended by every middle finger thrown his way. But in this case, it's just another depressing reminder that taking a walk is taking your life into your hands.