Movie Reviews

I often wonder why movie reviewers always seem to rate movies that I think are boring so highly. What is that these so-called critics are looking for? I go to movies to be entertained, to laugh, and basically to escape the daily grind for a couple of hours. I don't care if the film is artsy or well acted. That being said, there are a lot of movies out there that are complete crap. Here are some I liked and some I didn't. By the way, my friend Tom Ginn has some very detailed movie reviews on his blog, Down In Front.

Spiderman - all of them - lots action, but please resolve the love interest. That bores me. Kirsten Dunst is boring too.

Children of Men - great story, surprisingly good.

Shrek 1 and 2 - not just for kids - very funny as they should be with Mike Myers and Eddie Murphy.

The Last King of Scotland - OK I lied, because the critics liked this one and so did I. Forrest Whittaker plays a very convincing Idi Amin.

300 - pretty good for a film made in a Quebec warehouse.

Man of the Year - surprisingly good, and Robin Williams is back to being funny.

Pathfinder - needs to find a better plot, could have been a good story.

The Reaping - good story, although the plot became predictable. Not that scary either.

The Illusionist - also surprisingly good.

The Prestige - another magic movie, also quite good.

Apocalypto - go Mel! I liked it, even if it wasn't historically accurate (I guess we have some real old movie critics!).

Borat - I thought this movie was absolute crap.

Casino Royale - hello new James Bond. I liked this movie better than any other James Bond film.

The Descent - a truly scary movie. You'll never catch me caving!

Flyboys - nice try, but I found it weak.

It Must Be Frustrating

In a month or so my dad will be placing my mom in an assisted living senior's home. Although mom is in reasonably good health for a 77 year old, she has no short term memory. She can remember her whole life up to a few months back, and remembers family, pets and relatives. But she can't remember what day it is or what was said seconds before in a conversation. And so, she frustrates everyone by asking the same questions over and over, and is a danger to herself as she forgets to turn off the stove and iron. She starts things and then forgets them.

My dad has been a model of patience, but even he is showing the stress and frustration of having to deal with a stubborn and proud woman who knows something is wrong but can't do anything about it. And so, the home would seem best for both of them, as now mom can't forget medication or food and will have lots of controlled activities. And dad, he will have some freedom to go out and not worry about mom.

I worry for them both. And I try and spend as much quality time with them as I can, as do the rest of the family. It seems hard to grow old with dignity.

All this reminds me of a song line - I hope I die before I get old.......and sometimes I do.

Forgive me!

I know I shouldn't think things like this, but in the heat of the moment I did. I hope God has a sense of humor!

Last weekend I was playing in the annual year-end slo-pitch tournament for the Christian league that I play in. One of the league traditions is for a player to say a prayer before and after each game. Almost always these prayers are along the lines of thanking God for the nice weather, asking that everyone be good sports and hoping that no one gets hurt. The league has 5 divisions and the teams range from very good to not so good. This year, our team was not so good. Actually, we weren't that bad, but most of the other teams in the tourney were from the top two divisons, that is, good.

After a couple of butt-kickings I got to thinking that my team were kind of like the Washington Generals - you know.....the team that always plays and loses to the Harlem Globetrotters. It was going to be a long and frustrating day. But as we were preparing to start the third game, it occurred to me that perhaps our pre-game prayer should take on a slightly different focus. Something kind of old testament. Maybe we could ask God to get bibilical on the other team (sort of like getting medieval on someone's butt in Pulp Fiction??). So while the teams were praying, I found myself wishing for a plague, an infestation of locusts or perhaps a good old fashioned smoting. Nothing permanent - just enough to give my team a bit of an edge.

We lost again, but led for a while and kept the score close. I wondered if perhaps I should push God a little harder, maybe even enlist some help from others. But in the end, I thought it best not to test God, lest he test me. Five games in one day, all losses, was quite enough testing for one day.

Getting Older

Last month I turned 50. A milestone to some (a millstone to others!), but to me, it was just another birthday. The fact is that except for a few minor ailments, I don't feel much different than I did when I was 30. Most of my friends didn't believe I was 50 (bless them). They say I look much younger. Perhaps it is true that you're as young as you feel. I just changed jobs after 17+ years at the same place, and I am enjoying life now probably more than I ever have. So, I feel young, even though I now qualify for senior's discounts at some places.

I have spent a lot of time reflecting on my life, particularly on how 50 years went by so fast. I can think of quite a few reasons why life's been good to me. I'm reasonably healthy. I have a loving wife and no kids (but a dog and two cats), I am active in sports and have hobbies that occupy some of my leisure time, I have a family and lots of friends that I spend quality time with, I have good spiritual health, and I have a job I like. All in all I enjoy my life.

Do I have regrets? Sure, who doesn't? But I've learned not to dwell on the past and not to try and plan too much for the future. A bout with cancer taught me to live for today. In fact, dealing with cancer is the one thing that has most impacted my life recently. It made me thank God for my faith, and for the many friends and family, especially my wife, who helped me through that difficult time.

Do I have problems? Sure, who doesn't? But I don't worry about them like I used to. Wisdom does seem to increase with age, and worrying about things that cannot be changed or are easily dealt with is not wise.

So here I am, older, wiser and content. I look forward to what lies ahead. I survived the first 50 years so now I'm ready for anything.

The Pinata - a fun tradition (religious) gone bad

Pinatas have been around for hundreds of years. Originally, pinatas were made much like clay pots. The pots were decorated with ribbons and paint. The original pinatas had religious significance and represented three theological virtues. First, the blindfolded participant represented the leading force in defying evil, that is faith, which must be blind. Those surrounding this person called out advice, good and bad, to help the player hit the pinata. Second, the pinata served as a symbol of hope. With the pinata hanging above their heads, people looked towards the sky (heaven) eagerly awaiting the prize. The stick for breaking the pinata symbolized virtue, that is, good that can overcome evil. Once the pinata was broken, the candies and fruits represented the just reward for keeping the faith. And finally, the pinata symbolized charity as when it eventually broke, everyone shared in the blessings and gifts. The moral of the pinata: all are justified through faith.

Today's pinatas are usually made from paper mache and are used for any number of occasions, rarely religious. As one can imagine, paper mache does not break apart quite as easily as a clay pot, no matter how hard they are hit with the stick. Couple this with the fact that the pinata breakers are either children without sufficient strength to break the pinata, or drunken adults lacking sufficient coordination to even hit the pinata.

My most recent pinata experience was a bad one. An adult birthday party would seem to be a good occasion for a candy filled pinata. The problem was the seemingly indestructible pinata, and the large number of fruity drinks (yes, alcoholic) that the stick wielder and spectators had consumed. That pinata survived shots that would have made Mark McGwire proud. It was misshapen and disheveled, but still intact after about 20 minutes of good whacking. But then the thought occurred to me that maybe we needed to hit the stubborn pinata with something bigger. Since no bigger stick was available, I picked up the pinata and eyed the birthday boy's head. Visions of the WWE flashed through my mind as I hit Tom across the head with the pinata with a lot more force than I intended. Luckily, he was already sitting if I recall correctly. After the pinata shot, he was lying on the ground and somewhat groggy. But rejoice, the pinata had broken. After checking for a possible concussion, the party continued with more drinks and a lot of crushed and broken candy. Tom survived with nothing more than a bruise. Sorry about that!
Maybe we need to remind ourselves of the religious significance and the potential dangers of the party pinata.