— At tonight’s local GOP Christmas reception, several Republican heavy hitters put on a full-court press, trying to convince me to run for public office in 2006. It’s nice to know I’m on the short list, but the timing couldn’t be worse.
— While we’re on the subject of politics, I was happy to learn that Seth was elected Governor for the 2006 session of the Kentucky Youth Assembly (YMCA). Couldn’t have happened to a better man. Congratulations!
— I surprised myself at the pool today, coming within a second of my 50-yard PR. I haven’t even been practicing my sprints lately, so I don’t know what to make of it.
— Just had to hit the chuck wagon for second helpings, watching the “Firefly” pilot again to catch things I missed on the first viewing. I realize now that I was totally hooked by the time Kaylee got shot and willingly chomped down hard on the barb when I saw Zoe with her “mare’s leg.” I guess Joss Whedon has my number, and Brendan was the first to know it!
— Although I’ve never included John Lennon on my list of personal heroes, when I look back on his art, cultural innovations, and powerful position as a generational role model, I have to consider that he probably had a more profound influence on my life than I’d care to admit. 25 years?
— Bruce is dealing with some post-op pain, but says he’s feeling better every day. They took out the “rubber band drain” in his back, another good indication of progress. I hope he improves enough to be settled back in his home by Christmas.
We watched the “Firefly” pilot last night. This is from the box that Brendan loaned to us, and I want him to kindly tell me this is not the only group of available episodes.
There’s got to be more than this one little packet.
Please, please tell me there are more…
Dana and I decided to just go all the way with a “biopic grand slam,” and so we borrowed “Ray” from the library. Every so often I watch an Oscar-winner at work (Nicolas Cage in “Leaving Las Vegas” comes to mind) and I think, “Is this truly a performance that deserved an Academy Award?” This was definitely not one of those times. I’ll leave it to others more gifted than me to characterize Jamie Foxx’s phenomenal achievement.
As far as the movie goes, it makes “Beyond the Sea” look anemic by comparison—the difference between an obvious indie project and a big commercial picture with the highest production values. “Ray” is one of the best sounding Hollywood products in recent memory. The sound mixers deserved their awards every bit as much as the lead actor. Superbly directed, designed, and edited, the film is a technical masterpiece, but was it a better picture than “Million Dollar Baby?” No—because Clint delivers the full package that your heart is yearning for when you choose a movie like this. “Ray” has its moments—quite a few, and they’re exceptional—but failed to sustain a deep emotional connection for me. I cared more about whether Johnny Cash overcame his addiction in “Walk the Line,” and I really don’t think it was a function of who Ray Charles was or how good a job Jamie Foxx did.
I’ll continue to contemplate the similarities and contrasts of the four musical biographies I’ve discussed in my last two entries, and why one or another excelled in a particular area. In any case, each one of them is well worth the time, but now I plan to accept a couple new assignments in the spare-time department—the complete “Firefly” collection plus an early Paul Watkins novel…
It was quite interesting to watch “Walk the Line” and “Beyond the Sea” back to back. I found Spacey’s motion picture more cerebral, given a nontraditional structure remarkably similar to “De-Lovely,” which I thought was also very entertaining. Actually, both Porter and Darin were consummate American “feel-good” entertainers and their tribute flicks should come off accordingly. Kline and Spacey have just about cornered the market on “do-anything” talent in Hollywood, and I suppose that’s why Joaquin Phoenix blew me away with his wide-ranging portrayal, because I honestly wasn’t expecting him to be so outstanding in the role.
The Johnny Cash story hit me more at the gut level, just as it was intended to do, I believe. Everything about the movie was clearly geared to creating a powerful sense of intimacy. I’ve never been a Johnny Cash fan, so maybe that enables me to be convinced that Phoenix pulled off a monumental challenge with superb skill and dramatic fluency. If so, he’s elevated his stature to the upper tier in his generation and will surely be rewarded with ample nominations for top awards. I hope the same is true for
Reese Witherspoon. Show me something this young woman cannot do. I thought it might take a while to see another highly versatile actress grow up on the screen like Jodie Foster did, but here she is. I’d love to see her in a production with Foster, Laura Linney, or Jennifer Jason Leigh, but somebody has to be able to write a screenplay worthy of the sheer incandescence. And, of course, there’s always Broadway. Just wait. We’ll eventually see her tackle that, too. One thing is for sure—you’ll no longer see anyone do a biopic of a famous singer without personally recreating all the music.
Speaking of growing up on the screen, Kate Bosworth reminds me of a young Lynda Day George, with a pinch of WKRP-era Loni Anderson mixed in. I don’t remember her in “The Horse Whisperer,” and I’ve missed all her other films, so it was a treat to watch her so ably inhabit Sandra Dee… well, to watch her—period. She’s impressive. Now I’m looking forward to seeing if she makes us forget all the other Lois Lanes of the past 60 years.
I’ve gone on long enough. I don’t even have time to be watching movies, much less ramble about them, so let me just close with this:
As much as “Beyond the Sea” is a mental movie and “Walk the Line” is an emotional one, I find that it’s the Johnny Cash lyrics that I continue to mull over in my mind, and it’s the Bobby Darin melodies that I feel like whistling cheerfully throughout the day.
One of the world’s most dangerous rebels has been blown up in a remote tribal region of Waziristan—Hamza Rabia, the No. 5 or No. 3 senior man (depending on who’s doing the ranking) in the al-Qaida terrorist network. Unidentified sources report that the explosion was the result of an air attack from multiple robot craft.
The Terminators are on the move. Thank goodness they’re under the control of the good guys. Let’s all pray it stays that way.
Someday I’ll have to detail the story of how Dana and Pam, exasperated by the red tape and bureaucratic idiocy of the Medicaid system, decided to pick up the phone and call the Governor of Indiana. Long story short—his office cut through the nonsense and Bruce got the help he needed. My take on it was, “This is how government should work when government doesn’t work.”
Not long after that happened, I read George Will’s column about Mitch Daniels and the possibility that what he’s doing with Indiana state government is the wave of the future in the political world. I suddenly had this consuming desire to reassess my role as a Kentucky Commissioner—to develop a comprehensive vision and philosophical position with respect to my advocacy of bicycle and pedestrian issues. If I don’t have a coherent stance in support of non-motorized infrastructure enhancements, I run the risk of coming off as just another pork-barrel Republican or free-spending Democrat. I have to be able to articulate the advantages of increased exercise as a disease-reducing activity worthy of public investment versus the unchecked explosion of costs to maintain the Medicare/Medicaid entitlement promised to aging baby-boomers.
The way I see it, we have a window of opportunity to be proactive. If we don’t address the current and future demand side of the equation, we’ll never be able to handle the supply side commitments without screwing our combined standard of living and quality of life in America. We’ve concocted a scheme to overwhelm a health-care system that’s already too expensive (read my log entry from Thursday).
I’ve got to make sense of this. Maybe it could become a Clan project!
• Uncle Jerome could summarize the latest empirical evidence on exercise.
• Caitlan could investigate the macro-economic cost/benefit relationships.
• Brendan could explore how to communicate the practical aspects of alternative transportation.
• Ian could reinforce it all with an easy-to-digest philosophical paradigm that would fit on a 10th Planet T-shirt!
Relax, Uncle John… You’re really getting carried away this time.
I was mildly freaked out when Ian told me on Thanksgiving that he ordered “The Forger” based on my recommendation at this site. I hope he’s not disappointed. One never knows if another will have a response to a work of fiction similar to one’s own. I think he may find interesting the parallel between a young man living alone in Paris and his own solitary travel to an unfamiliar city.
But Halifax had it easy. He only had to deal with the Gestapo.
— Month of November workout totals: Swim-7; Bike-0; Run-3; Lift-0; Yoga-0
— If I keep up this exercise pattern, I won’t be able to call myself a triathlete any more. It’s interesting that during these weeks of low-grade anxiety and stress, I’ve fallen back primarily on what was my “boyhood sport.” Since those days of backyard family fun and our frigid plunges at Dunn’s pool, swimming has always been my favorite physical activity. (Don’t tell anybody on the Bicycle Commission!) More than that, being a lifeguard enabled me to escape unpleasant fast-food and grocery jobs, providing a foundation of employment during my youth until I developed entry-level creative skills. Truthfully, I never understood why a young guy would want to work all day when he could build a nice tan while observing pretty girls in bikinis.
— Dana and I were badly in need of some soul nourishment, so we visited the Indianapolis Museum of Art this morning before our stop at the hospital. The special exhibition we “accidentally” found out about and then had to see—International Arts and Crafts—was even more astonishing than we’d hoped for. It was so phenomenally well-done, I have to think back to the famous Tutankhamen or Impressionist exhibitions, or my experiences at the Van Gogh, Rodin, or Tate galleries in Europe, to find any parallels. This one will stick with me for a long, long time and open up many new areas of personal investigation. The
Speed Museum was still open when we came through Louisville tonight, so we caught about an hour of Mary Ann Currier. Fortunately, her stunning work can be appreciated purely at the sensory level, because the show at the IMA had thoroughly exhausted my capacity for intellectual delight.
— I can’t get over the costs involved in maintaining Bruce‘s extraordinary care. Prior to his recent surgery I saw him get a 1-ml intramuscular injection that carried a $1,000 price tag. That’s a million dollars a liter, for cryin’ out loud! The night before we came home, the lab prepared a bag of custom-mixed IV nutrition that was worth $1,500, but for some unknown reason Bruce refused to take it. Certain people were not very happy about that. I’m beginning to think his months-long iron will is morphing into a bored, laid-back stubbornness. He needs to get out of the frickin’ hospital.