What You Miss

I must apologize, Dear Reader. I've been on a current events/politics blogathon in recent weeks: the Oil Obscenity, Anthony Hayward, Sarah P. and Proverbial Feminism, Stanley McChrystal, etc. I didn't mean to do that; to paraphrase Vonnegut, I've been the victim of a series of train wrecks, as have we all. As a blogger, when you're caught up in alarms and outrages in the outer world, what you miss is writing about the more intimate, often more pleasing, and always more meaningful happenings in the personal realm. You might have been missing those kinds of posts here at Landscaping, too.

So, here's a little Landscaping Lite...more of a vlog today with an emphasis on things missed.

It's been more than twenty-five years since I've gotten the chance to take a small child to watch kids' movies on the big screen. We took our three-year-old grandson, Liam, to see Toy Story 3 this week, and I was captured by all that I had been missing.  First,  I'd forgotten the sweetness of sitting for over an hour with a beloved and rapt child in my lap, my chin resting on his little, cow-licked crown, and the smell of popcorn and clean toddler hair in my nose. I discovered that Liam has inherited my popcorn gene; he double-fisted his way with me through my Large bag and then reached for the reserve Kiddie Deal tray.

And, secondly, I've missed the revolution in films made for kids and families. Although I'd read about the changes in animation and writing that make this genre a growth industry, and had seen the gaggles of geeks flock onstage at the Academy Awards for "Best Animated Film", I'd expected to just tolerate Toy Story 3, but it was...how can I convey this in the sophisticated language my readers have so perspicaciously come to expect of me? It was totally cool!!! There was 3-D Pixar animation and a story line a bright three-year-old could follow. And then there was writing and sub-plot aimed squarely at the Boomer grandparents. If you think you're immune to kid flicks, check out this short clip in which Ken meets Barbie--perfect!



And, please forgive me, because I absolutely can't resist the whole, pitch-perfect, campy Ken train wreck, here's a clip that was made as an extra feature. Tell this isn't funny!




When we're here in southern California, as I've mentioned, we don't have cable television--in Retiree Recessionville, some things have to go--so we stick to DVD's and wireless streaming video of movies and documentaries. We get our news online and from NPR radio and, usually, that's adequate.  In the last few weeks, however, we've been really grateful for our YMCA Snow-bird Membership that let's us watch TV and exercise at the same time. When the news is as riveting as it has been in America of late, you miss a lot by missing just one day's information.

Typically, I opt for MSNBC or CNN on the screen when I'm cycling, but yesterday was Saturday and I was in news-saturation mode. Enough, already! I sat down on the comfy, angled seat of my computerized recumbent steed, pushed my feet into the stirrups, started my warm-up, and punched the power button for whatever channel the last viewer had chosen to watch.  I should have guessed it was a guy by the rake of the customizable seat settings.

Spike!   Holy Half Nelson, I had no idea! 


Don't laugh. Remember me? I'm the feminist, elite intellectual vegan who prefers quiet little British films and well-researched documentaries. I've only heard of Spike! tv by searching for the National Geographic channel in one of my rare television forays. But I was in a populist sort of mood yesterday; I'd just rediscovered children's entertainment--Barbie, Ken, Pixar, and Gummy Bears--so maybe it was time to try cathecting some man stuff. And, lo!, it was a revelation.


I had to wade through a swamp of ads for wrestling specials and Mike's Hard Lemonade man-'mercials (a phenom all on their own, apparently), but, when the hard, hard sell ended, I found myself watching The Color of Money. And there, all together and at once, were these things on the screen that I hadn't realized I was really, really missing.


Does it get any better...ever...than this music, these actors way back then, and this scene?



Tom Cruise before we knew he was weird. Warren Zevon, at his weirdest and best in "Werewolves of London."  Meditation at a lit pool table in a dark room. Paul Newman; I keep forgetting he's gone, and then I remember that I can see him anytime I want.  Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio--what a fabulous, imposing name!--isn't in this scene, but this movie was my intro to her.  I've loved her in everything since, the populist in me especially liked her in Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves.  


Oh, and here's a quiet little British film with Mastrantonio and Colin Firth that you might have missed:  My Life So Far .  Me, I'm ordering up The Color of Money again.