There
are times, such as with my misunderstanding of the movie I saw yesterday, when
I completely miss the intent of
something. The good thing is I’m not
afraid to admit when that happens. In
fact, I embrace those moments, for they provide opportunities for me to learn
new things. There are some who would
stick to their original opinion, regardless of having had it proven to them how
off base it was. Not me. I’m human.
Freely admit such. And…I embrace
that humanness. Couldn’t imagine being
perfect. Having all the information I
might ever need. Or getting things right
each and every time. So, in my
humanness, I make mistakes. Which is
fine, for that allows me the chance to admit my mistakes, further embrace my
imperfections and strive to improve.
Friday, June 15, 2012
I
saw movie tonight and was utterly disappointed by it. What movie did I see? Prometheus. From the advertisements, it looked to be a
promising flick. And it was…for the
first thirty minutes or so. Long enough
to ensure that audience members couldn’t exit the theatre and get a refund from
the box office.
Looking
around the theatre before the show began, I was stunned and excited to see that
all but a handful of seats were taken.
It was fun to be in an almost full theatre again. That hasn’t happened in a long while. Mostly, I attribute the latter to the poor
state of he economy. Course, the dismal
feeling that seeped over me during the movie made me feel bleak about the full
theatre.
When
leaving a movie, the best part of said movie shouldn’t be that you’re leaving
it. Looking around the theatre once the
lights came back on, I wondered if others felt as cheated by the movie as I
had. I’d say a good number did. Though there were still those who appeared as
though they’d gotten their money’s worth.
Hmmm….
In
my opinion, this movie cheated audience members with every possible angle, up
to and including “stealing” images from past movies, “borrowing” themes from
other movies and overall just plain insulting the intelligence of moviegoers.
Now
before you get upset, I’m fully aware that Prometheus
wasn’t meant to be some profound movie whose lasting impression was going to
alter the lives of those who watched it.
But I did expect to see originality, as the trailers had promised. Instead, what those trailers showed were the
best parts of the movie. The rest…well,
if you’ve seen other alien creature movies over the past two decades, then save
yourself the expense and frustration of bits and parts of those very movies
regurgitated at you on the big screen under the guise of being an original
movie—Prometheus.
Leaving
the theatre, I found myself questioning: is this what entertainment has come
to—the dummying down of storylines, cheating audience members and also mindless
dribble with shock factors, all blended together into a disappointing two-hour
span?
A
number of years back, I realized the direct correlation between intelligent TV
programs and how they’d get cancelled almost before they began. What took their timeslots? Mindless dribble shows that are full of chaos
and or programs whose “storylines” treat viewers as if they have the
intelligence of slugs.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
In
my ongoing quest to amuse, entertain and enlighten readers with sayings I find
on fortune cookie slips, here’s one that made both my youngest son and I not
only laugh but scratch our heads in puzzlement.
So what did it say? A carrot a
day may keep the doctor away.
Hmmm….
My
son got the most puzzled look on his face when he read this fortune. Noticing his look, I asked what it said. Rather than read it to me, he passed it to
me. Reading it myself, I, too, looked
puzzled. Both of us questioned aloud,
what the heck…?
Now
as I’ve experienced them, fortune cookie saying fall into one of several
categories: philosophical, predicting the future or downright
don’t-know-what-the-heck-they-were-thinking.
Not sure in which category this fortune would fall. Can’t say I’ve ever gotten the
an-apple-a-day-bit-of advice from a fortune cookie before. Does this mean the fortune implies what will
happen?
Hmmm….
Perhaps
this fortune is a hybrid that falls in none of the above-mentioned
categories. Instead it could be a
mixture of two: predicting the future and also the
don’t-know-what-the-heck-they-were-thinking ones.
LOL.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
As
a writer, one of the best tools to hone my writing and editing abilities is to
read. As a little girl, I couldn’t stand
to read. Where others found that words
and phrases easily flowed into one another, I struggled to sound out words,
which ruined their intended flow. What I
ended up with was a clunky, disjointed rambling of words that made little
sense. Just to get that from my reading was a huge effort.
It
wasn’t until I was ten that I fell in love with reading. My stepfather, aware of my difficulties with
reading, came into my bedroom one Saturday morning, holding a copy of a book,
the title of which I couldn’t see. He
suggested I read the book, believing that I’d fall in love with the action,
intense storyline and raw human qualities of the characters. At first, I was going to resist, but then I
saw the sincere look on his face.
My
stepfather knew me probably better than anyone.
He was aware of what things would excite a level of unbridled enthusiasm
in me. And when I looked into his eyes,
his hand outreached, offering me the book, I saw that he didn’t just think this particular book would excite
me. He knew it would.
The
book he offered was The Cay, written
by Theodore Taylor. Where once I thought
to resist, a warm acceptance made me smile, and I took the offered book. My stepfather told me he hoped I’d enjoy it
and then left my room.
When
my stepfather had entered the room, I’d been sitting in my beanbag chair, my
legs crossed under me, buried in the depths of the chair. That was the position I remained in as I
opened the book and began reading. From
the very first page, I was mesmerized.
As my stepfather had predicted, the action, intense storyline and raw human
qualities of the characters whisked me away to another world.
It
was through those written words that a magical thing happened. No longer was I clumsy with trying to sound
out words. In fact, there were very few
that I wasn’t able to read straight off and have flow together into a wonderful
woven tapestry of complete comprehension.
Hours
passed. I flipped page after page,
reading faster than ever before and with an insatiable appetite. Words flowed easily, my brain processing
them—completely. Characters came
alive. I related to their anguish and
cheered them on to overcome their prejudices so they could work together to
make it safely to the other side of their trials.
Lunchtime
came and went. I didn’t eat. The only nourishment I needed was to continue
digesting the words I read. Dinnertime
arrived and with it I was required to abandon my reading to join the family to
eat. Trying to extricate myself form my
beanbag chair proved a chore, for my legs had not only grown stiff from being
in the same awkward position for hours on end, but had also gone numb. With pins and needles shooting their way
through them, sending electrifying messages that I should really think to move
my legs more often, I made my way in to join the others for dinner,
One
look at my face and my stepfather knew the amazing gift of reading he’d given
me. He watched me wolf down my food and
wash the dinner dishes with my sister in utter silence, my mind playing over
the incredible world I’d been made privy to through the pages of The Cay.
Finishing
the dishes, I bolted back to my bedroom and resumed my leg-numbing position in
my beanbag chair—my favorite way to sit in it.
I was delighted with the progress I’d made in the book. By then, I’d read more than three quarters of
it. With renewed enthusiasm and a
determination not to be outdone, I dove into those remaining pages, confident
that I’d finish The Cay before my
bedtime arrived.
I
did. With a half hour to spare, I again
unfolded my legs with the greatest care, from my chair and headed out to find
my stepfather, book in hand. I found him
in the family room, watching TV. Hearing
me approach, he looked up. The moment he saw me, his face broke into a broad
grin that melted my heart.
I
hurried to him, stammering and stumbling over my words as they attempted to out
do one another in a rush of enthusiasm.
With my eyes beaming, heart pounding and mind racing, I attempted to
express to my stepfather how awesome the book had been. How I was thrilled I’d finished it…and in one
sitting. I’d never done that
before. With great patience and deep
appreciation, my stepfather sat and listened to me. And when I tried to give the book back to
him, he pushed it back towards me and said, “Keep it. You earned it!”
I
still have that book—one of my favorites, to this day! It sits proudly on the top shelf of one of my
bookcases. Every now and again, I take
it off that shelf and flip through the pages, marveling over what an incredible
gift of reading my stepfather offered me.
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