It's as though Scotland has moved in next door. Outside it's gray, rainy, and foggy, and I heard thunder through the roof of the building this morning. Eeesh. Not that I'm complaining, really. Rain, at this point, is infinitely better than snow. It means spring is coming and that, my friends, is a train I can board.
I just handed back a big ol' stack of papers to my 1001 students this morning and it's nice to be free of that particular burden - for a couple of days at least. I'm collecting another assignment from them on Monday. Sigh. If there is one thing about my job that is kind of a chore, it's grading papers. I love being in class, love meeting with students individually, and even find value in the administrative stuff I'm called on to do like staff meetings and orientations. But paper grading can just be kind of punishing sometimes.
It's not that it's hard because it's not. I'm a fast reader and have gotten to the point where I can identify and articulate problems in an essay pretty quickly. It's just a matter of getting in the mood to do it. Fast reader or not, it's always time consuming and I have to be in a certain mood to sit down, concentrate, block out everything else, and get my read on.
I think part of the problem is the fact that most students at age 18 don't have really spectacular writing skills nor do they have really original ideas. I'm not criticizing them. I'm sure part of the problem is my teaching. I'm just saying that most 18-21 year olds that were raised in the same area in basically the same way are going write largely the same essay. Out of one class of 20 something students, four of them wrote about their barn when asked to write about an important place. Again, I'm not saying they're bad students for having a similar place in common. I'm just saying that it's partly the lack of variety that can make grading papers a little tiresome.
I could say more about the lack of specifics, the seeming unwillingness to acknowledge that there is a piece of punctuation known as a comma, the insistence on stopping at 3 pages whether the essay is done or not - but I won't. I won't because, #1 - I'm really grateful to have this job and it's too good to complain about and #2 because all of those problems are part of my job. I'm here to help fix those things. If they could already write with perfect clarity, what would they need me for? So, really in a way, I should be grateful for those absent commas and those botched thesis statements. Without them, I probably wouldn't have a paycheck.
I have a stack of 1002 papers that need to be graded but those will be a little more interesting because they're based on some terrific short stories and it's interesting to read what other people think of them.
I'll get to them soon enough though. For now, it's about time for me to go home. I think I'll take it easy this afternoon. Help the girls with their homework, maybe watch a movie, maybe bake some cookies or something like that. I'll let you know.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
No Pastry Love For Us
Well, sadly, the early bird gets the worm and paczki seekers who get to the bakery before noon get the deep fried pastry. We didn't go over to Spring Valley until almost five so we didn't stand a chance. The "Today Is Paczki Day!" sign was still in the window and everything - taunting us - but the bakery closed at 12 so we were out of luck. In the end, we settled for Casey's doughnuts, which are tasty and bad for you in a good sort of way but still not the same. Ah well. There's always next year.
February is swiftly drawing to a close and not a moment too soon for me. Daylight Savings time happens in just a couple of weeks and the first day of spring is the week after that. I need it to be warm. I need to be able to get out of the house. I need for my kids to be able to play outside. I need longer days.
February is swiftly drawing to a close and not a moment too soon for me. Daylight Savings time happens in just a couple of weeks and the first day of spring is the week after that. I need it to be warm. I need to be able to get out of the house. I need for my kids to be able to play outside. I need longer days.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Ponch-Key?
I'm almost back to normal (such as it is.) I'm functioning at about 90% right now and actually woke up this morning feeling okay about being alive. The bad news, of course, is that Maryn has had the crud since Sunday and is suffering a lot. I wish there was more we could do for her. The bad thing about being a kid is that you don't even get the good medicine.
Today, Suzanne called and asked if I realized what day it is - Fat Tuesday. In Michigan and any other place with Polish people, that means it's also Paczki Day. For those of you not in the know, the great Internet god, Wikipedia answers all our questions:
"A pączek is a deep-fried piece of dough shaped into a flattened sphere and filled with confiture or other sweet filling. Pączki are usually covered with powdered sugar, icing or bits of dried orange zest.
Although they look like bismarcks or jelly doughnuts, pączki (pronounced ponchki but mistakenly pronounced poonchki or punchki)are made from especially rich dough containing eggs, fats, sugar and sometimes milk. They feature a variety of fruit and creme fillings and can be glazed, or covered with granulated or powdered sugar. Prunes and rose-petal jam[citation needed] are traditional fillings, but many others are used as well, including lemon, strawberry, Bavarian cream, blueberry, custard, raspberry and apple."
"In Poland, they are eaten especially on Fat Thursday (the last Thursday before Lent). Many Polish Americans celebrate Paczki Day on Fat Tuesday (the day before Ash Wednesday). Traditionally, the reason for making pączki was to use up all the lard, sugar, eggs and fruit in the house, which are forbidden during Lent.
In the large Polish community of Chicago, and other large cities across the Midwest, Paczki Day is also celebrated annually by immigrants and locals alike. In Buffalo, Cleveland, Detroit, Hamtramck, Windsor, Milwaukee,Pulaski and South Bend, Paczki Day is more commonly celebrated on Fat Tuesday instead of Fat Thursday. Chicago celebrated and Fat Tuesday, due to its sizable Polish population.
In Hamtramck, an enclave in Detroit, there is an annual Paczki Day (Fat Tuesday) Parade, and lines at bakeries can be seen up to 24 hours before the deep-fried delights go on sale Tuesday morning."
When Suzanne and I drove around last week and visited some neighboring towns, we spotted a small bakery in Spring Valley that advertised paczkis. So, in our never ending quest for better and more powerful carbohydrate and sugar combinations, we will go back out this afternoon with the girls in hopes of finding the paczki. Wish us luck.
Today, Suzanne called and asked if I realized what day it is - Fat Tuesday. In Michigan and any other place with Polish people, that means it's also Paczki Day. For those of you not in the know, the great Internet god, Wikipedia answers all our questions:
"A pączek is a deep-fried piece of dough shaped into a flattened sphere and filled with confiture or other sweet filling. Pączki are usually covered with powdered sugar, icing or bits of dried orange zest.
Although they look like bismarcks or jelly doughnuts, pączki (pronounced ponchki but mistakenly pronounced poonchki or punchki)are made from especially rich dough containing eggs, fats, sugar and sometimes milk. They feature a variety of fruit and creme fillings and can be glazed, or covered with granulated or powdered sugar. Prunes and rose-petal jam[citation needed] are traditional fillings, but many others are used as well, including lemon, strawberry, Bavarian cream, blueberry, custard, raspberry and apple."
"In Poland, they are eaten especially on Fat Thursday (the last Thursday before Lent). Many Polish Americans celebrate Paczki Day on Fat Tuesday (the day before Ash Wednesday). Traditionally, the reason for making pączki was to use up all the lard, sugar, eggs and fruit in the house, which are forbidden during Lent.
In the large Polish community of Chicago, and other large cities across the Midwest, Paczki Day is also celebrated annually by immigrants and locals alike. In Buffalo, Cleveland, Detroit, Hamtramck, Windsor, Milwaukee,Pulaski and South Bend, Paczki Day is more commonly celebrated on Fat Tuesday instead of Fat Thursday. Chicago celebrated and Fat Tuesday, due to its sizable Polish population.
In Hamtramck, an enclave in Detroit, there is an annual Paczki Day (Fat Tuesday) Parade, and lines at bakeries can be seen up to 24 hours before the deep-fried delights go on sale Tuesday morning."
When Suzanne and I drove around last week and visited some neighboring towns, we spotted a small bakery in Spring Valley that advertised paczkis. So, in our never ending quest for better and more powerful carbohydrate and sugar combinations, we will go back out this afternoon with the girls in hopes of finding the paczki. Wish us luck.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Happy Birthday, Uncle Ansel
From the Writer's Almanac for February 20:
"It's the birthday of photographer Ansel Adams, born in San Francisco, California (1902). He spent a lot of time wandering in the wild places of the San Francisco area, hiking on the dunes or exploring Lobos Creek. When he was a teenager, he went to Yosemite National Park and took his first photographs with a Kodak Box Brownie camera. He persuaded the owner of a photo-finishing plant to take him on as a darkroom apprentice. Every summer he traveled to Yosemite, trying to take better and better photos. Looking out at the mountains, he said, "The silver light turned every blade of grass and every particle of sand into a luminous metallic splendor." He wanted to take photos that captured every blade of grass and particle of sand in perfect focus.
He served on the Sierra Club's board of directors for almost 40 years, and he allowed his photographs to be reprinted in calendars and books, hoping they would inspire people to protect wilderness areas. He died in 1984, and Congress approved the creation of Ansel Adams Wilderness, which preserved more than 200,000 acres of land near Yosemite."
Thursday, February 19, 2009
On the Sick Front
I have been sick for the last two days. For my general state of health, I have been monumentally sick. Normally, I catch a minor cold once or twice a year, I sound like Barry White for a couple of days, and then I go back to normal. No big whoop.
Starting Tuesday evening though, I was hacking and coughing like a 70 year old coal miner with a smoking habit. My joints felt like they were rusted through and my head came close to breaking open at least a couple of times. Sweating, chills, horrible Nyquil-induced dreams, and no desire to eat or drink have been just some of the joys I've experienced in the last 48 hours.
All in all, I'd have to say that being sick really sucks canal water. I hate it.
My temperature was down to 99 this afternoon and I have a little bit of an appetite so I can only hope I'm actually on the mend. Bleh. Yesterday was a complete loss but today I summoned up enough strength to work the remote control and watch On the Waterfront. As several people predicted, I really, really liked it. The performances are vital, the on-location shooting and cinematography are perfect, and the story itself was moving. I was particularly struck by the use of sound - both diegetic (sounds that actually occur within the narrative - the sounds of ship horns, kids playing, traffic) and non-diegetic (soundtrack music, voiceover, etc. Sound that doesn't occur naturally in the story.) Leonard Bernstein's score is simultaneously elegant and brutal while the director's choice to have almost all of Terry Malloy's big confession to Edie covered up by the sounds of the harbor was genius.
Yes, Tawnya, Karl Malden is great. But, besides Marlon Brando's standout performance, I was really taken with Lee J. Cobb as Johnny Friendly. The guy seemed genuinely dangerous.
The themes of loyalty no matter what, no snitchin', and corruption resonated with me as well. In that sense, the film reminded me a lot of my students back in Detroit.
Well, I'm headed back to my well-worn position on the couch. Hopefully, the rest of my hacking with go away before tomorrow so I can back to work and stop bothering Suzanne with all this annoying sickness.
Starting Tuesday evening though, I was hacking and coughing like a 70 year old coal miner with a smoking habit. My joints felt like they were rusted through and my head came close to breaking open at least a couple of times. Sweating, chills, horrible Nyquil-induced dreams, and no desire to eat or drink have been just some of the joys I've experienced in the last 48 hours.
All in all, I'd have to say that being sick really sucks canal water. I hate it.
My temperature was down to 99 this afternoon and I have a little bit of an appetite so I can only hope I'm actually on the mend. Bleh. Yesterday was a complete loss but today I summoned up enough strength to work the remote control and watch On the Waterfront. As several people predicted, I really, really liked it. The performances are vital, the on-location shooting and cinematography are perfect, and the story itself was moving. I was particularly struck by the use of sound - both diegetic (sounds that actually occur within the narrative - the sounds of ship horns, kids playing, traffic) and non-diegetic (soundtrack music, voiceover, etc. Sound that doesn't occur naturally in the story.) Leonard Bernstein's score is simultaneously elegant and brutal while the director's choice to have almost all of Terry Malloy's big confession to Edie covered up by the sounds of the harbor was genius.
Yes, Tawnya, Karl Malden is great. But, besides Marlon Brando's standout performance, I was really taken with Lee J. Cobb as Johnny Friendly. The guy seemed genuinely dangerous.
The themes of loyalty no matter what, no snitchin', and corruption resonated with me as well. In that sense, the film reminded me a lot of my students back in Detroit.
Well, I'm headed back to my well-worn position on the couch. Hopefully, the rest of my hacking with go away before tomorrow so I can back to work and stop bothering Suzanne with all this annoying sickness.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Weekend Round-Up
Weekend Round-up:
An American in Paris: As with Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, and Joan Crawford, I have found that Gene Kelly is worth all the hype. I'm not saying he's a Great Actor (to be said Master Thespian-style) because I don't think he was. I am saying, however, that the guy had serious wattage as a screen presence and could actually pull off being a full-fledged DANCER while always maintaining his masculinity and cool. I don't think there are many men who can do that. The Gershwin songs are fun, of course, but the seemingly endless dance sequence at the climax of the film just about put me under. It reminded me of Shirley Jones' dream sequence in Oklahoma! Really long and something only a true fan of musicals could appreciate. Also, what in the world is wrong with Leslie Caron's face?
Gilda: This film could be retitled Unpleasant People Doing Unpleasant Things. I've watched a lot of noirs filled with terrible characters with empty hearts but for some reason, Gilda just struck me as particularly bleak. I like Glen Ford and Rita Hayworth certainly isn't hard to look at - but jeeze. The two of them spend the entire movie smoldering, loving each other so much that they hate each other. Then things work out and they leave Buenos Aires together, happy and in love. All in all, it's just kinda stupid. I didn't enjoy it much at all. Rita Hayworth had awesome hair though.
Up next: On The Waterfront.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Proof That I Can Still Love Poetry
Mary Bly
I sit here, doing nothing, alone, worn out by long winter.
I feel the light breath of the newborn child.
Her face is smooth as the side of an apricot,
Eyes quick as her blond mother's hands.
She has full, soft, red hair, and as she lies quiet
In her tall mother's arms, her delicate hands
Weave back and forth.I feel the seasons changing beneath me,
Under the floor.
She is braiding the waters of air into the plaited manes
Of happy colts.
They canter, without making a sound, along the shores
Of melting snow.
James Wright
I sit here, doing nothing, alone, worn out by long winter.
I feel the light breath of the newborn child.
Her face is smooth as the side of an apricot,
Eyes quick as her blond mother's hands.
She has full, soft, red hair, and as she lies quiet
In her tall mother's arms, her delicate hands
Weave back and forth.I feel the seasons changing beneath me,
Under the floor.
She is braiding the waters of air into the plaited manes
Of happy colts.
They canter, without making a sound, along the shores
Of melting snow.
James Wright
Thursday, February 12, 2009
If Yes, Check Box
Have you ever...
(X) Gone on a blind date (Sort of. I'd seen her twin sister but not her. Does that count?)
(X) Skipped school (has anyone NOT done this?)
( ) Watched someone die
(X) Been to Canada (Yeah, but they almost didn't let me back in to the U.S.)
(X) Been to Mexico (A couple of hours in Tijuana. No big whoop.)
(X) Been to Florida (Disneyworld, baby!)
(X) Been on a plane
(X) Been lost
( ) Been on the opposite side of the country (the opposite of where exactly?)
( ) Gone to Washington, D.C. (No, but I would love to go to the Smithsonian someday.)
(X) Swam in the ocean (Does standing hip deep count?)
(X) Cried yourself to sleep
(X) Played cops and robbers
() Recently colored with crayons
() Sang Karaoke (if I drank and was drunk, I might do this)
(X) Paid for a meal with coins only
(X) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't (how many thousands of times?)
(X) Made prank phone calls
(X) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(X) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(X) How about a snowball in the face
( ) Danced in the rain (I don't really dance anywhere so in the rain is just one of many places I have not danced.)
(X) Written a letter to Santa Claus
(X) Been kissed under the mistletoe
(X) Watched the sunrise with someone
(X) Blown bubbles (the soap kind)
(X) Gone ice-skating
(X) Been skinny dipping outdoors
(X) Gone to the movies (whaa...?)
(X) Rode on a Motorcycle
(X) Did any acting or on stage performances
(X) Shot a gun
1. Your nickname?
Marcus, Mark the Shark, Markie, Yo MB, Downtown Brown, Mark Boogie, Jones.
2. Your Mother's name?
Laurel Gwen Sheffield Brown. Goes by Laurie or "Where's my dinner?" (If you believe that, I've got a bridge I want to sell you.)
3. Your Favorite drink?
Pepsi. Hot chocolate. Fresh lemonade.
4. Do you have any Body Piercings?
Nope.
5. Do you have any Tattoos?
Nope. I don't volunteer for anything involving needles.
6. How much do you love your job?
A lot. It's sweet.
7. Your Birthplace?
Pocatello, ID
8. Favorite vacation spot?
Idaho. The beaches of California. The open road.
9. Ever been to Africa?
"I had a farm in Africa."
10. Ever eaten just cookies for dinner?
Dinner. Breakfast. Second breakfast. Snacks. Brunch. You name it.
11. Ever been on TV?
Yes.
12. Ever steal any traffic signs?
No.
13. Ever been in a car accident?
One or two. Always their fault.
14. Do you drive a 2-door or 4-door vehicle or no vehicle?
I have cars of both the two door and four door variety.
15. Your Favorite number?
4 8 15 16 23 42
16. Your Favorite movie?
Today it's Iron Man. Tomorrow? Who knows.
17. Your Favorite holiday?
Arbor Day
18. Your Favorite dessert?
One of those hot brownie things with ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce that you can get at places like Applebees.
19. Your Favorite food?
Magic fish. Potatoes in all their forms. Big Jud's hamburgers. Soup. All kinds of soup. Greek salad. Chocolate shakes.
20. Your Favorite day of the week?
Friday. Maybe Saturday.
21. How do you relax?
I read, watch movies, go for drives.
22. How do you see yourself in 10 years?
Skinnier hopefully. Nicer. Better looking. Richer.
23. Furthest place you will send this message?
The Norse Penny reaches all across the globe. (Not really. The farthest it will go is probably Portland.)
24. Who will respond to this the fastest?
Why is this question always on these surveys? Is there a prize for answering first? I will give a prize to whoever answers first....
(X) Gone on a blind date (Sort of. I'd seen her twin sister but not her. Does that count?)
(X) Skipped school (has anyone NOT done this?)
( ) Watched someone die
(X) Been to Canada (Yeah, but they almost didn't let me back in to the U.S.)
(X) Been to Mexico (A couple of hours in Tijuana. No big whoop.)
(X) Been to Florida (Disneyworld, baby!)
(X) Been on a plane
(X) Been lost
( ) Been on the opposite side of the country (the opposite of where exactly?)
( ) Gone to Washington, D.C. (No, but I would love to go to the Smithsonian someday.)
(X) Swam in the ocean (Does standing hip deep count?)
(X) Cried yourself to sleep
(X) Played cops and robbers
() Recently colored with crayons
() Sang Karaoke (if I drank and was drunk, I might do this)
(X) Paid for a meal with coins only
(X) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't (how many thousands of times?)
(X) Made prank phone calls
(X) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(X) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(X) How about a snowball in the face
( ) Danced in the rain (I don't really dance anywhere so in the rain is just one of many places I have not danced.)
(X) Written a letter to Santa Claus
(X) Been kissed under the mistletoe
(X) Watched the sunrise with someone
(X) Blown bubbles (the soap kind)
(X) Gone ice-skating
(X) Been skinny dipping outdoors
(X) Gone to the movies (whaa...?)
(X) Rode on a Motorcycle
(X) Did any acting or on stage performances
(X) Shot a gun
1. Your nickname?
Marcus, Mark the Shark, Markie, Yo MB, Downtown Brown, Mark Boogie, Jones.
2. Your Mother's name?
Laurel Gwen Sheffield Brown. Goes by Laurie or "Where's my dinner?" (If you believe that, I've got a bridge I want to sell you.)
3. Your Favorite drink?
Pepsi. Hot chocolate. Fresh lemonade.
4. Do you have any Body Piercings?
Nope.
5. Do you have any Tattoos?
Nope. I don't volunteer for anything involving needles.
6. How much do you love your job?
A lot. It's sweet.
7. Your Birthplace?
Pocatello, ID
8. Favorite vacation spot?
Idaho. The beaches of California. The open road.
9. Ever been to Africa?
"I had a farm in Africa."
10. Ever eaten just cookies for dinner?
Dinner. Breakfast. Second breakfast. Snacks. Brunch. You name it.
11. Ever been on TV?
Yes.
12. Ever steal any traffic signs?
No.
13. Ever been in a car accident?
One or two. Always their fault.
14. Do you drive a 2-door or 4-door vehicle or no vehicle?
I have cars of both the two door and four door variety.
15. Your Favorite number?
4 8 15 16 23 42
16. Your Favorite movie?
Today it's Iron Man. Tomorrow? Who knows.
17. Your Favorite holiday?
Arbor Day
18. Your Favorite dessert?
One of those hot brownie things with ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce that you can get at places like Applebees.
19. Your Favorite food?
Magic fish. Potatoes in all their forms. Big Jud's hamburgers. Soup. All kinds of soup. Greek salad. Chocolate shakes.
20. Your Favorite day of the week?
Friday. Maybe Saturday.
21. How do you relax?
I read, watch movies, go for drives.
22. How do you see yourself in 10 years?
Skinnier hopefully. Nicer. Better looking. Richer.
23. Furthest place you will send this message?
The Norse Penny reaches all across the globe. (Not really. The farthest it will go is probably Portland.)
24. Who will respond to this the fastest?
Why is this question always on these surveys? Is there a prize for answering first? I will give a prize to whoever answers first....
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Weekend Roundup
Quickly then:
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Angels with Dirty Faces: Once again proving that James Cagney is every bit as watchable and vital as any actor working today. He outclasses Edward O'Brien by far and generally raises the caliber of the whole movie. The film also features Humphrey Bogart in a rare, early role as a simpering bad guy.
The Lady from Shanghai: Much less imposing and obnoxious than Touch of Evil, Orson's other big film noir effort. More than anything, I'm struck by how apparent it is that Welles got his start in the live theater. Everything about his performance, his script, and his direction is just so back-of-the-hand-held-to-the-forehead dramatic. He loves his kooky characters too. In Touch of Evil, it was the guy who ran the hotel. In The Lady from Shanghai, it's George the weasely lawyer. Rita Hayworth looks strange as a blond.
Meet Me in St. Louis: Almost nothing happens. In terms of conflict, suspense, etc. there's almost none. It's much more about the Technicolor (which is really spectacular), the songs (which are catchy and pleasant for the most part), and Judy Garland (who is funny and magnetic). I've never seen her in anything other than the Wizard of Oz until now and I can see that she was a genuine talent and not just as a singer. She's fun to watch and you can't say that for everyone. This one was less painful than Oklahoma!
_01.jpg)
Angels with Dirty Faces: Once again proving that James Cagney is every bit as watchable and vital as any actor working today. He outclasses Edward O'Brien by far and generally raises the caliber of the whole movie. The film also features Humphrey Bogart in a rare, early role as a simpering bad guy.
The Lady from Shanghai: Much less imposing and obnoxious than Touch of Evil, Orson's other big film noir effort. More than anything, I'm struck by how apparent it is that Welles got his start in the live theater. Everything about his performance, his script, and his direction is just so back-of-the-hand-held-to-the-forehead dramatic. He loves his kooky characters too. In Touch of Evil, it was the guy who ran the hotel. In The Lady from Shanghai, it's George the weasely lawyer. Rita Hayworth looks strange as a blond.
Meet Me in St. Louis: Almost nothing happens. In terms of conflict, suspense, etc. there's almost none. It's much more about the Technicolor (which is really spectacular), the songs (which are catchy and pleasant for the most part), and Judy Garland (who is funny and magnetic). I've never seen her in anything other than the Wizard of Oz until now and I can see that she was a genuine talent and not just as a singer. She's fun to watch and you can't say that for everyone. This one was less painful than Oklahoma!
Not Up In The Night
I used to be an athlete of sleeplessness. I could perform great feats of derring-do with zero rest. In high school, my average bedtime was midnight or one - nothing particularly special about that. But in college, I regularly pulled literal all-nighters. I remember more than once typing all night and then watching the sun rise while waiting for class to start. It used to not bother me. I could go without sleep for an entire night and then just sleep a regular six or seven hours for the next couple nights until a weekend came along and then I'd catch up. It just wasn't a big deal.
No longer.
Unfortunately, I've lost my athlete status. I once was the Michael Jordan of going without sleep and now I'm the post-retirement Charles Barkley - fat, slow, and no longer capable of my former feats. I'm a big wuss now when it comes to sleep. It's not like I'm my mom and I feel like turning in at 6:30 in the evening but it's also not like I can just go without rest without being severely affected.
The last all-nighter I pulled was at Wayne State during my first year. I went to the 24 hour computer lab at 9 or 10 and stayed until about 5 a.m. I went straight to work from there and was a complete washout for the rest of the day. I couldn't teach, couldn't function, could barely stand.
I don't even attempt anything like that these days but it's more than that. These days I can barely stay up for a movie. I'm still plugging away, still adding movies to my qualifying exam list for school. I don't usually try to watch them until after the girls are in bed because when they're up and about there are too many distractions. But even once they're in bed, Suzanne and I usually watch some TV together and talk for at least an hour or two so I don't get to any movie until 10 p.m. 10 shouldn't be late but it is, especially if I'm watching something that isn't exactly holding my attention fully.
Case in point: Over the weekend, I watched Orson Welles's The Lady from Shanghai. I watched the first forty five minutes during the day with the girls (which is funny because they totally understand the basics of what's going on: "Daddy, is that blond lady trying to tempt that man?") but then I still had another forty five minutes to go. So we go through our usual ritual, get the girls to bed, watch TV for an hour, and then I decide I'm going to finish the movie once Suzanne goes to sleep.
I start the movie, turn on the "display" function that tells me how many minutes are left and start watching. The next thing I know, Suzanne elbows me and says, "You're snoring." I look up and not even ten minutes have gone by. I fell asleep in less then five minutes and was snoring, sitting up, with the light on.
Obviously, I was setting myself up by trying to watch the movie in bed but it happened last week on the couch while trying to watch Border Incident. I just don't have the stamina I once did. I'm thirty five and I'm no longer a young man. Sigh.
So obviously a couple of things need to happen. Movies need to take a little priority over the Food Network so I can watch them earlier in the evening. (Thing about the Food Network is, whatever it is that you missed, they'll play it again in another day or two, probably twice.). Also, I need to watch the movies in the family room and not in bed. I might as well take an Ambien or drink six beers if I'm going to watch musicals in bed.
My days as an athlete of sleeplessness are over but perhaps my best days of cleverly outwitting my age and physical limitations are yet to come.
No longer.
Unfortunately, I've lost my athlete status. I once was the Michael Jordan of going without sleep and now I'm the post-retirement Charles Barkley - fat, slow, and no longer capable of my former feats. I'm a big wuss now when it comes to sleep. It's not like I'm my mom and I feel like turning in at 6:30 in the evening but it's also not like I can just go without rest without being severely affected.
The last all-nighter I pulled was at Wayne State during my first year. I went to the 24 hour computer lab at 9 or 10 and stayed until about 5 a.m. I went straight to work from there and was a complete washout for the rest of the day. I couldn't teach, couldn't function, could barely stand.
I don't even attempt anything like that these days but it's more than that. These days I can barely stay up for a movie. I'm still plugging away, still adding movies to my qualifying exam list for school. I don't usually try to watch them until after the girls are in bed because when they're up and about there are too many distractions. But even once they're in bed, Suzanne and I usually watch some TV together and talk for at least an hour or two so I don't get to any movie until 10 p.m. 10 shouldn't be late but it is, especially if I'm watching something that isn't exactly holding my attention fully.
Case in point: Over the weekend, I watched Orson Welles's The Lady from Shanghai. I watched the first forty five minutes during the day with the girls (which is funny because they totally understand the basics of what's going on: "Daddy, is that blond lady trying to tempt that man?") but then I still had another forty five minutes to go. So we go through our usual ritual, get the girls to bed, watch TV for an hour, and then I decide I'm going to finish the movie once Suzanne goes to sleep.
I start the movie, turn on the "display" function that tells me how many minutes are left and start watching. The next thing I know, Suzanne elbows me and says, "You're snoring." I look up and not even ten minutes have gone by. I fell asleep in less then five minutes and was snoring, sitting up, with the light on.
Obviously, I was setting myself up by trying to watch the movie in bed but it happened last week on the couch while trying to watch Border Incident. I just don't have the stamina I once did. I'm thirty five and I'm no longer a young man. Sigh.
So obviously a couple of things need to happen. Movies need to take a little priority over the Food Network so I can watch them earlier in the evening. (Thing about the Food Network is, whatever it is that you missed, they'll play it again in another day or two, probably twice.). Also, I need to watch the movies in the family room and not in bed. I might as well take an Ambien or drink six beers if I'm going to watch musicals in bed.
My days as an athlete of sleeplessness are over but perhaps my best days of cleverly outwitting my age and physical limitations are yet to come.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
There Is A Town Called Hot Coffee, Mississippi
I'm not a coffee drinker and, therefore, am unfamiliar with the ways of the fancy hot beverage world. I wouldn't know the difference between a Colombian blend and South Blend, Indiana. (ha ha) I don't know why adding the Italian suffix "ccino" to stuff (frappaccino, chillaccino, etc.) is supposed to make things better. What I really don't understand is why beverage temperatures apparently must be high enough to burn through any organic matter, including tongues.
This afternoon I was feeling a touch of cabin fever and so, for lunch, I drove over to the Fourth Street Bakery in LaSalle for a cinnamon-sugar bagel and some hot chocolate. The bagel was divine - sweet, chewy, not too heavy. It was perfect and I haven't had anything that good since the days of Bagelby's in Pocatello. (Over ten years ago now.)
The hot chocolate, on the other hand, is a mystery. I don't know how it tasted because just the heat vapor rising out of the pencil-eraser-sized hole in the lid singed my taste bus right off. I looked through the little hole in the lid and, just before my retinas were scalded right out of my head, this is what I saw:
Bad, right? It's not good when the fiery cauldron of Hell appears in something you bought to drink, y'know?
So anyway, I carried the thing around for forty five minutes, blowing on it, whimpering quietly over my burned tongue and retinas, waiting for it to become cool enough for someone not made out of cast iron to drink it. Finally, after close to an hour, it was a reasonable temperature but by then, I was so thirsty and irritated that I just gulped it down. There was no savoring, no enjoying. Just the perfunctory act of getting it over with. Sigh.
So what's the deal? Why do things have to be heated until it's as though they've been scooped from the biggest lake on the Sun? Is it some kind of messed up way of making people think they're getting something extra special for their four dollar coffee? "Well, it tasted just like every other cup of coffee I've ever had, but man, was it hot!" I don't know. If anyone has a theory, please enlighten me.
P.S. I guess I should have been tipped off when I saw that the barista looked like this:
This afternoon I was feeling a touch of cabin fever and so, for lunch, I drove over to the Fourth Street Bakery in LaSalle for a cinnamon-sugar bagel and some hot chocolate. The bagel was divine - sweet, chewy, not too heavy. It was perfect and I haven't had anything that good since the days of Bagelby's in Pocatello. (Over ten years ago now.)
The hot chocolate, on the other hand, is a mystery. I don't know how it tasted because just the heat vapor rising out of the pencil-eraser-sized hole in the lid singed my taste bus right off. I looked through the little hole in the lid and, just before my retinas were scalded right out of my head, this is what I saw:
Bad, right? It's not good when the fiery cauldron of Hell appears in something you bought to drink, y'know?
So anyway, I carried the thing around for forty five minutes, blowing on it, whimpering quietly over my burned tongue and retinas, waiting for it to become cool enough for someone not made out of cast iron to drink it. Finally, after close to an hour, it was a reasonable temperature but by then, I was so thirsty and irritated that I just gulped it down. There was no savoring, no enjoying. Just the perfunctory act of getting it over with. Sigh.
So what's the deal? Why do things have to be heated until it's as though they've been scooped from the biggest lake on the Sun? Is it some kind of messed up way of making people think they're getting something extra special for their four dollar coffee? "Well, it tasted just like every other cup of coffee I've ever had, but man, was it hot!" I don't know. If anyone has a theory, please enlighten me.
P.S. I guess I should have been tipped off when I saw that the barista looked like this:
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Strange Days Are Over
I am always a little sad when I finish a really good book. If I've enjoyed a book enough to read it all the way through, chances are I like the characters and I'm invested in what happens to them and their world. Once the book is over, that's it. You can go back and re-read but that's not the same as finding your way through the first time.
Over the weekend, I finally (and I do mean finally) finished reading Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. It took me over a year and that, for me, is unheard of. I'm a pretty fast reader and once I get involved in a book, I'll selfishly carve away time away from other activities in order to keep reading. As far as I can remember, it hasn't taken me more than a week or ten days to finish any book since junior high.
But JSAMN is different. I bought it off the remainder table at Barnes and Noble during the Christmas sales of 2007. I'd heard good things about it and, of course, the cover was striking and attractive. Plus it's nearly 800 pages long and when you can get a hardcover book that size for only six dollars, it's hard not to buy it just because it's a great deal.
I started it, liked what I read, but then had to put it down because there were other, more pressing things - school, work, family, etc. I just felt like I couldn't give the time I needed to really invest. So I set it aside for a long time. I picked it up again at some point mid year and read another hundred pages but then had to put it back down again.
Leading up to our move here and just after, I found myself reading before bed. If I fall asleep first, Suzanne can't because apparently I "snore like a congested heifer." So I read until she falls asleep. So after about a month of delayed-snoring reading, I finished it. Now I'm sad. Not only do I miss the characters, I miss having that regular escape hatch to another world. I know I can always pick up another book but it's like leaving a warm, cozy bed and moving into one that hasn't had its sheets warmed up yet. I'd much rather just stay where it's warm rather than waiting for new sheets to warm up.
Ah well, all good things must come to an end.
If you have the mind and the time, I would obviously recommend the book. It's great fun and worth the effort.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Oh, What A Beautiful Cinemascope!
I've never been one for musicals. To me, they're sort of surreal and odd - the way people just break into song in the middle of their daily life, strangers coming to join in elaborate dance routines. They just never gave me much of a thrill. (With the inexplicable exception of 1962's The Music Man. Don't know why but Robert Preston and Shirley Jones just worked for me.)
I had a boss once who was a Hollywood musical aficionado. He referred to White Christmas as "the apex of musical filmmaking." Largely, he made me want to claw my own eyes out when he talked this way.
I was in a musical production in high school - Barnum, the song-and-dance version of circus master and great flim-flammer, P.T. Barnum. My friend Tony played Barnum and, as ever, I played his assistant, Amos Scudder. It was fun but it was much harder work to produce than a regular play and a lot more nerve wracking to perform. When the mid-year musical auditions came around the next year, I just let them go by.
Anyway, since musicals are a huge part of classical Hollywood cinema, I have to embrace them somewhat for the sake of being an informed scholar. Last night Suzanne and I watched 1955's Oklahoma! It's two and a half hours long but goes a lot quicker if you fast-forward through some of the lengthier dance numbers.
While I still think the break-into-song nature of musicals is strange and I'm not likely to rush out to the theater the next time there's a Rogers and Hammerstein revival, I enjoyed the movie well enough. The leads were engaging, Rod Steiger was menacing, some of the songs were very catchy, and overall it was a fun departure from the hard-boiled world of film noir.
Because I am a sucker for pretty pictures, the best part of the film was the Cinemascope. The opening sequence that features Curly riding along side corn fields and through open spaces belting out "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" is really breathtaking. The colors on the DVD version are really vivid and the view, of course, is massive and gorgeous. I can't find the exact screencap that I want (or any good ones in color for that matter) but there were a couple of shots from the opening that feature Curly, the cornfields, the wide open country beyond, and giant, white clouds in an intense blue sky - all in one shot. You could see individual leaves on the trees, prairie grass blowing in the breeze, the curves of the clouds. The images were really wonderful.
More than anything else, those initial moments of Oklahoma! made me anxious for summer. I am done with below-zero temperatures and snow on the ground. I'm ready for some green grass and leaves on the trees. It's February now so we're in the final stretch. Once it warms up a little, you'll see me outside driving around in my surrey with a fringe on top.
I had a boss once who was a Hollywood musical aficionado. He referred to White Christmas as "the apex of musical filmmaking." Largely, he made me want to claw my own eyes out when he talked this way.
I was in a musical production in high school - Barnum, the song-and-dance version of circus master and great flim-flammer, P.T. Barnum. My friend Tony played Barnum and, as ever, I played his assistant, Amos Scudder. It was fun but it was much harder work to produce than a regular play and a lot more nerve wracking to perform. When the mid-year musical auditions came around the next year, I just let them go by.
Anyway, since musicals are a huge part of classical Hollywood cinema, I have to embrace them somewhat for the sake of being an informed scholar. Last night Suzanne and I watched 1955's Oklahoma! It's two and a half hours long but goes a lot quicker if you fast-forward through some of the lengthier dance numbers.
While I still think the break-into-song nature of musicals is strange and I'm not likely to rush out to the theater the next time there's a Rogers and Hammerstein revival, I enjoyed the movie well enough. The leads were engaging, Rod Steiger was menacing, some of the songs were very catchy, and overall it was a fun departure from the hard-boiled world of film noir.
Because I am a sucker for pretty pictures, the best part of the film was the Cinemascope. The opening sequence that features Curly riding along side corn fields and through open spaces belting out "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" is really breathtaking. The colors on the DVD version are really vivid and the view, of course, is massive and gorgeous. I can't find the exact screencap that I want (or any good ones in color for that matter) but there were a couple of shots from the opening that feature Curly, the cornfields, the wide open country beyond, and giant, white clouds in an intense blue sky - all in one shot. You could see individual leaves on the trees, prairie grass blowing in the breeze, the curves of the clouds. The images were really wonderful.
More than anything else, those initial moments of Oklahoma! made me anxious for summer. I am done with below-zero temperatures and snow on the ground. I'm ready for some green grass and leaves on the trees. It's February now so we're in the final stretch. Once it warms up a little, you'll see me outside driving around in my surrey with a fringe on top.
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