Monday, June 30, 2008

Question: Are You Ready for Some Football?

Answer: Yes. Yes I am.

I am so ready that I even stooped to watching a little bit of Remember the Titans, just so I could get a simulation of the real thing. For those of you who haven't seen it, Remember the Titans offers up about as much cinematic excellence as Clash of the Titans*. While RTT doesn't have the laughable not-so-special effects of COTT, it does feature little Hayden Panettiere, who turns in what has to be the most grating child performance since Jonathan Ke Quan annoyed the living crap out of America with his portrayal of Short Round in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

And yet I put up with it, just to get a glimpse of some behelmeted lugs tackling each other. I blushed when Watoosa came back in the room, and I quickly changed the channel to public television and feigned interest in a somber discussion of the Fed's decision to lowering interest rates. But that shows you how hard up I am for some gridiron action, and there are still several weeks before even fall practice begins, let alone the first kickoff. I honestly don't know if I can make it.

Anyway, here's my prediction: Auburn will play in the BCS Championship Game either this year or the next or (most likely) both. You heard it here first. There's a good chance that Ohio State will reprise its role as SEC whipping boy, too, which will give me bragging rights over certain acquaintances of mine (you know who you are). War Eagle, y'all!

*Holy shnikies, IMDB says there's a remake of this stinkbomb due out in 2010!

Saturday, June 28, 2008

(Un)Wanted

For years now, Watoosa has maliciously told all our friends that I "made" her go see the execrably bad Pearl Harbor. It's true that seeing that flick was my idea, and that I probably should have known better. But I would like to enter the following points in my defense:

1. 2001 was an abysmal year for summer movies, and we got hoodwinked into sitting through other stinkers that year (Jurassic Park III and Planet of the Apes, for example).

2. I was really in the mood to see a movie.

3. The idea of just being in a movie theater was irresistable, as it was scorching hot that summer and our AC wasn't working (this was in the humiditopolis of St. Louis, after all).

4. Anyone who knows us will also know that Watoosa can bend my will to hers any time she wishes. In other words, I didn't exactly have to drag her into the theater.

5. It had Kate Beckinsale in it.

We tried to lower our expectations, but we just couldn't get them low enough. Apart from regretting our having paid good money to see the film, we were disturbed by the response of the guy sitting next to us, as he seemed utterly moved by the narrative (literally to tears, as I recall). If he'd been a WWII veteran, I could probably cut him some aesthetic slack, but he was hardly older than me.

Ever since, Watoosa has yet to let me live it down. But now we're even, because she talked me into going to see Wanted yesterday. True, this summer--like 2001--has been a stinker as far as movies go (We liked Iron Man well enough, and wisely opted against Indy 4, The Happening, and Prince Caspian). But Wanted is a complete waste of time, not to mention film.

Morgan Freeman phones in his performance, which is more than the script deserves, and I can't say much for James McAvoy. Angelina Jolie does what she does best, which is scowl and look undernourished (honestly, I've never understood all the hubbub about her). And when she throws a punch with her veiny, Tinkertoy arms, it's about as believable as watching the Ewoks kicking stormtrooper butt.

I might have enjoyed the movie slightly more had I not been disturbed to see that the woman down the row from us brought her preschool-age son! What's with these people? This movie had two separate sex scenes and enough F-bombs to supply the U.S. Navy! Since the theater was dark, she probably couldn't see my raised eyebrow communicating my consternation, shocked disbelief, and disdain for her parenting skills. Years from now, when her reprobate son is prosecuted for knocking over a 7-Eleven, she'll surely look back on yesterday and wish she'd decided to see Wall-E.

Just like me.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Brutal

From A. O. Scott's review of The Love Guru:

"To say that the movie is not funny is merely to affirm the obvious. The word “unfunny” surely applies to Mr. Myers’s obnoxious attempts to find mirth in physical and cultural differences but does not quite capture the strenuous unpleasantness of his performance. No, “The Love Guru” is downright antifunny, an experience that makes you wonder if you will ever laugh again."

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Yesterday, I finished C. S. Forester's Poo-Poo and the Dragons, a book that allowed me to annoy Watoosa by referring to it as simply "Poo-Poo Dragons." It's a children's book that's been out of print for some time, now. I located a copy through our local library system. When I looked at the Due Date slip, I noticed that it had been regularly checked out since 1969. I suppose these stamped Due Date slips will soon go the way of the Card Catalog, but I like seeing when other library patrons have checked out the books that I read.

Pre-natal Thoughts

Last night, Watoosa and I had our sixth and final birthing class. I haven't really blogged about the pregnancy, so here are a few random thoughts about the class and the upcoming event.

-The class has been very low-key. From what I had seen in movies and TV, I expected graphic videos that would make me squirm, and lots of time spent on the floor, pantomiming labor. There was really none of that. Mostly, we just talked about what would happen during the various stages, and how to breathe.

-I was surprised at how old all the other couples were. I'd guess that many other women, if not a majority, are older than Watoosa. Since we're in our thirties, I expected us to be the old fogies.

-One of the women in the class is a professional model, and she still looks like one (albeit one for a pregnancy magazine). Her name is Jennifer, and she and her husband were the last to arrive on the first night. When she walked in, Watoosa told me that she could detect the self-esteem of all the other women taking a nose-dive. That may be, but Jennifer can't rock the sexy librarian look like Watoosa.

-One of the husbands in the class looks remarkably like Vladimir Putin. Keep your distance, comrade!

-We've gotten the impression that a lot of the other women have been more irritable than Watoosa, who has been pretty chipper through the whole process. We've been lucky on that score.

-We did watch one video that showed several births. At first, I could only see half the screen because someone's head was blocking my line of sight. At first I just put up with it, but then I began to worry that I was missing something important on that obscured side. What if there was a special technique that the doctor was using, or that the husband was doing? I'd never know! I guess I'll find out in August.

-When they showed the baby coming out, I was shocked to see just how pointy the head was. I had heard that vaginally born babies have coneheads, but this kid looked like TV's Bert.

-Watching that video made me so very, very glad that none of us remembers our own birth. Sheesh!

-On Sunday, we toured the birthing center where we'll go for delivery. They've got free WiFi throughout the house. Watch for my liveblogging. ("Hold that contraction, honey--I'm almost done with this post!")

-The baby kicks and pushes. A lot. It's pretty freaky to feel it, and even freakier to see it. Watoosa says it doesn't really hurt as much as feel uncomfortable and weird. But since it has interfered with her sleep, I've decided to ground the kid as soon as he comes out. Spare the rod, spoil the child.

-Last night, as she crawled into bed, Watoosa huffed, "Ugh! It's just a festival of discomfort." She makes me laugh.

-I can't shake the suspicion that I really have no idea what's about to happen to us. Maybe it's because people keep telling us that we have no idea what's about to happen to us.