*Ach, even as I try to reconstruct this period, it slips further away. But to continue: There was considerable contra dancing, with two visits to the Cambridge VFW, plus a New Year's Eve extravaganza at the Concord Scout House, attended by OD and me (YD does not indulge in such pursuits -- yet). The latter event was preceded by a potluck held at the home of another contra/morris dance family, and at its height there were upwards of a dozen teenagers in the living room, while adults and younger kids hid away in the kitchen and dining room. The last afternoon of evening of 2002 passed quickly in conversation and laughter, and then we all continued our reveling in Concord, and OD and I returned home at 1:45 a.m. to unconscious LW and Sims-playing YD.
Having revived my contra dancing life, I've decided that eye contact and solid, but not bone-crunching, hand grips in alemans are two of the most enjoyable things ever.
*What else? A one-day return to my place of employment, down to the skeleton level, workforce-wise, and we three quietly watched the latest storm assert itself over New England. And finally, a visit out west on Route 2 to Me Mum, hunkered down on top of her mountain with young porcupines prowling around the grounds for nourishment. We ate some tomato and pepper soup, crackers and bread, drank tea, and contemplated the rebirth of winter.
The Twelve Days, Give or Take
*Christmas-New Year's break started with a near-monsoon and temperatures more befitting, say, late March or even April. And it ended with several inches of snow on the ground and more coming, plus suitably frigid air.
*This year, the kids seemed to have experienced the definitive revelation that this time of year should perhaps be more than setting up decorations and tearing packages apart. They seemed to enjoy far more the satisfaction of choosing gifts for each other and for various friends and relatives. So, the goal for next fall is to channel this nascent beneficence into some family ornament-and-gift-making sessions. And, yeah, why not polish up some of those
carols, too?
*But Christmas Day was fine, actually pretty low-key: YD was awake fairly early, but couldn't get OD to follow suit until around 8 p.m., and it wasn't until about 30 minutes later that we trooped downstairs to the tree (its location this year the result of our having taken advantage of our temporarily reorganized space). A slow-moving but rather fierce snowstorm prevented our planned jaunt to a dinner party, which disappointed OD most of all, yet we were generally content to take our ease as the temperature dropped and the snow piled up.
*For LW and I, Christmas came a little later, and in unlikely ways: First, getting our main computer restored to full working order after several weeks. And second, finding a large dresser for $30 being sold by a genial young Indian grad student via an Internet classifieds site, which will accommodate not only garments but various financial records. Huzzah, organization! And thanks to our neighbors for the lending of not only their van but their strapping college student to help move the thing.
Not Forgetting
A bit of catching up on some artistic-type commentary:
*(Fairly) recent musical acquisitions:
==Varttina, "Oi Dai" -- A useful, and highly enjoyable, flashback to what might be called the adolescence of this renowned Finnish ensemble. Their sound at this stage adhered closer to the authentic-folk style with which they began -- the first track, "Marilaulu," could well have been recorded at a summer camp concert, with basic guitar, bass and accordian backing the vocals. But there are also hints of the innovative, modern arrangements that would become their trademark. And the voices are as strong as they ever would be, as heard on "Mie Oon Musta."
==Maddy Prior, "Ravenchild" -- More evidence that, great as she was with Steeleye Span, Maddy is a solid performer in her own right. As on "Flesh and Blood," she is well-served by her backing musicians, especially Nick Holland's keyboards and Troy Donockley's various instruments. Her renditions of traditional songs like "Twankydillo," "The Silkie of Sules Skerry" and a reworking of "The Bold Poachers" version done by Steeleye are superb, but it is her songwriting that proves her strong suit, especially in the album's centerpiece, "In the Company of Ravens," a medley of songs that celebrate the mythical and actual qualities of the much-misunderstood bird.
==They Might Be Giants, "No!" -- John and John, for the most part, achieve that elusive balance of concocting material that appeals to kids, especially those with a pronounced love of the absurd, but is equally fun for adults. Their ominous, purposefully bombastic ode to the Thomas Edison Museum is a riot, but my favorite is "The House on the Top of the Tree," a bizarre and increasingly ridiculous take on the cumulative singalongs like "The Bog Down in the Valley."
==Cuig, "Prospect" -- A talented, relatively new quintet that evokes the Irish music tradition found in England's northeast. The Anglo-Irish dynamic is particularly in evidence in "The Peacock," which begins with the classic "I'm the Boy for Bewitching Them" and segues into a Balkanized version of that splendid Northumbrian pipe tune "The Peacock," ending with a plain old 6/8er composed by the group's founder and fretted-string wiz Martin Matthews (who contributes a nifty South African beat-style guitar backing to introduce the title track.)
*Book completed: "The Faloorie Man," by Eugene McEldowney -- Journalist McEldowney's novel of Martin McBride, a Catholic boy growing up in post-World War II Belfast, based on some true-life experiences of his wife, Maura. There are by-now familiar, perhaps over-used, trademarks of 20th-century Irish biographies, namely the impractical, soft-souled Da and the self-sacrificing Ma, as well as the protagonist's tug-of-war between his adolescent sexual urges and his faith. But McEldowney lends the right touch of poignancy in describing the changes in Martin's relationship with his parents, not only with age but his discovery of a family secret, and for me, anyway, the references to the Irish music revival are most satisfying. Yet McEldowney, for whatever reason, appears to give rather short shrift to an admittedly obvious plot thread: the advent of the Catholic-Protestant conflict.
*Viewings:
=="Insomnia" -- Investigator Stellen Skarsgard commits a horrible mistake while helping police in a northern Norway town solve a murder, and in trying to hide his error finds himself in a sort of mutual blackmail with his chief suspect. Perhaps the most important non-corporeal entity in the film is the Midnight Sun, which seems to filter into the very center of Skarsgard's weary, haunted demeanor, and his murky professional and personal morality as well.
=="The Shipping News" -- Kevin Spacey does a credible job of bringing to life Quoyle, the worn-down but resilient hero of the Annie Proulx novel, who flees with his young daughter to his ancestral home in Newfoundland after a series of family tragedies. Quoyle's subsequent career as newspaper reporter is given slightly less attention here than in the book, but the story isn't so much about small-town journalism as it is about Quoyle's education: about himself, his family, and what it means to be part of a community and share in its myths, lies and stories. The D&Q Code of Standards also extends high marks for showing a pretty woman playing melodeon.
Dec. 19
If you've ever been in or seen a mummer's play, you'll appreciate this:
(From The Telegraph)
A court has rejected a 60-year-old man's attempt to invoke the ancient right to trial by combat, rather than pay a �25 fine for a minor motoring offence.
Leon Humphreys remained adamant yesterday that his right to fight a champion nominated by the Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency (DVLA) was still valid under European human rights legislation. He said it would have been a "reasonable" way to settle the matter.
Magistrates sitting at Bury St Edmunds on Friday had disagreed and instead of accepting his offer to take on a clerk from Swansea with "samurai swords, Ghurka knives or heavy hammers", fined him �200 with �100 costs.
Humphreys, an unemployed mechanic, was taken to court after refusing to pay the original �25 fixed penalty for failing to notify the DVLA that his Suzuki motorcycle was off the road.
After entering a not guilty plea, he threw down his unconventional challenge. Humphreys, from Bury St Edmunds, said: "I was willing to fight a champion put up by the DVLA, but it would have been a fight to the death."
So, would there have been a Doctor standing nearby, ready to cure the pain within and the pain without (and, if 19 devils present in the man's heart, to cast 20 out)? And a sword team for the finale?
Dec. 18
*Best Latter-Day Miracle, Non-Weeping-Statue Division: "A 'No Parking' sign posted to keep the street in front of a South Alpine home clear of unwelcome vehicles has done just the opposite, with many local residents claiming to see the face of Jesus Christ in dark patterning on the sign." More.
*Best Intriguing Yet Torturous Correction in a Major Newspaper (New York Times): "An article on Nov. 10 about animal rights referred erroneously to an island in the Indian Ocean and to events th ere involving goats and endangered giant sea sparrows that could possibly lead to the killing of goats by environmental groups. Wrightson Island does not exist; both the island and the events are hypothetical figments from a book (also mentioned in the article), 'Beginning Again,' by David Ehrenfeld. No giant sea sparrow is known to be endangered by the eating habits of goats."
If I'm a giant sea sparrow, I'm feeling just a little more relieved today.
*Mid-December, and another college-wide staff holiday party, where we remark on the milestones our children have reached or are nearing. Ten years ago, it was the prospect of starting school. This year, it was driver's licenses and the impendi ng search for college.
*Viewing: "Following" -- Christopher Nolan's dress rehearsal for "Memento" has, as one might guess who's seen that film, a quirky premise that picks up a harder edge as it goes on. Would-be writer Jeremy Theobald likes to shadow people at random, just to see where they live and what they do. But one of his "targets," confident, articulate Alex Haw, turns the tables and lures him into a further step beyond voyeurism: breaking into apartments while the occupants are out and steal ing items less for financial value than to violate sense of privacy. When Theobald finds himself drawn to one of their victims, it complicates the partnership -- in ways that go beyond the obvious. Nolan's use of flash-forwards and double-backs in telling the story fracture our narrative expectations even more, but ultimately draws too much attention.
*Recent musical acquisitions:
==Rod Stradling, "Rhythms of the Wold" -- Unjustly overlooked (in the US, anyway) accordion player fulfills what I believe are the standards for an all-instrumental album: interesting, diverse selection of tunes and arrangements to suit. He does "Bonaparte's Retreat" with a Delta blues slide guitar accompaniment, a medley of familiar morris tunes that sounds more Cajun than Cotswold, and a catchy Kerry hornpipe that is infectious in its rhythm. There are also Italian waltzes and jigs, and the lovely Scots-Cape Breton "Sweetness of Mary."
==Andy Irvine, "Rude Awakening" -- With a few exceptions, the album is a nod t o heroes ("Raoul Wallenberg," "James Connolly"), Antarctic explorers ("Douglas Mawson" and the title cut), larger-than-life figures ("Michael Dwyer's Escape," "Viva Zapata!") and literary rogues -- in the form of an imaginative salute to Sinclair Lewis. A mong the non-biographical songs, "Never Tire of the Road" is definit ely sing-along material. Irvine brings detail and intelligence to his songwriting, and his interpretation of traditional music is, as always, equally commendable.
Dec. 14-15
*Saturday is along the lines of a hurry-up-and-wait day, as YD organizes her long-awaited sleepover-birthday-party, which is preceded by the obligatory clean-up and trips for groceries and videos. The festivities are relatively orderly, outside of some s pirited karaoke and apparent dancing. LW and I retire to chambers to watch movie [see below] while OD and schoolchum -- who is polite and respectful yet also engaging; that ideal yet all-too-rare teenage phenomenon -- sit quietly and discuss News of the Day.
*A lot of Sunday is spent in transit, schlepping OD to friend's house, doing some surreptitious holiday shopping and then, finally, heading off to the O'Hanlon's session, which this day is enlivened by the return of prodigal son Brian Hanlon and a visit by singer-songwriter Lorraine Jordan, who among other things did a nifty take on Martin Carthy's arrangement of "Lord Randall." I had the opportunity to offer "Pride of Glencoe."
*Al Gore guests on "Saturday Night Live," and the next day announces he's not a candidate for the presidency. Wonder if it was because Stuart Smalley helped him to at last acknowledge, and move past, his pain and disappointment from 2000. Does this mean that Al Franken and Lorne Michaels have indirectly affected the outcome of Campaign 2004?
*Viewing: "The Virgin Suicides" -- Not the easiest adaptation project: The two main protagonists in Jeffrey Eugenides' book are essentially composites -- the alluring, mysterious and doomed Lisbon sisters and the group of neighborhood boys which, at one time or another, serves the girls as supplicants, confidants, enablers and biographers. But Sofia Coppola does a pretty commendable job, although at times she loses her focus; inevitably, the plot thread involving the second-youngest Lisbon siste r, Lux (an excellent Kirsten Dunst), and her ill-fated romance seems t o weaken the overall story. Still, the closeness among the sisters is touching and believable, and James Wood and Kathleen Turner, wisely, do not play the sisters' over-protective pare nts as monsters.
Dec. 13
*Other musical meanderings:
== YD performed with the school chorus, b ad ankle and all, in their annual winter concert. Not the ordeal of love one might (might) imagine: The chorus teacher does quite well se lecting and arranging the material. What matters most, of course, is tha t YD enjoys the whole thing and is suff iciently emboldened to continue.
==In one installment of the current "Monty" story a rc, Our Man sits, acoustic guitar in hand, solemnly contemplating the rainy day outside the window. His friend urges him to come get a beer: "You'll feel better."
"No, it's OK," replies Monty. "I'm a singer-songwriter."
There's more, of course, but that exchange by itself is a winner.
==Recent musical acquisition: Tim Dennehy, "The Blue Green Door"--The subtitle to this, "Traditional and original songs of love, loss and longing, Vol. 3." A Gaelic companion to the above "Monty" entry, perhaps. At any rate, one of the more subdued, austere albums you're likely to hea r. A high literary quality to most all o f the songs (some are actually poems set to music), which are well-served by Dennehy's gentle and dignified vocals, steering clear of a descent to pathos. Ideal for rainy-day-after-a-hard-night listening.
De c. 12
A somewhat amusing in sight in to the Trent "Strom's the best president we never had" Lott controversy, as reported in the Boston Globe: The central complaint about Lott from his peers, according to one Republican Senate aide, is that he arrives at meetings unprepared, as he apparently did at the birthday party [for Strom Thurmond]. "It was insensitive and thoug htless," the aide said. "Everyone saw it and just said, 'Yep, that's Trent.'"
So, let's see, maybe Lott should have prepared for the event by saying to himself, "Must not speculate on hypothetical cour se of history. Must not speculate on hypothetical course of history." Meanw hile, I'm pleased to see that at le ast on e person in alt.history.what-if weighed in with "What if Strom Thurmond had won the presidency in 1948?" What indeed -- maybe he would'v e sicced J. Edgar Hoover on Branch Rickey and the Brooklyn Dodgers?
D ec. 10-11
*Mid-week musical matters:< br>
==Tuesday, I'm invited to take part in an end-of-semester ceilidh with the Boston College Irish Studies Program. After a hard day's slog, I trudge across the BC campus and into the building where the festivit ies are taking place -- and I hear ech oing through the halls the distant sound of a fiddle playing a gorgeous air, with a gentle, spare piano accompaniment. The effect is, as you might imagine, something along the lines of inspirational.
==A fun time at the ceilidh: some very promising f idd le and tin whistle players as well as dancers (and a dance instructor to boot) on display. Perhaps even more intriguing was watching Jimmy Hogan, an elderly Irish whistle player, belt out a couple of reels at a fairly good clip while tapping out with h is foot what sounded like eighth-note intervals -- almost bodhran-like.
==Minding the store as emergency parental presence at Banbury Cross practice, I sat in an adjacent kitchen with a copy of O'Neill's and proceeded to learn a tune for which I'd previously only played rhythm guitar, and another I don't recall ever hearing at all. I'm not exactly accomplished at reading music, so forgive me if I wax a little enthusiastic here.
Dec. 6-9
*W e hurdle on, seemingly faster and faster, to the end of 2002. Saturday, with a bat-mitzvah to attend, YD is obliged to put on about the closest thing to formal wear she'd had on in nearly three years, the effect of which is breath-taking (said the ever-mo dest father). That day, though, she and I also collect snow-tube and plastic sledge for a bit of frolic at the nearby sledding hill, all reshaped as a result of a nearby construction project.
*OD an d I go to a potluck birthday dinner for a fellow parent, and from thence to a local contra dance. A very enjoyable time, with a gr eat band and caller, but it is there I learn that a fourth long-time couple we k now has called it quits this year. Not comfort ing.
*At last, some progress on the tenancy front, which comes as a great relief across the board. In celebration, as it were, I sit in at the O'Hanlon's session, which is decidedly low-key -- a ca sualty, most likely, of holiday festivities elsewhere.
Dec. 5
*Most touching, lyrical police log entry EVER:
A woman in a suburb near Boston calls police late one night to report a man in her backyard, who allegedly leaves a $1 bill in side a letter at her door before driving away. Stopped by police the man claimed to be "looking for his girlfriend," according to the log, and that he "followed signs from the stars that led him to that yard, then he kneeled and prayed at a pumpkin near t he front door." He was charged with DUI and taken for psychiatric evaluation.
*Our two interns, both born during the first Reagan Administration, have been waging a War of 1980s-Themed Wallpaper on the of fice computer: One posts a group shot of Journe y, the next day the other retaliates with the cast of Zoobilee Zoo, which results in a Cabbage Patch Doll counterattack, and so on. Not sure if Clara Peller or Kirk Cameron have been deployed yet.
Urp
*The familiar Thanksgiving Weekend pattern ho lds true: steady, occasionally feverish preparation of food and furnishings the night before and morning of, followed by tryptophan-induced sloth (OK, the wine helped, too) and, eventually, bits of activ ity. Me Mum came by for our early-afternoon feast, l eaving her already snowy mountain-top in Western Mass.
*On Saturday, I took friends and fellow parents J and L to the BC-Rutgers game at an unsurprisingly half-full Alumni Stadium. Not a ma tch that would've made Walter Camp proud: BC at first seemed to play as if convinced that allowing Rutgers to run around almost at will would eventually tire them out, an d darned if that wasn't the case in the third quarter, when the New Jerseyites demons trated all the characteristics of a 1-11 team by givi ng up 24 answered points. In between the blocks, tackles, passes and runs, we talked about general parental matters, of course, and occasionally conversed with the caustic-but-not-obno xious maroon-and-gold attired commentator/comedi an sit ting behind us.
*Sunday, OD and I went to her morris-and-sword team's holiday potluck, where we saw video fo otage of the festival in England this ensemble hopes to attend year after next (and I'm already contemplating signing on as a roadie). T here followed some brief English and contra dancing, and the spectacle of oh-so-mature, almost college-bound teenagers flinging themselves all over the place with gleeful abandon.
*The daughters and I also took the opportunity to watch "Rocky Horror P icture Show" and "The Music Man," both of which we've seen before but, for various reasons, felt inclined to view aga in. YD and I had rather a nice time contributing dialogue and song-snatches to the latt er. And, in one last bout of slothfulness, we actua lly wat ched "The Brady Bunch in the White House," the latest, and rather weak, installment in the series of ironic ally drenched Brady spoofs -- this one notable, from one man's viewpoint, for a scene in which Mr. Brady lugs various gew-gaws through the l iving ro om, including what very much appears to be a hobby horse.
*Book completed: "Flutie," by Dia ne Glancy -- No, not him. This novel is about a young Native-American woman living in Western Oklahoma, w ho experiences a rich, sometimes overwhelming, inner spiritual life, one she does not art iculate through speaking because, apparently, she almo st literal ly cannot. In this near wordless state, Flutie drifts through various personal and family experienc es, and the economic and emotional poverty of the lives around her. Not as depressing as i t might sound, but personally, I found the clipped, lac onic narrat ive to be somewhat off-putting.
Nov. 26
*In the Monty-Python-Couldn't-Do-Much-Bett er Department, there's this. Since the link may not be very long-la sting, the u pshot is that revised British licensing laws essentially forbid dancing and singing in pubs u nless the proper permissions have been granted. There are any number of reasons to be outrag ed, or even greatly irritated, about this state of affair s, but the at tempts of mid-level civic officials to decide whether "swaying" is considered a form of da ncing are, well, at least a little comic relief.
*Recent musical acquisitions:
==Aust in Lounge Lizards, "Small Minds" and "Employee of the Mont h" -- Very cle ver, sardonic parody of contemporary country-and-western (emphasis on the latter), with intelligence and a genuine affection for the genre's form and content. Definitely left-of-cen ter ideological-wise (as evidenced by the "tribute" to Newt Gingrich), but their forte is clearly and obviously in the likes of "The Dogs They Really Miss You" ("They've seen Old Yeller 40 times, they bathe less than they should"), "Love In a Refrigerator Box," "Old Blevins" (for anyone who's been waylaid in a ba r by someone wi th too many stories to tell) and -- what could be their anthem -- "Another Stupid Song About Texas" ("Biggest egos, biggest hair, biggest liars anywhere, Let's sing another stupid Texas song").
==Kornog, "Korong" -- A change in guitari sts -- Nicolas Quemener for Gilles Le Bigot, who in turn had succeeded the brilliant Soig Siberil -- has by no means degraded the return of this wonderful exponent of Breton-Scots music. Fiddler Christian Lemaitre and flautist Jean-Michel Veillon, as befo re, provide the group's signature, stately sound, and Jamie McMenemy and Quemener lay down an equally lovely rhythm, as evidenced on the likes of "Dans Plinn" and "Laride-Gavotte." McMenemy's v ocals still do him credit, although nowadays he seems somewhat more comfortabl e on the slower songs, notably his rendition of Peggy Seeger's "For a New Baby" and "The Braes of Killiecrankie."
==3 Mustaphas 3, "Play Musty for Me" -- This compilation o f live tracks show why these guys built up such a cult followi ng. The musicians hip and diversity of material is certainly in evidence, but it is also matche d by their stage presence. Case in point is the bluesy "introduce-the-band" track, with some howl ingly absurd histrionics ("When this man opens his mouth, Elvis Presley stops eat ing peanut butter -- forever!"), leading up to a very tender "Congolese/Afg han world hit." Then there's their tribute to legendary folklorist Joseph Spence, and a version of "Speed the Plough" sent through, I don't know, the Caucasuses perhaps?
Nov. 18-24
*Whoops, another weekend gone already? Another week, for tha t matter? Well, yeah, deadlines, deadlines and all that.
*One event of note comes late in the week when OD begins complaining of abdominal discomfort unrela ted to nausea or any thing similar. To be on the safe side, we head off to local HMO, and on t he way there I can't help but think about seemingly benign complaints that end up as dire diagnose s. What we would do? How would we handle it? Fortunately, no su ch scenario takes pla ce. In the meantime, OD and I actually manage to enjoy our company.
*Saturday is, to put it mildly, a rather desultory affair: crappy weather, crappy moods among mos t all household members, low energy levels...you get the picture.
*Sunday would absolutely have to be better by comparison, and for the most part is -- even managed to get in a bit of yard work. I wind up having to stay at OD's morris and rapper practice, but there are other parents to speak with, and watching our youngsters' progress (and endless goodbyes) is a more than fulfilling way to spend the tim e. Having dropped her back home, I proceed on to the O'Leary's Pub session.
Nov. 16-17
*Thoroughly soaked week end, with just a hint of ice and snow, which means most of it is spent indoors. Except for schlepping kids to sleepovers, that is, bringing about an evening at home I rather would've like to have been somewhat more eventful but, for reasons both fairly un derstandable and best left unsaid, was not.
*My, these weekends seem to get awfully s hort. Before I know it, I've dropped OD at her morris-and-rapper-sword practice and am on the way to the O'Hanlon's session, whose guest musician du jour is guitarist Flynn Cohen (which means I've now met and played with half t he members of Halali). Much to my additional delight, born raconteur Jerry Bell also drops in, and prods me into doing an a cappella renditi on of "Poverty Knock."
*On the way home, I stop off to pick up OD, comp leting her birthday observance at a special Sunday night mostly-square dance. When I arrive, she is da ncing with her morris/sword cohorts, all roughly 14-18 years old, cutting up and having s uch a wonderful time -- with no small amount of energy -- that you couldn't help but smile. I certainly did.
Nov. 15
OD's turn in the birthday celebration spotlight, and per her wishes we and a school chum drop in -- a fter being delayed becau se of an ominous-sounding, but apparently non-consequential, chemical spill on Route 128 -- on the Roaring Jelly dance in Lexington. A relatively small, far lower-key affair than o ther area dances, which i s actually a very desirable commodity. Numerous old friend s/fellow parents and acquaintances there, making for even more pleasure. And speaking of pleasure, OD a nd I certainly had ours in the last contra of the evening, showing o ff and being very silly, e specially during the four-in-a-line sequences.
N ov. 14
*Red Herring Morris formally begins its t radition-transition, with a tutorial in Sherbourne(not that these notes necessarily correspond with what we'll actually be doing, but...) given by the estimabl e Tim Radford, who jovially and enthusiastically threw us into the metaphorical deep end but somehow taught us three dances in the span of two hours. This wil l definitely take some getting used to, and so I'll likely be doing th e step-hop-change-change seq uence surreptitiously for at least the next few weeks.
*Book completed: "Rainy Lake," by Mary Francois Rockcastle -- Thoughtful, laconic fictional memo ir of a girl's coming-of-age over several summers during the 1960s at h er family's New Jersey lake h ouse. The house, badly in need of restoration and constantly visited by bats, is a metaphor, of course, for the challenged ambitions and ideals of its inhabitants and their neighbors and friends. The narrator, Danny, often se ems almost clinical as she chr onicles the growing rift between her haunte d, driven father and her determinedly domestic mother (Danny refers to them by their first names throughout most of the book), as well as the sociopolitical radicalization of her ol der brother. As the book's time-line progresses, there are, inevitably, c lashes about inter-racial dating, civil rights, Vietnam and the slow but steady disillusionment with the Goo d Life most of the adults assumed they would enjoy. At times, it resembles a well-written "Wonder Years" episode, which is by no means a bad thing.
Nov. 10
*Having brief custody of a visitor's 4-year-old, I took my charge out to the nearby co mmunity playground for which LW and I served as volunteers in fundraising and construction. It soon occur red to me that years had passed since I had last climbed on the various ladders, slides and structures. Who knows, the next time I clamber over and around it might be with grandchild in tow, but I prefer not to think about that right now, thanks.
*Whe n the warm, soupy Sunday evening arriv ed, I took myself out to the O'Leary's Pub session, which is delayed somewhat as we would-be musicians watched an exciting and highly unlikely last-minute Patriots victory on t he Big Screen. The room's humidity di dn't exactly enhance my bodhran-playing, so I stuck to bouzouki for the most part. A few duff spots, but overall a night well-spent.
Nov. 9
We are now officially awash in teenagers, YD hitting the big One-T hree and all. But we love her, yes w e do, and to prove our affection LW and I made a card for her adorned with
this photo, which she found suitably alarming.
Later, we treat her t o Chinese take-out and a video LW a nd I wisely eschew in favor of our own viewing of "Panic Room." Jodie Foster, she of the metal-piercing blue e yes and arresting cheekbones, is believable and compelling as a newly-divo rced mother confronting the invasion of her excessively large brownst one by three intruders, all with varying degrees of motivation and malevolence (including Forrest Whitaker, who se versatility is quite underrated). But Foster is strengthened by the presence of Kirsten Stewart as her equal ly resilient and resourceful pr e-teen daughter. Unfortunately, director David Finch's penchant for taking us on intricate journeys through vent s, cables and doorlocks proves to be over-done device. Still, the premise -- that the houses we inhabit have the ir own stories (literally) and souls we cannot always fathom -- is a thoughtful one.
Nov. 7
*Urban legend in the making? Morris dance colleague and fellow parent Lee reports that, according to A Friend, t he replica of the Nimbus 2000 magic br oom (from the Harry Potter Empire of Merchandise) is apparently proving quite popular with teenage girls. Why?
Because it vibrates.
And it's relatively cheaper, and far easier to obtain than, uh, you know...< br>
(For the sticklers among you, the a lleged vector for this wa s the Amazon.com customer reviews, but I must confess I haven't come across any that suggest this interesting bra nd of niche marketing.)
*So, Election 2k2 is done, and so -- as many pund its and disgruntled persons would have us believe -- are the De mocrats. But while Bush et al certainly have the edge in numbers, it's worth noting that it is, in fact, just that: an edge. Also, while voter turn-out was up 2 percent from that of the 1998 m id-term elections, the lowest figure in more than 40 years, it's hard for me to label Decision 2k2 a mandate for much of anything, given that three of every five eligible voter s stayed home.
*Viewing: "Pollock" -- Ed Harris' tribute, considerable wart s and all, to Jackson Pollock. Some fami liarity with Polloc k's life and career is probably helpful in watching this film, but it's not only an effective portrait of bitter se lf-destructiveness (Pollock's), it's a depiction of a curious, poignant devotion -- his wife, Lee Krasner, who put her ow n artistic career, and pretty much everything else, to the side to keep him going.
Nov. 2-3
*Tenancy matters pretty much override the weekend, which includes a Saturday afternoon mall-and-movie trip. The first part of the venture features a s top at a music and clothing store aimed at the punk/heavy-metal crowd (e.g., a considerable amount of attire with black as the domin ant color, or with a surfeit of snaps and buckles, and various merchandise touti ng the likes of System of a Down, Korn, Goo d Charlotte, et al). Somewhere, I wonder, is Vivien Westwood laughing, or crying?
*Viewings:
=="Tuck Everlasting"--Somewhat of a calculated risk, raising the heroine's age of this middle school/junior hi gh English class perennial, and thereby brin ging a more blatantly romantic dimension to the story of immortality and its burdens. But Alexis Bledell, with her marble-sized baby blues, is a convincing teenage Winnie Foster, whose rebellion against her starched, upper-class, fenced-in life takes an u rgent, and more meaningful turn when she meets the Tucks, who haven't aged a day in nearly a century since imbibing from a myst erious spring. The Tucks (who for all we know could've gone on to help create The Whole Earth Catalog) not only offer Winnie bot h famili al and romantic love, they help shape her appreciation of life's possibilities, and risks. Sissy Spacek is a natural a s earth-mother May Tuck, while William Hurt, as the family patron, seems to spend about half the movie working out what his accen t is s upposed to be. In the end, it's a pleasant, not-too-saccharine adaptation.
=="The Others"--A ghost story that actua lly relies more on atmosphere and slow-building suspense than on pyrotechnics and blood buckets. At the center is Nicole Kidman, s trug gling to understand what forces are (apparently) out to get her and her two young children, in their isolated Channel Is land mansion. As the evidence builds, Kidman's maternal protectiveness begins to c reate more unease, and the final revelation, alth ough not as stirring a climax as one might expect in the genre, is a palpable mix of regret and resignation.
