Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, Star Wars and the Grand Canyon (the movie, not the place)

As usual, I'm a bit of a "Johnny-come-lately" to The Hunger Games.  I finished the book this past Saturday just in time to see the movie last night with a friend.  The movie kept pretty close to the book, a rarity for such transitions.  Cinematography was spot-on, as was the casting. Let me just say: Donald Sutherland creeps me out for no other reason than simply being Donald Sutherland.

My interest has been piqued by a lot of conversation bubbling up around the over-the-top violence chronicled in the books, highlighted in the horrific notion of kids killing kids.  I must admit this reaction suprises me to an extent.  We live in an actual world marred by immeasurable violence where kids are killing kids every single day - not just one day out of the year in some manufactured sporting event.  We know this exists, and yet most of us simply ignore it.  And yet we get our feathers ruffled over a book?

Okay, stepping off the soapbox now...

The thing that stands out for me in The Hunger Games is the way it engages (albeit brutally) a common motif in children's literature and movies: the nature of "good versus evil."  In that regard, this trilogy has a lot of company.  You don't have to look too far back to see Harry Potter in your rearview mirror.  C.S. Lewis' Perelandra and Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle In Time are other trilogies in the same vein.  Even the Star Wars saga of my generation - and the new trilogy of the current one - follows suit. 

In a sense I guess it shouldn't surprise us that this theme continues to crop up in media intended for a younger audience but experienced by all.  Kids are much more perceptive than we give them credit for and much more in-tune to the brokenness of the world in which they live.  One night a few weeks ago, my youngest son and I were flipping channels and happened upon the story of the American solider who murdered women and children civilians in Afghanistan.  Before I had a chance to quickly switch it to something else per my protective parental instincts, my son pipes up: "Daddy, why did that man do that?  That was wrong."  I tried in my feeble way to unpack some of the purported reasons, except things of such a horrific nature don't have a nice, neat answer.  Likewise, we're left racking our brains as to how President Snow and the Capitol can wield their complete power over the twelve districts and fully engage their sadistic cravings in The Hunger Games.  There is good and there is not-good; and sometimes we're one and sometimes the other.  Try explaining that to a seven-year old.

In truth, stories like The Hunger Games appeal to our young people - and society in general - because they tell a story of unexplainable violence, power struggles, abuse of power, hunger, poverty, etc. that is part of the world they're trying to grow up in.  I'm inclined to think that's a big part of the reason why the books have sold so many copies and the movie made $25 million in its first night.  We don't know what to do in the face of that kind of "evil;" and in some ways we find ourselves sitting right next to Katniss on that fallen tree in the arena, bawling our eyes out. 

So, two thoughts.  First, I found this article particularly helpful - a review of the movie written by a pacifist, nonetheless - that talks about how these books do a fabulous job of indicting violence by portraying violence.  Worth a read.

Second, I can't help but think back to a very different movie that came out in 1991. Grand Canyon didn't have sadistic dictators, evil wizards or man-machine hybrids with a strong tendency for the dark side of the force; but it nevertheless dealt very poignantly with the nature of evil in one particular scene.  Near the beginning of the movie, Kevin Kline’s character has his car break down in a bad part of East L.A. and is waiting on a two truck when five young men drive by, stop, and tell him to get out of his car.  Things are about to take a turn for the worst when the tow truck finally arrives.  The driver, played by Danny Glover, recognizes what's going on and asks the one in charge to let him do his job.  He tells him he's crazy.  And that's when a tow truck driver offers this little tidbit of wisdom on the streets of east L.A.:

You know, the world ain’t supposed to work like this.  Maybe you don’t know that, but this ain’t the way it’s supposed to be.  I’m supposed to be able to do my job without you asking if I can.  That dude is supposed to be able to wait with his car without you ripping him off. Everything’s supposed to be different than what it is.

(Note: There's a great YouTube clip of this scene, but it's totally in Spanish. Just my luck).

Stories like The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, Star Wars and many others appeal to our young folks - and people of all ages - because in their own way they echo Danny Glover's words: Everything's supposed to be different than what it is.  We enjoy reading about those who seek to act on this - people with names like Katniss, Harry and his friends, Luke Skywalker and others.  What's even better, though, are those in the real world who are trying to do the same thing.  Hopefully books and movies like The Hunger Games (and I'm over halfway through the second book) will help us cherish these folks more, and perhaps even inspire us in some small way to add our own name to the list.

Sign of the Times

1989.....

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-j379JbL-xM)

 

.....and 2011.....

(thanks to Jeremy Casella for sharing the pic)

So long, Rolling Stone

I did it. I hated to, but I did it.

This morning I called Rolling Stone magazine and canceled my subscription, effective immediately.

And it's not because I didn't like some article, because the truth is their writing is some of the best music journalism out there, consistently.  I didn't cancel it because it cost too much - $20 for two issues a month is an absolute steal.

I canceled my subscription to Rolling Stone because of their covers.

Have you seen them recently?  They're something else. And it's not what's on them as much as what's not on them.  Namely, clothes.  Or any shred of decency.  Check out the most recent issue and you'll find the crew of television's True Blood in the buff, splattered in some blood-like substance, positioning limbs and such to hide the bare essentials.  A few issues before it was Lady Gaga in some outfit made out of nothing but bubbles.  Shaun White squirting a water bottle in very close proximity to his crotch.  Some gals on a 2009 issue licking an ice cream cone as if it were something else.

And it's not like I'm a prude - I'm not.  It's not really about me at all, actually.  It's 100 % about my two young boys who share the same house with me, who see what I see, who are at that all-important impressionable age.  They recite funny lines of their favorite cartoon characters without thinking about it and without knowing what they mean.  They pick up bad habits from other kids in their summer day camp and adopt them as their own. The last thing they need to witness is Britney Spears' boobs. Or anything Britney Spears, really.

So for the past few years my wife and I have engaged in a little ritual.  She gets the mail during the day when I'm at work. If it's a Rolling Stone issue with a questionable cover (usually one in four, I've found), she puts it on top of our refrigerator, out of sight of little eyes.  And, consequently, out of mine.  I don't know they're up there and she forgets to tell me. Or maybe she doesn't forget.  Anyway, at some point I randomly check up there and find one or two issues, like the one with the Glee girl's underwear showing, or the aforementioned Lady Gaga in a very skimpy outfit holding some kind of rifle guns where her breasts should be.  I take the magazine down, tear off the cover and throw it in the trash, and go on to my reading.

For the longest time I was okay with this, until it hit me: why?  Why should we have to engage in this silly activity?  I subscribe to Sports Illustrated (more excellent journalism, it's true) and they let you opt out of the swimsuit issue (which I do).  Can't RS follow suit?  The better question, though is why in the world a publication of such high journalistic quality feels compelled to do this. I'm telling you, you won't find better, more honest album reviews anywhere else.  Their interviews are cutting-edge and extremely relevant to our time (I'm thinking of the General McChrystal interview that eventually cost him his job).  Their political commentary is biting and extremely informed.  And their photography - of well-known people wearing clothes - is excellent.  It's great stuff, and for the life of me I don't understand why RS feels they have to go all "shock-and-awe" on the cover.  Because the bottom line is that they don't need to do that to sell magazines. 

The lady on the other end of the phone this morning was about as engaged in my request to cancel as my cat is in calculus.  She took my information and said my cancellation was official and I would be getting a credit back.  Surprisingly, she did not ask me why I was canceling, which I thought was standard procedure.  So I volunteered the information for her - I told her about the kids, the total lack of need for them to do this.  I even tried to be funny: If I wanted soft porn I'd subscribe to Maxim, I said.  She didn't laugh.  She told me she would pass it on to some department whose name I can't remember.  She probably made it up on the spot.

I appreciate the refund.  What I'd really like, though, is a magazine that comments intelligently on the pulse of our culture, not caves in to its basest elements.  Perhaps that's asking too much of a publication in these economic times.  But I'd like to think we can expect more.  In the meantime, our refrigerator will be periodical-free.

Alice In Wonderland

I'm pretty psyched about seeing this movie, which opened last night. So is my seven-year old. I'd be interested in hearing from any of you who have seen it - kid-appropriate or not? (email subscribers click here)



Tim Burton is a genius. A weird genius, but a genius nonetheless. And all I can think when I see Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter is how those contacts must've hurt like you-know-what.  And how my wife much prefers him in Chocolat.

Avatar = Pocahontas 2.0?

My brother and I saw James Cameron's blockbuster Avatar over Christmas and liked it a lot. Still, we thought this was pretty funny:

(http://cdn-www.i-am-bored.com/media/49425_cameronavatarbookreport.jpg)

UPDATE 2.27.2010 - Not convinced the two are the same?  Check out this make-up trailer using the audio from Avatar's trailer and the video from Pocahontas.  Thanks to Dave Petri for sharing.

CFV 426 - Avatar/Pocahontas Mashup FINAL VERSION from Randy Szuch on Vimeo.

What I learned on Christmas vacation

Well, this is it.  Today brings my return to the "real world" after an extended holiday vacation.  "Extended" being a loose term in the ministry world after Christmas Eve services and a funeral this past Monday.  Nevertheless, it was some much-welcome R&R with family and friends.

The time off, as usual, gives me a chance to gain some perspective on things; perspective I don't always have when I'm running like crazy through an over-packed agenda.  I learned a lot over the course of this respite.  So I share with you now a list of "learnings," in no particular order.  You may find these intriguing or an insufferable bore.  I'm hoping for somewhere in the middle.  Here goes:

I learned that the guys who put together the plastic toys my sons got a-plenty for Christmas must be either the biggest secure freaks on the planet or sadistic jerks who simply want to make the parents of their recipients endure tremendous hardship trying to undo the wiring and screws (screws!) that keep their toys affixed to their packaging.

I learned that Wii is pretty awesome, when you kids let you play it.

I learned that the Draughn kids from our church (Logan, Andi and Claire) are amazing musicians with some freakish natural ability.  How else do you explain them coming up with this for our church's Christmas Eve service?

I learned that wearing Crocs outside to feed the dogs and clean their pens when its 20 degrees will make your feet cold.

I learned that while you never can truly home, it sure is cool to try anyway.  At least for a few days.

I learned that having a 75-pound Boxer running around your backyard when it's been raining for a few days will pretty much guarantee you're not going to have much of a backyard anymore.

I also learned that sharing a sofa bed with said Boxer when you bring in all the outside dogs in 15-degree nighttime weather, is not very restful; but it is still more restful than having a crated Jack Russel terrier mix next to your bed, which is what my wife had to endure.

I learned that Blindside was worth every bit of the hype.  I also learned it will be a crime if Sandra Bullock doesn't get an Oscar for her performance.

I learned that you feel old when you realize the guy you used to sit with on the school bus to elementary school every day, debating the merits of the UNC-NCSU basketball rivalry or who has the cooler dirt bike, is now four years away from sending his firstborn off to college.  That'll date ya.

I learned that I still like looking out in our front yard and seeing remnants of the snowman we made during the 8+ inches of the white stuff we got three weeks ago. Stout little fella, although considerably smaller.

I learned that nothing brightens my day quite like the smiles of my two boys.

I learned that Christmas sweets are the devil.  And for some reason we have them all over the house.  Our kitchen counter is covered with the stuff, and the boys are still making their way to the bottom of their Christmas stockings.  Heck, we've even got Halloween candy still floating around.  What's the point?

I learned that I have a very loving, understanding and patient wife.  I learn that one a lot.

I learned that planning for a sabbatical can be both exhausting and renewing at the same time.

I learned that I will not lose weight by sitting around watching football.  Would be cool if you could, though.

Speaking of football, I learned that an 8-8 season can feel pretty darn good when your team wins the last three games of their season with a second-string quarterback and the epitome of a patchwork offensive line. Yes, I'm talking about you, Carolina Panthers.  Let's give Matt Moore a shot at QB next year, shall we?

I learned that the word "anticipation" can be defined as "waiting for the Beatles Stereo Box set you ordered the minute your family gave you the last needed Amazon.com gift card."  Should be arriving very soon.

I learned that Facebook is even more addicting on vacation than it is when you're working.  Not good.

I learned that I like most White Stripe albums, and Bruce Springsteen's Magic is solid stuff, and the movie It Might Get Loud makes me really want to play electric guitar.

I learned that hands-down, my most favorite moment of the Advent/Christmas season at church takes place after our 7pm Christmas Eve Candlelight/Communion service.  I purposely send home all the wonderful elders and members who volunteer to help me close up shop, telling them they need to be with their families.  It's a generous gesture, but I must admit not totally altruistic.  I have a personal agenda in mind.   There is something incredibly peaceful and - yes, worshipful - about being in the church all by myself on Christmas Eve.  Especially when I close the door behind me and walk out to our upper parking lot, where the sky is lit up by the city Christmas tree next door and the street is still with slow Christmas Eve traffic.  It's beautiful, and I pause for a minute or two - something I probably haven't done much of for the previous few weeks.  I know when I get home I'll get caught up in all the preparations there, and the boys will never let us sleep a second past 6am.  So for that brief moment, there in the upper parking lot of First Presbyterian Church on Christmas Eve, I'm at peace.

And peace, per my last blog post, is a pretty good way to start the Christmas season, as well as the new year.  Bring on 2010.  I'm ready.

How the Wild Things Were

So this morning after getting the kids off to school, I asked the wife if she wanted to catch the 11am showing of the new movie Where The Wild Things Are.  She scrunched up her face a bit and made some comment about how the kids would be majorly bummed if they missed out.  Oh, yeah..... Turns out the wife got called to sub anyway.

Later that afternoon, the four of us made our way to the local cinema for a matinee showing.  The boys were excited - and to be honest, so was Dad.  Like them I associate this book with a large part of my childhood.  The storyline never quite made sense, at least in a logical, linear, adult-kind of way.  But the creatures looked great and the wild rumpus seemed like a lot of fun.  And in the end, as we all know, his supper was still hot.  All's well that ends well.

But like many people I was skeptical.  Ten sentences - that's all that makes up this children's classic.  How, pray tell, can anyone hope to fashion a major motion picture around this that a) refrains from taking ridiculous liberties that don't fit or b) sticks too strictly to the book and bores you to tears?  Enter director Spike Jonze, who brought his quirky visual sense to the table and forewarned in at least one interview that this would be different: “I didn’t set out to make a children’s film – I set out to make a film about childhood.”

Score.

I thought the movie was great.  I was pleased with how it expanded the story without changing the underlying theme of the book.  Without giving too much away, the movie hits hard on relationships in turmoil - both in the real world and extending into the "wild world."  Some might charge the movie with overreaching, but I'd disagree.  Remember, there was a reason Max was sent to his room without any supper, just as there was a reason that his room began transforming into a forest (which they didn't try to duplicate on the silver screen, one of my very few gripes with the movie).  Sendak never explained it, but it's classic escapism: of getting away from something and then coming to find, in the end, that the journey was fun while it lasted but it's time to go home.

The movie did an outstanding job of using the wild world as a showcase for Max's internal struggle, the primary subtext in the book (and part of the brilliance of Sendak's writing - again, ten sentences!) The main tool Jonze used to accomplish this was the movie's excellent dialogue, especially between Max and the wild things.  It didn't always flow in logical fashion and make total sense, leaving you to sometimes feel as if you missed out on the front end of a conversation.  But that's the whole point: this fantasy land is Max's psyche working out the angst and unease raging inside a twelve-year old boy. There isn't always going to be a "logical flow."  Throughout the movie there's this constant tug-of-war between the natural repulsion that exists in human relationships and our strong innate desire to just be with one another.  It happens in Max's relationships with the wild things, between the wild things themselves - and again, all of this sets the stage for Max's final trip back home through the turbulent oceans.

The kid who plays Max, ironically named Max himself (Max Records), nails the character dead-on.  You feel his struggle and sense his big heart at the same time.  The wonders of modern movie-making lend to some very believable wild things, seamlessly blending six-foot muppet-like costumes with CGI computer animation that bring their faces and facial expression to life.  Not bad voiceovers either (James Gandolfini of The Sopranos, Paul Dano, Forest Whitaker, among others).  Soundtrack-wise, Karen-O of Yeah Yeah Yeahs fame assembles a wonderfully-eclectic assortment of indie tunes that captures Max's emotional spectrum - and in the process has become one of the very few movie soundtracks I've ever bothered to purchase.

As we sat in the movie theater I was concerned that most of this was going over my boys' heads; too deep for them to comprehend, lying outside their emotional spectrum.  But I was pleasantly surprised when they sat through most of the movie in rapt attention, moreso than a lot of standard kid flicks.  They may not have grasped the specifics of Max's problems at home, but they understood that even people who love each other have hard times and can work to make amends.  Near the end, when Max says his emotional goodbye to the wild things as he boards his boat, I looked over and saw my eldest wiping tears from his face. Umm, yeah, I think they got it.  More and more I'm learning that kids are much more perceptive than we give them credit for.

In short I think Spike Jonze, like my two boys, "got it."  He was able to retell the famous tale using a story line that certainly embellished the original but didn't feel forced or "over the top."  In fact, I imagine it fleshed out some of what was originally going through Sendak's mind when he put paper to pen nearly 50 years ago.  You and your family should check it out, too.  "Bambi" this is not, but its beauty is found in its depth.  Definitely a movie experience worth your hard-earned cash.

 

How to (and not to) redo a classic Sci-fi Movie

Just got done watching two sci-fi movies in 48 hours - rented The Day the Earth Stood Still Saturday night and saw the new Star Trek movie today.  Which is kind of a big deal, as most of my movie watching these days is limited to whatever I happen upon as I'm channel-surfing TBS or TNT (which means I've seen Oceans Eleven and the Bourne flicks multiple times).  If I rent a movie it's typically not something for me (think Scooby-Doo or Spongebob - you get the idea), and my wife and I frequent the movie theater about as much as we have dates in general.  Ah, married life!

I didn't plan it this way, you know (I'm back to talking about the sci-fi movies).  I'd seen the big sign at Blockbuster about the remake of the 1951 classic and had a Saturday evening to kill while my wife was engrossed in reading Twilight.  And then today, on a whim, the DCE at the church and I had some program staff bonding time at the matinee of the latest installment in Gene Roddenberry's creation.  To make a poor attempt at a pun, sometimes the planets align like that (I told you it was poor).

What struck me was how underwhelmed I was with one movie and how impressed I was with the other.  Bet you're wondering which is which, aren't you?  I'll spare you the suspense.

I never saw the original version of The Day the Earth Stood Still (heretofore known as TDTESS), so I don't really have much to compare the newer version with.  I didn't know a whole lot about the story line either.  But here's the gist - an alien race has been keeping tabs on earth for a few million years and comes to the conclusion that everything has been great - except for those pesky humans, who mess it up for everything else.  So all animal life is removed from the planet in preparation for the total extermination of everything man-made - including, of course, all humans.  The animals would then be returned to bask in the joy of a human-less world.  The "twist" in the story is the character Klaatu, played by Keanu Reeves, who comes to earth to announce the end of humanity.  I don't think I'm giving away any huge story plot to inform you that the human race, in the end, is not annihilated; as Reeves' character comes to see the brighter side of humanity and averts an all-out catastrophe just in the nick of time.

I tried very hard to like this movie - I really did.  It had a lot of components that I'm typically drawn to - the whole "life outside this planet" thing, the threat of the end of the world (same reason I was drawn to The Day After Tomorrow and Deep Impact).  But it just didn't work for me.  About the only real bright spot came from witnessing the acting chops of little Jaden Smith, son of Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith.  This kid is amazing, folks; and if you saw him and his dad in The Pursuit of Happyness you know what I'm talking about.  He's got a future, I can tell you that.  Sadly, though, his latest movie does not. 

That was that movie.  And then there's the new Star Trek flick.  I'm no Trekkie by any stretch of the imagination, although on sleepless nights I've been known to wander downstairs and tune in to TV Land to catch some reruns (which promptly put me to sleep).  Still the hype surrounding this movie was enough to entice me.  That, and at the very least I admired the chutzpah of those involved in putting this together.  I know the place this story has in the science fiction world, and you just don't go messing with an institution like it unless you know what you're doing. 

This was a good movie, folks.  It obviously borrowed a lot from the original story line, but you never had the sense that they were outright copying everything.  It had a good story with lots of interesting twists that included a healthy dose of solid action scenes.  The casting, in my opinion, was dead-on.  Chris Pine played James T. Kirk wonderfully, Zachary Quinto nailed the vulcan-human balance of Spock, and Eric Bana was quite the vengeful fellow as the movie's antagonist.  Even bit appearances by Wynonna Rider, Bruce Greenwood and the illustrious Leonard Nimoy (as Spock too - part of the interesting plot twist) felt right.  Again, no big spoiler here, but in the end the good guys win and Kirk becomes the undisputed captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise.  The fact that you know this is coming before you set foot in the theater, and yet you still leave duly entertained, means they did a great job getting you there.

So - what's the difference between the two?  Why did one bomb and the other excel?  Well, to be fair I have to acknowledge that the new Star Trek film is not a remake but a prequel.  So it's not having to duplicate outright as TDTESS had to.  Then again, the Star Trek folks knew they were playing within a box they couldn't deviate much outside of, lest they receive the wrath of Star Trek nation.  They could tell a new story, but it had to be pretty darn close to the first one.

Here's my gripe about TDTESS.  First, it seems to make the failed assumption that a great story line automatically translates to a great movie.  Just because it worked the first time doesn't guarantee you success again.  Throughout the movie I kept having the feeling that they were messing up what could've been a good thing - it had so much potential, but they were blowing it at most every turn.  Good stories must be told well in order to be received well.  My other complaint about TDTESS is one that seems to undermine a lot of movies these days - especially sci-fi movies, and especially as technology changes the way movies are made.  And that is that a movie can't stand on special effects alone.  They did some pretty incredible special effects in TDTESS to be sure - but if the story line surrounding it is not strong enough, it doesn't mean much.  In fact, it winds up looking silly.

What did Star Trek do right?  Good casting, I felt; along with a great story line and special effects at just the right amount (not too much, not too little).  The movie also took a few risks here and there that seemed to pan out (the romantic relationship between Spock and Uhura being one - talk about a risk!)  I don't know if J.J. Abrams and the gang put years of thought into how all of this would go down, or if they just got reeeaaaally lucky.  Either way, they seemed to have hit all the right notes - and not just with the Trekkies, but with folks who had no real tie to any of the previous incarnations.  Now that takes some mad skill.

One day when I'm a movie maker I'll keep all of this in mind.  Till then friends, enjoy the movies.  Or, should I say, live long and prosper. 

You had to know that was coming, didn't you?  Please say you did.

One last thought:

 

"Marley & Me" a cute movie, but bring the kleenex

(NOTE TO READERS: this blog talks about a recently-released movie and how it ends.  I wouldn't call the ending a "surprise," but if you're planning on seeing it and want to do so with a completely clean slate, you may want to bookmark this page and come back later).

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You sure you want to do this?

That's what I said to my wife when she suggested that we all go see the movie Marley and Me on Saturday afternoon.  I love family movies - we don't do them a lot, mainly because, you know, we have bills to pay and stuff, and treating the gang to the theater experience may involve a second mortgage on the house.  But they're fun little rare outings, and the younger is just now getting to the age where he can actually get something out of it (and allow Mom and Dad to do the same).

We'd seen the funny movie commercials, and I've always liked Owen Wilson and thought Jennifer Aniston never quite got to show her acting chops on Friends.  But I also knew what else happened in the story, and I don't think I'm giving anything away here (the book has been out for a while now and most folks know the general story line).  Our family are big dog lovers - we've got three right now - and I just didn't know.  I was worried about how the boys would handle it, as well as my wife, who's a huge dog lover.  And truth be told, I was just as worried about how I would handle it too.

But there I was, standing in the long concessions line while the wife and kids went to stake out seats during the previews.  I feel a tug on my jacket, and turn around to see a friend.  "Whatcha here to see," he asks.  I tell him and he lets out a sigh.  "Man.  My family saw that yesterday.  Better take some kleenex."  He was going to see Tom Cruise's Valkyrie.  For a second I thought of going with him.

The movie itself is really cute.  Wilson and Aniston do a great job together.  The various dogs who play Marley at different points in his life are incredible - I just don't know how you get a dog to "act," you know?  It's wonderful fun for the family, although I wouldn't really call it a true "kid movie."  There are a few choice words thrown around and there's a bedroom scene that doesn't go anywhere but certainly leaves little to the imagination.  Still, the boys seemed to enjoy all the cute dog scenes.  And in many ways the movie is not just about a dog.  It's about a family and the many transitions - expected and unexpected - that life can throw at you.  Very well done.

But about halfway through the movie little things happen and you can see where it's going.  Marley doesn't chew things up like he used to.  Marley can't make it up the stairs.  All of this is hitting home, for two reasons.  One, we have a much beloved golden retriever in our house who is getting up there in years and showing some of the same signs.  Second, back in the fall of 2006, the dog that had been with me since before I was married - Bailey - contracted a very aggressive form of cancer.  Surgery would’ve given her only an additional 4-6 months at best - you get the picture.  I certainly had memories of Bailey running through my mind as I watched this movie.  I had the kleenex close at hand, and it wasn't just my wife and eldest who made use of them.

While the movie went a little over our youngest's head, the elder and I had a good honest conversation when we got home.  The movie has a pretty straight-forward scene in the vet's office near the end, and I wanted to make sure he understood what he saw.  He did.  As any parent I'm pained when my child struggles with their emotions.  I don't like for them to hurt.  But as much as we try, we parents simply cannot protect our kids from the inevitable realities of life.  As my wife said before we went - death is a part of life, they're going to be faced with it anyway.  As usual, she was right.  I'd rather face it as a family and have time to talk about it together than leave them up to their own devices.

Now, a few hours removed, I'm not sure what this blog is exactly about.  It's not really a movie review.  Although if it were, I think I'd borrow my son's thoughts upon exiting the theater: I liked the movie, Daddy - but I hated the ending.  Out of the mouths of babes....

And this blog is not really a piece on dealing with loss, either.  Although I'm a big believer that we as a society tend to minimize the loss of pets, much to our detriment.  Folks are less likely to "trouble" their friends and pastor about a sick or dying pet.  But for many of us, pets are important members of our family, and their loss is significant.  We should feel just as comfortable allowing others to support us in these types of losses too.

Perhaps this blog is about me as a human being processing a deeply emotional experience and not being ashamed of it.  And yes, I do wonder if we would've been better partaking of something a little more "uplifting" just a few days removed from Christmas.  But then I think: if this season is about celebrating the gifts of loved ones in our lives, certainly this applies to those who walk on four legs as well as those who walk on two.  I can tell you this - I'll be hugging my kids a little tighter tonight and spending a little more time petting the family dog.  And I'll be thanking my wife for suggesting we head to the movie theater today.

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POSTSCRIPT: Just in case you're interested, here's a poem that someone gave me when Bailey died that I found incredibly comforting.  And for a good children's book dealing with the death of a pet, I'd suggest Goodbye Mousie by Robie Harris.

Signs of a Mayberry Christmas, Pt. 3

Remember this?  A classic Christmas movie.  A Christmas Story came out in 1983, the year I was a high school freshman.  Somehow I totally missed this movie.  It took my wife to introduce it to me during our first Christmas together.  We watched it and I lamented the 16 years it had gone unnoticed in my life. 

The story follows the saga of young Ralphie Parker and his family living somewhere in Northern Indiana, with the Christmas season approaching.  Ralphie's Christmas wish list is only one item long: an "official Red Rider Carbine-Action Two-Hundred- Shot Range Model Air Rifle" (you have to say it real fast to get the full effect).  Throughout the movie Ralphie's efforts seem to be for naught, as everyone from his parents to the shopping mall Santa responds with disdain, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!" 

This is the overarching story, but the movie is full of various little montages along the way - all of which are downright hilarious.  There's the kid who gets his tongue stuck to the frozen flag pole, the boys' trip to see Santa at the mall, Ralphie's "O Fudge" moment, the fight scene....there are just so many of them.  Basically you need to rent it or watch it on cable TV (usually TBS shows it non-stop on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so you'll certainly have the opportunity).

One of the classic moments of the film takes place when Ralphie's Dad, otherwise known as "the old man," receives a "major award" in the mail from some contest he won.  Watch:

Ah, the leg lamp.  The old man goes nuts over it.  Obviously Ralphie's mom is less than thrilled but is either in shock or doesn't want to rain on her husband's parade, or both.  The kids are just dumbfounded, and there's no telling what's running through their minds.  Then the whole neighborhood is brought in on it as well, all of which makes for a great scene.

So what does all of this have to do with Mount Airy and the signs of a Mayberry Christmas?  Well....

See, there's this neat little house on Main Street in Mount Airy - a cute two-story traditional with the front porch all the way across.  The house is just a few blocks up from where the family and I watched the Christmas parade a week ago.  It belongs to some friends of ours - the lady works in the Main Oak Emporium, which houses our favorite coffee house, the Good Life Cafe.  The husband and wife are known for decorating their house to the hilt for the particular season, especially Halloween.  You gotta appreciate people who understand that living in such a visible location means keeping the many passersby duly entertained.

As you can see, the house is in full Christmas mode - wreaths on the door and banister, illuminated present porch art.....and say, what's that in the window on the left?  Looks familiar.  Let's get a closer look, shall we?

Well, whadya know!  The leg lamp from A Christmas Story, on Main St. in Mount Airy.  It's lit about every evening at dusk, and they usually turn it off no later than 9pm, given that they tend to hit the sack on the early side.  But for a good three hours or so, this little bit of holiday cinematic wonder shines forth for all Mayberry to see.

I wonder how many other small towns across America have a leg lamp shining forth from their Main Street?  I bet not many.

Incidentally, if you're thinking about adding one of these to your collection, I'd do what the old man didn't do and check with the wife first.  Then go here.

As the old man said, "Oh boy, oh boy - would you look at that?! It reminds me of the fourth of July!"  Not sure what he meant by that, but it doesn't really matter.  That movie scene makes me smile every time I see it and helps get me a little more into the seasonal spirit.  And so does the infamous leg lap in the window of the house on Main St. in good ol' Mayberry.  The Parker family would be proud.  Not quite sure what Barney would think.