Emeritus

This year I gave up my position as co-coach of the girls basketball team at our school. There was no animosity involved; it was really just my realization that 15 years was enough and the fact that I wanted to do other things with that time, like the Tolerance Club and the Literary Magazine.

Still, it's an odd sensation to watch the games from the other side of the court. I know all the players, not to mention the plays. I like to imagine that I am helpful in some way, calling out encouragement and guidance in a familiar voice from a place where perhaps the coach's voice is too faint for the girls to hear. And I am still very disappointed when they lose, because I know they are so much better than that.

Re-thinking My Routine

When I sit down to write I always check my email first (all three accounts) and then facebook and my iGoogle page. Who knows what inspiration lies in those places? Well, to be honest, I actually have a fair idea, and it's usually not much. Still, I persist in my habits, despite my limited time and the other demands on it.

This morning on the radio I heard that it was Norman Mailer's birthday; he would have been 88. I think the only thing I ever read by him was The Executioner's Song back when I was in college. I don't remember what drew me to the story of Gary Gilmore, but I do remember that it was his girlfriend, Nicole, who was the most compelling character in the book, that and the whole "Let's do it!" thing.

But I wasn't thinking of any of that this morning when I heard Garrison Keillor read this quotation of Mailer's:

I used to have a little studio in Brooklyn, a couple of blocks from my house — no telephone, not much else. The only thing I ever did there was work. It was perfect. I was like a draft horse with a conditioned reflex. I came in ready to sit at my desk. No television, no way to call out. Didn't want to be tempted.

No, hearing those particular words, I was simply struck by the wisdom of the writer. Happy Birthday, Mr. Mailer.

Exceptional

To regular readers of WtD it is not news that I see a lot of movies. I like going to the movies, and I'm really not that picky about the films themselves. It takes a lot to make me dislike a movie.

Having said that, it also takes a lot to make me love a movie. It seems the older I get, the harder I am to impress; movies don't seem as thrilling and as moving and as completely involving as they did when I was younger. I'm not sure what that is about, but most of the time, I leave the theater with a half smile and a that-was-okay shrug, ready to get on with my business. I confess that it is always a little disappointing when the unspoken promise of the darkened house lights is undelivered and a movie does no more than simply entertain me for a couple of hours, but I manage.

Today was an exception. We saw Biutiful with Javier Bardem, and it was completely gratifying to me-- I loved it. In an interview with NPR, the director, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, explains that the film is a tragedy and defends its darkness:

...tragedy has some rules and those rules is about somebody who will be hit by destiny in every angle.
And while he is falling down, free-fall, how this character, with dignity, will find a way to redeem himself, to find light, to find a verticality in his existence and put everything together. That's what tragedy's about. And this film is that. It's an exercise. From "Medea" to "King Lear," to "Macbeth," it's just that this guy is not a king.

Don't be put off by the bleak premise. Biutiful is a smart, empathetic movie that addresses desperation and morality in the world today, and Javier Bardem's performance is stunning.

Ten Out of Ten

We saw the last of the best picture nominees this afternoon. Our viewing quest actually started last June, when we went to Toy Story 3, and  I blubbered my way through the entire film. Then in early July, we saw Winter's Bone, and you can bet I'm still patting myself on the back for calling that one. Like many people, we saw Inception last summer, too, and we also saw The Kids Are All Right, which I did not enjoy.

We went to The Social Network right after Thanksgiving and True Grit and The Fighter over Christmas. I can't believe I didn't blog about the girl-on-girl stuff in Black Swan when we saw it on New Years, but The King's Speech was on my mind on January 2.

So, when the nominations were announced last Tuesday, it turned out that we only had one movie to see of the ten nominated for Best Picture. It was 127 Hours, and I confess that I had been avoiding it. I got a little graveyard chill and my arm tingled anytime I even considered spending 93 minutes watching that gruesome story unwind.

But with 100% completion so close to my grasp, I laid my eight dollars down and braced for the worst. It was excruciating in places, but not at all what I expected. The director, Danny Boyle's last film was Slum Dog Millionaire, and his depiction on life-or-death adversity in this movie was a compliment to his earlier work. He uses montage, music, and intense sensory images to convey the harshness, but also the beauty, of the situations his characters must rise above.

Don't get me wrong-- I didn't really enjoy 127 Hours, but I guess I do appreciate being pushed out of my comfort zone-- it gives me stuff to think about, for sure-- so maybe you could say I did like it.

By that reasoning alone, I'm glad I saw each of the 10 movies which have been recognized this year.

Plus that's all of them! Ha!

Idiot Box

A couple of snow days and a new TV have combined to create a situation where I have watched too much television today. A bank robber shot dead, a young actor badgered into removing his shirt, the Kardashians, and Charlie Sheen dominated the day. I know better, but I guess I needed a reminder.

No TV tomorrow.

One More Science Fair Story

So before the weather refused to cooperate yesterday, our students were busy preparing to defend their science fair projects and answer the questions of the three random adults who were there to judge them. They worked in pairs and quizzed each other, starting with the basics and moving on from there, with varying degrees of success and confidence. As they practiced, I circulated, listening and making suggestions here and there. Eventually I got to one pair of boys. "What's your hypothesis?" asked the first.

"What is a hypothesis again?" asked his partner in return.

"You know-- your idea about what will happen," said the first.

"Oh yeah! My hypothesis is that I am going to rock this science fair!"

Now that's confidence.

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

Six hundred science fair boards filled our cavernous field house. A few finishing touches were being put on a few last-minute displays, and everywhere, kids rehearsed answers to the judging questions. Clipboards, badges, guidelines, and refreshments were prepared for the 150 volunteers coming to help judge, when...

Our school was informed we would be closing two hours early for the winter weather on its way. We had 90 minutes to feed everyone lunch and get those display boards back to the correct science teacher. Yes. It. Was. Chaos.

Many of the surrounding school systems were either delayed or closed today, because of sleet this morning and fair warning as to how the storm would develop; if we had been, too, the fair would have been automatically postponed to the snow date, sparing many folks a lot of inconvenience. As it is, we're going to do it all again next Wednesday, which just happens to be... Groundhog Day!

(Cue I've Got You Babe to play us out.)