Category Archives: Movies, Television and Radio

Green-eyed fan

My husband makes no secret of the fact that he is wildly in lust with actress Natalie Portman. He quivered all the way through Black Swan. From the seat next door, I could tell he was projecting himself onto the screen with her. Never mind that he is almost old enough to be her grandfather.

Just a few days ago, he harrumphed at the fact that she’s starring in a romantic role opposite Ashton Kutcher in the upcoming No Strings Attached. His feeling is that Kutcher is no match for Portman’s talent, beauty and experience. I am pretty sure my husband won’t be rushing to see his love share a screen—or bed—with the actor he pretty much considers a goofball.

On the flip side, I am an Ashton Kutcher fan and have been since he played a goofball on That 70s Show. Never mind that I am more than old enough to be his mother. Apparently, he’s quite intelligent. He can act okay enough, is plenty handsome and, I dare say, is pretty darned appealing.

Here’s the funny thing. According to a Vanity Fair piece appearing online yesterday, my husband isn’t alone. In fact, the magazine’s Juli Weiner has a theory about why men won’t be rushing to see the No Strings Attached: Jealousy.

Remember, in Black Swan, while sizzingly sexy, Portman didn’t play opposite a male lead per se. This, I suppose, is why men may have found it easy to imagine themselves on screen beside her. Weiner posits that one reason men aren’t eager to see her upcoming movie is that “men are saddened, revolted, and tortured by jealousy at the mere thought of Portman’s paramours.”

Very well then. The movie opens January 21st. Who’s up for a girls’ (well, middle-aged ladies’) night out? The guys can stay home and weigh in on VF‘s poll, “Who Is the Person You’d Least Like to Imagine Sleeping with Natalie Portman?” (As of this posting, John Mayer’s in the lead.)

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The List

Every New Year’s Day, the first thing I do is open The Washington Post and read The List, a comparative account of what’s Out and what’s In in the new year. Other papers around the country may publish something similar, but the Post tends to include a few inside-the-Beltway references.

What always strikes me is that I didn’t know so many things were In until they were already Out. Brussels sprouts, for example. Conversely, I am amused to read what’s now In that was already In for me. For example, IHOP is now In. I celebrated my birthday there (by choice) two weeks ago.

Sorry, Betty White, you’ve been replaced by Anne Meara. I’m just glad you’re both enjoying your due glory.

I’ve jotted down a few personal Ins and Outs:

OUT IN
Two spaces after a period One space after a period
Oxford comma No comma
Hot house Central air conditioning
Goose bumps Hot flashes
Real Housewives of anywhere Hot in Cleveland
Coffee, alcohol, chocolate, garlic, onions, tomatoes, fried foods, and late night snacking Hot water and Dexilant happy hours
Zicam Webcam
Pandora jewelry Pandora radio

 

What’s Out and In for you in 2011?

Happy New Year.

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Time for a change

I promised I’d tell you about the 9:45 a.m. phone call that got me out of bed yesterday.

The call was from my doctor with the results of a recent blood test. Not to worry, the diagnosis was not of a disease and it’s something very common. Just not for me. So I’m bracing myself.

The test results foretell change swirling about our house. All I can do now is wait. For mood swings, hot flashes, maybe a mustache. I have already started losing my thick hair. And now I’ll be growing hair where I don’t want hair. Like on my chin.

I apologize to those with delicate sensibilities for the indelicate subject today. But I also thank the creators of All in the Family who, in 1970, brought a taboo subject into American homes, and playwright Jeanie Linders, who turned a horrific condition into a Broadway musical.

My husband isn’t sure what to make of it all. His first question had to do with the mood swings: “How is this going to differ from how you already are?” At least he didn’t ask that about the mustache.

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Inertia

I am sorry to be a little late again today with the post. I am also sorry for all those who had to go in to work today, especially if they were the principal executors of their families’ holiday preparations. I could not have gone in to an office today.

I awoke as usual, between six and seven this morning. I told myself, “You have to get up. You have to feed the cats. You have to go to exercise class. You have to write your blog.”

“You have to turn over and go back to sleep.”

 Then I succumbed to the intense force of gravity that pulled me deep into my Stearns & Foster Pillowtop mattress. At around eight, I started to wonder why I was so tired. Granted, I did get up early yesterday to work at church, but then I came home and spent the rest of the afternoon on the sofa. And I went to bed early. I had no idea why I’d be so tired. I hadn’t felt this fatigued since, oh, right after last Christmas.

Then the vignettes started rolling in my head. They started around the second week of November. Designing Christmas cards, writing the dreaded holiday letter. Having the letter printed. Then re-printed. Shopping. Wrapping. Shipping. Side-stepping contractors working in our home during the most important three weeks of the year. Traveling on business while, thankfully, my husband did all the decorating. Trading infections four times with my husband. Meal planning. Entertaining. Grocery shopping: many trips to many stores, timed just so, to maximize product quality and freshness. Cooking. Lots of cooking. Meeting my son’s new girlfriend and hoping she’d like us. Adhering to written budgets and project plans. Following timelines set so that the three of us could get out the door for church on time Christmas Eve. Failure. They weren’t ready on time, so I left them. (As they’d say on Everybody Loves Raymond, I AIS’ed ‘em.)

Then came Christmas Day. We slept in, which was heavenly, and enjoyed a nice breakfast followed by exchanging gifts. We Skyped in my brother-in-law, who joined us via satellite at his usual seat on the sofa.

My husband cleaned up the wrapping paper, cautioning me, “You know, when I die, you are going to have to take over this job.” Wow, I have only 25 years to learn how to put trash in a bag.

After that was done, napping and movie-watching ensued while I spent three and a half hours in the kitchen preparing dinner. This included the traditional ritual of a kitchen accident which, this year, involved my slamming two fingers in a metal door.

The phone finally got me out of bed this morning at 9:45. Maybe I’ll tell you tomorrow what that was about. In the meantime: Cats fed. Exercise class missed. Blog written. Back to bed.

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At last

It’s finally time to be serious. For nearly a month now, I have complained and laughed nervously about the madness that are the weeks leading up to Christmas.

It happens every year. I push myself past the limits to get everything done, to get everything just right. I complain about what the Christmas Season (Advent, really) has become, and then I fall right into it.

When Christmas—real Christmas—really settles in for me is at about four o’clock Christmas Eve, when I am sitting in church, quietly soaking up the peaceful music. I will have spent the day as a manic madwoman, yelling at everyone to get showered and out the door. I’ve been a monster. It’s my tradition.

It’s at four o’clock that I finally contemplate the wonder of what Christians have been celebrating for thousands of years. I think about peace. I feel the love of those around me. I’ve been known to doze for a moment.

Sometimes I think about Linus as he so calmly and thoughtfully answers Charlie Brown’s desperate question: “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?” Linus says, “Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about.” I haven’t watched Linus’ recitation yet and not gotten choked up.

To those who observe Christmas, Christians and non-Christians alike, may you find meaning and hope in the holiday, peace in the celebration and rest from the madness of the past few weeks.

I’ll be taking a break from blogging tomorrow and Sunday. See you on Monday.

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Nightmare before Christmas

The stress of the impending Christmas holiday has caught up with me. Maybe you can relate. Perhaps by the end of the day today, you will have reached your travel destination or your visiting relatives have arrived on your doorstep.

You haven’t sat down for weeks, having cleaned up the wrapping supplies in time to set the dining table, and then pulled them back out after a last-minute addition of a relative to the festivities. You have survived the melee that is the grocery story parking lot with one wit and come screeching into your driveway on two wheels.

Television dramas and sitcoms like to show Christmas movies surfacing in dreams during the holiday season. You’ve seen It’s a Wonderful Life featured in characters’ dream sequences, as Brothers & Sisters did a few weeks ago.

One of the favorite movies in our house is National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Last night, it became my own personal dream sequence. If you know the movie, think through it with me, and I am betting you could conjure your own dream sequence featuring the characters of your holiday.

One member of the family, exceedingly idealistic about holidays, has unrealistically high expectations for this Christmas, willing to go to great lengths for a Normal Rockwell experience. The next door neighbors, who don’t celebrate Christmas, shake their heads at the spectacle.

A backwoods cousin arrives, bursting with contentment and enthusiasm while getting on everyone’s nerves with his annoying habits and clumsy foibles.

Arriving with the in-laws is a cacophony of conflict, with each trying to out-shout the other, everyone talking at the same time.

Meanwhile, tensions at the office escalate when the traditional holiday bonus doesn’t come and the protagonist tries to put up a cheerful front with the family. He suffers pangs of nostalgia about his own childhood Christmases and struggles to keep the spirit amidst the chaos.

Christmas Eve arrives, along with the doddering aunt and uncle, who have one mental marble between them. She doesn’t know her own name and says the Pledge of Allegiance when asked to say grace. He sets the Christmas tree on fire with his cigar. Don’t you just hate when that happens?

In one of the final scenes, the idealist exclaims, “Merry Christmas, Holy Sh**, where’sthe Tylenol?”

Sweet dreams!

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Ironic, my dear Watson

Perhaps you have read the news that in February, for the first time ever, a computer will compete on Jeopardy!

You might remember when an IBM computer beat chess world champion Garry Kasparov in a six-game match in 1997. IBM’s latest challenge was to build upon that feat by taking technology to an even more difficult and complex level—building a computer that processes natural language, complete with humor, irony and sarcasm, as well as nuances, regionalisms and slang.

Having apparently met that challenge, Watson will compete against Jeopardy! champions Ken Jennings and Brad Rutter February 14 through the 16, 2011.

The computer, named Watson after IBM’s founder, was developed by technologists and researchers from around the world.

While its debut on Jeopardy! will make a big splash, the goal of the technology is ultimately to forge more advanced communication between humans and computers. This goal undoubtedly will harvest scientific and societal benefits in fields ranging from healthcare to customer service.

However, I cannot help wondering what practical applications Watson might offer if ever the technology became available at the consumer level.

How long before the next software release coming out of Redmond, Washington, will include Microsoft Irony, an application to detect, interpret, even insert rhetorical nuances in interpersonal and corporate communications?

Could Watson displace humor columnists and language bloggers? Will we turn on our televisions and see Watson sitting behind Andy Rooney’s desk on 60 Minutes?

If you were a member of IBM’s global research team, what real-world application would you be itching to create for Watson? Or, as a consumer, what application would you want available for purchase?

Personally, I am hoping Watson will be smart–and courageous–enough to tell Jeopardy! clue-writers to put the periods and commas inside the quotation marks, where they belong.

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Life’s lessons learned

A few days ago, I mentioned that I had received a gift subscription to Esquire magazine. By the way, the giver remains anonymous.

I also mentioned that I was looking forward to reading what various public figures said about what they’d learned about The Meaning of Life. Last Thursday, a four-hour plane ride gave me time to explore.

The public figures had plenty to say on the subject, and their comments held as much entertainment value as wisdom.

But buried within the feature were comments by private figures—regular readers of Esquire who wrote in with their pearls of wisdom about what they’d learned along life’s road. They’re my favorites in part because I can relate in some way to each one.

I’ll start by sharing the regular-Joe pearls, then give you some snip-its from the celebs.

“Being out of work for seven months in 2010 taught me character, humility, and persistence. It also really sucked.” – Yale Hollander, 42, St. Louis

“The fact that curiosity killed the cat isn’t an argument for not being curious; it’s an argument for not being a cat.”  — John Alejandro King, 40, Washington, D.C.

“Never eat at a chain restaurant while on vacation.”  — Curry Smith, 26, New Orleans

“Get in shape to play. Don’t play to get in shape.”  Russell Bryan Love, 44, Santa Cruz

“Of all the things I’ve become attached to, the ones I superglued to myself caused the greatest regret.”  — Daniel Rahe, 30, Tacoma

“Sometimes your neighborhood bar feels more like home than home.”  — Derek Gale, 30, Chicago

“I always took pride in the fact that I was not one of those guys whose ego was tied to his career. But when I lost my job, I was amazed at how much my ego was hurt.”  — Mickey Chapatte, 52, San Diego

There is a lot of wisdom among the celebrity “What I’ve Learned” entries, so pick up a copy of the magazine or go online and read them all. Here are just a few of the ones I found meaningful:

Robert Redford:  “Humor. Skill. Wit. Sex appeal. That order.”

James L. Brooks:  “Every laugh you have at the keyboard does not mean everybody else will laugh. But laughing helps sustain you to move forward.”

Fred Willard:  “Ballet I love for about five minutes. Then I want to see a comic come out.”

Ricky Gervais:  “Music is still the greatest art form. I’m in awe of it. A chord can make me feel sick.”

Danny DeVito:  “I’ve been to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It’s a tower and it’s leaning. You look at it, but nothing happens, so then you look for some place to get a sandwich.”

Here’s to The Meaning of Life and to getting closer to finding it in our own lives. L’chaim.

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Secret Santa, Esq.

I seem to have received an anonymous gift in the mail and I am hoping I can use this forum to coax the giver into coming forward.

A few days ago, I found in my mailbox what appears to be a gift subscription to Esquire, one of my favorite magazines. I don’t currently subscribe but I delight in picking up an issue now and then at the airport. If this is indeed a year’s subscription, I’ll be thrilled.

Come to think of it, I’m afraid I recently threw away a piece of mail from Esquire, presuming it pertained to a gift subscription I gave someone else some time ago. So, Secret Santa (or Birthday Elf), if your kind gift came with a gift subscription card, please know that I stupidly trashed it and have no idea who you are. Any information leading to the identity of this thoughtful person will be rewarded by a humble, handwritten thank you note.

You may be wondering why I like Esquire in the first place. It’s a men’s magazine. In addition to enjoying the fashion ads and well-written articles about interesting political and international hot topics, I enjoy reading a man’s perspective on interpersonal relationships.

I especially enjoy the writing style of Esquire writers, finding it complements the other periodicals I read.

The January issue had me at Man at His Best (MaHB)’s The Vocabulary. A little sidebar lists words and phrases a man should never say—little boys’ room, among them. Euphemism of the Month is worth the price of subscription.

The issue includes an extensive piece on The Meaning of Life, which taps the minds of entertainment and political figures about what they’ve learned over the course of their interesting lives. I haven’t gotten to this yet, but I look forward with anticipation to reading what Robert DeNiro, Robert Duvall, Aaron Sorkin, George H.W. Bush and even Dr. Ruth Westheimer–and others–have to share.

Try getting the meaning of life from People.

I can’t wait for February.

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Santa’s stereotypical surprise

Before we move beyond the subject of Christmas movies, there was one tucked away on our shelf that I had forgotten about. This may be a good thing, though watching it could also be illustrative of how things have changed in the last 60-plus years.

When our son was little, someone gave us a video cassette of three Christmas cartoons that were originally made in 1947. One was called “Santa’s Surprise.” It’s a sweet story about children from around the world pulling together to do something nice for Santa when he returns to the North Pole after a busy Christmas Eve.

When we first watched it with our son more than 20 years ago, our initial thought was, what a nice message about grateful children giving back to the good soul who had given so much to them.

Then we noticed the well-intentioned, socially-acceptetable-in-1947-but-not-in-modern-times gaffe.

Stowed away in Santa’s sleigh were children representing the continents of the world—each in his or her ethnic stereotype, complete with contrived, exaggerated dialects and background music. Just guess which child laundered Santa’s clothes? And which one shined Santa’s boots?

Needless to say, in 1990, we tucked this video away in the far corner of the cabinet, preferring to play what we as parents considered more enlightened portrayals of the world’s citizens. Yeah, like Mr. Bean?

Anyway, for instructive and historical purposes, have a look at “Santa’s Surprise” for yourself. If you don’t have eight minutes, fast forward to the 2:42 mark.

Then maybe you can help your children thank the esteemed Mr. Clause in his or her own way.

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