She paints portraits with overly-exaggerated “big eyes,” the windows to the painting’s soul. Her flim-flam second husband tells the world that he paints the pictures and he is furious when she challenges him on so doing. Lots of time passes; his is filled with notoriety and money, while hers is filled with anguish about which she does nothing.
Finally, a decade down the road, she confronts her husband, runs away to Hawaii, sues him for divorce, and then comes out in court with the truth about her artistic endeavors. She wins, he loses, the movie mercifully ends.
When it takes 100+ minutes to tell a 10-minute story, it isn’t a good movie-going experience.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Wild
With the title Wild and the premise an 1100-mile hike for which a hiker is woefully unprepared, one would think that the movie would be dramatic and dangerous and even a bit engaging. The Reese Witherspoon film, however, is almost boring as it’s the story of a young woman taking a Sunday walk that is extended to fit into a 2-hour time frame.
One distraction is that Witherspoon never “weathers.” Another character mentions her body odor, but the character’s clothes aren’t filthy and her hair isn’t that dirty. She takes a long shower that features dirt washing off her body, but she never appears to be that dirty in the film. Her face remains untouched even by the extreme desert sun. Anyone else hiking through the desert would show signs of sunburn, but Witherspoon's face remains untouched by the elements.
She comes across a rattlesnake in the desert early on in the film, but doesn’t freak out: she calmly steps widely around it and goes on with her walk. In a potential rape scene, she stands, stares, and doesn’t say a word: she relies on divine intervention to save her, which, of course, it does. When she encounters the fields of snow, she trudges on, seemingly without a care in the world. Even losing her boots is a magic moment as she duck tapes some sandals to her feet and goes on her merry way.
There is no dramatic tension, no inciting incident that makes the hike terrifying. Her past flies in and out of the film, with Laura Dern, the actress playing Witherspoon’s dead mother, stealing the movie. The hike becomes second fiddle to the death of her beloved mother, so the hike loses its focus as the coming of age journey of a woman who cannot accept her mother’s death. Even her past drug use and engaging in promiscuous sex aren't shocking. And the appearance of her spirit guide, a red fox, takes away from the story, rather than adding a dramatic element.
I would not recommend this movie, even as a rental to view at home, because the movie just doesn' work on so many levels. I found the movie lacking from the beginning to the sudden stop. Yes, there is no ending, no denouement; it just shows her standing on a bridge and seeing for the last time, we presume, the red fox. A voice-over informs the audience that she later marries and has children, then we’re done. And, as far as a nomination for Witherspoon for an Oscar, believe me when I tell you that her acting is not worthy of that pestigious award!
One distraction is that Witherspoon never “weathers.” Another character mentions her body odor, but the character’s clothes aren’t filthy and her hair isn’t that dirty. She takes a long shower that features dirt washing off her body, but she never appears to be that dirty in the film. Her face remains untouched even by the extreme desert sun. Anyone else hiking through the desert would show signs of sunburn, but Witherspoon's face remains untouched by the elements.
She comes across a rattlesnake in the desert early on in the film, but doesn’t freak out: she calmly steps widely around it and goes on with her walk. In a potential rape scene, she stands, stares, and doesn’t say a word: she relies on divine intervention to save her, which, of course, it does. When she encounters the fields of snow, she trudges on, seemingly without a care in the world. Even losing her boots is a magic moment as she duck tapes some sandals to her feet and goes on her merry way.
There is no dramatic tension, no inciting incident that makes the hike terrifying. Her past flies in and out of the film, with Laura Dern, the actress playing Witherspoon’s dead mother, stealing the movie. The hike becomes second fiddle to the death of her beloved mother, so the hike loses its focus as the coming of age journey of a woman who cannot accept her mother’s death. Even her past drug use and engaging in promiscuous sex aren't shocking. And the appearance of her spirit guide, a red fox, takes away from the story, rather than adding a dramatic element.
I would not recommend this movie, even as a rental to view at home, because the movie just doesn' work on so many levels. I found the movie lacking from the beginning to the sudden stop. Yes, there is no ending, no denouement; it just shows her standing on a bridge and seeing for the last time, we presume, the red fox. A voice-over informs the audience that she later marries and has children, then we’re done. And, as far as a nomination for Witherspoon for an Oscar, believe me when I tell you that her acting is not worthy of that pestigious award!
Friday, December 19, 2014
Old Ladies
When I look into the mirror, I see a smiling woman with blue eyes, fair skin, and an upbeat look about me. However, when I go to the gym to work out in front of a different mirror, I see a tired, fat, lumpy old woman. The only way I can think to change this reality is to buy a magic mirror for the gym as I sure as heck don’t want the distorted image in my bathroom, too. I’m not sure when one makes the great leap from older to old, but I know I’m on the path to that destination.
Yesterday, we had the cookie exchange and all of the participants were born in the 1940s. What a treat it was to have shared memories and experiences! I knew it was going to be a good group when all of our names were good, strong woman names that used to be more popular than the “cute” names today’s mothers are giving their children. Apple, North, Tyler (for both boys and girls), Cassidy: maybe they are cute when the kids are young, but what about when they get older? Believe it or not, I heard a comment on TV that eight (8) parents named their child “ABCDE” last year. I have no idea how to pronounce it, much less the significance of the name, but there it is.
We talked about how we all used to sit at the table together for family dinner, no phone calls allowed during dinner (the phone was in the hallway), and had to share about our day. I laughed at Y yesterday when I took him out for a burger and he burrowed his head in his electronic device screen. I told him I was the only other person at the table – and I thought we’d talk about our day, not cut ourselves off from communication. He took the hint and put his phone away.
We talked about dating back then versus today’s speed dating. We used to go out with a man many times before he kissed us good night – and that kiss was special because we waited for it. When we became so involved that sex was becoming part of the relationship, we got engaged because, after all, no woman is going to “put out” without having some assurance that she’s doing that with the right man and not just any ole man who comes along. The idea of having sex with someone you just met was foreign and forbidden. Besides, we all knew “those girls” the guys could call if they needed physical relief, but they also knew the “good girls,” the ones you could date and possibly marry somewhere down the road.
We talked about raising our children to be respectful and obedient whether they wanted to be or not. A smack across the rear end usually was enough to get the child’s attention, but if more was needed, the unruly child was sent to his/her bedroom to think about it because there was nothing else to do in one’s bedroom except sleep. No TVs, no stereos, no computers, no sexy lingerie for the younger girls to video and post on YOUTUBE, no phones for contact with the outside world. Just a plain little room with a bed, dresser, and closet. Boring, and highly effective punishment at that time.
Our talk also turned to husbands and the understanding that all women had for the husband, often based on TV shows, such as Ozzy and Harriet, Desi and Luci and even All in the Family in later years. Men went to work, came home for dinner, and spent the evening with the family. Once the children were in bed, the couple discussed family issues, work issues, and maybe even (once in a while) personal issues. We pretty much knew the man’s position on most topics, but had to be sure that he knew our positions on family topics too. We didn’t disagree in front of the children because we talked about possible issues before they arose and knew what we’d say/do in a certain situation.
I sat back and listened to the other gals talking and saw their faces lighten, their wrinkles soften, their smiles widen as we all took that walk back down memory lane. I felt younger than my years because that’s where we each went in our own minds and experience. My next birthday is going to be a big one, one of those seminal moments in which time stands still and you just have to be present and get through it. I know the number conjures up an image far different than the person I see in the bathroom mirror, but I’m just not ready to accept either … yet.
I’m glad I was able to participate in the party. It was just what I needed yesterday.
Yesterday, we had the cookie exchange and all of the participants were born in the 1940s. What a treat it was to have shared memories and experiences! I knew it was going to be a good group when all of our names were good, strong woman names that used to be more popular than the “cute” names today’s mothers are giving their children. Apple, North, Tyler (for both boys and girls), Cassidy: maybe they are cute when the kids are young, but what about when they get older? Believe it or not, I heard a comment on TV that eight (8) parents named their child “ABCDE” last year. I have no idea how to pronounce it, much less the significance of the name, but there it is.
We talked about how we all used to sit at the table together for family dinner, no phone calls allowed during dinner (the phone was in the hallway), and had to share about our day. I laughed at Y yesterday when I took him out for a burger and he burrowed his head in his electronic device screen. I told him I was the only other person at the table – and I thought we’d talk about our day, not cut ourselves off from communication. He took the hint and put his phone away.
We talked about dating back then versus today’s speed dating. We used to go out with a man many times before he kissed us good night – and that kiss was special because we waited for it. When we became so involved that sex was becoming part of the relationship, we got engaged because, after all, no woman is going to “put out” without having some assurance that she’s doing that with the right man and not just any ole man who comes along. The idea of having sex with someone you just met was foreign and forbidden. Besides, we all knew “those girls” the guys could call if they needed physical relief, but they also knew the “good girls,” the ones you could date and possibly marry somewhere down the road.
We talked about raising our children to be respectful and obedient whether they wanted to be or not. A smack across the rear end usually was enough to get the child’s attention, but if more was needed, the unruly child was sent to his/her bedroom to think about it because there was nothing else to do in one’s bedroom except sleep. No TVs, no stereos, no computers, no sexy lingerie for the younger girls to video and post on YOUTUBE, no phones for contact with the outside world. Just a plain little room with a bed, dresser, and closet. Boring, and highly effective punishment at that time.
Our talk also turned to husbands and the understanding that all women had for the husband, often based on TV shows, such as Ozzy and Harriet, Desi and Luci and even All in the Family in later years. Men went to work, came home for dinner, and spent the evening with the family. Once the children were in bed, the couple discussed family issues, work issues, and maybe even (once in a while) personal issues. We pretty much knew the man’s position on most topics, but had to be sure that he knew our positions on family topics too. We didn’t disagree in front of the children because we talked about possible issues before they arose and knew what we’d say/do in a certain situation.
I sat back and listened to the other gals talking and saw their faces lighten, their wrinkles soften, their smiles widen as we all took that walk back down memory lane. I felt younger than my years because that’s where we each went in our own minds and experience. My next birthday is going to be a big one, one of those seminal moments in which time stands still and you just have to be present and get through it. I know the number conjures up an image far different than the person I see in the bathroom mirror, but I’m just not ready to accept either … yet.
I’m glad I was able to participate in the party. It was just what I needed yesterday.
Cookie Exchange
No matter how hard I try to stay away from the Christmas goodies, I find a way to be in a situation where I have to eat (and, I'll admit, enjoy) all manner of Christmas baking products. This time a close friend was reminscing with me about her mother's cookie exchanges, and we decided what a great idea. Since she is truly the best hostess in the world, she offered to hold the party and make quiche for luncheon, along with her yummy salad with spinach and strawberries in it. What she failed to mention was that she was also going to make the absolutely best pumpkin dessert I've ever eaten.
And, yes, I did eat a generous serving after taking one sample bite, then I asked for the recipe.
All you do is take a can of pumpkin (29 ounces, not mix) and pour it into a mixing bowl. Then add 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/2 tsp cloves, 3/4 tsp salt, 1 cup sugar (she said some people add 1-1/2 cups of sugar), 3 eggs and a 12-oz can evaporated milk. Mix it well so all the ingredients blend, then pour it into a 9 X 13" casserole dish.
Next, mix together 1 pkg dry yellow cake mix (with pudding works well), 1 cup chopped pecans (or walnuts, if that's what's in the pantry). Spread this dry crumbly mixture evenly over the pumpkin mixture in the casserole dish.
Finally, melt a cube of butter and pour it evenly over the dry cake mixture.
Bake in a 350 oven for about 45-55 minutes (until a knife inserted into the dessert comes out clean).
Cool, then refrigerate until serving with generous heaps of whipped cream.
It is hard to believe how good this dessert is AND how much better than a plain ole punkin' pie it is!!!
And, yes, I did eat a generous serving after taking one sample bite, then I asked for the recipe.
All you do is take a can of pumpkin (29 ounces, not mix) and pour it into a mixing bowl. Then add 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/2 tsp cloves, 3/4 tsp salt, 1 cup sugar (she said some people add 1-1/2 cups of sugar), 3 eggs and a 12-oz can evaporated milk. Mix it well so all the ingredients blend, then pour it into a 9 X 13" casserole dish.
Next, mix together 1 pkg dry yellow cake mix (with pudding works well), 1 cup chopped pecans (or walnuts, if that's what's in the pantry). Spread this dry crumbly mixture evenly over the pumpkin mixture in the casserole dish.
Finally, melt a cube of butter and pour it evenly over the dry cake mixture.
Bake in a 350 oven for about 45-55 minutes (until a knife inserted into the dessert comes out clean).
Cool, then refrigerate until serving with generous heaps of whipped cream.
It is hard to believe how good this dessert is AND how much better than a plain ole punkin' pie it is!!!
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Taste Test
The Fearless Flyer from Trader Joe’s arrived in the mailbox last week, and this time, rather than tossing it into the recycle bin, I read it. The copywriters are quite clever and make each of the entries intriguing enough that I made a decision: buy at least a dozen different items and taste test them.
The first step was reading the flyer, from Triple Ginger Brew through Gingerbread = Joyous Jubilation (which the flyer spelled with an extra I after the L). Along the way I found French Truffle Chevre, which was okay, but the overly strong taste of the cheese over-powered the milder taste of the MultiGrain Pita Bite Crackers that I really loved. I also tried Still the Best Thing Since Sliced Bree, which I featured on a toasted cheese and lunch meat sandwich, but it had far too much rind to deal with when compared with a simple round of bree. The Honey Walnut Fig Cream Cheese was delicious and deserves to be the featured spread on a cinnamon roll, not a spread on a savory cracker.
The tiny roll of Truffle Salami was far too expensive and too small. The delicious taste of the salami led to wanting to eat a lot more of it than was advisable at one sitting, and I suspect I’ll return for another tiny log of this product next time I’m in the neighborhood of a Trader Joe’s. I have yet to eat the Brie En Croute, the Scallops Wrapped in Bacon, and/or the Bite of Wellington. Eight, Actually, which is individual bites, rather than a roast or a slice of Wellington. The Porchetta Pork Roast is scheduled for dinner tonight, a somewhat small roast with a very robust price, so we better like it – a lot. The Petite Fig, Pear and Cranberry Tart is by far the best bite I’ve had, but then my favorite foods come from the bakery.
Jingle Jangle is a tin filled with an assortment of “things” that taste terrific bathed in chocolate, and it only makes an appearance during the holidays. Nestled next to that canister, I placed a 30-ounce tin of Toffee, which I probably could eat in one sitting. My daughter makes the best toffee I’ve ever eaten, but this toffee is almost as delicious as hers. I also bought a box of sea salt topped caramels, a holiday staple for a friend who enjoys getting a box for under her tree. Finally, I bought a snack bar called “This Cranberry Walks Into a Bar… .” It is no better nor worse than any other snack bar, but it’s only available during the holiday season due to the cranberry filling.
The result of my shopping spree and taste testing is that I don’t understand why so many people crowd their way through Trader Joe’s to snap up grocery items they could buy elsewhere at a lower price. Sure, there are organic and vegan and vegetarian items there that may not be readily available at more commercial markets, but are those products worth the Trader’s price? The store was packed with people snapping up the Fearless Flyer items, as well as baskets filled with other holiday goodies, and five lines worked quickly and efficiently to check out each patron with a personal greeting and a smile, which is not often the experience at other, larger markets. It was fun once, but my experience, as well as my taste-testing, will not lead me to drive out of my way to find a Trader Joe’s and make purchases unless it’s really something special, like the pork porchetta, that I want for a special occasion.
The first step was reading the flyer, from Triple Ginger Brew through Gingerbread = Joyous Jubilation (which the flyer spelled with an extra I after the L). Along the way I found French Truffle Chevre, which was okay, but the overly strong taste of the cheese over-powered the milder taste of the MultiGrain Pita Bite Crackers that I really loved. I also tried Still the Best Thing Since Sliced Bree, which I featured on a toasted cheese and lunch meat sandwich, but it had far too much rind to deal with when compared with a simple round of bree. The Honey Walnut Fig Cream Cheese was delicious and deserves to be the featured spread on a cinnamon roll, not a spread on a savory cracker.
The tiny roll of Truffle Salami was far too expensive and too small. The delicious taste of the salami led to wanting to eat a lot more of it than was advisable at one sitting, and I suspect I’ll return for another tiny log of this product next time I’m in the neighborhood of a Trader Joe’s. I have yet to eat the Brie En Croute, the Scallops Wrapped in Bacon, and/or the Bite of Wellington. Eight, Actually, which is individual bites, rather than a roast or a slice of Wellington. The Porchetta Pork Roast is scheduled for dinner tonight, a somewhat small roast with a very robust price, so we better like it – a lot. The Petite Fig, Pear and Cranberry Tart is by far the best bite I’ve had, but then my favorite foods come from the bakery.
Jingle Jangle is a tin filled with an assortment of “things” that taste terrific bathed in chocolate, and it only makes an appearance during the holidays. Nestled next to that canister, I placed a 30-ounce tin of Toffee, which I probably could eat in one sitting. My daughter makes the best toffee I’ve ever eaten, but this toffee is almost as delicious as hers. I also bought a box of sea salt topped caramels, a holiday staple for a friend who enjoys getting a box for under her tree. Finally, I bought a snack bar called “This Cranberry Walks Into a Bar… .” It is no better nor worse than any other snack bar, but it’s only available during the holiday season due to the cranberry filling.
The result of my shopping spree and taste testing is that I don’t understand why so many people crowd their way through Trader Joe’s to snap up grocery items they could buy elsewhere at a lower price. Sure, there are organic and vegan and vegetarian items there that may not be readily available at more commercial markets, but are those products worth the Trader’s price? The store was packed with people snapping up the Fearless Flyer items, as well as baskets filled with other holiday goodies, and five lines worked quickly and efficiently to check out each patron with a personal greeting and a smile, which is not often the experience at other, larger markets. It was fun once, but my experience, as well as my taste-testing, will not lead me to drive out of my way to find a Trader Joe’s and make purchases unless it’s really something special, like the pork porchetta, that I want for a special occasion.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Drastic Steps
My body is a foreign creature to which the rest of me is attached. I've mostly been a thin person, but have become a jiggly fat belly hanging over my abdomen all the way to the tops of my legs. It feels awful, it looks awful, and it is awful as I continue to age and become more susceptible to old-timers' diseases and ailments. After realizing that I needed to do something more than just walking the dogs, I started going to the gym with Yucheng and stretching my back, then using the treadmill for a half hour (the limits to my endurance).
Today, I decided I need help with targeting exercises that can address two specific areas: the bloated jelly belly and my lower back. I have absolutely NO flexibility in any movement that I've tried, which will only continue to progress until I'm frozen in a hunched over standing position. I have limited endurance, but I know that will improve once I get a handle on the jelly belly. Last week, I took a exercise class designed for seniors (you know, old people), and was embarassed that I could NOT do most of the movements. Touching my toes used to be easy, but now? It's impossible.
Today, I hired one of the gym trainers to work with me for 10 appointments, an hour each, to develop an individualized program for my body and my low level of fitness. It will progress through the weeks as I learn to do movements correctly (so I don't hurt myself) that are appropriate for specific fitness goals.
Yep, I'm serious about this as I paid as much an hour for a physical fitness trainer as I was paid to teach college classes -- with a Master's degree! I'm not one to spend money foolishly, so I expect to be trained and worked out for the next 10 lessons and then, hopefully, be able to continue with the routine without the aid of the trainer.
Today, I decided I need help with targeting exercises that can address two specific areas: the bloated jelly belly and my lower back. I have absolutely NO flexibility in any movement that I've tried, which will only continue to progress until I'm frozen in a hunched over standing position. I have limited endurance, but I know that will improve once I get a handle on the jelly belly. Last week, I took a exercise class designed for seniors (you know, old people), and was embarassed that I could NOT do most of the movements. Touching my toes used to be easy, but now? It's impossible.
Today, I hired one of the gym trainers to work with me for 10 appointments, an hour each, to develop an individualized program for my body and my low level of fitness. It will progress through the weeks as I learn to do movements correctly (so I don't hurt myself) that are appropriate for specific fitness goals.
Yep, I'm serious about this as I paid as much an hour for a physical fitness trainer as I was paid to teach college classes -- with a Master's degree! I'm not one to spend money foolishly, so I expect to be trained and worked out for the next 10 lessons and then, hopefully, be able to continue with the routine without the aid of the trainer.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
The Dentist's Drill
I went for my annual dental check-up a couple of months back and was told that my teeth are aging right along with the rest of me. An old bridge was due to collapse, so that became a pricey priority, with $3500 due at the time service was provided. Now, after 4 weeks of various appointments, it's a nice-looking bridge and fits really well, but I had intended to us my annual dispersement from my retirement fund to replace the flooring in my master bedroom, not for a dental device.
Along with the new bridge came extreme sensitivity to both heat and cold, sensitivity to the point of screaming in pain when I took a big gulp of my favorite hot chai tea latte. A trip back into the dental chair determined that I could have a root problem flaring up, so we put some magical medicine on the teeth and gave it a week. It got worse; much worse. I went back again and we tried the magical medicine again, but it didn't work any better than it had the first go-round, so I stopped by the office Monday and waved the white flag of surrender to whatever it would take to make the pain go away.
What it took was a root canal, $900 due at the time of service. Of course. If you're doing Liza Logic, we're now up to spending $4400 on fixing aging teeth, rather than in running amok and having a great time somewhere doing something outrageous. Or replacing the bedroom carpeting with something the dog has not peed on. Yet.
As I sat in the chair today, I thought how much different my teaching experience would have been if I earned $900 an hour and had a full-time assistant right there, doing all the "grunt" work while I was merely the highly paid professional teaching star of the show.
The good news is, at the end of the hour, I was finished and yes, it looks really great; however, the test was hot chai tea latte -- which, I'm happy to say -- went into the mouth, swirled around, and was swallowed with absolutely no pain whatsoever. So, I guess in some ways it is worth whatever it cost to get rid of the pain and have one whole side of my mouth updated with new porcelain fillings. Right? I mean, who needs to go on another cruise? or go visit her children over the holidays? or buy holiday gifts for that matter? And, I still have another 24 or so teeth that probably will require advanced dental care in my future.
Ah, the joys of living longer and having all this discretionary income at my disposal.
Along with the new bridge came extreme sensitivity to both heat and cold, sensitivity to the point of screaming in pain when I took a big gulp of my favorite hot chai tea latte. A trip back into the dental chair determined that I could have a root problem flaring up, so we put some magical medicine on the teeth and gave it a week. It got worse; much worse. I went back again and we tried the magical medicine again, but it didn't work any better than it had the first go-round, so I stopped by the office Monday and waved the white flag of surrender to whatever it would take to make the pain go away.
What it took was a root canal, $900 due at the time of service. Of course. If you're doing Liza Logic, we're now up to spending $4400 on fixing aging teeth, rather than in running amok and having a great time somewhere doing something outrageous. Or replacing the bedroom carpeting with something the dog has not peed on. Yet.
As I sat in the chair today, I thought how much different my teaching experience would have been if I earned $900 an hour and had a full-time assistant right there, doing all the "grunt" work while I was merely the highly paid professional teaching star of the show.
The good news is, at the end of the hour, I was finished and yes, it looks really great; however, the test was hot chai tea latte -- which, I'm happy to say -- went into the mouth, swirled around, and was swallowed with absolutely no pain whatsoever. So, I guess in some ways it is worth whatever it cost to get rid of the pain and have one whole side of my mouth updated with new porcelain fillings. Right? I mean, who needs to go on another cruise? or go visit her children over the holidays? or buy holiday gifts for that matter? And, I still have another 24 or so teeth that probably will require advanced dental care in my future.
Ah, the joys of living longer and having all this discretionary income at my disposal.
Father and Son
The Judge is about a father, who is a judge, and his son, who is an attorney. Both father and son are strong-willed and pig-headed, but somewhere beneath all the public posturing are human beings who care about each other. Neither father nor son will back down from a conflict, but when push comes to shove, they have each other's backs. The movie centers around a trial over which the father presides and the son defends the accused, but the story is so much more than just that simple premise.
In the middle is a family story, three sons who are as completely dissimilar as most of our own families. The eldest son lost a potential professional career in baseball, the middle son is the beligerent lawyer, and the youngest son is developmentally disabled. Their interactions focus on a strong bond between them that isn't fully explained until toward the latter part of the film.
What's the best part of the movie is the ending, which is appropriate and completely right for what's come before. I'm not giving any other details about the film because in a coming of age film, it spoils the story to know too much before participating in the viewing. It's well worth the price of admission and reminds me of the long ago film with Jane Fonda and her father, the irascible Henry Fonda, On Golden Pond (1981).
In the middle is a family story, three sons who are as completely dissimilar as most of our own families. The eldest son lost a potential professional career in baseball, the middle son is the beligerent lawyer, and the youngest son is developmentally disabled. Their interactions focus on a strong bond between them that isn't fully explained until toward the latter part of the film.
What's the best part of the movie is the ending, which is appropriate and completely right for what's come before. I'm not giving any other details about the film because in a coming of age film, it spoils the story to know too much before participating in the viewing. It's well worth the price of admission and reminds me of the long ago film with Jane Fonda and her father, the irascible Henry Fonda, On Golden Pond (1981).
Friday, October 10, 2014
Gone Girl
I read the book and saw the movie this past week. I enjoyed both treatments of the story, but favor the novel as it develops in a more chilling manner and the last 10 or so chapters provide a better conclusion than the film. If you haven't read the book, the movie works well in gathering you into the story and walking with you through the ending, but then I recommend you read the book for the rest of the story.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Rave Restaurant Review
I love a good monte cristo sandwich, and I've ordered and eaten this sandwich in many different restaurants in many different places over the many years of my life. Sometimes, I've had a good sandwich, but more often I am served an okay monte cristo: good enough to eat, but not really great.
Melvyn's in Palm Springs is old-school fine dining. It comes with a history, including Frank Sinatra's wedding and reception, as well as the weddings of a couple of my friends. It's somewhat secluded so you don't see the people rushing by on the city streets, nor do you hear lots of traffic sounds. It's beautifully landscaped and the service is impeccible. The girls were looking forward to lunch at Mervyns as it was both of their birthdays within the past month, but this was the first time we've all been together at the same time and in the same place.
The monte cristo sandwich is the best I've ever eaten anywhere anytime at any price. The bread was perfectly deep-fried and lightly dusted with powdered sugar, crisp without being soggy from too much/old grease. The cheese was wonderfully gooey, the ham delicious, and having my own little jar of raspberry preserves was a nice touch. Believe me, I was going to finish my sandwich if I had to stay until dinner service began because it was too delicious not to enjoy totally.
Anyone who comes to PS can eat in the many restaurants on the main thoroughfare, but if you want special treatment and delicious food, one block south of Palm Canyon Drive, off Ramon Road is Melvyn's, still one of the finest Palm Springs restaurants. Open for lunch and dinner; reservations recommended.
Melvyn's in Palm Springs is old-school fine dining. It comes with a history, including Frank Sinatra's wedding and reception, as well as the weddings of a couple of my friends. It's somewhat secluded so you don't see the people rushing by on the city streets, nor do you hear lots of traffic sounds. It's beautifully landscaped and the service is impeccible. The girls were looking forward to lunch at Mervyns as it was both of their birthdays within the past month, but this was the first time we've all been together at the same time and in the same place.
The monte cristo sandwich is the best I've ever eaten anywhere anytime at any price. The bread was perfectly deep-fried and lightly dusted with powdered sugar, crisp without being soggy from too much/old grease. The cheese was wonderfully gooey, the ham delicious, and having my own little jar of raspberry preserves was a nice touch. Believe me, I was going to finish my sandwich if I had to stay until dinner service began because it was too delicious not to enjoy totally.
Anyone who comes to PS can eat in the many restaurants on the main thoroughfare, but if you want special treatment and delicious food, one block south of Palm Canyon Drive, off Ramon Road is Melvyn's, still one of the finest Palm Springs restaurants. Open for lunch and dinner; reservations recommended.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Menu Item
So, I arrived at Applebee's hungry and perused the meno to find just the right meal to satisfy my appetite. There it was: 4-Cheese mac 'n cheese. Yummy. If there's one dish I absolutely love, it's a cheesey macaroni dish.
When my meal came, it looked off. The "cheese" part of the mac 'n cheese looked a lot like slightly orange milk. I dug my fork in and took a bite, and, sure enough, it didn't just look like slightly orange milk, but it tasted like it too. I picked up one of the chicken tenders and it was lukewarm and limp, rather than hot and crispy. No way was I going to eat the meal or pay for it, so I called the server over and told her I'd need a different meal.
Yep, my new order, fish 'n chips, arrived and it was fine. Not what I wanted, but an okay substitute. I asked the server how anyone could call what had been brought to me either "4 cheese" or "mac 'n cheese," and she cheerfully asked if my fish 'n chips were okay. Got the feeling the other topic was now off-limits, so I let it go.
It was nice for the server to respond to my request for a different meal with such positivity, but I'm still hungry for some 4-cheese mac 'n cheese. Guess I'll make my own.
When my meal came, it looked off. The "cheese" part of the mac 'n cheese looked a lot like slightly orange milk. I dug my fork in and took a bite, and, sure enough, it didn't just look like slightly orange milk, but it tasted like it too. I picked up one of the chicken tenders and it was lukewarm and limp, rather than hot and crispy. No way was I going to eat the meal or pay for it, so I called the server over and told her I'd need a different meal.
Yep, my new order, fish 'n chips, arrived and it was fine. Not what I wanted, but an okay substitute. I asked the server how anyone could call what had been brought to me either "4 cheese" or "mac 'n cheese," and she cheerfully asked if my fish 'n chips were okay. Got the feeling the other topic was now off-limits, so I let it go.
It was nice for the server to respond to my request for a different meal with such positivity, but I'm still hungry for some 4-cheese mac 'n cheese. Guess I'll make my own.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
There but for the Grace of God Goeth I
Arians said,"I think anyone who touches a woman or child, in my opinion, needs to go to jail for a long time." I agree IF the person is charged with criminal actions, brought to trial, and found guilty by a jury trial of his/her peers.
I do not condone violence, but I have been out of control on occasion during my lifetime. I’m going to guess that most people have had at least one episode wherein s/he lost his/her cool and did something stupid, like throwing a punch at a peer or spanking a child too harshly. We’re human, and we sometimes react without thinking through the consequences of our actions. Sometimes, we cannot take back what we’ve done because we go too far in the heat of the moment, but more often than not, we can apologize and strive to be better in control if there ever is a next time.
The courts are capable of handling the assessment of guilt, as well as assigning punishment, for the times when things go too far. Slapping someone across the face is very different from punching someone in the face; the difference is in the moderation of the motive that results in the slap or the punch. Same with spanking with the hand and using a leather belt: one is meant to get the child’s attention and change the behavior, while the other is often meant to harshly punish a child. I probably would not object to a spanking that involved a couple of swats to the butt, but I would become violently against the use of a belt as I grew up in a house where the belt was used liberally.
But what we all have in common in this democracy is the presumption of innocence until proven guilty. If we follow the guidelines of the media, however, we are guilty, guilty, guilty on one person’s say-so, and the punishment is meted out before any trial takes place. Since when has the Commissioner of Football taken precedence over a court of law? Someone tells him something, maybe shows him some film evidence – and he decides to terminate an employee’s contract? Even if that’s the ultimate outcome, should there not be a fair process to arrive at that termination? We accept the word of one in some instances to determine guilt even though most juries have at least six and more often twelve of our peers to determine guilt and innocence.
Again, I do not condone violence, and the filmed evidence of a football player knocking his girlfriend out in an elevator seems pretty clear-cut, BUT we are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Perhaps the courts would terminate an employment contract if that were an option, but there are laws for meting out punishment. Sometimes, people are given a “one strike” break and serve probation and community service in the event of a single incident. Repeat offenders are treated more harshly and should be, which could lead to the termination of an employee’s contract. In professional sports, however, it’s one and done.
I just think that professional sports put the cart before the horse in recent weeks and needs to stand back, think through the entire cause/effect sequence, and be really sure about what is fair and just before determining guilt and assessing punishment, especially when that punishment does not just terminate today’s employment, but makes the player a pariah for whatever rest of his/her career was left.
I do not condone violence, but I have been out of control on occasion during my lifetime. I’m going to guess that most people have had at least one episode wherein s/he lost his/her cool and did something stupid, like throwing a punch at a peer or spanking a child too harshly. We’re human, and we sometimes react without thinking through the consequences of our actions. Sometimes, we cannot take back what we’ve done because we go too far in the heat of the moment, but more often than not, we can apologize and strive to be better in control if there ever is a next time.
The courts are capable of handling the assessment of guilt, as well as assigning punishment, for the times when things go too far. Slapping someone across the face is very different from punching someone in the face; the difference is in the moderation of the motive that results in the slap or the punch. Same with spanking with the hand and using a leather belt: one is meant to get the child’s attention and change the behavior, while the other is often meant to harshly punish a child. I probably would not object to a spanking that involved a couple of swats to the butt, but I would become violently against the use of a belt as I grew up in a house where the belt was used liberally.
But what we all have in common in this democracy is the presumption of innocence until proven guilty. If we follow the guidelines of the media, however, we are guilty, guilty, guilty on one person’s say-so, and the punishment is meted out before any trial takes place. Since when has the Commissioner of Football taken precedence over a court of law? Someone tells him something, maybe shows him some film evidence – and he decides to terminate an employee’s contract? Even if that’s the ultimate outcome, should there not be a fair process to arrive at that termination? We accept the word of one in some instances to determine guilt even though most juries have at least six and more often twelve of our peers to determine guilt and innocence.
Again, I do not condone violence, and the filmed evidence of a football player knocking his girlfriend out in an elevator seems pretty clear-cut, BUT we are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Perhaps the courts would terminate an employment contract if that were an option, but there are laws for meting out punishment. Sometimes, people are given a “one strike” break and serve probation and community service in the event of a single incident. Repeat offenders are treated more harshly and should be, which could lead to the termination of an employee’s contract. In professional sports, however, it’s one and done.
I just think that professional sports put the cart before the horse in recent weeks and needs to stand back, think through the entire cause/effect sequence, and be really sure about what is fair and just before determining guilt and assessing punishment, especially when that punishment does not just terminate today’s employment, but makes the player a pariah for whatever rest of his/her career was left.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
A True Story
A week ago, I was in Palm Springs airport preparing to leave on my vacation. I breezed through the security check with “preferred” status and was on my way to the boarding gate for my flight when the sun hit on something in the landscaping alongside the sidewalk. Curious, I walked over and picked up the object that had caught the sun’s rays and saw that it was a memory card. I put it into my purse and didn’t give it another thought until I arrived in Canada and was looking for something in my purse.
I told my son/daughter-in-law the story of finding this memory card at the airport and asked if they could open it to see what was on it. They put the card into my son’s computer and dozens of family photos emerged. With all the pictures on the card, they were able to determine an address, but they also discovered the name of a woman on an award for service to an organization, after which a Google search led them to a city/state to go with the address. I was amazed at how easy it was to “find” the owner of the card, but the story does not end here.
Son looked up possible phone numbers for the name he discovered and decided to make phone calls to track her down, verify it was her card, and then return it to her. He made a couple of calls, left messages, and then we waited. Sure enough, Charlotte called and was delighted to learn that I had found her memory card; however, the story that goes with it is amazing. She was visiting Florida and either lost her camera or it was stolen from her. She’s never been in California, so she had no idea how the memory card ended up in the landscaping at Palm Springs Airport. She was delighted that we had the card and would return it to her because the photos on the card were special to her.
My son told Charlotte that he saw the photo of her award and recognition for service to an organization that helps people with liver disease, which my son has had for the past 20 years. After a conversation between them, Charlotte told my son that she would keep an ear open for any break-throughs in his type of liver disease, which is auto-immune chronic hepatitis.
When I left Canada this past weekend, the envelope containing the memory card went into the mail. I continue to marvel that I found the card and that my son and daughter-in-law were able to find the owner. That she had never been in California and had the camera taken from her in Florida astounded me. And, finally, what are the chances that she was recognized for her service to an organization that works with liver patients?
All in all, one of those weird, but true "6 degrees of separation" stories.
I told my son/daughter-in-law the story of finding this memory card at the airport and asked if they could open it to see what was on it. They put the card into my son’s computer and dozens of family photos emerged. With all the pictures on the card, they were able to determine an address, but they also discovered the name of a woman on an award for service to an organization, after which a Google search led them to a city/state to go with the address. I was amazed at how easy it was to “find” the owner of the card, but the story does not end here.
Son looked up possible phone numbers for the name he discovered and decided to make phone calls to track her down, verify it was her card, and then return it to her. He made a couple of calls, left messages, and then we waited. Sure enough, Charlotte called and was delighted to learn that I had found her memory card; however, the story that goes with it is amazing. She was visiting Florida and either lost her camera or it was stolen from her. She’s never been in California, so she had no idea how the memory card ended up in the landscaping at Palm Springs Airport. She was delighted that we had the card and would return it to her because the photos on the card were special to her.
My son told Charlotte that he saw the photo of her award and recognition for service to an organization that helps people with liver disease, which my son has had for the past 20 years. After a conversation between them, Charlotte told my son that she would keep an ear open for any break-throughs in his type of liver disease, which is auto-immune chronic hepatitis.
When I left Canada this past weekend, the envelope containing the memory card went into the mail. I continue to marvel that I found the card and that my son and daughter-in-law were able to find the owner. That she had never been in California and had the camera taken from her in Florida astounded me. And, finally, what are the chances that she was recognized for her service to an organization that works with liver patients?
All in all, one of those weird, but true "6 degrees of separation" stories.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Gentle Soul
Does "gentle soul" describe a very large man who steals from a merchant and then becomes physically assertive when the merchant confronts him with the theft?
Does "peaceful protest" describe unruly mobs of thugs and vandals who tear apart the business district of their hometown while allegedly seeking "justice" for the death of one of their members?
Does anyone really want "justice" based on evidence and facts, or do the non-white people of Ferguson want vengeance for what they perceive is a racially motivated hate crime?
Do all the non-black residents of Ferguson believe the officer involved shooting was justified?
Do all the non-white residents of Ferguson believe the officer involved shooting was unprovoked and a criminal act?
If I listen to the TV commentary, I hear polarization on the part of the residents of Ferguson that is sold by the commentators as truth. Seldom have I heard a commentator say let's not rush to judgment; let's wait and see what the facts are before we come to a conclusion. Instead, there is a constant clambor for being the first on-air with the latest street gossip, and the more polarizing the commentary, the better the station's ratings. And it's always all about ratings.
News requires the test of time, especially because we all tend to react emotionally at first, and seem to calm down and see events more rationally with the passing of time. In this day of the focus on the needs and wants of I, we no longer seem willing to take the time to allow a process to occur that clarifies and provides perspective. My mother's favorite saying was that we can't put an old head onto young shoulders; wisdom comes with age and living through life's experiences--the good, the bad, and the ugly.
The hot-headed youth have to take to the streets in violent protests that show who's in charge and who's going to tell the world the way things are going to be. It's challenging to tell the youth to slow down, calm down, sit down and think before you do something you'll later regret. And, truthfully, sometimes the senior citizens want to take too much time to think about situations and events that could benefit from moving a bit more quickly to resolution. Somewhere in between there is rational thinking, wisdom, and the truth, and once we have that, we can also have justice.
Does "peaceful protest" describe unruly mobs of thugs and vandals who tear apart the business district of their hometown while allegedly seeking "justice" for the death of one of their members?
Does anyone really want "justice" based on evidence and facts, or do the non-white people of Ferguson want vengeance for what they perceive is a racially motivated hate crime?
Do all the non-black residents of Ferguson believe the officer involved shooting was justified?
Do all the non-white residents of Ferguson believe the officer involved shooting was unprovoked and a criminal act?
If I listen to the TV commentary, I hear polarization on the part of the residents of Ferguson that is sold by the commentators as truth. Seldom have I heard a commentator say let's not rush to judgment; let's wait and see what the facts are before we come to a conclusion. Instead, there is a constant clambor for being the first on-air with the latest street gossip, and the more polarizing the commentary, the better the station's ratings. And it's always all about ratings.
News requires the test of time, especially because we all tend to react emotionally at first, and seem to calm down and see events more rationally with the passing of time. In this day of the focus on the needs and wants of I, we no longer seem willing to take the time to allow a process to occur that clarifies and provides perspective. My mother's favorite saying was that we can't put an old head onto young shoulders; wisdom comes with age and living through life's experiences--the good, the bad, and the ugly.
The hot-headed youth have to take to the streets in violent protests that show who's in charge and who's going to tell the world the way things are going to be. It's challenging to tell the youth to slow down, calm down, sit down and think before you do something you'll later regret. And, truthfully, sometimes the senior citizens want to take too much time to think about situations and events that could benefit from moving a bit more quickly to resolution. Somewhere in between there is rational thinking, wisdom, and the truth, and once we have that, we can also have justice.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Sewers Suck
My water bills have been hovering in the mid-$30 range this year ($33.27; $39.37; $33.05; $20.61 $30.98; and $50.22), which is pretty much where they’ve been since I moved into the house in 2000. Yesterday, however, I opened the envelope to find a bill totaling $145.40. As the shock began to set in, I read the details and found that for this billing period, I’ve used excessive Tier 2 and Tier 3 services, which I have no idea what that means in water consumption. I also have a new charge, the sewer service, which is $35.00. Then there’s a $29.64 fee entitled “adjustments,” with no further explanation. The bottom line is that I’m paying $4.85 per day in water usage fees. Even on the days no one is in the house and no water is turned on.
I just returned from the water company where I received absolutely no satisfaction either for the total amount or for a better understanding of the “tier” system. I told her I know that’s water usage, but how much water usage isn’t specified. She told me if I use over my tier 1, the next tier is tier 2 – and you get the idea of her very patient, calm and quiet recitation of the tier system. I told her again that I understand it’s water usage, but what does a “typical” single resident residence use? I do 2 washers of clothes each week; don’t use the dishwasher unless I have company; only shower on alternate days due to a skin condition, and then the shower is maybe a total of 10 minutes if I have to also shampoo my hair. I removed all of my lawn and replaced plants with desert friendly landscaping – and I can’t think of what else to do to be compliant with all the water usage regulations we are all laboring under.
She assured me I must have a leak but, lucky me, I had the plumber here this morning and there is no evidence of a leak inside or out. She suggested that maybe the plumber missed a leak, but I told her that any leak that could result in $150 water bill for one month would be pretty hard to miss!
I requested that someone come read the water meter, but they don’t actually read the meters in this day and age. There’s a chip and they just drive by and click your chip. Well, then, I suggested that someone come click my chip again as I doubt I could use this much water unless I just opened a bathtub faucet and let it run for a while (like a week). She is going to put in the request for that chip click service to be performed.
As to the $29.64 adjustment? Oh, that’s the sewer fee retroactive because I was linked to the sewer system June 4, so owe for that entire month of service because it was not included with that billing cycle.
Wow. I’m so not going to like this program.
I just returned from the water company where I received absolutely no satisfaction either for the total amount or for a better understanding of the “tier” system. I told her I know that’s water usage, but how much water usage isn’t specified. She told me if I use over my tier 1, the next tier is tier 2 – and you get the idea of her very patient, calm and quiet recitation of the tier system. I told her again that I understand it’s water usage, but what does a “typical” single resident residence use? I do 2 washers of clothes each week; don’t use the dishwasher unless I have company; only shower on alternate days due to a skin condition, and then the shower is maybe a total of 10 minutes if I have to also shampoo my hair. I removed all of my lawn and replaced plants with desert friendly landscaping – and I can’t think of what else to do to be compliant with all the water usage regulations we are all laboring under.
She assured me I must have a leak but, lucky me, I had the plumber here this morning and there is no evidence of a leak inside or out. She suggested that maybe the plumber missed a leak, but I told her that any leak that could result in $150 water bill for one month would be pretty hard to miss!
I requested that someone come read the water meter, but they don’t actually read the meters in this day and age. There’s a chip and they just drive by and click your chip. Well, then, I suggested that someone come click my chip again as I doubt I could use this much water unless I just opened a bathtub faucet and let it run for a while (like a week). She is going to put in the request for that chip click service to be performed.
As to the $29.64 adjustment? Oh, that’s the sewer fee retroactive because I was linked to the sewer system June 4, so owe for that entire month of service because it was not included with that billing cycle.
Wow. I’m so not going to like this program.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Psychic Sunday
Today I drove up the hill to visit with my movie buddy. She has a second home in Idyllwild, so when the temps soar here on the desert floor, I travel to the top of the mountain and enjoy sitting outside and chatting, and then dining at Oma’s. After our lunch, we walked around the village, with its clusters of charming shops and never-ending parade of interesting people to watch. Upstairs at the Fort, we saw a sign that announced a psychic was doing readings and I decided what the heck. My movie buddy, who is a staunch Catholic, would have nothing to do with it, but I paid my money and took my seat to wait my turn.
The psychic told me that she saw planning, guessing that I am a person who makes plans and then sees them through. Uh, maybe, I guess, as I spent 35 years of my adulthood as a teacher, as well as over an hour on the phone recently to plan my flights to Canada, so I’ll give her that one. Then she told me that I have a son who is delighted that I am going to be with him soon. Yep, that was the trip planning. Then she told me that I have a daughter – and a grandson – which I cannot deny. She also told me she could clearly see me riding a train, looking out the window and enjoying myself. That I don’t know about because I have no plans to be on a train, but have talked about taking the train ride across Canada when I come into the $10 grand it costs!
Finally, she told me I’ve been alone for a very long time, but that’s going to change. There is a “G” name coming into my life, either Gene or George, and we are going to become fast friends and, perhaps, even more intimately connected. She said his wife recently passed away and he’s deeply grieving her passing, but when he and I meet, it will be instant camaraderie. He’ll be walking his small dog when we meet, and I will be delighted with his million-dollar smile, and it will be on.
Her final words to me were that when I meet “G” and see his smile, I’ll remember my visit to the psychic one sunny Sunday afternoon.
The psychic told me that she saw planning, guessing that I am a person who makes plans and then sees them through. Uh, maybe, I guess, as I spent 35 years of my adulthood as a teacher, as well as over an hour on the phone recently to plan my flights to Canada, so I’ll give her that one. Then she told me that I have a son who is delighted that I am going to be with him soon. Yep, that was the trip planning. Then she told me that I have a daughter – and a grandson – which I cannot deny. She also told me she could clearly see me riding a train, looking out the window and enjoying myself. That I don’t know about because I have no plans to be on a train, but have talked about taking the train ride across Canada when I come into the $10 grand it costs!
Finally, she told me I’ve been alone for a very long time, but that’s going to change. There is a “G” name coming into my life, either Gene or George, and we are going to become fast friends and, perhaps, even more intimately connected. She said his wife recently passed away and he’s deeply grieving her passing, but when he and I meet, it will be instant camaraderie. He’ll be walking his small dog when we meet, and I will be delighted with his million-dollar smile, and it will be on.
Her final words to me were that when I meet “G” and see his smile, I’ll remember my visit to the psychic one sunny Sunday afternoon.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Three Strikes Weren’t Enough
There is a lace patterned shawl I want to make and I have the yarn for it, as well as the desire to spend the time to do the job well. Yesterday, I grabbed my crochet hook, the yarn, and the pattern, and set off on this new journey. I carefully followed the directions, reading it, then rereading it as I began the crochet. I had the bright crafts light on, was wearing my reading glasses, and felt confident that this was going to be a pleasurable experience that ends with a beautiful finished shawl.
After ripping it out a total of five times, I decided that I was done with this project. I know what the pattern says to do – and I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m doing – but it did not turn out correctly five times in a row. Usually, it only takes three strikes to strike out, but I gave it to five before saying that’s it. All done.
After ripping it out a total of five times, I decided that I was done with this project. I know what the pattern says to do – and I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m doing – but it did not turn out correctly five times in a row. Usually, it only takes three strikes to strike out, but I gave it to five before saying that’s it. All done.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
And So It Goes
Movie day found us popcorned up and anxious for And So It Goes to start. A little humor, Diane Keaton and Michael Douglas starring, and what it could it possibly be except entertaining.
I am known for walking out of movies, but when I leaned over to my movie buddy and asked if she wanted to leave, I was suprised when she agreed! Diane Keaton was awful, coming across as petulant rather than comedic. She was her old Annie Hall character brought into a comedy, hats and all, but she's no longer young enough to be cute, perky, and watchable as she poses and postures her way through a role. Michael Douglas was pretending to be Jack Nicholas, the classic pairing with Diane Keaton in this kind of movie, but believe me when I say that Jack Nicholas does it better.
We both enjoyed Get On Up more than ASIG, and agreed that the music was outstanding and the lead actor portraying James Brown should receive an award for his acting. We also agreed that the use of present day/past years' flashbacks were handled clumsily. Whoever wrote the script (I remember seeing "brother" names in the opening credit) had the right idea of using the past/present juxtaposition, but anyone who did not have at least a working knowledge of James Brown's life and career would be lost with the cut-ins and cut-outs, which is distracting to the storyline and the flow of the movie.
Next on our list is The 100 Foot Journey, which we are both anxious to see and hope that it's at least as good as the previews.
I am known for walking out of movies, but when I leaned over to my movie buddy and asked if she wanted to leave, I was suprised when she agreed! Diane Keaton was awful, coming across as petulant rather than comedic. She was her old Annie Hall character brought into a comedy, hats and all, but she's no longer young enough to be cute, perky, and watchable as she poses and postures her way through a role. Michael Douglas was pretending to be Jack Nicholas, the classic pairing with Diane Keaton in this kind of movie, but believe me when I say that Jack Nicholas does it better.
We both enjoyed Get On Up more than ASIG, and agreed that the music was outstanding and the lead actor portraying James Brown should receive an award for his acting. We also agreed that the use of present day/past years' flashbacks were handled clumsily. Whoever wrote the script (I remember seeing "brother" names in the opening credit) had the right idea of using the past/present juxtaposition, but anyone who did not have at least a working knowledge of James Brown's life and career would be lost with the cut-ins and cut-outs, which is distracting to the storyline and the flow of the movie.
Next on our list is The 100 Foot Journey, which we are both anxious to see and hope that it's at least as good as the previews.
BPPV*
Vertigo is not fun. The old expression “my head is spinning” may indicate excitement about something unexpected, but, in my case, it simply means vertigo, a whirling and swirling motion accompanied by a “darkness” that can last several seconds or much longer. It’s somewhat terrifying when it happens, especially when one is in the stroke decades and anything that seems like an impending stroke can cause panic. I’ve been handling it for about the past 6 months, not driving more than necessary because I didn’t feel safe to be behind the wheel.
Today was doctor at the ear institute day. I listed my symptoms, she did some quick checking, and I was rotating on a table, going in and out of vertigo at her command. End result is BPPV; translation is calcium carbonate crystals in the inner ear that move out of place and into a swirled canal where they cause vertigo. By doing some weird movements and keeping my head completely still, the crystals settled down and the diagnosis was confirmed.
Treatment was 10 minutes of movement and the installation of a neck brace. My goal is to keep my head “neutral” for the next week, no looking down at my feet or throwing my head back for a shampoo, no quick movements to either the left or the right. By next week, the crystals should have implanted themselves back where they belong and my symptoms should be gone. I must keep the neck brace on even when I sleep, and I’m supposed to sleep sitting up as best I can.
We’ll see if it works!
*Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo
Today was doctor at the ear institute day. I listed my symptoms, she did some quick checking, and I was rotating on a table, going in and out of vertigo at her command. End result is BPPV; translation is calcium carbonate crystals in the inner ear that move out of place and into a swirled canal where they cause vertigo. By doing some weird movements and keeping my head completely still, the crystals settled down and the diagnosis was confirmed.
Treatment was 10 minutes of movement and the installation of a neck brace. My goal is to keep my head “neutral” for the next week, no looking down at my feet or throwing my head back for a shampoo, no quick movements to either the left or the right. By next week, the crystals should have implanted themselves back where they belong and my symptoms should be gone. I must keep the neck brace on even when I sleep, and I’m supposed to sleep sitting up as best I can.
We’ll see if it works!
*Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Movie SnapShots
Chef is a nice story about a divorced man and his son. It could be clichéd, and it probably is, but this is a coming of age movie that I enjoyed watching.
The Fault in Our Stars is a nice story about a young couple, both of whom are facing cancer. It’s the Love Story retold for a new generation, but it’s sweet, predictable, and a good kleenex and popcorn movie.
Jersey Boys is the stage production on film, with added scenes to fill in the back story of Frankie Valli and his three friends who comprise The Four Seasons. I loved the stage production for the almost non-stop music held together with some back story; I loved the touring group, Under the Streetlamp, for the non-stop music that didn’t pretend to be anything more than a quartet doing Four Seasons hits; and I enjoyed the movie for filling in the back story and making the production into a complete whole. Of course, if you don’t like the music, the artists, or the story – you won’t appreciate any of the venues I’ve enjoyed!
Maleficent is magnificent! The bond between actors and animation is seamless and totally believable. The story is a good one told well. The rocks coming alive and morphing into giants has been done in about three other films recently, so that part was worth an out-loud giggle, but it was the only time during the film that I “broke character.” (I wonder if it's the same animated rock creatures loaned out to various studios who want to use them?) Angelina Jolie is unbelievably good in her role as Maleficent, and her little daughter, Vivienne, who has a bit part, is the spitting image of her handsome father.
So far, it’s a good summer for movies, so dig into the change jar, grab a handful of play money, and pony up for a ticket and some fresh popcorn. What a nice way to spend a slow summer day.
The Fault in Our Stars is a nice story about a young couple, both of whom are facing cancer. It’s the Love Story retold for a new generation, but it’s sweet, predictable, and a good kleenex and popcorn movie.
Jersey Boys is the stage production on film, with added scenes to fill in the back story of Frankie Valli and his three friends who comprise The Four Seasons. I loved the stage production for the almost non-stop music held together with some back story; I loved the touring group, Under the Streetlamp, for the non-stop music that didn’t pretend to be anything more than a quartet doing Four Seasons hits; and I enjoyed the movie for filling in the back story and making the production into a complete whole. Of course, if you don’t like the music, the artists, or the story – you won’t appreciate any of the venues I’ve enjoyed!
Maleficent is magnificent! The bond between actors and animation is seamless and totally believable. The story is a good one told well. The rocks coming alive and morphing into giants has been done in about three other films recently, so that part was worth an out-loud giggle, but it was the only time during the film that I “broke character.” (I wonder if it's the same animated rock creatures loaned out to various studios who want to use them?) Angelina Jolie is unbelievably good in her role as Maleficent, and her little daughter, Vivienne, who has a bit part, is the spitting image of her handsome father.
So far, it’s a good summer for movies, so dig into the change jar, grab a handful of play money, and pony up for a ticket and some fresh popcorn. What a nice way to spend a slow summer day.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Life's Journey
Here’s where it is today, hiding inside a pensive mood that borders on depression. The seven stages of … life, updated from The Bard, who named them thus:
1. Infancy: In this stage he is a helpless baby and knows little.
2. Whining schoolboy: It is in that stage of life that he begins to go to school. He is unwilling to leave the protected environment of his home as he is still not confident enough to exercise his own discretion.
3. The lover: In this stage he is always maudlin, expressing his love in a fatuous manner. He makes himself ridiculous in trying to express his feelings.
4. The soldier: He is very easily aroused and is hot headed. He is always working towards making a reputation for himself, however short-lived it may be, even at the cost of foolish risks.
5. The justice: In this stage he thinks he has acquired wisdom through the many experiences he has had in life, and is likely to impart it. He has reached a stage where he has gained prosperity and social status. He becomes vain and begins to enjoy the finer things of life.
6. Old Age: He is a shell of his former self — both physically and mentally. He begins to become the butt of others' jokes. He loses his firmness and assertiveness, and shrinks in stature and personality.
7. Second childishness: Senility; dependence on others. (Thanks, Wikipedia)
I’m at the stage where I’ve done my childhood, been the schoolgirl, fancied myself a lover, became a soldier working in the marketplace to carve a name for myself, and had a few hands of being the wise, learned justice. I’ve oft quoted my mother’s wisdom that no one can put an old head onto young shoulders, capturing the spirit of it takes time to become wise. But I'd truly like to put this old head onto new shoulders and have a chance to live my life ... differently. I cannot say "better" or "worse," because different can mean an entire timeline of change, but I'd like to do some things differently, knowing what I know now, rather than living with what I didn't know then and continue to relive now. I’m floundering through stage 6, the “old age” stage that is reality no matter how often anyone thinks that 50 is the new 40 and 60 is the new 50. I’m looking at another zero birthday headed my way, the big 7-0, and that is “old” age regardless of what to the contrary anyone wants to believe.
It takes energy and perseverance to make it through the first 5 stages, to grow and flourish through youth into middle age, working one way or another to achieve both status and recognition. Some pathways are unfettered and form a positive memory as one retires and seeks to re-establish a sense of identity that is apart from what one once was, but no longer is. If I grant that I was the best teacher I knew how to be, I should be able to remember all the positive experiences, as well as people, but the ones who stick in the memory are events/incidences that I didn’t handle well and/or the students who caused major problems. If it were possible to go backward, to revisit a time and a place that could have been handled better, I’d use that button and ask for a redo with a different outcome. But we all have to live with what is, not with what we wanted life to be and either we failed life or life failed us. “Shoulda, woulda, coulda” is a good way to look at life, but it's a tagline that is always followed by “But didn’t.” Our legacy is pretty well set by the time we enter Age 6 and become a shell of our former selves, losing firmness and assertiveness, and shrinking in stature and personality. We can see it in the eyes of our social contacts, as they begin to glaze over as we recall and relive in our mind’s eye times, places, and people from what is now a long-ago past, but instantly in front of us again and again as we strain to change the outcome or merely glory in what’s past.
This is where I am today, my mind wandering through the times of my life, wishing I could go back and have a do-over, whether to change the outcome or improve the process of arriving at a desired outcome. I know I did the best I could, but sometimes one’s best truly is not good enough, or often enough, or on-point. Life becomes the time period between Thanksgiving and Christmas, when all of the children are on their extra-special good behavior to enhance the quality and quantity of gifts Santa will leave under the tree. It’s as if we don’t quite remember that we are the sum of all our months of behavior, not just the few weeks in which we want to make a good impression. Why can’t I, now that I am facing mortality, become the person I 100% want to be, rather than the person I’ve 100% become during the first five ages of my life? It’s depressing to read the obits and have to accept that the ages at death are not just where I am, but include far too many who didn’t have the opportunity to live as long as I have lived. I’m wanting a do-over, but sometimes, today is not the first day of the rest of anyone’s life, but the last day of life period.
There will come one day when it’s the last day, ready or not, and the only part of me that stays behind is a small fragment of the time spent with others who came into and then moved out of my life. My life picture will be thousands of these small fragments, each piece of which will somehow be made into a larger, complete portrait by the individual who holds the fragment. The only good news is that I'll again be that "mewling and puking infant" of old age, the second childhood during which others must provide the care to me that I no longer can provide for myself, and none of it will matter a whit to me.
1. Infancy: In this stage he is a helpless baby and knows little.
2. Whining schoolboy: It is in that stage of life that he begins to go to school. He is unwilling to leave the protected environment of his home as he is still not confident enough to exercise his own discretion.
3. The lover: In this stage he is always maudlin, expressing his love in a fatuous manner. He makes himself ridiculous in trying to express his feelings.
4. The soldier: He is very easily aroused and is hot headed. He is always working towards making a reputation for himself, however short-lived it may be, even at the cost of foolish risks.
5. The justice: In this stage he thinks he has acquired wisdom through the many experiences he has had in life, and is likely to impart it. He has reached a stage where he has gained prosperity and social status. He becomes vain and begins to enjoy the finer things of life.
6. Old Age: He is a shell of his former self — both physically and mentally. He begins to become the butt of others' jokes. He loses his firmness and assertiveness, and shrinks in stature and personality.
7. Second childishness: Senility; dependence on others. (Thanks, Wikipedia)
I’m at the stage where I’ve done my childhood, been the schoolgirl, fancied myself a lover, became a soldier working in the marketplace to carve a name for myself, and had a few hands of being the wise, learned justice. I’ve oft quoted my mother’s wisdom that no one can put an old head onto young shoulders, capturing the spirit of it takes time to become wise. But I'd truly like to put this old head onto new shoulders and have a chance to live my life ... differently. I cannot say "better" or "worse," because different can mean an entire timeline of change, but I'd like to do some things differently, knowing what I know now, rather than living with what I didn't know then and continue to relive now. I’m floundering through stage 6, the “old age” stage that is reality no matter how often anyone thinks that 50 is the new 40 and 60 is the new 50. I’m looking at another zero birthday headed my way, the big 7-0, and that is “old” age regardless of what to the contrary anyone wants to believe.
It takes energy and perseverance to make it through the first 5 stages, to grow and flourish through youth into middle age, working one way or another to achieve both status and recognition. Some pathways are unfettered and form a positive memory as one retires and seeks to re-establish a sense of identity that is apart from what one once was, but no longer is. If I grant that I was the best teacher I knew how to be, I should be able to remember all the positive experiences, as well as people, but the ones who stick in the memory are events/incidences that I didn’t handle well and/or the students who caused major problems. If it were possible to go backward, to revisit a time and a place that could have been handled better, I’d use that button and ask for a redo with a different outcome. But we all have to live with what is, not with what we wanted life to be and either we failed life or life failed us. “Shoulda, woulda, coulda” is a good way to look at life, but it's a tagline that is always followed by “But didn’t.” Our legacy is pretty well set by the time we enter Age 6 and become a shell of our former selves, losing firmness and assertiveness, and shrinking in stature and personality. We can see it in the eyes of our social contacts, as they begin to glaze over as we recall and relive in our mind’s eye times, places, and people from what is now a long-ago past, but instantly in front of us again and again as we strain to change the outcome or merely glory in what’s past.
This is where I am today, my mind wandering through the times of my life, wishing I could go back and have a do-over, whether to change the outcome or improve the process of arriving at a desired outcome. I know I did the best I could, but sometimes one’s best truly is not good enough, or often enough, or on-point. Life becomes the time period between Thanksgiving and Christmas, when all of the children are on their extra-special good behavior to enhance the quality and quantity of gifts Santa will leave under the tree. It’s as if we don’t quite remember that we are the sum of all our months of behavior, not just the few weeks in which we want to make a good impression. Why can’t I, now that I am facing mortality, become the person I 100% want to be, rather than the person I’ve 100% become during the first five ages of my life? It’s depressing to read the obits and have to accept that the ages at death are not just where I am, but include far too many who didn’t have the opportunity to live as long as I have lived. I’m wanting a do-over, but sometimes, today is not the first day of the rest of anyone’s life, but the last day of life period.
There will come one day when it’s the last day, ready or not, and the only part of me that stays behind is a small fragment of the time spent with others who came into and then moved out of my life. My life picture will be thousands of these small fragments, each piece of which will somehow be made into a larger, complete portrait by the individual who holds the fragment. The only good news is that I'll again be that "mewling and puking infant" of old age, the second childhood during which others must provide the care to me that I no longer can provide for myself, and none of it will matter a whit to me.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
News Flash
According to a local news reader, “Classes are canceled today at the University of California in Santa Barbara for the victims of the mass murders.” Not to put too fine a point to the message, but classes are canceled for all the rest of the UCSB students because “the victims of the mass murders” are no longer alive whether classes are canceled or not.
Say what you mean and mean what you say.
Say what you mean and mean what you say.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
A Tangled Web of Storytelling
My movie buddy and I went to the new Spiderman movie as we both enjoy an action flick, as well as the first Spiderman movie with Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone in the starring roles. At the midway point of this newest release, however, we were ready to bow out gracefully as the movie became a tangled web of 6 separate stories that would literally stop, then begin another plotline, creating mini-episodes rather than a cohesive plot. The movie slams its way to an ending that serves the purpose only of leaving room for another sequel by introducing yet another character that Spiderman has to handle.
The first plot focuses on Spiderman’s relationship with Gwen Stacy, played by Emma Stone. They get more serious and seem to be moving toward a real relationship when shazaam! Another story takes off in a different direction, this time focused on Peter Parker’s father’s role in genetic engineering of spiders and hidden venom that could save the life of Harry Osborne, played by Dane DeHaan, who is dying of the same disease that takes his father’s life in the beginning of the plot line. Then there’s the move by the board of OsCorp to take control of the company away from Harry. Zap! Onto a fourth plot line, this time featuring Max Dillon (played by Jamie Foxx), who morphs into Electro and throws electrical charges at people and places, shutting down New York’s power grid, but that’s okay because that storyline would have us believe that Gwen Stacy, Peter’s girlfriend, knows how to restart the entire power grid of New York City! The next plot begins with yet another Spiderman nemesis coming after Peter Parker, but I cannot tell you which one of the villains this is until I see the next Spiderman movie installment.
The last storyline is the deepening love between Peter and Gwen, but SPOILER ALERT Gwen dies and I did not see that coming, especially not based on the movie subplot about their relationship, which led me and my buddy to believe that they would be together, forever, rama rama ding dong!
No, I did not like this movie primarily because whoever was in charge of editing it did a poor job of deciding what to include and what to delete. I almost felt as if I had picked up six different comic issues of the Spiderman series and had to read them all at the same time and make sense of all of them at the same time. I go to movies to be entertained, not irritated!
The first plot focuses on Spiderman’s relationship with Gwen Stacy, played by Emma Stone. They get more serious and seem to be moving toward a real relationship when shazaam! Another story takes off in a different direction, this time focused on Peter Parker’s father’s role in genetic engineering of spiders and hidden venom that could save the life of Harry Osborne, played by Dane DeHaan, who is dying of the same disease that takes his father’s life in the beginning of the plot line. Then there’s the move by the board of OsCorp to take control of the company away from Harry. Zap! Onto a fourth plot line, this time featuring Max Dillon (played by Jamie Foxx), who morphs into Electro and throws electrical charges at people and places, shutting down New York’s power grid, but that’s okay because that storyline would have us believe that Gwen Stacy, Peter’s girlfriend, knows how to restart the entire power grid of New York City! The next plot begins with yet another Spiderman nemesis coming after Peter Parker, but I cannot tell you which one of the villains this is until I see the next Spiderman movie installment.
The last storyline is the deepening love between Peter and Gwen, but SPOILER ALERT Gwen dies and I did not see that coming, especially not based on the movie subplot about their relationship, which led me and my buddy to believe that they would be together, forever, rama rama ding dong!
No, I did not like this movie primarily because whoever was in charge of editing it did a poor job of deciding what to include and what to delete. I almost felt as if I had picked up six different comic issues of the Spiderman series and had to read them all at the same time and make sense of all of them at the same time. I go to movies to be entertained, not irritated!
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Soundbite of History
It is a large book of non-fiction, 480 pages including the 13 pages of sources used, hardly a tome most people would characterize as a page-turner, but it is. Bill Bryson, who is one of America’s finest modern writers, takes a look at One Summer (the title of the book), the summer of 1927, and presents a confluence of people, places, and events that forever changed America, and, by extension, the rest of the world. There are people’s names that will ring a bell in the reader’s memory, such as Babe Ruth, Charles Lindbergh, and Al Capone, and other important people whose names are not so well-known, such as Charles Francis Jenkins, Robert G. Elliott, and Willis Blakely.
Charles Lindbergh did more to advance aviation in 1927 than any other pilot, and, yes, there were other pilots, as well as regularly-scheduled flights between major cities in Europe. I had always pictured the Wright brothers initial flight as a “one of,” but was surprised to know that Europe was well ahead of the United States in the development of aviation. Lindbergh’s contribution stemmed from crossing the Atlantic Ocean, thus validating inter-continental flight development. His relentless publicity tour of the United States following his memorable flight across the Atlantic forever linked Lindbergh’s name to the development of aviation, but what he primarily accomplished was publicizing aviation, not creating it.
Also during the summer of 1927, the name of Alfred Ponzi, perhaps only known for what became a Ponzi scheme, made his name forever synonymous with generating huge amounts of money on the backs of hapless investors who lost everything they put into Ponzi’s investment schemes. The motion picture industry thrived with the advent of talking films, wherein the soundtrack was invented that would allow characters to talk and actions to have appropriate noises. Alvin “Shipwreck” Kelly climbed a flagpole on top of a building and spent 49 days sitting there. Mount Rushmore began to take shape, but its sculptor, Gutzon Borglum, did not live to see it completed. Most interestingly to me, this is also the summer when four financiers met in secret to formulate financial plans that led directly to the stockmarket crash and the Great Depression of 1929.
Bryson’s work is a study in American history and should be required reading for every student in the United States school system, whether at the high school level or under-graduate degree programs at community colleges, as well as universities. The narration is easy to read while also being content rich. The strands of the story, from May through September 1927, are woven carefully to form a cohesive over-view of what it was like both in America and the world during this time, and forms the significance of people, places and events in a way that brings the story alive. The twelve pages of bibliography, in a very small typeface, as well as the end notes, also prove to any student that there are sources available to tell any story – if the writer cares enough about the subject matter to research it.
Charles Lindbergh did more to advance aviation in 1927 than any other pilot, and, yes, there were other pilots, as well as regularly-scheduled flights between major cities in Europe. I had always pictured the Wright brothers initial flight as a “one of,” but was surprised to know that Europe was well ahead of the United States in the development of aviation. Lindbergh’s contribution stemmed from crossing the Atlantic Ocean, thus validating inter-continental flight development. His relentless publicity tour of the United States following his memorable flight across the Atlantic forever linked Lindbergh’s name to the development of aviation, but what he primarily accomplished was publicizing aviation, not creating it.
Also during the summer of 1927, the name of Alfred Ponzi, perhaps only known for what became a Ponzi scheme, made his name forever synonymous with generating huge amounts of money on the backs of hapless investors who lost everything they put into Ponzi’s investment schemes. The motion picture industry thrived with the advent of talking films, wherein the soundtrack was invented that would allow characters to talk and actions to have appropriate noises. Alvin “Shipwreck” Kelly climbed a flagpole on top of a building and spent 49 days sitting there. Mount Rushmore began to take shape, but its sculptor, Gutzon Borglum, did not live to see it completed. Most interestingly to me, this is also the summer when four financiers met in secret to formulate financial plans that led directly to the stockmarket crash and the Great Depression of 1929.
Bryson’s work is a study in American history and should be required reading for every student in the United States school system, whether at the high school level or under-graduate degree programs at community colleges, as well as universities. The narration is easy to read while also being content rich. The strands of the story, from May through September 1927, are woven carefully to form a cohesive over-view of what it was like both in America and the world during this time, and forms the significance of people, places and events in a way that brings the story alive. The twelve pages of bibliography, in a very small typeface, as well as the end notes, also prove to any student that there are sources available to tell any story – if the writer cares enough about the subject matter to research it.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Reciprocal Information System
When I was much younger, I was told (and believed) that cheaters never prosper, that cheaters are always caught in the act, and that the disgrace is life-changing. That was then; this is now. Cheating is rampant, its own reciprocal information system, especially with the inclusion of electronic devices in the classroom. The only person who is hurt by cheating these days is the ethical student who refuses to cheat.
It’s quite easy to cheat because the schools have made it easy to cheat:
• At the university level, there are “clickers” for students to check-in for attendance purposes. One person can activate several clickers and no one is the wiser; thus, even students who are not in attendance are in the official records as present. This practice only stops by having specific in-class assignments that are based on attendance and not available as make-up work with just enough points to affect an end-grade. Those who are signed in but don’t take the quiz and/or participate in the activity can be assumed to be not present and dealt with during office hours.
• Students are encouraged to have tablets and/or cell phone access to websites that the instructor uses so the student can be in the moment with the classroom instruction. That same access, however, is also available during exams, which makes it much easier to score higher grades without studying. Thus, the students who are taking the quizzes photograph them with their cell phones and send the quizzes out to all their friends who have a later section—either that same day or a semester later—of the same class. A professor should be smart enough to see both attendance and points trending higher toward the end of the day – but few of them care enough to make it more difficult for students to endgame the system by having multiple versions of the quiz or activity.
• Textbooks are readily available on line, which is a cost-saving advantage for today’s students; however, the textbooks come with the test bank, so students can pass any class simply by using the test bank to take tests. Far too many professors rely on the same materials class after class/semester after semester. Thus, students with limited English skills, students who regularly don’t attend class, and students who are woefully unprepared for college-level assignments pass college-level tests with college-level vocabulary and syntax that they probably cannot read and comprehend.
• Papers and projects from last semester’s class are reworked for this semester’s class when it’s taught by the same professor who gives the same assignment. It’s much easier to earn an A by rewriting someone else’s A paper than it is to start from scratch, especially if your English language skills are barely into the “low literate” level. Amazingly enough, this tact is free if you share the same background; i.e., Chinese students give other Chinese students whatever it takes to pass a class with an A grade.
Professors are proud of the achievements of the students – based on grades on the tests and papers – and seemingly don’t understand that a student may be cheating to earn the grade because it has become so easy to cheat. It’s much easier to justify cheating to earn high grades than it is to risk failing by not cheating, especially for international students with limited English language skills. The pressure to earn high grades is never-ending for international students whose culture values high achievement.
We assume that students will not cheat because they may be caught and punished, but that is simply naive. Not cheating when everyone else is cheating is simply a poor business decision.
It’s quite easy to cheat because the schools have made it easy to cheat:
• At the university level, there are “clickers” for students to check-in for attendance purposes. One person can activate several clickers and no one is the wiser; thus, even students who are not in attendance are in the official records as present. This practice only stops by having specific in-class assignments that are based on attendance and not available as make-up work with just enough points to affect an end-grade. Those who are signed in but don’t take the quiz and/or participate in the activity can be assumed to be not present and dealt with during office hours.
• Students are encouraged to have tablets and/or cell phone access to websites that the instructor uses so the student can be in the moment with the classroom instruction. That same access, however, is also available during exams, which makes it much easier to score higher grades without studying. Thus, the students who are taking the quizzes photograph them with their cell phones and send the quizzes out to all their friends who have a later section—either that same day or a semester later—of the same class. A professor should be smart enough to see both attendance and points trending higher toward the end of the day – but few of them care enough to make it more difficult for students to endgame the system by having multiple versions of the quiz or activity.
• Textbooks are readily available on line, which is a cost-saving advantage for today’s students; however, the textbooks come with the test bank, so students can pass any class simply by using the test bank to take tests. Far too many professors rely on the same materials class after class/semester after semester. Thus, students with limited English skills, students who regularly don’t attend class, and students who are woefully unprepared for college-level assignments pass college-level tests with college-level vocabulary and syntax that they probably cannot read and comprehend.
• Papers and projects from last semester’s class are reworked for this semester’s class when it’s taught by the same professor who gives the same assignment. It’s much easier to earn an A by rewriting someone else’s A paper than it is to start from scratch, especially if your English language skills are barely into the “low literate” level. Amazingly enough, this tact is free if you share the same background; i.e., Chinese students give other Chinese students whatever it takes to pass a class with an A grade.
Professors are proud of the achievements of the students – based on grades on the tests and papers – and seemingly don’t understand that a student may be cheating to earn the grade because it has become so easy to cheat. It’s much easier to justify cheating to earn high grades than it is to risk failing by not cheating, especially for international students with limited English language skills. The pressure to earn high grades is never-ending for international students whose culture values high achievement.
We assume that students will not cheat because they may be caught and punished, but that is simply naive. Not cheating when everyone else is cheating is simply a poor business decision.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
And then there's a deluge
I'm not sure what the controversy is with the recently-released film Noah, unless it's controversial that it's not all that great a film. It's a story loosely based on the Bible and it features big name actors, but other than that, it's about a grade C film. I actually laughed when "The Watchers" reared up out of the rock masses because we had just seen a coming attraction about Transformers, which is what the Watchers did from the rock masses: they transformed into creatures with faces, arms, legs, and torsos.
Anyone who attends a screening of this film while expecting it to be the Biblical story is going to be disappointed; anyone who attends a screening of this film and expects an action/adventure treatment is going to be disappointed; anyone who attends a screening of this film and expects an epic of Biblical proportions is going to be disappointed.
Anyone who attends a screening of this film while expecting it to be the Biblical story is going to be disappointed; anyone who attends a screening of this film and expects an action/adventure treatment is going to be disappointed; anyone who attends a screening of this film and expects an epic of Biblical proportions is going to be disappointed.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Usage Note
Four common usage errors are cropping up in what I read, perhaps because writers think the usage lends gravitas to their writing and allows them to feel that they are better writers than their skill level indicates.
The first is plethora; the dictionary says plethora is superabundance or excess. As a noun, it can be used with a "a ... of" phrase, as in a plethora of ideas about recycling.
The second is myriad; the dictionary says myriad is an adjective that indicates an indefinite number. Since myriad is an adjective, it is correct to say myriad butterflies filled the sky with beautiful colors, with myriad (an indefinite number) modifying butterflies, the noun. It would be incorrect to say a a myriad of butterflies, because myriad is a noun in that sentence construction, and myriad is an adjective that modifies a noun.
My pet peeve is the use of off of, such as take your jacket off of the kitchen table. We either take things off or we put things on, but we don't take things off of nor put them on of. Off is an adverb and has a long list of correct usage in a standard dictionary, but the dictionary specifically warns that ... particularly in written usage, off should not be followed by of or from. Of is a preposition and is often used in constructing prepositional phrases, such as "of the people, by the people, for the people."
And, finally, there is a word that takes the place of writing that someone is in "a state of anxiousness": anxiety. There is no need for the phrase when one word suffices.
What difference does usage make? It's the difference between being a good writer and just slapping some words/phrases onto a page and calling yourself a good writer.
The first is plethora; the dictionary says plethora is superabundance or excess. As a noun, it can be used with a "a ... of" phrase, as in a plethora of ideas about recycling.
The second is myriad; the dictionary says myriad is an adjective that indicates an indefinite number. Since myriad is an adjective, it is correct to say myriad butterflies filled the sky with beautiful colors, with myriad (an indefinite number) modifying butterflies, the noun. It would be incorrect to say a a myriad of butterflies, because myriad is a noun in that sentence construction, and myriad is an adjective that modifies a noun.
My pet peeve is the use of off of, such as take your jacket off of the kitchen table. We either take things off or we put things on, but we don't take things off of nor put them on of. Off is an adverb and has a long list of correct usage in a standard dictionary, but the dictionary specifically warns that ... particularly in written usage, off should not be followed by of or from. Of is a preposition and is often used in constructing prepositional phrases, such as "of the people, by the people, for the people."
And, finally, there is a word that takes the place of writing that someone is in "a state of anxiousness": anxiety. There is no need for the phrase when one word suffices.
What difference does usage make? It's the difference between being a good writer and just slapping some words/phrases onto a page and calling yourself a good writer.
Friday, March 14, 2014
Fender Bender
The small Mexican man who lives down the block drives a huge pick-up truck, behind which he has a very large metal mesh trailer that he uses in his landscaping business. To park his rig, he pulls up across the street, then backs the trailer/truck into his long driveway. In the process, he blocks the street in both directions and concentrates solely on getting through his driveway gates and all the way to the backside of his property.
He pays scant attention to the traffic on the street, perhaps because he believes that other drivers will see what he’s doing and allow him to pull forward, back up, pull forward again, and then back up again. And that’s a good assumption on his part, but faulty logic while operating a motor vehicle.
Y went to his volunteer job at the mini-mall down the street and was returning home when the gardener arrived at his house. Y saw that the rig was stopped in front of the man’s home, so Y continued up the street. Unfortunately, that was when the man decided to pull forward again, at an up-the-street angle, prior to resuming backing into his driveway. He hit Y’s car door and shoved Y’s car to the side of the road. Y called me, clearly upset, and I went to the scene.
Yes, Y had the right-of-way technically, but when there’s a potential traffic hazard blocking the road, each driver has to be aware and take defensive steps to stay safe. Y didn’t do that: he just swung his car a bit to the right and decided to go around the truck, unaware that the man would be pulling forward again as he straightened out his rig for backing. The small Mexican man pulled forward without checking the road conditions because he assumed that other drivers would stop and wait for him. He also admitted that he was using his mirrors to assist him in backing, not for checking the road he was blocking. Assuming anything is bad driving, but both drivers made assumptions about the other, which resulted in a collision.
Y’s car was slightly damaged, but it’ll have to be professionally fixed as it’s a gouge, not a dent that can be straightened. The small Mexican man’s big pick-up had no damage, which seems to be the way these things go. I played the role of referee and told each man he was incorrect in his assumption – and it’s both their faults, so move on. Y is going to take his car to a guy he knows up the hill for damage estimates and we’ll pay to have it fixed. Not the way we intended to spend an income tax refund, but there’s no use in spending any time at all in whose fault it was and who has to pay whom.
He pays scant attention to the traffic on the street, perhaps because he believes that other drivers will see what he’s doing and allow him to pull forward, back up, pull forward again, and then back up again. And that’s a good assumption on his part, but faulty logic while operating a motor vehicle.
Y went to his volunteer job at the mini-mall down the street and was returning home when the gardener arrived at his house. Y saw that the rig was stopped in front of the man’s home, so Y continued up the street. Unfortunately, that was when the man decided to pull forward again, at an up-the-street angle, prior to resuming backing into his driveway. He hit Y’s car door and shoved Y’s car to the side of the road. Y called me, clearly upset, and I went to the scene.
Yes, Y had the right-of-way technically, but when there’s a potential traffic hazard blocking the road, each driver has to be aware and take defensive steps to stay safe. Y didn’t do that: he just swung his car a bit to the right and decided to go around the truck, unaware that the man would be pulling forward again as he straightened out his rig for backing. The small Mexican man pulled forward without checking the road conditions because he assumed that other drivers would stop and wait for him. He also admitted that he was using his mirrors to assist him in backing, not for checking the road he was blocking. Assuming anything is bad driving, but both drivers made assumptions about the other, which resulted in a collision.
Y’s car was slightly damaged, but it’ll have to be professionally fixed as it’s a gouge, not a dent that can be straightened. The small Mexican man’s big pick-up had no damage, which seems to be the way these things go. I played the role of referee and told each man he was incorrect in his assumption – and it’s both their faults, so move on. Y is going to take his car to a guy he knows up the hill for damage estimates and we’ll pay to have it fixed. Not the way we intended to spend an income tax refund, but there’s no use in spending any time at all in whose fault it was and who has to pay whom.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Same Old/Same Old
As my movie buddy and I left the theater after viewing Son of God, the three ladies ahead of us were sharing their experience with the film. One of them was really disgusted by the fact that there was "nothing new" in the story! Movie Buddy and I guffawed, both leaping to the conclusion that yep, the story is 2000 years old and there's really nothing new in the telling or retelling of the plot: Jesus is born, he lives, he spends 40 days in the wilderness, he's crucificed, he arises on the third day.
My son, when I shared the story of the disappointed movie viewer with him, provided another perspective: the same film was part of a TV series that Mark Burnett and Roma Downey made about The Bible. It appears (I have no personal knowledge) that Burnett and Downey clipped out the relevant parts from The Bible mini-series and turned it into a feature-length film titled Son of God.
With that said, the "nothing new" comment makes a whole lot more sense than expecting a new twist on the same old/same old Jesus story!
My son, when I shared the story of the disappointed movie viewer with him, provided another perspective: the same film was part of a TV series that Mark Burnett and Roma Downey made about The Bible. It appears (I have no personal knowledge) that Burnett and Downey clipped out the relevant parts from The Bible mini-series and turned it into a feature-length film titled Son of God.
With that said, the "nothing new" comment makes a whole lot more sense than expecting a new twist on the same old/same old Jesus story!
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Holy Guacamole
Only in California can the BIG lead on the local news be the coming shortage of avocados! We're all lamenting the potential loss of "guac" with our tortilla chips.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Ellen Schmellen!
Yesterday, Monday, was the day after the live 86th Oscar extravaganza -- which included a pizza delivery this year and a selfie tweet that overwhelmed Twitter. Along with Ellen's hosting duties at the actual Oscars was the promise of "live Ellen after the Oscars" on her daily show -- which, yesterday, Monday, the day after the Oscar extravaganza -- was reruns.
Today is Tuesday, two days after the Oscars -- and Ellen is "live" after the Oscars! Ellen's sleep-deprived; her guests are tired from all the partying; and the talk is fresh about "last night" at the Oscars and all the fun had by one and all.
Except -- "live" is technically every show at some point in time, but I figured "live after the Oscars" meant the Monday show would be "live", not taped, the day after the Sunday Oscars, and not "live" on tape the day after the day after the Oscars.
Just sayin'!
Today is Tuesday, two days after the Oscars -- and Ellen is "live" after the Oscars! Ellen's sleep-deprived; her guests are tired from all the partying; and the talk is fresh about "last night" at the Oscars and all the fun had by one and all.
Except -- "live" is technically every show at some point in time, but I figured "live after the Oscars" meant the Monday show would be "live", not taped, the day after the Sunday Oscars, and not "live" on tape the day after the day after the Oscars.
Just sayin'!
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Juxtaposition
"Wedding dress" and "sexy" don’t belong next to one another in a bride’s description of how she wants to look on her special day. Assuring the store personnel that the bride wants to “show off my girls” in a plunging neckline is the wrong image, especially for a church wedding. Black brides are fond of “dropping it like it’s hot” to see whether the gown is tight enough over the (sometimes already far too bodacious)booty.
While I can understand that bridal gowns of years past may be too modest for today's bride, there has to be a middle ground between no peeking at private parts and showing the whole world what you’re bringing into the marital bedroom!
While I can understand that bridal gowns of years past may be too modest for today's bride, there has to be a middle ground between no peeking at private parts and showing the whole world what you’re bringing into the marital bedroom!
Friday, February 21, 2014
Botanical Gardens
This past weekend, I flew to Arizona to visit with my daughter (who was there on a business trip). The President's plane was mere yards from my departing plane, so I snapped a photo of Air Force One.
The first sculpture inside the gardens reminded me of the humongous fire cactus outside my livingroom window that grew so big I finally had to have it removed.
While in the Phoenix area, daughter and I also enjoyed an authentic Mexican dinner at an authentic barrio restaurant that featured an over-flow parking lot and at least 50 patrons sitting patiently outside the entrance, waiting for a table to become available. The food was delicious and well worth the time and effort to locate Commodore Guadalajara!
The brightness of the sun made this large red sculpture glow in the natural light. As a side note, the artist, Dale Chihuly, lives part-time in Palm Springs. His art and art installations are well-known around the world, and I've been told that small pieces of his work are available locally.
Daughter and I went to the Botanical Gardens and viewed an art installation that was breath-taking! The glass sculptures captured the indiginous plants perfectly and seemed to blend into the natural landscape--except for this one. I'm not sure of the reason behind the large Christmas balls hanging from a supporting beam.
The largest in height of the sculptures resembles an antler tree, such as is made in Wyoming (as well as other "hunting" states). It was beautiful as the sun shone through the many pieces of glass.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Sometimes the Obvious Answer is Unexpected
A Catholic priest decided that a visual demonstration would add emphasis to his Sunday sermon.
Four worms were placed into four separate jars. The first worm was put into a container of alcohol; the second worm was put into a container of cigarette smoke; the third worm was put into a container of chocolate syrup; and the fourth worm was put into a container of good clean soil.
At the conclusion of the sermon, the priest reported the following results: The first worm in alcohol . . . dead. The second worm in cigarette smoke . . . dead. The third worm in chocolate syrup . . . dead. The fourth worm in good clean soil . . . alive!
The priest asked the congregation, "What did you learn from this demonstration?"
Maxine, who was sitting in the back, quickly raised her hand and said, "If you drink, smoke and eat chocolate, you won't have worms!"
_______________
Not exactly the response the priest was going for, but a familiar situation for those of us who teach and/or work with groups of people. We think our set-up and examples are perfectly clear and will lead the listener to exactly the conclusion desired, but all too often there is a thinker so far out of the box as to be in a class all by him/herself. If you don't take Maxine's response seriously, she will be offended and alienated because she obviously put the clues together to arrive at the riddle's answer.
It just wasn't the answer the priest expected, but that doesn't mean it's a wrong answer!
My daughter would have said something to the effect of "Disgusting," my son would have said, "Awesome," and my honorary grandson would ask me a series of clarifying questions as he analyzed the riddle and the worms and the jars, and then he would defend Maxine's response as the correct one. Or, at the least, not incorrect.
Shamelessly stolen (and then cleaned up for grammar, spelling, and punctuation) from one of those forwarded emails that clog up my mailbox.
Four worms were placed into four separate jars. The first worm was put into a container of alcohol; the second worm was put into a container of cigarette smoke; the third worm was put into a container of chocolate syrup; and the fourth worm was put into a container of good clean soil.
At the conclusion of the sermon, the priest reported the following results: The first worm in alcohol . . . dead. The second worm in cigarette smoke . . . dead. The third worm in chocolate syrup . . . dead. The fourth worm in good clean soil . . . alive!
The priest asked the congregation, "What did you learn from this demonstration?"
Maxine, who was sitting in the back, quickly raised her hand and said, "If you drink, smoke and eat chocolate, you won't have worms!"
_______________
Not exactly the response the priest was going for, but a familiar situation for those of us who teach and/or work with groups of people. We think our set-up and examples are perfectly clear and will lead the listener to exactly the conclusion desired, but all too often there is a thinker so far out of the box as to be in a class all by him/herself. If you don't take Maxine's response seriously, she will be offended and alienated because she obviously put the clues together to arrive at the riddle's answer.
It just wasn't the answer the priest expected, but that doesn't mean it's a wrong answer!
My daughter would have said something to the effect of "Disgusting," my son would have said, "Awesome," and my honorary grandson would ask me a series of clarifying questions as he analyzed the riddle and the worms and the jars, and then he would defend Maxine's response as the correct one. Or, at the least, not incorrect.
Shamelessly stolen (and then cleaned up for grammar, spelling, and punctuation) from one of those forwarded emails that clog up my mailbox.
Monday, February 10, 2014
The Flatbush 4
What a fun movie! It's for the young at heart, but people in my demographic will get all the little touches that make Last Vegas such a hoot. Y understood some of the more overt humor and laughed aloud during the showing, but he missed some of the more generational references that totally sell the story to older generations.
Four consummate actors set up the comedy, as well as the serious moments, in a subtle way that adds depth to an otherwise fairly common story. Michael Douglas really shows his age in this film, but it's perfectly appropriate for the 60s man marrying a 30s girl, a role Douglas lives in his daily life. The posse is spot-on, nailing their parts perfectly, under-playing when it matters and allowing time for the laughter to build into a guffaw. So much can be said without a word spoken.
I don't know why this film didn't do better in its wide release, but at $1.25/ticket at the dollar movie theater, the seats were half-filled with laughing viewers -- not a bad showing for a Saturday matinee.
And about the Flatbush 4, you have to see it to get it and I don't want to spoil the moment if you decide to RedBox the film and enjoy it on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Four consummate actors set up the comedy, as well as the serious moments, in a subtle way that adds depth to an otherwise fairly common story. Michael Douglas really shows his age in this film, but it's perfectly appropriate for the 60s man marrying a 30s girl, a role Douglas lives in his daily life. The posse is spot-on, nailing their parts perfectly, under-playing when it matters and allowing time for the laughter to build into a guffaw. So much can be said without a word spoken.
I don't know why this film didn't do better in its wide release, but at $1.25/ticket at the dollar movie theater, the seats were half-filled with laughing viewers -- not a bad showing for a Saturday matinee.
And about the Flatbush 4, you have to see it to get it and I don't want to spoil the moment if you decide to RedBox the film and enjoy it on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
BroncoGate
If you ask me, someone turned over the Super Bowl playbook to the Seahawks! There is no way honestly for the Seahawks to know each and every play before the ball was hiked. It was as if they had the playbook and knew exactly how to counter each and every snap.
What a debacle.
What a debacle.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
The Solution is in the Parenting
Parents (well one really loud parent) are now demanding that Mars Candy, the makers of M&Ms, do a candy makeover to reduce the after-effects of hyperactivity in children who eat M&Ms. By "simply" changing the kind of dye used for the various colors, the hyperactivity outcome of indulging in M&Ms can be reduced. Or so the theory goes.
I have a much simpler, more cost effective change to propose: don't give your children M&Ms if it causes them to be hyperactive. We cannot change the world to accommodate poor parental decision-making.
I have a much simpler, more cost effective change to propose: don't give your children M&Ms if it causes them to be hyperactive. We cannot change the world to accommodate poor parental decision-making.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Going Too Far
I'm tired of anyone who is involved with a government agency screaming "racial profiling" and demanding ... a person's head on a platter. This time, it's the parents and "interested parties" who want an elementary school principal fired because she directed the school secretary to call "9-1-1, the police" when a young boy came to the office with a gash in his forehead from a playground accident. The principal has apologized to the parents, as well as the "interested parties," but that was not good enough: the media has added coverage of a public meeting involving anyone who wanted to attend it to hear the principal apologize publicly and then accuse her of trying to "cover up" a blatant issue of racial profiling.
The hue and cry leads one to believe that it was indeed with evil intent that the principal directed school personnel to call the police -- and there is absolutely no reason to believe it was simply a wrong word choice in the heat of the moment. This same site principal had to deal with a major automobile accident that involved a car breaking through the safety fence surrounding the school and hitting school children out for recess. It could have been that the principal misspoke in the heat of the moment as her brain flashed back to the children injured in that incident.
Okay, so maybe the principal should have said call "9-1-1, the paramedics," but I seriously doubt that the school personnel were thinking, as the parents allege, that the child was quite possibly in the country illegally, so call the police and have the child detained until the parents get there and immigration status can be verified. If this is the only way people can get their 15 minutes of media fame, we need to work to find other more appropriate ways to use time on the evening news.
The hue and cry leads one to believe that it was indeed with evil intent that the principal directed school personnel to call the police -- and there is absolutely no reason to believe it was simply a wrong word choice in the heat of the moment. This same site principal had to deal with a major automobile accident that involved a car breaking through the safety fence surrounding the school and hitting school children out for recess. It could have been that the principal misspoke in the heat of the moment as her brain flashed back to the children injured in that incident.
Okay, so maybe the principal should have said call "9-1-1, the paramedics," but I seriously doubt that the school personnel were thinking, as the parents allege, that the child was quite possibly in the country illegally, so call the police and have the child detained until the parents get there and immigration status can be verified. If this is the only way people can get their 15 minutes of media fame, we need to work to find other more appropriate ways to use time on the evening news.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Debris Field
The City of Desert Hot Springs, CA is about $3 million over its revenue, a plight that is causing panic and rampant talks about bankruptcy. Ironically, Code Enforcement and Animal Control have been plunged into the breach, checking door-by-door for unlicensed dogs (mine are not only licensed, but also vaccinated) and sending letters of non-compliance to residents for public nuisance violations.
The letter of non-compliance must be a form letter into which each resident's identifying data is merged because it refers to both visible trash cans and unsightly easements, both of which cause "visual blight." The letter implies that a Code Enforcement Officer actually looked at the easement at the back of my property and deemed it representative of "visual blight"; hence, the non-compliance order. However, the only way for anyone to visually inspect the easement at the back of my property is to access it through my property or by climbing up on two wooden fences and/or a brick wall that blocks access to the easement because my neighbors have created barriers to deny access to the easement.
Had an officer actually looked at the easement, s/he would have seen that "my half" of the easement is already clean and has been kept clean for the 13 years I've lived on the property. The "other half" of the easement features debris from wooden fences, a brick wall, and party remnants adjacent to the other properties that share the easement with me. Of course, once these residents toss their junk over their fence, it creates "visual blight" that they cannot see over their fences/wall.
I am the one who contacted Code Enforcement to question the complete blockage to access of the easement as there is a utility pole with a transformer at one end behind my house, and a telephone junction box at the other end. Utility personnel who have come to my door to ask me how to access this equipment have been allowed to cross my property to do so. I have recommended that they do NOT climb over my chain-link fencing as they could be injured in the process, but there is no other way into the easement. Because I give permission, it also means I assume liability in case of accident.
When I complained to the Code Enforcement Officer about the blockages, he told me that yes, there is a law that prohibits blocking access to the utility easement; yes, the people who create the blockage "should" be told to remove it; and yes, the bottom line is that there are not enough manhours to enforce the code. How about sending out another form letter into which you can insert property owners, one by one, accusing them of the infraction and giving them 3 weeks to correct the non-compliance or pay fines for failure to comply?
I may be a nice person, but I'm not nice enough to clean up after my neighbors who have tossed trash over their fences while I was in my backyard cleaning up dog poop. I paid to have an eyesore on my property hauled off, so they can pay to have their visual blight hauled off. I'll even recommend the hauler, George, who cheerfully loaded his truck with my little load and wished me a nice day in the process.
The letter of non-compliance must be a form letter into which each resident's identifying data is merged because it refers to both visible trash cans and unsightly easements, both of which cause "visual blight." The letter implies that a Code Enforcement Officer actually looked at the easement at the back of my property and deemed it representative of "visual blight"; hence, the non-compliance order. However, the only way for anyone to visually inspect the easement at the back of my property is to access it through my property or by climbing up on two wooden fences and/or a brick wall that blocks access to the easement because my neighbors have created barriers to deny access to the easement.
Had an officer actually looked at the easement, s/he would have seen that "my half" of the easement is already clean and has been kept clean for the 13 years I've lived on the property. The "other half" of the easement features debris from wooden fences, a brick wall, and party remnants adjacent to the other properties that share the easement with me. Of course, once these residents toss their junk over their fence, it creates "visual blight" that they cannot see over their fences/wall.
I am the one who contacted Code Enforcement to question the complete blockage to access of the easement as there is a utility pole with a transformer at one end behind my house, and a telephone junction box at the other end. Utility personnel who have come to my door to ask me how to access this equipment have been allowed to cross my property to do so. I have recommended that they do NOT climb over my chain-link fencing as they could be injured in the process, but there is no other way into the easement. Because I give permission, it also means I assume liability in case of accident.
When I complained to the Code Enforcement Officer about the blockages, he told me that yes, there is a law that prohibits blocking access to the utility easement; yes, the people who create the blockage "should" be told to remove it; and yes, the bottom line is that there are not enough manhours to enforce the code. How about sending out another form letter into which you can insert property owners, one by one, accusing them of the infraction and giving them 3 weeks to correct the non-compliance or pay fines for failure to comply?
I may be a nice person, but I'm not nice enough to clean up after my neighbors who have tossed trash over their fences while I was in my backyard cleaning up dog poop. I paid to have an eyesore on my property hauled off, so they can pay to have their visual blight hauled off. I'll even recommend the hauler, George, who cheerfully loaded his truck with my little load and wished me a nice day in the process.
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