Today…

Was an exceptional day.

Started off with a pot of pure kona coffee. Had about 6 cups. Don’t normally drink that much but kona is so good it’s ridiculous and impossible not to keep drinking. Moved on to laundry which, by some cosmic weirdness, I enjoy.

Followed up with dishes which I don’t love but also don’t hate.

Around noon, I sliced a watermelon that had been chilling in the fridge for the past three days. Read the sticker that said the melon was from Cave City, Arkansas. Laughed at the fact that the mascot for Cave City’s school is the Caveman. Ate some watermelon as I was slicing it. The sweetness made up for the seeds. Realized I have become spoiled by seedless melons.

Even though I ate some as I sliced, filled a huge salad bowl with melon and relocated to the deck. Ate almost the whole bowl, but shared a fair amount with Zoie (who loves it – seeds and all) and Sadie (who likes to toss it around, spraying the deck with watermelon juice). Worried that Zoie’s stomach may hurt because I gave her so much. Realized that I have indulged her a little too much lately.

Got a text from Jason – “What movie and when?”

We decided on Resurrecting the Champ. Not a bad movie but not great. Near the end, I needed some crackers to go with the cheese.

Called Jennifer – who worked both days this weekend – on the way home after the movie to see if she wanted to meet Jennie and J for dinner. She decided she was too tired. Can’t blame her, she’s worked 7 days in a row including 3 away from home while she filled in for a pharmacist in NW Arkansas while he is on vacation.

Walked on treadmill for 30 minutes.

Watched an espisode of LA Ink, the 4400, and played a bit of Final Fantasy Three on my Nintendo DS.

While the dogs snoozed on the couch beside me (if there is anything more satisfying, I haven’t found it yet), typed a summary of my day for all the world to see.

Didn’t accomplish much, but enjoyed the day.

Canine Peripheral Nerve Sheath Tumor

This post gets a few hits every week. The original text, found below in block quotes, is not very helpful if you are looking for information about nerve sheath tumors or if you are just looking for another animal lover with which to commiserate. I wrote it in a moment of anger just after I had learned that our dog, Zoie, had such a tumor. Here is the text:

Fuck Cancer.

I’m out for a while. Don’t know when I’ll be back.

We didn’t know at the time, but Zoie’s tumor had, even after surgery, already started taking over the upper-right quadrant of her body. She lost her fight with the damn thing on January 14, 2008. Even though it was an unbelievably difficult experience, I like to believe that I learned some things along the way. There is no doubt that I met some wonderful people who were, along with equally wonderful friends I already knew, incredibly supportive.

Anyway, if you want to read further about our experience, I’ve compiled all of the posts that I wrote during Zoie’s fight. I’ve listed them here in the chronological order in which I wrote them:

Mysterious Ways (08/17/2007)

On Impermanence (08/20/2007)

Today… (08/27/2007)

Zoie Update (09/11/2007)

Zoie (09/25/2007)

First Trip to Columbia (09/28/2007)

A Great Weekend (Third Trip to Columbia) (10/08/2007)

Fourth Trip to Columbia

MIA (10/30/2007)

Zoie Update (12/05/2007

Adios 2007 (12/31/2007)

You Can’t Fight Fate (01/02/2008)

For Zoie (01/13/2008)

Goodbye Truly is the Hardest Thing (01/23/2008)

Thanks (02/06/2008)

Brown Thumb

I like plants. I really do.

But I recognize that a great deal of work goes into the plants that I find really cool and I’ve decided that it’s not for me. My license to grow plants of any type should be revoked.

In the foreground of the picture above there are several wilted (and brown) elephant ears which, for the third summer in a row, I have failed. Every summer, I try to get them through the heat and the lack of water. Every summer, I fail.

I’m okay with it. I’ll stick to animals.

On Impermanence

Of all perceptions, remembering death and impermanence is supreme.

–Buddha

Sorry my posts have taken a bit of a serious turn lately. They mirror some things I’ve been thinking about. But the weird thing is, they don’t necessarily mirror my moods. Even in the face of things I find daunting, I pretty much find joy every day. I wonder if it’s a gift or a touch of insanity. Whatever, I’m glad it’s an affliction I have.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking lately in particular about the Buddhist teaching of impermanence which I have found enlightening and applicable to life. I believe that there is wisdom in embracing daily life in spite of our ultimate fate. So I have various ways of reminding myself to take advantage of life every day.

The most outward manifestation of the reminders are three bracelets I wear at various times, sometimes all three together. In different ways, they are each somehow related to the practice of Buddhism – which I highly respect just don’t personally practice. However, each of them, for different reasons, also have some sentimental value to me. I won’t get into that now. But I use them as references because, as a reminder to keep things in perspective, they are inadequate as compared to events that, every now and then, slap me in the face, and laugh at my silly reminders.

Specifically, I’m talking about Zoie being sick and having surgery. She is much better, incidentally. She is still a little limpy, but she gets around very well considering. Now it’s just wait and see about the biopsy. Because I know that not all people are as attached to animals as I am and that those people might make light of my strong reaction to the natural progression of a 9 year old dog’s declining health, I sometimes feel a little ridiculous talking so seriously about a dog. Well, I’ve decided that those people are fucking heartless.

Still, last Thursday and Friday morning my analytical nature was at work and I was constantly trying to figure out why I was so emotional. Here is the crux:

On Friday morning, I was getting ready for work while I listened to NPR. When I was brushing my teeth, Story Corps came on. If you are not familiar with the program, it basically involves regular people interviewing loved ones. There are several booths that travel around the country and anyone who wants can sign up for a time when the booth is near and record an interview with a loved one. I personally think the results, even those broadcast on national NPR, are mixed. Sometimes, I have no interest in what the people talk about. On Friday, though, a youngish man was interviewing his mother who had survived two bouts with cancer. The interview was touching in general; the love shared between the two was undeniable. But near the end, the mother asked her son what had been the hardest part of her illness for him. A few seconds of silence passed before the son, with his voice quivering and cracking, answered, “When I realized that I would have say goodbye to you.”

When I heard his response, I stood in front of our bathroom sink, toothbrush in hand, and wept openly. At first, I was amazed that such a short interview had impacted me so deeply. Then, when I really thought about it, I realized that I wasn’t weeping for the strong, admirable woman on the radio. I cried for me because, for the first time, I admitted that I was going to have to say goodbye to Zoie. Hopefully, we’ll have several more years. But I may have to say goodbye soon. So, all I can do in the interim, is what we each do every day: appreciate the time we have, embrace the life in that time, and hope for the best.

Mysterious Ways

One evening about three weeks ago, I took our dogs on a rather long walk. It was just before the heat had gotten unbearable in Little Rock so I personally thought it was enjoyable. I also thought the dogs had enjoyed it. Sure, they were hot. But they both drank plenty of water when we got home and then spread out on the cool tile of our kitchen floor.

The next day, though, Zoie was not okay. She was limping rather badly and, upon examination, we found that she had some sort of lump or growth behind her right shoulder. Not sure why we hadn’t noticed it before; possibly, because of it’s location, it was almost completely unnoticeable unless, laying on the left side of her body, Zoie’s right side was relaxed and almost completely exposed. Regardless, we made a vet appointment for the next day. The vet said that it could possibly be a type of growth that she refers to as a fatty tumor. Zoie has had them previously. They are completely benign and, fortunately, encapsulated so that they are not a problem unless they grow too big and interfere with muscles or bones. But, the vet cautioned, there is no way to know without surgery. As this growth was causing Zoie pain, we decided to schedule surgery, have it removed, and eliminate all doubt.

The surgery was yesterday. The growth was much more extensive than our vet had anticipated. It was lodged behind Zoie’s shoulder, against her ribcage, and under her scapula and shoulder muscle. In other words, it was big, and well imbedded. The vet said that, when she opened Zoie, she was shocked at the size of it: about the size of half a softball. She said that she is hopeful that she removed it all, but won’t know for certain until she gets lab results that will show if the borders are clear or not. The same lab report will show if the growth is benign or malignant.

I didn’t want to hear any of that.

Still, I can intellectually deal with the facts. I hope and pray that the vet got everything and that the growth is benign but I can’t control those things and so it’s not something I am going to spend time fretting about.

What wrecked me emotionally was what happened when I got home last night: Jennifer had already picked Zoie up from the vet and had, via telephone, already warned me that Zoie was in a fair amount of pain. She had described the incision which, at about five inches, is huge for a dog Zoie’s size. When I walked in the door, though, Zoie, laying in the doorway between the kitchen and our living room, looked up at me. She was clearly happy to see me. As is a dog’s nature, it was apparent that she wanted to greet me. I immediately threw down the things in my hands to walk over to her and spare her the pain of getting up.

But I wasn’t fast enough. In pain, which she manifested by shifting most of her weight to the left side of her body, she stood up and then hobbled a couple of steps toward me. At that moment, as I stared at a completely benevolent creature, in terrible pain but still wagging her tail in greeting, my mind screamed out, “My God! What I have done to deserve unconditional love?!?”

Elvis Craziness

Being a Beatles’ man, I’ve never understood the fascination with the Elvis. But, living this close to Memphis, I’ve always intended to some day make it to the spectacle that is the remembrance of Elvis’ death. I’ve heard it’s something to see: people crying, etc. About. a. long. dead. pop. star.

Anyway, August is never nice in this part of the country. This year in particular, though, is too hot to even think about driving east for two hours just stand in the heat and basically make fun of others. Seems like E could have had the decency to kick it in a milder month. Maybe that would have saved the life of a 67 year old fan from New Jersey who was at Graceland for the anniversary week and died probably as a result of the 105 degree heat. I’m not trying to be flippant about her death. I suppose she died doing what she loved. I just don’t get it. The full story is here.

Umbrella

If you don’t know the song “Umbrella” by Rihanna then you haven’t listened to the radio or watched MTV in quite some time. In spite of the cheesy lyrics, I like the song and the well produced video.

While checking out Yahoo Music today, I ran across a cover of the song by Mandy Moore. As an actress, I really like Mandy Moore. I know very little about her music. However, notwithstanding the insipid close up shots of her singing during the performance, I like her cover version of “Umbrella”. Remember, provided the music is enjoyable, I’ve never claimed to be above enjoying a saccharine pop song.

Anyway, the video is here if you want to see it for yourself.

The Baptist Faith and Message

My post yesterday was honestly intended to explain why I like U2. The subsequent discussion about the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) was completely unintended. However, I think such discussions are healthy, provided, as I think was the case yesterday, everyone involved respects the beliefs of others.

That said, in a comment to my post yesterday, I said that I think that I agree with more of the Baptist Faith and Message than I disagree with. Since I hadn’t read it in several years, I decided to take a look and confirm that my statement is still true.

What I found is that, if the SBC can be described as conservative, then I am shockingly more liberal than the last time I read the statement of faith. After reading it the last time, I remember saying on numerous occasions that I was in agreement with the Baptist Faith and Message but not with the actual practices of individual churches. Turns out that, now, I agree with some of the Baptist Faith and Message but, of the eighteen articles, I have some level of disagreement with twelve of them. So, while some of my disagreements with individual articles are fairly minor, I think that I can now safely say that I no longer identify myself as a Baptist.

It’s been a long, arduous journey. Seriously. I’ve found that the pressure exerted by a staunchly Baptist family to continue attending a Baptist church is very intense. Everyone always speaks of Catholic guilt. Without having ever been a Catholic, I can’t say for certain that it’s worse or better but I think that Baptist guilt is bad. At least with Catholic guilt, you can go to confession, do your penance and move on with your life (I know it’s not quite that simple, just saying).

Anyway, just a little follow up to yesterday. Whether or not, like me, your spiritual heritage involves the personal attendance of a Southern Baptist church, the bottom line is that the SBC is an incredibly influential force in the U.S. and I was glad to understand the actual stated beliefs of the SBC found in the Baptist Faith and Message. If you are interested, here is a link to the document.

Why I am a U2 Fan

I listened last night to a good portion of How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, U2’s latest studio album. By far, I don’t think it’s their best work. From any other group, I would find it more than adequate. But not U2, not based on their back catalogue which includes some of my favorite songs and my favorite album of all time, Achtung Baby. Regardless, I was reminded of how I became a fan of U2. Here is the self indulgent story:

While in high school, I spent too much time at Burger Blaze. It was a crappy burger joint that served exactly the kind of food you would expect in a small town in the south: fried. Fortunately, though, because, at least when I ate in town, I was on a strict diet of burgers and fries, I didn’t miss the non-existent selection of grilled chicken, fish, and veggies.

Regardless, I didn’t go to Burger Blaze specifically for the food. I could have picked up a burger at Garner’s or Check’s, two other local restaurants also serving high-quality, health conscious food, or at McDonald’s or Sonic. I went to Burger Blaze because the members of my particular clique had chosen to grace the place with their presence. It happened to be owned by a couple who attended the same church as I did, and they generally tried to hire kids who also went to our church. So, in what was on most levels a gross display of improvidence, we chose to cloister ourselves in the safe, homogenous, and boring environment that was Burger Blaze.

In fact, as far as I know, the only mildly subversive thing about Burger Blaze was the jukebox that stood in one corner of the dining area. I clearly remember its red and blue flashing lights which contrasted sharply with the starkly-white, art free, plasterboard walls. It being the early 1990s, recording artists were still releasing, and jukeboxes were still playing, singles on 45 records. The selection of music on the Burger Blaze jukebox was, much like the food, almost entirely the kind of music you would expect in a small town in the south: country and western, southern rock, and a few pop hits which were all three or four years old. But unlike the food selection, the jukebox had three exceptions that I still consider nourishing and, when I dropped my quarter into the slot, they were the only three songs I chose: “I Walk the Line” by Johnny Cash, “Hey Jude” by The Beatles, and “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” by U2.

The first two were songs that, as a result of the influence of my mother and older sister, I had heard for literally as long as I could remember. While, when I first started selecting the U2 song, I remembered it from a few years before when it was a hit, it was a default selection because there was nothing else to pick, and I was ambivalent about it. In fact, because of the first two stanzas and because I had previously paid the song scant attention, I thought it was a love song. But over the course of a year or so, I played and heard the song at least a hundred times. With that much repetition, I was, even in a social setting, forced to listen to and eventually comprehend the lyric.

When I did, I realized that Bono and company had written a beautiful, psalm-like song that spoke directly to me. Just like Bono proclaimed in the lyric, I had been searching for something and I hadn’t found it; specifically, the small minded, dogmatic doctrine that I had been taught in my Southern Baptist Church had not provided appropriate answers to many of the questions swirling around in my young mind. It would still be several years before I had the courage and conviction to break completely with the teachings of the Southern Baptist Convention. But since I have done that, I have been much more satisfied and I think consistent in my spiritual convictions.

I think it would be a better story to be able to say that it was an epiphanic moment and that, one day, I just walked out the door of Burger Blaze with a whole new view about the practice of religion. But, just as I’ve found all major changes in my beliefs to be, my realization was gradual. Bono claims that he didn’t know what he was searching for when he wrote the song. I think that’s interesting because, when it spoke to me most, I didn’t know either. I just knew I was searching for something different. I will always be grateful to him, and U2, for planting in me a seed of critical thinking. It’s a large burden for one song, and an admittedly brash, sometimes silly, pop star to carry. Still, it’s the reason that U2 is one of my favorite artists and always will be.

Just in case you aren’t familiar with “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” here are the full lyrics:

I have climbed the highest mountain
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you

I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire
I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone

But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
Well, yes, I’m still running

You broke the bonds and you
Loosed the chains
Carried the cross
And my shame
All my shame
You know I believe it

But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

Random Monday Thoughts

Fidel Castro – The bastard turns 81 today. He’s been irritating U.S. presidents and neglecting Cubans since 1959. To gain some insight into how Castro’s revolution impacted the people of the island nation, I highly recommend Waiting for Snow in Havana: Confessions of a Cuban Boy. It’s the memoir of Carlos Eire, who was one of several thousand children air lifted out of Cuba shortly after Castro seized power.

Karl Rove – By this time, I’m sure everyone has heard that W’s brain is, at the end of August, leaving his post in the White House. His departure signals the relatively imminent end of W’s political career. That makes me smile.

David Beckham – It’s no secret that I love pop culture and, more specifically, the public’s obsession with our modern day royalty. But I have to say that I’ve never understood America’s obsession with an English soccer player. I’ve got nothing against the guy; it’s just that professional soccer is not popular in the U.S. It’s just not. Still, I heard a radio story last week about how, during his first appearance on the field for the L.A. Galaxy, the stadium was packed and the crowd went wild whenever he touched the ball. I don’t get it. Regardless, it sounds as if Philip Anschutz, owner of the Galaxy, is getting his money’s worth so far.

Stardust – I enjoyed this fairy tale with a good bit of comic relief thrown in. But I like fantasy movies quite a lot and Claire Danes even more.

Beat the Heat Playlist

This post turned out much, much longer than I intended…

Relatively late at night several nights every week, I sit around on the couch or lie in bed with headphones on and listen to music. Last night, as I was sweltering while sitting on the couch, I created the following playlist. I’ve dubbed it my beat the heat playlist. Two criteria were necessary for the songs to make the list: First, the song must sound great with high quality headphones. Second, the song, for one reason or another, must transport me to another place and make me think about something other than the heat.

“Cellphone’s Dead” by Beck

Most of the time, I love my mobile phone. But sometimes I wish it was dead. That sentiment, though, is not really that important to this song. It’s just a good jam. I love the intro. I love the funky bass, propelling Beck’s rap, that kicks in after the intro. I love when, during the chorus, the (I think) child’s voice declares, “One by one I’ll knock you out.”

“City of Night” by Pink Martini

Flamenco guitar, horns, and near perfect, vibrato free singing. Not necessarily the best heat remedy because it makes me want to hop a plane to someplace serving frozen margaritas and teaching tango lessons 24/7, but it does transport me.

“The Dogs of B.A.” by Mirah

There are so many interesting things about Mirah: She was born on a kitchen table in Philadelphia. She started writing songs at a very early age (4). Personally, she made me a fan with her song “Jerusalem” which, in spite of her Jewish heritage, indicts Israel for social injustice. Her message is especially powerful because she steeps it in history and the Jewish religious tradition. I personally think that smart lifts enjoyable music to another level.

Sorry, more background on why I like Mirah than is probably necessary.

Ironically, unlike “Jerusalem”, I like “Dogs” because the music is fun. It’s very beatlesque. The lyrics, not so much fun. But, like “City of Night”, they make me want to hop a plane to Argentina.

“Glory Box” by Portishead

I defy anyone to listen to this song and say that Beth Gibbons is not a masterful singer. I can sit around and chill to any of the songs from Portishead’s debut album, but this is by far my favorite. It is a perfect exercise of self restraint in that it always leaves me wanting more.

“Gone Til November” by Wyclef Jean

Because who wants to work? I’m not gonna, as Wyclef puts it, start, “making runs” anytime soon. But I think each of us can identify with the sentiment, “See, you must understand, I can’t work a 9 to 5. So I’ll be gone til November.”

“Haiti” by The Arcade Fire

I think The Arcade Fire is the current soul of guitar based rock, or pop-rock if you prefer. I especially like this elegy for a broken country. While the mournfulness is apparent, it’s softened, and beautified, because most of the lyrics are in French.

“Human Thing” by The Be Good Tanyas

Some songs just need to be listened to and not discussed. I suppose some people would apply that standard to all songs. Regardless, I think this is one.

“Kooks” by David Bowie

Only Bowie could write a family song about being kooky. He sealed the deal for me when, after explaining to what lengths he has gone to welcome a new family member, he sings, “Cause if you stay with us, you’re gonna be pretty kooky too.” I think it’s an awesome, understated way to say, “No matter what and no matter who, we’ll be here for you.” It makes me smile, and smiling is a great thing.

“Love is a Losing Game” by Amy Winehouse

Crazy Amy is an almost unbelievably gifted singer. I love her retro style, and everything about her retro influenced album. But I think she is especially effective when she is in tortured mode as she is on this song.

“Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS

If I were a musical artist, I would not want anyone to associate my music with a particular video. That is one of the reasons that I have always respected Pearl Jam for not filming videos for such a long time after “Jeremy” won video of the year. Vedder’s stated reason is that he wanted the songs to mean something to each individual who hears them. I freaking love that. Whatever else can be said about him, Eddie definitely makes his own way.

Ironically, in addition to it being a great song, one of the reasons that I love “Never Tear Us Apart” is that, when I hear it, my mind always sees the image of Michael Hutchence walking pensively through the streets of Prague. It immediately transports me back to the time of Friday Night Videos. I’m not saying it was a better time, just another one.

“Ooh Child” by Beth Orton

Beth Orton’s voice has the power to sooth an aching soul. She realizes it’s full potential with this cover.

“Pablo Picasso” by The Modern Lovers

I love the Lovers – not just because of their undisputed influence on punk – but because their songs, unlike many of those of The Velvet Underground, to whom the Lovers supposedly owe a debt of influence, are highly enjoyable. But “Picasso” is my favorite Lovers song. However you may feel about the cult of personality surrounding Picasso and his womanizing ways, it’s easy to identify with the Lovers sentiment that, when Picasso hit on women, he was never called an asshole. Whether it’s true or not is not really important because Picasso, on that level, is the embodiment of the dreams of many awkward, young men.

“Shadows Where the Magic Was” by James Hand

There is no way I could possibly describe James Hand as ably as the front page of his website does. Here is the what the introductory text says about him:

Somewhere in Texas, a haunting voice reverberates off saloon walls, a voice rich with the echos of timeless music. The singer and the songwriter is James Hand and he has quite a story to tell. Listen once, and the truth will set you free.

I wholeheartedly agree. “Shadows” is my favorite James Hand song. Incidentally, here is a link to his website.

“Sloop John B” by The Beach Boys

Only recently, have I discovered Pet Sounds. I’m glad I did. The music, especially the voice harmonization that so irritated me when I was younger, sounds really great with headphones. That seems like a sort of flippant way to describe one of the most influential pop albums ever. But it’s how I feel about it. “Sloop” is great for many reasons but I love it because of the picture Wilson paints with his aching lyrics.

“Trophy” Bat For Lashes

Bat for Lashes is the solo musical project of artist Natasha Khan. I bought her debut album a couple of weeks ago, immediately put it in my car’s CD player, and, except one time to rip the CD into iTunes, haven’t taken it out. It’s bewitching, mystifying, and probably my favorite CD I’ve purchased this year. I cannot describe it except to say Khan’s music is sort of Bjorkesque – which may turn a number of people off – in that it is playful yet serious, but Khan doesn’t “shriek” like Bjork sometimes tends to do. I say shriek in quotes because I’ve heard that complaint about Bjork fairly often, but I disagree with that assessment.

Anyway, “Trophy” is heavy with metaphor. So heavy, in fact, that I think everyone who hears it will probably assign different meanings to the song.

I’m sitting on my couch at 10:30 sweating

And I have air conditioning. Set on 70. According to Weather.com, the current temperature outside is 90. That’s not acceptable. Air condontioners can only do so much. Weather.com also tells me that the high temperature on Monday is supposed to be 105. That’s not acceptable either.

I never like to wish time away, but I don’t ever before remember being as anxious for autumn as I am this year.

Work

Sorry about the paltry postings lately. Works been busy. Such an interference with daily life…

I’ve got notes on a few to post. Will write them over the next few days.

Movies

For the past few years, I’ve heard how movie executives are concerned about the downward spiral of theater attendance. I’ve always thought that, if Hollywood will produce some good movies, attendance will pick back up. Earlier this week, I felt a bit vindicated when I heard a story on NPR about how gross receipts at theaters are up this summer. In my opinion, it is attributable to the fact that a spate of clearly entertaining movies was released this summer. I saw two of them last weekend:

The Bourne Ultimatum

The bottom line is that Paul Greengrass knows how to direct an action movie. Starting with Bloody Sunday and The Bourne Supremacy, I have enjoyed his movies. He made me a lifelong fan, though, with United 93. I will always respect Greengrass for depicting the darkest of days with the superb grace he managed. In my opinion, The Bourne Ultimatum is a worthy addition to his filmography. Because of the somewhat jumpy result, I’ve heard some people bemoan his frequent use of handheld cameras. It doesn’t bother me, especially when, as in much of Ultimatum, the action takes place on a very personal level.

Without lessening my praise of Greengrass, I’m certain that his task was considerably eased because of the many talented actors composing his cast. Every member – including Matt Damon, Julia Stiles, Joan Allen, and David Straitharn – was excellent.

The Simpsons Movie

It’s just funny. It’s just like the show only longer. But it’s funny.

17

I find it almost unbelievable that Michelle Duggar still even permits her husband, Jim Bob Duggar, in the same room with her, let alone…well, you know. They’ve just welcomed Jennifer Danielle, their 17th child, into the world. Enough already. Choose a method, any method. Courtesy of MSNBC, follow this link for a story about the child’s birth.

Friday Confession

When we were eating at Osaka – in West Little Rock on Highway 10 – tonight, it occurred to me that I would really like to have an abundance of disposable wooden chopsticks at home. You probably are wondering why. I’m not wholly sure. I do know, though, that I like the muffled snap they make when they are pulled apart. Also, they are much easier to use than, for example, the finished wood ones that are sold at Pier One. Unlike Jennie who notoriously hates it, I like the texture of raw wood.

How often do I use chopsticks at home? Not very. But, when I do, I certainly would like to have disposable ones – especially when I’m hand washing my chopsticks after eating Japanese noodles at home. Are disposable chopsticks bad for the environment? Probably. Still, someone else will use them if I don’t – terrible attitude, I know.

As I thought about the disposable chopsticks, I was reminded of seeing huge bundles of them – at least 100 in each bundle – in 100 Yen stores when Jennifer and I were in Japan. 100 Yen stores are, of course, Japan’s answer to America’s Dollar Tree. I’m sure that, in the same way I avoid $1 stores here, most Japanese avoid 100 Yen stores like the plague, thinking they are filled with crap. Because the merchandise stocked was unlike that in $1 stores, I found the 100 Yen stores exotic and utterly interesting – crap or not.

As I thought about all the big bundles of disposable chopsticks that I had seen in 100 Yen stores, I felt a pang of regret. In passing, when I saw them, it had occurred to me that I would like to own a big bundle of chopsticks. Don’t know why I didn’t buy them. I probably dismissed them as something I didn’t need and as something that would pose a packing issue. Fat mistake.

When we left Osaka, I told Jennifer about my regret. She shook her head and said, “You’re the king of regret about not buying something you want while we’re on vacation. Remember the case of Canel’s gum in Mexico?” I started to object until she quickly mentioned a couple more examples.

I realized she’s right. I’ve been guilty of non-buyer’s remorse more than I should. Like the chopsticks and the Canel’s gum, the things I pass up are generally not expensive. Also, they are generally food related so it’s not as if I’m going acquire more clutter as a result of making the purchase – consumption will generally prevent that within a finite time period. I once read that men eat their way through the places they travel. With me at least, I think that’s true. I would much rather sample the food and drink of a new place than buy some cheesy souvenir. I digress.

Anyway, I made a vow to no longer have non-buyer’s remorse. I don’t mean to say that I’m going to go out and max out my credit card, or buy a new Porsche. I’m just no longer going to skip the purchase of something – especially while traveling – just because it’s something I don’t “need.” To quote the character Mia from Love Actually, I’m going to try to “…want something I want.”

People…

The Scene: Me, walking through the parking lot on my way to lunch today.

Random Clueless Woman: (Gets out of her car, parked in the CEO’s parking space, and looks at me as I walk by). “How you doin?”

I try to ignore her because I know what’s coming next and my name is neither Rand nor McNally. Quickly decide it would be downright rude.

Me: “Okay.”

RCW: (Points toward building 5) “Is this the main entrance to building 1.”

Me: “That’s building 5.” (Points toward building 1) “That’s building 1.”

RCW: “I’m looking for Michelle.”

Me: “Ummm…The people at the reception can probably help you out. But I’d be a little more specific because there are over 2,000 people who work at this campus.”

RCW: (Stares blankly while I walk away)