Entering Winter of Discontent

It’s not going to be any “son of York” that eventually relieves the period I’m entering into. That task belongs to a diminutive Panamanian lady. My Favorite Panamanian is finally winging her way to her homeland after a very restful day at the Logan Airport Hyatt courtesy of Copa Airlines. The PanaGal tried to convince her to grab a ride into Boston for the day but was thwarted by the frigid temperatures. This provided a very good indication of just how cold it was that my wife passed on a shot of additional shopping. It’s probably just as well as the usual cacophony of packing over the past few days left six suitcases straining at their hinges.

Wife at the Hyatt Yesterday

I was going to make one of my grand romantic gestures (YES, I am capable of that!) last night and drive into Boston to spend a couple hours with her. She vetoed the idea claiming she didn’t want to stress me out since I’d been up since 4am and had already driven back and forth to Boston once that day. She also claims it’s very hard to say goodbye to me (who knew?). She’d already done that once yesterday and didn’t want to go through the emotional baggage entailed again. She firmly stated that it had nothing to do with the planned hair washing and extended drying period she had planned. I’ll give her credit in that she stuck to her story. I miss her.

Which Means I Traded This

For This

So it’s back to just Buddy the Wonder Pooch and I for the next three months. He doesn’t seem too upset about the development as we both acknowledge who lays down the stricter set of household behavior rules. He brought up one of the remnants of his Christmas gifts (I think it used to be a stuffed bird) from the basement and completed the disembowelment process in the living room. I was left with what looked like an inch of snow after all the stuffing settled. I’ve purposely been holding back on watching movies that I bought to help fill the time. Those combined with a couple of gifted jigsaw puzzles are the first line of defense against the approaching ennui born of my wife’s absence. I’m sure a couple thunder runs up to my hometown to hang out with my high school friends will also be employed. Before all that I’ve got to figure out what’s going on with the old cranium. My CT scan is scheduled for Thursday night so hopefully that will rule out all of the more serious scenarios.

The Stack of Movies and Puzzles Awaiting Attention

President Obama made some bold steps in the gun control debate yesterday which of course set off the loons from both ends of that divisive debate. I worked all my adult life around firearms and have a healthy respect for their capacity. Given that respect, it’s hard to argue that we should not have a bona fide process to validate those who wish to own a weapon. What we currently have is certainly not working. If closing the gun show loophole helps I’m all for it. It seems to me the biggest issue we have is the mentally unwell’s access to guns. I know we have strict health privacy laws but it would make more sense to connect the information we have about a person’s mental health to the gun ownership approval process than trying to make that process work without that information.

I have a real problem with anyone who criticizes or lampoons Obama’s tears yesterday. I want to cry every time I think about those innocent kids gun downed in Newtown, Connecticut by someone with serious mental health issues (by the way). I would think anybody who doesn’t see the honest pain involved with a leader struggling to prevent something like that is morally bankrupt.

Since I was prohibited from driving into Boston last night I went with my signature move on Tuesday night (usually date night) and saw a movie. Point Break is a remake of the classic Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze movie of the early 1990s. While we still had FBI agent Johnny Utah versus the spiritual Bodhi, the plot (what there was of it) was completely different. The best reason to go see this movie on the big screen are the stunts, mainly involving extreme sports. I’m a pretty jaded movie goer but I was genuinely gasping as some of the views, especially during the surfing, wingsuit, snowboarding, and cliff climbing (see what I mean).

Given all the excitement that is expertly translated to the screen it was sad to see the characters lack the texture of the original. Pretty sad to say to an actor – “You’re no Keanu Reeves”, but I’ve always said Reeves was better than he ever receives credit for. The bromance that’s central to the plot lines in both movies is never exploited and both Teresa Palmer and Ray Winstone are criminally underused. Still, go see this movie on the big screen for the epic camera shots I described above.

Today's edition of Californian perfection: