Get Off My Lawn!

It's garbage night. I'm running around the house making sure I have all the recyclables and anything I need to throw out. As it is, the living room is chock full of shopping bags full of old clothing and toys I'm waiting to give away, as well as tubs and boxes of fall decorations I'm in the middle of putting out - so I'm concentrating extra hard so I can clear out as much off the clutter as possible. Then out of the corner of my eye I see a kid (a big kid) run up my lawn. I jump to the door and start yelling as I see a big limb of my ever shrinking (I don't know what it is but it's pretty) tree laying across the side walk and hanging over the street. Then I yell louder "Yo! Yo! Get back here! You broke my tree!" (yes I'm so couth). Of course at this, the kids who are really young men start running. My own girls are hiding just in case it gets out that they live here and it's their mom who is the crazy woman.



I am so aggravated. I can't remove the limb myself, and if I could I'd be afraid I'd damage the tree further. Last spring, I had a dead limb cut off and I was so proud of the red leaves that bloomed after. It looked the best it had in a long time. And now, this. Plus, I can't leave the limb hanging like that for long so I'm in a quandary. Not to mention I'm gonna have to pay someone to remove it.



Freaking brats! This just reinforces the idea that I need to move. I keep shelling out money for the upkeep of the outside of the house (not beautifying mind you, just basic maintenance) every year, and ignoring the inside except when absolutely necessary, like clogged drains and animal traps. There'd be so much less outside work if I were in a townhome. Granted, I love planting flowers, I love the snow on the holly trees, I love the idea of a garden - but if I haven't done that in 15 years I doubt I will anytime soon. And now, with things the way they are, I won't make my move anytime soon.

The next morning I notice that the branch was conveniently bent back onto my lawn instead of over the sidewalk, however still attached to the tree. I appreciate whoever did that, that act bought me some time. Today while I was out, the lawn guys came to cut my lawn. They broke off the branch and moved it to a corner of my driveway. Again, more appreciation. I dragged the branch into the backyard to await the next bulk pickup and now all that's left is to find someone with a saw so I can attempt to shave off what's left of the branch and even it out. So after all my internal complaining, things did work out.

I know the kids were being just that, so I can summon up a modicum of understanding and forgiveness, however glad I am that they ran scared, because hopefully they'll think twice before playing around on someone else's tree. I can even forgive myself for becoming the old lady I despised as a kid.

Keep breathing :)

Summer's End

I'm getting this in just under the wire. Since this was one of the busiest summers I can remember, I wanted to take a moment and try to sum it up for myself (reflect, ponder - it's one of my favorite pastimes).

It began in June with my trip to Orcas Island, which I meant to blog about at some length but never got around to. Suffice it to say that this island affects me like no other place and I came away, once again, with a different outlook and slightly changed. It still amazes me that such a place with unaltered natural beauty exists on this planet, never mind in our own country. It is a truly magical island, as soon as I step foot ashore, I feel IT. I had the time to really delve within and explore and came away with some new realizations - which I'm sure played a part in the progression of my life since then.

Chrys and I took a mid-week trip on the ferry to Vancouver Island and bussed it to Victoria. I've now crossed the border by boat, plane, bus and automobile. I think I've got it covered. Besides the fact that I was freezing, we had a wonderful adventure. We had no plans, just hopped the ferry and decided to wing it for the next 24 hours. It was a blast!



Up next was the July 4th annual weekend on Long Island. It was cold and rainy this year, so I never went in the pool. But that didn't stop the Scrabble!

I blogged about Lollapalooza in depth below, but before that was my daughter's Consortium Art Show. This is the real reason for this blog, it gives me an excuse to post her artwork.








This last one is part of the "Dark Collaboration" between my daughter and her friend. What I loved best about this is that outside the character descriptions which were on a huge piece of posterboard, there exists commentaries about the characters. In the original pic, you can easily read the commentary, but I will post it here:

"Goths can be patriotic too???"
"Marilyn Manson and Ziggy Stardust got drunk one day."
"He deserves to be drawn wearing a dirndl. It'd suit him."
"Now I feel like drawing him in a dress just to see how it'd look."
"Do it then! hahaha"




Ok, maybe that's a little too much insight into my teenager's mind.....

The summer wound up with a great, relaxing trip to Ocean City, NJ immediately followed by back to school and a big family wedding. Of course there were countless interesting moments in between. Now when I should be fretting about the onslaught of schoolwork and related events, I'm content to be back in my routine and not living out of a suitcase.

The New Classics: Books

This is my long awaited (for me, anyway) follow up to The Big Read. EW composed a list of the 50 books they considered new classics, so this list is much more current than The Big Read. I wonder if more people have read these since their publication dates extend into the current century. Lots more of these are recognizable as movies. I've put comments next to the titles for the ones I've read or have something to say about.

The New Classics: Books

1. The Road , Cormac McCarthy (2006)
A father and son trudge across an ashen American landscape in the wake of some unnamed apocalypse, fighting off sexually predatory bandits, scavenging for food, uncovering charnel-house horrors, then moving on, constantly moving on, toward some mirage of a better future. We don't need writers of Cormac McCarthy's caliber to inform us of looming planetary catastrophes; we can read the newspaper for that. We need McCarthy to imagine the fate of the human soul if the worst really does come to pass; what he depicts in The Road is strange, awful, tender, and, in the end, surprising.

2. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling (2000)
The first three Harry Potter novels were pure kid stuff until, unexpectedly, Rowling went epic and dark —killing children, resurrecting evil, and sending Harry to war.

3. Beloved, Toni Morrison (1987)
''Beloved'' is a slaughtered baby, a belligerent ghost, a single word carved on a headstone, and hands down the greatest novel ever written about American slavery.

4. The Liars’ Club, Mary Karr (1995) [read this in a book club and liked it, the author also wrote a memoir of her druggie years, guess her crazy childhood panned out]
Mother was much married and ''Nervous.'' Daddy liked to drink. Their home in Leechfield, Tex., was definitely ''Not Right.'' The dysfunctional childhood is now a staple of memoirs, but no one has handled the material with more artistry and wit.

5. American Pastoral, Philip Roth (1997)
After crazy Portnoy, priapic Sabbath, and manic early Zuckerman, Roth launched a resplendent new chapter of his career with this mature elegy for bourgeois mid-20th-century values, for middle-class industrial Newark, for all the lost promise of the handsome, dreamy Swede. Bonus: It teaches you how to make gloves.

6. Mystic River, Dennis Lehane (2001)
A young girl is murdered; a father seeks revenge; a grimy multigenerational urban tragedy unfolds. Clint Eastwood's film is marvelous, but Lehane's brooding novel is even richer.

7. Maus, Art Spiegelman (1986/1991) [read parts of this cause it was assigned reading in my kid's 8th grade English class, graphic novel so it gets major points]
In Spiegelman's two-part retelling of his Polish- born father's experience in the Holocaust, the Jews are mice; the Germans, cats; the Americans, dogs. This harrowing masterpiece paved the way for a generation of graphic memoirists.

8. Selected Stories, Alice Munro (1996)
For 40 years, Munro has steadily churned out stunning short stories that read like compressed novels, conveying the sweep of a lifetime in a paragraph.

9. Cold Mountain, Charles Frazier (1997) [read this years ago and fumbled my way through it, i found it long and boring, but have yet to see the movie]
A walking tour of the lunacy of war, the power of memory, and the souls of men.

10. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Haruki Murakami (1997)
Murakami is a sly novelist for whom good and evil, fate and free will, and past and present are strange bedfellows. Here, Toru Okada's cat disappears — and sets in motion a mystery so surreal it would weird out David Lynch.

11. Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer (1997)
On May 10, 1996, Krakauer scaled Mount Everest. Eight other climbers lost their lives that day. Less than one year later, the guilt-ridden author released his searingly honest account, one of the best adventure books ever.

12. Blindness, José Saramago (1998) [I've read Saramago's The Double and loved it!]
An unforgettable fable about a city in the grip of a blindness epidemic. The good news: It's riveting. The bad news: This portrait of how mankind responds to desperate circumstances…well, it ain't togetherness.

13. Watchmen, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (1986–87) [Watchmen! Need I say more?]
The greatest superhero story ever told and proof that comics are capable of smart, emotionally resonant narratives worthy of the label literature.

14. Black Water, Joyce Carol Oates (1992)
In just 154 pages, Oates delivers a knockout punch of a novel inspired by Chappaquiddick, the archetypal story of an idealistic woman done in by the carelessness of a powerful man.

15. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers (2000)
The magazines, the literacy centers, the philanthropic efforts for Sudanese refugees: The whole McSweeney's phenomenon started with Eggers' mischievous, affecting memoir about raising his kid brother at age 21 after the sudden death of both their parents.

16. The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood (1986) [One of the most influential books I've read, this was on The Big Read's list too, as it should be]
After 1984 came and went without ado, we needed a new futuristic dystopia to haunt our sleep. Atwood obliged, dreaming up the Republic of Gilead, a grim theocracy where women are valued solely for their ability to bear children.

17. Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez (1988)
Nobelist García Márquez's luxuriant work of magical realism, about star-crossed lovers in an unnamed Caribbean nation, has rightly become a classic.

18. Rabbit at Rest, John Updike (1990)
Popping roasted peanuts and still unable to resist a pretty woman (even one married to his own son), Rabbit drifts to his death — as baffled and rudderless as when he debuted in 1960. A majestic finale to Updike’s quartet.

19. On Beauty, Zadie Smith (2005)
A rich, old-fashioned novel about contemporary cultural politics, this plummy saga about a mixed- race family in New England is the third — and finest — book by the prodigiously gifted British author.

20. Bridget Jones’s Diary, Helen Fielding (1998)
We love this ditzy Brit diarist for her pratfalls, endearing bad habits, and dead-on characterizations of Singletons and Smug Marrieds (v.v.g.!).

21. On Writing, Stephen King (2000)
When he wasn't cranking out pop classics like The Shining and Carrie, King was battling alcoholism and the effects of a debilitating 1999 car accident. He recounts both his good times and bad in this memoir, which boasts his tautest writing — and some of the soundest advice to writers set to paper.

22. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Díaz (2007)
Díaz creates his own language — a vigorous high-low street Spanglish — to write about Oscar, the tubby sci-fi geek hero from a Dominican immigrant family.

23. The Ghost Road, Pat Barker (1996)
In the final, gripping book of her WWI trilogy — possibly the best books written about those dreadful years — Barker brings back Billy Prior, sent again to the trenches in France after recovering from shell shock.

24. Lonesome Dove, Larry McMurtry (1985)
The heart sinks at page 50 of this loamy novel about genial cowpoke Gus, good-natured whore Lorena, cruel Blue Duck, and a very long cattle drive. Not because there are 800 pages left, but because there are only 800 pages left.

25. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan (1989) [read this years ago as well, and yeah, it deserves to be on a list]
Four elderly Chinese women with iron wills forged in the old country act out family dramas with their American-born daughters in ways that resonate for anyone with a mother.

26. Neuromancer, William Gibson (1984) [I just read this recently and am beyond ecstatic that its listed here]
This sci-fi novel brought the hacker ethos, artificial reality, and cyberspace to the mainstream — and boldly anticipated the wired way we live today.

27. Possession, A.S. Byatt (1990) [I always think no one is even aware of this book, but here it is on two lists and it deserves to be]
This fat prize- winning novel is impossible to classify — a ribald academic comedy, a love story, a cerebral literary mystery, a voluptuous page-turner.

28. Naked, David Sedaris (1997)
Last year, The New Republic accused Sedaris of ''flubberizing the truth for comic effect.'' Well, duh. Anyone who fell off their Barcalounger laughing at ''Dinah the Christmas Whore'' already knew that — and didn't care.

29. Bel Canto, Anne Patchett (2001) [I've read this but don't remember being affected much]
A South American embassy throws a birthday bash for a Japanese electronics mogul. A famed opera singer is on the guest list. The terrorists who swarm in through the air-conditioning vents are not. The diva's performance works miracles even with the terrorists, but it's Patchett who really sings.

30. Case Histories, Kate Atkinson (2004)
A case study in ingenious genre- bending, this sublime character- driven mystery includes troubled sisters, sex crimes, and a Cambridge-based PI.

31. The Things They Carried, Tim O'Brien (1990)
James Frey could have learned from O'Brien, who openly marries fiction with autobiographical fact in his inspired stab at deeper truths about the Vietnam War.

32. Parting the Waters, Taylor Branch (1988)
The first installment of a richly detailed three-volume history of Martin Luther King Jr. and the civil rights movement.

33. The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion (2005)
In a single year, Didion lost her husband and watched her only daughter battle a grave illness (to which she would eventually succumb). Here, she diagrams her soul- crushing pain with characteristically cool precision.

34. The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold (2002) [oh yes, LOVE this book, should be required reading]
A dead teen named Susie Salmon (''I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1973'') narrates Sebold's supple and unnerving first novel.

35. The Line of Beauty, Alan Hollinghurst (2004)
This glorious social novel is set in Thatcher’s Britain, when AIDS was just starting to spoil all the freewheeling fun.

36. Angela’s Ashes, Frank McCourt (1996) [damn,this list is good!]
''When I look back on my childhood, I wonder how I survived it all.'' After reading your ravishing memoir, Frank, so do we.

37. Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi (2003) [3rd graphic novel, not that I'm counting or anything...]
Another sign that comics have matured: this wry illustrated memoir about growing up in Iran during the violent upheavals of the 1970s and '80s.

38. Birds of America, Lorrie Moore (1998)
The standout in Moore's brilliant collection: ''People Like That Are the Only People Here,'' a briskly tragic tale about a mother and her gravely ill child.

39. Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri (2000)
We've now been spoiled by two more books from Lahiri, but neither surpasses her luminous debut.

40. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman (1995–2000)
Pullman's acclaimed fantasy trilogy is a grand, intellectually daring adventure through the cosmos.

41. The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros (1984)
In delicate vignettes, Cisneros depicts a girl growing up poor with six siblings in '80s Chicago.

42. LaBrava, Elmore Leonard (1983)
Why LaBrava and not Get Shorty? Or Killshot? Good question — they're all terrific. But we like LaBrava for its almost- smart-enough hero, the louche Miami Beach setting, and the saucy love interest.

43. Borrowed Time, Paul Monette (1988)
The late Monette's pain-drenched memoir about the death of his partner, Roger Horwitz, is a timeless reminder of a time when AIDS was untreatable

44. Praying for Sheetrock, Melissa Fay Greene (1991)
A Faulknerian nonfiction portrait of the racial complexities of the South, focusing on one Georgia county in the 1970s and '80s.

45. Eva Luna, Isabel Allende (1988)
A beautiful servant with a magical gift for storytelling, Eva enjoys ever more enchanted journeys until she meets the man of her destiny.

46. Sandman, Neil Gaiman (1988–1996) [OMG, can I love this list any more?]
Channeling Tolkien and superhero innovator Jack Kirby, Gaiman creates a romantic, tragic dream king who straddles mythology and imagination, battling Lucifer and serving as muse to Shakespeare. A classic work of fantasy lit in comics form.

47. World’s Fair, E.L. Doctorow (1985)
In this autobiographical novel, 1930s New York City comes vividly to life through the eyes of a 9-year-old Bronx boy.

48. The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver (1998)
An epic about a zealous missionary who drags his wife and daughters to the Belgian Congo in 1959 — and to a hell largely of his own making.

49. Clockers, Richard Price (1992)
This compassionate, tough-minded novel about a young black drug dealer anticipated HBO’s The Wire.

50. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen (2001)
Before the kerfuffle with Oprah: his splendid, talky family saga. —Jennifer Reese, Jeff Jensen, Tina Jordan, and Kate Ward

Whew, I'm exhausted due to my excited reactions to seeing so many of my faves on this list. I added several books to The Big Read, but I don't feel that's so necessary here (with the exception of The Kite Runner). Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore are both represented. I am definitely more familiar with the books that I haven't read here, as opposed to the other list, and several are on my to do list. There are some duplicates as well. So the accountant in me did the percentages. I've read 18% of this list as opposed to 32% of The Big Read. I wonder what that says about me....

Lollapalooza 2008

This past weekend was the eagerly awaited concert event of the year for me. Having been a traveling Lolla veteran of 1992 and 2003 (which I had completely forgotten), this was my first time at Lolla's one-time Chicago destination. I have to admit the Gotham City location added to my excitement.



My plane was delayed out of Philly due to bad storms in Chi-town but all that was forgotten when upon arriving at the airport, Sergio greets me with the amazing news that we get to see The Gutter Twins at a Lolla after party sponsored by Spin Magazine. Once over my disbelief, I couldn't believe my luck! I was going to see The Gutter Twins at a club in Chicago, after a day in the park and for free! I'm exhausted just thinking about how exciting that was.

Ok, so Day 1 started with getting oriented to the CTA (Blue Line!) and the layout of the festival in Grant Park. My music consisted of The Black Keys (rock!), a little bit of Cat Power, The Raconteurs (major rock - I was blown away) and ended with none other than Radiohead!! This was my first time seeing Radiohead and they did not disappoint. Of course the field was huge and I was way in the back but the light show and set list were great, and it was supplemented by fireworks over Lake Michigan, not that the show needed any more atmosphere. Wow. But the night was young.....

The crowds on the streets were insane after the show. All 3 days sold out, so that's 75,000 people let loose in Chicago each night. After wandering around a bit, we found a cab and made our way to Reggie's for the after show. Our names were on the list! Does it Offend You, Yeah? were supposed to do a DJ set but somehow lost their equipment and made do with a CD player. Spin even had free drinks, but they weren't really drinkable. By the time the Gutter Twins took the stage, the club was packed. My second wind had taken hold. Dulli seemed to be in a good mood and the band was real tight. They played several new songs that I'm hoping will be on the forthcoming EP: Feathers, Flow Like a River, and Change Has Come. Mark's voice was intense, I wish I could remember which song it was but at one point, he blew me away more than usual. At the end of the set, I snagged the set list. Yay! After a long ass train ride, we arrived back at our hotel and completely crashed.

Day 2 - I woke with a start. Oh shit, gotta get ready and go see the Gutter Twins again! Sergio and I barely made it to the park for the GT's 2:30 show. I was running across the field when I heard the music start. Why does nothing excite me so much as music? I was talking to a guy at the airport and he referred to his musical obsession as his 'problem'. I'd prefer to call it a 'passion', but really at this point, shouldn't I engage in a more philanthropic pastime? Even in the midst of all this excitement, I can't help the inane pondering.



After the Gutter Twins set we made our way over to Perry's, a dj tent, but we had just received a text that Slash was going to make a special appearance during Perry Farrell's set. After waiting forever, Slash finally showed up but never played a lick because something was wrong with the sound equipment. Apparently Slash and Perry won the kids over on Sunday at Kidzapalooza. After much texting and phone calls, we finally met up with my friend Justin with a chance walk by. He took us over to see Explosions in the Sky, which are a progressive instrumental band that now qualify as the biggest find of the festival for me.


Ok, here's where it starts to get a little hazy, but still totally fun. We hung out at green street for a bit, did some shopping and catching up with Erin. Next up was the Toadies but not before a stop at the bar for some beer and wine. I was feeling no pain. When the Toadies launched into Possum Kingdom, it was all over for me. For years I've said that song was at the top of my 'to do' list, and though its not checked off yet, to hear it live and at Lollapalooza was definitely the next best thing. From there it was directly to Rage. Now I've seen Rage at Coachella 2007 and as insane as that was, Lolla was more so. Zack stopped the show 3 times pleading with the crowd to take steps back and take care of each other. Luckily my altered state of mind provided me with a no-fear mindset. But Sergio and I did bow out of the crowd early - the porta potties were calling my name. (I've finally figured out a way to overcome the gag factor.) Making our way out of the crowd was no easy feat though. The after Rage wind down consisted of a long, fast walk to Navy Pier and tons of grub. Then another long ass walk and long ass train ride before crashing could be commenced.


Day 3 - We decided to take it a little easier today being Day 2 was chock full of constant action and no rest. From a nice spot on a tree covered slope, I took in the Jon Butler Trio and Iron and Wine. From there it was an attempt at Saul Williams, via the Flogging Molly crowd. We eventually settled at Blues Traveler, for a traditional, rocking show. Gnarls Barkley were next and I finally redeemed myself after being lame and tired and missing their set at Coachella 06.
Gnarls were another highlight for me. Surprisingly, they covered Radiohead! Then it was another trek through a tight crowd partying at Girl Talk on the way over to NIN. Trent is calling this tour "Lights in the Sky over North America 2008". And it lived up to its name. I've seen NIN a few times and this was the best. The music, the lights, the sound, the Chicago skyline framing the stage - a perfect way to end the festival. Trent even got a little nostalgic about the first Lollapalooza and all the years that have passed - and then he went right into Hurt - brought me to tears.

Yet again, the night was still young. After resting on the lawn at Millenium Park, we stopped at the fountain to see what all the hooting and hollering was about. People were having tons of fun. The night finally ended after a feast at Miller's and the last long train ride back to the hotel. I had an amazing time. Can't wait till next year!

Tales of a Neurotic Woman

My girls went on vacation with their dad, as they always do, twice each summer. This time he took them to Montreal. There was a huge ruckus on Saturday as my innocent children couldn't get past the border without their birth certificates. I must have received a dozen phone calls. I was out of town as well so it was hours later when I was finally able to fax over their birth certificates and they were able to enter Canada. (I'll refrain from making smart comments about my ex's wisdom in all this, not to mention the fact that my kid's were not the only ones without proper identification - ok so I tried to refrain). This was all resolved about 8pm on Saturday. It is now past noon on Monday and I have not heard from them since. I've called 5 cell phone numbers and left messages numerous times. I cannot call the hotel since I don't know where they are staying. My mind is reeling with thoughts of well-executed abductions including birth certificates willingly provided by the custodial parent.

Update: I've since heard from them and it seems they are in the only place in North America with no cell phone reception. I'm trying to figure out why I immediately went to the worst place possible. I did this a couple of weeks ago too, when a phone call at the end of a 5 minute walk never came. I usually assume the best unless I have a reason to otherwise. Maybe it's cause they're on the tail end of growing up and my influence is waning. This deep seated fear I never had before has suddenly reared its ugly head. I don't like it and I don't like the feeling.

There's another feeling I've had lately that I don't like. It's reminiscent of a deep, dark place I used to dwell in full of emotional intensity and addictive roller coasters rides. I used to revel in dwelling there, like there was no truth beyond it, no better place from which to view reality. Anything else was an illusion. I thrived on it, and it did me some good then. It was a place I needed to go to survive, at a time in my life that welcomed it. Even when I no longer required it, a piece of me remained, inextricably tied there. Finally and cautiously I moved beyond it. I haven't fully examined what it means to live where I now reside, joy is still sometimes elusive and love even more so, but I am happy to be here. These old feelings have awakened in me a desire to move further away from them, to continue to search out experiences of joy and light, and love. I've had an odd wish today to drink a glass of wine and dance, just dance as if dancing will set me free.

A Full Moon and The Dark Knight

Holy Fucking Movie Batman! I have so much to say about this movie and the experience surrounding it, but due to construction on the Schuylkill it took me over an hour to get home, so it will have to wait until tomorrow. (I actually wrote myself notes while sitting in traffic). If anyone plans to go, do not delay, go now!!

Ok, its time for the real recap of my TDK exerpience:

As the title says, last night was a full moon which I thought was highly appropriate for the night's adventure. As i said in my previous post, my tickets were free courtesy of my cable/internet/phone company. The movie was being shown at the UA Main Street 6 in Manayunk. I wore my bat tee for the occasion and upon arriving immediately realized how lame that was. We picked up our tickets and made our way to the nearby Manayunk Diner for some grub. As soon I walked in 2 of the waitstaff complimented me on my tee. OK, so I felt better. But I could hardly eat due to my nervous energy. This wasn't a Tool concert, I was surprised at how excited I was. The waitress even sat down and inquired how long I'd been a bat fan!

After eating, we made our way back to the theatre. We patiently sat through Regal's First Look
and then the 'turn off your cell phones' message. At this point , although the theatre was only half full, you know everyone there was raring to go. And then....nothing! The screen froze and there was no sound. We all sat there looking at each other until a security guard (not an usher mind you, a security guard) came in and told us the movie would be delayed another half hour.
Hmmm, whatever, I passed the time reading a vampire manga book my daughter lent me.

Finally, the previews began - most notably for me were The Spirit and of course, Watchmen.

Spoiler alert: (not really, I don't give away any major plot lines, but just in case)

Then, The Dark Knight began, with a wild opening sequence that I cannot wait to see in IMAX.
This film had much more action and cringe scenes (for me, anyway) than Batman Begins. It's much less of Bruce Wayne's personal story and more of the universal conflict between good and evil, sane and crazy, hero and villian. But taken on the heels of Batman Begins, it was golden.

All the hype over Heath Ledger's Joker was right on. This was really his movie. Whatever accolades he receives for this role are well deserved. I thought Aaron Eckhart portrayed a very believable Harvey Dent as well.

I also previously wrote about being schooled in Bat lore. I am certainly glad for that because I felt a certain kind of satisfaction at being able to recognize story lines, knowing that the writers did their homework and which of the plot turns did not stay true to the original comics. I was extremely pleased to see that the relationship between Batman and The Joker had the same psychological implications as that that was brought out in The Killing Joke. The scenes and the dialogue between the two characters were just as intense as I'd imagined.

I left the movie to view the sight of the full moon in the night sky, and pondering the themed takeaway questions. Is it better to know the truth even if you are 100% sure it will hurt? What hurts more, the staged reality or the truth? Does the lie truly protect the innocent? Does believing in the lie really help those who it is meant to protect? These themes played out for Batman as well as the good citizens of Gotham City. I couldn't help but think of my bat benefactor and wonder how they are playing out for him at this very moment. How are they playing out for me?

I love it when a movie makes me think, and The Dark Knight met that expectation fully. I can't wait to see it again.

Superheroes

This week I finally got around to seeing Iron Man. I had heard that it was good and was intrigued at the idea of Robert Downey, Jr. as the lead character. My only previous encounter with Tony Stark was through Neil Gaiman's Eternals series, though I was aware of his back story. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie and it's awesome ending, which, for some strange reason was very validating. I had a harder time accepting The Dude as the villian, but that came together by the end as well. Must be those iron suits.

Next up is The Dark Knight. While by no means am I an expert on Batman, I do consider myself pretty well versed in Bat lore. I loved Batman Begins and I am beyond excited for The Dark Knight. I've been greedily devouring every preview, behind the scenes, interviews, articles, photos, etc I can get my hands on.I planned to see it in IMAX but had to wait till Sunday of opening weekend because the other times were already sold out. Then yesterday I get an email from my cable company offering free tickets for Thursday, before opening night! I jumped at the chance and scored my tickets!

Now here is the catch - I left Iron Man thinking Robert Downey Jr. (as Tony Stark) could be my superhero anyday, and I obviously feel the same way about Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne. However in real life, multi-millionaire, corporate, fast-car driving, suited men don't do a thing for me. Mind you, I've never met one, but you'd think that my values and tastes would translate to the big screen, and historically they have. So I've boiled it down to this - it's not the magic of the movies or Hollywood - it's the power of the comic, the fact that I've read these characters before, and of course the biggest aspect is the superhero factor. If I feel a connection to someone it doesn't matter what his day job is, and that goes for mogul superheroes as well. I can't wait for Thursday....