Alone Season 6 Episode 5 (Spoilers)

Naturally Alone skipped a week for Independence day in the US, so this is where we learned whether Justin actually nailed the moose when he fired the arrow at the end of episode 4. There was some waiting for the beast to expire, but yes. This is a huge first for Alone. Part of it’s location and what’s available and legal. Part of it’s skill.

We’re getting a fascinating look at carving up a moose with a multitool and then processing and safekeeping the meat to maximize what keeps and what doesn’t get swiped by critters.

Contrast this to the contestant who proudly brought no bow and arrows, being a student of the show and knowing it’s traditionally useless. I was struck by most of them bringing that this year due tot he change of venue and better availability of non-fish.

Impressive of the two women who got rabbits. I thought one of them had snare loops that looked too large, but I’ve never even tried snaring so what do I know. Also, the hare she got turned out to be pretty big.

Notably, nobody went home and nobody as yet got obviously sick from what they’ve eaten. I wondered when the cramp attack happened if that was connected to the large numbers of berries. Man I hate cramps! Normally I get them in my legs. Not often, luckily. However, I recently had them in my torso. WTF!? The worst time I had them in a calf it felt like the muscle turned inside-out and it felt wrong for months afterward.

The previews! It looks like we’re getting a repeat of the shelter fire, but maybe more so. Or the editors made it look worse than the first time. Seriously, it looked like she might have lost the whole shelter. I guess we’ll see next time. Also, given that they seem to go for 10-11 episodes, we’re halfway there. At about 23 days, we’ve lost three and seven remain, Guaranteed one or two go next time. Well, thinking abut it, if episode 10 is a double episode finale that starts with three remaining, we have 4 to lose before then, and 4 episodes to lose them in.

Barring unforeseen problems, moose dude looks like a winner. At least a  finalist.

Not so sure about wolverine hunter with the shelter I looked at skeptically before he planned to improve it but got diverted. I’m surprised more of them haven’t insulated to the hilt. I suppose if you keep a fire inside, not as much need. Long as it’s protective enough from wind and elements. It’s bad, though, when snow comes way into the shelter, up to your sleeping bag.

Good episode.

The Cutting Edge

Watched The Cutting Edge on Amazon Prime last night. It’s the umpteenth time I’ve seen it, but it had been a while. Between me and the wife, Three copies of it came into the marriage. She grew up partially in Minnesota. We, and her family, sometimes quote it as if it were The Princess Bride or something.

Naturally I like it because it’s a romantic comedy, albeit more dramatic than some. However, I have always loved figure skating. My father loved it and I grew up with that. Everyone but me ice skated, to some degree, on the bogs. They used my physical problems and the presumption I’d be unable to do it as a reason not to spend the excessive money skates for me would have cost. It was roller skating that my father competed in, in roller dancing pairs. He also played ice hockey, which did a number on his knee.

Throw figure skating and romance together and it’s all over. Funny thing is, I remember hearing about the film when it was in production and being intrigued but skeptical. I never went to see it, catching it years later on video.

I still love it, but I don’t find Moira Kelly as attractive as I once did. Rachelle Ottley is still pretty awesome, though. I remain surprised that D.B. Sweeney didn’t have a bigger career.

If any girl had behaved toward me the way Kate did to Doug initially, it would have been all over. Sadly, that became my mental image of girls at an early enough age to stick. They also didn’t have to be that way all the time. Once was enough. It’s like reputation. Once destroys it. Building it takes Every Single Time without that Once. I try to be understanding of root causes when I see that now, but it’s not so easy when you’re younger.

Heck, I can think of an example offhand, even though she’s nobody I ever found attractive. She would have helped establish the broader negative impression. My 4th grade crush, in what could have been a Melody-like scenario, had a single friend in town. That friend’s father went on the destroy my woods and build on the land around us. To my crush, that girl was awesome. I saw her as a bitch who hated me, notably around 6th grade. I find it hard ever to think of her any other way, and was shocked when she saw me at an event in another town a couple years later and greeted me with enthusiastic friendliness. When I think of writing a Melody-like story based on my youth, someone analogous to her would probably be a character and I find it hard to picture her as helpful and sympathetic. And yet sleeping over her house was how my crush got some time out of the home environment with her town drunk father.

I digress. I really love The Cutting Edge. I’m liable to watch it a dozen more times before I expire. Granted, I’ve already watched Melody more, and Moonrise Kingdom twice if you don’t count the large portion of it I’d seen via clips. It may have been considered cheesy, but to me it’s a classic.

Muskrat Vengeance

Season 6, Episode 2 of Alone. This will be spoilers, probably, even if I am vague.

The title of the episode is “Tainted,” which sets it up that something associated with that will play a role. Clever editors that they are, they create the question of which thing it might be. We already wondered from last week about the mushrooms tainted with mouse turds. Clever, putting traps in that area, knowing it’s a popular rodent hangout.

One of them cuts her hand, pretty deeply. This might normally want a stitch or three, but in the end appeared to be coming along fine. It could yet be an issue.

In the first episode, it seemed like food wasn’t a big deal. But maybe it’s just that the gill net was a far better idea than it sounded. Now we see people already not eating because lack of fish in particular.

But wait! Here’s a trout, finally. Look at those parasites. Hey, I’ll cook it thoroughly. Will the fish cause a problem by being tainted? Or will the cut be tainted?

Now Donny gets a muskrat. Of all things! This bring back memories of my childhood, and a muskrat we played with by cranberry bogs in a neighboring town. It lived at the edge of the reservoir. I was pretty young and don’t remember much besides it was cute. We entertained ourselves while my mother worked.

Poor thing, through the head. So he butchers it and goes over the things to do and look for so it’s not tainted. Scent glands begone! Check the innards, no spots on the liver. To me it goes without saying to cook it well, and it looked like it was cooked just short of charred.

Two hours later… The pain! Man, it looked horrible. Well, poor guy never recovered and did the right thing. It did answer a question I’d always had: What if you’re on medication? He was too sick to take the meds he’s on as a result of his heart attack a year earlier. While some of that stuff may sometimes be questionable, and an overreaction if you haven’t had a heart attack and they just suspect you could, better to be safe, especially in that severe of a case. What makes me wonder about just what the “taint” was is he complained about all his joints hurting, after a while. I haven’t tried researching yet, and haven’t watched any YouTube folks who might have done so.

I thought the fishing raft with the found barrel was clever. Not so much when I interpreted “raft” as something she’d ride on and was saying “don’t fall in, not here.” But the idea of it holding lines and drifting out deep enough to maybe catch something, then be pulled in, that’s great.

And None On The Wife’s Side

If the eldest’s DNA results are any indication. We had no American come back on my mother’s, even though we “know” there’s Wampanoag. We had none come back on mine, seemingly ruling out that as an unknown but sometimes suspected element on my father’s side.

Now my daughter’s results are in, and fascinating within the realm of the expected. Despite even more muted suspicions on her side, if these results are indicative, no Indian on my wife’s side either.

45% England, Wales and Northwestern Europe
29% Ireland and Scotland
16% Germanic Europe
6% Norway
4% Sweden

While my mother showed a trace of Germanic, I showed none. My father-in-law is of Mennonite ancestry, mainly via Switzerland. If anything, Germanic could have been higher.

My wife had a Swedish great grandmother who lived on the Norway side of the border before coming to the US. This is about as expected for Scandinavian.

My wife has ancestry from Country Cork, specifically, so the kid has a great share of what amounts to Celtic DNA than I do, between mine that’s heavy on the Scottish and hers that’s heavy on the Irish. In fact, the breakdown actually suggests that Irish and Germanic may be my wife’s biggest components.

In the kid, English et al are diluted from my 74% down to 45%. At a crude computation, it implies that the wife might be 16% on that count.

It would be interesting to see what my wife actually registered on a test, and the same for my father.

 

Really… NO Little Indians

I got my Ancestry DNA results. My mother’s shows no American, seemingly eliminating the Wampanoag ancestor we know is there. Mine shows no American, seemingly eliminating the possibility of a not entirely surprising or unsuspected but by no means definite surprise on my father’s side.

Mine is even vaguer than hers, and I’m not even quite sure just what it suggests about my father’s side beyond that he is even more English than my mother and less Celtic than my mother. The traces of Germanic and Scandinavian hers showed disappeared in mine, which is margin of error stuff. Mine shows a few percent French, on the other hand, but the wider area covered by “French” includes most of Spain, the northern half of Italy, part of Portugal, Switzerland, and some other small countries. Frankly (ha!), I’d have expected that more on my mother’s side.

Anyway, I got 74% England, Wales and Northwestern Europe, 23% Ireland and Scotland, and 3% French. My mother, by comparison, was 55% and 36% on the first two where we overlap, plus 6% Germanic Europe and 3% Norway.

My uncle is in there and I found you can see what components your matches include, if not the percentages. His is the same elements as hers except no Norway. That’s the way these things end up varying. So it’s not as simple as to figure my father’s would show 5% French because I must have gotten that from him. If it were that simple, extrapolating from me on the main ones… My father would be 10% Ireland and Scotland, and… I can’t have figured that right, because the math doesn’t work. No, it does, if French isn’t a factor. He’s be 88% England, Wales and Western Europe. I know my mother’s side is far more Scottish than his, but I’d be surprised if his broke down tot hat little. Sadly, I can’t imagine getting him to do the test, even if I buy it for him.

I haven’t gotten the results for the offspring, mailed the same day, and that should also be interesting.

My conclusion is that the DNA tests are remarkably vague and are a marketing tool to get people to subscribe to extremely expensive other services. The prices I see there are completely haywire budget busters.

Nearly Married Bobby Browning

I picked out “Nearly Married” to watch on Prime Video. Turns out it was released in 2016 as Where Are You, Bobby Browning? The new title is certainly appropriate, arguably more so.

It was so funny! It poked fun at the Lord of the Rings, renfair, and to some degree Wiccan crowds along the way. I didn’t check Rotten Tomatoes, but looks like it’s pretty low rated at IMDB.

In some ways, it covered the romantic comedy tropes, and those associated with just past teen years ages, neatly. In some ways, it veered in different directions, especially toward the end where it earned the revised title.

The big takeaway for me: Where has Cassi Thomson been all my life? She is the most adorably beautiful woman I think I’ve seen in a romantic comedy since perhaps Meg Ryan at the height of her powers. She just lights up a room with a look and a smile.

I was super impressed, in a different way, with Olivia Grace Hunter as Victoria, the strange girl who watered plants with antifreeze and dryly asked inappropriate things like the way people preferred to die.

Matt Dallas was good as Bobby Browning, and the chemistry between him and Cassi was great.

I loved Burtie, played by Segun Oduolowu, in a young version of the wise old black man role combined with the observant and sometimes unintentionally funny foreigner role.

I’d like to think that if I’d had a Maddie, I’d have recognized and done something about it, especially if her feelings were that apparent. I’d also like to think she and I would have found ourselves even if we were together early. There’s a planet core of truth to the proposition that being set free can give strength. Then again, I never found strength in never being “encumbered” that way. If anything, it was a distraction from finding myself, thinking I needed to find her and worse, not knowing how or daring to try whether I knew how or not. But I digress.

I’d say I cringed at times, but I always cringe at times. I feel too much as if am the character and am in the embarrassing or traumatic or emotional situation. I feel things too much.

Overall, it was fun and delightful, and I could watch Cassi, at least playing Maddie, all day. Samantha Cope as Blake is a bonus.

I meant to say also that I kept trying to figure out who Maddie reminded me of! It was driving me crazy. I’m not sure if it’s someone I have known, or an actress, or what. She reminded me a little of someone I worked with in 1993, but I don’t think that’s the exact or only match that was tickling at my brain.

Desperado

This is an easy one for favorite song by a band. In this case, The Eagles, who I consider a bit overrated. Heresy! Not that I don’t enjoy some of their music, but I just don’t think they are All That.

That said, this is probably the single most “my song” song that there is, in terms of relating to it and feeling that it describes me.

Funny thing is, I adored the Linda Ronstadt version long before I knew it was a cover of an original by the Eagles, or heard that version. Weird, huh? Appropriate, though, for her to be covering songs by her old backup band members who eclipsed her in fame. So there is no way I could ever dislike her version, but I came to prefer the Eagles.

No Little Indians

My mother got an Ancestry DNA test for Christmas and never activated it and sent it in. A few weeks ago, I activated it for her and helped her with getting the sample sent in. Overnight the results came in. I’d used one of my e-mails, so I saw it right away.

Subsequent to getting hers done, my phone heard me talking about it and caused Facebook on my computer to advertise a Mother’s Day special to me for an unprecedented low price for the tests. We’re talking just over half the norm.

My oldest had wanted to do one and suggested I do one, which was funny because I had been thinking of it. I’d been leaning toward using a different service that might have better results, but Ancestry does strike me as good in terms of numbers of people who’ve used it, if you want to pursue genetic matches.

I ordered two, since it was so cheap, and ours went in not two weeks after my mother’s went in. I figured it’d be fascinating in that I could extrapolate my father from my results versus my mother’s, and could extrapolate my wife’s from my results versus my daughter’s. Now, these aren’t in yet. That’s be super exciting.

My mother’s results are basically what I would expect, with one exception. All my life, we have “known” that one of the multiple Seth Howlands in her lineage, circa 3-5 generations back from her, pissed off his family by marrying a Wampanoag.

The results? 55% England, Wales and Northwestern Europe, 36% Ireland and Scotland, 6% Germanic Europe, and – a mild surprise but easy to account for via British Isles if nothing else – 3% Norway.

Wait, what? No North American? No. And while it’s possible through the foibles of DNA inheritance, it can be there in a small amount in the family tree but not show up, it tends to indicate that the Wampanoag story is just that: a story.

If mine has North American in it, on the other hand, it would give credence to the rumored and speculated by not “known” presence of Native North American in my father’s father’s side, whether through his mother or his father. There have been even more dubious suggestions of African in the mix, explaining my grandfather’s nose and hair. Doubtful, but that would be a cool thing to show up.

I was a little disappointed with the vagueness of the areas represented by the ethnicity regions. Each of those regions has smaller areas, but there is nothing distinct enough to tie her to any of them. They are flagged as going back at least 500-1000 years, I believe was how it described the solid rather than open circles that appeared for each.

I was not surprised, and as such less disappointed than I might have been, about the Indian thing. It’s hardly a surprise.

Summer With Monika

I haven’t watched this movie. I have seen it mentioned in connection with either Melody or Moonrise Kingdom, as an influence. I have watched bits of it, skipping through, online with subtitles in English. I am not sure I care whether I see it. I have read the description of the whole thing, but I’d forgotten it enough to be really struck by the ending when I was unwatching it yesterday.

They aren’t kids, as in other films, but are 19 and 17. She’s no kid, at 17, but she’s certainly a free spirited wild child, near as I can tell.

The bits where they camp out along the water are probably the Moonrise Kingdom connection.

What struck me hard about it was her leaving him and the baby girl at the end. She reminds me so much of the wife, though she never physically left. She, in the terminology I like to use when the woman seduces the man incautiously or intentionally to this end, knocks him up. Actually, this happened to my brother, with the ages reversed. He never got a chance to finish growing up normally, which he needed to do. Or I suppose in a way he grew up too fast, just not completely or normally.

When things weren’t peachy – they were life as it really is – she got angry and showed her crazy side. Not that she hadn’t already, in more fun ways, that summer. She felt stuck in the house while he got to leave. To work to try to support and make things better for them! This is all quite familiar. And to be fair, it’s not easy to be stuck at home with the domestic duties. It’s easy to perceive the one going to work as having it made. It might be tempting, against all logic and self-interest, to try to divert or sabotage that.

It’s possible to leave without leaving. In a surprisingly similar scenario, that’s what happened here. Together, not together. Friends raising kids well, while she strives to have something secure that comes after. No matter how shaky that gets and how much she tries to leave the afterward scenario, it’s like an addiction.

Meanwhile, I see a financial crisis looming in 4 years or so, if not sooner, breaking our stable arrangement. I’m quietly trying to make myself a different future to thwart that. I’ve seen it coming for years. As far as I can tell, she just realized it yesterday. Except the guy who represents security in the future has been a factor too long and she’s held on too hard not to have realized it, so I assume she just mentioned but was long aware of it. Conscious or not, I take it to be her main motivation besides more fun and less drudge. He represents more fun and always did.

But I digress. I see Summer With Monika as pretty sad and depressing. Not the proverbial Hollywood ending. Not the ending where anything could happen and it could be happy as it gets. Not the ending that’s half happy in one regard and might still be happy in another. Not the ending that heals a whole community and is happy for the main pair. Not even the ending where maybe in a few years, when they’re not 13 any more, they can be together.

Little Manhattan (2005)

What a wonderful movie! I discovered this via a forum where Melody was being discussed and other movies came up. It looked like it would be so good that I took a chance and bought it. It doesn’t hurt that Bradley Whitford features as the father of 10 almost 11 year old Gabe, as I am a big fan. Though I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen Whitford play anything other than Josh Lyman, just with different character names and scenarios. Perhaps a bit like William Shatner is always William Shatner, whatever the role.

If you like Melody or Moonrise Kingdom, you will like this. It has kind of a mixed happy ending, pretty much as you expect to get right from the start. If I’d had a Rosemary, I’d have not been 42 when I got married.

The kids were absolutely delightful and well cast. Josh Hutcherson went on to become big. Charlotte Ray Rosenberg, introduced in her first role shades of Tracy Hyde in Melody, was perfect, stunning, and has spent a lot of time doing other things before really continuing an acting career. They were 11 when filming Little Manhattan, and she was his first kiss courtesy of the movie kiss.

The dynamic is different from that of Melody, but wandering free around London and Manhattan aren’t so different. It’s summer, so no classmates for most of the film, unless you count karate class, which is the catalyst. Instead of the ballet class, he falls in love with her when he tags along while she goes dress shopping to be a flower girl at her aunt’s upcoming wedding. In some ways they seem older than the kids in Melody, by being modern. In others, they seem younger, which they are, in screen age. I haven’t tried to figure out when the movie filmed, but these things are typically the preceding year or so before the release year. They were both born in 1992, so turned 13 in the year it released. The fun fact about the first kiss said they were 11 when that happened. By comparison, Tracy and Mark were just 11 and almost 12 during the filming of Melody. The kids in Melody were verging on turning 12. The kids in this one were just 11 and verging on turning 11. Essentially a school year younger than the kids in Melody. Just out of 5th grade for the summer as opposed to being close to getting out of 6th grade for the summer.

There are a lot of differences between this and the other movies. It’s about first love, sort of a coming of age and the realization girls don’t have cooties, whatever those are. It’s also a look at the relationships or would-be relationships of others around them, and at how kids see things, how adults see things, and how adults might just be kids who got older without actually “knowing it all.”

I feel like I shouldn’t say too much because spoilers, and yet it’s been out for 14 years. Just because I never heard of it doesn’t mean it’s new enough for the need of spoiler warnings to apply.

The fantasy elements are funny and sometimes touching.

The film uses the same flash forward thing Moonrise Kingdom does to suck you in with the goldfish right up front. When it gets there in practice and there’s like 20% of the film left, it’s clear that was just a flash forward to a critical point.

It’s nice to see adults take the “love life” of kids that young seriously, and not in an alarmed sort of way. Granted, they neither tried to get married nor ran away together. Her parents effectively taking them on a cool date was awesome. Even more so when, on top of the hand holding opportunity, they actively provided the chance at the first kiss.

I’ve been to New York City – Manhattan – exactly once in my life, for an afternoon. I’ve never been a city person, and in a way I don’t relate to it at all. On the other hand, it’s America’s city, maybe the world’s city, and it was a cool place to visit. This almost makes me want to watch one of my favorite movies, You’ve Got Mail, again. It’s been… at least several years. I’m not even sure I ever got that on DVD. It may have been VHS.

Oh! One cool thing I wanted to mention is the song. They used a cover of Love Grows, which is a natural with a romance featuring a girl named Rosemary. Looks like it’s by someone I’ve never heard of named Freedy Johnston. No offense, and it’s actually pretty good, but the original is one of my all time favorite songs and I still prefer Love Grows by Edison Lighthouse. It almost made me wish I’d loved a girl named Rosemary so the song would fit. There was a Rosemary on elementary school. Nice girl and all, but not someone I’d ever picture as more than my buddy. No idea what ever happened to her. I’ve actually asked people who shared her surname if they were related over the years. There’s also a Rosemary I am acquainted with online, dating back to 2003 through blogging.

One more thing. Watching the trailer after seeing the movie… The trailer is the movie, basically. Extreme Reader’s Digest version, but it’s basically there. You won’t see them go all the way across NYC to look at an apartment his father could potentially move to, or come all the way back, 67 blocks, on a scooter, to find the cops had been engaged because his mother realized he was missing. But it’s the high points, near enough. Really you should watch it all if you can and if you like this sort of thing.

 

 

Alone Season 6

I just watched the handful of contestant profile videos History Channel has up for Alone season 6, which starts June 6. The big thing that struck me was axes. So far, every one of them chose to bring an axe as well as a saw. This is smart because of the prospective need to chop through ice, apart from their other uses. They also brought super cold weather sleeping bags, mostly rated for -40 F.

Two of them brought multitools, which we have seen in other seasons to be a more useful option than they might initially have sounded. At least one of those is customized. It seems like everyone has a bow and arrows of some kind, as this is apparently the friendliest environment the show has been in for hunting. Wire for trapping, too. With the cold environment, food will be more of an issue. The rations a couple of them selected appeared to be something like jerky, as opposed to trail mix, beans or such.

One of the good things the show did along the way was eliminate the de facto need for a tarp to be one of the options, so really each person got nine items. They simply provide a tarp, which you have to stop and think about because that’s not part of these profile videos and would be vital. The more natural debris (or snow) is also part of shelter here, the better, for insulation, but a tarp speeds things up and guarantees a more waterproof and wind resistant shelter up front.

They all seem to be bringing wire for snares/traps, again with the bigger emphasis on hunting. One of them either had no fishing gear or I spaced out when she covered that.

One had a frying pan. Not sure that’s the best idea, even if it holds more. The lid on the standard 2 quart pots the others showed off can be useful. One of them had a lid you could also use as a small frying pan, as well as a dish.

One of them is hardcore enough that she considered not bringing a ferro rod, just using her fire drill instead, but she went with the surer thing. Good choice. It astounds me how easy it is to light a fire with a ferro rod. I’ve had one going at least as quickly as I could have with a match. Even without using magnesium scrapings.

I’m no expert, so it’s a bit funny for me to watch and critique. Take it with some grains of salt. It’s very much armchair, and it’s all too easy to say what you’d do when you’re not in the situation. I have never hunted. I haven’t fished since I was a kid and found it frustrating even though I did catch little sunfish two or three times. Actually, I fished by the Powderpoint Bridge when I was a teenager, with one of my high school classes. No license required for fishing in the ocean. Nobody caught anything.

Every year I wonder how they can possibly get me excited about the show again. Over the years it has seemed more and more a hunger contest. I hope this year is different.

Jeremy (1973)

I mentioned I had stumbled across Jeremy and poked at it a little. Now I’ve actually watched it. Not the best quality, on YouTube, but it was still enough to see how breathtakingly beautiful Glynnis O’Connor was back in the day. No wonder I remember her and Robby Benson’s later film, Ode to Billy Joe, so fondly. It was tragic and gave a good answer to why the dude would have killed himself while there was a blooming romance with the girl, but she just blew me away. I saw that on TV, so if it was a theatrical release, I didn’t see it at the time it came out. I always liked the song, so it was a no brainer.

I might have seen Jeremy, or part of it, somewhere along the line, but been too young relative to the characters for it to leave an impression. It seems familiar. That could be as simple as having caught part of it on TV.

Like Billy Joe, Jeremy is tragic. Before it’s tragic, though, it’s incredibly sweet. I’d say he comes across as way too special needs in some spots, but I’ve been the shy, awkward guy in love and not realizing I could be straightforward, or knowing what to say and how to act. He pushed through it in a way I never managed, so I can’t criticize. He certainly does a good job with kind of the idiot savant role.

Robby Benson is, of course, associated with one of my favorite films of all time, one of the first I bought, even before I owned a VCR myself: Beauty and the Beast. Naturally, right? Me, the hopeless romantic. I just am not on board with sad endings the way I am with happy endings. It is well known that I had a thing for Meg Ryan in her romantic comedy heyday. Just don’t ask me how I felt when I watched City of Angels and found it was a tearjerker. I cry at movies that aren’t meant to be tearjerkers! Melody overlaps the category of romance and of comedy, while being something different. It doesn’t have an overtly unhappy ending, but if you look past “ha ha we had a wedding ceremony” snubbing of the adults, the ending is ambiguous and potentially quite unhappy. Not like the two are running away to a honeymoon suite and then a life on their own.

Anyway, I love the musical aspects. Was anything an homage to Melody? Probably not. There was the school setting and a flurry of madness as kids went to class, but these were older kids. There was the Ornshaw-like best friend of Jeremy’s advising or being a sounding board. Where Daniel was the loner, Susan was the loner here, so Jeremy was everything. Though she did date another boy briefly and that’s apparently where the name Danny came in from her father. Was Suzy in Moonrise Kingdom an homage to Susan? Probably not, but you never know with these things. The seeing her dancing and falling in love was right out of Melody, though she was alone working on her routines.

Overall? I liked it. I found it hard to take the ending and some of the awkwardness. It was too painfully me, except I was worse and never made it to the payoff. There weren’t dates. Any calls were disasters. After I stalked her long enough, Ella, closer to the Melody scenario, did fall for me but then I ran away because that scared me and I didn’t know what to do next. Handling that better, even if it wouldn’t have lasted, would have made it easier, but lack of success, however self-induced, bred lack of success.

I often think it’s good that I lacked success through my teens, given my hyperactive fertility. Not that family history made that a surprise.

Anyway, gotta go to bed. It’s normal bedtime but I have to be up two hours earlier than normal. Meant to get to bed an hour ago.

Moonrise Kingdom Rewatch (Sorry, Melody Kind of Took Over the Post)

I decided to rewatch Moonrise Kingdom last night and, while I liked it the first time, this time found myself feeling delighted when it ended. And I don’t mean in a thank goodness that’s over sort of way.

I don’t have a lot of new observations. I did notice more details, like Edward Norton’s relationship, potential or actual, with the operator being evident throughout. It was more professionally produced than Melody. That was, after all, a first film. Even the director was more of a TV person when he did Melody. MK is meant to be more surreal than Melody.

MK is about broken people and a broken community. What heals Sam and Suzy is each other. The very worst outcome would have been for them to be barred from ever seeing each other again. Melody and Daniel may have clicked and felt more complete together, but so did Ornshaw and Daniel as friends. They would have survived being apart. What heals the community is Sam and Suzy. It was this viewing of Moonrise Kingdom in which I picked up on the meaning of the orchestra record. It talks about the instruments and sections of the orchestra, then how they are amazing when all put together.

Sam and especially Suzy look and seem more mature than Daniel and Melody, though Melody’s apparent age and maturity varies wildly through the film and even within proximate scenes. I have chalked that up in part to filming taking place over four months combined with a high growth age. Melody and Daniel are implicitly on the cusp between 11 and 12. It’s late in what would be 6th grade in the US. A kid at that point in school would turn 12 between September 1 and August 31. Their story centers around the month of May.

Speaking of the timing of Melody, I’ve seen a photo or screen capture of something that was not in the film that has a date on it. The picture is in the music room. Daniel is holding up his cello and using the bow. Melody is standing to the other side of the cello. Her recorder is in her left hand. Her right hand wraps around the neck of the cello from the back to press the strings. Behind and above them and the cello is a plain black and white poster for Iowa String Quartet, from USA, and at the top it says something about April 1 and at the bottom has lists of performances or whatever. The poster is never apparent in the actual scene. Even the thing you can see the bottom of that could be it doesn’t really look like it’s the same.

So was this the kids playing around and someone captured a photo? Was this an alternate idea for a shoot of the scene? I’d actually bet it’s the latter. It strikes me that they had a script, kind of, but they tried this and that, did many takes, then pieced things together. My favorite part where the narrative fails is in the headmaster’s office. Now, that scene famously took all day anyhow. Mark Lester was so unflappable that he was unable to muster the anger required to yell at the headmaster. Even when he did, he sounded more petulant child than properly angry. Or scornful might be the word, not petulant. They may have used what they had to use. However, when Daniel says “we want to get married,” Melody’s head whips sideways to give him a shocked, startled WTF look that has possible interpretations ranging from “why are you telling him that” to “we want to do what” and it’s not clear. It doesn’t fit with her subsequent vehemence about getting married, though.

The music room scene is almost perfect as it is. I am especially taken by 11 year old Tracy capturing the exact same look of confused consternation I can recall seeing on 14 year old Ella along the way. Having a scene where Rhoda goes in to try out and Melody expresses curiosity about the cello would change the dynamic between the two kids. They would have interacted more. She would have had more of an impression of him, perhaps one that led to her declaring him “quite a nice boy, really.” It would have made his playing the cello a more important plot point. Neither that nor painting make an appearance again. Of course, there’s also a picture out there of Jack Wild in Daniel’s room playing with a paintbrush in a scene that wasn’t used. We are just to take it on faith that there was a lot more interaction between the boys. In reality, the time that passed between the day he fell in love with Melody and the day he said it had been a week ought have been longer. Even if not, there ought have been more time from the boys meeting to Melody becoming a factor, but it implies it was almost immediate.

I digress. Funny how Melody takes over.

My point is that I think Wes Anderson knew exactly what he was going to shoot and how he was going to shoot it. There’s always multiple takes to get things just so, but there was probably less shooting of alternative versions than I perceive there to have been for Melody.

Moonrise Kingdom is explicit in describing the kids as 12. It’s the beginning of September, so for the main events of the film, they would be about to start 7th grade, rather than coming up on the end of 6th grade/first form. I think I originally thought they were more dramatically older than the Melody kids, but that may have been when I was confused by a year, after I had worked it out and then forgotten. There is still innocence, but less so. They hang out in their underwear. It’s not just seen sometimes because of absurdly short dresses. They kiss and then French kiss. She remarks on his resulting erection. She invites him to touch her bra-covered breasts and notes that she expects them to grow. They sleep cuddled up together. We have no reason to believe there’s anything more to it.

All we see in Melody is holding hands, an arm around her, an accidental almost kiss, and a lot of smiles and eye talk. There are images out there in which a kiss on a cheek happens in the context of the film and appears to be something filmed and not used. Otherwise the kisses on cheeks are things like publicity and cover photos. They are still on the innocent side of the cusp of teen years. Daniel wants to paint a nude and has a girlie magazine he was given in support of that, but to him he’s doing it as a painting type he’d not tried before. Jack flashes girlie pictures in class, and the boys know that this is a cool and forbidden thing. The age isn’t completely innocent. The girls are boy crazy to varying degrees, even if they don’t all know much more than it takes more than kissing to bring babies. Melody knows darn well why her mother and granny are freaking out about the man in the raincoat story and is being a wise ass. Jack and Daniel jokingly try to sneak into a girlie show at Trafalgar Square. There’s awareness of forbidden fruits. At the same time, Daniel isn’t thinking “I’d like to get naked with her” when he sees and falls in love with Melody. I know exactly what he felt. Been there. Got the scars and memories. I knew hanky panky existed to some degree or another, but got crushes that were pure emotion. Moonrise Kingdom is just a tiny bit farther along the spectrum.

Daniel and Melody aren’t broken the way Sam and Suzy are, but something is missing from their lives. Daniel found that to some degree in Ornshaw, and arguably more vice-versa, which is why Ornshaw was so hurt by Melody coming along. Imagine Melody. Dad is always working or drinking. Mom makes fun of him. Mom and Granny can be overbearing stick in the muds and de facto absentee by turns. There aren’t siblings. The other kids in the building, to whom Melody seems to relate initially, are not her contemporaries. They are poor but do have a relatively happy and stable family life compared to some. Daniel comes from money but has a horrible helicopter mom who, again, can be absentee when she’s not smothering him. His father is indifferent but at least has the good grace to question his wife’s choices of what she puts Daniel through. They fight a lot and it’s a much less happy home, for all there’s enough money. Ornshaw is an orphan being raised by his grandfather, effectively meaning he cares for the grandfather and is raising himself. Sam is the orphan, in MK, while Suzy obviously is the moneyed side of things but with troubled parents. MK doesn’t set out to be  as much about class differences as Melody.

This time around, I made the connection between the reference to electric shock therapy and Sam getting hit by lightning.

The interlocutor was an interesting and potentially annoying addition to Moonrise Kingdom. It helped speed the narrative along and, breaking the forth wall, explained things efficiently at times so they wouldn’t have to be shown or explained any other way. It preserved and even added to the surreal nature of the film.

Melody could have done more with Daniel’s painting. Moonrise Kingdom ran with it. Can you imagine Mrs. Perkins finding a painting by Daniel of her daughter nude in a tub? But then, she might get less excited than Mrs. Latimer would about catching him creating such a painting.

I found the ending satisfying. Melody’s ending is so ambiguous. I love Melody, but it’s Moonrise Kingdom that leaves me believing the kids have a real future together forever. Why does he leave out the window? Is he in fact not supposed to be there? But then, it would be pretty obvious his new foster dad is there to pick him up. As I put it while I was watching MK this time, Melody ends with them running away and you never see the outcome. (Unless you count the day at the seaside as running away.) The meat of Moonrise Kingdom begins with them running away and hijinks ensue. Yeah, it starts well before, when they meet, then become pen pals. I have a soft spot for the pen pal angle. I had a story concept that would incorporate that, based on an actual pen pal. It was my “western hemisphere turns magic” scenario. The hero would go on a quest to meet up with the girl who was his pen pal. On foot, because things like cars wouldn’t work, or would have morphed into creatures. There’s also a lot after they run away. That’s the heart of it, though. Poor, misunderstood kids. Creepy mom, giving 12 year old baby a bath to wash the cooties away.

I forget whatever else I might have meant to say. Melody hijacked Moonrise Kingdom’s post, and time faded my thoughts. I’ve been at this off and on for hours. I did want to note that in my travels yesterday I discovered a move from I think 1974 1973 called Jeremy. It was in relation to Melody stuff, and is an older young romance. High school teens. I haven’t yet watched it, but I pecked at it particularly to see the ballet scene where he sees the girl for the first time and goes all special needs. I related rather painfully, but it’s funny how much like Melody that was. Then there’s the fact he plays cello. But it’s an arts high school, so it’s natural that they have those things. Having read Wikipedia about it, I know that she is new to the school, as Daniel is to the school in Melody. I know the whole thing starts and ends in about a month before she moves away again. I know the relationship gets intense and consummated. I might have seen it along the line when I was younger, and just not had it register the way it might now. I’d have related more to seeing Melody at or before that age.  Actually, that’s a difference between Melody and Moonrise kingdom. If I’d seen MK when I was 10-12, I’d have seen it as fantasy and taken away an entirely different impression. If I’d seen Melody when I was 10-12, I’d have realized I was normal and seen it as something of inspiration and instruction. Speaking of alt history or personal points of departure, if I left absolutely everything the same, but saw Melody in April 1971, my life would have been completely different.

Update:
Note that in Jeremy the girl’s name is Susan (Suzy). Her father can’t remember Jeremy’s name and refers to him as Danny. Amused.

Bushcraft

I added bushcraft as a category because it’s one of my interests, but I haven’t posted about it any more than I’ve practiced it. I end up being more armchair and wishful thinking than practitioner. I watch videos of others. I wish I’d known to take advantage of the opportunity I had when I lived in the middle of the woods when I was a kid. It was some of my early YouTube viewing that led me to Alone when the show was new. I found Mitch Mitchell’s videos and was intrigued because he was obviously local. I could tell by the appearance of the woods where he shot videos, and then one day he had Market Basket matches.

This goes hand in hand with a prepper mindset. That’s something I grew up with. There were the grandparents who’d survived extreme poverty and acted accordingly the rest of their lives. Cue the importance of rotating your canned food and such. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve been through extreme poverty and, by some standards, still am. Then there’s the Cold War mentality that never went away and had terrorism thrown on top of it. It really marks your psyche to grow up with the threat and even the assumption of the nukes raining down any time. As far as we knew there were no prime targets right around us. My grandfather’s employer’s munitions business was a thing of the past. The local testing grounds, secret at the time, were WW2 vintage. Boston and the route 128 region would have been a big target, though, so close enough.

I’m decidedly haphazard about these things. At any given time, as long as water and natural gas or other means of cooking were not an issue, depending on how we rationed it, five of us could go weeks on the food in the house. Take away electricity and we’d end up gorging on what’s in the freezer before rationing through the cabinets, but hey. There are useful things in the vehicles, but perhaps not complete or ideal sets of useful things. I could set up a pretty good camp out of the trunk of the car, for as many people as the car holds, but we’d pretty much be in the clothes on our backs and lacking things like blankets. The truck has less room and I’m less free to stuff things in behind the seats. It’s her baby. Otherwise it might have been replaced by something more practical years ago. Still. I had a scheme to equip it with a survival pack of sorts and just haven’t completed the task yet. A lot of the stuff I have that should be available to do that, or to grab and go from the house, is in “where did I put that” limbo.

That overlaps the set of things I take camping because they’ll be needed or just in case. Some of it’s sitting here in an undersized backpack that’s perfectly nice, but is a lesson in looking at specs when contemplating an Amazon purchase, and figuring out just what those dimensions it list will mean in person. I took it last summer to a friend’s cabin in Maine. I camped in the yard. It’s back up in the woods and on enough land to have been perfect for messing around. Build this or that type of natural shelter. That sort of thing. It was like 100 degrees The Whole Week and nobody wanted to do anything. Except go out to eat and go in the local pond repeatedly, giving myself a great opportunity to get severe swimmer’s ear. The same pond was the location of the July 4 fireworks and a little carnival, which was cool. Kids went on a few rides. Ironic, since we never go to the little carnival that finances the fireworks in our own town. Too expensive. Probably not far removed in cost from the one in Maine. But vacation! In Maine! So that’s different?

I don’t intend to go to the cabin again, even in the unlikely event the chance arises.. I haven’t put in for the vacation time I often take the week of the 4th, and have made no specific plans. It’s been a few years since I took the kids camping at the state forest. Last time it was pretty awful due to an invasion of what you might call city folk. For the kids camping = swimming. I might try going myself for 1-2 night outings just for away time. I may have talked about this when I grumbled about my difficulty focusing. Try doing some writing. Use paper. Otherwise I’d say do a bunch of reading, but reading isn’t as much of a problem. Anyway, the kids are getting old enough to have stronger opinions about going or not, and to be able to stay home if they choose. The youngest doesn’t like camping the way the other two do, and of course the wife simply doesn’t camp. The kids wouldn’t eat the campfire food I made that one time. We end up eating a lot of junk/convenience food or going to the local fast food. Sad.

Rambling aside, I’ve had ideas for a while now about incorporating bushcraft, or simply camping, into fiction. For that matter, the beta of the portion of a book that I started did just that. Kids are about to go camping with their dad when they find themselves in an alternate past, so they have backpacks and a couple things they’re carrying. They find themselves in a swampy woods and make themselves a shelter to sleep in the first night, after some initial exploration and finding a good spot. Complete with a nearby outhouse that existed in real life in that time and place. In our timeline, anyway.

One of the things I think about sometimes is incorporating a “survival” scenario, inspired by my own half-assed prepping and randomness, where you’re stuck getting by with what’s on you, or what’s in your vehicle, rather than with the ideal supplies. Shades of one of the periodic YouTuber scenarios. Lost hunter, all you have is a pocket knife (if that), for instance. Overnight with $10 in supplies picked from a dollar store or Walmart is always fun, but contrived. If I found myself off the road in my car and through hand waving a scenario wasn’t disabled but also couldn’t leave the area by much or get help, I wouldn’t have food and water. I wouldn’t have a pot for boiling water. I’d have more than one tarp and, last I knew, a tent. I’d have a tiny first aid kit and there might be a lighter or matches somewhere. I’d have no spare clothing, blanket or sleeping bag. I’d have a bunch of tools and odd junk. I’d have a folding saw, the key knife in my pocket, a self-lighting Coleman 2 burner propane stove and probably a small thing of propane, and an old propane lantern. There’d be at least two flashlights, some rope and twine, some duct tape, and a bunch of empty soda bottles and cans.  There’d be a dull hatchet. Empty, never used 2.5 gallon gas jug. It’d be downright cushy, entirely aside from any scenario in which you have an intact vehicle meaning you have instant shelter, and an anchor for extending shelter around it given things like tarps.

Then there’s the scenario where I am on foot. I have my keys and the tiny but sharp key knife. I have a pen or two, some pieces of paper towel, the contents of my wallet, and whatever I am wearing. That gets much more rustic.

In the truck there’s a small bag packed with tools, a tiny first aid kit that has a crappy folding knife and some matches tucked in it, maybe a tarp, maybe a trash bag, some rope, some empty bottles and cans, a flashlight or two, and not much else. It’s less roomy to shelter in. Given enough of a tarp, the bed could be covered for an off the ground sleeping shelter. Stuff in some dead leaves?

I’m rambling. It’ll be interesting to see what Alone does with a more northerly location this year. Some of it depends just how late in the year they started filming. I amuse myself sometimes by chastising the contestants, who know and have practiced a lot more than me, for doing silly things, or failing to do things, when I probably wouldn’t make it as far as them. There’s another element of the not fully prepared scenario: Writing it as someone who only has academic knowledge of survival skills.

Well Darn

The best full copy of Melody on YouTube just got taken down. I figured it was being allowed to stay up because nobody really cared. The movie wasn’t exactly a blockbuster, it’s almost impossible to get a legitimate copy, and it’s almost 50 years old. The rights holders have abandoned the thing in all but name. Being available online lets new people discover what they missed because of lousy distributors and marketing.

I haven’t checked for other versions, but I’ve probably linked that one once or twice and now it’ll be broken. Since playing it from the DVD is tenuous, I’ll have to figure out how to port it to digital form for my own convenience. All I was going to do was play the music room scene because I was remembering how much the reactions Tracy portrayed from Melody regarding Daniel were like reactions I got from Ella when we were a couple years older than the kids in Melody. That’s part of why it’s one of my favorite scenes: the realism.

Update:

Technically this is a legitimate takedown, even though it is silly under the specific circumstances. However, it was done by a super sketchy outfit called LeakID, that has a history of false takedowns/copyright claims on material that is, for instance, homemade and copyright the person who posted it. They were so bad, they got fired years ago by a major software company that probably put them on the map by being their big client. That makes it more insulting than might otherwise be the case. If Puttnam, Parker and the production company suddenly decided Melody had more than sentimental value, that would be one thing. It’s entirely possible nobody actually hired LeakID to go after this movie, or after things by whatever entity owns the movie after all this time. Realistically, it’d be out of copyright and in the public domain after this long anyway. Or approaching it, even with a more liberal yet realistic term.

In Dreams

Last night I woke from a dream that took place in the conference room of my old office. Variants of the old office have become one of my standard dream locations. The oddities of what becomes and does not become a dream setting, or influence on dream settings, is the topic of what might become a rambling post.

In the dream that inspired the discussion, I was back there, years after the fact, with some other people I didn’t recognize. There was some problem we were going to fix for the big client that was the reason for the office being where it was. I checked with them that I had the correct password. The rest centered on discussing terms, shades of Bronn, with two scruffy guys and a girl who seemed to speak for them; what they’d do, how they’d be compensated, and whether I’d actually be able to compensate them. Bottom line seemed to be that they’d risk a minor amount of work, but beyond the task at hand, forget it. Perhaps they wanted Highgarden.

The dream reminded me that it’s coming up on an amount of time since I was finished with the last of the last activity around closing that business that will equal the amount of time start to finish for the business. About three years total of the time for the business was before and after the office. I spent a lot of time there and it was pretty personal and distinctive.

It’s not normal for me to have dreams based at places where I worked. It has happened, but it’s been selective.

You would think that places where I spent a lot of time, especially formative time, would be prominent. Places I had no serious connection with or that were transient would not factor into dreams. That can be generally true. It’s just as true that some places appear out of proportion and others appear seldom or never despite being prominent. I have also dreamed completely fictional places that are as real in my memory, from dreams, as real ones.

The house where I grew up is naturally prominent. Often it’s the yard or other surroundings, including some of the outbuildings on the land around us. My father had his business just up the street. The original one was gone when I was 5, but is as likely to be what it is in a dream as any later location. The building that replaced it after a year or so doesn’t appear. That was gone relatively quickly. I sometimes dream about the temporary place where he did business in between. I don’t really dream about the final, longest lasting location that ought to be the most significant. That’s the location he sold when he moved on.

Second only to the house where I grew up is my maternal grandmother’s house. That most commonly appears melded into features of other houses. For instance, last week I faced out of my room in a dream. My room was a bedroom in that house, but the part I was facing was somewhere else. Perhaps the most identifiable other house that is part of dreams now and then is my old friend Zack’s childhood home, razed a number of years ago, but before that one of the oldest in the town. Places of influence include my great grandmother’s house, my aunt’s house that had been my great aunt’s before that, a rest home or something I visited once to see a great aunt, Daphne’s house, Kara’s house, and the home of a family we visited a couple times when I was little. That last is significant because my older brother would later have an enduring crush on one of the girls in that family.

The most unexpected is the shack my father’s mother’s parents lived in, barely in my early memories, visited once or twice when I was at most 4. Dreams set there owe more to the woodsy location by water than to the exact building. The way the building appears is almost like a hobbit hole. It’s cozy, safe, and mostly a single room. Completely rustic.

That one borders on a purely fictional location, however inspired. There’s an actual fictional location that to my memories may as well be real. It’s a yellow house, in the trees on a sort of ridge line between sections of swamp, down a stretch of grassy fire road if you know it’s there. I want to put it in a book if I can, someday. In dreams, I spent time growing up there with my brother and sister. It recurred when I was young, even more often than having a forest fire in the woods across the street from my actual house recurred in dreams. I’d be out there trying to battle flames blazing up to tree crowns with a garden hose.

I used to have school dreams. Not based on the elementary school or high school. Mainly based on the junior high and later the college. Sometimes I’d have dreams in schools with odd architecture, like walkways along the walls of the outsides of the buildings, at second floor level. You’d enter up there. They’d connect to other buildings or ramp to the ground. No rails. Similar to dreams I had when i was a kid in which we’d ride through Boston on roads that ran along the sides of buildings, connected precariously to crumbling brick. The roads through the city now look a lot more like what I was dreaming than they did then, but obviously you’re not driving up flimsy ramps hooked to sides of old buildings.

My big stock location that draws inspiration from others but is not the same as any of the exactly is the giant, creaky old wooden house with endless rooms. The floors are sometimes thin to the point where it seems I’ll fall through. The rooms can be empty, or full of junk. If there are people in the house, usually I am on my own, whether looking for something, exploring, or going to my assigned room. If this building has a street location, it is usually on a street not far from Zack’s house, where something like it doesn’t really exist, and there’s no building I’ve been in.

A variant on that is at a house that is now owned by my cousin. It was owned by her father and, when they were still married, her mother, my father’s sister. Except in the dream it’s bigger, and centers around the cellar, with a rickety floor perhaps 20 feet above the cellar floor. The floor has gaps, ends abruptly, and is very thin. The fall seems deadly. There’s not really a way into the lower part of the cellar from the elevated area above it, which is apparently accessible from the house. In real life, the house is on a hillside sufficient that you walk into the cellar through a regular door at the back. It’s normal, though, with a normal set of stairs up to the main floor of the house. That dream is always terrifying.

Speaking of terrifying, I can never remember what it’s about or why I scream, but the one I commonly have set in the yard where I grew up ends with me screaming “Mom!” Out loud, as I wake up. I don’t know if I am screaming for her, or because of something she’s doing to me. I did have a version once that was inside the house and was definitely her doing something to harm me. Smothering me in my bed, as I recall. Weird.

I once dreamed about an alien stepping up to my car while I was driving around, delivering papers. Vivid. I drove off in a hurry. It had a threatening feel. On the other hand, I once traveled in a beam of light that acted like an elevator. I was going out toward Jupiter and a family of aliens who looked completely human were on there way to Earth when we paused for a brief, friendly chat before continuing in our respective directions. Inspiration from surroundings only goes so far.

Which reminds me I forgot to mention the point of places that never seem to register in dreams. At least, I don’t think I mentioned it. The place where I lived the third longest, in two separate stretches, has been notably absent from dreams, The one time it appeared was such a surprise I made a big deal of it. Somewhere I lived for 11 years doesn’t rate, but a place I visited once becomes part of the architecture of dream houses? Has to be age and impressionability of the brain.

Speaking of youth, perhaps the most significant dream I ever had was of my kids before I’d met their mother. I may already have told this story here. Oh well. I was in an amorphous, gray place where people wait to be. An area cleared into a strip of lawn, gray still swirling behind it. Three kids were there. They were a girl, a girl, and a boy, in that order, but in the dream they were already perhaps 6-8 years in age range. The two younger ones, obviously close, chased each other around playfully while the older one stood and addressed me sternly, chastising me about taking my time and keeping them waiting. Then they stood side by side before me, in what would be birth order. I don’t have a clear memory of exactly what they looked like, but their appearance, relative ages, and personalities as much as you could discern in that short time were close enough to the kids that were waiting in the wings that it was uncanny. As it turned out, the first of the kids was “impossible.” She was conceived at the earliest possible point when she could have been, as if in a rush.

Two Night Stand

I just watched Two Night Stand and it’s one of my favorite romantic comedies ever. The kids who are the leads are adorable. Well, to me they seemed like kids. That’s starting to happen.

What are their names? John Cusack, right? No. Miles Teller. But hey, if you don’t look too close…

Analeigh Tipton is gorgeous and was perfect for the role. Great chemistry. It’s a bit less… innocent… than your classic Meg Ryan romantic comedy.

They’ve been in a lot of other stuff, with his roles being especially notable. Funny thing is I saw Jessica Szohr’s name and recognized it, but had to consult IMDB to realize it’s because she got the role of Talla on The Orville, replacing Halston Sage’s Alara as chief of security.

Anyway, the rough arc is predictable because of the type of movie. I suppose this is what’s what’s weird or different about a young romance. How do you have a similar happy ending? Assuming walking off down the snow covered street together, neither with a place to live, is entirely happy and can be presumed to be ever after. I guess a faux wedding might count if you’re 11 or 12. Getting to see each other regularly afterward at 12 might count, especially in light of improved family situations. A student rebellion and what will presumably be a short-lived running away from adult intervention in the faux wedding might not end up so happy.

Some of the details are predictable from the plot description and even more so if you watch the trailer. That doesn’t make it bad, though.

The experience of the people in the film is entirely outside of mine. I can’t actually say that nobody that attractive was ever interested in me, but what gets me is the ease of it all and the casual nature of the sex. I’ve talked about this before. Her roommate is all like “you’re horny and miserable, go get some.” I’m like “on what planet does it work that way?” And I was a teenager in the seventies. I wouldn’t be able to write something like that very easily. To me it might as well be dragons and unicorns.

But I love a romantic story and happy ending. I love obvious chemistry on screen. It’s what I grew up believing in, even without much more evidence of it being a real possibility than there was of sex being acceptable.

To be fair, so much of my understanding of things came from Daphne that earlier today I was telling myself that she might have prevented me from overly early fatherhood with the wrong person. Perhaps that should be viewed as a favorable role. I just could have done without waiting to have my first kid at 43. Then again, I would no more snap my kids away than Tony Stark would his. They’re amazing. Everything I did may have brought me to where I belong, but that doesn’t mean it was or is pleasant.

Maybe this is why I like this genre so much.

Still Confused, Apparently

I keep thinking of the kids in Melody as being in 5th grade, in US terms. In looking at stats, I ended up reading my own post on ages in Melody and found that I had concluded that they were equivalent to 6th grade. That because they are “First Form” and that is the year when you’d generally turn 12. In the US, sixth grade is the year when you’d generally turn 12. This does fit the story better, in that it was the earliest there were generally strong interests in the opposite sex and kids have girlfriends or boyfriends.

So I’ll have to remember that when I think about the story it’s sixth grade, it’s on the edge of 12, not fifth and 11. That means Tracy Hyde was a year young but looked older (well, her apparent age was highly variable in the film), and Mark Lester was exactly the age (looking on the young side of close enough to it). Jack Wild of course was playing much younger than his actual age, and always looked at least a year older than the age he was attempting to play. Perfectly plausible in the real world and Ornshaw’s apparent circumstances.

I could totally see this happening to me in late 6th grade. Heck, that was when I met my best friend, Zack, who would probably have been a crush had he been a girl. My daughter, a year older than that, has a huge girl crush on her best friend, even though she’s never shown any sign of being interested in anything but boys. Other than that, I still wondered about the 4th grade crush who disappeared, and had a crush on Paula, who was a year and a third younger than me. She’d be the obvious analogue for a scenario based on my life. If I merged her and Carol, I’d have dancing, but she’d have a brother who was a friend in my own grade. There’d be an alcoholic father, but a more stable, larger family otherwise, and more friends. Clearly the idea of writing something based loosely on me has not let go. Not a big market for youth romances, though, notwithstanding the success of Moonrise Kingdom.

But I digress. Writing this was intended to poke fun at my memory and to help reinforce what I had figured out previously so I might not forget it this time.

Writing and Distractions

I’m flowing with writing ideas, and I see it as the only thing I want to do that I can see myself doing. I also see it as a way to make a living, maybe even a decent one, as I head into my old age and increasingly toward my actual underfunded retirement. As opposed to the state of semi-retirement I have occupied for eleven years for various reasons and circumstances. One of the reasons I’ve been blogging relatively heavily is to have that flow going, and to have at least some outlet for the urge to write. I’ve actually written for a living, in a sense, in the past. It’s just that was a role pioneering Microsoft’s web-based tech support in the nineties, rather than the traditional forms of writing you might picture.

The trouble is, I feel privileged if I am able to complete so much as a blog post without losing track of what I was saying due to interruption or distraction.

First, the wife – sometimes the kids, but 98% the wife – interrupts freely without regard to whether I may or may not be concentrating or in the middle of something. We are back to a closed door not mattering, let alone the “working” sign not working. The latter has been foiled by my forgetting ever to flip it from “Working” to “Miller Time” but then again I almost never like to be interrupted. It doesn’t matter if I am writing, working on a web site, doing the proverbial checkbook, reading, or watching something.

Second, myself. I’m on this computer, online, and even if internet is down, with solitaire playable on it. Worse, perhaps, last time I made a major attempt at book writing, I had to be online because I used Google Docs.

I don’t have the space to adopt Jerry Pournelle’s monk’s cell concept, with or without the computer there being online. It would create a clear “do not disturb” zone for others, and a psychological change for my own benefit.

As unimpressed as I’ve been with Martin’s writing, I love his idea of writing on a dedicated DOS computer using WordStar. My first major word processor was WordStar 5.0, on a 286 with DOS. One of the good DOS versions. I think it was 3.3, then I was fortunate to have my newer version be 5 and then 6. I missed the ones before 3.3, and the versions between that and 5, except in passing on computers that were not my own. I adored WordStar 5.0 and had many of the keystrokes memorized. While I was using that, I actually had the chance to try WordPerfect and thought it was about the worst thing ever. My roommate loved it. You could do fancier things if you had the time and inclination to learn how. To be fair, I didn’t need anything fancier than you can do in Windows Notepad. I eventually used others, most notably Ami Pro, which created the resume I used for getting the job doing tech support that, it turned out, was for Word 6 (and the earlier ones if anyone called). I had tried Word 2 and dismissed it before that, but I fell in love with Word 6. It helped to have had intensive training on it.

So I have three problems:

  1. I get distracted too easily, as if I have ADHD more than I ever would have credited.
  2. I get interrupted by others.
  3. I have technical and environmental issues that maximize distraction and hinder focus.

Another thought: I have been known to have trouble bringing myself to reread my stuff to revise [case in point: right here I got interrupted for about an hour, with the biggest component being the wife], edit, or rewrite. This fits well with a possible attack on the goal and problem that I am considering.

We have sometimes talked about my going camping all by myself as a solitary retreat, even for a night. This idea originated with the wife, oddly enough. It makes sense. Camping is the kind of thing I can afford. She doesn’t camp, unless you count the level of rustic involved in going to a friend’s cabin in the woods, using an outhouse or composting toilet, having no refrigeration and modest cooking facilities, and having electricity via a solar setup or generator. There’s hot water and a well. You pretty much have to use the generator to run the pump to fill the tank to have some showers. When we all went there last summer, it was ungodly hot and that was miserable. I spent a lot of time in a pond and that gave me a severe “swimmer’s ear” infection. We almost entirely ate restaurant food or stuff that needed neither cooking nor cooling.

Besides swimming if there’s a pond, walking in the woods with someone who appreciates it (myself), cooking campfire food for the only one who wants it, and reading a lot, that would be a chance to write.

On paper. Realistically, I’d have to write on paper. It’s hard enough to bring a Kindle or two and a phone, keep them charged if the duration is long enough to need it. To write I’d either have to do it on a Kindle or get something portable but bigger. Or use paper.

If I use paper, I can write anywhere. I can sit in a parking lot! I used to write handwritten letters that way. I could pointedly get out of the house, go sit somewhere and spew into a notebook. Not in the yard, since I’d have no peace there. I’d have one of the neighbors standing by the car talking my ear off. Or at the picnic table.

I’d need to get the stuff into electronic form later, and that would force me to read what I had written while transcribing. There would inevitably be at least minor edits and corrections in the process. This may be the part that pushes me hardest to do it.

Another thing I’ve concluded is that I need multiple ideas going at once. I flit too much between things. If the things I have for flitting between are different pieces of writing or planning on paper for stories, then I am more likely to get something done on some of it, rather than nothing on any. That isn’t tied to where I write and the mechanics of it. It’s tied to recognition of my own inability to focus indefinitely on one project without flagging or pursuit of a shiny thing.

I’ve sometimes wondered if I ought to dictate some of my writing. It strikes me as slow yet spontaneous. If I were to work at a modern computer, dictating could be an option for creating a version that needs serious editing. It might have enough of a different feel, revising that, to keep me from dragging my feet. There’s a… stigma, for lack of a better word… associated with speech to text dictation. I spent years supporting Dragon Naturally Speaking for a law firm. I also did a presentation in college – in 1984! – on the state of work being done on voice recognition technology. At the time, they thought they almost had it. Even Dragon was sketchy and got gradually better over several years in basically the early aughts. Now it’s pretty much a given that any voice will be recognized with reasonable to near perfect accuracy by a device, without training or speaking carefully. That’s massive computing power and AI for you. It’s how we have spy devices for our homes, able to understand what we say when we address them. But I digress.

If I get in the writing habit and work on the distraction and focus angle, so long as I have the ideas, this could work.

Timeline Elasticity

If any of you follow all my babbling here, you know I think about alternate history scenarios, and alternate timelines to ours based on points where events large or small departed. One of my fiction ideas, started but never remotely completed, was one such based where I grew up. In it, I had certain changes I knew I wanted, then started thinking about what would have had to happen in the wider world to make it so. I could stick to lesser changes, and certainly I could keep it ambiguous. However, I arrived at the change possibly deriving from there having been no Teddy Roosevelt. I knew that was a huge change, but in fact it’s more so than I had realized, based on subsequent reading of history.

Digression from the main topic: TR gave us the Spanish-American War and the advent of the United States as an empire. He really kicked off the progressive movement, a creature of both right and left, and inaugurated massive changes to the size and role of government and collusion with big business interests. Things may have been ripe to lean this way in any event. That’s where the title of the post comes in. Who knows. We might have had no Great War, or no US participation in it. Take that away and you change the economy. It’s more certain there’s no Second War.  I’d originally thought about Wilson being eliminated, but it was TR who put us on a collision course.

The first big thing that impacts is a company that makes fireworks never becomes a munitions company, never becomes as big, never makes the owner as rich, never has residual effects on my family history.

When thinking about timeline changes, you can butterfly up a storm and treat it that all bets are off. You can also treat events as being somewhat elastic relative to what we knew in our timeline. I suppose that’s kind of a temporal-centric outlook, as if we are the One True Timeline. But if it’s elastic enough, then it’s not going to diverge as much as it would otherwise across a wide range of moderate changes.

What I mean by timeline elasticity is that things happen like JFK still becomes president around the same point in time, even with a good bit of change prior to that, even with one or more other presidents having been different. It snaps back, as best it can.

I would think that if you want to use that as an approach when planning out an alternate timeline, then you would have to be consistent. You can’t plead timeline elasticity when people question Nixon being president despite there never having been a Teddy Roosevelt, but wildly diverge on something that would be just as elastic. To put it another way, you’d treat the initial departure as your science fiction gimme and be “realistic” with other details. The “gimme” thing is a concept I got from Allen Steele. He said “you get one gimme” for your story. For instance, faster than light travel that simply exists and you don’t need to explain or justify at length. It’s the impossibility you’ve allowed yourself. But that’s what you get, and the rest follows or is logical.

This whole thing came to mind again in relation to Melody, of all things. I had been thinking it would be entertaining to reference Melody in the alternate timeline, which would be visited in the past, just a few years after Melody’s release in our timeline. I pictured having it be more successful. The thing is, change things enough and does it ever happen? If it does, would we recognize it? Just one thing is the minimum change: Mr. Perkins has an uncle who lost his hearing when a bomb fell on Berwell Street in the war. No war. No bomb. No story. Unless the uncle was destined to lose his hearing and the cause changed.

Now, it’s possible I could invoke some of the changes I want without such a huge point of departure. It’s possible strategic local events could do what I want, and nobody would notice much difference otherwise. On the other hand, the deeper story, including why and how people ended up crossing between timelines, seems to factor in the bigger source of change.

Besides, I still have a chance to use Melody in a story if I want. All I have to do is write a puppy love story based on myself, but in which I’ve seen the movie.

I suppose you could say that A Sound of Thunder was elastic. When the scared time traveling dinosaur hunter steps on a butterfly and changes everything, people are still people and things seems quite familiar. It’s just that the wrong guy got elected and English has changed slightly. Over millions of years of evolution that’s not much.

At least you don’t have to worry about these things if you change something now that matters going forward. For instance, changing physics to eliminate explosives, electricity, and some other details, while also adding subtle degrees of more mystic elements working. I had a similar but more radical idea years ago. If I wrote it now, people would think I was inspired by Dies The Fire. Or possibly Coldfire Trilogy. When I read the latter, I tried to figure out whether the author had been one of my pen pals. I briefly corresponded with a bunch of other aspiring SF&F writers found via the Writer’s Digest Book Club, and told some of them more about my ideas than I probably should have. In some ways, Coldfire was completely different from my biggest idea at the time. In others it was disturbingly familiar. Alas, there’s not really anything new under the sun, in some permutation or another.

Happy Birthday

This is the birthday of the girl I had a crush on around the time Melody came out in 1971. I didn’t know her name then, and she was gone the next year, as I know I have written elsewhere here. We were younger than the age depicted in the movie, by a year, which was basically the same age as the actors playing Daniel and Melody. He would turn 12 shortly before filming ended, and she would turn 11 just after filming began. (In her case, you can see her look older or younger at different times during the film, or look like it’s late in the filming because her hair has sun bleached, but I digress.)

It really would have been fascinating to see the film when it was first out and I was smitten with Carol without understanding what I felt at all. I might not have waited until 5th grade to try to seek her out and identify her. That was fruitless, because she had moved. When she returned, she looked different and time enough had passed that I’d never have made the connection. I learned by seeing a picture of her 4th grade class on Facebook, and there she was.

Long, relatively dark hair. Birthday in May. Father with a drinking problem. Dancing involved in my falling for her. It’s just crazy the parallels. The rest would have gone completely differently, but I could see us ending up hanging out. She’d have been receptive because she thought nobody liked her and she had exactly one friend.

I’m so glad I learned her identity, even if it wasn’t until we were 50 or so.

Love Grows

One of the best parts of The Kissing Booth was their use of Love Grows by Edison Lighthouse, essentially as a music video over a video collage of activity between Elle and Noah once they secretly get together. Shades of the use of Melody Fair, First of May (though this is broken up by the cemetery scene and then reprised in the actual film), To Love Somebody (though this does have cheering audible over it), and Give Your Best in Melody. For all we know, there will someday be YouTube videos of Love Grows with that movie clip.

This is one of those songs I have loved since forever. Which is to say, 1970 when it charted as a one hit wonder studio group featuring the prolific Tony Burrows. It’s one of the “can’t resist singing along” songs for me. Funny thing is that I associated it in my mind with another super favorite, My Baby Loves Lovin’ by White Plains, before I ever knew it was Tony Burrows on both. He also sang Beach Baby with First Class, which I may have forgotten in songs that remind me of Zack, and United We Stand. The last one was a decent song but never grabbed me like the other, and I left out the 5th hit he’s known for, a novelty song I never cared for much.

The big ones are the first two, for hands down being big favorites I can’t not sing along with. On that note, here’s the embed of the title song…

 

Trouble Is a Friend

Something triggered the vague memory of a music video I used to watch. I couldn’t remember who it was, but I remembered a bear and an eye, and the thing being partially animated. I also knew that it was associated with my friend Paula, because I discovered the artist through her Facebook likes several years ago. The song seemed fitting for her, and was one of two by the artist that I found I liked a lot. The other one was The Show, which is cute.

Anyway, I started out with something like female singer music video bear eye and got nowhere. Then I remembered she was Australian! Female Australian singers gave me a scrollable horizontal row of artists and there she was, a couple scrolls over: Lenka.

If that hadn’t worked, I might have thought to look at Paula’s profile to see if I could rediscover who it was from her music likes. After Paula’s awesome son died in a tragic work accident maybe three years ago, leaving two babies and a young wife behind, trouble was definitely more of a foe for her. The whole thing still jars me to the core, and I’m not family as she is. I hadn’t even met him, but he was highly regarded and my town rallied behind his family.

I digress and the digression is making me cry. In a way, the whole thing hits close to home because I did have a crush on her in 6th grade, when she was in 5th, and the interest never completely died for all it was never red hot as it was with someone like Ella. She would arguably be the more likely of the two candidates for a Melody-like story based on my own youth. I had planned probably to include an analog to her, and her brother, in my alternate timeline book(s). If my life had gone just slightly differently, she would be one of the more likely people for me to have had kids with at a younger age than what actually happened. (Jeez, that brings up another topic!) As such, the death hit me in a “could have been my kid” way even more than just having a contemporary’s kid I’d never met die might have.

Enough of that. Here is Trouble is a Friend by Lenka:

 

 

Never Forget

I forgot a song in my song tribute to my late stepsister! I cannot hear Rock and Roll Never Forgets without thinking of her, and picturing her as the person being spoken to in the song. Even though I was never aware of her going through that phase of ceasing to party because she stopped and thought about her dignity. She’s the one who famously told me my problem was that “you never learned how to party.” I was a bit miffed at the time, but she was basically correct. But then, she would never have been in any danger of being diagnosed on the spectrum as I would have, my older brother would have, as different as he is from me, and my older sister might have. She was also the person who vehemently corrected my misspelling of Seger. I don’t even remember the circumstances in which I wrote Bob Seeger or however I spelled it, and she whipped me into shape. That may figure into why I associate him with her so heavily.

Anyway, here’s the song I should never forget.

 

 

My Stepsister

The older of my two stepsisters died of a stroke a year ago today at the age of 55. It remains shocking and heartbreaking. I hadn’t actually seen her in many years, in no small part to her living 1500 miles away. She could be tempestuous when we were younger, but I was proud of the successful, together person she grew up to be, and happy to see the rapport she developed with my father.

I may have mentioned her when doing “songs associated with people” posts, but as I recall, I did not do one specifically for her. This seems like an appropriate time. I was asked, almost a year ago, not to post anything about her death, memorializing her or whatever. Thus I never posted about it on Facebook, and have mentioned it nowhere more than passingly. This has made the whole thing harder to take, letting it fester rather than benefit from sunlight. Even this barely qualifies, but perhaps it plus the passage of time will be sufficient.

My stepsister was never notable for having a big interest in singing. However, I will never forget the time we sang along together to Olivia Newton-John’s Let Me Be There. I did the male part, while she did Olivia’s part. It was a blast. That was probably in 1974. I was also second guessing myself and thinking of If You Love Me, Let Me Know, which also has a male part. However, it has a less extensive male part, and I sang during most of it. Funny how memories can muddle.  More after the video.

I associate my stepsister with ABBA in general, and Mama Mia specifically. We were in the back of my father’s station wagon and she was singing along with Mama Mia heartily the first time I ever remember hearing the song or the band. That couldn’t have been later than 1976, because of the location. Good taste.

Rock & Roll All Night by Kiss is one of her songs because I will always remember hearing it with her at a house in the neighborhood where she sometimes hung out and, to the extent possible at that age, partied. I can’t hear it without thinking of her.

Rich Girl by Haul & Oates was a shared experience among a few of us. I think my friend Frank might have been there at the time, since I know there was an incident when we were at my aunt’s boyfriend’s house, where my aunt lived at the time, when he and my stepsister went out on a rowboat together. He lived on the water in Plymouth. Anyway, we were sitting around a table and that song was playing on the radio. She, at least, was singing along. The lyrics include “it’s a bitch girl…” and my aunt’s boyfriend chewed us out over listening to and singing a song with such horrible curse word lyrics. He was kind of a mess. All of us shared kind of a quiet WTF reaction to the man being insane.

Last and perhaps least, barring anything I might have forgotten offhand, is that my stepsister resembled Linda Ronstadt so much, for a long time, that songs by her can remind me of my stepsister. My other stepsister for a long time resembled Valerie Bertinelli in her heyday and hated the fact, even though that was incredibly complementary.

One of them in particular does, a later one by Ronstadt that I had loved and then forgotten existed until recently. When I rediscovered it, I bought the MP3 so it comes up on my big playlist periodically. I’ll end with the video for How Do I Make You.

 

 

Something About You

So I’m back with the series of “favorite song by an artist” posts, prompted by a Boston song having played on my playlist and reminding me that they were one of the groups I’d thought of initially. In theory, this should be a terribly hard decision. There’s only one song on their entire debut album that I don’t like. At that, it’s more a matter of being lukewarm to it than disliking it. I can easily listen to that album start to finish and skip nothing. I never warmed to the other albums, or even heard anything off of anything past their third one. I love the one big hit off each of those two albums, but the real magic was the first. They were yet another one of those now classic rock bands that debuted when I was in high school, or within the few years just before and after. 1976, in their case, just before the start of tenth grade.

Despite how amazing they were, one song is a “my song” kind of song and thus makes this cut: Something About You. It’s me, except the guy found a girl eventually, but his combination of feeling too much and not wanting it to show, and his temper, sometimes mess things up. I’m shockingly mellow these days, but I always had the temper that ran through some of the men in my family. I didn’t tend to take it out on people, even if it was a result of people, but I had to learn not to break things I didn’t want to have to or couldn’t afford to replace, or come off looking foolish. I learned to keep that inside, along with other feelings.

In an unexpectedly astute moment many years ago, my stepmother noted that I hold things inside and, I forget how she put it, but essentially it did things like drive up my blood pressure. It always drove the wife crazy that I won’t fight. She’ll do that almost for sport or fun. The last time my temper peaked was probably around eight to ten years ago, give or take a bit. That was the point at which it became a three way thing with her seeing another guy while we stayed together for the kids and stability. The other guy waxed and mostly waned subsequently, but she tenaciously waxed it recently. Even though it’s water under the bridge and it’s weird to imagine there ever being an actual relationship between us again, it has reminded me how my temper can be. But I digress into something way longer and more personal than intended as the intro for the song. And yes, that all related to why and how she came to tell me, more than once, how easy it would be for me to find people to get laid with. I find that laughable, of course, given how long and convoluted it was to get her, finally, at the age of 42.

When I was younger I thought I could stand on my own
It wasn’t easy, I stood like a man made of stone

Relatable. I might have been better off if I’d actually been more like that and not wanted it, wanted The One, whoever that might be, so much when I was young. But still, I couldn’t express an interest when I had one. Couldn’t act on it. Had learned to expect that even if I did the best outcome would be simple rejection.

I could easily have picked More than a Feeling. I could have picked Rock & Roll Band, a great entrant into the genre of “we’re a band, here’s how we started or the experiences we’ve had” songs. We’re an American Band. What’s Your Name. Turn the Page. Creque Alley. Jukebox Hero. Life’s Been Good.

But not those or the other great songs. There’s just Something About You:

 

 

When You Never Watched The Movie…

You write a DVD cover blurb that sounds like this utterly ridiculous one from the Melody DVD:

An excellent musical score by the Bee Gees adds appeal to this curious little movie about two ten year olds, Daniel and Melody (Mark Lester and Tracy Hyde) who are completely taken with each other and announce to their parents, in all seriousness, that they plan to get married. This marriage is not planned for the distant future, but as soon as possible. The uproar that is caused when their seriousness becomes clear is not too surprising. Their best friend Ornshaw (Jack Wild) is not too thrilled with their plan either. What makes the film work is that the entire story is told from the children’s point of view in which the grownups’ objections, since they have no relation to the truth of what the children are feeling, come across as silly or inconsequential. This film is a reunion of sorts for Oscar-winning Oliver! co-stars Mark Lester and Jack.

My aim is to rewrite this using the same amount of words/space, so my text could be used in the same spot on a DVD case. Or as a brief description that might actually make the film sound like something you might enjoy seeing. I transcribed from the case to help with that end, but that allows me to post and critique it her. This is vastly more annoying than the reviews you see by people who sound as if they never saw the film.

The music not only adds appeal, but also was incorporated into creation of the story concept and the writing of the script. That phrasing sounds like damning with faint praise.  That gets worse when it is described as “this curious little movie.” That tells me the writer found the movie odd at best and is warning people that there is a good chance they won’t like it.

The kids are not ten. They are eleven. While their age is never outright stated, the school year and time of year makes them 11 or so close as not to matter. This also fits with the ages of the actors, though that is moot in that Jack Wild was 17 and Lesley Roach was 16, yet they were playing kids who were also 11. It’s possible that kids in the grade level could be as old as 12, but few would be lower than 11 by late in the equivalent of American fifth grade. Not that it matters. My equivalent crush with some surprising similarities was around the time I turned 10.

Why do we need to mention Mark Lester’s name twice? Why do we cut off in the middle of Jack Wild’s name, at the end, so he is mentioned one and a half times?

At no time do the kids announce to their parents that they intend to get married. It is probable that both sets find out, but the only ones we see knowing and doing a poor job of talking her out of it are Melody’s. The closest we see Daniel coming to announcing it (which doesn’t mean it didn’t happen off-screen) is when his mother finds the note saying that they are eloping.

Melody and the love between the two kids is central to the story, but not remotely the only part of it. If you could say it’s about one thing, that would be love. But it’s love between friends as well.

About the only thing in the description that is accurate is that the story was told from the point of view of the children. I’m not sure it’s the objections to the marriage idea that come across as silly and inconsequential so much as it is the general incompetence of the adults that makes them come across that way in general.

I might never have paid enough attention to this to tear into it, except my oldest used the description as the basis for her decision not to watch the movie. That was what cause me even to read it. I was horrified.

What If

It’s not just a genre for alternate history SF any more. It’s a 2014 2013 (the latter per IMDB, the former per Amazon, which owns IMDB) romantic comedy, starring Daniel Radcliffe, Zoe Kazan, and Adam Driver. Fantastic! Zoe was just gorgeous, and amazing. Daniel makes you completely forget he was ever Harry Potter. Adam is tall. Very tall compared to Radcliffe. I don’t think I had noticed his height as the rogue Skywalker. He made a great Ornshaw-like friend, whose cousin is actually the girl in question.

Weird! I just discovered that the original title was “The F Word.” I had heard of that one. Just never saw it, though the trailer looks familiar.

Megan Park was Zoe’s sister and was also great. I would be attracted to the looks plus quirkiness of Chantry (Zoe), but would be attracted probably more at sight to Dalia (Megan), if I knew nothing but how they each looked.

The film was delightful, funny, quirky and different. It was somewhat a modernized variant of When Harry Met Sally, which to its credit is something I didn’t catch until well into the movie. On the negative side, it’s about being soundly friend zoned, and could bring out bad memories of Daphne. On the positive side, it’s a look at how important being that close as friends can be to a relationship.

Daphne didn’t ruin things by wanting to be just friends after cuddling with me and being my first kiss. She didn’t really even ruin things by dating my best friend and ultimately having casual sex with my other best friend. She ruined things by coming along later and teasing me with the possibility of something that was never going to happen and spending some nights platonically in the same bed as me. At that point, much later in our lives than our high school and immediate post high school years, she lectured me about the evils of casually having sex, rather than “making love.” Yet that was just what she’d done with one of my friends who had zero interest in her but was having a dry spell just then. He thought of it as lowering himself shamefully. But this is supposed to be about a movie I just watched and loved.

I still find it funny to watch these things and see people in, say, their twenties or so being so free, enthusiastic and open about sex. That’s not the world I grew up in, or at least not a part of the world I ever saw personally. It’s how it ought to be, but it still boggles me. I probably would have been better off to have been the guy in Hello I Love You, working and working and working, never making the slightest attempt to be social, and being 29 with no dating experience or friends but 200k in the bank. No way I’d have stayed “living at home” as he did to help save money. I moved out about as soon as possible, never went back to my mother’s, and still feel somewhat shamed I moved to my father’s to make it possible, or at least easier, to go to college. One of these days I might remember to write a post about how I’ve always identified with my work to an irrational degree.

Maybe that’s why I like romantic comedies. They connect with something I wanted and never had. Which reminds me how great it was that The Princess Bride had a cameo in What If. One of the best movies ever.

Hello, One Small Hitch

After watching Moonrise Kingdom and already being up past my bedtime, I watched One Small Hitch free on Amazon Prime. It may be a “by the numbers romantic comedy,” but I was entranced. I thought Aubrey Dollar (sounds like a stage name if I ever heard one) as Molly was wonderfully acted and stunningly beautiful. Like Melody, Molly would have been a fantastic name for my second daughter, had we thought of it. Even though I have seen it and know how it ends, I might even consider watching it again after a while. I knew roughly how it would end before it started, after all, because of what it was.

I liked the rest of the cast as well. Josh seemed more generic than Molly, to me. Giselle was well cast and in the end a very wise character. I just loved Max and was sure he must be one of those old guys I’d seen in other things before. Yet the only thing I might have remembered him from was Hill Street Blues. I wasn’t a regular viewer of that, but would have caught enough to have seen him in action when he was much younger.

If you like romantic comedies and don’t mind that they are all relatively predictable variants of the same basic idea, I would recommend it.

After this, late as it was, I started to watch Hello I Love You, which I remember seeing promoted last year. I love the idea of it. I love Emma, played by Kabrina Miller, and to a lesser degree her friend Mandy, played by Elizabeth Monte. It’s a great setup, that the two of them play elaborate practical jokes on each other and this Emma believes Andy is part of the next one of those. That figures into her accepting ten dates with him after he comes up to her, a stranger, and asks her to marry him. At the end of the ten dates, he will ask again. Andy’s character is in some ways relatable to me – 29 and no dating experience, plus career frustration for all he’s been a workaholic. His is the weaker character or casting, in my initial impression of having watched until partway through their first date.

The premise is good. The villainy of the people at the production company is predictable. I found myself wondering if that wouldn’t turn out as you might expect. He works in a lowly job at the production company and pitched this as a reality show idea. The girl has no idea she is being filmed.

I turned it off before the first date was over. I had finally gotten quite sleepy, and I was cringing. Sometimes I empathize too much with people on the screen and, in a home environment where I have a choice, will stop watching because I find it too hard to take. It’ not Andy on that date, in that messy, awkward situation. It’s me. I internalize things that much when they are happening to other people, even fictional other people. Arguably an autistic tendency, if you subscribe to the theory that autism involves feeling and empathizing to excess, rather than not feeling or relating. That makes it hard to people if you have those tendencies, even if you’re nowhere close to something that’d ever be diagnosed. So I was ready to skip ahead or go to bed, and being sleepy made it go to bed. I may pick it up where I left off, or may fast forward and watch enough bits to follow what happens. One awkward thing made me think of Melody. On the first date, he tries to order for her because he has seen that on TV or whatever. It doesn’t go well. That reminds me of Daniel trying to carry Melody’s bag because he “knows” that’s what you do when you’re walking with the girl. Except they’re 11 years old. Melody bemusedly takes it back with a silent I can do that myself kind of reaction.

Anyway, there’s my romance binge for last night, when I didn’t feel like doing anything else. For all I wasn’t sleeping yet, I was way too tired to think much or do anything at all useful.

Update:
I couldn’t resist. I continued watching Hello I Love You. It was awesome. Didn’t go exactly as I’d expected, apart from Mike turning good, the boss getting what was coming to him, and Emma being angry when it turned out to be a reality show. I had also thought about permissions right at the beginning, and wondered how it would go if they couldn’t get the right to use her in the show. Despite that, I didn’t think it would be a big plot point.

Moonrise Kingdom

After the kids weren’t eager to watch Melody with me, I bought Moonrise Kingdom in SD digital from Amazon and watched it for the first time. I was a little worried that I had effectively “already watched it” by seeing all the clips and some commentaries online. It’s true I’d seen a lot of it, even key scenes, but there was a lot missing, and order missing. That is, the clips didn’t reflect the order in which things were shown in the film. That was not in exact chronological order. It flashes back. It gets to the goldfish promptly.

I don’t have a detailed analysis or such after one viewing. I can say it’s hardly a “remake” of melody, or even all that close to being anything but homage to Melody. The comparisons I saw made to another film or two that predated Melody make me think it owes more to at least one other. The one thing I saw that was a tiny detail that was a direct tie between the two was the bubbler. That’s water fountain to folks outside the Massachusetts or New England area. That was when he was sneaking off to get to the dressing room where the birds were getting ready for the Noah’s Ark show. As far as we ever know, the first time he sees her is when she turns to look, along with the other girls in bird costumes. And at that, you only see her face framed by the costume. It begs the question of why he seemed to be seeking her out. Much as there are elements unseen or unexplained in Melody, we are left to fill in if we don’t believe that’s Sam’s first sight of Suzy. Sam paints, as does Daniel, but painting was a big factor in at least one of the other movies in the genre. It ended up being a minor factor in Melody.

I was thinking you’d have a somewhat different film if Daniel painted Melody. There was room in the world of Melody for her to have gone to Daniel’s house after school on days when adults weren’t home. Whereas at her house adults were always home. You see her family meet him, but not vice-versa. You see her family reacting with her to the whole marriage thing, but you only see his mother reacting to the note about eloping. Which begs the question of what she knew and when she knew it before then, as well as why he left a note. Besides to give the story an exploding car.

One thing Moonrise Kingdom did was give us a satisfying ending. Sam gets a decent family. He and Suzy get to see each other. They complete each other and are more stable, happier people. Her parents avoid the crisis that her mother’s affair might have caused. Edward Norton might not have to stay single after all, however subtle that scene was. In Melody, the ending is the anarchic explosion of the kids in response to the ridiculous adults. Daniel and Melody run off ambiguously, since where can they go, really. Yeah, in Moonrise Kingdom we can wonder what happens in the future. Do the two kids stay together as they age, becoming lovers and then married for real? Do they become friends who happened to have that adventure than bonded them together?

Moonrise Kingdom, which we never actually see stated on screen as the name of their cove, their land, until the painting at the end gives us the source of the title, has distinct differences due to the kids being basically a year older. In Melody they are 11, notwithstanding some people saying they are 10 and others saying they are 12. If you’re matching the school year and time of year, 11 it is. That explains the difference in maturity and activity. Despite all the publicity pictures, we never see either of them kiss the other on the cheek. They hold hands, maintain as little personal space at times as you might expect, and he puts his arm around her when they sit in the rain after the bad day. Sam and Suzy kiss, French kiss, dance close, reference his male reaction to her, and he “feels her up.” They sleep cuddled together. For all that, it’s still nearly as innocent as Melody.

The adults are messed up, just as they are in Melody. We see the hint of the headmaster having an affair with Miss Fairfax, but they are single so who cares, even if he’s a religious figure and her boss. We see more overtly that the police chief is having an affair with Suzy’s mom. Suzy knows this and her father figures it out. The stylized nature of the film means the scouts are active endlessly. The troop leader is more attached to that than he is to being an adult with a real job.

The scouts are the closest we get to the friends and classmates around Daniel and Melody. Instead of a best friend sidekick to Sam, Suzy is the best friend. We see the scouts come around to helping Sam, and Suzy, rather than hating Sam as they had.

Anyway, I liked it. I liked it a lot. It’s not Melody, but I will also watch it again. Which is why I bought it rather than renting it.

Oh! I just realized as I went to click the categories that a parallel to Melody might be when Sam sleepwalked and set a fire in his foster home’s yard, compared to Daniel setting fire to his father’s newspaper. At least I didn’t sleepwalk when I was a kid, along with wetting the bed. I saved sleepwalking for when I was an adult, and did it a number of times circa the early to mid nineties. This was bad because I could easily have fallen down stairs. I’d get up to go to the bathroom, apparently so sleepy that I didn’t remember having done so, and I’d get turned around on my way to or from. I woke once with my hand on the knob of my stepsister’s door, at the opposite end of the hall and right at the top of the stairs. I woke in the closet of the spare bedroom I used as a computer room. I woke at the door of my room, or by the bathroom door. It was crazy.

Well Then

On my first attempt to get the kids to watch Melody, they are refusing. That’s with them having been intrigued because I had to order it from South Korea, and offering them each a small stipend to watch and give feedback. On a day when they’ve been looking for ways to make money. I think I caught them at a bad time, where they are preoccupied with other things. Worst case, I will requisition the living room one day while they are on school vacation and watch it myself for the sake of seeing it on a full TV screen. Since they will be around, they will no doubt see at least parts of it.

It also didn’t help that the oldest had me shut up and read the description on the jewel case. That decided her. I read it afterward and was appalled. It’s the equivalent of a review that sounds like it was written by someone who hasn’t seen the movie. It’s almost entirely nonsense.

That begs the challenge of what would you say to describe it in about 150 words and make it actually both reasonably accurate, comprehensive, and appealing.

Melody DVD

A couple weeks or so ago I ordered a region-free Melody DVD from an eBay seller in Korea. The price was great and I didn’t have to worry about working around it being a copy intended for the UK/Europe. While I found a decent quality version on YouTube, I wanted to be able to have my own copy that would look good on a larger screen.

One potential problem was my DVD drive on the computer. When I tried to play the DVD of Bohemian Rhapsody my brother gave me for my birthday, the drive kept stopping and the tray popping out. I finally gave up, and had planned to redeem the watch anywhere online code so I could stream it from Amazon. In the course of taking Melody for a test run, it only did this once. Still annoying, but not the end of the world.

I’m going to try to get the kids to sit still to watch the whole thing and opine about it. It may help that they are intrigued after the wife brought in the package and asked if I was expecting a package from Korea. “Yes, it’s a DVD.” “For your brother?” He is internet-impaired and had me order him a bunch of stuff off Amazon, one of which ended up coming from a seller in Germany. “No.” Said something about an old movie I’d discovered and fallen in love with, and couldn’t get any other way. I’ll also warn them to wait for the goldfish.

There are things I could see and hear much better on the DVD, even playing on the computer. However, I would be surprised if it’s not bootleg and it’s just that nobody cares. The case would be easy to produce to look official. The variant of it is the US release. It may have also been used in other countries. I base that perception on the end title screen with “to Love Somebody” on it. I would like to think that an official DVD would have substantially better quality than YouTube, rather than modestly better quality that’s nice for being an improvement but slightly disappointing for not being a big improvement.

We’ll see how it looks on a TV, played in the DVD player of an Xbox. To do that they either have to be out of the house or watching with me. They are out of school for the next week, bracketed by two weekends. Stay tuned for how this goes and what they might have to say about it.

Please Come To Boston

Nope, this isn’t about the song of the same name, pleasing as it may be. That just seemed like the thing to use as a catchy title for a city versus country post inspired by going to Boston. Tomorrow I have appointments there for two of the kids. It’s old hat by now, but when I was a kid, driving through or especially to Boston was exotic. Gross, too, before the pollution levels reduced. There was a time I was there almost weekly, but that was before I formed retrievable memories. When I was 17 days old and had meningitis, my parents drove me there and couldn’t figure out how to get to the hospital. They stopped and asked an anonymous cab driver. Instead of giving directions, he said “follow me” and led them there through a convoluted but speedy route. Maybe he didn’t save my life, but that random driver sure helped the cause.

I grew up essentially in the middle of the woods, in a small town that was rural inching toward suburban. Cities were polluted and criminal! They were crowded. With people! The very idea of going to one, let alone living in one, even something as urban as Brockton, was abhorrent. I still don’t like the idea, but I mind it less and can see the appeal to some. My oldest was briefly interested in the idea of living in the city when she was younger, maybe to go to college or work there when she was older. For her, even if that was a factor back then, being able to do without a car isn’t a factor. Unlike so many young people these days, she is ready to drive just as early as she can possibly manage it. And recent talk of MIT aside, she’s tentatively interested in going to college in the next town and commuting from here.

There’s a definite culture gap between city and country. My sister married an awesome guy from Dorchester and his family may as well have been from another planet. Absolutely nothing wrong with them. Just a completely different culture and outlook.

I see Melody, set in London, with the kids running around loose in the urban environment, and it’s as foreign to me as the fact that the location is in a different country and the date is almost fifty years ago. At least I lived through the same time and was close to the same age then, and England isn’t so different. Especially not then. Some might wonder if it has lost its way more recently. The kids made the most of it. There were benefits. Hop on a bus and be at Trafalgar Square. Hop on a train and be at the seaside and back before you can really panic anyone. It’s relatively new that we can walk under two miles, or drive and park, to get on a train to Boston or points in between, and from there take other transport to get around. Beats the traffic, depending, but it’s slower.

What I don’t look forward to is the drive home tomorrow. It’s likely to be late enough, especially on a Friday, that it’ll be full rush hour already. Then you’re in traffic headed toward Cape Cod, if not as bad as it’d be closer to the actual summer season.

Frankly, it still amazes me to live in a building with multiple units, on a postage stamp of land (if it’s a quarter acre I’d be surprised) with other buildings crowded around. The traffic is getting a little crazy, even though it’s still a relatively rural town. While being near stores and such is good, I wouldn’t mind moving somewhere much more rural. As long as I could afford it. Before I met my wife, I had developed the still nebulous goal of saving enough money to buy some cheap land somewhere, most likely wooded, where it could still be had cheap. I figured it’d be a camping get away, then maybe I could build a cabin, maybe someday live there, depending. Anyway, time to make the donuts. Supper, that is.

All I Know

On a happier note, I happened to play this after playing my favorite Melody-based music video and thought I would share. It also happens to be way up there in the extensive list of songs I have trouble keeping myself from singing along with. Makes sense, considering that Bridge Over Troubled Water and Scarborough Fair have always been on that list. My daughters are singing Scarborough Fair in their spring chorus concert, so the older one developed enough of an interest in what would otherwise be outside her usual taste that she learned to play it on guitar and was serenading me the other day while talking music as I cooked. Astrophysicist? Rock star? No telling which she may be at this point!

For some reason, I tend to associate The Wedding Song with All I Know, even though it’s Paul Stookie. That is also on the sing along list. It’s notable for playing on the radio when people went to their cars after my friend Julie’s wedding back when we were barely out of high school. Apparently YouTube associates them, too, or knows I do, since that’s how it came to mind.

I’m late for bed now, so I’ll stop here and either carry on in another post or add some of it to this tomorrow. I’ll also double check the links I included later, since I didn’t actually play all of them just now as I was picking them.

What to Say?

I’m at a loss for what to post without it being too much. Since I want to go to bed ASAP, earlier than normal so I’m not sleepy all day tomorrow, there’s not much time.

I’ve been meaning to write about, probably in a series of posts as notable examples come to mind, songs I can’t resist singing. I still have songs I associate with people I can post about. There’s always random songs that I happen to think of sharing.

I may actually have died down on things I have to say about Melody. Mark the calendar!  One of those conversations you have in your head, with one of the “girls group” actors (the one who identified the one I was curious about), had me thinking about posting about blog fame and how I met my wife, but I may already have covered that sufficiently.

Bushcraft topics are something I have not gotten into, and that’s likely to center around whenever the next season of Alone airs. However, it also touches on my childhood and growing up in the woods, and not being in the right place at the right time. It also touches on my potential fiction. Thinking about that recently made me think of the bed wetting problem I had when I was young. (Actually addressed, I noticed in one of the clips, in Moonrise Kingdom. Sam lets Suzy know he might wet the bed, when they are going to sleep in the tent together when they have run away. To “the seaside,” no less! She’s like “okay,” and it’s no big deal.)

I was thinking that even if I’d thought to grab the pup tent and some stuff and camp out in our woods, or go camp out in a shelter of natural materials, I would have to have worried about that possibility. The funny thing is, it was probably not nearly as frequent as the shadow it cast over my life makes me think of it as being. It stopped absolutely as soon as I hit puberty sufficiently at 11 years old. I was still paranoid enough that I wouldn’t go on the class campout in 6th grade, after I had turned 12. I always wondered if it was a similar story with the girl who was the only other one in my class who didn’t stay for the night.

There were no pullups then. One of my kids had a worse problem than I ever did. All I had to do was spend enough money on those and hope they didn’t leak very often. My father ranted and threatened me. My mother took me to the doctor when they had no clue what might cause it, but he used the idea of cutting the opening wider as a scare tactic (I promptly figured that out even then). With my kid, I learned it can be a problem caused by constipation. It was more a matter of worsened by, in that case, but it’s entirely possible that could have been a factor with me.

My mother boggled me by not having a particularly strong memory of bed wetting having been a thing. For me it dominated my childhood. My first friend in my childhood was born nine months after me and was the daughter of the best friends of my

[At this point I was interrupted and then went to bed after saving this as a draft. This is how it goes.]

As I was saying, first friend, daughter of best friends of my respective parents. Her mother and my mother met at nursing school, which my mother didn’t complete because it turned out she couldn’t bear the sight of blood. We could come home as wet and muddy as we wanted, but please no blood. Which means she must have really hated my tendency to have bloody noses. Shared by the same kid who shared my bed wetting problem. My mother’s reaction to my random, profuse bloody noses was that it meant I had high blood pressure and was going to die. While I did end up with hypertension later, that’s kind of an odd thing to say to your kid even if it had validity.

I had a nickname that was based entirely on the bed wetting thing. I absolutely loathed it and frankly would try to avoid anyone who knew or used the nickname. If I’d been a different sort, there might have been some violence inflicted. They always told me I didn’t know my own strength, after all. I actually learned to be gentle lest I hurt someone accidentally. It infuriated me when that friend, on Facebook decades after I’d last seen her, relayed that her mother said “hi nickname!” Where “nickname” is the one in question. It kept me from friending her mother on Facebook. Though I did go, a few years later, to a big surprise 80th birthday party for her mother. I just looked to see if I’d given the friend a pseudonym. Yes. Julie. So a couple years ago I went to the 80th birthday party for Julie’s mother. I walked in and both Julie and her sister let out a dropped-jaw “wow!” Apparently they were impressed with how I look in my old age. Of course, all the stuff about my being unattractive isn’t how I looked. It’s how I perceived myself, helped by a number of people along the way.

Anyway, my reaction to the nickname reflects just how strongly I felt, and feel, about the whole thing. My experience made it easier to deal gently with my own kid, but it’s a whole new world in that regard anyway.

So I found myself thinking about the idea of going out and camping in my woods when I was, say, 8 or 9, and realized it would have been weird given that problem. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d found that under those circumstances it simply never happened. Because of it and not having many friends who would have been candidates for that anyway, there weren’t sleepovers with friends until I was past that. My last bestie before Zack was a girl, a year older than me, and while I could swear I have a memory of sleeping over there, it is probably based on a memory of being there at breakfast time. I wouldn’t have risked it. I slept over my grandparent’s house and don’t remember wetting the bed there. I probably did more of that closer to the point where it stopped, at which point it had waned for a long time, than I did younger. Maybe there were environmental factors to that, too. I got sick when we moved into the house where I grew up, for environmental reasons. Whatever. I also don’t remember it happening when we went camping. If it were a rare thing, I might connect it to the nerve damage I suffered as an infant. That made me seem retarded while actual being highly intelligent, but probably wasn’t behind the loss of nocturnal control. Then again, puberty was when I shed the bulk of the physical effects of the damage, though it took into my twenties for that to be complete for all practical purposes. To this day I take unnatural delight in being able to speak glibly and do physical things most people would take for granted. The thing is, the kid with the problem had no such thing. Nor the environmental factor, at least not to the same degree.

I didn’t intend this to be the bed wetting post. Yet there it is.

I suspect it didn’t happen all that often, or it would have been even worse. It’s just that it was like the end of the world every time it did. It would be an interesting personalized alternate history: What if there had never been bed wetting?

ONLY a Year?

It amuses me to read something like this article about a sexual dry spell survey that found nearly 3 in 10 American adults are stuck in a dry spell for nearly a year. OMG!

Obviously my experience has been entirely abnormal and people just don’t wait until they’re 42, only to discover the libido of the partner who deigned to have them isn’t all that after all, and then get abandoned for the rest of their life five years later. Amateurs! Had I not met the wife, which might not have happened without it being online and her being sufficiently aggressive, I fully expected and had accepted that I would be alone and unencumbered by that allegedly normal experience for the rest of my life.

I could write at some length about all the messed up perceptions and feelings I developed from childhood on, and I have to some degree elsewhere here. It’s a horrible thing to do to a young person, convincing them that they are evil for being interested in sex, that having it is wrong, that they are ugly and unappealing, that nobody would ever find them attractive sexually or romantically, that the opposite sex is to be feared or is a source of intimidation, or anything like that. For that matter, it’s a horrible thing to convince a young person that they are hopelessly stupid, incompetent, or will never amount to anything more generally, and the one certainly can’t help the other.

Cognitive Dissonance Or Mind Goes First

I spent some time helping my brother with tax-related stuff and asked him about the time we went to The Guess Who. When I tried to determine when I went to each concert, I was absolutely convinced it was in 2005 because I “remembered” being already married at the time. All I could find was a tour in 2002.

It was 2002.

August 31, 2002, now that I just went and looked it up exactly.

So I will go update the concerts post accordingly, and boy don’t I feel silly.

I’d also been perusing the county registry of deeds online search feature and learning all sorts of things. One of them was that my father bought the land for his new business location in 1972, “long before he built the new place there,” and with the mortgage held by the seller. He bought a small house “before he ever met the woman who would become his second wife, and before he ever bought the land for the new business.” He actually bought that house in the beginning of 1973. I clearly remember going to dinner at her place, so two of us kids could meet her and her two kids, in the fall, sometime after he’d met and started seeing her. That was 1972. Unless he was renting the little house before he bought it and so I am confused because he did already live in it, it means he did not in fact own the house before he met her, though he did own it before they were married in June 1973. It means he bought the land before the house. Further, it turns out he built the new building for the business in 1973. Now, that actually makes sense to me because I was having cognitive dissonance regarding the timeframe when I thought it happened and how old I remember me and the other kids being when we hung out at what was still a sandpit at the time. He bought the land while it was still being excavated for sand and gravel, and the spot where he built was down to street level first.

I think I was thrown by the memory of meeting one of the neighborhood kids for the first time because he’d come hang around the business. That was long after it opened, but I think of it as being right afterward. I may also have been thrown by the association of a minibike my father owned and I used to ride through the woods behind his temporary location with the memory of it also being used when my stepsisters were in the picture.

And this is why I’m trying to pin down some of the details of the past so I know them with certainty. It bothers me not to be accurate and it’s way too easy to remember inaccurately, or never to have known clearly in the first place.

The Edge of Seventeen

I just watched The Edge of Seventeen on Netflix and, while it was relatively predictable, liked it a lot. Good acting and a good inside look at the kind of motivation that a teenage girl might have for acting nuts and how that nuttiness might appear. Seemed familiar enough.

The weak point might be that she was jealous of her brother years before their father died while driving with her in the car. It’s just that afterward she couldn’t see what her brother was going through being the strong, dependable one.

For a while it seems like it might be a movie about the girl needing to get laid. It’s more nuanced, in that she really needs a relationship of her own, as well as healing her family ties after things reach a crescendo. The guy was right there all along if she could see it.

It’s extremely well cast and acted. Woody Harrelson is fantastic and kind of the hero of the whole thing. What he really does is replace her father as that figure in her life.

The mother is lost and frankly nuts herself. Arguably always was. She manages to subtly pull herself together, but we don’t get to see a full reconciliation with her daughter.

Something I observed during the movie was my attention span. During the first 2/3 of it I was flipping back and forth to other things, listening to all of it and watching enough to feel like I wasn’t missing anything. I do that more and more lately, depending how things grab me. I’ve even done that for much briefer, less frequent bits of The Orville, not counting commercials. Which can be entertaining to hear and sometimes will provoke me to flip back to and watch if I’m curious.

I had trouble with the sound. I need new speakers, if not a new computer. For most of it I had Netflix turned up all the way, the computer turned up almost all the way, and the speakers are always turned up most of the way. I still could only just hear it enough, and it was way too variable. Common with movies.

It kind of falls almost in the romantic comedy genre, but more dramatic. It falls into the teen movie category generally, and the angst/relationships teen movie genre particularly. It’s the kind of thing I generally like, if I watch it. During my movie going heyday circa 1998 or so, I saw almost everything, so I’d have gone to this if it were then. I’ve been a lot more selective for many years. Disposable income went away and I was particularly intent on being out of the house at the time. That was how I saw Next Stop Wonderland in its blink and you’ll miss it theatrical release. Great movie.

Temptation Eyes

Or: One of My Stranger Misheard Lyrics.

When The Grass Roots came out with Temptation Eyes in 1970, I just loved it. It’s so catchy. It never gained any special association with an individual. It was too early for that. I know I heard it partly via my brother, but it didn’t really stick as a song associated with him. One of the guys in the band actually reminds me of him in appearance.

Later I associated I’d Wait a Million Years with Daphne, appropriately, since I’d have had to wait that long. Midnight Confessions came to be associated with the wife’s wandering back when it was at its height and I was at my most irritated and hurt about it. I had an entire playlist of songs for that. (Speaking of, I love when I’m banging away at the keyboard and she starts talking, so I keep pausing to try to remember what I was thinking and saying, then bang furiously some more before the thought can slip again, rinse and repeat, as during these two paragraphs up to about where I started this parenthetical. But if I can do that, it beats all the times I’ve been trying to type something and just had to stop, never again to remember my train of thought.)

So the funny lyric things? Remember I turned 9 in 1970. Then they sing “I want her all for myself” with the words somewhat slurred, I was hearing “I wanna roffle myself.” Roffle?! I had no idea what they were saying. Now we have ROFL, so if you hear roffle it might be ROFL. It didn’t take long for me to figure it out. Not years and years and needing the web to do so, at least. Too funny.

I’m surprised the song didn’t chart higher. At the time they were current, this and Sooner or Later were the songs I knew them for. Two Divided By Love, too! How could I forget that. It was another from my separation playlist.

 

But What’s The Plot?

I’ve been thinking a lot about a variant on the type of story seen in Melody or Moonrise Kingdom, based as a starting point on personal experience and local settings of the time. I’d need to start by putting it into writing as a fleshed out story, not by having grandiose ideas that I could go right to a screenplay. However, it’s helping me to visualize how it might play out on screen. I’d already found myself using that trick for a story set back similarly far in time, with kids suspiciously like my own and a younger me running into each other because science fiction. I’ve even thought of integrating the two ideas to some degree.

I realized that I am not sure I have a point. For me personally it’s nostalgia and what might have been. What is the audience getting from it? What do they get from the others?

I haven’t watched all of Moonrise Kingdom, but I’ve watched clips and seen it dissected and so forth. It’s partly a personality study and shows that the two of them complete and kind of heal each other. They also help the community they are part of… grow up, or something like that. It’s a stylized presentation. It shows the importance of rituals, even if they aren’t legally binding, in a way that Melody never manages or attempts to talk about. It will forever be important to Daniel and Melody, and leave a lasting tie between them, that they were “married.” It doesn’t matter that it’s not legal. It doesn’t matter that it was performed by a friend, in front of a group of friends and classmates. It doesn’t matter that Ornshaw never finished saying “…man and wife.” It doesn’t matter if they remain an item or ever marry for real, though that would make it even more special.

Perhaps it’s about the importance of family and about being understood. I really have to watch Moonrise Kingdom soon. From what I have seen, it looks like I might find it both less charming and relatable, and more coherent than Melody.

Melody is about love, mostly. Love of friends. Puppy love or romantic love, depending how seriously you take it at that age. Some have said the real story is the relationship between Orshaw and Daniel, which tosses out class distinctions (which also exist with Melody, who is a happier middle between the two boys), and which survives Melody, despite having been threatened by the girlfriend coming between them.

It’s about how serious love between the kids is, to the kids, in the face of adults being old miseries. It’s about how ridiculous the adults seem, to the kids, and in fact are more objectively. Yes, it’s a nostalgia trip to when many of us felt that way, looked through that window and saw That Girl who stopped our world in its tracks. Or had That Boy look at us like that and found ourselves taken with the fact that he was “quite a nice boy, really.”

I’m still not sure I see the rebellion as being anything but support for the rest of the story. It did notice, speaking of little details, and forgot to mention that at the end it’s not the groups of boys and girls, but a group of all the kids, celebrating the same end, having wanted the same thing. Maybe I’m missing something.

Incomplete, inaccurate, or varying in mileage as my offhand conclusions may be, they represent something that’s a takeaway from the films. I need not only a climax to the story, more dramatic than boy likes girl, girl reciprocates, they hang out, things get in the way, they run off to the woods or something, they are found, people are sorry they picked on poor Rudolph., but also something learned or demonstrated. Or I’m over-analyzing and could have been an English major instead of an accounting major. Accounting is never analytical, after all.

This is the part I find myself thinking about now. Characters, including supporting characters, their motivations, their interactions, and the outcome and lessons of it all.