Apparently, our current Halloween festival is a leftover combination of a Celtic/Christian holiday. Who knew?
Now college freshman just use it as an excuse to dress up in skanky outfits. Why do I know this? I know this, because I was standing around at the campus last night waiting for K to come and pick me up, and the froshies were parading past me on their way to party after party.
At five minutes to 3:00 yesterday afternoon, my train rolled into the Amtrak station in downtown St. Louis. I was returning from a very short (read: less than 24-hour) trip to Chicago to have dinner. "Wait, what? You went to Chicago to have dinner?" Yes, indeed I did.
L and his parents were there for a few days, and invited me to dinner with them. My first thought: "That's crazy, I'm not going all the way to Chicago to have dinner." My next thought: "Why don't I go to Chicago for dinner? I'm in a position that I can do that, so might as well take advantage of it!"
I opted, against the odds, to take the train. Less stressful than flying or driving, and I wanted to nap and/or get caught up on some reading. I did more napping than reading, but no big deal. The amazing thing, though, was that the trains were dead on! We were supposed to arrive in Chi-town yesterday at 12:20, and we pulled into Union Station at 12:20. No joke. And today, despite a minor delay "due to some freight traffic ahead," we arrived a tad early. Fantastic!
Dinner was at Benny's Chop House, and was quite lovely. I started with the Belgian endive salad, which I would mostly recommend for the cheese that came on it. Dinner was a ribeye (my favorite cut!) cooked to perfection (medium rare) and a side of tri-color carrots (orange, red, and white). Don't see anything but orange carrots most places, so I was excited about that. No purple carrots, however - a little disappointing. L got a side of these little sweet potato patties, and they were delightful, especially the brown sugar sauce that they were sitting in.
We went back to the hotel for dessert, which was a Grand Marnier souffle and a bottle of champagne. How positively celebratory! L and I headed back out to a bar for a little while, and I was up far later than I should have been. (Oh, did I mention I almost slept through dinner? During the time that I was supposed to be getting ready, I instead passed out and nearly missed our departure time!)
Today's obsession actually started because I was listening to the Rosanne Cash CD The List (which is amazing and will probably someday appear on this blog). On that CD, Bruce and Rosanne do a duet called "Sea of Heartbreak" (which is a fantastic song in its own right, and has been done by many artists).
Anywho, I was thinking about how great Bruce's voice is - that rough, gravelly, tough-guy thing. Love. It. I am dying to see him live, but haven't had the good luck yet.
Every single one of those videos is worth watching (or at least listening to in the background). Perhaps against logic, I opted to post one of his more recent rocker-style songs. Everyone knows (and loves!) the old ones, so I'm giving something else a chance. "Radio Nowhere" - a song about what you want from music and life:
I was tryin' to find my way home,
But all I heard was a drone, Bouncin' off a satellite,
Crushing the last lone American night.
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
I was sittin' round a dirt dial,
Just another lost number in a file, Dancin' down a dark hole,
Just searchin' for a world with some soul.
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
Is there anybody alive out there?
I just want to hear some rhythm,
I just want to hear some rhythm,
I just want to hear some rhythm,
I just want to hear some rhythm.
I want a thousand guitars,
I want pounding drums,
I want a million different voices speaking in tongues.
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
Is there anybody alive out there?
I was drivin' through the misty rain,
Just searchin' for a mystery train, Boppin' through the wild blue, Tryin' to make a connection with you.
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere,
Is there anybody alive out there?
Is there anybody alive out there?
I just want to feel some rhythm,
I just want to feel some rhythm,
I just want to feel your rhythm,
I just want to feel your rhythm,
I just want to feel your rhythm,
I just want to feel your rhythm,
I just want to feel your rhythm,
I just want to feel your rhythm.
Touching Evil is a British television series which ran from 1997 to 1999. I heard about it recently - read a good review - and thought I should check it out. It's a serial crime drama about a cop working in an elite investigations division, solving crimes and trying to beat the clock.
Sounds like any other crime-solvers series? It is a bit like other ones. But that doesn't make it not good. Well acted, compelling stories. What makes it different is that the episodes that are not (based on the ones I've seen) always emotionally satisfying. Sometimes the bad guy doesn't get it the way you think he should. Sometimes the personal lives of the good guys get mixed up in the mess. And somehow, this seems quite appropriate for a rainy gray British crime show.
If given a choice of one of the pair, I usually lean towards pessimism - a fact which does very little to explain why I love calendars. And I'm talking about paper calendars here, specifically wall and desk calendars.
I love them for all the opportunities they present. When you buy a new calendar, it is full of 365 totally blank slate days. Then you start to fill them up with the things you have planned. Usually the first things I put on a new calendar are birthdays. Then go the things which are usually planned pretty far in advance, like vacations and family events. Then go the rest of those life responsibilities, and even though some of them aren't so fun, they don't spoil everything.
I love calendars because you can look ahead as far as you want and see what's coming.
I love calendars because they have pretty pictures, and I don't care that what I just said makes me sound like I'm four years old. They do have pretty pictures: London, Van Gogh, vintage posters, the Irish countryside, New York City. Pretty much whatever you're interested in, you can find a calendar for. And that's awesome.
The last few days have been total insanity. There is too much to even remember it all. But lets start with K.
She came out to the lake to help me out with some stuff yesterday. She was in one of the motor boats, and I was in another one. Then all the sudden I hear "Ow, my knee, my knee!" And I look over there, and she's gone! I didn't hear her fall into the water, so for a moment, I am terribly confused. Then, like a scene from a horror movie, a hand comes up and grabs onto the edge of one of the boats. I run over to where K is on the ground, rolling around on the gravel and saying "Ow, it hurts!" Turns out that she had tried to step out of the boat, but the gravel slid out from under her foot and she twisted her recently-recovered knee. She had at least enough sense to notice, while rolling around on the ground in pain, that there were spiders crawling around all over the place. But she was in so much pain that she didn't even care!
We spent the rest of the day doing family-related activities, including a photo shoot (thanks to Uncle P) and a lovely dinner in celebration of my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary! Dinner consisted of crudites (including crab cakes, a beet/goat cheese/blood orange sampler, tempura shrimp, and steak tartare), a trio of soups (gouda and wild mushroom, pheasant consumme, tomato gin), a salmon filet/venison chop entree, and berry cobbler with Tahitian vanilla ice cream. Delightful! Breakfast this morning was another family event which involved quite a buffet spread as well!
D and I went for a bike ride this afternoon. We went to Castlewood State Park, and rode a combination of the Stinging Nettle, Al Foster, and Cedar Bluffs trails. Yes, I took another spill. This time it was quite amusing, although it had nothing to do with spiders. We had gotten stopped on an uphill, on which it is quite challenging to get going again. We were riding across this particular hill, so standing on the trail, the hill slanted down to the right. I had my left foot clipped in, and my right foot on the ground on the uphill side of the trail. As I pushed off to try to get moving again, I leaned a little too far to the right, and just tumbled over, down the hill. As did my bike, which somehow came to a stop resting upside down on its seat and handle bars! Awesome!
That's all I have the energy to write about right now. There's lots more I could say about this weekend, but it's just not going to happen.
The link above is to the regular music video. The video below is a Gray's Anatomy mash-up. I am not a Gray's watcher - I've seen maybe a grand total of one episode - but I actually really like that version of the video. I originally downloaded it on iTunes about 3-1/2 years ago, and have loved it ever since. I especially like the part near the end where she screams so loud that her voice cracks.
All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am.
But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to It's true, I was made for you.
I climbed across the mountaintops Swam all across the ocean blue I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules And baby I broke them all for you.
Oh, because even when I was flat broke You made me feel like a million bucks You do, I was made for you.
You see the smile that's on my mouth It's hiding the words that don't come out All of our friends who think that I'm blessed They don't know why it is a mess.
No, they don't know who I really am And they don't know what I've been through Like you do, and I was made for you.
All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am.
Oh, but these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to It's true, I was made for you.
Oh yeah, well, it's true, that I was made for you.
The Messenger is the painfully sad, hopeful, complicated, confusing story of two very different soldiers who, because fortune has frowned upon them, have received assignment as Casuatly Notification Officers. They tell the next-of-kin that "The Secretary of the Army regrets to inform you that your son/husband/daughter was killed."
Woody Harrelson plays Captain Tony Stone. He's been in the CNO business for a while, and it's not helping him recover from his alcohol problem. Sargent Will Montgomery (played by Ben Foster) is new to the business of death notification. He's trying to learn the ropes from Captain Stone while dealing with his own literal and figurative scars.
Both men act their roles beautifully. They are tough and strong, but also damaged and starting to crack. The emotions of the men are restrained, as is the film portrayal of their misadventures. They talk, but don't say too much. They get to be friends, in that way that men do, but they're not too close. Then there's Montgomery's ex, who moved on to someone else while Will was in Iraq. He's not quite ready to let her go, and she's too nice (or too cruel?) to cut him out of her life.
The most complicated emotional confrontation is between Sargent Montgomery and the widow he just notified of her husband's death (played by Samantha Morton). They are drawn to each other, even though they know they shouldn't be. They try to be friends, lovers, even though it feels wrong. Or does it? You feel a little sick yourself watching it, but at the same time, you know why they want to be together. They're both, from their own perspectives, going through the same experience. They understand each other. But that explanation somehow doesn't make their relationship any less confusing.
Bottom line: great portrayal of complicated emotional and psychological issues. From a male perspective. Which is rare.
Guess what I did for the first time in years (a decade, at least!) today....
Give up?
I went mountain biking! T and I had to get out of the house for a couple hours, we we headed out to the Lost Valley Trail. So to say "mountain" is not totally accurate. But that's beside the point.
What I learned is this: apparently the phrase "just like ridin' a bike" doesn't apply to me. I fell down. I blame it on the rock that I hit. I seem to be good at that. There can be 6 perfectly flat and level inches of dirt on either side of a rock in the trail, but I'll hit the rock. Every time.
But really, with just one spill after a decade out of the saddle, I think it went well. And T made it through a tough stretch he hadn't done before! A good day all around, and a fun (and healthy, unless you count the dirt-encrusted open wounds) way to kill an afternoon.
Okay, the truth is I'm not so much loving it as it's been stuck in my head ever since I saw the movie. I'm hoping that if I can get it stuck in your head, it will leave mine alone. So watch the video!
The link above has Italian subtitles and spoken word, but was the highest-quality clip from the movie I could find. The video below is in English, but is a montage of pics of Howard Keel, not the scene from the movie:
Bless your beautiful hide Wherever you may be. We ain't met yet But I'm a willin' to bet You're the gal for me.
Bless your beautiful hide You're just as good as lost. I don't know your name But I'm a-stakin' my claim Lest your eyes is crossed.
Oh, I'd swap my gun 'n' I'd swap my mule Tho' whoever took it would be one big fool. Or pay your way through cookin' school. If 'n you would say I do.
Bless your beautiful hide Prepare to bend your knee. And take that vow Cause I'm a-tellin' you now, You're the gal for me.
Pretty and trim but kinda slim. Heavenly eyes but oh that size, She's gotta be right to be the bride for me.
Bless your beautiful hide Wherever you may be.
Pretty and trim but not too slim. Heavenly eyes of just the right size, Simple and sweet and sassy as can be.
This morning I slept through practice for the first time since I started coaching :-(
Typically, I set two alarm clocks for about 4:45, get up about 10 minutes later, and am out the door by 5:15. Not today.
I'm trying to get through this book I'm reading, which I'm accomplishing very slowly. I can get through about 3 pages a night before I fall asleep. I was reading last night and fell asleep without turning on my alarms. My bad.
I woke up and noticed there was some light coming through the blinds. Weird. I looked at the clock. 6:51. Weirder. I should be at practice right now. Maybe it's all just a dream and if I stay in bed and go back to sleep, my alarm will go off in 10 minutes.
Sadly, not. So if anyone is up at 5:00 in the morning and wants to call me and just make sure I'm awake, that would be appreciated.
Ahh, nothing like an old classic to teach girls how to be a wife. Cooking, cleaning, having a "beautiful hide," and "lots o' book learnin'" - those apparently are the skills and attributes I need to acquire.
Seriously, this movie has lots of contrived singing and dancing and is quite amusing. It starts out when Adam goes to town looking for a wife - and he finds one. Milly marries him and moves with him up to his cabin in the woods, only to discover that he lives there with his six brothers (Benjamin, Caleb, Daniel, Ephraim, Frank, and Gideon). Milly whips the boys into shape, and takes them to town for a barn raising when they are sufficiently dignified. They fall in love with six girls from town; in a misguided effort to win them over, the brothers go to town and kidnap the girls for the winter. Epic fail. Milly is angry, the boys have to live in the barn, and the townspeople are spittin' mad. But as it always does in old musicals, everything works out in the end.
Bottom line: an awesomely funny and melodic reminder of what we girls no longer have to deal with.
A few weeks ago, Joe Klein wrote an editorial in Time Magazine. The big idea wasn't new, but it's always intriguing - perhaps because it rarely actually happens. The idea is deliberative democracy, and it goes all the way back to ancient Athens. The kleroterion, he explains, was like a giant lottery ball picker-outer, and all the eligible citizens (free males, in Athens' case) had a lottery ball in the pot. Every day, several hundred lottery balls would be selected, and it would be the task of those men to make major decisions for the people of their city.
And what's more, it's happening even now! In Zeguo, China, 175 people are selected every year to make decisions for the district. They represent a cross-section of the society (60% of them are farmers). The procedure goes something like this: they are polled on their opinions on issues; they get briefed by disagreeing experts; they meet in small groups and come up with questions for the experts; they meet in a big group and have their questions answered; more small meetings; another big meeting; then a final poll. Astonishingly, 70% of people change their opinion during the course of this meet-and-discuss format.
But wait, the fun isn't over yet. It's even happened here in the U.S.! A consortium of utilities in Texas put together a deliberative democracy process, and the members (customers of the utility) eventually agreed that it was best if everyone (including the people voting!) paid more so that they could install reliable wind energy resources. Imagine that!
Just a few weeks before the Time editorial, there was an article in The Economist about job creation. Buried within that article, and somewhere in the back of my brain, was a reference to YouCut, a Republican initiative designed to give the public a chance to be heard. Here's how it works: you go to the website, read about federal programs on the chopping block, decide where you want to cut spending, and text your vote to the number provided. The first project cut was a "scheme to subsidize jobs for the poor." The second week, it was a federal employee pay raise. We're now nine weeks in, and the score card is available here.
All of this seems shocking to me. Why? Probably because I'm totally disillusioned and can't stand politics or anything related to it. Yeah, but why? Because it's all a dirty game.
But maybe it doesn't have to be. Joe Klein quotes James Fiskin, a Stanford University professor who has been studying deliberative democracy for 20 years: "If you give people choices and real consequences, they will make real decisions." What a revolutionary idea.
I didn't know what this movie was about when I rented it. I just knew it had an incredible cast and I hoped they could all get together and do something great.
This time, not so much. Like I said, the cast is amazing: it stars Daniel Day-Lewis, Marion Cotillard, Penelope Cruz, and Judi Dench, and also includes Kate Hudson, Nicole Kidman, Sofia Loren, and...wait for it...Fergie!
The concept is interesting. Day-Lewis plays a struggling screenwriter and director. He's trying to write a script for a movie, but just can't come up with anything. He gets flashes of inspiration, usually in the form of scantily clad women stimulated, as it were, by some scene in his real life.
Cotillard and Dench did a wonderful and understated job supporting and challenging the filmmaker, and they really made the movie - at least as much as they could. On the whole, though, it just felt very choppy. The scenes were individually interesting, but didn't weave together to make the movie I think they could have - something in the style of Chicago.
Bottom line: great song and dance by Kate Hudson and Marion Cotillard, and a MUST-see for anyone who has the hots for Penelope Cruz! If you're not interested in the aforementioned, skip the movie and the clips below.
A number of weeks ago, I read in Time about a study which found a correlation between household income and happiness. (Also reported in Inc., U.S. News & World Report, and the Washington Post.)
The study was conducted by researchers Daniel Kahneman and Angus Deaton at Princeton University and published a month ago in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. The results show that there are two kinds of happiness, which are affected differently by your income level. The first type is your day-to-day mood and well-being (happy, sad, stressed, enjoying life, etc.). The second is your overall sense of the level of satisfaction with the way your life is going.
What the researchers found was interesting. The first type of happiness - one's day-to-day well-being - improves until household income reaches $75,000, but does not continue to improve when income increases above that amount. "Perhaps $75,000 is a threshold beyond which further increases in income no longer improve individuals' ability to do what matters most to their emotional well-being, such as spending time with people they like, avoiding pain and disease, and enjoying leisure." That is to say, below that threshold, every additional dollar of income makes it easier focus on one's emotional well-being rather than worrying about the costs of day-to-day life, such as food and medical care. But at $75,000, a sufficient amount of money can be directed at both daily concerns and emotional happiness. Additional dollars spent over that amount do not increase one's day-to-day well-being. (As an aside, 85% of the 450,000 polled by Gallup and Healthways reported feeling happy the previous day, and 40% reported feeling stressed. Does that add up to more than 100%? Indeed it does. It appears that those two things are not mutually exclusive.)
The second type of happiness, though - one's overall level of satisfaction with his or her life - does continue to increase with higher income levels. "Higher incomes don't seem to have any effect on well-being after around $75,000, whereas your evaluation of your life keeps going up along with income."
Statistically speaking, only 1/3 of households in the U.S. earn over $75,000 annually. The average household income is about $71,500, while the median is only $52,000. And what do those numbers mean? They appear to indicate that 2/3 of Americans could use a little more day-to-day happiness, and half of households need to bring in an extra $23,000 to get there. That's a tall order, I suspect.
Remember how I ended up with all those apples last year after going apple picking? (Discussed here and here.) Well, I've done it again! L and I headed out to the Eckert's Farm in Belleville early Sunday morning for some deliciously crisp apples. Suncrisp apples, in fact. They had lots of enormous pumpkins too, but we decided to save those for another day.
I loved that first apple crumble pie that I made so much, I think I'm going to make another one.
Later that same day...
And in fact, I did make another one! I could't find the recipe I used, so I tried out a new one. It wasn't quite as good as the ones from last year, but tasty nonetheless.
I was very busy in the kitchen yesterday! In addition to the apple pie, I made apricot bread (2 loaves), southwest creamy pasta bake with chicken (basically a pasta and chicken casserole), and chicken soup (K was over and she is sick :-( so we wanted to have non-experimental food - except that I don't think I'd ever actually made chicken soup before...hmm...). Anyway, quite a day!
T came back from Colorado for a few days to attend to some business in St. Louis. While he was here, he took K and me out to dinner at Eleven Eleven Mississippi in Lafayette Square, and it was delightful! Food on our table included wild boar ravioli, spinach salad with mandarin oranges, beet and goat cheese napoleon salad, char grilled ribeye with cheddar scalloped potatoes, braised rabbit, pan-seared chicken with goat cheese polenta, gooey butter cake, and rice pudding. Mmmmmmmm good. And I thought you should all see a picture of how fabulous we are!
I hadn't really planned on watching this movie. But when I returned the last one, something drove me to browse the shelves, and I had read some laudatory reviews of this flick.
So far I have seen Michael Cera in three things: Arrested Development, Juno, and now this. And in all three, he plays the same character. A kind of nerdy, hopeful (which makes him seem hopeless) dope. So I wasn't much surprised by his performance - or really by any of them actually. But I was confused. I recognized Norah, but I could not figure out what I had seen her in before. The credits and DVD cover informed me that her real name is Kat Dennings, and IMDB informed me that she played Jenny Brier, the Jewish superbrat who was having the million-dollar bat mitzvah on Sex and the City!
Everyone knows I am a sucker for something that features Manhattan as a character. It's a good thing this movie did, because the sweet, sappy, teen angsty-ness is something I wouldn't have been able to deal with otherwise. It seems a little bit like Gossip Girl (kids running wild in the city), except without all the money, revenge, and melodrama of the TV show.
Bottom line: watch it if you wish you lived in NYC.
Actually, I didn't watch this movie, but I tried to. I was unsuccessful. Partially I wasn't paying enough attention - and it's in French with subtitles, so I was missing every other line. Partially I had to go to bed so never even made it to the end (and it's due back to the library today). And partially it was just kinda weird.
It's the story of a group of Frenchies who are constantly trying but always failing to have a meal together. The first time, some of them arrive at the house on the wrong night. Then some of the ladies go out for tea, but the restaurant is out of tea. And coffee. Then everybody shows up at the right place and time, but two of the party members ran off to the garden to get it on. Et cetera. Et cetera. Et cetera. Then they all start having weird dreams about their upcoming get-togethers, so you're not sure if what you're seeing is real or someone's dream.
All in all, other than its very true commentary on how life always gets in the way of your plans, this was some weird stuff. I don't think I'll ever finish it.
Bottom line: watch only if you're on drugs or want to be a little confused.
Apparently, our current Halloween festival is a leftover combination of a Celtic/Christian holiday. Who knew?
Dinner was at Benny's Chop House, and was quite lovely. I started with the Belgian endive salad, which I would mostly recommend for the cheese that came on it. Dinner was a ribeye (my favorite cut!) cooked to perfection (medium rare) and a side of tri-color carrots (orange, red, and white). Don't see anything but orange carrots most places, so I was excited about that. No purple carrots, however - a little disappointing. L got a side of these little sweet potato patties, and they were delightful, especially the brown sugar sauce that they were sitting in.
I used to wonder why Gwen Stefani was so proud of the fact that she could spell bananas. B-a-n-a-n-a-s!
Touching Evil is a British television series which ran from 1997 to 1999. I heard about it recently - read a good review - and thought I should check it out. It's a serial crime drama about a cop working in an elite investigations division, solving crimes and trying to beat the clock.
She came out to the lake to help me out with some stuff yesterday. She was in one of the motor boats, and I was in another one. Then all the sudden I hear "Ow, my knee, my knee!" And I look over there, and she's gone! I didn't hear her fall into the water, so for a moment, I am terribly confused. Then, like a scene from a horror movie, a hand comes up and grabs onto the edge of one of the boats. I run over to where K is on the ground, rolling around on the gravel and saying "Ow, it hurts!" Turns out that she had tried to step out of the boat, but the gravel slid out from under her foot and she twisted her recently-recovered knee. She had at least enough sense to notice, while rolling around on the ground in pain, that there were spiders crawling around all over the place. But she was in so much pain that she didn't even care!
The Messenger is the painfully sad, hopeful, complicated, confusing story of two very different soldiers who, because fortune has frowned upon them, have received assignment as Casuatly Notification Officers. They tell the next-of-kin that "The Secretary of the Army regrets to inform you that your son/husband/daughter was killed."
This morning I slept through practice for the first time since I started coaching :-(
Ahh, nothing like an old classic to teach girls how to be a wife. Cooking, cleaning, having a "beautiful hide," and "lots o' book learnin'" - those apparently are the skills and attributes I need to acquire.
I didn't know what this movie was about when I rented it. I just knew it had an incredible cast and I hoped they could all get together and do something great.
I hadn't really planned on watching this movie. But when I returned the last one, something drove me to browse the shelves, and I had read some laudatory reviews of this flick.
Actually, I didn't watch this movie, but I tried to. I was unsuccessful. Partially I wasn't paying enough attention - and it's in French with subtitles, so I was missing every other line. Partially I had to go to bed so never even made it to the end (and it's due back to the library today). And partially it was just kinda weird.