Nothing But Random Thoughts

May 2014

A friend of mine (no names, please) is trying to lose weight for her daughter’s upcoming wedding.  She’s not trying to lose a lot of weight, just enough so that she doesn’t have to wear those dreaded Spanx, the torture device intended to make women look slim by crushing our internal organs just to hide the old muffin top.  Is this really necessary?  As she pointed out, if she has a little extra girth around the mid-section, it’s not as if someone is going to think a woman in her 60s is pregnant.  That ship has sailed.  So is it really worth squeezing our body parts to the point where we can neither breathe nor relieve ourselves without the use of the “jaws of life?”  Who wrote that song, “I Enjoy Being a Girl” anyway?

I just saw a promo for a new TV show that debuts in the fall.  Really, what makes ABC think I'll remember it by then? I can hardly remember it now.

If I even think about getting the car washed or watering the grass, we get rain.  I should be dispatched to drought-stricken areas.

Wouldn't it be better for the staff at the eye doctor's office to take my co-pay before the doctor dilates my pupils?  I have a tough time writing out that check AFTER my appointment is done.  Usually I just do it in advance and hand it to them as I leave the office, ready to drive myself home with one hand on the wheel and one hand on the road.

What with the dwindling supply of paper bags from the supermarket (whose existence has been superseded by reusable canvas bags), what am I supposed to use to recycle my magazines and junk mail?  Now I am hoarding paper bags and may have to break into the collection of paper shopping bags if this crisis is not averted.

I have a bit of a recycling obsession, I must admit.  Not only do I faithfully put it out, but my newspapers are bundled up so neatly that my sister once said it looked like I was gift-wrapping them.  My cardboard is cut to a manageable size, as if they won’t take it otherwise.  And I carefully put out the junk mail and magazines in paper bags (as we know, worried about securing the needed supply) and out at the curb – almost invariably on an evening when it rains. 

Just so you know, the elevator won’t come any faster if you keep pressing the button.  And my browser won’t open any sooner if I press the ENTER key really hard.

I hope I live long enough to watch everything I have recorded on my two DVRs and to read all the magazines I have put aside.  At this rate, I’ll live forever.

I hope I live long enough to read all the magazines I have piled up.  Obama won the last election, right?

Do me a favor:  When you are going down the aisles in the supermarket, please keep your cart in front of you.  Don’t walk down the aisle side by side with it, or you effectively block the entire aisle.  Don’t make me get all road ragey on you with a shopping cart.

In real life, do we ever need more math knowledge than how to calculate the tip in a restaurant or the 25% off at Macy’s?  Really, when was the last time you thought about sines, co-sines, tangents or algebra?  Apologies to my math teacher friends.

When I am folding the clean sheets, I’m always amazed to I think of them in their original plastic package.  I defy anyone to refold the sheets into the size the set came in when you bought it.

I wish I had a dime for every serving of chicken I have had at special event luncheons and dinners.  But why does the chicken always look pink?  I was at a dinner recently with a lot of red light in the ballroom, and I actually took out a small flashlight to inspect the chicken before I ate it.  A few people refused to eat it at all, but, according to my flashlight, it was the lighting, not the chicken.  Still, nobody wants to eat raw chicken, right?  And then there are the vegetables.  These banquet places can take one carrot and use it for the the entire room.  Could they make them any thinner or smaller? 

I attended one of these luncheons the other day and expressed my confusion over the place setting.  I never know which water or roll is mine, it seems.  Until now.  A woman at the table gave me a great tool to help me remember which is which.  Just think BMW (like the car) -- bread-meal-water, going left to right.  Let's hope I don't get it confused with Mercedes or Ford or I'll be searching under the table for something to drink.

Helpful household hint:  Keep the tops of the margarine containers and stick them under jars of pickles in the refrigerator to collect any spills, or use them under the dish detergent if you leave it on the counter to protect from drips.  The larger ones I use as mini cutting boards when I am slicing berries.  When they get ruined, they get tossed. 

You know you are getting old when you find yourself reading the column on senior activities in the local paper and it isn't about the high school.  And worse, you start thinking, "That sounds like fun."

What is it with the clock radios in hotel rooms?  There are so many buttons and no indication of how to set the time.  You can charge your iPhone or wake up to music or a buzzer, but if you can’t set the time, all is lost.  I carry my own little travel clock and it’s a good thing since the last few hotels had radios beyond my realm of technical competence.

I think all credit card machines should be required to be identical so I’ll know how to swipe my card, where to sign, etc.  Sometimes the glare of the store lights on the screen makes the content illegible.  While we’re at it, let’s address that issue, too.

Don’t you have a bunch of old keys lying around?  Chances are you don’t know what they open but you are afraid to throw them out because you might need them.  For what, you don’t know.

In preparation for spring, I took apart my gas grill and cleaned it to within an inch of its life, scrubbing and shining it so well that I hated to use it for the first time and mess it up again.

Meanwhile, speaking of grills, why is it that men consider themselves the kings of the grill?  My brother-in-law, who can barely make toast, loves to throw burgers on the grill.  Is it that men can only cook outside the house?  I can hold my own cooking over fire AND I can make toast, too.

I’ve heard a lot of bad things about the new Windows 8 operating system, but it turns out not to be so bad after all.  On my new HP, Windows 8.1 computer, I simply hit the box called DESKTOP on the lower left and see the same desktop I am accustomed to seeing.  Now the computer is set up so that I don’t even have to hit that box.  By the way, I bought my new laptop at Staples and for $100 they transferred all of my files at the store, then the technician came to the house and installed the new printer, set up the wireless network and showed me how to stream Netflix on my TV.  I made the poor guy earn that $100, but it was a good investment.  He left me with the old hard drive (which I guess I can hit with a hammer) but even got rid of the computer tower for me.  Well worth the money.

After the horrible winter we had, where there was so much snow on the ground that I couldn’t get out for a walk, I swear I won’t complain about the summer heat.  Unless, of course, my air conditioning goes on the fritz.

If you have ever had one of those little cubes of note paper, you will know that they last forever.  I have one that promotes a website and I know I acquired it before I retired at the end of 2006.  The cube will probably outlast the website.  I’m going to leave it to someone in my will, because I have a feeling there will still be paper on it.  I often will find little notes I have written myself, frequently with phone numbers but no names associated with the numbers.  I guess I thought I’d remember whose numbers they were, but I never do!

Tina's April 2014 Movies

April was not the cruelest month when it came to movies.  I saw a baker's dozen, some new ones, some old ones, some I liked and some I should have skipped.  Numbering picks up from the previous month and new movies are marked with an asterisk.  All movies are rated on my particular scale of 1-5 cans of tuna fish, 5 being the best.

40.  Big Night (1996) – Tony Shaloub and Stanley Tucci (who co-wrote and co-directed) are perfectly cast as Primo and Secondo, two Italian immigrants operating a restaurant.  Primo is an exacting and brilliant chef who will not compromise to give his customers what they want if he doesn’t agree with their choices.  Secondo knows the business is failing, and he proposes one big event to garner publicity and save the restaurant.  However, their friend fails to deliver special guest Louis Prima and all the people who gather for the best meal of their lives aren’t paying customers.  I viewed this film early in the morning, which was a good idea since my mouth watered just a little less watching the dazzling array of food included in this banquet.  There are plenty of names to drop here – Isabella Rossellini, Minnie Driver, co-producer/director Campbell Scott, Allison Janney, among others – but it is the relationship between the uncompromising Primo and his hopeful but desperate brother that adds to the recipe.  3½ cans, though Primo would never serve anything out of a can.

41.  The Lunch Box* (2013) – Well, here’s a topic about which I knew nothing.  For decades, hot lunches have been prepared in home kitchens in the suburbs of Mumbai and delivered by dabba wallahs – delivery men using bikes, trains and other forms of transportation to get the meals to office workers in the city (a very different Meals on Wheels concept).  The system is highly efficient and widely praised, but, once in a while, things go wrong.  In this drama, an older man, a lonely widower with a dull office job and a desire to retire, accidentally gets a delicious lunch that is not intended for him.  The young woman who is the cook and whose husband doesn't even realize he isn't eating her food begins corresponding with him.  Each day they put notes in the container used to transport the food.  They begin a relationship via these notes, building an intimacy that leads them to want to meet.  It is hard to provide more detail without revealing spoilers, so I'll just say that the movie reminded me of the lovely "84 Charing Cross Road" with Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins, but this movie is about food, not books. Both are about relationships.  Viewers will get a lot of insight into the Indian culture here, and the performances by the lead actors (Irrfan Khan as the office worker who really looks forward to lunch, and Nimrat Kaur as the unhappy housewife who can really cook) are winning.  Skip your fast food lunch and see this movie instead.  4 cans.   

42.  The Buddy Holly Story (1978) – Long before he posed for some notorious police mug shots, Gary Busey won wide acclaim (and an Oscar nomination) for his portrayal of rock ‘n roll legend Buddy Holly in this biopic.  Holly’s shot at fame was almost derailed by the prevailing notion that he should eschew rock in favor of the country, “hillbilly” music of his native Lubbock, Texas, but Holly marched to the beat of a different drummer. Together with his band, the Crickets (Don Stroud and Charles Martin Smith), he went from playing at the local roller rink to the height of fame before a tragic accident took his life.  His place in the pantheon of rock ‘n roll legends was often cited by The Beatles and The Rolling Stones as an early influence on their work.  Just listening to Busey perform Holly’s songbook reminded me of how prolific and talented Holly was during a tragically short career.  4 cans.

43.  Draft Day* (2014) – Kevin Costner in another sports movie cannot be bad, right?  After all, this is the man who brought us “Bull Durham” and “Field of Dreams” in baseball and “Tin Cup” from the world of golf, among many others.  Now he tackles football (pun intended) as Sonny Weaver, Jr., the general manager of the NFL’s Cleveland Browns, on the tensest day of the year – Draft Day.  No pressure:  Just draft and develop the best college players into top pros and win the Super Bowl.  Evaluate the talent, consider the proposed trades, check in with the owner and coach to make sure they are on board with your choices…well, maybe Sonny isn’t about to cede his power to anyone else.  The man has a gut feeling, and he goes with it.  The movie is visually intriguing, as director Ivan Reitman (“Ghostbusters” and other classic comedies) uses split screens and overlapping shots to show us conversations.  I loved the flyovers of all of the real NFL stadiums and the trash talk among the men in charge.  Jennifer Garner is aboard as Sonny’s salary cap expert, a lawyer whom he has been secretly seeing outside of work, a secret that everyone knows.  While she doesn’t have a great part, she does get the best line in the movie:  “Sometimes the correct path is the tortured one.”  This wasn’t a great movie, but it was worth a 3^rd round draft pick.  3½ cans.

44.  The Address* (2014) – This is a Ken Burns documentary, so you know that the address isn’t going to be “1313 Mockingbird Lane.”  No, this is about a boys’ school in Vermont, where middle school and high school boys have to memorize and deliver the Gettysburg Address, Lincoln’s two-minute oration from 1863.  This small school caters to boys with learning issues.  Many are ADHA or dyslexic or have speech impediments or emotional problems.  They have been bullied in many cases and feel either stupid or incapable of learning. Yet there are also musicians and Rubix Cube phenoms among the population, and, when challenged to do something they considered impossible, they rise to the occasion.  The impact of this exercise is significant in the boys’ lives, and it’s clear that Lincoln’s speech is as meaningful to them and to the thoughtful, skilled teachers who encourage them, than Lincoln himself could have imagined.  4 cans.

45.  The Remains of the Day (1993) – If you love “Downton Abbey,” this classic Merchant-Ivory production about an English estate and the staff that runs it is for you.  Anthony Hopkins shines more than silverware as Mr. Stephens, the butler, whose mission in life is to make everything at Darlington House perfect.  He is aided by Emma Thompson as Miss Kenton, the housekeeper, whose interest in Stephens goes beyond place settings.  Stephens is wedded to service, and carefully masks any emotions he may harbor.  The movie takes place in the decade prior to World War II, with Lord Darlington convening other gentlemen and political figures at the estate to discuss the changing political situation.  A virile and impossibly handsome Christopher Reeve is an American Congressman who realizes these men are amateurs when it comes to resolving world issues.  But the real story here is the relationship between Mr. Stephens and Miss Kenton, which is beautifully played out.  Rent it, borrow it – please, just watch it.  4½ cans.

46.  Made* (2001) – There is undeniable chemistry between director-writer Jon Favreau and Vince Vaughn, both of whom starred in Favreau’s earlier “Swingers.”  There they were on the make for “honeys,” and here they are on a mission they know nothing about to get money for a mob guy in LA (Peter Falk).  The plot is minimal and the dialog is fast and furious.  Favreau’s Bobby is the responsible one, while Vaughn’s Ricky is a fast-talker who can be charming when he isn’t driving everyone around him crazy.  If you love the actors, you might like the movie, but I’ve had my fill of these two buddies.  2 cans.

47.  Inside Llewyn Davis* (2013) – I’m not sure I want to know Llewyn Davis.  A talented musician but an irresponsible man who crashes on the couches of friends, Davis is always broke and cannot get out of his own way.  He can’t even take care of a friend’s cat.  The story takes place in New York in 1961, just at the birth of the folksinger movement that Davis disparages even as he emulates it.  All he needs is one big break, but he’s doing so badly he’s resigned to going back into the Merchant Marines.  He can’t even succeed at that.  Unusual for a Coen brothers movie, this film lacks a sense of the absurd they do so well.  Oscar Issac is good in his thankless role as Llewyn, and I liked the music, though not enough to download it.  I was told I probably wouldn’t like this movie, and my friends were right.  2½ cans.

48.  The Way Way Back* (2013) – Poor Duncan (Liam James) is a misfit.  He’s 14 and stuck living with his divorced mother (Toni Collette) and her insufferable boyfriend (Steve Carell) for a vacation at the beach.  Sullen and lonely, he turns up at a local water park, where he is befriended by the wacky staff, particularly by Owen (Sam Rockwell).  This movie had shades of “Lifeguard,” “The Flamingo Kid” and “Stand By Me,” all coming-of-age movies of a sort.  Duncan is overlooked by his mother and bullied by her boyfriend.  But Owen is friendly and funny and makes him feel like a normal kid, or at least better about himself.  I wanted to love this movie because it had all the hallmarks of that kind of experience, but I will settle for slightly better than average.  3½ cans.

49.  Laura* (1944) – A film noir murder mystery, Laura is the story of a smart and popular woman (Gene Tierney) who is killed.  Her murderer could be any of the people in her life – Shelby, the man she is supposed to marry (Vincent Price, not looking at all like Vincent Price); Diane, her rival for Shelby; and her older friend, Waldo Lydecker (a great name, here played by Clifton Webb), a wealthy man who squires Laura around town.  Red herrings are everywhere as Detective Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews) pours through Laura’s letters and personal effects trying to establish a motive and nab the killer.  Everyone – including her maid – loves Laura, so who would want to kill her?  McPherson is enamored with her portrait and her life, and is determined to solve the crime.  Otto Preminger directed this slick and suspenseful film, and I’m glad I finally caught up with it.  4 cans.

50.  Goodbye Columbus (1969) – Ali McGraw plays spoiled Brenda Patimkin, a rich bitch Radcliffe girl enjoying her summer at home in Westchester.  She meets a boy from the Bronx, Neil (Richard Benjamin), who is decidedly beneath her social status – much to the dismay of her parents (Jack Klugman and Nan Martin).  He is unambitious, not impressed by money and totally smitten by Brenda, despite his utter disdain for her family’s nouveau rich lifestyle, where, if you don’t like your nose, you get it fixed, etc.  This comedy-drama takes on societal mores and class differences that you know ultimately will doom the Brenda-Neil coupling.  She’s rich, he feels inferior and insulted most of the time.  It has been a long time since I last watched this movie and I relished it.  The scenes from the wedding of Brenda’s dim-witted but good-natured brother are spot on: The crazy relatives out on the dance floor, the decapitation of chopped liver in the shape of a rooster, the uncles in the carpet business pacing off the size of the banquet room – all are priceless.  This was McGraw’s first movie, and she made a memorable debut.   Welcome back, Columbus.  4 cans.

51.  M*A*S*H* (1970) – As soon as you hear the opening verse of the song “Suicide Is Painless,” you know that this is no conventional war movie.  The irreverent surgeons, nurses and staff of the 4077 Army medical unit engage in a myriad of outrageous hijinks.  They aren’t there to fight the war but to stop the bleeding, to make fun, not war, and to try and find coping mechanisms that will get them through the blood and gore that they face daily.  Nothing is off limits for these far-from-regular soldiers during the Korean War.  The merry band of lunatics is led by surgeons Captain Hawkeye Pierce (Donald Sutherland) and Captain John McIntyre (Elliot Gould, sporting a mustache that should have gotten its own billing).  They like women, drinking and generally poking fun at anything or anyone who reeks of authority.  Director Robert Altman specializes in episodic movies with large casts, and he manages this talented group with aplomb (Sally Kellerman, Robert Duvall, Tom Skerritt and the original and only Radar O’Reilly, Gary Burghoff).  Though I liked the TV show better, that is because it was on the air so long that we really got to know these people and see the value of human life in more depth.  4 cans.

52.  Leaving Las Vegas* (1995) – I’m not much of a Nicholas Cage fan (the only movie he’s made that I like is “Moonstruck”) but I’ll give him credit for being able to gulp down mass quantities of liquid in his role as alcoholic writer Ben.  Ben is lonely, horny and desperate enough to decide to leave Hollywood and drink himself to death in Las Vegas.  I’d be OK with his plan, but his progress toward that end is somewhat interrupted when he meets Sera (Elisabeth Shue), a prostitute with not quite the proverbial heart of gold, but who inexplicably (because they are both desperate and lonely) falls for him.  How she can get near him after he’s been drinking for hours is puzzling to me.  Shue looks too wholesome to be a hardcore hooker, but Cage looks desperate enough to do anything.  This movie was well reviewed when it was released, but there’s not a lot here that’s likeable, so I’ll give it 3 cans for the acting and not the distasteful story. 

April Bits and Pieces

Doesn't it kill you when you are sure you will remember something and you don't?  I used to buy chicken, use some, freeze the rest and I was certain I would remember when I bought it. Now I'm not so sure, so little notes go into the plastic bag before the chicken goes into the freezer.  And as for the folder I must remember to take with me to a meeting, that has to go into the bag the night before, and the bag has to be sitting in front of the door, so I have to move it to get out.  Whatever works, right?

I was writing a note (probably about the chicken) and looked down at the pen and found it was labeled "University of Kentucky Bookstore."  What?  I have never been to Kentucky, the RU Women's basketball team hasn't played Kentucky, so I have no idea how that pen found its way into my collection, alongside pens from law firms I don't use, financial planners I have never met, drugs I have never taken and an organization called "Help You Pay for College.com."  Strange.

I just read a book called “What Alice Forgot.”  Ironically, I kept forgetting the name in the title.  I think the sequel should be called, “What Tina Forgot.”

There are so many potholes on Willow Road near my house that I feel like a moguls skier when I drive down that road, moving from side to side and getting bounced around.  I’m afraid a cop will pull me over for driving erratically as I bob and weave down the road.

Just wondering:  When did World War I become World War I?  I’m guessing it was when World War II came along.  After all, it would have been foreboding to have it named World War I, implying that there would be a second one when the first was complete.  And who decided to number global conflicts instead of naming them?  Was there a committee of some sort formed to tackle this issue?  Or was there a groundswell of support via Facebook or Twitter to go for the WW I and WW II names?  Wait, I'm time traveling.

If there is ever a movie made of my life (and the odds on that happening are not good), I think it should be titled, “The Long, Hot Shower.”  I do love a long, hot shower to loosen the muscles and rid my body of that nasty chemical odor from aqua aerobics.

Doesn’t it seem like only yesterday we were fretting over Y2K?  A kid turning 13 this year wasn’t even born when Y2K occurred.  I was on the planning committee for my department at J&J, and people were in a panic that we might not be able to send out a press release if there were no power.  Relax, I told them, no one will be able to get it anyway.  The next time we change centuries, this will be someone else’s problem. 

I wish I had a dime for every time I have noticed the record light on the DVR and thought, “I wonder what I am recording now.”  With all of the TV I watch and movies I see, there is always something being saved for future viewing.

Do you realize that no child growing up today will have ever licked a stamp?  And what market is there for those little spongy things we had in the office?  For that matter, kids today may grow up wondering what actual mail looks like since most of it consists of bills (declining due to electronic distribution), birthday cards (declining due to Facebook and e-mail) and those annoying ads you get reminding you to get your chimney cleaned or encouraging you to replace your windows.  The post office will probably be out of business anyway.

I’ll admit it: I can’t bring myself to use just one space at the end of a sentence.  I was taught to use two spaces, and I will go to my grave using two spaces.  However, that sometimes means that the beginning of a line doesn’t appear flush left with the rest of the paragraph.  Either of those two choices is enough to drive me crazy.  So please, on the tombstone, TWO SPACES!  Thanks.

People, people, people:  I ask your help in eradicating the incorrect use of the word “unique.”  Something is unique if it is different, if it stands out in some way.  There are no qualifiers for the word unique.  Something is either unique or it isn’t.  It cannot be “very” unique.  Someone can be uniquely qualified, but not highly unique.  This is the stuff that drives me crazy, along with the use of single quotes where double quotes are needed.   For example, grammar expert Tina Gordon said, “I feel uniquely qualified to point out that ‘highly unique’ is a phrase that is incorrect.”  The single quote is used within the larger quoted sentence.  I realize that these pet peeves may be unique to me, but let’s work together to stamp them out!

I guess if I want the electric razor to actually shave my legs, changing the batteries more than once a decade helps.  The shaver I was about to throw away now works like a buzz saw, powered by those new AAs.

Just when I think my mind is as sharp as ever, “Jeopardy” throws in “Famous Mathematicians” or “Peninsulas” to remind me of how much I don’t know.

I took four years of French in high school (to go along with four years of Spanish) and never once heard any of the language used by people who swear and then say, “Pardon my French.”  I must have been absent the day they went over those words, which, by the way, don’t sound French at all. 

And speaking of Spanish, I cannot remember why I am standing in front of the pantry, but I can remember all those Spanish dialogs we had to memorize as kids:  “Carumba, se me olvido mi cuaderno.”  “No importa. Yo tengo papel.”  Come on, you know them, too!

I cannot stand that sticky stuff they use to attach coupons to cardboard.  Kohl’s and Macy's use it a lot.  It is tough to get off and it has the texture of snot.  Yuck!

Whenever I have to get an X-ray or some diagnostic test done and the technician says, “Don’t move,” my body feels like it goes into involuntary spasms, making me sure that the image will be nothing but a blur. 

I think when the cleaning service comes to the house, they walk around the house and make all of the pictures on the wall crooked so I’ll think they dusted them.  I think that trick is in the cleaner’s manual.

You know you’re a “fan”atic when you find yourself watching a 2009 women’s basketball game and you’re still thrilled with the ending.

Speaking of basketball, I was one of the lucky Cagers Club “Road Warriors” who used trains, planes and automobiles to follow the Rutgers Women’s Basketball Team as they captured the Women’s National Invitational Tournament Championship Trophy this month.  I calculated that those of us who went to all 3 road games (at Bowling Green, Ohio; the University of South Florida in Tampa and UTEP in El Paso, following 3 games at home), logged nearly 1,200 driving miles and more than 7,000 in the air, with flights from Newark or JFK to Tampa and Albuquerque, stopping and changing planes in Nashville, Chicago and Atlanta.  Eight days, 8 flights, 7 states and 3 victories:  Priceless.  Until the credit card bill arrives, that is.

After watching so much basketball, the slow pace of baseball is, well, kind of boring, I have to admit.

You may remember I recently wrote an essay on my sleeping problems.  After recently  falling asleep on my flights on the way to all those basketball games – once before we even had taxied to the runway (but it was a really EARLY flight) – I have decided to buy myself a seatbelt, strap myself into the recliner, sit in an upright position (and with my tray table up), put the neck pillow under my chin and get a good night’s sleep.  I realize that it might not work if no one is there to wake me and ask if I want a beverage. 

I have been watching “Revenge” since it started a few years ago on ABC, so I cannot abandon it now.  But I wish Emily Thorne would get her revenge already.  This influx of former wives, kids no one knew they had and other secondary characters makes for that “jump the shark” moment that spells doom for most TV shows when they abandon the original premise and cast and expand beyond recognition.  Also, I can’t take the whispering.  In real life, when people fight, we SHOUT.  We do not whisper.  Unintelligibly, at that.

Remember when coupons had expiration dates of two years?  Now I don’t even bother cutting some out because they expire in three weeks.  There goes 50 cents I could have saved.

I fear that in generations to come the name Paul Newman will only be associated with salad dressing and spaghetti sauce and not with the handsome and talented actor who made so many movies I love (“Butch Cassidy,” “The Sting,” “The Young Philadelphians,” “Cool Hand Luke,” among so many others). 

I was recently sick, which means I had to take medicine.  In my weakened state, it was almost impossible to extricate the pills from their stronger-than-steel blister packs.  And have you ever had a pounding headache, only to have to wrestle with the top of the medicine bottle to get it open?  I know these things are supposed to be “childproof,” but I’m telling you, that packaging works all too well on adults. 

And speaking of being sick, this is yet another time when I am happy I live alone.  I was making all kinds of disgusting noises, things that woke me up.  I cannot imagine how someone else could have gotten a decent night’s sleep in this house with that racket going on.

Here’s how to tell that I am really, really sick:  My bed isn’t made.  I faithfully make my bed every day, but, on the rare occasions that I am sick enough to know I’ll be spending the day in it, why bother to make it?  Of course, you could ponder the need to make it every day since you’ll be getting in it again that night, but I make mine anyway.

Don’t you hate it when you open the washing machine lid and see remnants of a tissue all over the dark load?  I live alone, so there is no one to blame for this transgression but me.

Does anyone actually read those inserts that come with the water bill or the PSE&G bill?  It’s not like anyone has ever said to me, “You know, I read a great tip on the insert that came with my sewer bill the other day.”

And who orders all that stuff the Bradford Exchange is always advertising with those annoying magazine inserts (I’m talking to you, TV Guide)?  OK, once I ordered a pair of B&W “I Love Lucy” sneakers – which I actually wear from time to time – but isn’t like I am going to order porcelain figurines of Lucy and Desi any time soon.  Does anyone?

A well-planned escape was thwarted today when I discovered my missing blue sock hiding in the sleeve of my sweatshirt.  Nice try.

YOU may think that blooming daffodils are the sure sign of spring, but when the Dairy Delite soft ice cream place on Hamilton Street in Somerset takes down the plywood covering its windows and puts out the OPEN sign, I KNOW spring has sprung.

Tina's March 2014 Movies

March Madness basketball severely limited my movie watching and delayed this monthly blog entry.  The numbering picks up from the previous month and, as always, movies are rated on a scale of 1-5 cans of tuna, with 5 being the highest rank.  Enjoy.

31.   Election (1999) – A young Reese Witherspoon is perfection as Tracy Flick, an energetic and ambitious high school student with her sights set on being Student Body President.   Matthew Broderick is a teacher in her school and a bit skeptical of her motives, so he persuades a football player (Chris Klein) to run against her.  Various hijinks ensue as this story skewers the brown-noser types like Tracy, high school life in general, laconic teachers, and, most of all, elections.  3 cans.

32.  In the Heat of the Night (1967) – This movie was named Best Picture of 1967, something I would dispute (see next review).  Virgil Tibbs (Sidney Poitier) is merely passing through a small Southern town when he is hauled in to the sheriff’s office merely because he is black.  While verifying his identity as a police officer from Philadelphia to local authorities, he is roped into solving the murder of a local businessman.  Tibbs must contend with discrimination and stereotypes while peeling back the layers of the crime, examining aspects that the local yokels have ignored or misunderstood.  Rod Steiger as the sheriff treats him with disdain yet recognizes he needs his expertise.  Tibbs manages to outwit, outplay and outclass everyone.  Nice bits from Lee Grant as the murdered man’s wife, and Poitier and Steiger play their parts with grit and relish.  4 cans.

33.  The Graduate (1967) – This, in my not-so-humble opinion, is the best movie of 1967.  In fact, it is my favorite movie of all-time.  The anti-establishment theme appealed to me as a 17-year old trying to understand the expectations of society for someone just coming of age – and I mean not just Dustin Hoffman’s Benjamin Braddock, but also me.  “Plastics,” “Oh, no, it’s completely baked,” “Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to seduce me” are just some of the classic lines from this serious yet extremely funny movie.  It was very contemporary for 1967, and it holds up well after all these years.  Anne Bancroft is the ultimate cougar as Mrs. Robinson and Katherine Ross is the beautiful Elaine, her daughter, who meets Benjamin and gives him a purpose in life.  Kudos to Bancroft for deftly playing the seductress and the mother of Ross when she was only a few years older than Hoffman.  Mike Nichols directed this hit, and it helped establish him and Hoffman as major players in Hollywood.  I love this movie and always will.  5 cans for the film itself and another 5 for its legendary Simon & Garfunkel soundtrack.

34.  Moonstruck (1987) – This irresistible movie is more about moments than plot.  Loretta Castorini (Cher, who won the Oscar for Best Actress)) is a dowdy widow (who cleans up well) resigned to marrying her long-time boyfriend Johnny Cammereri (Danny Aiello) even though she feels she has no luck in love.  When she is told by Johnny to invite his estranged brother Ronny (Nicholas Cage) to the wedding while he flies to his dying mother’s bedside in Palermo, sparks fly between Loretta and Ronny.  There are great scenes with her parents in Brooklyn (Vincent Gardenia and Olympia Dukakis, who my friend Dy will insist to her dying day is miscast despite her Oscar for the role), with her confused grandfather, her aunt and uncle, her father’s secret girlfriend (Anita Gillette) and a would-be lothario professor (John Mahoney).  Why do men chase women?  Because they fear death, we learn.  But Loretta  declares that one day Johnny will die and she’ll come to the funeral wearing a red dress.  Throw in some table slapping, a night at the opera, a little Vicki  Carr music and you have a pastiche of life Italiano, oddly enough written by John Patrick Shanley.  The shot of Cher coming home on the “walk of shame,” kicking a tin can down the street with her red patent leather heels is priceless.  I love every minute.  4½ cans.

35.  Downhill* (2014) – This ESPN documentary focuses on the rise and fall of US Olympic skier Bill Johnson.  The brash Johnson won the US’ first-ever gold medal in the downhill at the 1984 Olympics.  An outsider to the ski team, Johnson was his own man.  When asked what winning the gold meant to him, the 23-year old said, “Millions.”   Alas, his outspokenness and penchant for partying did not sit well with corporations who love to lavish money on the athletes that have the golden image, and his endorsement prospects failed to materialize.  He made personal appearances and continued to ski, but ultimately was forced to find work to support his wife and children.  An ill-conceived comeback in preparation for the Olympics in Salt Lake City nearly killed Johnson, and his health has continued to decline.   Johnson was the golden boy of skiing, but while he was a whiz on the slopes, his real life is a cautionary tale of too much, too soon.  This is a sad story about a guy who could have had it all.  3½ cans.

36.  Indiscreet (1958) – There’s not a lot of substance in this Stanley Donen movie, but the enchanting leads (Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman) make it worth watching.  Bergman’s Anna is an actress in London who falls for diplomat Philip, who confesses he is married.  They are indiscreet anyway, though Anna wonders why he can’s just get a divorce and marry her.  Well, that’s because he isn’t married.  A confirmed bachelor, Philip has lied to the women in his life to avoid a long-term commitment.  In the last third of this stylish show, Anna finds out Philip isn’t married at all and tries to turn the tables on her paramour.  Worth watching just to see the clothes and sets.  Really, has anyone in the movies ever worn a tuxedo better than Cary Grant?  3½ cans.

37.  Apollo 13 (1995) – I think I watch and review this movie every year, and yet it continues to engage me.  So many things went wrong with the 1989 launch of Apollo 13, destined for the moon but crippled by an explosion.  As badly as the flight goes, that is how well the movie goes.  Having recently visited the Johnson Space Center in Houston, I felt even more connected to the story.  And although I know the ending, I still hold my breath until the capsule splashes down.  5 cans.

38.  The Bad & the Beautiful (1958) – Kirk Douglas is bad and Lana Turner is beautiful in this tale of an ambitious Hollywood producer who will ruin lives to achieve success.  In his rise to the top he uses an erratic actress with a drinking problem and cheats a writer who aspires to be a director from making the film he imagined.  Turner is well cast as the troubled actress with minimal acting ability and Douglass is cold as ice as the ruthless producer.  If you like to see Hollywood excoriated, tune in.  3 cans.

39.  About a Boy (2002) – Since I have now watched several episodes of the NBC TV program based on this movie, I thought I should go back and see the original.  The story is more about a man than a boy, a self-centered man who refuses to grow up and commit to anything or anyone.  Hugh Grant is Will, a skirt-chasing bachelor whose path crosses with awkward 12-year old Marcus (Nicholas Hoult), a fatherless child living with a mother who always is on the verge of a breakdown.  Will actually joins a group for single parents just to meet women, and the woman he is dating is friends with Marcus’ mother.  The kid keeps coming around, hoping for an adult friend who can be counted on, but Will’s not that guy.  Still, Marcus doesn’t fit in with the kids his age, and he can sit and watch TV with Will and avoid going home to the house of depression.  Their relationship blooms, and Will teaches Marcus to be more accepted even as Marcus teaches Will to let people become more than a passing part of his life.  Ultimately, Will comes to the rescue when Marcus needs him most.  Grant is at his befuddled and charming best and has never looked better, the kid is off-center but irresistible, and Toni Collette is the mother whose haircut alone would send me into a deep depression.  The TV show is amusing, but the movie is better.  3½ cans.

Stages of Sleep

Stages of Sleep

We all know that there are stages to sleep.  You have to cycle through the first few to get to the heavy-duty REM sleep, which is that blissful state where you are totally relaxed and sleeping deeply.

My sleep patterns are slightly different.

Stage 1:  I fall asleep – eventually, generally in bed, drifting off with the TV on, or after reading a few pages of a book.  This usually takes a fair amount of time, even if I am really tired.  If I am too wound up (as I always am after a Rutgers Women’s Basketball game – win or lose), I can’t fall asleep.  I play mind games, trying to recall all of the players on the 1961 New York Yankees, for example.  I know that telling yourself NOT to think is the best advice, but my switch is lodged permanently in the “on” position.

Stage 2:  Impossible, of course, without Stage 1, but I will be comfortably asleep until around 4 AM, when I wake up and have the nightly debate over whether I am awake because I have to go to the bathroom or whether, since I am awake, I should just get up and go to the bathroom.  There are compelling arguments to be made by each side in this negotiation.  I should just automatically get up and go before the discourse rages within me.  Typically, the getting up option is triumphant, so I take care of business and crawl back into bed, only to be wide awake.  Again, the names and uniform numbers of the Yankees, or the names of magazines swirl around to distract me.  Often the TV goes on again.  I’ll watch “House Hunters” in the middle of the night and fall asleep just as the homeowners are about to reveal their preference. Then I wake up, rewind and start the process over, minus the Yankee roster.

Stage 3:  I’m awake again, having seen the 6^th airing of ESPN’s SportsCenter, but I am groggy enough not to know who beat whom.  So now the big decision is where to sleep.  I live alone, so this is a multiple choice question.  In the winter, I like to be bundled up under the covers, but in the summer, I will often flip to the end of the bed, with only a throw blanket on me.  I feel like sleeping on my side, but then my shoulders get sore, so I get on my stomach instead of the original sleeping on my back position, and settle in, asking myself, “Is this a sleeping position?”  If the position is only to allow me to get a better view of the TV, that’s not really accomplishing my goal.  There is yet another option.  I could always sleep in the recliner.  I have one downstairs in my family room and its exact twin resides in my bedroom.  Since I seem to fall asleep quite easily in the chair downstairs, I figure that maybe I can slip into that REM upstairs, too.  Sometimes this works, maybe because by now all of the debating has worn me out – which should help put me to sleep.  At least living alone means I am not disturbing anyone else’s sleep.  There is a chance I inherited this problem from my father, who apparently was all over his bed.  My mother, the late, great Sylvia Gordon, used to say to him the next morning in her inimitable style, “Lester, you were flipping around like a flounder in that bed last night.” 

I have to admit castigating myself for all of this thought processing, and for having no problem whatsoever falling asleep at inappropriate times and places.  Put me in a classroom or at a lecture where I am extremely interested in the subject and I will fall asleep.  On a plane, unless someone is bumping into me as they go down the aisle, I will typically put on headphones, listen to relaxing classical music and fall asleep.  I inevitably fall asleep if I am watching the movie on the plane.  Once, before the movie started and before we even took off, I fell asleep.  Do you suppose anyone would object to my sitting on an airplane at night by myself, just to get some shuteye?

Then there is my penchant for falling asleep at the movies on the ground.  When I watched “The Aviator,” I wondered why I never saw Cate Blanchett as Katharine Hepburn.  Later I realized I had slept through that part.  In the movie “Doubt,” just at the critical moment when Meryl Streep confronts the priest about molesting the students in the Catholic school they run, I fell asleep.  I had my own bout of doubt as a result.  I have also fallen asleep on a tour bus in Paris, at plays – and I mean musicals, not just stage plays – and watching TV with friends.  But in my special “Heavenly Bed?”  No such luck. 

I’ve tried it all.  I have a sound machine, but it seems too loud.  That’s odd, considering that ESPN is pretty loud when they are showing some highlight, and yet that doesn’t help, either.  I have some medication I can take, but if you wake up in the middle of the night, you don’t want to take anything that will make you drowsy all day.

And then there is the dream aspect of sleeping.  How many times I have awakened from a bad dream and have been afraid to go back to sleep for fear of continuing that dream?  (PS – That never happens.)  On the flip side, I’ll awake from having a great dream and try to get back to sleep so I can see how it ends.  Forget it.  Once I wake up, it’s over.  And so is my sleep.

I know this is not just my problem.  How many times have I talked to friends who lament the same pattern:  “I was up at 4 this morning,” one will say.

“You should have called,” I’ll reply.  “I was awake.”

Back when I worked, setting the alarm was obligatory.  Now, I set it but I am almost always up long before it goes off.  And who among us hasn’t noticed that when we know we MUST get up, we could sleep all day, but when you have the day off, you are up at the crack of dawn?

I’ve been playing Words With Friends lately, and normally I check to see if my opponents have taken their turns when I get out of bed.  One morning around 4 AM I was wide awake and turned on my phone.  I noticed that a friend of mine had played, so I took my turn.  Almost immediately I got a message from her:  “Can’t sleep?”

Join the club.