So disappointing

 On these blustery winter afternoons, it's fun to remember the glory days of last summer when the boys of Jackie Robinson West brought the Little League World Championship here to Chicago.

Or is was fun to remember. Until Little League International announced they'd stripped the kids of their title.

The adults in their lives screwed up. The adults in their lives let them down. The adults in their lives broke the rules by recruiting players from outside the city limits to play on the team.

This sucks big time.

The boys who practiced and drilled after school, who played their hearts out on the field and behaved like perfect gentlemen off of it, deserve better from the adults in their lives.

I hate this so much.

I may never eat again

Last night my dear old friend Barb took me to dinner. I hadn't seen her since fall. I think this is the longest we've gone without getting together in 20 years. It was good to catch up.

She chose the restaurant -- a steakhouse called Rosebud Prime. She told me I could have everything I wanted, and I settled on the cowboy steak. (After all, yesterday was the 100th anniversary Lorne Greene's birth. I had to honor Pa somehow.) It was thick and juicy and wonderful.

So were the sides. We ordered lots of sides. Spinach salad and sweet potato fries and mashed potatoes and asparagus spears. I had a pair of Moscow Mules, she had a margarita and a glass of wine. We even had dessert. It was positively decadent. We couldn't get through all the food so I woke up this morning and discovered all the delicious leftovers I'd stowed in my frig last night.

It was good to find out about her life. She's been overwhelmed by work -- even more so than she always is. But she's happy with her husband and happy with their vacation home in Hilton Head. She even did the Polar Bear Plunge into the Atlantic Ocean on New Year's Day!

It was a nice time, but I did feel kinda crappy this morning. I can't eat and drink anymore like I used to.

Thursday Thirteen #230

THIRTEEN PHRASES WE DON'T USE ANYMORE

1) "Would you prefer smoking or non-smoking?"

2) "Do you have a pay phone?"

3) "The Walkman ate my cassette tape."

4) "The picture tube blew."

5) "I got this with Green Stamps."

6) "Be kind. Rewind."

7) "Operator, get me the police."

8) "I can use a paperclip to eject that floppy."

9) "Here comes the milk man."

10) "I need a new needle for the record player."

11)  "Adjust the rabbit ears."

12) "I have to defrost the freezer."

13) "I hate how it tastes to lick a stamp."

Can you add any more?

Please join us for The NEW THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

This meme is no more. And yet I persist in answering the three questions it asked each week. Stubborn, ain't I?

• What are you currently reading? Wake by Anna Hope. I just picked it up, so I can't vouch for the quality yet. But it's about three women in London, 1920, "dealing with the aftershocks of World War I and the impact on the men in their lives."

 

• What did you recently finish reading? The Cracker Factory by Joyce Rebeta-Burditt. Written in the late 1970s, this book about an alcoholic housewife's stay in a sanitarium ("The Cracker Factory" of the title) is very dated. First of all, everyone smokes. Patients, doctors, everybody! I was a little concerned about the hospital giving possibly suicidal patients matches, but beyond that, I couldn't get past how awful that hospital must have smelled! And then there was the "you're like OJ Simpson" reference, which at the time meant graceful and efficient.

Still, I enjoyed the book. It was funny and very compassionate toward its characters, even the ones it was hard to like at times. I became rather fond of our heroine, Cassie, because while she was clever and very funny, she was also very flawed and in some ways quite ordinary, which made her easy to relate to.

• What will you read next? I think I'll return to my own private library. That's how I stumbled upon The Cracker Factory. I wonder what forgotten gems are hiding in my den!

Well, that was a first

Since I don't drive, I take cabs all the time. It's unusual for a week to go by without me in the backseat of one taxi or another … either because public transportation doesn't go to where I'm headed or it's not safe at that hour or I've cut it too close.

Yesterday something happened to me while taking a cab that's never happened before: My cab driver refused to leave me alone at the address where he dropped me off.

The Comcast customer service location nearest my home was only 5 miles and 15 minutes (in traffic) in distance but a lifestyle away. I knew the neighborhood had a bad reputation, but I didn't realize how bad. Or how well deserved.

Here I was at an office building in a strip mall at 10:00 on a sunny Tuesday morning, and the cabbie said, "I will wait for you here for half an hour. No charge."

I told him not to worry about it, that I had my cell phone and would call for another cab when I was done.

"No cab driver will pick you up here. I'll wait for you. No charge."

I went into the service center, saw the line, and ran back out to the cab. "There's a line," I said, "you should go."

The cabbie gave me a small, chilled bottle of water to drink while I waited in line, told me he would go out on another call, but would meet me right here. "Do not worry," he said.

I wasn't worried. It was cold but bright and sunny morning and I couldn't see any harm coming to me in this standard-issue strip mall (though, come to think of it, all the other storefronts were abandoned). But he was insistent. So he drove off (without my having paid him a cent yet) and came back just as he promised and drove me home, charging me $28 for the round trip.

This morning I checked the crime stats in that neighborhood and it's sobering. Statewide in Illinois, there are 38.1 crimes per square mile. In this neighborhood, there are 389 ... more than 10x the average.

So I'm grateful to my over protective cab driver for taking such good care of me (and for the bottled water)

Paging Adam

Here I thought I'd just become unpopular.  I hadn't received a call on my landline since the Saturday  when we learned Ernie Banks had died. Turns out there was trouble with my phone service.

On Sunday I spent a crazy long time on my cell phone with Comcast customer service. It was a frustrating experience because the rep -- though very nice and polite -- spoke in very heavily accented English and we had a difficult time understanding one another. After doing a series of remote diagnostics, he reported that the problem was with my phone. I accepted that. It was a cheap model purchased from Radio Shack more than two years ago and I don't know how long these things are supposed to last. Back in Bell Telephone's glory days, a phone would last decades, but those days are long gone.

So on Monday I went to Staples and bought a lovely new phone, on sale, for about $60. I was happy. I charged it. I plugged it in. It didn't work.

At dawn this morning I was back on the phone with Comcast customer service. I got a different man who responded to my problems from foreign shores who did the same diagnostics -- ignoring my cries of "no, no!" and "wait, wait!" -- and told me the problem was with my phone.

IT CAN'T BE! IT WAS A NEW PHONE WITH ALL NEW CORDS!

I told him I wanted a new modem. He told me I could get a new one for free if I went to "the nearest Comcast service center." Which he looked up for me. Turns out the nearest isn't anywhere near me. It's a $14 cab ride to a terrible neighborhood.

I got the brand-new, cellophane-wrapped modem home, hooked it up, and called Comcast customer service to activate it. The phone worked. Hurray! But now the computer was non-responsive. It took, literally, an hour on the phone to customer service to get everything I pay for.

So from dawn until 2:00 PM, I was concentrating on Comcast. It was the waste of a day off from work. It was exasperating.

And so I did what I do, and sent my mind to the happy place. I couldn't decide, though, exactly where the happy place was. I knew I wanted a competent cowboy to rescue me. That's a given. But did I want a new millennium hero who wouldn't be overwhelmed by the demands of today's technology? Or would I prefer to travel back to the 19th century, when life moved at a slower pace, and if I wanted to pick up my messages, I'd climb upon my horse and ride into town to the telegraph office?

"Baby has a yellow shirt!"

One of my coworkers had her baby last week. A son, to go with her two-year-old daughter. It's her daughter that's been on my mind since the latest arrival.

Her daughter sounds very willful. As two year olds will be. The tales of her diva behavior have reliably amused me. My favorite: Recently she demanded egg yolks and cheese for every meal because "yellow is best."

It makes me sad to think of how being a big sister is necessarily going to impinge on her "center of the universe" outlook. At two, she couldn't possibly have understood what a sibling would mean, no matter how hard Mommy and Daddy tried to explain it.

And so I sent this doll to her. I figured if she had a baby of her own to care for, it would take some of the sting out of sharing Mommy and Daddy with that howling, yowling little blue bundle. 

Her mother tells me the doll was hitsville, even accompanying her to "Show and Share Friday," which is the biggest event on the weekly daycare center calendar. My eye for sartorial detail was not lost on her. Mommy reports that the first thing she said when handed the doll is, "Baby has a yellow shirt!"

I must have looked at that email and the photo of her clutching Baby under her arm a dozen times since Friday. That thing they say about it being better to give than to receive is, sometimes, very true.

What I was reading in the Spring of 1986

I locked myself in the den and spent an hour going through my books. I am parting with three bags full of paperbacks and hardcovers. Sigh. I hate doing it.

In concept, that is. In reality, it's not so hard.

Take, for example, Martina Navritalova's 1985 autobiography. I don't care much about Russia,* nor have I been interested in tennis since Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe retired. Yet for some reason, I bought and read this book. I found the ATM receipt and Burger King coupons -- which expired in September, 1986 -- that I used as bookmarks.

Judging by the bookmarks, I did plough through it. But I remember nothing about it and will never read it again. And so it's off to Goodwill. With bags and bags of others.

I have more books to go through. And then there are the audiobooks. But I'm done for tonight. What I've put aside is already too much for the bus and will require a $12 cab ride. I promised myself I'd take one bag of stuff over to Goodwill every month in 2015, and this is one resolution I'll make good on.

*Sorry, but I never have. I have a very American-centric world view.

Sunday Stealing

To play along, click here.

What TV gameshow/reality show would you like to be on? Wheel of Fortune. Isn't that the most criminally easy show?

What was the first movie you bought in VHS or DVD? I'm sorry but I don't remember. The first movie I saw on cable was In Praise of Older Women. Do I get points for that?

If you had one million dollars to spend only on yourself, what would you spend it on? I'd redo my condo, get season tickets at Wrigley Field, and worry a lot less about retirement.

One place you've visited, can't forget and want to go back to? Since the King's 80th birthday, I've been considering a return to Graceland.

Do you trust easily? Probably more than I should.

Do you generally think before you act, or act before you think?  Probably less than I should.

Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days? There's been a lot of drama at work and it's been weighing on me. But hopefully it's behind us.

Do you have a good body image? No. And nor should I.

What is your favorite fruit? It changes. I'm going through a banana phase these days.

I’m always being asked… if my eyes are really that green.

The last big belly laugh I had was… during the movie Whiplash, which I just saw at the theater. Specifically the line was, "Four words you'll never hear from the NFL."

What websites do you visit daily? Amazon, news feeds, the web roll at right ...

What have you been seriously addicted to lately? Salted chocolate

What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is? I wasn't tagged.

What's the last song that got stuck in your head? "Go Ask Alice." I have no idea why. "Remember what the doormouse said: feed your head, feed your head ..."

Favorite clothing? Jeans

 Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy? No, I think they're rather bland.

What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground? 

Items you couldn't go without during the day? Coke, my tunes, my cats
 

What should you be doing right now? So many things! I promised myself I'd sort through my books today. (I have a lot of books.)

Feeling much better about it all

"Our anger is overcome by our faith."

So said our minister this morning. He was talking about his rage when over the Jordanian pilot who was burned alive by ISIS. He said he was wiping his kitchen counter when he heard the news, and told us that his reaction was so strong that, had he been washing dishes at that moment his household would have had service for seven, not eight.

But it passed. He understands that terrorism is born of fear and deprivation, and that our love and faith are stronger and will prevail.

It's the sermon I wanted to hear -- needed to hear -- last month, right after the slaughter at Charlie Hebdo in Paris. Ironically this morning's home run was hit by our associate minister, the same man who disappointed me last month. He was at the pulpit again this week because our regular minister was spending the service with the Sunday School students.

I feel better. I feel happier. I heard that a more learned man than I wrestles with these issues, and he taught me how to work through it by sharing how he works through it.

This is why I go to church. I felt lighter when I left the building.

Saturday 9

A Sleepin' Bee

1) This song is about the wonder of first love. How would you describe the sensation of falling in love? It's overwhelming. It crowds out all other thoughts and feelings.  You can focus on nothing else. And you are gloriously good with this.

2) This 1957 album was the first Diahann Carroll ever recorded. More recently she recorded "A, You're Adorable," a nursery rhyme. (The lyrics are here.) Give us some words to a children's song that remain in your head to this day. With every job that must done there is an element of fun. You find the fun and SNAP! The job's a game! And every task you undertake becomes a piece of cake. A lark! A spree! It's very clear to see that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down ... I could go on because I loved everything Mary did or said.

3) 1957 was the peak of the Baby Boom (1946 to 1964). Are you a Boomer, a Gen X-er, a Gen Y-er, or a Millennial? Boomer

4) In 1974, Diahann was named to the Best Coiffed Hall of Fame by the Guild of Professional Beauticians. How often do you change your look? It's an impulse thing with me. Last time I radically changed my hair style was a year ago, in the depths of last winter with its record breaking snow and cold. I needed to do something -- anything! -- to cheer myself up. That's how I know this winter isn't as bad: I haven't started flipping through Modern Salon.

5) Ms. Carroll made history as Julia in the first network TV show to star a black woman. She played a nurse. Do you/have you ever worked in the healthcare profession? Nope

6) She also played glamorous, scheming Dominique Deveraux on the nighttime soap, Dynasty. Who is the most memorable female villain you've ever seen in a TV show or movie? Cruella D'Evil, Cruella D'Evil, if she doesn't scare you, no evil thing will. She is, of course, from 101 Dalmations. She's the anti-Mary Poppins.

7) Ms. Carroll began her career as a model. Her height (nearly 6' tall) is an asset in that profession. Are you pleased with your height? Or do you wish you were taller, or shorter? I'm very nearly 5'2. I wish I was tall and willowy.

8) Now in her 80th year, she keeps on working. Recently she's appeared on TV in Grey's Anatomy and Blue Collar and on the big screen in Tyler Perry Presents Peeples. How do you feel about retirement? Is it something you enjoy or look forward to? Or would you prefer to continue working? I used to think I'd forever want to keep working, but as I approach the finish line I fantasize about what I'll do with the free time. I hope I'm productive, and that I won't use it to just sit and play Farmville all day.

9) In her long movie career, Ms. Carroll has played love scenes with some very good looking men, including Sidney Poitier and Billy Dee Williams. If you could steal a kiss from any actor or actress, who would choose? Mark Harmon. If you happen to see him, tell him I love him.

Thursday Thirteen #229

THIRTEEN AFFORDABLE BABY GIFTS

Over the last six months or so I've purchased more baby shower gifts than I have in the last decade. I've noticed that what new moms want today has changed since around the turn of the millennium, when I last spent time wandering the aisles at Target and Toys R Us. Instead of the receiving blankets and washcloths I used to give parents-to-be, this is what I've found on modern moms' registries.

All of these can be purchased for under $25.

1) Swaddles make it easy to wrap Baby snugly, enhancing the little one's sense of warmth and security.

2) Pacifiers. Parents will appreciate it if you choose the ones made with BpA-, phthalate- and PVC-free materials.

3) Dishwasher baskets make it easy to toss bottles, nipples and pacifiers into the dishwasher.  

4) Grass drying rack. It's a square of tall plastic grass that looks good on the kitchen counter while giving those bottles, nipples and pacifiers a place to air dry.

5) Hooded towels are an oldie but goodie, still appreciated for keeping Baby comfortable after bath.

6) Matching bootie and mitten sets. Feel free to buy as many cute prints as you wish because you can bet one set will always be in the wash. 

7) Crib sheets are always needed because, well, see above.

8) Bibs another old standard that's always needed because, well, see above.

9) Plastic clacker toys. They're colorful, they make noise, and they're so much easier to keep clean than plush toys.

10) Natural wood rattles are lightweight and can double as a safe BpA-, phthalate- and PVC-free teether.

11) "Touch and feel" board books. It used to be that Pat the Bunny was the only one easy to find at major retailers, but there are may more titles available now. I like the idea of giving Baby an old-school book because you can't learn about textures on a tablet.

12) Lavender bath and lotion. Lavender is popular because the scent is comforting for both Baby and Bather.

13) Gift cards. Toys R Us, Target and Amazon seem especially appreciated because parents can use them online and take advantage of home delivery.

Please join us for The NEW THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

I am not MIss Melly

I found myself on the train home tonight with The Saddest Boy in the World. This sad sack neighbor simply sucks the life out of me.

His job at Macy's doesn't pay enough ... he was too sick to attend any of our recent condo association meetings but he doesn't like the changes the board is considering ... he doesn't like our  janitor ... the snow is hard on his feet ...

45 fucking minutes of this.

The only upbeat moment was when we discovered we both go to the same dentist. When dental work is the high point, you know you're in conversation hell.

I got home, watched NCIS, and fell asleep. Being around him literally sapped my energy.

I feel like a bitch because I only spend time with him every six to nine months and even this slight exposure puts my teeth on edge.

I know he's lonely. He's living alone in the apartment he once shared with his long-ill mother. He has so little in his life. And yet just spending a commute from the Loop with him makes me crazy.

Melanie Wilkes wouldn't feel this way. Miss Melly, that paragon of virtue from Gone with the Wind, saw the good in everyone. She believed we were each doing our best. She is who I want to be, and I always fall short.

The thing of it is, though, the Saddest Boy in the World doesn't know how I feel. Inwardly I may recoil every time I see him but outwardly I'm polite and friendly.

So while I may not be Melly on the inside, I appeared rather like her on the outside. That counts for something.

Don't harsh my fantasy with reality

It's funny how revelations dawn on me, and I'm forever surprised by the messenger that brings them.

I've learned that I am tired. I used to be very proud of my independence, and while I still value it, I've concluded that it's a double-edged sword. I'm not lonely, for there's no one that I know or that I've ever met that I want to spend more of my life with. I just wish life was easier. And I'm tired.

How did I reach these conclusions? By watching Bonanza. While stuck in bed with a summer cold, I realized that when the Cubs weren't playing I could watch Bonanza at least twice a day. Part of the appeal was nostalgia. (We used to watch it as a family when I was a kid.) Part of it was laziness. (Where did I leave the remote?) Part of it was the allure of the times. (Ah, to have my own horse!) Part of it was men in tight pants. (See? Westerns and baseball do have something in common.)

As I got more into the show, I became fascinated by how amazingly, consistently competent the Cartwright men were. Really, over 13 seasons and 430 episodes, nothing happened that these guys couldn't handle.

My favorite Cartwright is Adam. To see why, watch Jack Knife, an episode from season 3. In the space of an hour, he comes upon an injured man in the road, correctly identifies his malady as broken ribs, and gets the stranger home. There he takes charge because he knows how anesthetize the poor guy with whiskey and bandage his ribs with a torn bedsheet. Then he moves into the man's barn and proceeds to repair a fence ... replace a window ... teach the man's young son how to chop wood ... give a demonstration of target shooting and a lecture about the responsible use of firearms ... solve the mystery of the cattle rustlers ... defend the wife's honor ... help the man and his wife reconcile ... restore the man in his young son's eyes ...

Hell, he's the perfect combination of Bob Vila and Mary Poppins in a pair of fetching black jeans.

I want one.

So then, the question becomes, why don't I have a one?

Because there is no such man.

A real man wouldn't just show up when I needed him to fix things, share his wisdom, and, well, in the parlance of the time, "romance" me. An actual human would happen to be around even when I didn't want him here. He would have faults and execute bodily functions. He would be imperfect. (After all, the actor who played Adam was prematurely bald.) I'm afraid at this stage in my life I have no tolerance for masculine frailty or folderol.

Which is why I've come to the conclusion that my latest geek obsession isn't fueled by simple lust.  What I'm longing for is more profound: rescue.

I've been completely self supporting since I was 17. I lived in a family where my self sufficiency was the thing about me that was lauded and rewarded. "At least the Gal can take care of herself." I've carried that into my adult life. The men I've been involved with have unfailingly appreciated that I'm neither clingy nor dependent.

Consequently it's hard for me to ask for help. I was tremendously moved by Elizabeth Edwards' book, Saving Graces: Finding Solace and Strength from Friends and Strangers, because she writes so unsparingly of her own heartbreaks and hardships and how she learned to reach out. I have successfully begun doing that. When things have been tough, I have called on friends and they have never let me down.

But it's the day-to-day that's wearing on me. When the paycheck I get on the 31st just doesn't stretch until the 15th, I'd like Adam to cover my bills. When my bedframe collapsed right before I was to leave for vacation, I want Adam to fix it.*

In the 1970s, there was an ad campaign for bath beads. Overstressed women would cry out, "Calgon, take me away!"

Me? My admittedly retro fantasy is to see these four riding across the meadow, ready to come to my rescue. And I'm good with this. Sigh.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to put on my boots and trudge through even more falling snow to catch the el, where I won't get a seat. But in my imagination, Adam's buggy will be out front and of course he'll lift me into it. Because, well, we can't have these feet getting wet, can we?

*He actually does repair a bedframe in season six, an episode called Woman of Fire. No shit, this man can do anything.

And I'm on the fourth floor

Here's the Super Bowl Sunday view from my living room. That's 13" of snow on my windowsill. We got 18" on the ground. I thought it was quite thrilling.

Of course, I don't have to shovel it or drive in it. That might account for my fondness for the white stuff.

And say what you will about Mayor Rahm (and people sure do), he keeps the streets plowed and the sidewalks salted.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Now that January 2015 is one for the record books, it's time to look back at how I'm doing with my resolution to work out, save money and improve my personal environment.

The Good. This being more careful with my money thing is working out well. By being more thoughtful about where I spend and what I spend it on, I was able to save $40, which I put toward my Associated Bank Visa card. It's easier and more satisfying than I thought it would be.

The Bad. I haven't kept up with cleaning and purging. I've been too exhausted by drama. There's been drama at work and drama with my condo association and it's been too easy and too comforting to just curl up on my lumpy futon and crash.

The Ugly. I haven't worked out with my trainer in months, and the weight I lost before Christmas is back. I eat way too much salt and sugar. I must stop this.

I'm trying not to slide into self-shaming. I fucked up. So be it. February is a new month. All I can do is redouble my efforts to stay Good and ease some of my Bad and Ugly behavior over.

31 Days of Oscar Blogathon -- Oscar Snubs

 

Bruce Willis reminds me of Cary Grant.

Now hear me out!

Both have impeccable timing and are highly adept with rapid fire dialog. Each moves with unexpected grace. Both disappear completely into character and make acting look easy. And, no matter how much success they enjoyed at the box office, neither got much love from Oscar in the competitive category.*

In his entire 34 year career, Grant received 
two lonely Oscar nominations 

and didn't win either time.

Bruce has been making movies for 28 years 
and has received nary a one.

I can think of two roles that could easily have placed Bruce Willis in the running for an Oscar. Both of these performances contributed enormously to the artistic and commercial success of their films, and both of these movies were nominated for Best Picture. And yet no nomination for Bruce.

1994. Pulp Fiction. Butch Coolidge. When Pulp Fiction was made and originally promoted, Bruce Willis was its only star. Travolta's career was still moribund. Samuel L. Jackson was not yet a household name. Uma Thurman was a celebrity with a pretty face but not a serious actress. Bruce Willis was the Emmy winner (Moonlighting) who'd left TV and become an action star of the first magnitude with Die Hard and The Last Boy Scout.

It's a chopper, Baby, and Zed's dead

We now know Pulp Fiction as a major success and a cultural touchstone. But at the time, a non-linear narrative soaked with kinky sex, illicit drugs and lots of blood was a very risky choice for a star. If not for Bruce Willis' early and enthusiastic participation, Tarantino would have had a much harder time getting financing and distribution.

As Butch, Bruce plays a boxer with an elastic moral code who -- instead of throwing the match, as gangster Marsellus paid him to do -- actually kills his opponent.

And that is one of the more savory and explicable things that happens to Butch. How to describe what goes on in the basement of Maynard's pawn shop, where Butch has an unforgettable encounter with Marsellus, Zed and The Gimp? It's ugly, it's horrifying and yet somehow Bruce still makes it funny at times.

Like when the bloody Butch wordlessly works his way through the pawn shop, trying to find the right weapon to avenge/liberate Marsellus. Hammer? Bat? Chain saw? He looks up catches sight of the katana. It's love at first sight. He breathlessly takes it down and removes it from its sheath, sensuously enjoying the the very feel of it in his hands. (Please don't make me report what happens next.)

He's as believable when he's brutal as he is when he's tender. His lover, Fabienne, is staggeringly obtuse yet he's endlessly patient with her. Think of when he asks her whether she got her favorite blueberry pancakes for breakfast, or explains that no, he didn't get his cracked rib from giving her "oral pleasure," or when he reassures her it's not her fault that she left his most treasured possession -- his father's watch -- behind. As Butch, Bruce Willis gives a virtuoso performance.

While Pulp Fiction got seven Oscar nominations, Bruce's daring yet unerringly authentic turn got overlooked. Seen today, Bruce is every bit as good as the nominated John Travolta. But imagining what it was like to watch Pulp Fiction 20 years ago, Travolta may have seemed like the revelation. It would have been a thrill to have him back, doing the twist with his joie de vivre in tact, while it was easy to take Bruce Willis for granted in 1994 since he had been working steadily, almost frenetically, in front of the cameras for the past decade.

Along with Travolta, the nominees for Best Actor that year were:
•  Winner Tom Hanks (Forrest Gump)
•  Paul Newman for his charming and subtle turn in Nobody's Fool (where he was supported by Mr. Willis)
•  Morgan Freeman in Shawshank Redemption
•  Nigel Hawthorne for The Madness of King George.

I haven't seen Hawthorne's performance, so I have nothing to say about it, but I can see bumping Morgan Freeman for Bruce. I'm not sure Freeman's wasn't a supporting role and perhaps he was in the wrong category.

1999. The Sixth Sense. Dr. Malcolm Crowe. Even though by the end of the 90s we knew him best as a wise-cracking action hero, we never doubt for a moment that he's a soft-spoken, compassionate psychologist devoted to children. His domestic scenes with screen wife Anna are touching in their longing and diffidence. He captures that feeling we've each had when we feel like we're standing on the shore, watching someone we love float farther and farther away.

Most of all, I love his scenes with Haley Joel Osment. Dr. Crowe addresses young Cole Sear with respect and patience but never an ounce of condescension. When Cole shares his secrets with the psychiatrist, beginning with "small" ones about being bullied and leading up to the big reveal that gave us an unforgettable tagline ("I see dead people"), Willis is a compassionate stand-in for the audience. He's hearing it. He's absorbing it. He's shocked by the revelations and at the same time impressed by his young patient's courage and decency. Osment never received such glowing reviews again, and I wonder if it's because he never again found himself paired with an actor as sensitive and attuned to a child actor.

At the Oscars, The Sixth Sense earned six nominations, but Bruce came up empty. The Best Actor category that year ended up being a horse race between far showier performances: Denzel Washington in Hurricane and ultimate winner Kevin Spacey in American Beauty. The other three nominees -- Russell Crowe in The Insider, Richard Farnsworth in The Straight Story and Sean Penn in Sweet and Lowdown -- were all from smaller, artier movies and I suspect that Bruce was hurt by his massive commercial success in Armageddon and The Fifth Element the previous year.

It's too bad he was damned for his box office performance, because he used the clout it gave him wisely. Before working with Bruce, M. Night Shyamalan had even fewer credits than pre-Pulp Tarantino. Yet Bruce, fresh off two of his biggest hits, snapped at the opportunity to work with this virtual unknown, ensuring that The Sixth Sense got financing and a wide release. As Yogi Berra would say, "It's like deja vu all over again."

Other missed opportunities for Oscar glory. Here are two lesser seen Willis performances that have an enduring spot in my heart:

•  In Country. (1989). Emmet Smith. This movie was a box office dud when Bruce was a very hot property, so I never expected him to be rewarded with a nomination. Yet he's very moving in his most passive performance as a Vietnam veteran, now content to waste his days drinking beer on the porch and eating in front of the TV.  In his way, he's very devoted to his niece, Sam, whose father was killed "in country"  before she was born. He helps Sam learn about the father she never knew, and in the process teaches us all a little about the boys we as a nation sent overseas in the 1960s and 1970s.

• Moonrise Kingdom (2012). Captain Sharp is an ironically named law enforcement officer who only shares one thing with the quick-witted NY cop in Die Hard, and that is Bruce Willis. Blond, balding and frankly fifty, Captain Sharp is always the last to know anything that goes on in the small and quirky New England town writer/director Wes Anderson created. Sharp may not know much, but he realizes how dim he is, and that self-awareness enables him to be more sensitive to the (very) young runaway lovers he apprehends.

*Yes, Grant was given an honorary Oscar in 1970. I predict the same thing will happen to Bruce. About 15 awards seasons from now, when he's 75, he'll step out onstage in a tux and and give us one his perfect little smirks as he accepts a statuette representing his Lifetime Achievement in film.





Read more about the Academy Awards through the 31 Days of Oscar Blogathon! Here are the topics:

February 2-3 THE ACTORS!
February 9-10 OSCAR SNUBS!
February 16-17 THE CRAFTS! (Music, Costumes, Cinematography, Writing, etc.)
February 23-24 PICTURES AND DIRECTORS!

... And here are the hubs:

Once Upon a Screen 
Outspoken and Freckled
Paula's Cinema Club

I encourage you to check them out.

Fire up the DVR for 31 Days of Oscar on TCM. Here is the schedule. 

Sunday Stealing

To play along, click here:

Average hours of sleep: About seven, though they're seldom consecutive

Last thing I googled: "Medically induced coma." I heard the news story about Bobbi Kristina Brown and wondered why a doctor would do this. Learned how it protects the brain during neurosurgery, which was interesting, but I don't think that pertains to Whitney's daughter.

One place that makes me happy: Wrigley Field. It's snowing right now, so it's important to remember that it's just 64 days until someone throws out the first pitch. I say "someone" because, unfortunately, it won't be Mr. Cub, Ernie Banks. This is the end of a most wonderful era.

How many blankets I sleep under: Usually none. It gets very warm in my condo, all year around, so a sheet usually does the trick. I have an afghan at the foot of my bed in case in gets cold, and a blanket in my armoire, just in case it gets truly frigid.

What are you wearing right now: An oversized Titanic tshirt. It amuses me that I'm wearing a shirt that says, "Permission Granted to Come Aboard." If only someone would ask!

Last book you read: Man on the Run: Paul McCartney in the 1970s.

Favorite fictional character: I remain Ponderosa obsessed and keep waiting for Adam Cartwright to come and rescue me. (Damn you, MeTV and TVLand!)

Last movie I watched in the cinema: The Imitation Game. It was excellent. I'd still like to see The Wild, Still Alice, and lots of other Oscar-nominated films and performances, but they haven't made their way to my local theater yet. Depending on the snow, I may go see Whiplash with JK Simmons this afternoon. (Love him. He was the shrink, Dr. Scoda, on Law & Order and  the dad in the movie Juno. I hear he was on SNL last night, but I missed it.)

Dream vacation: I'd loooooove to visit Boston again and stay at the luxurious Mandarin Oriental. I'd get spa treatments and wander one of my favorite cities and visit the soon-to-be-reopened updated exhibits at the JFK Library.

Dream wedding: Just call me "Lady McCartney."

Dream pet: I'll be literal about this and say Charlotte, in that last night I actually had a dream where my late, much-missed girlcat was still here.

Dream job: Hopefully the one I have will be my dream job very soon. We're hiring new staff and I'm very enthusiastic that they will make things better at the office.

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? I'm not sure I understand the question. So I'll say I was the happiest and healthiest when I was 35.

Which is worse, failing or never trying? Never trying. I am guilty of this, by the way.

If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do? Filthy lucre.