By now, I’m sure you’ve all heard the story about the woman aboard an American Airlines flight who lit a match on her plane to conceal a really smelly fart, thus forcing the plane to make an emergency landing.
The jokes write themselves, but one of my favorites was on Fox 25 this morning, and had to do with the price of gas going sky high.
Hee hee.
Anyway, if you haven’t yet heard the story, here’s a link.
I’ve always thought that if we took a holiday … just some time to celebrate … just one day out of life, that it would be so nice. Apparently, that’s what Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet thought, and so we have the movie The Holiday. Simply, this is a Chick Flick, with a capital C and F, and aside from the attractive leading ladies, there’s really not much redeeming about it for those with a bit more testosterone. You get all the holiday movie/chick flick cliches, including the scene where Cameron Diaz slips on the ice while wearing high heels, and the scene where she sings along (badly) to rock music. Hell, even Jack Black seems to have been neutered. Sure, Jude Law is as charming as ever, and it’s nice to see Kate Winslet lighten up for a change, and the movie isn’t sooo bad per se, but I probably could have skipped it. (And for the record, the “chick” I saw this with wasn’t exactly raving about it either.) The Holiday gets a B- from me.
First, the good news: This review will not be as long as the movie I’m reviewing.
Now, the bad news: I’m reviewing The Good Shepherd. And it’s not the great Oscar-contender I was hoping for. Instead, it’s a Very Serious Movie that is very long (i.e.: more than two-and-a-half hours long) and not really all that entertaining.
Matt Damon plays Edward Wilson, who is recruited to join the OSS (the precursor to the CIA) while still at Yale and a member of the secret society Skull and Bones. The film jumps back and forth in time to show how Edward’s committment to but uneasy feelings about the organization affect him and his family. No one can be trusted, loyalties aren’t what they seem, and paranoia is a must.
Sounds like a hell of a story. If only Damon’s performance wasn’t so wooden, and everything and everyone around him wasn’t so stiff. At one point someone describes Edward as “a serious S.O.B. without a sense of humor,” and that just about sums it up. Further, Damon doesn’t ever look a day over 28, despite aging 22 years over the course of the movie. And Angelina Jolie is not just miscast, but she’s underused. The whole thing is just a bit dry, and I actually thought about walking out a couple times because I just wasn’t involved and I knew I could be enjoying myself doing something else. (Not that it’s all bad; I quite enjoyed seeing Joe Pesci on screen again.) So in summary, The Good Shepherd gets a not-so-good C from me.
I got such a nice response to my posting about my grandmother’s passing last week (and first of all, thanks for that) so I thought I’d write a quick update/addendum. And then I’ll try to keep things on here a bit more upbeat. If there’s one thing Bubby would have wanted, it’s for me to be happy and not dwell on her passing for too long.
It has been an emotionally taxing few days. There was good (my family seems bonded now more than it’s ever been); and there was sadness (can’t remember when I cried as much). Sitting shiva was for me, overall, an enjoyable experience, but it was truly bi-polar: the highs were very high, and the lows were very low. At times it felt more like a party than a somber gathering, which many said was appropriate since we were supposed to be celebrating Bubby’s life. It still felt odd and a bit absurd.
I was one of four grandchildren (of seven, total, not including spouses) to give a eulogy at the funeral on Thursday, and apparently, it was so good it might have scored me a date — with someone else who apparently gave a nice eulogy at a funeral recently. One of our family friends thinks that makes us a match. (I can only imagine what I’ll say when I call her.) Oh, and she lives in New York (y’all know how I feel about dating people in Cambridge). Let’s just say I’m not expecting too much there.
These past few days, we got out a lot of old photos of Bubby and letters and stuff, and enjoyed looking through them and putting them out for others to see. And my cousins (and their spouses), aunts, parents, sister (and brother-in-law), and I laughed, bonded, sat around, and just talked … we ate, ate, and ate some more … we reminisced … and we really did have a very good time being together. My dad joked that if Bubby knew this would be the result of her passing, she would have died years ago. (Good that we could keep our sense of humor.)
Of course, the hardest part for me was when the house would get quiet again and the laughter stopped, and all of a sudden all there was to do was look at the pictures and realize why we were there. I’d look over and Bubby wouldn’t be there. I’d want to call her, and she wouldn’t be there. And most often, I’d just want to give her a hug, but there was no one to hug. It’s the silences that are the most painful still. Walking into my apartment Sunday night, I had to put on the radio softly while I ate dinner. And not surprisingly, it was very hard to leave New York Sunday afternoon. I’m actually kind of happy to be back at work today, if only for the constant noise and distraction.
When she died, Bubby was 91 years old. (At least that’s what we’re going to put on the gravestone; there’s some debate about her true age.) It was said multiple times this week that she had a good run: she traveled a lot, made it to my sister’s wedding just like she wanted to (not to mention the weddings of two of my cousins), got to see her whole family in the days before she passed away (minus my cousin who is in Hong Kong), was constantly surrounded by love, and died knowing she was going to be a great-grandmother (sorry, Stacey). Personally, I can say I have absolutely no regrets about my relationship with her, and I’m sure she is somewhere right now thankful for a life well-lived.
The pain of Bubby’s loss is still hard, but it’s comforting to know how close my family is now and how good my friends have been during this difficult time. I know I’ll continue to have my moments of sadness, but for Bubby I’ll be strong and will go on with my life, continuing to make her proud.
I appreciate that there is no good time for NStar to do its routine maintenance, but do they always have to do it in Brookline overnight on weekdays?
I mean, how many people have alarm clocks that are plugged into the wall? Doesn’t NStar realize that if they shut off the power overnight, however briefly, that all those alarm clocks are going to need to be reset, and hundreds of people may oversleep for work the next day? Continue reading
If you’re at all interested, just wanted to point out that my profile of Jennifer Hudson, which appears in the new issue of Continental, is now online. Jennifer, you may recall, was a finalist on American Idol a few years ago (the year Fantasia won), and she’s likely to be an Oscar-winner for her role in the new movie, Dreamgirls. I got to chat with her on the way up, which I thought was pretty cool.
Also in this issue is a story about the new show High Fidelity, which opens on Broadway this week (it’s based on the movie and book). You may recall I saw the show when it was in Boston a couple months back, and while I didn’t love it, I did think the music was good. Anyway, I hope the show does well regardless.
Martin's Musings 