Sunday, July 22, 2007

This is why I hate Barry Bonds




The Natural just came on. I love this movie on so many levels. First, there's Redford looking better than a body has a right to. But let's go beyond that.

This movie is about baseball. In it's best and purest sense. It's about the individual excelling beyond his personal best. It's about the team. It's about right and wrong, lust and virtue. It's Americana, tradition and continuity. The movie begins with Roy playing catch with his dad and ends with Roy playing catch with his son.

Roy gets shot, not a shot in the ass. Roy gets poisoned, but not by Balco.

It's not just that Bonds is a cheat that bothers me. Nor that he's a petulant asshole. It's that he's Bobby Bonds' son. I go back to the first and final scenes of The Natural. Father and son. Generation to generation. I just hate that it's despoiled by steroids.

I am a Cub fan because my grandparents were Cub fans and my parents are Cub fans. We fought about politics and religion, but generation after generation, we call Wrigley Field home. My grandmother's favorite player of all time (even more than Mr. Cub himself, Ernie Banks) was Ryne Sandberg. The lady LOVED her Ryno. At her wake, the neighbors commented on how cute the old girl looked, gardening in her #23 Cubs jacket. I insisted her floral arrangement included a cluster of Cubbie blue in the center. Now when I go to Wrigley Field and see the #23 pennant flying overhead, in honor of Sandberg's retired number, I think of her. And Grandpa. Even my father. All the departed members of my family who watch from above.

Corny? OK. But so is this movie, including John Williams' score. I bet Bonds would never sit through this sentimental, idealized, mythological view of baseball. And that's why, when he inevitably breaks Hank Aaron's record, no one's soul will be stirred. It will be no big deal. I take comfort in knowing someone (A-Rod maybe?) will surpass Bonds soon and all this will just be a bad memory.

A good way to support our troops


There seems to be a sense out there in the blogosphere that the best way to support our troops is to pretend that this war has been well run up until now and is moving a positive direction.

I disagree.

The best way to support our troops is to let them know that you appreciate their sacrifice and that they are in your thoughts. You can do this easily by visiting Operation Shoebox.

This wonderful group has the goal of one shoebox for every soldier. The boxes contain personal care items (everything from baby wipes to nasal spray), playing cards, postcards and notecards and (my favorite to send) condiment packets to liven up those MREs.

C'mon! Who doesn't have catsup or mustard packets in a kitchen drawer? Is there any easier way to support soldiers slogging their way through an unpopular war. Toss those into a padded envelope, along with a check made out to Operation Shoebox (to help them pay for postage), and send it to:

Operation Shoebox
PO Box 1465
Belleview, FL 34421-1465

The entire list of what's needed/accepted, and details about the organization, can be found on their website.

You can be heartsick about this war but still heartened by the courage of our all-volunteer Army. Or you can show your support for the war effort with something other than rhetoric. No matter where you stand on this controversial issue, you can do something lovely for little or no cost.

I promise it will make you feel better.

Unconscious Mutterings #4

I say ... and you think ... ?

1. Deputy :: Barney Fife
2. Name :: Brand
3. Arrested :: Development
4. Trade :: Barter
5. Old :: School
6. Fingerprint :: Pawprint
7. Dwarf :: Dopey
8. Newspaper :: Tribune
9. Gabriel :: Angel
10. Certificate :: Birth


For more information, or to play yourself, visit Unconscious Mutterings

If you're in the mood for REALLY desperate housewives ...

When it comes to the movies, I really don't have a mind of my own. Once the Oscar nominations are announced, I head like a lemming to the theater or the video store to see all the honored flicks.

It's taken me a while, but I finally got to Little Children, nominated for 3 Oscars last year (best actress, best supporting actor and adapted screenplay).

I cannot think of enough adjectives for Kate Winslet's performance as a suburban housewife who could not hate her life more. At the beginning of the movie, in her scenes at the playground, you can almost feel her suffocating outdoors. When she falls in love, or perhaps chooses to fall in love, she seems to protect the first real feelings she's experienced in ages the way a mother hen protects her precious nest. And I was especially moved by the way she set her book club back on their heels with her explanation of Madame Bovary. It's as though she's playing a 21st century Rose, suffering through the very fate Jack supposedly saved her from the night a certain famous boat went down.

Jennifer Connelly is a beautiful, decent, talented working wife and mother who doesn't know how to protect her family. Watch her eyes. She understands everything that's going on around her, even if she doesn't articulate it.

Jackie Earle Haley plays a convicted sex offender whose presence not only frightens the parents, it gives them something to do. He's an often sympathetic but not remotely nice man, probably the way real sex offenders who have served their time are as they try to re-enter society. He's played by the runt kid from the 1980s cycling movie Breaking Away. His return to films is powerful and sad.

As is this entire movie. Is it good? Yes, it's exceptional. But it's as dark as the DVD case. I enjoyed Live Free or Die Hard much more. Sometimes I don't want to ... think.

For those of you who wonder what I look like ...

HERE I AM! Can't tell you how much my hats annoy people on the el at rush hour.

Okay, okay … maybe that's not an accurate physical representation of This Old Gal. But Streisand in Hello, Dolly! does provide a creditable reflection of my personality.

Because I am politically left of center, rather verbal, always right about everything and come home every night, hoping to find a hot blond sailor boy nude in my bed, there are those who believe Streisand in The Way We Were is more accurate. But that's only because they aren't familiar with Dolly Levi.

Like Dolly, I have control issues. Few things bother me, perplex and distract me more than a problem I can't resolve, a relationship I can't fix, a puzzle I can't solve. So when my friends and family are navigating rough waters (as they all seem to be doing these days), and I can't make it all better, I go slowly crazy. Because (cue the band) …

"I have always been a woman who arranges things,
for the pleasure--and the profit--it derives.
I have always been a woman who arranges things,
like furniture and daffodils and lives.

If you want your sister courted, brother wed, or cheese imported,
Just leave everything to me.
If you want your roof inspected, eyebrows tweezed, or bills collected,
Just leave everything to me.
If you want your daughter dated, or some marriage consummated,
for a rather modest fee.
If you want a husband spotted, boyfriend traced, or chicken potted,
I'll arrange for making all arrangements
Just leave everything to me.

I'll discretely use my own discretion
I'll arrange for making all arrangements
I'll proceed to plan the whole procedure
Just leave everything to me!"

Lyrics by Jerry Herman