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.
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