I'm in a full-blown NASCAR sulk this weekend. My driver lost his ride for next season. Patrick Carpentier is being replaced by Reed Sorenson. He'll be the third driver in the 10 car in three years.
If you sign an open-wheel specialist with a strength at road racing, and he doesn't immediately win on the ovals of NASCAR.....um...what were you expecting? And if he qualifies well, hangs with the big boys when he's running with them but loses track position in the pits....whose fault is that exactly?
*sigh*
We now return you to your regularly scheduled sulk-free day.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Some Olympic Thoughts
Now that the Olympics are over, I'm feeling decidedly idealist.
What a joy they can be. We remember, again, every two years, that even though governments do their worst and sour us against our neighbors, people are people. They're always happy to show you their culture, their heritage, their heart. They want to show the best of who they are. Sure, it's different, but isn't that okay? And in a lot of ways, aren't we alike as well? I was reminded watching the Chinese pop singers, that we're not that different even if our languages are literally worlds apart. (They like their pop stars pretty and thin too. What a concept!) We get a chance to see the beauty of a new place, the old and new of a country we may never see with our own eyes.
For two weeks the world is literally a smaller, more intimate place. If we did this more often than every two years - including Winter and Summer Games - it wouldn't have the same impact. For two weeks we can leave politics at home, and be proud of who we are and where we came from, and be proud of those who make it this far, even if they never win a medal. Remember that guy who could hardly swim four years ago, much less compete against the Michael Phelpses of the world? Remember how everybody cheered him on? Who cares where he was from? We could all get behind him. He'd struggled to get this far and he might never see another pool ever again, but we were there, rooting for him all the way. I think even Michael would cheer for him.
That's the beauty of the fact that this ideal has survived so many years, so much chaos and war and political struggle. We can root for each other, even for a short time. I love seeing athletes from different countries talking, joking around, kissing each other on the cheek, and taking pictures together, even dancing. They almost always congratulate the winners with respect and sometimes even affection. (A lot of that may have to do with the fact that some athletes train here in the States, regardless of who they compete for.)
I'm thrilled to see some Middle Eastern countries allowing women to compete. I love seeing what people are wearing during the Opening and Closing Ceremonies and their pride for their country. I even love it when the US doesn't win everything. That's perfectly okay with me, even though I'm inclined to root for the US athlete even without knowing anything about him or her. But I honestly don't care if we win the medal race. What's the big deal? It's all down to the individual. That's what's important.
Admittedly, having the Olympic spotlight on your country shows its worst as well. But for two whole weeks, we may compete as a country, but aren't you upset when someone falls or fails? Regardless of where they're from? (I remember wincing and yelping when a Chinese gymnast fell off the rings, and I was glad he got up okay.)
This may be the closest we ever come to world peace. But for at least two weeks, it feels like it's truly possible.
What a joy they can be. We remember, again, every two years, that even though governments do their worst and sour us against our neighbors, people are people. They're always happy to show you their culture, their heritage, their heart. They want to show the best of who they are. Sure, it's different, but isn't that okay? And in a lot of ways, aren't we alike as well? I was reminded watching the Chinese pop singers, that we're not that different even if our languages are literally worlds apart. (They like their pop stars pretty and thin too. What a concept!) We get a chance to see the beauty of a new place, the old and new of a country we may never see with our own eyes.
For two weeks the world is literally a smaller, more intimate place. If we did this more often than every two years - including Winter and Summer Games - it wouldn't have the same impact. For two weeks we can leave politics at home, and be proud of who we are and where we came from, and be proud of those who make it this far, even if they never win a medal. Remember that guy who could hardly swim four years ago, much less compete against the Michael Phelpses of the world? Remember how everybody cheered him on? Who cares where he was from? We could all get behind him. He'd struggled to get this far and he might never see another pool ever again, but we were there, rooting for him all the way. I think even Michael would cheer for him.
That's the beauty of the fact that this ideal has survived so many years, so much chaos and war and political struggle. We can root for each other, even for a short time. I love seeing athletes from different countries talking, joking around, kissing each other on the cheek, and taking pictures together, even dancing. They almost always congratulate the winners with respect and sometimes even affection. (A lot of that may have to do with the fact that some athletes train here in the States, regardless of who they compete for.)
I'm thrilled to see some Middle Eastern countries allowing women to compete. I love seeing what people are wearing during the Opening and Closing Ceremonies and their pride for their country. I even love it when the US doesn't win everything. That's perfectly okay with me, even though I'm inclined to root for the US athlete even without knowing anything about him or her. But I honestly don't care if we win the medal race. What's the big deal? It's all down to the individual. That's what's important.
Admittedly, having the Olympic spotlight on your country shows its worst as well. But for two whole weeks, we may compete as a country, but aren't you upset when someone falls or fails? Regardless of where they're from? (I remember wincing and yelping when a Chinese gymnast fell off the rings, and I was glad he got up okay.)
This may be the closest we ever come to world peace. But for at least two weeks, it feels like it's truly possible.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Thoughts on the Olympics
Random thoughts about the Olympics:
- The guy who announces the beach volleyball just slays me. I can't always understand everything he says, but he says it with such enthusiasm that it cracks me up. He's got that crowd hooting and hollering for their favorite team, probably in at least two languages, and he's so enthusiastic it's hilarious - he never wanes. Even in the pouring rain.
- Whenever somebody starts to cry, I get all sniffly. Whether it's gymnast Jonathan Horton's parents clutching at each other and sobbing happily at his medal or platform diver Haley Ishimatsu choking up when she didn't make it to the finals but still saying she'd had a lot of fun, I reach for tissue. I want to hug a lot of people. Even the sometimes bitter-faced Nastia Lukin. When she smiles and tears up, she's adorable. When she's got her game face on, you kind of expect her to sprinkle itching powder in your shorts.
- The parents are, in fact, some of the most fun. You can't tell me Michael Phelps' mom wasn't kind of hilarious in her own endearing way. Chris Collingsworth told Bob Costas about how during one of the races, she dug her hand into his leg so hard it hurt. She had a variety of facial expressions. I'm almost glad for her heart that his races are over; now she can relax.
- I've found it really hard to watch equestrian. Only a few events are on a TV station I get. Many are on Oxygen, which is not found on my cable network, and most of the rest are online only. Without verbal commentary. Sometimes there's a typed in commentary - complete with misspellings - and so that means you have to watch everything, lest you miss a rider you wanted to see. (Sometimes, if you're lucky, you can hear the on-course commentator, which makes things a little easier.) And you do get to hear the sounds of the game, including the riders making kissing noises to the horses over a fence. But you can't do a bunch of other things while it's on - if you want to follow it, you have to watch it. And sometimes the files are several hours long, so it's hard to keep up.
- Swimmers have no body fat and no body hair. I want one. Can I have one? Is there a spare male swimmer needing a home? I'd adopt one. I KNOW they're still in college and feeding one requires a semi truck making deliveries twice a week. I still want one.
- Nothing's creepier than realizing that had I become a teenage mother, I could have a child old enough to compete in Olympic gymnastics.
- The guy who announces the beach volleyball just slays me. I can't always understand everything he says, but he says it with such enthusiasm that it cracks me up. He's got that crowd hooting and hollering for their favorite team, probably in at least two languages, and he's so enthusiastic it's hilarious - he never wanes. Even in the pouring rain.
- Whenever somebody starts to cry, I get all sniffly. Whether it's gymnast Jonathan Horton's parents clutching at each other and sobbing happily at his medal or platform diver Haley Ishimatsu choking up when she didn't make it to the finals but still saying she'd had a lot of fun, I reach for tissue. I want to hug a lot of people. Even the sometimes bitter-faced Nastia Lukin. When she smiles and tears up, she's adorable. When she's got her game face on, you kind of expect her to sprinkle itching powder in your shorts.
- The parents are, in fact, some of the most fun. You can't tell me Michael Phelps' mom wasn't kind of hilarious in her own endearing way. Chris Collingsworth told Bob Costas about how during one of the races, she dug her hand into his leg so hard it hurt. She had a variety of facial expressions. I'm almost glad for her heart that his races are over; now she can relax.
- I've found it really hard to watch equestrian. Only a few events are on a TV station I get. Many are on Oxygen, which is not found on my cable network, and most of the rest are online only. Without verbal commentary. Sometimes there's a typed in commentary - complete with misspellings - and so that means you have to watch everything, lest you miss a rider you wanted to see. (Sometimes, if you're lucky, you can hear the on-course commentator, which makes things a little easier.) And you do get to hear the sounds of the game, including the riders making kissing noises to the horses over a fence. But you can't do a bunch of other things while it's on - if you want to follow it, you have to watch it. And sometimes the files are several hours long, so it's hard to keep up.
- Swimmers have no body fat and no body hair. I want one. Can I have one? Is there a spare male swimmer needing a home? I'd adopt one. I KNOW they're still in college and feeding one requires a semi truck making deliveries twice a week. I still want one.
- Nothing's creepier than realizing that had I become a teenage mother, I could have a child old enough to compete in Olympic gymnastics.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
The Successful Move
Over the years I've gotten good at this. I've moved people into dorms, into apartments and into houses. And out of houses into apartments. Here are my unscientific tips to a successful move after helping a friend today with a move that turned out great:
1. Hire movers. Oh wait. Not everybody can afford that or wants total strangers manhandling all their furniture. Okay, well, in the absence of 'Two Men and a Truck' here's what else I've learned.
2. Go through your stuff way ahead of time. If you can pare down the stuff, less stuff has to be hauled. You'd think this would be a big 'duh.' I can tell you I should have pared down some stuff a long time ago. But I hauled it from place to place. Ugh.
3. Have everything packed before people arrive. They are not going to pack up your stuff while it's going out the door. If it's not ready to go, they're not taking it and you'll have to take it later. I have done this on both ends - the mover and the movee. On both ends it's seriously annoying.
4. Label your boxes with the room of destination. That will really help when you have to find those cups. And it makes unpacking go much more smoothly. And it also saves your movers from stacking everything six boxes deep in what will eventually be your dining room.
5. Tell all your friends. Seriously, the more people you have to help, the quicker the whole move goes and the less exhausted all of your friends are at the end of the day. They might even stay to help you unpack. Today's move went great because a ton of people showed up. That really helped when a couple of the guys faced the dilemma of getting a huge sofa out of the house and then into the apartment. We had enough people that we got a lot done while they handled that sticky situation and we were done by 1:00. So if you can get a bunch of heavy lifters to take the big furniture, even better.
6. Have available at the old house and haul to the new house: ziploc baggies for nuts and bolts, duct tape, an entire and comprehensive tool kit with screwdrivers of all sizes, paper towels, and cleaning materials.
7. Make sure you have the following items at the new home: toilet paper in all bathrooms, bottled water in the fridge that is already ice cold, cups and plates and napkins, and something snacky.
8. Know where you want your furniture before it comes in the front door. Or expect to move it on your own later. Dithering about where something is going to go when it's heavy means your mover is going to set it down wherever and you're going to have to move it yourself. Today's move didn't face that at all - by the time the sofa arrived we knew where it was going to go.
9. Feed your movers. Beer and pizza are popular.
Anything I've missed? Any tips? Horror stories? Stories of success?
Now I'm going to take a nap.
1. Hire movers. Oh wait. Not everybody can afford that or wants total strangers manhandling all their furniture. Okay, well, in the absence of 'Two Men and a Truck' here's what else I've learned.
2. Go through your stuff way ahead of time. If you can pare down the stuff, less stuff has to be hauled. You'd think this would be a big 'duh.' I can tell you I should have pared down some stuff a long time ago. But I hauled it from place to place. Ugh.
3. Have everything packed before people arrive. They are not going to pack up your stuff while it's going out the door. If it's not ready to go, they're not taking it and you'll have to take it later. I have done this on both ends - the mover and the movee. On both ends it's seriously annoying.
4. Label your boxes with the room of destination. That will really help when you have to find those cups. And it makes unpacking go much more smoothly. And it also saves your movers from stacking everything six boxes deep in what will eventually be your dining room.
5. Tell all your friends. Seriously, the more people you have to help, the quicker the whole move goes and the less exhausted all of your friends are at the end of the day. They might even stay to help you unpack. Today's move went great because a ton of people showed up. That really helped when a couple of the guys faced the dilemma of getting a huge sofa out of the house and then into the apartment. We had enough people that we got a lot done while they handled that sticky situation and we were done by 1:00. So if you can get a bunch of heavy lifters to take the big furniture, even better.
6. Have available at the old house and haul to the new house: ziploc baggies for nuts and bolts, duct tape, an entire and comprehensive tool kit with screwdrivers of all sizes, paper towels, and cleaning materials.
7. Make sure you have the following items at the new home: toilet paper in all bathrooms, bottled water in the fridge that is already ice cold, cups and plates and napkins, and something snacky.
8. Know where you want your furniture before it comes in the front door. Or expect to move it on your own later. Dithering about where something is going to go when it's heavy means your mover is going to set it down wherever and you're going to have to move it yourself. Today's move didn't face that at all - by the time the sofa arrived we knew where it was going to go.
9. Feed your movers. Beer and pizza are popular.
Anything I've missed? Any tips? Horror stories? Stories of success?
Now I'm going to take a nap.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Movie Review: X-Files: I Want to Believe
I wanted to like this movie. I really did. I gave it every opportunity to wow me, to bring on a sense of recollection, to slip me an in-joke. Instead, it just grossed me out and left me sorely disappointed.
When we rejoin our favorite FBI agents, Scully is working as a doctor in a Catholic hospital and clashing with one of the Fathers about the treatment of a dying boy (named Christian, in a obviously heavy metaphor). And Mulder is clipping articles from newspapers, tacking them up in a little room, and not shaving.
The FBI decides it wants Mulder back to help with an investigation into an agent's disappearance, and sends Agent Mosley Drummy (rapper/actor Xzibit) to seek out Scully. She's no longer working with Mulder or the FBI, but she dutifully tells Mulder that they need his help with a psychic priest (Billy Connolly) who claims to have visions of the missing agent and clues into a mutilated arm found in the snow. Mulder gets pulled into the case, which involves missing women, body parts, and Callum Keith Rennie doing his creepy best with a Russian accent.
This movie wants desperately to be a love story about Mulder and Scully, and it wants to be a story about faith and belief and reason. Instead, it comes off as a muddled mess. I never figured out if Mulder and Scully are actually living together - they're in a relationship, obviously, which also I find offputting, as I liked them better in their chaste courtship, but Scully walks into Mulder's house hesitantly. She doesn't knock, but she doesn't act like she lives there either. And while David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson are excellent in these worn old roles and both look great, the change in their relationship and the circumstances in which they find themselves seem strained. They have chemistry, but I don't need to see them making out or snuggling in bed. That's never what their relationship was about during the show. Mulder making dirty jokes at Scully feels awkward and a little surreal.
Scully is having an awkward crisis of faith and wants to condemn Father Crissman - the psychic priest - for his bad deeds; Mulder wants to believe him; Agent Dakota Whitney (Amanda Peet) doesn't know what to do. I never did figure out what her role was. Does she believe, like Mulder does? Or is she grasping at straws? Mulder and Scully have their old battle about belief and reason, and yet it feels stilted and old hat, like the characters should have moved beyond this, especially if they're sleeping together. (If they hadn't seen each other in a long time, then yes, I might have bought this. But none of this is ever clear, and it sure isn't the fault of any of the actors. Everyone cast does as good a job as they can. It's the script that fails them.)
This movie also wants desperately to appeal to those who don't know the show AND to those who do. But you have to pick one. Xzibit and Peet do the best they can with minimal roles - we could probably have done without both of them, honestly - but nothing really looks familiar to us. I don't recognize the halls Mulder and Scully walk at the FBI, or any of the agents. In fact, by the time we get one familiar face (and just one, if you don't count Rennie, who was originally up for the role of Krycek and later did two episodes of the show) it seems like the writers are pandering to the old Phile crowd. Like, look at this! You know this person!
That's the only in-joke we get. There's a reference to William, Scully and Mulder's son, and to Samantha, Mulder's sister, but the latter feels like a retread, because that issue felt resolved to me after the show had ended. To have it referenced in this movie felt like another moment to appease long-time fans, but instead it feels tacked on, to explain who Mulder is. But don't most people who would see this movie already know who he is and what spurs him? How many people are going to stumble into the theater without ever having seen the show?
Part of the problem is the fact that the show went on too long - probably two whole seasons - and killed off a lot of the charismatic characters we came to know and love or hate. The Lone Gunmen, Cancer Man, Krycek, Well-Manicured Man, Mr X, Deep Throat - all of them are missing. We don't even get Kersch. So the movie feels like a shadow of what the X-Files used to be.
And the story itself is gruesome and violent. I know the X-Files did some pretty horrific things over the course of the show, but this just seemed way too overdone - too slasher film. I covered my eyes several times and I found it uncomfortable in a way I couldn't easily put aside.
The movie also hands us a huge plot hole - Scully puts her faith in a science that the Catholic church has been vocal about rejecting in the real world. Yet in the movie that's not what the church is objecting to - it's upset that Scully wants to try to save this boy when they feel he should be left to die in peace. So we watch Scully wrestle with what she's doing - is she saving him? Is she making him into William? Is she causing him unnecessary pain? Does she believe in God or not? Her faith takes a beating but never feels real to me - it feels forced and heavy-handed from the beginning, when fans are used to a much more subtle treatment of her issues of faith (watch "Revelations" instead). In short, I missed the little green men.
Animals: Large dogs take a lot of abuse in the last third of this movie - they are shown mutilated in pictures and Mulder seriously wounds one who attacks him. I found this very disturbing on top of the violence done to the people. I actually considered walking out.
Overall: This movie felt like a X-Files film made by somebody who only knew a little bit about the show, and who wanted to gross us out with a slasher film. I was seriously disappointed, and while it was nice to see familiar characters, the plotline and the main characters' relationship has gone beyond the point of being either interesting or comfortable. I give it two roses out of five, and one of those roses is strictly because of the cast. Grab a DVD of Seasons Two or Three again and skip the film.
When we rejoin our favorite FBI agents, Scully is working as a doctor in a Catholic hospital and clashing with one of the Fathers about the treatment of a dying boy (named Christian, in a obviously heavy metaphor). And Mulder is clipping articles from newspapers, tacking them up in a little room, and not shaving.
The FBI decides it wants Mulder back to help with an investigation into an agent's disappearance, and sends Agent Mosley Drummy (rapper/actor Xzibit) to seek out Scully. She's no longer working with Mulder or the FBI, but she dutifully tells Mulder that they need his help with a psychic priest (Billy Connolly) who claims to have visions of the missing agent and clues into a mutilated arm found in the snow. Mulder gets pulled into the case, which involves missing women, body parts, and Callum Keith Rennie doing his creepy best with a Russian accent.
This movie wants desperately to be a love story about Mulder and Scully, and it wants to be a story about faith and belief and reason. Instead, it comes off as a muddled mess. I never figured out if Mulder and Scully are actually living together - they're in a relationship, obviously, which also I find offputting, as I liked them better in their chaste courtship, but Scully walks into Mulder's house hesitantly. She doesn't knock, but she doesn't act like she lives there either. And while David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson are excellent in these worn old roles and both look great, the change in their relationship and the circumstances in which they find themselves seem strained. They have chemistry, but I don't need to see them making out or snuggling in bed. That's never what their relationship was about during the show. Mulder making dirty jokes at Scully feels awkward and a little surreal.
Scully is having an awkward crisis of faith and wants to condemn Father Crissman - the psychic priest - for his bad deeds; Mulder wants to believe him; Agent Dakota Whitney (Amanda Peet) doesn't know what to do. I never did figure out what her role was. Does she believe, like Mulder does? Or is she grasping at straws? Mulder and Scully have their old battle about belief and reason, and yet it feels stilted and old hat, like the characters should have moved beyond this, especially if they're sleeping together. (If they hadn't seen each other in a long time, then yes, I might have bought this. But none of this is ever clear, and it sure isn't the fault of any of the actors. Everyone cast does as good a job as they can. It's the script that fails them.)
This movie also wants desperately to appeal to those who don't know the show AND to those who do. But you have to pick one. Xzibit and Peet do the best they can with minimal roles - we could probably have done without both of them, honestly - but nothing really looks familiar to us. I don't recognize the halls Mulder and Scully walk at the FBI, or any of the agents. In fact, by the time we get one familiar face (and just one, if you don't count Rennie, who was originally up for the role of Krycek and later did two episodes of the show) it seems like the writers are pandering to the old Phile crowd. Like, look at this! You know this person!
That's the only in-joke we get. There's a reference to William, Scully and Mulder's son, and to Samantha, Mulder's sister, but the latter feels like a retread, because that issue felt resolved to me after the show had ended. To have it referenced in this movie felt like another moment to appease long-time fans, but instead it feels tacked on, to explain who Mulder is. But don't most people who would see this movie already know who he is and what spurs him? How many people are going to stumble into the theater without ever having seen the show?
Part of the problem is the fact that the show went on too long - probably two whole seasons - and killed off a lot of the charismatic characters we came to know and love or hate. The Lone Gunmen, Cancer Man, Krycek, Well-Manicured Man, Mr X, Deep Throat - all of them are missing. We don't even get Kersch. So the movie feels like a shadow of what the X-Files used to be.
And the story itself is gruesome and violent. I know the X-Files did some pretty horrific things over the course of the show, but this just seemed way too overdone - too slasher film. I covered my eyes several times and I found it uncomfortable in a way I couldn't easily put aside.
The movie also hands us a huge plot hole - Scully puts her faith in a science that the Catholic church has been vocal about rejecting in the real world. Yet in the movie that's not what the church is objecting to - it's upset that Scully wants to try to save this boy when they feel he should be left to die in peace. So we watch Scully wrestle with what she's doing - is she saving him? Is she making him into William? Is she causing him unnecessary pain? Does she believe in God or not? Her faith takes a beating but never feels real to me - it feels forced and heavy-handed from the beginning, when fans are used to a much more subtle treatment of her issues of faith (watch "Revelations" instead). In short, I missed the little green men.
Animals: Large dogs take a lot of abuse in the last third of this movie - they are shown mutilated in pictures and Mulder seriously wounds one who attacks him. I found this very disturbing on top of the violence done to the people. I actually considered walking out.
Overall: This movie felt like a X-Files film made by somebody who only knew a little bit about the show, and who wanted to gross us out with a slasher film. I was seriously disappointed, and while it was nice to see familiar characters, the plotline and the main characters' relationship has gone beyond the point of being either interesting or comfortable. I give it two roses out of five, and one of those roses is strictly because of the cast. Grab a DVD of Seasons Two or Three again and skip the film.
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