Bits and Pieces

For the last week or two I have had a hard time feeling the motivation to post. Can you believe that? It felt like a chore more than something that I looked forward to doing. Fortunately, today is quite the contrary. And it's not even that I have something really exciting to tell the world, but more just the fact that I feel like I have to say something, or some things about a lot of things.

A couple of movies that I've seen the last several days. Over the weekend I caught Be Kind Rewind:



I won't really go into much detail about it. It doesn't really touch on any sensitive subjects, so it's pretty family friendly. I think there's a swear word or two, but mostly I liked hearing the replacement words and phrases they came up with like, "what the duck!?" To really enjoy this movie you have to appreciate silliness. I got in a little bit late and had to sit by myself because the theater was so packed. Enjoying the movie thoroughly, I often caught myself laughing by myself at least with respect to the row that I was sitting in. None of the kids that I sat next to laughed audibly the entire movie. The audience as a whole received the movie warmly, but not these teens.



And then I caught this one last night, Definitely, Maybe. I love the actresses in this one. All of them, but especially Elizabeth Banks. She's one of my top three, and not a big star by any means. Her eyes, more specifically the shape of them, draw me in. Just love her. This movie, however, not as much. It didn't go where I expected it to, and that is not always a problem, but that it went in directions that I didn't really care for it to go. Know what I mean? I didn't really like the little girl, Ryan Reynolds was pretty good. He was funnier than I expected him to be. My favorite scene of the movie followed a part when he had his heart broken.

For whatever reason, I just love movie portrayals of guys when they have been devastated. Maybe it comes from having been there before and realizing that for a director to project the right image, or for an actor to do it justice, they have to have experienced that kind of pain previously, and it's nice to know that I'm not the only one. One that is pretty funny is in Legally Blonde when Elle is watching TV and is in her pjs, eating chocolates, and screams "liar" and throws a chocolate at the screen. My favorite depiction comes from the 90s movie Singles. Have you guys seen that one? It was early 90s, but watching it now you realize just how gloriously 90s it is. It takes place in Seattle (of course) and has white guys wearing flannel, clothes that just don't seem to fit right, and tapered jeans. Several alt. rock bands make cameos including Alice In Chains, Soundgarden, and Pearl Jam. This particular scene shows the guy lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with food crumbs spread on him and on the floor, his apartment is a mess, and he has jazz music playing so loud that he can't even hear people knocking on the door. It's perfect. I love the movie probably more now than I ever did before because it is so quintessentially 90s. This is also a one-sided phone conversation that I enjoyed from the movie:

Linda Powell? Steve Dunne. Hey, yeah, I met you... 61 hours ago. Yeah, that was me. Listen, uh, do you want to get some dinner? Uh, how about some lunch? No lunch. Coffee? Water? How about some water? I'll meet you where you're already having lunch, and we'll have some water.

One last item of ward business and we'll move on to the sacrament portion of this post...

This article is one of several by Jay Nordlinger about his travels in India. Can you think of anything more romantic than being able to travel the world and write your observations on world culture? I don't mean the swooning kind of romance, obviously, but romance in the sense of utterly feeling and connected to the raw essence of emotion. Anyway, I really enjoyed this excerpt and thought it worth quoting at length:

When you visit India, the Taj Mahal, the temples, the palaces, and all that are very nice. But the best thing, to me, is the people. It is encounters with people that I most value.

Let’s start with the kids — and start with the fact that there are masses and masses of them.

They say that India is overpopulated. It probably is. But maybe other places are underpopulated. It is sort of startling to be around so many kids. I realize I don’t see them much, back home in New York. If you have more than your allotted 1.1 or whatever, you’re considered an environment-destroying rabbit.

And encounters with Indian children are almost invariably delightful. Show them a little attention or kindness, and you’ll have it returned, with interest. Kids are open, curious, laughy, grateful, fun-loving — just plain loving. (I generalize, heaven knows. But you can’t write without that.)

This has happened to me before: When I’m abroad — especially in a developing country — I can’t help contrasting the local kids with American children. We don’t come out so well, by some measures. Have American kids seemed to you extraordinarily bratty — like premature adults, brimming with attitude? That’s part of what I’m trying to say: The Indian kids — no attitude.

Wherever I go in this country, there are masses of children in school uniforms. They are immaculately groomed, even if their surroundings are filthy. I see this over and over. And the contrast is striking. The kids are shiny as pennies; their environment . . . is not.

And they seem so all-fired happy, even enviably happy! (Again, pardon the generalization, which is unavoidable. Lectures on the misery of the world are unneeded.) I think of my own country: Land of Grievance, Land of Complaint, where everyone’s a victim. And if you don’t think you are, just wait a second — you’ll find a reason.

The Indian kids have so little, materially; and ours have so much. But I wonder whether ours have less, in significant ways.

Mainly, Indian kids seem like kids. I don’t know how to put it better than that. I guess they conform to my conception of kids. They like fun, they like play, they like laughter, they like kindness. They don’t strike poses. Their faces do not reflect concern or resentment or distaste. They don’t pout. Isn’t that the natural expression of a child, a pout? Not in poor, poor India.

In very remote Rajasthan, where abodes are cow-dung huts, there are immaculate children in school uniforms. As I said: All over. These kids’ classes are in the open air. Yet the classes seem orderly, tranquil, useful. The kids have upturned, expectant, appreciative faces. Whining seems . . . impossible.

I return to a theme: These schools have almost nothing, in a material way, and we have everything. But we’re always crying poor, aren’t we? “It will be a great day when schools have all the money they need, and the Pentagon has to hold a bakesale.” I grew up with that bumper sticker. Well, kiss my . . .

And lastly, have any of you ever read a Stephen King novel? I've never read any of his work and was just wondering which would be the best one to start with. Let me know.