Man of Steel

Each actor who has portrayed the character of SuperMan has brought his own uniqueness to the role, and Henry Cavitt continues the great chain of (super) beings. His chiseled looks enhance the "caricature" aspect of the comic book hero, but Henry's facial features morph into human features of various emotions, such as friendship, respect, loathing, and love. Sparks fly when he meets his Lois Lane, and other sparks fly when he realizes the fight is to the death. The sheer joy on his face when he tests his newly-discovered super skills is the same look on any kids' face when riding a two-wheeler for the first time, mastering a skateboard, hitting the ball off a T, jumping into the pool for the first time, or any of the other rites of passage today's youth use to mark their life journey.

Y and I enjoyed an early-morning showing of the film, which was packed with families celebrating Father's Day. My only caveat for the film begins with the "appropriate audience" approved movie trailers that were far too bloody and violent for all the little children in the theater. I also question the parenting decision to take younger children, those well under age 10-12, to such a violent film. Children are influenced by life's events, whether real or imaginary, and later on, when young adults act out/act inappropriately, sometimes we forget the uber-realistic visual bombardment we showered on our children at the movies. Not everyone who is exposed to violence grows up to be violent, but when a person says, "I snapped," s/he could be reverting to these overly-violent blockbusters that lurk in their subconscious.

Yes, that's my sticking point with the film: the violence is too extreme, too loud, too forcefully in-your-face. I harken back to the good ole days when SuperMan bounced on a trampoline and dove through an open window to fly toward evil, lying on what must have been an early green screen, his cape streaming out behind him. When he held up his hand to stop a bullet from finding its mark, SuperMan convinced me and other children that he was, indeed, impervious to harm from an evil enemy. To a child, it seemed almost magical, and what was portrayed on the screen was filled in with a child's vivid imagination and suspension of disbelief that made it all seem so real.

I disagree with the critics that the latest SuperMan film is too dark, too ponderous, too dull -- and I'm going to say that the other audience members today will agree with me, not the critics, based on the wild applause at the end. I'm not sure what the critics look for, but perhaps they should simply sit in a darkened theater filled with customers and base their ratings on what the people applaud, rather than some phony scale for ratings that is based on technical merit.

Applauding Vivian at US Airways

Hurrah for Vivian at US Airways in the greater Phoenix, AZ area. After my pleas to have a redundant payment of $179.10 refunded to me fell on deaf ears in numerous telephone conferences in which I engaged in a repeatedly futile attempt to get the customer service rep to even acknowledge that a refund was owed to me, I figured I had nothing to lose by sending a letter to the same address I had sent the original payment. I penned a letter, included my documentation of the original check deposited to a US Airways account, and figured I felt better for being proactive, but didn’t expect anything to come of my efforts.

I’ve learned the hard way that it is almost impossible to use reason, logic, or truth with big business. This time, however, I am pleasantly surprised as Vivian called to tell me that it took her a while to track down someone who could authorize the refund, but she finally received approval to send me back the $179.10 and I should have it in a couple of weeks. Nah, I don’t get a “refund fee” to match the businesses’ “late payment fee,” nor do I get accrued interest as they wanted to charge me for allegedly failing to pay the payment on time,

but I’m going to get something for my effort – and for Vivian’s persistence. Yeah for team Vivian!

PS: the check was in the mailbox yesterday!

Googleness

Vince Vaughn is a funny man; who knew he is also a funny writer? He’s the one with the idea for The Internship, a story based on the Google concept of “Googleness.” As they say at the campus, if you have to ask what it is, you don’t have it and you can’t get it. The Internship is a predictable, but funny, film that shows how individuals can develop into productive teams in spite of themselves.

The use of an ‘80’s film, Flashdance, is the tool for selling a great idea: keep the faith, have hope, and when all else fails, just dance your way to the finish. The core cast of interns that surround Vaughn and his sidekick, Owen Wilson, capture the individualism of characters that must bond in order to succeed. The film also captures the reason why “every man for himself” doesn’t work for all people and/or all the time. Sometimes, the people with whom we surround ourselves are the spark that brings us success we could not achieve on our own.

I like The Internship, even though it is predictable. There are funny moments, hilarious moments, poignant moments, and even some “serious business” moments that make the running time fly by, rather than crawl. And, there’s the “Rocky” moment at the ending, all in all a great way to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon.

The Graduate

I graduated from high school in June 1963. I was tall and thin, and wore my very blonde hair long. It is fifty years later and I am still tall, not at all thin, and wear my rapidly whitening hair long. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

We have a class reunion person, a gal who seems to think the greatest activity in the world is staying in touch with people from “our class” and then arranging reunions so we can attend and wonder who the heck that person is! Because I’m single, it’s awkward to attend the more formal functions, so I did opt for the Sunday afternoon barbeque at the 45th reunion – and sort of recognized a few people, actually knew two people, and had no clue who the others were, nor what their lifetime accomplishments were. No one was impressed with my career as a classroom teacher, the reaction akin to the old saw “those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach.” I’m proud that I spent thirty-five years in front of a podium at both the high school and the college levels. I made a contribution to society that didn’t net much in financial and/or societal returns, but I know that many of “my” students have gone on to live productive lives.

The 50th reunion is looming large, coincidentally in the same time frame as my cataract surgery. I’m not enthusiastic about attending this event, not even the barbeque, and I can use my surgery as a reason not to make the drive and socialize with people I barely remember and with whom I share so little personal or professional history. The reunion gal, however, wants a huge turn-out, so she’s on every level of social media hyping the event and haranguing us to attend.

The invitations are in the mail, so I have to make a decision: should I go, or should I stay ... home.

waiting and watching

The asphalt was taken up; a huge hole was dug, then filled in. The water truck seems to run 24/7 in a sometimes futile attempt to stop the gale-force winds from redistributing all the sand on my street to the street due west. Heavy-duty equipment has become part of our daily lives as the sewer pipe installation continues in the neighborhood.

Today, I'm waiting and watching to see what happens. There is an expensive brick wall around the perimeter of my front yard. The construction crew put an orange arrow from the street to the wall, then from the wall inside my yard to a spot just shy of the landscape circle. A huge bucket wielded by an obviously bored bucket operator gouged a huge piece of real estate on the street side of the wall and turned it into yet another ditch. Just prior to breaking for lunch, he stopped -- and now is back for the part of the arrow inside the brick wall.

I paid to have the wall installed, and it was not cheap; however, it was done correctly, with a nice deep cement footing anchoring it in place and rebar reinforcement. It's not something I want to see gouged with the big bucket, so I walked out to talk to the man supervising the equipment. He said he'll do his best, but another worker told me, "No problem, we'll dig under the wall. It won't be damaged."

I'm waiting and watching because I'm not sure I believe any person who assures me that it's "no problem." I've already been told that we have to pay whatever it costs to hook up to the sewers from the house, and that we have to do that during a specific time frame. We also have to hire and pay for a crew to fill in the septic tank, although I've never had an issue with mine and don't see why it can't just be left as it is. And, we have to pay through an added assessment to our property taxes for the total cost per household for this project, which means my payment will go even higher next year (my housepayment has increased by $400/year over the course of the past 10 years due to increased taxes and fees and assessments over which I have absolutely no control). I wish I had the money to just pay all these costs, but that's not my reality. Or the reality of anyone else in the same boat.

I'll let you know what happens.

UPDATE: my wall is still in one piece and the big machines have moved down the street, so guess everything is okay. My next-door neighbor was not so lucky: the crew broke her water main and she's again without water! Last week, it was the landlord who hadn't paid the water bill, then the water company charging a reconnect fee that the landlord wouldn't pay. She's had a rough couple of weeks, but she keeps on keeping on.