Dated Again

A beautiful spring day yesterday (pay no attention to the predicted snow on Sunday) saw my returned wife’s first full day back at the helm. It was so cool to have someone to share meals with. One of the first things we discussed was the future and I mentioned that a house just down the street had gone up for sale. That sent her into a Zillow spiral that didn’t abate for the entire day. I think we’ve pretty much decided we like living in Worcester (who’d a thunk that!) so much we’re considering staying put – a novel concept in our marriage.

The return of my Favorite Panamanian also meant I had a date for date night. I think the ticket vendors at the local cinema were actually starting to categorize me as that lonely, old guy who goes to all these movies by himself. Those illusions were dashed last night as we went to see My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2. Some things are better left alone. The first movie was so funny as a frumpy Greek spinster finds love and fulfillment with a non-Greek escaping the trap of her very Greek family. The funniest moments in that movie were the reactions of the two cultures clashing. This one stays almost entirely in the family and is nowhere near as funny, except when Andrea Martin is on the screen.

Nia Vardolos’ script is painfully awkward at times, as if no one had the guts to tell her that some lines just didn’t work. While the father, Gus, was a great comic foil in the first go around, the increased focus on him this time makes him seem just like an unrepentant A-Hole. There are some laughs but it seemed there was a lot of comic fodder left unrealized. I’m still trying to understand the absurd John Stamos/Rita Wilson cameo shoe horned in for no apparent reason. I may too hard on this because I liked the first movie so much. I expected more.

On a much more positive note I finished yet another Joe Pickett novel yesterday, Below Zero by C.J. Box. Box continues his trend of getting better with each succeeding book. Joe is on the trail of a gangster, mid killing spree, who may or may not have Joe’s adopted daughter along for the ride. The daughter was thought dead in an earlier book and Joe fights personal recrimination until the truth is exposed. In a very neat move Box teams Joe up with his eldest daughter, Sheridan.

One of the very cool things about the Pickett series is the passage of time is not ignored. I first met Sheridan as a precocious seven year old and here she’s a seventeen year old woman. She’s along because the missing daughter will only text with her. It provides a very interesting backdrop as Joe confronts the march of instant media with the younger generation. That certainly hit a note with me. A thrilling conclusion, as always, with Reacher clone Nate Romanowski brought in at just the right time to reap murder and mayhem to keep Joe’s spirit clean. A great read.

Here are some of Box’s words from the novel as Joe observes Sheridan at a crime scene: “Joe assessed his daughter, who leaned against the door of the pickup pretending she wasn’t listening to every word. What he saw was a young woman who was lucid, calm, but worried. She’d never been out in the field on an investigation with him. All she knew were the results. She’d never been in the middle of a chaotic crime scene like this one with uniformed men cursing at each other and running around, the jockeying for status and position, the clash of jurisdictions among personnel from different agencies, the baseless speculation thrown around in regard to what might have happened. He wondered if she was questioning his acumen and clearly seeing his fallibility. Lord knows he was fallible. But he was her dad. He knew she always thought he had special abilities. Now, he thought, she’d know that he didn’t. That he could run around and speculate with the best of them.”