It is a movie I'd been curious about from the first trailer that hit the airwaves - "Inglourious Basterds", written and directed by Quentin Tarantino and starring Brad Pitt. The trailers for the movie were characteristically indefinite, giving the would-be-movie goer a slight taste and tease for what the movie actually portends. My only impression what was Madison Avenue wanted me to see and the "rest of the story" was left to my imagination. At the time of its release in 2009, I was too timid to watch the movie, but over the past year, and inspired the the library rental fee of only $.25 cents, I gathered up my courage, stepped outside of my comfort zone and rented the movie.
Quentin Tarantino has a well-deserved reputation for being a master of suspense, second only, perhaps, to the venerable Alfred Hitchcock. Knowing a bit about Tarantino's "Kill Bill" movies, I wasn't eager to watch "Inglourious Basterds", but, as I said, my curiosity got the better of me.
What a fascinating movie. At once I was repelled, repulsed, yet riveted by Tarantino's ability to combine the macabre with a little comic relief, bound tightly together with a constant sense of impending doom, coupled with continuing brutality and violence. Tarantino does not disappoint, by the way. Yet, in the context of the movie, I found that I was troublingly (my word) comfortable with the violence, perhaps because of my knowledge of historical events. My ability to rationalize the human-to-human violence in "Inglourious Basterds" still bothers me but my discomfort is over-shadowed by my awe of what another human being can conjure up. Tarantino's imagination must never stop, nor sleep. Perhaps he doesn't sleep, either. I'd love to know what he was like in junior and senior high school.
The movie is ultra violent but if you want to see what all of the movie buzz was about and why the actor, Christoph Watlz received an Acdemy Award for Best Supporting Actor, then rent this movie. Just be prepared to spend the entire two hours and thirty-three minutes on the edge of your chair. This movie is not kid-friendly.
Ancora imparo
Monday, September 6, 2010
Labor Day Observations
My SO just asked me what I was going to do today and I replied, "As little as possible." He shot back, "But it's Labor Day. You know, LABOR day.....you know.... labor implies action." Thusly, I am in the process of creating the illusion of action by blogging.
So far, today, I have gleaned many important bits of information from watching CNN that I thought I'd share with you. Mind you, I do not like CNN but my SO likes the news-feed aspect of the channel and, I must say, the useful tips shared by the various reporters could be life-changing.
The financial advisor told the viewing audience, in a segment about rising credit card fees, that if you only charge, per month, what you can afford to pay off in that month you will avoid paying interest. Really?
Dublin, Georgia has passed an ordinance banning baggy, low-hanging pants. Guess it must be the sagging economy.
The rip tide currents off the coast of Florida are dangerous. Really?
In a video clip, a famous rapper is shown walking through a crowd of admirers, carrying (and partaking of) a large bottle of liquor. This person is known for having difficulty controlling what he says. Really? (For disclaimer purposes, I drew an inference that the bottle actually contains an alcoholic beverage and not water.) I'm really sure it is water.
To all who would read Ancora imparo on this day, labor not-too-hard. This day is to recognize the American labor movement, not to demonstrate the meaning of labor. Take it easy, get together with friends, read a good book, take a walk, hug your dog (or cat, if it will let you), take a nap, or simply sit quietly and meditate on the meaning of life.
In the meantime, I'll do as little as.......I can possibly get away with!
Ancora imparo
So far, today, I have gleaned many important bits of information from watching CNN that I thought I'd share with you. Mind you, I do not like CNN but my SO likes the news-feed aspect of the channel and, I must say, the useful tips shared by the various reporters could be life-changing.
The financial advisor told the viewing audience, in a segment about rising credit card fees, that if you only charge, per month, what you can afford to pay off in that month you will avoid paying interest. Really?
Dublin, Georgia has passed an ordinance banning baggy, low-hanging pants. Guess it must be the sagging economy.
The rip tide currents off the coast of Florida are dangerous. Really?
In a video clip, a famous rapper is shown walking through a crowd of admirers, carrying (and partaking of) a large bottle of liquor. This person is known for having difficulty controlling what he says. Really? (For disclaimer purposes, I drew an inference that the bottle actually contains an alcoholic beverage and not water.) I'm really sure it is water.
To all who would read Ancora imparo on this day, labor not-too-hard. This day is to recognize the American labor movement, not to demonstrate the meaning of labor. Take it easy, get together with friends, read a good book, take a walk, hug your dog (or cat, if it will let you), take a nap, or simply sit quietly and meditate on the meaning of life.
In the meantime, I'll do as little as.......I can possibly get away with!
Ancora imparo
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Shiver Me Timbers
Getting up is getting harder on my Aqua RV. With the much cooler nighttime temperatures, the interior temperature lowers accordingly and makes staying under the covers, head covered up, a cozy environment, difficult to leave. The water temperature is also dropping so the Aqua RV's wooden floors reflect that temperature change and make for cold feet, which was the topic of this blog yesterday.
However, staying in bed and conserving body warmth also gives more time to listen to the saccharin-style radio station that our clock radio is set to. The radio station's marketing theme is 'relaxing' music. Now 'relaxing' means many things to many people. Some would find this particular mix of music nauseating and would prefer radio fuzz rather than listen to one minute of Bobby Darin, Nat King Cole, Debby Reynolds, Bobby Vinton, and the like. I would describe my reaction to hearing 'relaxing' music as a combination of fascinated and irritated - usually simultaneously.
The music is mostly one genre - the old crooner tunes from the fifties and sixties. The music that my sisters probably 'spooned' to in the back seats of their boyfriends' Chevrolets. Occasionally I'll hear a tune from my junior high and early high school years and it does transport me to another place and time. Waaaaay back then, high schools hosted regular Friday night dances called 'mixers'. This was basically a cattle call where the single guys lined the gym, either seated or standing, and the girls paraded around and around, just waiting for 'that guy' to stop one of them and ask her to dance. Good grief, we even had dance cards, where girls would get guys to sign up for dancing with them on Dance Number One, Two, etc. The only people in the middle of the dance floor, shuffling about, dancing cheek-to-cheek, were the regular couples, the girl probably wearing the guy's school ring which would have been wound tightly with yarn, color-coordinated with the outfit she was wearing that evening.
Crooner music mostly brings back junior and high school love-angst and the awful feelings that only teen-aged 'romance' can produce. I do find myself chuckling, from time to time, when I hear a particular song and the memories it dredges up. Secretly, though, they were great times and I'd re-visit those days in a heartbeat.
Shivering, reminiscing. and chuckling. I'm going back to bed. My feet are cold.
Ancora imparo
However, staying in bed and conserving body warmth also gives more time to listen to the saccharin-style radio station that our clock radio is set to. The radio station's marketing theme is 'relaxing' music. Now 'relaxing' means many things to many people. Some would find this particular mix of music nauseating and would prefer radio fuzz rather than listen to one minute of Bobby Darin, Nat King Cole, Debby Reynolds, Bobby Vinton, and the like. I would describe my reaction to hearing 'relaxing' music as a combination of fascinated and irritated - usually simultaneously.
The music is mostly one genre - the old crooner tunes from the fifties and sixties. The music that my sisters probably 'spooned' to in the back seats of their boyfriends' Chevrolets. Occasionally I'll hear a tune from my junior high and early high school years and it does transport me to another place and time. Waaaaay back then, high schools hosted regular Friday night dances called 'mixers'. This was basically a cattle call where the single guys lined the gym, either seated or standing, and the girls paraded around and around, just waiting for 'that guy' to stop one of them and ask her to dance. Good grief, we even had dance cards, where girls would get guys to sign up for dancing with them on Dance Number One, Two, etc. The only people in the middle of the dance floor, shuffling about, dancing cheek-to-cheek, were the regular couples, the girl probably wearing the guy's school ring which would have been wound tightly with yarn, color-coordinated with the outfit she was wearing that evening.
Crooner music mostly brings back junior and high school love-angst and the awful feelings that only teen-aged 'romance' can produce. I do find myself chuckling, from time to time, when I hear a particular song and the memories it dredges up. Secretly, though, they were great times and I'd re-visit those days in a heartbeat.
Shivering, reminiscing. and chuckling. I'm going back to bed. My feet are cold.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Cold Feet
OK,it is early September, Labor Day weekend, and my bare feet are cold? What gives, Mother Nature? Granted, I've complained mightily about the heat and humidity that we Americans have endured, just having gone through the hottest summer on record, if I am not mistaken. I'm all for cooler temperatures and lower-to-no humidity, but to have cold,bare feet on Labor Day weekend is quite unusual.
Typically, when the children and teachers return to their classrooms at the end of August, the weather does its 'hat trick', the Dog Days of summer rear their over-heated head, and all are miserable. Given the mercurial nature of mid-West weather, the switch back from cold feet to hot feet will come over night, all too soon.
I'm holding out for real football weather, when the day temps are in the mid-to-low seventies or high sixties, there is nonexistent humidity, and the night skies are clear and chilly. Football weather. Sweater weather. Hooded-sweatshirt with blue jeans weather. Apple-cider doughnuts weather. Apple-picking weather. Pumpkin-patch weather. Crockpot-soup weather. Put-another-blanket-on-the-bed weather. Garden squash weather. A fire in the fireplace weather.
Our home-before-the-condo had two fireplaces and I so miss the ambiance that a lit fireplace projects. The crackle and spit of the logs as they burn, the mesmerizing effect of the flames, the urge to open a good book and read in a large, over-stuffed chair before the fire. Now I have to utilize Harold Hill's "Think Method" from the "Music Man" musical. I am relegated to envisioning a fireplace rather than experiencing a fireplace.
Back to the cold feet and reality. The time is late-afternoon, the wind is blustery at best, the rain is intermittent, my feet are cold and my bare legs are telling me it is time to lose the shorts and opt for long pants.
Can a hot cup of tea be far behind? Join me, won't you?
Ancora imparo
Typically, when the children and teachers return to their classrooms at the end of August, the weather does its 'hat trick', the Dog Days of summer rear their over-heated head, and all are miserable. Given the mercurial nature of mid-West weather, the switch back from cold feet to hot feet will come over night, all too soon.
I'm holding out for real football weather, when the day temps are in the mid-to-low seventies or high sixties, there is nonexistent humidity, and the night skies are clear and chilly. Football weather. Sweater weather. Hooded-sweatshirt with blue jeans weather. Apple-cider doughnuts weather. Apple-picking weather. Pumpkin-patch weather. Crockpot-soup weather. Put-another-blanket-on-the-bed weather. Garden squash weather. A fire in the fireplace weather.
Our home-before-the-condo had two fireplaces and I so miss the ambiance that a lit fireplace projects. The crackle and spit of the logs as they burn, the mesmerizing effect of the flames, the urge to open a good book and read in a large, over-stuffed chair before the fire. Now I have to utilize Harold Hill's "Think Method" from the "Music Man" musical. I am relegated to envisioning a fireplace rather than experiencing a fireplace.
Back to the cold feet and reality. The time is late-afternoon, the wind is blustery at best, the rain is intermittent, my feet are cold and my bare legs are telling me it is time to lose the shorts and opt for long pants.
Can a hot cup of tea be far behind? Join me, won't you?
Ancora imparo
Friday, September 3, 2010
If Only.......
As previously stated, this posting was going to be about the phrase, "If I Only Had The Time". After much reflection and thought, I decided that the more appropriate wording, for me, was "If Only......." I have a long list of If only's, which is also concerning to me - about me - because I do not wish to exist in a state of "If only", but I find it challenging to avoid.
Do you ever think "If only...."?
I am not referring to the maudlin, hand-wringing, choke-sobbing-sniffling kind of "If only....", more the kind of hit-your-head, "Gee, I should have had a V-8" type of realization.
For instance:
Ah, but there are no guarantees, are there?
Ancora imparo
Do you ever think "If only...."?
I am not referring to the maudlin, hand-wringing, choke-sobbing-sniffling kind of "If only....", more the kind of hit-your-head, "Gee, I should have had a V-8" type of realization.
For instance:
- If only I'd gotten up when the alarm went off.
- If only I hadn't eaten that second helping of potatoes and gravy.
- If only I lived one hour closer to the Three Musketeers.
- If only I hadn't waited two more seconds to jump on to the boat.
- If only I had started growing out my bangs one year earlier.
- If only I were three inches taller.
- If only I had installed granite countertops.
- If I only could have landed that big small-mouth bass.
- If I only could remember the phone number.
- If only I could talk him into a dog.
Ah, but there are no guarantees, are there?
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Gaggles' Gibberish
So I fibbed. I said my next posting would be about "If I Only Had The Time", but the enormous gaggle of geese assembled not more than one-hundred feet off the stern of our Aqua RV has inspired me to chronicle what I am hearing and seeing. Since my last posting was about listening and motor mouths, allow me to describe what Capt. SO and I have been experiencing since today's dawning.
I'll estimate that the number of geese assembled in the open, channel-waters behind our Aqua RV has fluctuated between one to three hundred Canadian Geese. If you are not familiar with Canadian Geese, they are not shy about expressing their thoughts and feelings to fellow geese and any other living creatures or inert objects, for that matter. The honking has been non-stop. Geese are the ultimate motor-mouths. Occasionally it seems that one goose will honk at a time, then suddenly a chorus of geese gibberish will erupt, sounding like the first choir rehearsal of George Frederick Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus". How I would love to know what geese dialogues are playing out.
It is clear that geese do not appreciate the presence of seagulls. If a seagull comes near or has the nerve to land among the geese, the ensuing complaint level can be ear-splitting and the seagull usually takes flight immediately. From time to time a really irritating seagull will calmly float a bit, as if trying to annoy the geese. Ultimately the gull gives in to the heckling honking and takes off. Ducks do not appear to have the same affect on the geese and are able to peaceably float with their fellow feathered-friends.
Canadian Geese are a protected species here and, I suspect, everywhere. They are considered nuisance creatures when they congregate on land because they are prolific poopers and they care not where their poop piles up, and pile up, it does. Owners of cottages and homes that are located on the waterfront go to great lengths to discourage the geese from assembling on their property, utilizing every imaginative prop known to mankind to drive the geese 'somewhere else'. Thusly, I can appreciate the geese from my vantage point because they are not on the docks.......yet. When the piles of poop, that resemble falafel when stepped on (I have personal experience with this.), begin decorating the docks, the geese will become unwelcome visitors and will have to be shooed off.....no easy task as goose-leaders tend to become highly aggressive when annoyed.
May your day be goose-free, with the exception of seeing the impressive geese formations as they fly through the sky. I will enjoy my goose-visage from a closer perspective......until the falafel appears.
Ancora imparo
I'll estimate that the number of geese assembled in the open, channel-waters behind our Aqua RV has fluctuated between one to three hundred Canadian Geese. If you are not familiar with Canadian Geese, they are not shy about expressing their thoughts and feelings to fellow geese and any other living creatures or inert objects, for that matter. The honking has been non-stop. Geese are the ultimate motor-mouths. Occasionally it seems that one goose will honk at a time, then suddenly a chorus of geese gibberish will erupt, sounding like the first choir rehearsal of George Frederick Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus". How I would love to know what geese dialogues are playing out.
It is clear that geese do not appreciate the presence of seagulls. If a seagull comes near or has the nerve to land among the geese, the ensuing complaint level can be ear-splitting and the seagull usually takes flight immediately. From time to time a really irritating seagull will calmly float a bit, as if trying to annoy the geese. Ultimately the gull gives in to the heckling honking and takes off. Ducks do not appear to have the same affect on the geese and are able to peaceably float with their fellow feathered-friends.
Canadian Geese are a protected species here and, I suspect, everywhere. They are considered nuisance creatures when they congregate on land because they are prolific poopers and they care not where their poop piles up, and pile up, it does. Owners of cottages and homes that are located on the waterfront go to great lengths to discourage the geese from assembling on their property, utilizing every imaginative prop known to mankind to drive the geese 'somewhere else'. Thusly, I can appreciate the geese from my vantage point because they are not on the docks.......yet. When the piles of poop, that resemble falafel when stepped on (I have personal experience with this.), begin decorating the docks, the geese will become unwelcome visitors and will have to be shooed off.....no easy task as goose-leaders tend to become highly aggressive when annoyed.
May your day be goose-free, with the exception of seeing the impressive geese formations as they fly through the sky. I will enjoy my goose-visage from a closer perspective......until the falafel appears.
Ancora imparo
Do They Ever Take A Breath?
OK, so I listen a lot. Yes, I can also talk a lot but there are occasions, depending on the people assembled, when getting the proverbial 'word in edgewise', just is not going to happen. I'm certain I have been guilty of that which I am about to write and so I apologize right here and now for the bad habit of 'never taking a breath' in conversation.
Some humans seem incapable of taking a breath when they talk. It makes me think they would be or would have been mighty fine musicians - either vocalists or instrumentalists - because the phrases they could have played or sung on one breath would have been incredible. I used to be frustrated by these non-breathing people. Now, I am resigned to their presence on this earth. If I know them really, really well I'll ask "Are you going to take a breath any time soon?" I do not recommend this question be asked very frequently. It does not elicit a favorable response, as a rule, but it does interrupt the person's soliloquy just long enough to get an edgewise-word interjected into the one-way conversation.
When I was teaching, students would refer to fellow student who never stopped talking as 'motor-mouths'. I never thought too much about this moniker however, upon reflection, there is kind of a funny connection.
But......being around motor-mouths does afford the opportunity to simply listen. Listening has become a favorite past-time of mine. When one is actively listening it is natural to smile, laugh, nod and otherwise indicate, through body language, that you are fully engaged in the one-way conversation. Both parties win in this situation and it is fascinating to really 'hear' what the other person is saying. Many of the topics posted in this blog come from listening to what others have to say. In fact, my next posting will revolve around a phrase I heard more than once yesterday, "If I had the time....."
Wouldn't it be the ultimate experience to be in a room full of people who all had the idea to listen instead of talk? The silence would be deafening. Those assembled might very well burst into laughter after realizing what was happening. Imagine the explosion of conversation that would ensue!
It is time for this electronic motor-mouth to stop typing.
I am taking a breath. Someone else can have a turn to speak now.
Ancora imparo
Some humans seem incapable of taking a breath when they talk. It makes me think they would be or would have been mighty fine musicians - either vocalists or instrumentalists - because the phrases they could have played or sung on one breath would have been incredible. I used to be frustrated by these non-breathing people. Now, I am resigned to their presence on this earth. If I know them really, really well I'll ask "Are you going to take a breath any time soon?" I do not recommend this question be asked very frequently. It does not elicit a favorable response, as a rule, but it does interrupt the person's soliloquy just long enough to get an edgewise-word interjected into the one-way conversation.
When I was teaching, students would refer to fellow student who never stopped talking as 'motor-mouths'. I never thought too much about this moniker however, upon reflection, there is kind of a funny connection.
But......being around motor-mouths does afford the opportunity to simply listen. Listening has become a favorite past-time of mine. When one is actively listening it is natural to smile, laugh, nod and otherwise indicate, through body language, that you are fully engaged in the one-way conversation. Both parties win in this situation and it is fascinating to really 'hear' what the other person is saying. Many of the topics posted in this blog come from listening to what others have to say. In fact, my next posting will revolve around a phrase I heard more than once yesterday, "If I had the time....."
Wouldn't it be the ultimate experience to be in a room full of people who all had the idea to listen instead of talk? The silence would be deafening. Those assembled might very well burst into laughter after realizing what was happening. Imagine the explosion of conversation that would ensue!
It is time for this electronic motor-mouth to stop typing.
I am taking a breath. Someone else can have a turn to speak now.
Ancora imparo
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