Bordering

I think my children are tag teaming me this week. Each night one or the other calls which has the corollary effect of making everything seem brighter. My Cali-daughter called last night, ably assisted by the Wingman, just in time to save me from a severe ass chewing from my Favorite Panamanian about the photo I published yesterday covering her advance packing procedures.

Approaching Critical Mass

The Californiates had just returned from their latest pre-natal doctor’s visit and all the reports are positive. The First Blog Reader has passed the six pound barrier and continues to grow apace. The latest picture from my daughter illustrates just how close to critical mass she is approaching. The future grandmother was skipping/dancing after the prolonged talk about her impending grandchild and completely forgot about continuing my counseling session.

We went to see another movie last night, taking in Sicario. I was excited about this because it featured Emily Blunt and Benicio Del Toro, two of my favorite actors. I know this movie is getting a lot of love from the critics for its gritty look at the ongoing border war with Mexican drug cartels but I left with a sense of “ehhh”. I’m a firm believer that a movie should be entertaining even its trying to make a heavy handed “message”. The director forgot about the whole entertainment part. He’s obviously fallen in love with daring camera shots and long aerial views of terrain but there was a pretty good story hidden amongst all his posturing. It suffered from his lack of attention to it.

Blunt and especially Del Toro were excellent, if he doesn’t’ get an Oscar nod for this something’s wrong. This was marketed as an action filled thriller and it is certainly not that. It’s an eloquent comment on what evil can do to good people. If the director had stayed with that instead of trying to make a simultaneous anti-government rant about the drug war this movie would deserve all the critical praise it’s receiving.  The truly outrageous and unbelievable scenario he employs savages his credibility; but at least we got long loving looks at the barren Arizona desert to compensate. 

Transported

A rather mundane day yesterday, despite the singularly spectacular New England autumn weather – favorite time of the year, no contest. The mundanity was expunged with a phone call from my favorite son with the news he’ll be coming to visit us this weekend ahead of his mother’s impending departure to California to greet the First Blog Reader. It’s strange how just the sound of his voice is enough to raise morale significantly. What is it about kids, anyways?

The Trip is Still Weeks Away

Speaking of the impending departure, which is actually a couple weeks away, some people think I’m kidding when I talk about the extensive process my Favorite Panamanian employs when it comes to packing her suitcase(s) for any trip. I offer as evidence the obstacle I face every morning as I try to reach my closet. It’s been his way for over a week now as she contemplates and constantly revises her California requirements.

We have a new contender for best picture of the year. I went to see The Martian last night and it is everything you’ve been hearing about and more. Matt Damon carries the movie by force of understated personality; not an easy feat. He plays an astronaut stranded on Mars who faces impossible odds to survive. The camerawork and special effects are superb but this is a story of the human spirit, embodied by Damon’s heroic solitary struggle as well as the concurrent story back on earth and his fellow crew members on a ship in transit.

All too often movies take the easy way and demonize the politics or the inevitable infighting a disaster entails. Here the nobility of what man is capable of is explored, even lionized and not in a cheap, exploitive manner. It seems the current generation is being beaten down by the forces of political correctness bent on limitation but not here. Faced with life and death Damon’s character doesn’t bemoan his fate, he just gets to work. Maintaining the focus on the human level drawn on an epic sci fi canvas Ridley Scott delivers a true masterpiece. “Riveting” would vastly understate the last 45 minutes of this movie. Go see it!

Walk Among While I Can

I eked out an underserved win yesterday over my namesake nephew in fantasy football. He had a lot of late minute injuries to his team which should have beat my underperforming bunch handily and I caught him on the Patriot’s’ bye week with his lead QB (Saint Thomas Brady)sitting down. I think I’m the Peyton Manning of our family league. I build up all these meaningless wins during the regular season and then fold like a tent come playoff time. My sister and her assistant (brother in law) continue as this year’s league juggernaut, remaining undefeated.

The Book

We received a very nice surprise when I got home from work last night. A package was waiting on the door stoop. It was a long overdue but dazzling book of photos from the Best Weekend Ever Part 1 back in 2009 when the Cali-Daughter married the Wingman. With the impending arrival of the First Blog Reader my daughter finally got around to working her magic with an online publisher to produce it. My wife was cooing almost uncontrollably as we looked at the memories of that fantastic weekend again. Inspiring doesn’t begin to describe it.

Where Do I get Some of this Beer!!

My wife and I were talking this morning about how much faster life seems to move since we moved the Worcester. Since it was already moving at breakneck pace before the move I’m not sure this is a welcome development. I think it has something to do with the easier availability of virtually everything in the city and the attendant distractions that populate it. It’s a bit unwelcome because one of the definitive aspects of middle age is how much faster life seems to pass by, must be the downhill slope effect. Each morning when I go the Y to swim I see an old man looking back at me from the all too many mirrors despite the young (to my view) eyes doing the looking. What is it with all these mirrors, anyways? Feeling a bit curmudgeonly today.

I finished up my latest Matthew Scudder novel yesterday by the peerless Lawrence Block with A Walk Among the Tombstones. This is a landmark for me because it was the Liam Neeson movie of the same name that stimulated me to start the Scudder novels in the first place. While I liked the movie, I loved the book. It was different enough to keep me interested and, as is in 99% of cases, so much better than the movie. Block provides the usual rich texture of New York City with a lot of the action moved the Brooklyn this time out. My google map app was working overtime to keep up with the action.

Scudder is called in to assist a drug trafficker whose wife was abducted by a couple of truly evil losers. In the last couple of books Block has taken the malevolence of Scudder’s opponents to a whole new level, creating characters bound to keep me up at night.  Scudder takes the minutest of details and using what I’m starting to call “Scudder sense” figures out who these bozos are. When they abduct a young girl he sets up the exchange in a cemetery that serves as introduction to the Old Testament climax (so much better than the cinematic one). Block continues to populate Scudder’s life with memorable characters and sidekicks including the irresistible TJ, a black street kid and takes Scudder’s emotional involvement with his lady love, a hooker, to another level. As with all things Scudderian it’s not flashy, but solid, believable and heartfelt.  Here are some of Block’s words as Scudder tries to explain himself to his girlfriend:

“I didn’t know where I’m going with this,” I said. “But I figured I had to tell you how I felt, and what’s been going on with me. I love you. I know that’s a word we don’t speak, and one reason I have trouble with it is I don’t know what it means, it’s how I feel about you. Our relationship is important to me. In fact its importance is part of the problem, because I’ve been afraid it would change into something I won’t like that I’ve been withholding myself from you.” I stopped for breath. “I guess that’s it. I didn’t know I was going to say that much and I don’t know if it came out right, but I guess that’s it.”

She was looking at me. It was hard to meet her gaze. “You’re a very brave man,” she said.

“Oh please.”

“’Oh please’ You weren’t scared? I was scared and I wasn’t even talking.”

“Yes, I was scared.”

“That’s what brave is, doing what scares you. Walking into those guns at the cemetery must have been a piece of cake in comparison.”

“The funny thing is,” I said, “I wasn’t that fearful at the cemetery. One thought that came to me was that I’ve lived long enough so that I don’t have to worry about dying young.”

Zoned in

In a strange development, I had a weekend of complete rest. I hadn’t had one of these in a while and my wife became trapped (at least that was her story) in a local mall on Saturday so supervision at home was sorely lacking. I cannot remember the last time I was left completely to my own devices. The dreary rainy day contributed to my inclinations towards attaining a vegetative state. My wife “stopped by” the aforementioned mall after her hair appointment and the traffic backed up to a standstill. Instead of attempting the gridlock she went with one of her strengths – shopping. I could find nothing in yesterday’s newspaper about the reason for the traffic jam or if one even existed. Things that make you go “hmmmm?”

I love college football but rarely make time to sit down and watch it short of the final games of the season. I rectified that on Saturday as I proudly manned Couch Potato Position #1 which has been sadly neglected since the move to Worcester. I was switching between five separate games before settling on a couple. It’s so refreshing to see the game played where all the participants still care.

I'm told my alma mater had their homecoming this weekend. It’s testimony to their prowess at alumni communications that I didn’t know anything about it. The Pittsburgh college roommate texted me to ask if I was attending and I had to ask “which homecoming?” since we share high school as well as college. I’m going to blame my favorite son for this one as he is also a graduate of that fine institution and lives ten minutes from campus. I’m beginning to think he didn’t say anything because he was afraid we’d show up at his doorstep. (testing to see if he actually reads this thing)

"Action Shot" of the Red Zone Viewing

Sunday was definably the highlight of the weekend though. Since the Patriots weren’t playing my brother in law was available (he has to work when they do). This meant an opportunity to spend seven hours of commercial free football (their motto not mine) in the Red Zone with some of the finest people currently drawing breath. Keene Friend came down from New Hampshire while my sister, brother in law and his brother in law (with son) came up from Rhode Island. I think the consensus was the smaller living room was perfect for the mongoso sized television I own. My wife always made me set the couch far back in the old house, now we get up close and personal, almost like we’re in the game ourselves.

Everybody brought food and their usual sparkling personalities. My brother in law’s sister could not attend due to health concerns and fear of appearing in a photo published in this blog. She and I have a running gun battle about photos I’ve posted in the past. Her brother, always accommodating, provided this photo of her from a recent social gathering she attended. I’m not sure why she’s always angry with me about photos of her appearing here. I think she looks elegant here.

I cannot think of a better way to spend a day than to hang out with these people with the added bonus of the aforementioned commercial free football. Since everybody was part of a fantasy football league this led to some lively rooting for the oddest of combinations. We even checked in with the California variant of the league where Cali-Daughter and Wingman were also “zoning”. Wingman was locked in an epic battle with the Cantankerous One in this week’s edition of the game.

The Dinner Crowd

Somehow, with all the conviviality going on, my wife managed to create a superb steak dinner with all the trimmings. It was even timed to coincide with halftime of the 4pm games. I think she’s getting the hang of this whole NFL thing. Buddy was in seventh heaven with two of his favorite people in the whole world, sister and Keene Friend, in attendance along with all the semi-neglected food lying about. I could see the “low hanging fruit” look in his eyes. He was in constant motion and only had to be exiled to the basement on three different occasions, a new record for him.  

Buddy Waiting for Someone to Return

Sadly these type days seem to pass in the blink of an eye and these people have lives of their own to pursue so we had to say goodbye after the shortest seven hours I can honestly recall. Buddy was disconsolate to be left with only my wife and I and took up station by the front door hoping against hope someone would return. While I shared his hope I was less optimistic.

A Plane Flew With This Banner over the Cleveland Stadium Yesterday For the Entire Game

I had recorded the last Red Sox game of the year because it was also Don Orsillo’s last day as the Sox broadcaster. In a move that still boggles the mind he is being replaced after a season when he was one of the few enjoyable things about watching the Red Sox finish in last place again. As he’s done since the news broke he handled the game with his signature class although his partner Jerry Remy was obviously on the verge of tears. Don made a heartfelt thank you to the fans following the eighth inning which had a grizzled old fool like myself choking up. A telling gesture and one very eloquent as to his quality, the entire Red Sox team emerged from the dugout following the game and doffed their caps in Orsillo’s direction. This age-old baseball gesture spoke volumes to the esteem Don Orsillo earned with his fantastic work over the past fifteen years. Vaya con Dios Don, enjoy San Diego – there’ll be much fewer rain delays to fill out here. 

The Red Sox Gesture

Don's Response

Dreary Day – First Friday Rides to Rescue

Rain and cold descended on the region which totally belied the promise that each and every Friday usually portends. The warmest part of the day was at sunrise. My excellent boss did his part to alleviant the downturn in weather by stealing me away from the wife for lunch. He treated at Five Guys – never a bad option. This one is next to a rough area of Worcester and it offered the usual excellent people watching opportunities. There are some people that make you “Whooah!”.

I was trying to convince my favorite Panamanian to accompany me to First Friday celebrations but she was looking askance at the falling rain. I finally played the waitress card and reminded her of the preferential treatment she’d observed me receiving last week. That sealed the deal and of course we had a male waiter this time so next week will be tougher. She did score her usual Frozen Mudslide and generally lit up the room, as she is wont to do.

Mudslide in Hand - Lighting up the Room

I think the early morning swims are starting to take a toll because I was exhausted by end of our dinner out after Brew City. I could not keep my eyes open during the series finale of one of my favorite shows, Strikeback. Maybe the cosmos is sending me a message that I should start acting my age and trying to keep the hours of a twenty year old. If so I intend to ignore it. 

Again?

My thoughts and prayers are with the heartbroken Oregonians today as we deal with yet another senseless shooting. The breathless coverage by the news media is at least partially responsible. Unless this moron had some sort of political agenda (and even if he did) he was just another in the long line of losers who see this as a way to become famous. Their lives are so inconsequential and contemptible they view this as an opportunity for fame and the news media is only too happy to oblige. I’d like future coverage of these type tragedies (and we know there’ll be more until we can turn the corner on civilized gun culture) to focus solely on the victims and the heroes that each of these situations inevitably produce.

I know there’s a human need to try and understand the motivation for the scumbags who perpetrate these crimes but let’s keep their names and images out of the news. The next slope shouldered, cave-chested loser whose demented path in life leads him to consider doing this might be less inclined if he knew there was no notoriety to be gained. I liked the way President Obama responded. I know I can be less than generous with my praise for our benighted leader (that would be the Cantankerous Friend nodding sagely) but yesterday I caught a fleeting glimpse of the president he could have been. He was genuinely angry and let it show. He was genuine. He didn’t try to meet some sort of politically neutral stance but tried to be a leader (oh what might have been).

He’s absolutely right about us becoming too accustomed to this phenomenon. The NRA should be willing to modify their stance to allow greater regulation of weapon ownership. The complete refusal to consider even sensible restrictions flies in the face of insurmountable evidence. Mentally ill people do not have a “right” to access mass murdering gear. One of the prime reasons human society exists is for the governing bodies to protect the masses from the outliers; the defectives who cannot function in that society and require excision. They shouldn’t be allowed access to the means to take good people with them when they are excised. The more they refuse the dialogue the more evidence will mount until the society stands up and says, enough, and votes for a constitutional amendment that would be far worse than their worst nightmare. Enough!

What – October!

It seems completely implausible that it is already October. The balmy temperatures lately may have thrown off the ole internal clock or something but the tenth month snuck up on me in true ninja fashion. New England weather is doing its usual best to be utterly unpredictable as well. We had almost no rain in September until yesterday when I guess Someone finally noticed and issue the entire month’s worth in a couple of morning hours. Buddy was not pleased.

View Out my Office Yesterday

At least the recently installed Buddy blocks installed on our stored furniture in the basement proved effective. The dog just does not like rain. It was the first day I’ve missed the two car garage (wait until winter I keep telling self). With only one garage space you know whose car is kept there – the commanding officer’s. For someone from one of the rainiest countries on the planet you would think she would be more adept at handling precipitation. I think Buddy gets his fear of moisture from my Favorite Panamanian.

Trump at Keene High

At least the Red Sox are finishing the year watchable. They jettisoned the expensive dead weight they signed over the past winter and look like a completely different team, one that cares about winning. Of course it is all too late, with only four games left in the season but I did stay up late watching them last night as they took their third in a row from the hated Yankees in extra innings. The wholly unbelievable Trump campaign rolled into my hometown last night. It was a bit disconcerting to see him wandering the hallways of my old high school in news reports – who knew the movie Idiocracy could have been so predictive.

Our sainted president is getting his foreign policy ass handed to him again by his designated tormentor, Putin. While Obama has dithered and ineffectually addressed the problem of ISIS and Syria in general Putin blew into Damascus over the past few days in a fashion our politically correct/foreign policy challenged president should learn from. Putin didn’t worry about alienating potential allies or building a coalition of approval. He came in on the side of his ally, Assad, and effectively told the US to stay out of his way.

Go Ahead Keep Your Eyes Firmly Closed - Pay No Attention to my Latest Adventure

For public consumption he told the world he was bombing ISIS (everybody’s boogie man) but most of the air raids were against other rebel forces, some of which are US backed. Putin’s entry into the vacuum created by the Ditherer in Chief signaled the end of any chance of removing Assad from a post war Syria, the linchpin of Obama’s Syria policy (if we’re feeling generous enough to call it policy). At least it will give us a chance to assess Russian military competence. If the bombing videos chosen for airing by the Russian Defense Ministry are any indication they’re not very good and you would have to assume they chose only the very best for release. All indications are they’re going to get a lot of practice to improve. I’m sure a very strongly worded protest is being drafted at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave as I write this.

I'm Sure this Scared the Hell Out of the People in the Building They Were Aiming For