Friday night began with sniffles, sneezing, and a scratchy throat; by yesterday, I hunkered down in my comfy bed with a box of tissues, a bottle of cough syrup, and the daytime so you can sleep medicine. Thank God another CSI marathon afforded me the opportunity to sleep off and on, even though I had not seen many of the shows included in this monthly marathon and will now have to watch next month to see what I missed. I guess the good news is that there is always another CSI marathon!
However, I woke up slightly for the Oscar celebration, but no matter how well it’s presented, it’s basically a boring couple of hours and I found myself drifting in and out of lucidity.
This year, the tedium of the red carpet fashion parade was spiced up with Gary Busey’s weird appearance. Is the man suffering from mental issues or preparing for a comeback role?
I can’t tell you how tired I am hearing about this baby bump and that baby bump, usually accompanied with the cooing of the mommy glow comment. I don't find pregnant women attractice--at all--whether fully dressed or displaying their naked swollen abdomens on the covers of magazines or in movies. The false front worn in Juno was totally offensive, especially when exposed in public places.
Cameron Diaz looked as if she had forgotten it was Oscar’s big night and had to pull together a quick ponytail to dress up her totally drab appearance. Didn't work; next time, book a hair appointment.
My least favorite gown of the night was worn by Cody Diablo, and it looked much worse when she made the trophy walk from her seat in the audience to the podium. I’m guessing she didn’t do a dress check in the privacy of her own home to see how she looked in motion as that dress had no flow, but did have a serious privacy issue. And the shoulder tat was not an attractive accessory: the colors didn’t match the gown.
Helen Mirrin wore the prune face with élan, but I’m not sure why she looked so pinched—or is that pissed? She played a queen, but her appearance last night suggested that she wants to be the queen.
Stand-out moments for me were the 80 years of Oscar presentations, including the best picture winners and various performers.
I’m not sure why we have to listen to the long version of the song nominees: we aren’t subjected to watching each of the movies in toto before the recipient is announced, so couldn't we have a clip of the songs?
The tribute to those who have passed to their eternal reward is poignant, but I’d like someone to read or say something inspirational as part of that, rather than simply flashing photos onto a screen. The captions were a challenge to read as the font was too small and the print in black and white, so I’m not sure who most of the honorees were during that segment.
Jon Stewart thinks he’s funnier than I find him to be, so he had no trouble keeping a brilliant smile on his face, but he showed his sensitive side when he brought back the young woman who co-wrote the winning song so she could offer her thanks, which were heartfelt and genuine. That was a shining moment, of which there should be more.
Other than those moments from my place in the sheets, the Oscars were okay, but I could have watched a couple more episodes of CSI and probably been more entertained.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Perception and Reality
According to what the media has shared about the alleged McCain affair, aides allegedly talked confidentially to McCain in 2000 because it was the aides' perception that the public could think that McCain's friendship with a blonde lobbyist could be perceived to be more than friendship and potentially cause problems for McCain's then-campaign. Seldom does the public encounter such a strong case for or against any of the hot topics currently driving the media!
The problem with interpreting situations couched in such deep obfuscation is that today, that alleged perception not only has become headline reality, but a morality issue for McCain that threatens to terminate his presidential aspirations.
Doesn’t “alleged” mean not proven? Why does “alleged” morph into hard fact when it’s printed on the front page of a newspaper or repeated endlessly by salacious gossip seekers and news media?
Sure, there are those who live their lives by the old adage “Where there’s smoke, there's fire,” but I know for a fact that there is smoke without fire, a lesson learned while driving the freeway through Escondido. Judging from the amount of smoke coming from a cluster of buildings next to the freeway, I was sure there was a major 9-1-1 emergency. However, when I drove past the scene, I realized that it’s just smoke coming out of a vent and dissipating into the air. My perception was not reality, but had I not verified the source of the smoke before I called 9-1-1, I could have set off an alarm for nothing.
There have been events triggered by persons who have applied their perception to my life and made it reality for anyone who would listen to them. It took time to learn the lesson that nothing I could say or do would change the perception, so I kept my mouth shut and let the gossip run its course, which is what McCain should do. However, I'm not running for office, just trying to live my life, so validating petty people with personal agendas doesn’t rate too high on my “to do” list.
McCain, however, will live the rest of his life with a world-wide audience of believers who condemn him for having an affair—whether he did or did not—because they allowed someone else’s perception to become their personal reality. There is no taking it back, no do-over, no say you're sorry, no retraction that can lessen the damage created by the publication of the allegations, which is probably the purpose for planting the allegations in the first place.
Freedom of the press does not mean the freedom to print whatever comes across the news desk with impunity; it means the freedom to report that which is investigated, researched, and responsible factual information. Making it up as you go along isn’t news, it’s libel.
In a single stroke of the author's pen, allegations can destroy both the campaign and the candidate, becoming a powerful, lethal weapon for anyone who believes that their personal perspective should be the public's reality, especially during a political campaign.
The problem with interpreting situations couched in such deep obfuscation is that today, that alleged perception not only has become headline reality, but a morality issue for McCain that threatens to terminate his presidential aspirations.
Doesn’t “alleged” mean not proven? Why does “alleged” morph into hard fact when it’s printed on the front page of a newspaper or repeated endlessly by salacious gossip seekers and news media?
Sure, there are those who live their lives by the old adage “Where there’s smoke, there's fire,” but I know for a fact that there is smoke without fire, a lesson learned while driving the freeway through Escondido. Judging from the amount of smoke coming from a cluster of buildings next to the freeway, I was sure there was a major 9-1-1 emergency. However, when I drove past the scene, I realized that it’s just smoke coming out of a vent and dissipating into the air. My perception was not reality, but had I not verified the source of the smoke before I called 9-1-1, I could have set off an alarm for nothing.
There have been events triggered by persons who have applied their perception to my life and made it reality for anyone who would listen to them. It took time to learn the lesson that nothing I could say or do would change the perception, so I kept my mouth shut and let the gossip run its course, which is what McCain should do. However, I'm not running for office, just trying to live my life, so validating petty people with personal agendas doesn’t rate too high on my “to do” list.
McCain, however, will live the rest of his life with a world-wide audience of believers who condemn him for having an affair—whether he did or did not—because they allowed someone else’s perception to become their personal reality. There is no taking it back, no do-over, no say you're sorry, no retraction that can lessen the damage created by the publication of the allegations, which is probably the purpose for planting the allegations in the first place.
Freedom of the press does not mean the freedom to print whatever comes across the news desk with impunity; it means the freedom to report that which is investigated, researched, and responsible factual information. Making it up as you go along isn’t news, it’s libel.
In a single stroke of the author's pen, allegations can destroy both the campaign and the candidate, becoming a powerful, lethal weapon for anyone who believes that their personal perspective should be the public's reality, especially during a political campaign.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Total Darkness
As I was driving home last evening, I was reminded by NPR about the eclipse. One of the benefits of desert living is spectacular access to heavenly presentations, including the comet years ago that shone as brightly as a spotlight across the universe, easily visible with the naked eye as it traveled from east to west. I checked the clock in the car and saw that I would make it to the front yard just in time to watch the last total eclipse of the decade.
I turned off the highway and onto the road that leads toward my dwelling, looked for the moon, and was reassured to see it right where it should be. "Won't be long now," I thought, when quite suddenly, the moon simply disappeared. Swiftly moving black clouds blotted out the moon before the eclipse could accomplish the same task, and the sky was dark as far as the eye could see.
It was eerie. Total darkness. No stars. A canopy of black stretched across the heavens. Ominous portends?
The total black-out lasted for several minutes; however, when I turned toward my street in the residential area, the clouds moved and I saw the eclipse in progress, highlighted in a reddish glow. It was a relief to see the moon return to the sky and know that all was again right in the universe.
I turned off the highway and onto the road that leads toward my dwelling, looked for the moon, and was reassured to see it right where it should be. "Won't be long now," I thought, when quite suddenly, the moon simply disappeared. Swiftly moving black clouds blotted out the moon before the eclipse could accomplish the same task, and the sky was dark as far as the eye could see.
It was eerie. Total darkness. No stars. A canopy of black stretched across the heavens. Ominous portends?
The total black-out lasted for several minutes; however, when I turned toward my street in the residential area, the clouds moved and I saw the eclipse in progress, highlighted in a reddish glow. It was a relief to see the moon return to the sky and know that all was again right in the universe.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Shark (website) Bites
I bought a Shark steam mop, which works really well on what seems like acres of tile in my home. It cleaned up the sticky mess on the floor in front of the ‘fridge, as well as the greasy mess in front of the stove. In the bathrooms, I felt the air smelled fresher after cleaning the tiles, even though I mop at least weekly. Thus, I’m pleased with the product.
However, the steam mop requires washable micro-fiber pads, 2 of which are included with purchase. It takes 2 to do my floors, so I want to order a packet of micro-fiber pads, as well as the carpet glide option, as back-up. I went to the website to register, but although the site accepted my info and my password, when I tried to use that info to order the products, it shut me out. After retrying several times, I decided a more effective use of my time and energy would be to make a phone call to the number provided in the instructional manual.
I could not understand a word mumbled on the recording, but I listened carefully to the options before realizing that there is no option to order products, just to request either service or technical support. Deciding to chance selecting an option that featured my steam mop, I then waited for a human to speak. I made sure I had the website page with the items I wanted open, too, so I could complete this transaction and get the products in a timely manner.
I was offered the opportunity to describe the service required, to which I replied that I wanted to make a purchase. I explained that I had difficulty with the website, so called the number, but it appears that I have reached tech assistance, rather than an option to order product.
“What is your name?” I was asked. I always use a nickname on-line so I know which companies sell my info, and that’s the name I provided, along with my last name. Most people cannot spell the last name because it sounds differently from the way it looks, but I’m used to that, so I don’t say my name, just spell it—slowly.
When the voice could not spell the first name correctly (4 letters; hard to mess up), I anticipated the foul-up with the last name—and was not disappointed. At that point, I hung up my phone because I’m not going to waste time, energy, and cell phone minutes with people who aren’t fluent in English.
The products are not sold at the point of purchase, Linens ‘n Things, because, as the salesperson explained to me when I bought the steam mop, the micro-fiber pads are “really good,” according to the company, and don’t need to be replaced, just washed after each use. No matter how good they are, I want a back-up on the shelf so I don’t have to wash and wait for the pads to dry before I can finish cleaning. I also want the carpet glide for touch-ups in the living room, but I was assured that ordering on-line is easy and provides fast turn-around with shipping.
Yeah, right.
I’ll find someone else to register for me and try again to order the products I want because I’m locked out of the website unless I change my name, my address, and the email contact I provided!
However, the steam mop requires washable micro-fiber pads, 2 of which are included with purchase. It takes 2 to do my floors, so I want to order a packet of micro-fiber pads, as well as the carpet glide option, as back-up. I went to the website to register, but although the site accepted my info and my password, when I tried to use that info to order the products, it shut me out. After retrying several times, I decided a more effective use of my time and energy would be to make a phone call to the number provided in the instructional manual.
I could not understand a word mumbled on the recording, but I listened carefully to the options before realizing that there is no option to order products, just to request either service or technical support. Deciding to chance selecting an option that featured my steam mop, I then waited for a human to speak. I made sure I had the website page with the items I wanted open, too, so I could complete this transaction and get the products in a timely manner.
I was offered the opportunity to describe the service required, to which I replied that I wanted to make a purchase. I explained that I had difficulty with the website, so called the number, but it appears that I have reached tech assistance, rather than an option to order product.
“What is your name?” I was asked. I always use a nickname on-line so I know which companies sell my info, and that’s the name I provided, along with my last name. Most people cannot spell the last name because it sounds differently from the way it looks, but I’m used to that, so I don’t say my name, just spell it—slowly.
When the voice could not spell the first name correctly (4 letters; hard to mess up), I anticipated the foul-up with the last name—and was not disappointed. At that point, I hung up my phone because I’m not going to waste time, energy, and cell phone minutes with people who aren’t fluent in English.
The products are not sold at the point of purchase, Linens ‘n Things, because, as the salesperson explained to me when I bought the steam mop, the micro-fiber pads are “really good,” according to the company, and don’t need to be replaced, just washed after each use. No matter how good they are, I want a back-up on the shelf so I don’t have to wash and wait for the pads to dry before I can finish cleaning. I also want the carpet glide for touch-ups in the living room, but I was assured that ordering on-line is easy and provides fast turn-around with shipping.
Yeah, right.
I’ll find someone else to register for me and try again to order the products I want because I’m locked out of the website unless I change my name, my address, and the email contact I provided!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Definitely, Not Maybe
After completing a bit of shopping and devouring an Island Burger at our favorite restaurant, we headed to the theater for some light entertainment before I had to drive back home. Although we both wanted to see Michael Clayton, there was only one showing all day, and that a bit of drive, so we decided to see Definitely, Maybe. The trailers make the movie seem like a laugh a minute chick flick, but it turned out to be somewhat content heavy and quite good.
The premise of the story is a sex ed class taught at a daughter’s school. At an inquisitive age (10), the daughter wants to ask tough questions and receive straight answers, using the words “penis” and “vagina” in the process—even in public places. Finally, settling down for the night but still wanting to know about sex, the father placates his daughter by offering to tell the story about three women who were significantly involved in his life, including the child's mother, but renaming them to protect confidentiality. The conversation is tied into the father’s divorce from the daughter’s mother, a situation which neither of them fully comprehends.
It’s a nice story about looking into the past to understand the present. The father worked on Clinton’s first election campaign, and we see him segue from youthful idealism to middle-age pragmatism. Some of the Clinton clips used in the film are eerily prescient to today’s election, which adds a dimension to the film that may not emerge in another time. As the years pass, the father recalling his life is bitter that Clinton had difficulty defining the word “is,” when a tougher word for Clinton to handle would have been “truth.” However, when he sees Clinton jogging in the park many years later, the father still reacts with shades of idealism when he calls out, “I worked on your election campaign.”
This part of his life becomes a metaphor for his intimate relationships with women, which are youthful and idealistic, too. The father sees what he wants to see in the moment and acts on that, rather than looking deeper and, perhaps, understanding more about himself and the women with whom he becomes involved. He goes in circles, not finding what he needs to be happy, but taking what he can get at the time so he can think he’s happy. It is his daughter who finally understands why her parents are divorcing and what her father needs to be happy.
The film is not a comedy, although there are elements of humor, but it is a thoughtful look at relationships, not just between men and women, but between a father and his daughter, which occurs seldom enough to be engaging. It is nice to have the story told through the man’s eyes as all too often filmmakers take the easier route through the woman’s recollection.
The man remains manly, while also being fatherly, which takes maturity on the male actor’s interpretation of the script. He travels to the top of his field, crashes, and then remakes his life into what we all recognize as middle-class: respectable, not spectacular. The child remains a child, although a child at the pushy, bratty, on the cusp of her teen years’ independence. The women who play the love interests throughout the man’s youth are pretty without being artificial, playful without being twits, and capable of earning their own way in life, rather than relying on a male provider, so they don’t have to hang on long after the relationship has run its course.
On a Saturday afternoon, Definitely, Maybe goes well with popcorn and a few free hours, and tells a story that both adults and young adults can enjoy and, perhaps, benefit from sharing. Add it to the NetFlix list!
The premise of the story is a sex ed class taught at a daughter’s school. At an inquisitive age (10), the daughter wants to ask tough questions and receive straight answers, using the words “penis” and “vagina” in the process—even in public places. Finally, settling down for the night but still wanting to know about sex, the father placates his daughter by offering to tell the story about three women who were significantly involved in his life, including the child's mother, but renaming them to protect confidentiality. The conversation is tied into the father’s divorce from the daughter’s mother, a situation which neither of them fully comprehends.
It’s a nice story about looking into the past to understand the present. The father worked on Clinton’s first election campaign, and we see him segue from youthful idealism to middle-age pragmatism. Some of the Clinton clips used in the film are eerily prescient to today’s election, which adds a dimension to the film that may not emerge in another time. As the years pass, the father recalling his life is bitter that Clinton had difficulty defining the word “is,” when a tougher word for Clinton to handle would have been “truth.” However, when he sees Clinton jogging in the park many years later, the father still reacts with shades of idealism when he calls out, “I worked on your election campaign.”
This part of his life becomes a metaphor for his intimate relationships with women, which are youthful and idealistic, too. The father sees what he wants to see in the moment and acts on that, rather than looking deeper and, perhaps, understanding more about himself and the women with whom he becomes involved. He goes in circles, not finding what he needs to be happy, but taking what he can get at the time so he can think he’s happy. It is his daughter who finally understands why her parents are divorcing and what her father needs to be happy.
The film is not a comedy, although there are elements of humor, but it is a thoughtful look at relationships, not just between men and women, but between a father and his daughter, which occurs seldom enough to be engaging. It is nice to have the story told through the man’s eyes as all too often filmmakers take the easier route through the woman’s recollection.
The man remains manly, while also being fatherly, which takes maturity on the male actor’s interpretation of the script. He travels to the top of his field, crashes, and then remakes his life into what we all recognize as middle-class: respectable, not spectacular. The child remains a child, although a child at the pushy, bratty, on the cusp of her teen years’ independence. The women who play the love interests throughout the man’s youth are pretty without being artificial, playful without being twits, and capable of earning their own way in life, rather than relying on a male provider, so they don’t have to hang on long after the relationship has run its course.
On a Saturday afternoon, Definitely, Maybe goes well with popcorn and a few free hours, and tells a story that both adults and young adults can enjoy and, perhaps, benefit from sharing. Add it to the NetFlix list!
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