Well my wife and I went to see the Meryl Streep movie "Hope Springs." Not my kind of movie but I owed one for taking her to see Moneyball and, besides, I can watch Meryl do her work any time & not have a problem with it. My take on the flick? Spots - like the blowjob in the movie theater? - were really, no really, funny. Some segments were dead serious and required true actors at their craft. I got a kick out of the trills of nervous laughter coming from our suburban over-50 audience in places that... really?... was that funny or did it just hit home with you and the only thing you can do is giggle? So yeah, a pretty insightful flick with some very skilled players. If you're under 50, though, I'd pass. There are things that are geared for us oldsters that I'm afraid people under 50 just wouldn't be ready for. Not ready for because they're not going to admit that, why yes, these things could happen to me at some point. So unless you're in this age group go home and screw your brains out instead. That will be much more fun for you. But when you want to get to older people issues that are pretty universal, get this DVD. A revelation to me is that Tommy Lee Jones, a very good actor, looked kind of old and wrinkly to me in this movie, but my wife said - and Streep also mentioned in an interview - that he's still pretty hot to them. Go figure. At least I'm happy to report that the old white guy isn't the whole problem. It takes two to crank up bad marriage juju and I'm glad they explored that. Us old white guys are getting kind of tired of being the stupid TV Dad, the cranky stereotyped Grampa, and the problem husband who is the problem. Everybody had issues, and that was refreshing and gloriously grown-up to see. So kudos to that aspect of the flick.
I get very embarrassed when I look at things like my last blog post where I unleash the venom and just let it fly like that. It isn't healthy and I'm not even sure it isn't just me play-acting at shit. I've been trying for a long time to be well-reasoned and calm and judicious and fair. And I'm working on it, I really am. The thing is I still also do that even when not on the blog, like in real life and all. And that just is not cool, and I know it. But that's the kind of post that makes me want to delete the blog altogether.
It looks very likely that I'll be 60 years old in 14 months. How about that? No I don't feel it at all, nor do I believe that I think it either. I hope all of you who are not close to that age feel like I do when you get here. But next year we're thinking of a trip to wine country in California. And one of the things I'm thinking of is an open-air cockpit biplane ride - which has been on my "bucket list" since forever. I've always had a fascination with World War I aircraft and this would be as close as I'll get to it I guess. I mean, barring, you know, slipping through a heretofore undetected wormhole in the space-time continuum and ending up in Paris when it's 1915 and I'm like, you know, 20 years old and all.
Well I've been to 2 White Sox games this month and they won both. I'm going to see the Yankees on the 20th with a good friend of mine who is from the Bronx and grew up a couple blocks from Jerome Ave and saw DiMaggio play. Last time we went (his son sends him tickets to the Sox game when the Yankees are in town as a Father's Day gift, so I get to go free... see how that works?) the White Sox won something like 14-3 and he was as mad as a wet hen. I'm hoping for more moist fowl again in a couple weeks. Then on the Friday following I'm going YET AGAIN to see the Sox play Seattle. Nobody expected the Sox to be in this position, and I still have my doubts about how far they can go, but it's been a remarkable year for lots of reasons on the South Side. That's all a fan can ask for.
I've got one week of work left and them I'm on vacation for a week, during which I will work harder on my house projects than I do at work when working. Some vacation. But I'm kinda glad I can still do it.
And - hey - I've got a Farco'n MOUNTAIN of submissions to get to for Thrice #6. Everybody wants to be my baby...
Oh hey, look who is back...