Liz did this recently, and I thought there were enough strange text messages in my cell phone to follow suit. These are some of the random text messages I have sent and received that make absolutely no sense if you weren't a part of the conversation. Which is sometimes more fun.
"I just rode a horse bareback on a high school auditorium stage."
"Karma, bitch."
"Chocolate shelf is very important."
"I wouldn't touch you with a plastic one. Why're you on the floor?"
"We are doing good. Still electricity. The squirrel that bit you is under water."
"Here, there, and everywhere. Hip, hip, so hip to be square."
"I just saw your drag queen doppelganger. I think her name is Glitter Diamond and she's amazing."
"Gpwajtdm."
Have a great night, lovelies! Shalom
Monday, November 05, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
One Final Note
Here it is. The final installment of the chronicle of the New York trip. I hope you've enjoyed reading so far, and I promise to get the pictures up soon.
Day Five: Monday.
Monday morning it was raining, but I didn't realize how much it was raining until I started leaving the apartment. I went down the stairs but when I got to the landing I saw rain pouring down outside the building, and so I went back into the apartment to grab the umbrella that luckily Blaine pointed out to me a few days before (only because it has this cool telescopic plastic cover that you can unfold when you go inside so it doesn't drip everywhere). It was really raining. Like, torrentially. (Broadstairs, anyone?) I shared the umbrella with a woman and her small daughter walking across the street to the train station where I took the train to Chelsea to get onto the High Line.
This is the High Line: http://www.thehighline.org/. It's absolutely beautiful, and because it was still raining when I got there there was nobody around. I got a couple of really good pictures in before others started showing up. It stopped raining about ten minutes after I got there, and it warmed up pretty quickly, but I still didn't see a huge number of people (probably because it was Monday). I walked the whole thing, and I just thought about how beautiful it was and how much Mom would like it. I stopped for a while to read and then continued on to the end of the Line, which ends up in the Village.
I wandered around the Village for a while, looking for a present for my roommate Lorayne. I was unsuccessful, but I did stop in a pet shop to get something for Stanley. I chatted with the owner, and he thought I was a local, which was extremely satisfactory, but he also wanted me to come back and tell him how Stanley liked the food I bought him. I felt bad not telling him I was from out of town, but I enjoy the feeling of belonging, so I didn't mention it. I then walked around until I found Stonewall Inn, the site of the beginning of the gay and lesbian rights. There had been police raids at gay bars all around New York in the past, but one night the people fought back and made history with the Stonewall Riots. Now gay and lesbian history is really divided between Before and After Stonewall. It was really quiet because it was about 2pm on a Monday afternoon, but I ordered myself a cranberry juice and just sat within the bar for a while, thinking, writing, and feeling the rich history of the place. It was smaller than I imagined, and I could just picture it full of people. For some reason the bartender reminded me of someone (she was very nice and she looked familiar), and we were watching music videos on TV (and after a while I thought "can't we get some sports on in here?"). There were a few older men there, and I wondered how long they had been coming. How many years had they been going to the bar? Before the riots? After? Were they involved? It was just a really cool experience to be there.
That evening Blaine and I met up and went to the 9/11 memorial, which was absolutely lovely. It was a beautiful time of day (around 6pm) and the fountains and gardens they built in the place of the two towers is a lovely tribute to the people who lost their lives. The fountains are set in the footprints of the fallen Towers and have all the names of those on the planes, in the emergency service crews, and working in the Towers. The water flowing down into the lower square has an amazing pleated effect, and it's a very appropriate and touching memorial.
That night we did not go out, but spent the night at home, eating leftovers and playing Whirly Word on my iPad. It was another enjoyable, relaxing day, though a bit sad because I knew I had only one day left. But what a day that last day was.
Day Six: Tuesday.
Early in the morning I couldn't sleep, so I composed a poem then fell back asleep until late morning. It was my last day, and I had a few places I wanted to go, but it was all pretty low key. I made my way to the New York Public Library (the Schwarzman building), which is an amazingly beautiful building. I was getting pretty tired of all the noise and smoke and people, so it was nice to be somewhere cool and quiet. They had a really interesting exhibit downstairs about the history of hot lunches, from the first restaurants to automats to fast food. Then I went upstairs to the reading room where I just sat and read "War and Peace" in the beautiful, book-filled, dark wood room. It was incredible.
Then I walked to Grand Central Station where there is absolutely nowhere to sit in the main concourse, so I went down to the dining concourse and got myself a wildberry rhubarb sorbet (which was ridiculously delicious) and thought back on the week: how people have been really nice, no one has been rude or crabby to me. How my attitude has been that people are just people, and that no one is out there trying to deliberately hurt me so I've never felt unsafe. I had a wonderful time and talked with some really interesting people, saw some lovely and fascinating things, and had my fill of adventures.
After going to the Station I finally, finally found a post office to buy some postcard stamps, then walked around Midtown up Lexington and Madison to the edge of Central Park South. There I sat and read for a while and met another squirrel. It jumped onto the bench I was sitting on, but I was all "uh uh, no way, not again" and it jumped off and ran away.
I then made my way down to Times Square and the Brooks Atkinson Theatre to enter the lottery to try and get a ticket to see "Peter and the Starcatcher." There were quite a few people there to try and get tickets, but I found a nice older woman named Ruth who I convinced to put in her name for two tickets instead of just one, and I did the same. It turned out to be a really good idea, because her name was called, and not mine, so we both got a ticket, and good tickets at that. They were several rows back on the house right section and we had a great view. Before the show and during intermission we talked, and she teaches a Tai Chi class down in Florida where she lives, so we talked about that for a while, and my interest and plans in theatre. It was nice. The lottery was a couple hours before the show, so I called Blaine and we met up to have dinner before the show. He had a meeting that night so he couldn't join me for the play, but we shared a delicious felafel sandwich thing and talked about our days. While I was waiting for him I was sitting outside the Marriot lobby and saw two couples walking by: the women were wearing dress suits and hats, and the men were in full dress kilt. I approved.
"Peter and the Starcatcher" was incredible. I've never read the book the play is based on, being a bit of a Peter Pan purist, but I loved the play. It was a fun, creative prequel to the Peter Pan story without taking away from the original. It does not match up with J.M. Barrie's prequel stories, but it didn't need to. It didn't try to be the definitive story but just one story, and it was very imaginative script. It was a little predictable toward the end, but it was a wonderful show with a great cast. The guy who played the Black Stache was hilarious, and the girl who played Molly was incredible. The guy who played the Boy (Peter) was good, but there wasn't a lot of opportunity for him to really shine. The character is written as a pretty sullen, isolated boy for much of the play, so it wasn't until the end you really got to see his talent. But the ensemble was amazing (especially Ted) and the whole show was beautiful. One of my favourite lines from the play was, "He may have wished to be alone, but he didn't really mean it." It was a wonderful experience, and I am so glad I was able to see it.
After the show I was so happy and full of life I wanted to do something fun and, probably because of the whole Peter Pan flying thing, I wanted to be up high. So Blaine came and met me and we wandered around for a while, talking about what we should do. We didn't have a clue, but we did find a restaurant that served cheesecake, and since I hadn't had any cheesecake in New York, we stopped and got some. It was not very good at all, and the waiters kept ignoring us so it took us forever to get out of there. I was seriously considering leaving without paying, but we waited and found someone and paid our check. We then walked into a Sheraton Inn and went right into the elevator and rode it to the top, but the hotel wasn't very tall and it didn't have a very good view, so we just went back to Blaine's apartment. We went up onto the roof of his building, where it was warm and bright, and just talked for a long time about secrets and dreams. It was a wonderful last night of an unforgettable trip, and it was marvelous to see Blaine and spend time with him.
Overall it was a fabulous vacation, taking time away from work and spending time with a good friend. I don't know if I could ever live in the city; it's a little too noisy and crowded, though there are plenty of parks. Blaine thinks I could live in Brooklyn, and maybe I will someday, but right now it's just not for me. I did have a wonderful time visiting, and I would love to go again in the future, but for now I'm glad to be home. Thanks for taking time to read about my New York adventures! Shalom!
Day Five: Monday.
Monday morning it was raining, but I didn't realize how much it was raining until I started leaving the apartment. I went down the stairs but when I got to the landing I saw rain pouring down outside the building, and so I went back into the apartment to grab the umbrella that luckily Blaine pointed out to me a few days before (only because it has this cool telescopic plastic cover that you can unfold when you go inside so it doesn't drip everywhere). It was really raining. Like, torrentially. (Broadstairs, anyone?) I shared the umbrella with a woman and her small daughter walking across the street to the train station where I took the train to Chelsea to get onto the High Line.
This is the High Line: http://www.thehighline.org/. It's absolutely beautiful, and because it was still raining when I got there there was nobody around. I got a couple of really good pictures in before others started showing up. It stopped raining about ten minutes after I got there, and it warmed up pretty quickly, but I still didn't see a huge number of people (probably because it was Monday). I walked the whole thing, and I just thought about how beautiful it was and how much Mom would like it. I stopped for a while to read and then continued on to the end of the Line, which ends up in the Village.
I wandered around the Village for a while, looking for a present for my roommate Lorayne. I was unsuccessful, but I did stop in a pet shop to get something for Stanley. I chatted with the owner, and he thought I was a local, which was extremely satisfactory, but he also wanted me to come back and tell him how Stanley liked the food I bought him. I felt bad not telling him I was from out of town, but I enjoy the feeling of belonging, so I didn't mention it. I then walked around until I found Stonewall Inn, the site of the beginning of the gay and lesbian rights. There had been police raids at gay bars all around New York in the past, but one night the people fought back and made history with the Stonewall Riots. Now gay and lesbian history is really divided between Before and After Stonewall. It was really quiet because it was about 2pm on a Monday afternoon, but I ordered myself a cranberry juice and just sat within the bar for a while, thinking, writing, and feeling the rich history of the place. It was smaller than I imagined, and I could just picture it full of people. For some reason the bartender reminded me of someone (she was very nice and she looked familiar), and we were watching music videos on TV (and after a while I thought "can't we get some sports on in here?"). There were a few older men there, and I wondered how long they had been coming. How many years had they been going to the bar? Before the riots? After? Were they involved? It was just a really cool experience to be there.
That evening Blaine and I met up and went to the 9/11 memorial, which was absolutely lovely. It was a beautiful time of day (around 6pm) and the fountains and gardens they built in the place of the two towers is a lovely tribute to the people who lost their lives. The fountains are set in the footprints of the fallen Towers and have all the names of those on the planes, in the emergency service crews, and working in the Towers. The water flowing down into the lower square has an amazing pleated effect, and it's a very appropriate and touching memorial.
That night we did not go out, but spent the night at home, eating leftovers and playing Whirly Word on my iPad. It was another enjoyable, relaxing day, though a bit sad because I knew I had only one day left. But what a day that last day was.
Day Six: Tuesday.
Early in the morning I couldn't sleep, so I composed a poem then fell back asleep until late morning. It was my last day, and I had a few places I wanted to go, but it was all pretty low key. I made my way to the New York Public Library (the Schwarzman building), which is an amazingly beautiful building. I was getting pretty tired of all the noise and smoke and people, so it was nice to be somewhere cool and quiet. They had a really interesting exhibit downstairs about the history of hot lunches, from the first restaurants to automats to fast food. Then I went upstairs to the reading room where I just sat and read "War and Peace" in the beautiful, book-filled, dark wood room. It was incredible.
Then I walked to Grand Central Station where there is absolutely nowhere to sit in the main concourse, so I went down to the dining concourse and got myself a wildberry rhubarb sorbet (which was ridiculously delicious) and thought back on the week: how people have been really nice, no one has been rude or crabby to me. How my attitude has been that people are just people, and that no one is out there trying to deliberately hurt me so I've never felt unsafe. I had a wonderful time and talked with some really interesting people, saw some lovely and fascinating things, and had my fill of adventures.
After going to the Station I finally, finally found a post office to buy some postcard stamps, then walked around Midtown up Lexington and Madison to the edge of Central Park South. There I sat and read for a while and met another squirrel. It jumped onto the bench I was sitting on, but I was all "uh uh, no way, not again" and it jumped off and ran away.
I then made my way down to Times Square and the Brooks Atkinson Theatre to enter the lottery to try and get a ticket to see "Peter and the Starcatcher." There were quite a few people there to try and get tickets, but I found a nice older woman named Ruth who I convinced to put in her name for two tickets instead of just one, and I did the same. It turned out to be a really good idea, because her name was called, and not mine, so we both got a ticket, and good tickets at that. They were several rows back on the house right section and we had a great view. Before the show and during intermission we talked, and she teaches a Tai Chi class down in Florida where she lives, so we talked about that for a while, and my interest and plans in theatre. It was nice. The lottery was a couple hours before the show, so I called Blaine and we met up to have dinner before the show. He had a meeting that night so he couldn't join me for the play, but we shared a delicious felafel sandwich thing and talked about our days. While I was waiting for him I was sitting outside the Marriot lobby and saw two couples walking by: the women were wearing dress suits and hats, and the men were in full dress kilt. I approved.
"Peter and the Starcatcher" was incredible. I've never read the book the play is based on, being a bit of a Peter Pan purist, but I loved the play. It was a fun, creative prequel to the Peter Pan story without taking away from the original. It does not match up with J.M. Barrie's prequel stories, but it didn't need to. It didn't try to be the definitive story but just one story, and it was very imaginative script. It was a little predictable toward the end, but it was a wonderful show with a great cast. The guy who played the Black Stache was hilarious, and the girl who played Molly was incredible. The guy who played the Boy (Peter) was good, but there wasn't a lot of opportunity for him to really shine. The character is written as a pretty sullen, isolated boy for much of the play, so it wasn't until the end you really got to see his talent. But the ensemble was amazing (especially Ted) and the whole show was beautiful. One of my favourite lines from the play was, "He may have wished to be alone, but he didn't really mean it." It was a wonderful experience, and I am so glad I was able to see it.
After the show I was so happy and full of life I wanted to do something fun and, probably because of the whole Peter Pan flying thing, I wanted to be up high. So Blaine came and met me and we wandered around for a while, talking about what we should do. We didn't have a clue, but we did find a restaurant that served cheesecake, and since I hadn't had any cheesecake in New York, we stopped and got some. It was not very good at all, and the waiters kept ignoring us so it took us forever to get out of there. I was seriously considering leaving without paying, but we waited and found someone and paid our check. We then walked into a Sheraton Inn and went right into the elevator and rode it to the top, but the hotel wasn't very tall and it didn't have a very good view, so we just went back to Blaine's apartment. We went up onto the roof of his building, where it was warm and bright, and just talked for a long time about secrets and dreams. It was a wonderful last night of an unforgettable trip, and it was marvelous to see Blaine and spend time with him.
Overall it was a fabulous vacation, taking time away from work and spending time with a good friend. I don't know if I could ever live in the city; it's a little too noisy and crowded, though there are plenty of parks. Blaine thinks I could live in Brooklyn, and maybe I will someday, but right now it's just not for me. I did have a wonderful time visiting, and I would love to go again in the future, but for now I'm glad to be home. Thanks for taking time to read about my New York adventures! Shalom!
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Take II
I'm back! Sorry it took so long. I had a ridiculously busy weekend and then I've been gone camping with Mom and Ray, so I haven't had a chance to write. But now I'm finally continuing the chronicle of my New York trip.
Day Three: Saturday.
This turned out to be the most interesting day of the trip, though that wasn't my intention. After walking everywhere Thursday and Friday my hip was giving me pain, so I decided to take it easy for the morning (aka afternoon, since I don't think I left the house till noon). I took the train all the way down to South Ferry, where the ferry leaves to go to Ellis and Liberty Island. I wanted to get some cash, finally find some postcard stamps, and then just sit in Battery Park and read for a while.
Unfortunately, nothing happened the way I planned. I went to a Duane Reade (which is the pharmacy in New York; it's like Starbucks in San Francisco. There's one on every corner.), where it turns out I couldn't get cash back. I did get a compliment on my haircut, but no money. So then as I continued up the street, I finally found a post office. But because it was Saturday, there was no counter open, nor was there a stamp vending machine. So now stamps and no cash. I did get some money at a bank (because USAA is awesome and pays ATM fees back) and so I walked to Battery Park to relax and read. However, this plan was also soon foiled.
I sat down on a bench and starting watching tourists getting on the ferry, snacking on some almonds. I was there barely five minutes when a squirrel approached me. I shook my head and told it politely that I was not planning on feeding it, but this did not satisfy. The squirrel promptly jumped onto the bench, into my lap, and proceeded to try and enter the bag of almonds my hand was in. Not wanting to let the squirrel eat my almonds, I attempted to shoo it away. It would not be shooed. It persisted in trying to get into the bag, or at least chew holes into it, which I would not allow. People were walking by, and then were stopping and taking pictures of my struggle with the squirrel. One man asked me for an almond so he could feed it, and I refused. I did not want to perpetuate the trend of aggressive animals. One girl asked me if she could take a video. She said, "You're so calm. I would be freaking out." And while I agree that I maintained a level of composure, after about five minutes during which the squirrel actually did chew a hole in the bag of almonds, I was ready to be squirrel-free. So I picked up the squirrel by its middle and moved it off my lap, during which it nibbled on my finger. I stuffed the almonds in my bag and the squirrel, finally thwarted, ran away.
While I was attempting to regain a more solid sense of reality, I realized the finger the squirrel bit was actually bleeding. I rinsed it off with water from my bottle, but the bleeding would not stop. So I started walking around the park trying to find a way to clean my wound (which wasn't that big; I have no idea how it bled so much). The bathroom at the ferry had, of course, a long line, so I went into the bookstore and asked if they had a first aid kit, which oddly enough, they did not. There was a police car idling, but all of the windows were blacked out and I couldn't even tell if there was anyone inside, and since I didn't want to knock on the window because that seemed sketchy, so I went across the street to the Museum of the American Indian. I went inside and asked the guard if they had a first aid kit I could use, as I had been bitten by a squirrel. He gave me a funny look, but called downstairs and told me they had one I could use, and that someone would bring me something shortly. It took me a ridiculous amount of time to find downstairs, because I kept going down the wrong corridor. Once I did, however, there was a guard who, after I told him what I was needing, told me I could sit and wait while the sergeant brought me some alcohol swabs and antibacterial hand wipes. So then of course he asked what happened, and when I told him, he was very surprised. I told him the story and he thought it was hilarious and strange, because apparently no one had ever heard of anyone being bitten by a squirrel before. He started telling the other guards about what happened, and soon I was recounting the story to them all, making clear I was not feeding the squirrel, but rather it aggressively approached me while I was just trying to relax and eat my almonds. I found I adopted a tiny bit of an accent while I was speaking with the guards; it gave me a certain amount of pleasure they didn't take for granted I was a tourist. Then the sergeant came and we joked about turning into a were-squirrel while I cleaned and bandaged my wound. They said several times I should get a rabies shot, and while I was reluctant (I really didn't think it was that big of a deal), they finally convinced me it would be better to be safe than sorry. Blaine texted me about this time to let me know he was done with work and on his way, so I waited for him to arrive, and when he did I told the whole story all over again.
Agreeing that it would be better to get a rabies shot than take the chance of my dying from a squirrel bite, we decided to try a Duane Reade and see if they offered rabies shots. We went to the same one I had no luck getting cash back at, where we were informed by the pharmacy that they did not give rabies shots, nor was it likely a doctor's office would carry them. We then decided to find a hospital, which for some reason proved more difficult than it ought to have been. We asked a female police officer, and she pointed us in the right direction, though she couldn't remember the name of the street. We did find it, by randomly taking the street we thought looked promising, and talked about 9/11, since the site was very close to where we were. We realized the hospital I went to was probably very busy on that day, and it was interesting to reflect on what it must have been like.
At the hospital we went to the emergency room, which was not nearly as busy as I thought it would be. We were there for about an hour and a half, and the woman who took down my insurance information was very, very nice. (I had brought my insurance card along with me that day, for no particular reason. Thank you foresight. And probably God.) The man who cleaned me up and re-bandaged my finger was also very nice, although he accidentally stabbed my hand while he was trying to cut off the fabric bandage from the museum. The hospital did not give me a rabies shot, having never heard of a case of rabies in a squirrel, but sent me off with a prescription for antibiotics, which I filled at good old Rite Aid (since I had filled there before, but let me tell you, it was difficult to find one in the sea of Duane Reades).
We took it easy that evening, after a crazy afternoon, and ate burgers at some place near Times Square, because we had tickets to see "Clybourne Park." If you know nothing about the play (as I did not), here is a link to a New York Times article about the production: http://theater.nytimes.com/2012/04/20/theater/reviews/clybourne-park-by-bruce-norris-at-walter-kerr-theater.html?_r=0. Although I would disagree with some of the article's main points. I liked the script for the most part, but I did not care for the majority of the actors. I did like Sarah Goldberg and Jeremy Shamos, but none of the other actors seemed particularly realistic. In some cases I don't think the part was written very well, but sometimes the actor would affect a certain physical characteristic that was completely distracting. I did like the parallels between the first and second act, when one character in the second half would repeat a line another character said in the first. However, with some plays it's difficult to ascertain a playwright's choices and purpose. In some cases an author has a specific agenda, and in others she just wants to bring attention to an issue. Gentrification and racism are still huge issues, particularly in the United States, but I wasn't sure what the playwright's final motivation for writing the play was. It was an interesting show, and it sparked lively conversation between Blaine and I and I'm sure other patrons, but it was not the best show I've seen.
This has become a much longer entry than I imagined (that darn squirrel), but Sunday was pretty mellow, so I'll wrap it up with a quick summary of that day's adventures.
Day Four: Sunday.
Blaine had Sunday off from work, so we did the two things I asked him specifically to join me in: go to the Natural History Museum, and walk across the Brooklyn Bridge (and we have good pictures, I promise. I'll get them up soon). On our way to the museum, we walked across Amsterdam Street, and discovered there was a street fair going on, so we walked up and down the fairly uncrowded street. That was one of those things tourists wouldn't necessarily know about, so it was mostly locals, and not that many people at that. I found my gift for Cat (some fresh passion fruit tea that she says was amazing) and looked at all the other interesting wares. There was a cotton candy truck (hallelujah) but we waited till after the museum to come back so I could get some.
The museum was wonderful, of course: lots of dead animals and weird historical recreations, and of course DINOSAURS. I had a blast and we spent a good chunk of the afternoon there. I did not go to the spiders exhibit because it cost extra, which is a shame because I just read an article on CNN about it. Oh well. But then we decided to go into Brooklyn and walk around before we went on the bridge. We went to Prospect Park (potato salad!) where I tried to find a bridge like the one they dumped Buzzy Bellew's body off of, but did not find one. We walked a long ways and saw a lot of people out playing and having picnics. It's always nice to see people out having fun and laughing in the sunshine when we're so technologically-centered these days. But the park is beautiful because it's huge (almost 600 acres!) and when you're in the middle of it you can't even tell you're in the city anymore. You can't see any buildings, just grass and trees and blue skies.
Then we took the train back into Manhattan so we could walk across the bridge back into Brooklyn (I'm not sure why, but it was a really good idea) and it was gorgeous. We crossed it at the perfect time of day (about 6:30pm) and although parts are under construction and the view is obstructed, there are still plenty of places to look out at the city and Liberty island. It was lovely. We then had dinner at a delicious pizza place called Ignazio's, wandered around by the river, then took the train into the Village where we walked around for a bit before heading home to eat Ben and Jerry's. It was a fun, interesting, and fairly peaceful day, which was just what we both needed. It was great to spend time together and catch up, which is really why I went in the first place. So mission accomplished.
Only two more days to write about, but they're full ones, so I'll try to get them up soon! Ciao till then!
Day Three: Saturday.
This turned out to be the most interesting day of the trip, though that wasn't my intention. After walking everywhere Thursday and Friday my hip was giving me pain, so I decided to take it easy for the morning (aka afternoon, since I don't think I left the house till noon). I took the train all the way down to South Ferry, where the ferry leaves to go to Ellis and Liberty Island. I wanted to get some cash, finally find some postcard stamps, and then just sit in Battery Park and read for a while.
Unfortunately, nothing happened the way I planned. I went to a Duane Reade (which is the pharmacy in New York; it's like Starbucks in San Francisco. There's one on every corner.), where it turns out I couldn't get cash back. I did get a compliment on my haircut, but no money. So then as I continued up the street, I finally found a post office. But because it was Saturday, there was no counter open, nor was there a stamp vending machine. So now stamps and no cash. I did get some money at a bank (because USAA is awesome and pays ATM fees back) and so I walked to Battery Park to relax and read. However, this plan was also soon foiled.
I sat down on a bench and starting watching tourists getting on the ferry, snacking on some almonds. I was there barely five minutes when a squirrel approached me. I shook my head and told it politely that I was not planning on feeding it, but this did not satisfy. The squirrel promptly jumped onto the bench, into my lap, and proceeded to try and enter the bag of almonds my hand was in. Not wanting to let the squirrel eat my almonds, I attempted to shoo it away. It would not be shooed. It persisted in trying to get into the bag, or at least chew holes into it, which I would not allow. People were walking by, and then were stopping and taking pictures of my struggle with the squirrel. One man asked me for an almond so he could feed it, and I refused. I did not want to perpetuate the trend of aggressive animals. One girl asked me if she could take a video. She said, "You're so calm. I would be freaking out." And while I agree that I maintained a level of composure, after about five minutes during which the squirrel actually did chew a hole in the bag of almonds, I was ready to be squirrel-free. So I picked up the squirrel by its middle and moved it off my lap, during which it nibbled on my finger. I stuffed the almonds in my bag and the squirrel, finally thwarted, ran away.
While I was attempting to regain a more solid sense of reality, I realized the finger the squirrel bit was actually bleeding. I rinsed it off with water from my bottle, but the bleeding would not stop. So I started walking around the park trying to find a way to clean my wound (which wasn't that big; I have no idea how it bled so much). The bathroom at the ferry had, of course, a long line, so I went into the bookstore and asked if they had a first aid kit, which oddly enough, they did not. There was a police car idling, but all of the windows were blacked out and I couldn't even tell if there was anyone inside, and since I didn't want to knock on the window because that seemed sketchy, so I went across the street to the Museum of the American Indian. I went inside and asked the guard if they had a first aid kit I could use, as I had been bitten by a squirrel. He gave me a funny look, but called downstairs and told me they had one I could use, and that someone would bring me something shortly. It took me a ridiculous amount of time to find downstairs, because I kept going down the wrong corridor. Once I did, however, there was a guard who, after I told him what I was needing, told me I could sit and wait while the sergeant brought me some alcohol swabs and antibacterial hand wipes. So then of course he asked what happened, and when I told him, he was very surprised. I told him the story and he thought it was hilarious and strange, because apparently no one had ever heard of anyone being bitten by a squirrel before. He started telling the other guards about what happened, and soon I was recounting the story to them all, making clear I was not feeding the squirrel, but rather it aggressively approached me while I was just trying to relax and eat my almonds. I found I adopted a tiny bit of an accent while I was speaking with the guards; it gave me a certain amount of pleasure they didn't take for granted I was a tourist. Then the sergeant came and we joked about turning into a were-squirrel while I cleaned and bandaged my wound. They said several times I should get a rabies shot, and while I was reluctant (I really didn't think it was that big of a deal), they finally convinced me it would be better to be safe than sorry. Blaine texted me about this time to let me know he was done with work and on his way, so I waited for him to arrive, and when he did I told the whole story all over again.
Agreeing that it would be better to get a rabies shot than take the chance of my dying from a squirrel bite, we decided to try a Duane Reade and see if they offered rabies shots. We went to the same one I had no luck getting cash back at, where we were informed by the pharmacy that they did not give rabies shots, nor was it likely a doctor's office would carry them. We then decided to find a hospital, which for some reason proved more difficult than it ought to have been. We asked a female police officer, and she pointed us in the right direction, though she couldn't remember the name of the street. We did find it, by randomly taking the street we thought looked promising, and talked about 9/11, since the site was very close to where we were. We realized the hospital I went to was probably very busy on that day, and it was interesting to reflect on what it must have been like.
At the hospital we went to the emergency room, which was not nearly as busy as I thought it would be. We were there for about an hour and a half, and the woman who took down my insurance information was very, very nice. (I had brought my insurance card along with me that day, for no particular reason. Thank you foresight. And probably God.) The man who cleaned me up and re-bandaged my finger was also very nice, although he accidentally stabbed my hand while he was trying to cut off the fabric bandage from the museum. The hospital did not give me a rabies shot, having never heard of a case of rabies in a squirrel, but sent me off with a prescription for antibiotics, which I filled at good old Rite Aid (since I had filled there before, but let me tell you, it was difficult to find one in the sea of Duane Reades).
We took it easy that evening, after a crazy afternoon, and ate burgers at some place near Times Square, because we had tickets to see "Clybourne Park." If you know nothing about the play (as I did not), here is a link to a New York Times article about the production: http://theater.nytimes.com/2012/04/20/theater/reviews/clybourne-park-by-bruce-norris-at-walter-kerr-theater.html?_r=0. Although I would disagree with some of the article's main points. I liked the script for the most part, but I did not care for the majority of the actors. I did like Sarah Goldberg and Jeremy Shamos, but none of the other actors seemed particularly realistic. In some cases I don't think the part was written very well, but sometimes the actor would affect a certain physical characteristic that was completely distracting. I did like the parallels between the first and second act, when one character in the second half would repeat a line another character said in the first. However, with some plays it's difficult to ascertain a playwright's choices and purpose. In some cases an author has a specific agenda, and in others she just wants to bring attention to an issue. Gentrification and racism are still huge issues, particularly in the United States, but I wasn't sure what the playwright's final motivation for writing the play was. It was an interesting show, and it sparked lively conversation between Blaine and I and I'm sure other patrons, but it was not the best show I've seen.
This has become a much longer entry than I imagined (that darn squirrel), but Sunday was pretty mellow, so I'll wrap it up with a quick summary of that day's adventures.
Day Four: Sunday.
Blaine had Sunday off from work, so we did the two things I asked him specifically to join me in: go to the Natural History Museum, and walk across the Brooklyn Bridge (and we have good pictures, I promise. I'll get them up soon). On our way to the museum, we walked across Amsterdam Street, and discovered there was a street fair going on, so we walked up and down the fairly uncrowded street. That was one of those things tourists wouldn't necessarily know about, so it was mostly locals, and not that many people at that. I found my gift for Cat (some fresh passion fruit tea that she says was amazing) and looked at all the other interesting wares. There was a cotton candy truck (hallelujah) but we waited till after the museum to come back so I could get some.
The museum was wonderful, of course: lots of dead animals and weird historical recreations, and of course DINOSAURS. I had a blast and we spent a good chunk of the afternoon there. I did not go to the spiders exhibit because it cost extra, which is a shame because I just read an article on CNN about it. Oh well. But then we decided to go into Brooklyn and walk around before we went on the bridge. We went to Prospect Park (potato salad!) where I tried to find a bridge like the one they dumped Buzzy Bellew's body off of, but did not find one. We walked a long ways and saw a lot of people out playing and having picnics. It's always nice to see people out having fun and laughing in the sunshine when we're so technologically-centered these days. But the park is beautiful because it's huge (almost 600 acres!) and when you're in the middle of it you can't even tell you're in the city anymore. You can't see any buildings, just grass and trees and blue skies.
Then we took the train back into Manhattan so we could walk across the bridge back into Brooklyn (I'm not sure why, but it was a really good idea) and it was gorgeous. We crossed it at the perfect time of day (about 6:30pm) and although parts are under construction and the view is obstructed, there are still plenty of places to look out at the city and Liberty island. It was lovely. We then had dinner at a delicious pizza place called Ignazio's, wandered around by the river, then took the train into the Village where we walked around for a bit before heading home to eat Ben and Jerry's. It was a fun, interesting, and fairly peaceful day, which was just what we both needed. It was great to spend time together and catch up, which is really why I went in the first place. So mission accomplished.
Only two more days to write about, but they're full ones, so I'll try to get them up soon! Ciao till then!
Thursday, September 06, 2012
On Manhattan
I was in Manhattan! And I'm going to write about it! Yaaaay! (Kermit arms.)
I'm going to document this trip in three posts, because that way you and I won't get overwhelmed with all the adventures. Unfortunately I have not been able to get any of my pictures from my trip onto my computer yet, so you'll just have to check back and see what I add later.
Day One: a tiny bit of Wednesday and all of Thursday.
There was only a tiny bit of Wednesday because I arrived at the JFK airport at about 11:45pm EST. Taking the subway from JFK in Brooklyn to the upper West Side on a Wednesday around midnight when the trains don't run as often meant we arrived at Blaine's apartment at around 2:30am. He lives on one of the only hills on the island and he lives on the fourth floor of his apartment building, which doesn't have an elevator. He was kind enough to carry my suitcase, or I would have collapsed and slept on the stoop outside all night.
While we were waiting for the trains, Blaine was telling me about his roommates. He said I might know them, since they went to BYU, but I reminded him I went to the school in Idaho and probably wouldn't know them. Their names didn't ring a bell either. However, after introducing myself to Rachel (who I thought looked uncannily familiar) and starting to chat with his other roommate Dalton, I realized that I did know them. Or, at least, I knew Rachel, and they both know Liz. Rachel went to Playmill with Liz, and Dalton was at BYU-I before I got there. Small world, people. What are the odds?
Before I go on, let me tell you, humidity. I'm telling people the two things I did most in Manhattan is walk and sweat, and I swear no one else looked at sweaty as I felt every day. Thank goodness for parks and shade and cool buildings. Not thank goodness for subway platforms, which feel like hell.
Blaine was at work during the day so he left me his keys and went off to try and sell expensive apartments while I didn't drag myself out of bed until 11am (this, by the way, was a common occurrence. I don't think I ever fully adjusted to the time difference). But once I finally emerged, I had an interesting and pleasant day. I spent the morning exploring Blaine's neighborhood, which actually became one of my favourite parts of Manhattan. I cut across to Riverside Park, walked down and then hooked up with Broadway, which I walked down until I found a place called the Cathedral School. Within this campus was a small isolated park that was home to a beautiful pure-white peacock. There I stopped for a short rest and did Tai Chi, which refreshed and rejuvenated me. I felt incredibly clean and chipper as I continued my walk, which took me through the Columbia campus, through Morningside Park, and into Central Park.
I spent a few hours in the park, watching people and calling Liz and Mom. And there are so many dog walkers! People walking four, five, six dogs at a time, big and small, fuzzy and short-haired. It was so much fun. After the park I wandered around to find something to eat and stopped at a vegan cafe called Blossom, where I had split pea soup and sauteed Brussels sprouts (which was delicious, but the sprouts needed to be done just a little more lightly). Then I asked my waitress where I could go to get a cheap manicure, and she recommended a place called Polish. I went there and just got a cut and polish, so afterwards my nails were very very shiny. I got a hand massage and they were playing "Pillow Talk" on their TV. It was very nice.
I walked back toward the park and found a chocolate shop called Suger and Plumm, where I bought a little bag of assorted chocolates, and soon after Blaine called me to tell me he was on his way home from work, and since I had his keys I needed to meet him back there. So I went home, and we made ourselves a delicious dinner (of what, I can't remember. Blaine is really good at throwing a random selection of food into a pan and cooking it into something tasty).
Later that night Blaine's friend Michael Keeny came over and took us out to this club that was like a really, really fancy karaoke bar. They had paid singers and then you could sing for $30 a song. Keeny knew the singers, and the bartender (who was awesome and reminded me of Rosie Perez), who made us all free drinks. She made me some juice concoction, and I don't know what was in it, but it was magical. So we hung out there for a while until I got tired and we went home, and went to bed around 3am or so.
Day Two: Friday.
The next day I got up around 10:30am, after Mom texted me to see if I was okay after the unfortunate shooting at the Empire State Building (which I was; I was still in bed). This day I took a roundabout route through Central Park to get to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where I spent several hours wandering and taking a lot of pictures. I saw a lot of the Greek sculptures, the interesting modern art section, the fantastic Egyptian art, and the whopping four El Greco's they have. Then I just wandered around Midtown, which, for the record, has NO food. They have a few fancy restaurants (and street vendors, of course), but it's all designer shops, rich people, and tourists. Not my favourite place in the city.
I ended up meeting with Blaine and we went home and had Mexican takeout. Amazing vegetable fajitas, and really, really spicy guacamole. That night we went and hung out with a couple of Blaine's friends; his old high school boyfriend and a girl who lives in the city. He was visiting from LA and thinking about moving to New York and it was his last night, so we went to their hotel and hung out with them for a while, talking about shows and fashion. It was nice and they were great people. Then we went home and crashed for the night. We did walk through Times Square to get to their hotel and back, and I decided I really don't like Times Square. There are too many people and it's too bright and loud and crazy, even at 1am.
During the first couple of days in the city I had a few different impressions. I love all the different people in the city. You hear English being spoken only about 50% of the time, and I love all the colours and shapes and sizes. In general everyone was nice to me, I never felt unsafe, and quite often people assumed I was a local. I got several compliments on my haircut, and people always answered my questions with sincerity and kindness. I went with the attitude that no one wanted to specifically do me harm, and while I was always aware of where I was and where my money was, I never felt unsafe. I walked around with no specific destination in mind, so I didn't look like a tourist, and I found a lot of cool little places I never would have found if I was trying to get somewhere. It was a great couple of days, and I had a wonderful time.
To be continued, so stay tuned! (Saturday includes the squirrel bite story...)
I'm going to document this trip in three posts, because that way you and I won't get overwhelmed with all the adventures. Unfortunately I have not been able to get any of my pictures from my trip onto my computer yet, so you'll just have to check back and see what I add later.
Day One: a tiny bit of Wednesday and all of Thursday.
There was only a tiny bit of Wednesday because I arrived at the JFK airport at about 11:45pm EST. Taking the subway from JFK in Brooklyn to the upper West Side on a Wednesday around midnight when the trains don't run as often meant we arrived at Blaine's apartment at around 2:30am. He lives on one of the only hills on the island and he lives on the fourth floor of his apartment building, which doesn't have an elevator. He was kind enough to carry my suitcase, or I would have collapsed and slept on the stoop outside all night.
While we were waiting for the trains, Blaine was telling me about his roommates. He said I might know them, since they went to BYU, but I reminded him I went to the school in Idaho and probably wouldn't know them. Their names didn't ring a bell either. However, after introducing myself to Rachel (who I thought looked uncannily familiar) and starting to chat with his other roommate Dalton, I realized that I did know them. Or, at least, I knew Rachel, and they both know Liz. Rachel went to Playmill with Liz, and Dalton was at BYU-I before I got there. Small world, people. What are the odds?
Before I go on, let me tell you, humidity. I'm telling people the two things I did most in Manhattan is walk and sweat, and I swear no one else looked at sweaty as I felt every day. Thank goodness for parks and shade and cool buildings. Not thank goodness for subway platforms, which feel like hell.
Blaine was at work during the day so he left me his keys and went off to try and sell expensive apartments while I didn't drag myself out of bed until 11am (this, by the way, was a common occurrence. I don't think I ever fully adjusted to the time difference). But once I finally emerged, I had an interesting and pleasant day. I spent the morning exploring Blaine's neighborhood, which actually became one of my favourite parts of Manhattan. I cut across to Riverside Park, walked down and then hooked up with Broadway, which I walked down until I found a place called the Cathedral School. Within this campus was a small isolated park that was home to a beautiful pure-white peacock. There I stopped for a short rest and did Tai Chi, which refreshed and rejuvenated me. I felt incredibly clean and chipper as I continued my walk, which took me through the Columbia campus, through Morningside Park, and into Central Park.
I spent a few hours in the park, watching people and calling Liz and Mom. And there are so many dog walkers! People walking four, five, six dogs at a time, big and small, fuzzy and short-haired. It was so much fun. After the park I wandered around to find something to eat and stopped at a vegan cafe called Blossom, where I had split pea soup and sauteed Brussels sprouts (which was delicious, but the sprouts needed to be done just a little more lightly). Then I asked my waitress where I could go to get a cheap manicure, and she recommended a place called Polish. I went there and just got a cut and polish, so afterwards my nails were very very shiny. I got a hand massage and they were playing "Pillow Talk" on their TV. It was very nice.
I walked back toward the park and found a chocolate shop called Suger and Plumm, where I bought a little bag of assorted chocolates, and soon after Blaine called me to tell me he was on his way home from work, and since I had his keys I needed to meet him back there. So I went home, and we made ourselves a delicious dinner (of what, I can't remember. Blaine is really good at throwing a random selection of food into a pan and cooking it into something tasty).
Later that night Blaine's friend Michael Keeny came over and took us out to this club that was like a really, really fancy karaoke bar. They had paid singers and then you could sing for $30 a song. Keeny knew the singers, and the bartender (who was awesome and reminded me of Rosie Perez), who made us all free drinks. She made me some juice concoction, and I don't know what was in it, but it was magical. So we hung out there for a while until I got tired and we went home, and went to bed around 3am or so.
Day Two: Friday.
The next day I got up around 10:30am, after Mom texted me to see if I was okay after the unfortunate shooting at the Empire State Building (which I was; I was still in bed). This day I took a roundabout route through Central Park to get to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where I spent several hours wandering and taking a lot of pictures. I saw a lot of the Greek sculptures, the interesting modern art section, the fantastic Egyptian art, and the whopping four El Greco's they have. Then I just wandered around Midtown, which, for the record, has NO food. They have a few fancy restaurants (and street vendors, of course), but it's all designer shops, rich people, and tourists. Not my favourite place in the city.
I ended up meeting with Blaine and we went home and had Mexican takeout. Amazing vegetable fajitas, and really, really spicy guacamole. That night we went and hung out with a couple of Blaine's friends; his old high school boyfriend and a girl who lives in the city. He was visiting from LA and thinking about moving to New York and it was his last night, so we went to their hotel and hung out with them for a while, talking about shows and fashion. It was nice and they were great people. Then we went home and crashed for the night. We did walk through Times Square to get to their hotel and back, and I decided I really don't like Times Square. There are too many people and it's too bright and loud and crazy, even at 1am.
During the first couple of days in the city I had a few different impressions. I love all the different people in the city. You hear English being spoken only about 50% of the time, and I love all the colours and shapes and sizes. In general everyone was nice to me, I never felt unsafe, and quite often people assumed I was a local. I got several compliments on my haircut, and people always answered my questions with sincerity and kindness. I went with the attitude that no one wanted to specifically do me harm, and while I was always aware of where I was and where my money was, I never felt unsafe. I walked around with no specific destination in mind, so I didn't look like a tourist, and I found a lot of cool little places I never would have found if I was trying to get somewhere. It was a great couple of days, and I had a wonderful time.
To be continued, so stay tuned! (Saturday includes the squirrel bite story...)
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Letter
To those who say that homo
sexuality and gay love is
an imitation
is
untrue
did not sit beside as I sat across
from you
when you
gazing out the window at the sky whose edges were leaking light
said quietly
I do love him
the words walking out from between your lips
Not proudly Not shamefully
but
Matter-of-Fact as the fingerprints on the glass
I do love him you said
and I believed you
sexuality and gay love is
an imitation
is
untrue
did not sit beside as I sat across
from you
when you
gazing out the window at the sky whose edges were leaking light
said quietly
I do love him
the words walking out from between your lips
Not proudly Not shamefully
but
Matter-of-Fact as the fingerprints on the glass
I do love him you said
and I believed you
Monday, August 13, 2012
Thoughts on "The Dark Knight Rises"
Also note: I wrote this blog about two weeks ago when I saw the film for the first time, but decided to wait to post it until I saw it again with some friends last night. I think I liked it better the second time, but the issues I had with it, that I discuss here, were solidified for me and I've just expanded what I wrote before.
I recently watched "The Dark Knight Rises" and had an enjoyable time doing so. I had postponed going to see it for two reasons: one, although I knew I was going to see it and that I couldn't do anything about it, the tragic events in Colorado made me feel strange about going to see it. I felt weird about enjoying it when others who went to do the same thing lost their lives, or have to continue living with the memory of that horrific night. I found that, while the victims of the Colorado shooting were on my mind, I still enjoyed the film. The second reason I waited was because it had been a while since I had seen the first two "Batman" films, and I wanted to catch up. However, DJ's only had them in Standard (and come on, no movie should ever been seen in anything except Widescreen) and the Red Box near my house didn't even have them. So I decided that although it had been a while, I still had seen them several times and remembered the basic events in each. Though I do owe a big thank you to Jesse Thorson (I got to see the movie first with Jesse and Kathleen) for reminding me of major plot points.
Before I go any further, I want to say that I liked the film. I might even go so far as to say I really liked it, especially after the second time. I found it interesting, touching, and I certainly didn't see any plot points coming, which is always fun. I would recommend fans to go see it, and I enjoyed it more the second time. The violence was at times a bit much for me (it felt like an auditory and visual assault, but I may be more sensitive than others) though it wasn't overtly graphic. However, I discovered several unexpected problems I had with the structure of the film, which I will discuss here. Some of the issues are well-founded in what I believe are basic elements of story-telling, and some of them are just personal opinions. But I wanted to share them nonetheless.
Plot Structure: I'm just going to come right out and say it. It felt too long and convoluted. There are some long movies that don't feel long, because they are interesting or beautiful. And there are some short movies that feel like they last forever. This is a long movie that felt long to me. There were moments in the middle of the film where I was, quite frankly, bored. Maybe it was the knowledge at the back of my mind that whatever the fate of Batman, the bomb could not go off, the city would not be destroyed, they couldn't all die. But the tension just wasn't there for me. It was a little too predictable. This may contradict my next point, which is that I felt the story was too complicated. I generally don't have a problem with a lot of information presented to me that I have to remember (I love psychological thrillers and mysteries), but I had a hard time remembering what I was apparently supposed to remember. I think part of the problem was focus. There was a LOT going on, with a lot of different people, and I had a hard time knowing whose story it was and even what the story was. If it was about Batman, a lot of the movie was not about Batman. My friend said she found there were too many people to pay attention to, and consequently, did not feel anything for anyone. I wouldn't go that far, because I think the best parts of the film were the moments of human connection: Bruce and Alfred, Blake and Bruce, Gordon and Blake. But there were so many people and so many little stories, it was very unfocused. Compared with "The Dark Knight" (which I think I liked better, and seemed to me a really interesting, albeit horrifying, study of human nature; it also was more unpredictable), this story was confusing, and I don't know what I was supposed to come away with. It was definitely more hopeful, which I liked, but again, too convoluted. I also felt they made a mistake in the timing of the revelation of Miranda, and not Bane, as Ra's al Ghul's child. I felt it came too soon after the telling of the whole Bane backstory. If the backstory had come sooner, we would have had time to forget about it, and then the revelation would have been more of a surprise. Instead, as soon as the whole wrong truck thing came up, it was pretty obvious. So I would have liked a better "reveal" structure.
Anne Hathaway as Catwoman: I am biased on this one, because I've never really been a fan of Anne Hathaway, and I honestly couldn't tell you why. Perhaps she seems too self-assured on camera, or I always see her in whatever role she's playing (as opposed to being completely one's character, like, in my opinion, Ewan McGregor). Whatever it is, I could not take her seriously as Catwoman. Part of it is I just don't find her sexy enough (I'm a Michelle Pfeiffer fan myself, but I just like that movie), and maybe part of it was that it felt too cliche: the sexy, catty, outside-of-the-law, witty comeback girl who then becomes vulnerable and wastes precious bomb-about-to-go-off seconds kissing. A huge part of it was the role didn't at all feel important. I understand her role in the plot and what purpose she served, but I didn't think it was necessary. Next to Marion Cotillard (who, let's face it, is way sexier), I would have been fine without her there at all.
Everyone in Gotham City is an Idiot: How can no-one know that Bruce Wayne is Batman? Batman and Bruce Wayne haven't been seen in Gotham for eight years, and the very night after Bruce Wayne comes out of hermitude (I made that word up, but it seemed appropriate), Batman returns. And no one makes the connection? I kind of get it, but Catwoman? Really? You didn't get it until Bane said it? You crazy, girl.
"Strong" Female Characters/The Guy Always Gets the Girl: This was actually the strongest issue I had with the movie, and it comes entirely from my feminist perspective. Just once I would like to see a "strong" female character whose strength is not judged by her ability to beat up men. I think strength comes from mercy, from compassion, and from true courage, not from a lack of emotion or from insensitivity to death. Too often a "strong" woman is characterized by "masculine" definitions (which I also think are pretty messed up; I mean, did you see the trailer for "The Expendables 2?"), and it's getting on my nerves. Also, the idea that the hero is always rewarded with a sexy girl (two, in this case) makes me uncomfortable. It is the norm for the comic book and action hero to "win" love from the "strong" woman at the end, and it's even more normal for Batman and Catwoman to hook up, but it's a norm I reject. One of the reasons I like the movie "Hidalgo" is that it's simply a movie about a man and his horse. Yes, he meets a woman, but he doesn't "get" her in the end. Too often a male character goes through some emotional change and at the end gets the girl who didn't have any sort of emotional say in the matter, or whose emotional shift made no sense whatsoever (like in this film). It's a pattern that needs examining. We have few enough mainstream female role models in the real world, so it would be nice to have some fictional ones worthy of emulation.
Movie Actors Have Got to Stop Mumbling: Enough said. (Ok, Bane, I get it, there's a big thing on your face, but it's not just you, mister.)
Editing: I've been told one of my strengths as a director is my attention to detail. Since I had seen this film before and was at times bored, I noticed a lot of little editing mistakes that bugged me. Right hand switching to left hand, visor up versus down, etc. The biggest editing flub that confused me was this: after Batman re-emerges and gets the wireless device thing from the robbery at the stock exchange, he escapes by flying away in "The Bat." He stops by to pick up Catwoman (speaking of which, how did he know where she was? Was he just flying by and happen to notice her? Wouldn't they have heard him?) and then lands on the roof of a random building. Catwoman leaves, and Batman flies home where he talks to Alfred about getting the device thing to Fox so he can decode it, blah, blah, blah. But then, halfway through the film, Fox says Batman needs to get "The Bat," and asks if he remembered where he parked it. Home, right? No, somehow the flier magically reappears on the roof where he "left" it. Anyone? Anyone? Please tell me someone else noticed this. But even the little things got to me after a while. How could no one pay attention to those things?
With all that said, I did like the movie. I've always like Joseph Gordon-Levitt (that is a man I would go straight for) and the story did go through some interesting variations. I loved the Cillian Murphey cameo, with the Scarecrow references, and Gary Oldman is always a pleasure to watch. The problems that arose for me didn't go away the second time (and were, in fact, solidified) but I urge everyone to see it and make their own judgement. You don't have to take my word for it. *wink*
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
An Anomalous Affinity
I have recently developed a strange and unexpected love for something I never imagined I would be interested in: The A-Team. What started as harmless curiosity suddenly turned into intrepid enthusiasm for a group of fugitive war veterans living as well-meaning mercenaries. Despite its apparent flaws, and my usual indifference to the action genre, the television series has established in me a level of fandom I usually reserve for science fiction.
It's rather difficult to explain. I started watching the show because, after watching the original series "Battlestar Galactica," I developed a man crush on Dirk Benedict. By which I mean I don't want to have his babies, but I think he's really cool and I want to be his friend. (Did you know he survived prostrate cancer in his twenties by isolating himself in a remote cottage and living on a macrobiotic diet he picked up in Sweden? Yeah. Seriously.) He wasn't even in the pilot. He replaced Tim Dunigan, who apparently was "too tall and too young." But by then I was hooked.
The show is by no means perfect, believability being the main issue. With all the explosions, gunfire, and excessive (albeit impressive) car crashes, not a single person has died. Although in my mind I prefer to put this down not to the miraculous constitutions of friend and foe alike, but rather the A-Team's dislike of killing since coming back from the war. They just rough people up a bit to fulfill their contracts. And they always seem to be one step ahead of Lynch or Decker or whichever MP happens to be on their tail. No one seems to think B.A.'s interest in children is creepy (even me, Mr. T being one of the most magnificent men on the planet), or questions the motives of the ordinary men who burn and beat up and break for the bad guy. And no one at the VA psychiatric hospital seems to remember Face whenever he comes to spring Murdock.
But there is something about it that I have hooked onto, something I have fallen a little bit in love with. Maybe it's the delightful dynamic of the group, the way they joke with each other in a spirit of lightheartedness contrary to the nature of their position. Maybe it's the way they don't always get along and are sometimes tested to their limits, yet never leave a man behind. Or the way they can always be trusted. Maybe it's even the cheesy MacGyver-like sequences where they build tanks and armored cars and bomb shelters out of whatever is lying around to the theme song that then always gets stuck in my head. It could be the reassurance of a group of people who have stayed together through years of hardship, and are always there for each other. Or maybe there's just something awesome about driving a car off the road in a helicopter. Whatever it is, I have developed a fondness for the A-Team I would never have expected from myself.
And now I spend my days in anxious anticipation of when I can watch the next episode. I merrily await to discover what disguise we'll next find Hannibal in, what con Face will pull and what girl he'll get doing it, what crazy antics Murdock has in store (oh, wonderful, ridiculous, lovable Murdock), and how angry it will all make B.A. Even Amy doesn't get on my nerves as much as I thought she would (though I have yet to meet her replacement in later episodes).
All in all, somehow and for some reason, a connection to this world has helped me through my final term. I have stayed optimistic. I have remembered how important friends are. And I have stuck to my guns and worked hard to get to where I am now.
I love it when a plan comes together.
Update: Ok, so I have met Amy's replacement, Tawnia. And I gotta say, she is really annoying, mostly because I don't think she's a very good actress. My consolation comes from the fact it appears the A-Team feels the same way about her as I do. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Amy.
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