By Lex, on Sat – March 26, 2005
(But this is Saturday!)
Shuddup. Dinni tell you there were going to be some changes around here?
By the way, thanks to Greyhawk for the traffic spike – practically everything is under the “read more” link, just in case that wasn’t sand-poundingly obvious.
Brad Pitt has apparently bought a house in neighboring Del Mar, and of course the Del Martians are all a-twitter. Some pretend to be unimpressed, others merely wonder what, if anything, this will do for property values. The local watering holes I suspect will see an up-tick in volume, as the curious attempt to see Brad (and Jennifer?) out tripping the light fantastic.
Which is a truly obscure metaphor, when you think about it.
Saw a movie last night on DVD, at the recommendation of Son Number One, who’s home for Spring Break, except for those times where he isn’t. Donnie Darko , it was yclept, and I found myself wondering at the end of it whether or not it would be worth seeing again, and right away. The plot was more than passing strange, and it seemed to me a coin toss whether it would become any less opaque on a second viewing.
I mean, it was intriguing, but I had the sense that viewing it again might lead to more questions than answers – like maybe it was all an elaborate charade, which would only become apparent once far too much time had been spent in analysis.
Worth a look, though, if you haven’t seen it. I gather it got rave reviews from the critics while in theaters, but only a dozen actual people saw it.
Reading: The World of Christopher Marlowe , by David Riggs. A fascinating insight into the world of post-Reformation, renaissance England. Shakespeare, who ranks highest in my secular pantheon, also lived in these times, but Marlowe was first, right up until the point when he was murdered – a bar fight or an act of state? Dunno, I’ll tell you what Riggs thinks when I get to it.
Recently finished: Citizen Soldiers , by Stephen Ambrose. Ambrose is the master of accessible history, and despite the accusations of plagiarism that haunt his scholarship, I find him to be the most routinely fascinating read on history since William Manchester, whose Last Lion bios of Winston Churchill essentially turned me on to the genre. Anyway, if you’re at all interested in the history of the US and particularly the US Army at war (and you probably ought to be, given the times) I think you’d find Citizen Soldiers a compelling read, and useful historical perspective.
Recommending: Reading Lolita in Tehran , by Azar Nafisi. An exceptional book about getting along and maintaining dignity in the tyranny of the modern Iranian mullahcracy. She’s pretty strong on English literature, too.
Took the Hobbit to dinner at a nice Italian place with the clan last night, it being our 16th or so celebration of her 29th birthday. Good food, great company and I think a wonderful time had by all. I’d done the necessary on the way home from the ship, and got birthday cards for all of us, the Hobbit setting great store by these formalities. SNO dropped a line in about the Kat doing Pop Warner, which left me momentarily nonplussed.
“Football?” I cried, querulously. The Kat is a wee, little thing, and for all that she’s an unassailable force of moral nature, the boys would make short shrift of her on the playing field. Flashing lights and the smell of emergency rooms passed across the fevered canvas of my imagination before my misperception was corrected:
“Cheerleading,” I was informed.
The Biscuit, age 14, the apple of my eye and love of my life, but with whom I have recently had a rather tempestuous relationship, saw the words forming on my lips and shot me a warning, “Don’t.”
“Let her do it – when you told me in 5th grade that I couldn’t, you broke my heart.”
See, we’ve been through this before: The Biscuit was enraptured with the idea of being a cheerleader back when, and stood against her. My logic is still (to me) irrefutable – Girls, I thought, should not be spending their pre-teen years dressed in skimpy costumes to add decorative glitter to the athletic performance of pre-teen boys. They should be out there on the pitch, getting dirty themselves, competing with other girls. I felt that way then. Still do.
And that’s the way it went for the next few years, until gradually the Biscuit dropped out of all of that. And about the time that happened, we started to quarrel about, oh – everything. Which classes to take, what to wear, when she had to be home, etc, etc. Not knock-down, drag-out quarrels, but the weary sense of an impending disagreement surrounding every issue more consequential than the weather.
And although she’s probably had enough of being my daughter, I’m nowhere near ready to stop being her father, which is a continuing source of friction.
So after dinner, we lagged behind the crowd walking back to the car, by mutual and unspoken consent, which was interesting, and she told me what she thought of all that, and all this. And I admitted that, while I hadn’t changed my opinion on this cheerleading issue, that I was willing for the sake of argument to stick a sock in it, and let matters take their course with the Kat in re: Pop Warner.
But interestingly, today we were headed over to her high school to register for freshman year of high school. I’d talked her out of Earth Sciences (an elective) and into Biology (college prep, core), but was unable to get her to sign up for honors English, which would be truly playing to her strengths. And I mentioned that she was stressing way too much over this course selection business, and she responded that it was me who was stressing and she was replying in kind.
Which made me think.
And I finally replied that what really stressed me out was knowing that if I, as a college graduate and veteran of some 30 more summers than herself, had an idea about what might better prepare her for life, that sharing that idea with her would be a certain invitation to civil skirmishing, if not outright war.
Which made her think.
I don’t know. Maybe we’re getting somewhere?
EBay is absurdly easy to use, and can save you many hundreds of dollars, as I found out today when I registered for the first time, and placed a ridiculously low bid against a set of Mizuno MP-32 irons * I’ve been lusting after for quite some time.
Now I’ve got some ‘splaining to do. Because even when they’re hundreds of dollars below retail, they’re not cheap, and after all, whose birthday is it again?
Happy Easter, to those who celebrate it.