This post was written for a Facebook group doing a look back at s8:
“Last Christmas”
Written by Steven Moffat
Directed by Paul Wilmshurst
A review by Rob Brayer
----------------------
As the credits began to roll on “Death in Heaven”, a strange mixture of satisfaction and melancholy came over me. The ending was much like the series preceding it: strange, tortured, and beautiful. Both the Doctor and Clara find themselves lying to each other in hopes that these lies will lead their counterpart to live happily without the other. The Doctor hasn’t found Gallifrey. Danny Pink is still dead. But at least, each thinks, a lie will lead the other to go on with their life.
And then there is collapse. The credits collapse. The narrative collapses. A loud knock forces its way through both the credits and the Doctor’s weary rest. It can’t end like this. Santa Claus won’t allow it! He’s been meaning to check in on the Doctor for a while. Christmas means happy endings, so it is Christmas that will save the Doctor.
From a character perspective, “Last Christmas” is really the third part of the finale, though it stands on its own as the finest Christmas special since “A Christmas Carol” and possibly of the new series. The special is a tour de force. It unabashedly combines the puzzle box structure Moffat loves with the genre collision he has so uniquely perfected, going so far as to actually name its own influences. Equally though, as with the best Moffat scripts, these elements are window dressing for the real emphasis of the story: its emotional core.
Because although the story is ostensibly about dreaming, it is, at a thematic level, about the need to escape delusion and accept reality. Early in the episode, the Doctor and Clara find themselves in a literal base under siege at the North Pole under attack from a classic Moffat monster: a telepathic creature attracted only to mental images of itself. The only way to escape seems to be to shut out all such thoughts. With Clara struggling, the Doctor tries to force her attention onto the suggested image of Danny Pink cheating on her. The Doctor, of course, believes Danny to be alive, and does not realize how gut-wrenching his words really are. Instead of saving Clara, he enrages her. They come clean to each other. No Danny, no Gallifrey. The truth is revealed.
Later, Clara awakes in a dream on Christmas morning to find Danny at her bed urging her downstairs to celebrate the holiday. Everything about the domestic scene is perfect. It is Christmas. They are together. They are happy. But when Clara steps outside of her room she faces a chalkboard warning her that she is dying. Clara tries to ignore this message. Every time she erases the warning it comes back immediately. More chalkboards spring up, but Clara is not moved. She has Danny back and that is all that matters. Only when the Doctor puts his own life at risk and steps into the dream does he persuade her to accept reality. Even then, it takes imaginary-Danny’s confession that he is not real to move Clara to action. Danny’s final message to Clara is the perfect thesis for this episode:
The reason loved ones gather at Christmas is to appreciate what they have in the moment, to live in the present, because the future is uncertain, and any Christmas could be the last that people spend together. Thus, Clara receives a rare and priceless Christmas gift: a final Christmas with Danny. She gets closure. Most important, though, is Danny’s exhortation that Clara must move on, live in the present, and literally let go of Danny in order to live her life. She does. She lives. She moves forward (the only real form of time travel, even in dreams).
Escaping delusion drives not only the themes of the story but also the action, as the characters are caught in a series of dreams within dreams that threaten their lives. What ultimately saves all but one poor soul is the will to pierce their shared delusion and return to their normal lives.
This is not to say that the story condemns fantasy. In fact, it embraces it, giving the dreamers a unique guardian angel: Santa Claus himself. Santa plays a key part in assisting the dreamers in discovering the nature of their predicament. His inexplicable rescue of the dreamers early in the story ultimately triggers the Doctor’s realization that the occupants of the base are trapped in a dream. Similarly, Clara’s observation that Santa had appeared to the Doctor and Clara before they arrived at the base prompts the Doctor to realize that the dreamers remain stuck in yet another dream.
But this is not the only role that Santa plays. Instead, he takes on the role of the Doctor, saving the day. Even the Doctor must turn to Santa twice in the end. First, when ghostly versions of all the dreamers converge on them, and yet again when the Doctor’s relationship with Clara seems to be at a close.
Perhaps this is not as surprising as it might seem. As two of our greatest stories, Santa and the Doctor have much in common. Santa and the Doctor both seem to move effortlessly in and out of the story world as needed, but always save the day in the end. And, when broken down, the core characteristics of Santa and the Doctor are equally, mystically absurd. Santa captains a sleigh propelled by flying reindeer to deliver presents to millions of children in a single night. The Doctor is a traveler in a small blue box which is bigger on the inside that regularly changes his face and interlopes through time and space and lives and genres. Both figures pervade our fondest dreams; it is no accident that Clara explicitly equates them.
Thus, the underlying message of “Last Christmas” is not only that we must face reality, but that we need not do so alone. We are armed with our dreams, our myths, our symbols, and our stories. And, while they are not physically real, their meaning is imbued with the power to summon our higher selves and to defeat our deadliest monsters.
But the story is not yet complete. First, we get a lovely “farewell” scene between the Doctor and Clara. The Doctor races to Clara only to find that he is 60 years too late. Clara’s whole life has gone by in the space of a few seconds. The Doctor has, as he did with Amy, come far later than he had planned. The scene is an elegant echo of Clara’s final scenes with 11. Like 11, Clara is aged but at peace. It is now Clara that lacks the strength to open a Christmas cracker. It is now the Doctor that returns the favor and opens the cracker. And, like 11, just when it appears the story is over, Clara “regenerates” back into herself, as she and the Doctor awake from the final layer of their shared dream and, renewed, charge forward into the future. Where will they go?
It’s a long story.
Random thoughts that don’t fit anywhere else
• Nick Frost was born to play this part. He absolutely kills it, more than justifying his opening credit status. By my count, he’s the 3rd “Spaced” alum to grace Who.
• Shona was awesome. Her dance scene was delightful. I still hold out hope she might become a companion one day.
• Shona’s itinerary clearly helps to shape the dream, including Miracle on 34th Street, Alien, and The Thing from Another World. It’s too bad she didn’t get around to that Thrones Marathon.
• Even though he ate it, it’s great that Michael Troughton finally got to appear on the program.
• It’s also nice to see Dan Starkey out of costume. Also, comedy elves.
• The Doctor thinks age-appropriate women are sexy. Great detail.
• Santa‘s sled is bigger on the inside, because of course it is.
• The elation on Capaldi’s face when he flies the sleigh is contagious. What a pleasure to finally see 12 beam so joyously.
• The very end of the story was a last-minute rewrite resulting from Jenna Coleman’s 11th-hour decision to stay on the show. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it would have been a great ending for Clara. On the other, I really like the parallel it draws to 11’s regeneration.
• The very end of the story also raises some tough questions. Clara and the Doctor awoke a dream level further than the rest. Does this mean that all of the other dreamers weren’t real?
• Relatedly, that the Doctor wakes up in what appears to be the set from Clara’s volcano tantrum further confuses things, particularly as the volcano was, itself, a dream. What was he doing there? Is there another level to all of this? Is the entire 3-part finale a dream? I’m guessing the production team was just saving money on a set, but as this is Moffat, you can never rule out the possibility that this apparent loose end may become important at a later date.
So many quotes
• “Oh, sorry about this … girl? We, we are just three passing … perfectly ordinary … roof people, doing some emergency roof things.” – Santa
• Ian: Your mum and dad, one day a year, for no particular reason, just out of the blue, suddenly decide to give you a great, big pile of presents.
Wolf: No, no, no. Because they love you so much! It’s a lovely story, dear.
Ian: Yeah, but it’s time to start living in the real world, yeah?
• The Doctor: Happy Easter.
Wolf: Ooh, brutal!
Ian: Cool exit line, though.
• Ian: Shut your mouth, wise guy, or you get yours!
Wolf: It’s a balloon animal.
Ian: That’s a toy gun.
Wolf: Yeah, well, at least it’s unsuitable for children under four! Parts small enough to swallow, so watch out.
• Santa: I got three words, Shona. Don’t make me use ‘em.
Shona: What three words?
Santa: My. Little. Pony.
Shona: Shut up, you!
Santa: Yeah? I’ve got lots more, babe.
Shona: I will mark you, Santa!
• Shona: The North Pole isn’t an actual pole.
Ian: Of course it is. Look.
Shona: If it was an actual pole, it would not be stripy.
Wolf: It’s got to be stripy!
Ian: Otherwise, you couldn’t see it moving around.
Wolf: It’s actually basic physics.
• The Doctor: You know what the big problem is in telling fantasy and reality apart?
Ashley: What?
The Doctor: They're both ridiculous.
• “There's a horror movie named Alien? That's really offensive. No wonder everybody keeps invading you.” – The Doctor
• “I didn’t die saving the world, Doctor, I died saving Clara. The rest of you just got lucky.” – Danny
• Shona: You’re a dream who’s trying to save us?
Santa: Shona, sweetheart, I’m Santa Claus. I think you just defined me!
• “All right. As the Doctor might say, ‘Aw, it’s all a bit dreamy-weamy!’” – Santa
• “No need for chatting, you’ll only get attached. This isn’t Facebook.” – The Doctor
• The Doctor: No one ever matched up to Danny, eh?
Clara: There was one other man, but that would never have worked out.
The Doctor: Why not?
Clara: He was impossible.
• Clara: Well, look at you, all happy. That’s rare.
The Doctor: Do you know what’s rarer? Second chances. I never get a second chance, so what happened this time? Don’t even know who to thank.
Overall, the story was even better on re-watch. With the details of the plot no longer as surprising, I was free to focus on the nuances of the story. This one really benefits from repeated viewing.
10/10. What do you guys think?
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Monday, May 26, 2014
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
"Ulysses," the poem by Lord Alfred Tennyson, has dramatically influenced my life since I first encountered it in high school. The tale of the epic hero made so familiar by both Homer and Dante is brought to vivid emotional life by Tennyson's examination of Ulysses' spirit of exploration, discovery, and unwavering will. Ulysses' unrelenting intellectual curiosity causes him to reject a settled life and constantly travel the world in search of new experiences, to "drink life to the lees . . . always roaming with a hungry heart" making Ulysses "a part of all that [he has] met." Most striking is Ulysses ardent desire to never stop learning more: "To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought."
Even as Ulysses and his crew enter their old age, they see perceive no boundary to their quest for discovery. For they represent "that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven . . . Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will." Tennyson ends with the indelible line that has floated into my mind countless times since I first read "Ulysses" so many years ago: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." This is a trenchant motto for life which I have always endeavored to live.
Everything that I have achieved is the direct result of my indomitable will, passion for achievement, drive to keep moving forward, and unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Ulysses taught me the meaning of a heroic life: striving, seeking, finding, and never yielding. The spirit of these words has been absorbed in all aspects of my life. Read (or re-read) this brilliant work below:
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy’d
Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when
Thro’ scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour’d of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro’ soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Even as Ulysses and his crew enter their old age, they see perceive no boundary to their quest for discovery. For they represent "that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven . . . Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will." Tennyson ends with the indelible line that has floated into my mind countless times since I first read "Ulysses" so many years ago: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." This is a trenchant motto for life which I have always endeavored to live.
Everything that I have achieved is the direct result of my indomitable will, passion for achievement, drive to keep moving forward, and unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Ulysses taught me the meaning of a heroic life: striving, seeking, finding, and never yielding. The spirit of these words has been absorbed in all aspects of my life. Read (or re-read) this brilliant work below:
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy’d
Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when
Thro’ scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour’d of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro’ soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Friday, April 11, 2014
I'm (not) Disabled!
One of my all time favorite shows is The "IT Crowd" and one of its best-ever episodes contains the following scene:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dDZzl9AyXeg
A few weeks back I was on a long cross-country flight. By the time I got off, I needed some "IPhone time" in the nearest bathroom quite badly. This particular airport bathroom was unusually small with only three stalls and a single urinal. Everything was in use except for the disabled stall. My need for relief was high, and having used the disabled stall in similar situations before, I simply went for it. I didn't think too much of it, though, admittedly Roy's "I'm disabled!" did pass through my mind for a moment. A few minutes went by and I was well on my way to alleviating my distress when, all of a sudden, wheelchair wheels rolled up under the stall door. There was a knock, and I then heard the following exchange:
A guy: I think someone's in there.
Wheelchair Guy: Yeah. I don't think he's disabled, though.
It took so much self-control not to yell out "I'm disabled...legs!" There was nothing I could do, I was at a point of no return on this adventure. I could only hope that he left and went to one of the 6,000 other bathrooms in this major international airport. Instead, he rolled his way into the non-disabled stall next to mine and attempted to use it with apparent great difficulty. Somewhat horrified, I finished, I washed my hands and got the hell out of there and didn't look back. Time to get the rental car.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dDZzl9AyXeg
A few weeks back I was on a long cross-country flight. By the time I got off, I needed some "IPhone time" in the nearest bathroom quite badly. This particular airport bathroom was unusually small with only three stalls and a single urinal. Everything was in use except for the disabled stall. My need for relief was high, and having used the disabled stall in similar situations before, I simply went for it. I didn't think too much of it, though, admittedly Roy's "I'm disabled!" did pass through my mind for a moment. A few minutes went by and I was well on my way to alleviating my distress when, all of a sudden, wheelchair wheels rolled up under the stall door. There was a knock, and I then heard the following exchange:
A guy: I think someone's in there.
Wheelchair Guy: Yeah. I don't think he's disabled, though.
It took so much self-control not to yell out "I'm disabled...legs!" There was nothing I could do, I was at a point of no return on this adventure. I could only hope that he left and went to one of the 6,000 other bathrooms in this major international airport. Instead, he rolled his way into the non-disabled stall next to mine and attempted to use it with apparent great difficulty. Somewhat horrified, I finished, I washed my hands and got the hell out of there and didn't look back. Time to get the rental car.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Comcast Customer Service is the Worst of any Corporation in the World
It's been a long time since I've written here. It took a special kind of horrible to get me motivated to do so. What follows is the true, horrific story of two hours of my Saturday that I will never get back which were required to get back money Comcast otherwise would have stolen from me. If you have a choice, I strongly suggest you use another company. They're all terrible, but Comcast takes terrible to a whole new level. They are "The Room" of corporations.
A few months back we decided to upgrade our DVR to the Comcast X1. The standard HD DVR that they give you is the worst DVR we've ever seen. The menu and interface look like something out of War Games (that's an 80s movies for you young-ins). Just horrendous. We couldn't deal with it anymore. When we got the X1 we were excited. It looked and operated much better and was actually usable. Our excitement lasted about three days. At that point, it stopped functioning in any rational way. It was impossible to set up timers for any series at all and individual timers barely worked either. There were a number of other issues that I won't get into; suffice it to say, we were unhappy. We called Comcast and they promised to send out a technician to fix the problem. They never mentioned at any point that this service would cost any money.
A few days later a very nice independent contractor tech came out. After a lot of work he concluded that our box was defective and replaced it with another one. The new one's mostly worked well since then and we're more or less happy with it. Then came out bill, a few days ago.
The bill included a $50 charge for the tech's service call. This was upsetting, as not only had no charge been suggested, but the justification for one would be extremely weak. It was Comcast's crap equipment that barely lasted three days, after all. We had paid for the first installation. Comcast appeared to be saying we needed to pay AGAIN, less than a week later, to replace THEIR faulty equipment.
And so I set out to run the awful "Call Comcast" "customer service" gauntlet. There's no way to talk to anyone faster than 20 minutes, but fortunately, their phone system (after deluging you with several ads for programming) offers a 'call-back.' Put in your number and they'll call you back when its your turn. No waiting. Sounds great. It's not completely true, of course. I got the call-back and then had to wait in line another 5 minutes. A little weird, but not the end of the world.
When I finally got to a person, the rep explained that there was no way that he could take the charge off. He first mentioned that I could sign up for their 'customer protection plan.' Pay a monthly fee and the fee if someone has to come out to fix Comcast's garbage equipment is free! What a DEAL! No thanks. (They had previously tried this scam on me when the cable modem they gave me wouldn't work with my work's VPN. They refused to even TRY to help me since I only have 'basic service' which amounts to - have you tried turning it on or off again? Anything more complicated costs $15 a month. Scam.)
He then offered to compensate me by giving me a free premium channel. Since I can't watch the channels I do have, this wasn't acceptable to me. I suggested that he take off the charge for HBO, a channel I already have. He said this would work and would save me $30. He then offered to give me free 'blast' service for 3 months, which would upgrade my internet from 2nd tier to 1st tier in speed. I don't really need this, but he said it'd save another $30. Not completely satisfied, but at least feeling I was getting my money's worth, I agreed. Come to find out that because of my existing promotion with HBO, the 'savings' would be off full price. Without getting too into it, I'd get approximately no benefit. At this point, I asked to be transferred to a supervisor. This is where the fun really began.
Once I got put on hold - again, I realized that this genius's 'upgrading' of my internet had completely knocked out my internet. I reset my modem 3 times to no avail. I had been working from home and had quite a bit to still do, so this was a big issue for me. So now I'm stuck on hold waiting to talk to billing with no internet - and guess what, 25 minutes go by. Really! I was 'transferred to a supervisor' and had to wait ANOTHER 25 minutes. This was too much, I couldn't afford to wait for Internet service. So I gave up, hung up, and called tech support. This experience wasn't terrible. The woman was able to get my Internet working again. I asked her to send me back to billing. She transferred me to the 'so you're moving' line. Not helpful.
So I got call-back service again, waited another 5 minutes to actually talk to a person after the call-back and then asked to be transferred to a supervisor. This time I asked if the 20 minute wait was avoidable, after all, why couldn't the supervisor call me back? The rep put me on hold for a few minutes to find out. She then came back with the most convoluted response I've ever heard. The easiest thing to do would have been to say 'no, we can't do that.' Instead, she launched into a two minute explanation that can be summed up as: they can only call you back if you are already talking to them and you have to go. Great. So I have to wait the 20-25 minutes to talk to them to get them to call me back. In other words, NO THEY CAN'T. Sigh.
About 35 minutes go by. Finally I get Hector, the supervisor on the line. By this point, I am fuming. I tell him that I appreciate that I finally got to him after my two-hour adventure. I then explain the situation and get some weak explanation about them crediting the account only if the tech guy had not been at the house for very long etc. This guy had been here awhile and done a lot of work. Great, I responded, I have no problem with the tech guy being paid, he did a good job. COMCAST should pay him to replace their garbage equipment, not me. That's the issue. At this point, Hector finally cracked a little bit. "I can give you $25 back. But that's the best I can do."
Not. Acceptable. I tore into him for five minutes about the horrible service and seeking an explanation for why I should pay *ANYTHING* for their poor equipment. Finally, he came back with..."I can give you $40 back. But that's it."
So now this guy is negotiating with me. After two hours of being on the phone waiting for a person who could do anything, dealing with an internet power outage caused by Comcast's idiocy, being transferred to the wrong department, and various other absurdities, the supervisor is trying to nickel and dime me - out of $10. "This'll satisfy him" he probably thought "and that $10 savings will make the bosses give me another look for that promotion!" Sorry, Hector, this is not your day. I did not go through two hours of utter bullshit to pay YOU $10 for YOUR garbage equipment. Are you going to compensate me for the two hours of my Saturday that I lost waiting to talk to a person? No? Then give me ALL my money back.
Hector finally relented, but gave me a half-ass lecture about how this was a one-time thing blah blah blah like he had done me some huge favor. I finished by telling him he needed to instruct his staff to TELL PEOPLE WHEN THEY WOULD BE CHARGED. Shocking advice that he said they would take as feedback. Somehow, I doubt that happened.
ALL this because:
1) The first HD-DVR they gave me was a pile of crap. Just the worst thing I've ever seen. Even Comcast's rep, when I ordered the X1 agreed with this assessment.
2) The X1 they sent originally WAS DEFECTIVE. So two straight horrible products from Comcast. Thanks guys.
3) Pass the charges onto the customer! Comcast gives you bad equipment, then charges you to fix bad equipment, then tries to get you to subscribe to a service plan for even more money to - wait for it - fix their garbage equipment.
If that isn't a scam, I don't know what is. Adam Smith would be using his invisible hand to smack these jerks in the face from the grave were he not as dead as Comcast's commitment to their customers.
Do yourself a favor - if you have a choice - go with DirecTV or Dish or ANYONE else. As soon as I move somewhere else where this choice is available, I will dump these idiots like they were a less charming less intelligent Paula Deen.
A few months back we decided to upgrade our DVR to the Comcast X1. The standard HD DVR that they give you is the worst DVR we've ever seen. The menu and interface look like something out of War Games (that's an 80s movies for you young-ins). Just horrendous. We couldn't deal with it anymore. When we got the X1 we were excited. It looked and operated much better and was actually usable. Our excitement lasted about three days. At that point, it stopped functioning in any rational way. It was impossible to set up timers for any series at all and individual timers barely worked either. There were a number of other issues that I won't get into; suffice it to say, we were unhappy. We called Comcast and they promised to send out a technician to fix the problem. They never mentioned at any point that this service would cost any money.
A few days later a very nice independent contractor tech came out. After a lot of work he concluded that our box was defective and replaced it with another one. The new one's mostly worked well since then and we're more or less happy with it. Then came out bill, a few days ago.
The bill included a $50 charge for the tech's service call. This was upsetting, as not only had no charge been suggested, but the justification for one would be extremely weak. It was Comcast's crap equipment that barely lasted three days, after all. We had paid for the first installation. Comcast appeared to be saying we needed to pay AGAIN, less than a week later, to replace THEIR faulty equipment.
And so I set out to run the awful "Call Comcast" "customer service" gauntlet. There's no way to talk to anyone faster than 20 minutes, but fortunately, their phone system (after deluging you with several ads for programming) offers a 'call-back.' Put in your number and they'll call you back when its your turn. No waiting. Sounds great. It's not completely true, of course. I got the call-back and then had to wait in line another 5 minutes. A little weird, but not the end of the world.
When I finally got to a person, the rep explained that there was no way that he could take the charge off. He first mentioned that I could sign up for their 'customer protection plan.' Pay a monthly fee and the fee if someone has to come out to fix Comcast's garbage equipment is free! What a DEAL! No thanks. (They had previously tried this scam on me when the cable modem they gave me wouldn't work with my work's VPN. They refused to even TRY to help me since I only have 'basic service' which amounts to - have you tried turning it on or off again? Anything more complicated costs $15 a month. Scam.)
He then offered to compensate me by giving me a free premium channel. Since I can't watch the channels I do have, this wasn't acceptable to me. I suggested that he take off the charge for HBO, a channel I already have. He said this would work and would save me $30. He then offered to give me free 'blast' service for 3 months, which would upgrade my internet from 2nd tier to 1st tier in speed. I don't really need this, but he said it'd save another $30. Not completely satisfied, but at least feeling I was getting my money's worth, I agreed. Come to find out that because of my existing promotion with HBO, the 'savings' would be off full price. Without getting too into it, I'd get approximately no benefit. At this point, I asked to be transferred to a supervisor. This is where the fun really began.
Once I got put on hold - again, I realized that this genius's 'upgrading' of my internet had completely knocked out my internet. I reset my modem 3 times to no avail. I had been working from home and had quite a bit to still do, so this was a big issue for me. So now I'm stuck on hold waiting to talk to billing with no internet - and guess what, 25 minutes go by. Really! I was 'transferred to a supervisor' and had to wait ANOTHER 25 minutes. This was too much, I couldn't afford to wait for Internet service. So I gave up, hung up, and called tech support. This experience wasn't terrible. The woman was able to get my Internet working again. I asked her to send me back to billing. She transferred me to the 'so you're moving' line. Not helpful.
So I got call-back service again, waited another 5 minutes to actually talk to a person after the call-back and then asked to be transferred to a supervisor. This time I asked if the 20 minute wait was avoidable, after all, why couldn't the supervisor call me back? The rep put me on hold for a few minutes to find out. She then came back with the most convoluted response I've ever heard. The easiest thing to do would have been to say 'no, we can't do that.' Instead, she launched into a two minute explanation that can be summed up as: they can only call you back if you are already talking to them and you have to go. Great. So I have to wait the 20-25 minutes to talk to them to get them to call me back. In other words, NO THEY CAN'T. Sigh.
About 35 minutes go by. Finally I get Hector, the supervisor on the line. By this point, I am fuming. I tell him that I appreciate that I finally got to him after my two-hour adventure. I then explain the situation and get some weak explanation about them crediting the account only if the tech guy had not been at the house for very long etc. This guy had been here awhile and done a lot of work. Great, I responded, I have no problem with the tech guy being paid, he did a good job. COMCAST should pay him to replace their garbage equipment, not me. That's the issue. At this point, Hector finally cracked a little bit. "I can give you $25 back. But that's the best I can do."
Not. Acceptable. I tore into him for five minutes about the horrible service and seeking an explanation for why I should pay *ANYTHING* for their poor equipment. Finally, he came back with..."I can give you $40 back. But that's it."
So now this guy is negotiating with me. After two hours of being on the phone waiting for a person who could do anything, dealing with an internet power outage caused by Comcast's idiocy, being transferred to the wrong department, and various other absurdities, the supervisor is trying to nickel and dime me - out of $10. "This'll satisfy him" he probably thought "and that $10 savings will make the bosses give me another look for that promotion!" Sorry, Hector, this is not your day. I did not go through two hours of utter bullshit to pay YOU $10 for YOUR garbage equipment. Are you going to compensate me for the two hours of my Saturday that I lost waiting to talk to a person? No? Then give me ALL my money back.
Hector finally relented, but gave me a half-ass lecture about how this was a one-time thing blah blah blah like he had done me some huge favor. I finished by telling him he needed to instruct his staff to TELL PEOPLE WHEN THEY WOULD BE CHARGED. Shocking advice that he said they would take as feedback. Somehow, I doubt that happened.
ALL this because:
1) The first HD-DVR they gave me was a pile of crap. Just the worst thing I've ever seen. Even Comcast's rep, when I ordered the X1 agreed with this assessment.
2) The X1 they sent originally WAS DEFECTIVE. So two straight horrible products from Comcast. Thanks guys.
3) Pass the charges onto the customer! Comcast gives you bad equipment, then charges you to fix bad equipment, then tries to get you to subscribe to a service plan for even more money to - wait for it - fix their garbage equipment.
If that isn't a scam, I don't know what is. Adam Smith would be using his invisible hand to smack these jerks in the face from the grave were he not as dead as Comcast's commitment to their customers.
Do yourself a favor - if you have a choice - go with DirecTV or Dish or ANYONE else. As soon as I move somewhere else where this choice is available, I will dump these idiots like they were a less charming less intelligent Paula Deen.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Molly and son and son and son and son and daughter and daughter
Many months ago I wrote about an adorably sweet cat that would sit on our porch constantly. We called her "Outside Kitty." At the time I wrote the blog, that's all we thought she would ever be. Circumstances have changed and she now has a name: Molly. As we eventually learned, Molly was in heat for some time period that she was visiting us. Eventually she got pregnant, which became more and more obvious as the days went by. Molly is such a small, petite girl, that her ballooning up suddenly was especially noticeable.
Once Molly had her kittens, we began to become concerned about her and them. How safe were they on the outside? Molly had found a nice nest for them underneath the house next to us. We would regularly see her going in and out of a hole in the bottom of the house and Janessa told me she'd heard high pitched kitten mewing going on in there at least once. Janessa was worried she'd have to go get the kittens to get them somewhere safe before too long. Molly beat us to it, though.
We were in Reno at Janessa's grandparents' 65th wedding anniversary family get-together, when Janessa's cell phone went off. She excused herself, and when she came back let me know that Molly had move the kittens to our porch! The next door neighbor saw the situation and put the kittens in a box so they'd be contained. That she trusted us enough to do this was touching. Logistically, it posed some problems, but we were able to solve them. Janessa had built a small enclosure on the porch for our cats that they were accessing through a cat door. That became kitten central and has been that way for about the last month. Molly was so happy to have the kittens safe and to have the burden off of her she started to let us pet her and even put her on our laps. She is an incredibly gentle and sweet cat and it boggles our minds that someone could ever abandon her.
When I say Molly had kittens, I mean she had kittens. 6 to be exact. Which, I'm not going to lie, has been wonderful to look at every day. When I am doing the dishes and look out the window and see three kittens on a scratcher sleeping smooshed together or two chasing each other around hopping like rabbits, it's impossible not to smile. When I walk outside to check on them and six kittens rush the gate all at once, well, it's every bit as cute as you'd think and then some.
We've had to wait until now to start really trying to get the kittens adopted out, because until recently they were still breastfeeding. As much as we would love to keep them all, 3 cats is already insane, 9 impossible. If they stayed at this age forever, it'd be a different story. Fortunately, one of them finally got a home. We figured the runt would go first, and she did. She has an incredibly squished face which is irresistible. She also has tons of spunk and moxie. It was sad to see her go. Two more followed in the next week. Three remain; we're hoping to get them all good homes pretty quickly. It's much more difficult than you might imagine. All the animal rescues are full and there are tons of people trying to adopt out kittens. Spay and neuter, people, spay and neuter.
We thought Molly might have a home too, but it fell through. At this point, it's seeming less and less likely by the day. It's hard enough to find homes for insanely cute kittens, what chance does a 1 year old - even a super sweet one - really have? We certainly hope something comes up, but at the end of the day, it's looking more and more likely that Molly will be our 4th - and FINAL - cat. She's much too gentle and sweet to have to live outdoors. She deserves a real home. And heck, she adopted us months ago. I didn't know it could work like that, but apparently it does, as we're quite taken with her.
Once Molly had her kittens, we began to become concerned about her and them. How safe were they on the outside? Molly had found a nice nest for them underneath the house next to us. We would regularly see her going in and out of a hole in the bottom of the house and Janessa told me she'd heard high pitched kitten mewing going on in there at least once. Janessa was worried she'd have to go get the kittens to get them somewhere safe before too long. Molly beat us to it, though.
We were in Reno at Janessa's grandparents' 65th wedding anniversary family get-together, when Janessa's cell phone went off. She excused herself, and when she came back let me know that Molly had move the kittens to our porch! The next door neighbor saw the situation and put the kittens in a box so they'd be contained. That she trusted us enough to do this was touching. Logistically, it posed some problems, but we were able to solve them. Janessa had built a small enclosure on the porch for our cats that they were accessing through a cat door. That became kitten central and has been that way for about the last month. Molly was so happy to have the kittens safe and to have the burden off of her she started to let us pet her and even put her on our laps. She is an incredibly gentle and sweet cat and it boggles our minds that someone could ever abandon her.
When I say Molly had kittens, I mean she had kittens. 6 to be exact. Which, I'm not going to lie, has been wonderful to look at every day. When I am doing the dishes and look out the window and see three kittens on a scratcher sleeping smooshed together or two chasing each other around hopping like rabbits, it's impossible not to smile. When I walk outside to check on them and six kittens rush the gate all at once, well, it's every bit as cute as you'd think and then some.
We've had to wait until now to start really trying to get the kittens adopted out, because until recently they were still breastfeeding. As much as we would love to keep them all, 3 cats is already insane, 9 impossible. If they stayed at this age forever, it'd be a different story. Fortunately, one of them finally got a home. We figured the runt would go first, and she did. She has an incredibly squished face which is irresistible. She also has tons of spunk and moxie. It was sad to see her go. Two more followed in the next week. Three remain; we're hoping to get them all good homes pretty quickly. It's much more difficult than you might imagine. All the animal rescues are full and there are tons of people trying to adopt out kittens. Spay and neuter, people, spay and neuter.
We thought Molly might have a home too, but it fell through. At this point, it's seeming less and less likely by the day. It's hard enough to find homes for insanely cute kittens, what chance does a 1 year old - even a super sweet one - really have? We certainly hope something comes up, but at the end of the day, it's looking more and more likely that Molly will be our 4th - and FINAL - cat. She's much too gentle and sweet to have to live outdoors. She deserves a real home. And heck, she adopted us months ago. I didn't know it could work like that, but apparently it does, as we're quite taken with her.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
A trip to the moon
On Saturday night, the wife and I went to see a screening of the color restoration of Georges Melies' "A Trip to the Moon" - a 109-year old picture of which no surviving color prints existed, until one was miraculously discovered in 2000. Restoration - both because of its complexity and because of a lack of adequate technology - took over ten years. But it was worth it! Like many people, I had become aware of Melies primarily from watching "Hugo." That film, as good as it was, though, did not adequately recapture the magic that we saw on the screen Saturday night.
Melies' style is fantastical and magical. Melies made no attempt to represent reality, but was more of a stage magician and artist. His sensibility was wildly imaginative and evocative. The energy in the film is manic and contagious. The film was inspired by Jules Verne's novel "From the Earth to the Moon," and captures a group of astronomers planning and executing a rocket ship trip to the moon - ultimately landing in the eye of the moon's face - in one of the most famous images in film history. The scientists encounter hostile life on the Moon and are ultimately forced to escape back to their capsule and return to earth, where the capsule parachutes into the ocean where the scientists are rescued.
I strongly recommend checking out this film, as well as Melies' work in general. A dvd of the colorized version of the film, together with the fantastic new soundtrack by AIR and a documentary on the film and the restoration process are available now at http://www.flickeralley.com/
Melies' style is fantastical and magical. Melies made no attempt to represent reality, but was more of a stage magician and artist. His sensibility was wildly imaginative and evocative. The energy in the film is manic and contagious. The film was inspired by Jules Verne's novel "From the Earth to the Moon," and captures a group of astronomers planning and executing a rocket ship trip to the moon - ultimately landing in the eye of the moon's face - in one of the most famous images in film history. The scientists encounter hostile life on the Moon and are ultimately forced to escape back to their capsule and return to earth, where the capsule parachutes into the ocean where the scientists are rescued.
I strongly recommend checking out this film, as well as Melies' work in general. A dvd of the colorized version of the film, together with the fantastic new soundtrack by AIR and a documentary on the film and the restoration process are available now at http://www.flickeralley.com/
Thursday, February 9, 2012
How Much is that Kitty in the Window?
Monday Night we got a visitor to our patio. Specifically, a black and white cat. This isn’t uncommon for us. Our neighborhood has many stray cats wandering around; several of our neighbors allow their cats outdoors. This one planted itself on the mat outside our living room. We have no shade, so outside kitty could just stare in at us and our cats – and it did.
As expected, our cats were interested in this stranger. The outside cat was extremely friendly. It repeatedly tried to play with our cats through the glass, flopping and showing its belly whenever they got close. Later, when we played with Louis with a laser, it saw the laser and went after it. Outside kiddy is adorable.
We didn’t give outside kitty too much thought until the following morning, when we found it in the same spot it had been in the night before. We wondered if it had been there all night. Did it have an owner and was lost, or was it simply abandoned? Outside kitty looked well taken care of, not skinny, with fluffy fur and a positive disposition. No collar though.
Or maybe outside kitty just really liked us. Janessa guessed the kitty was a girl and that she was there because she had fallen for Louis. Outside kitty seemed to get especially excited with Louis paid it attention. Whenever we went out and tried to approach outside kitty though, it was skittish. Through the glass it didn’t mind us, but up close, it ran away. Still it persisted in its spot, trying to get our cats to play with it whenever it had the chance.
Outside kitty was there the next morning. And the next evening. We had no way to know if it had been there all day or had gone somewhere to eat or sleep or anything else. We were getting a little concerned. Was this cat stubbornly waiting us out?
We certainly couldn’t let it in. Our household was still adjusting to Francis, our kitten, and Francis himself was still recovering from being neutered on Tuesday. We couldn’t seriously consider adding another cat to the household.
This continued and, as far as I know, is still going on. Every once in a while, outside kitty vanishes for half an hour or so but then returns as if it had never left. We hope it is going somewhere and eating. We can’t put food out for it – both because it’d never leave and because it’d attract other strays and wild animals – but it doesn’t seem as though outside kitty is going hungry. Still, we’re at a loss how to proceed. We resorted to google to try to figure out what was going on. All we learned was that some outside cats hang around a house if they think the owner is “neat.” Thank god outside kitty hasn’t seen my studio!
So here we are. Each time outside kitty has disappeared part of me has been relieved and another part has hoped it would reappear. Assuming outside kitty stays around even longer, our only plan right now is to try to see if it has an owner. If not, I guess we’ll try to find it a good home. One thing’s for sure, it’s extremely stubborn. It’s as though outside kitty has decided it will adopt us, come hell or high water, and it is holding a vigil on our porch-step until we come to our senses. It’s a sweet, adorable cat and I really hope it has – or finds – a loving home.
As expected, our cats were interested in this stranger. The outside cat was extremely friendly. It repeatedly tried to play with our cats through the glass, flopping and showing its belly whenever they got close. Later, when we played with Louis with a laser, it saw the laser and went after it. Outside kiddy is adorable.
We didn’t give outside kitty too much thought until the following morning, when we found it in the same spot it had been in the night before. We wondered if it had been there all night. Did it have an owner and was lost, or was it simply abandoned? Outside kitty looked well taken care of, not skinny, with fluffy fur and a positive disposition. No collar though.
Or maybe outside kitty just really liked us. Janessa guessed the kitty was a girl and that she was there because she had fallen for Louis. Outside kitty seemed to get especially excited with Louis paid it attention. Whenever we went out and tried to approach outside kitty though, it was skittish. Through the glass it didn’t mind us, but up close, it ran away. Still it persisted in its spot, trying to get our cats to play with it whenever it had the chance.
Outside kitty was there the next morning. And the next evening. We had no way to know if it had been there all day or had gone somewhere to eat or sleep or anything else. We were getting a little concerned. Was this cat stubbornly waiting us out?
We certainly couldn’t let it in. Our household was still adjusting to Francis, our kitten, and Francis himself was still recovering from being neutered on Tuesday. We couldn’t seriously consider adding another cat to the household.
This continued and, as far as I know, is still going on. Every once in a while, outside kitty vanishes for half an hour or so but then returns as if it had never left. We hope it is going somewhere and eating. We can’t put food out for it – both because it’d never leave and because it’d attract other strays and wild animals – but it doesn’t seem as though outside kitty is going hungry. Still, we’re at a loss how to proceed. We resorted to google to try to figure out what was going on. All we learned was that some outside cats hang around a house if they think the owner is “neat.” Thank god outside kitty hasn’t seen my studio!
So here we are. Each time outside kitty has disappeared part of me has been relieved and another part has hoped it would reappear. Assuming outside kitty stays around even longer, our only plan right now is to try to see if it has an owner. If not, I guess we’ll try to find it a good home. One thing’s for sure, it’s extremely stubborn. It’s as though outside kitty has decided it will adopt us, come hell or high water, and it is holding a vigil on our porch-step until we come to our senses. It’s a sweet, adorable cat and I really hope it has – or finds – a loving home.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Francis the Killer Kitten
NOTE: The below was written in November and never published. There is an update at the end. Thanks.
About a month back, my wife sent me a rather alarming email. My wife and a coworker heard an abandoned kitten crying just outside her office. My wife wrote that no one at her office was able to take the kitten home permanently. I was reluctant because I know my wife - she always wants to adopt another cat, so I have to serve as the voice of reason. Janessa resorted to low blow tactics, however, by sending me the following photo:
Try saying no to that face! Anyway, we ultimately decided to take the kitten in on a provisional basis. We were both concerned that his presence might negatively affect Rewind and Louis, our two cats, and resolved to find the kitten a suitable home should it be necessary.
We isolated our kitten in its own room, both to ease the transition and because it had not yet had its shots (it was too small, only a few weeks old). After lots of eating and pampering, he began to come out of his shell. My wife and I had several discussions about what to name him, with me preferring non-human names and my wife the opposite. In the end, the kitten's name just came to me one day as I stared into his little eyes: Francis. This is what such a small cute thing should be called. Janessa loved the name and it stuck.
I'd never had a kitten before. Rewind was my first cat and she was about 10 months old when I got here. Several people told me it was a bad idea to get a kitten as my first cat and I grudgingly listened to them. It worked out great, of course, because that's the only reason I ended up with Rewind. Well, I finally learned exactly why it had been a bad idea to start with a kitten! They are unstoppable perpetual motion machines lacking boundaries, order and common sense. Of course they are also adorable, which goes a long way.
Like most kittens, Francis is a natural born hunter. It didn't take long at all before he was stalking toys and pouncing on whatever moved - often our feet. Right at the beginning he started doing what we think of as his trademark: popping up on his back legs and raising his arms as a threat of attack. Francis wants to look big, and this move frequently comes in the middle of play sessions. It is incredibly cute and endearing.
Francis never stops. He basically plays, poops and eats, with the latter two making his play even more spirited. It was weeks before I caught him relaxed enough to purr - though when he does it is LOUD, his whole body shakes. We can literally play with Francis for hours. The nice thing is that he is so crazy that we can often do it with minimal effort, sitting on a couch and waving a toy around. Sometimes he is so crazy he doesn't need us at all and simply attacks the toy on his own. Sometimes WE become his target and he goes crazy trying to attack any part of us he can reach. Sometimes I think kittens are sponsored by Band-Aids.
Also, Francis is fearless. We're finally at the point where Francis can be in the same room with the other cats for small periods and hopefully soon, all the time. I was concerned about how he would do with such bigger cats around (and how they would respond to him). In fact it only took a few minutes before Francis started to attack Louis like crazy and chase him throughout the house. Francis somehow instantly sensed that Louis was a pushover and, before we knew it - became a bully to a cat roughly 5 times his size. Louis does stand up for himself sometimes, though, although occasionally we have to give him a break and put Francis away.
As fearless as Francis is though, he is far from the alpha kitty. Rewind is and will always be the dominant cat in our house. She is STONE COLD. Francis will approach her and Rewind will not even flinch. She may swat at him a bit if he gets too close, but mostly just a glance in his direction seems to communicate everything. Whenever Francis gets even within a small area of Rewind, he treads carefully. Rewind is not impressed with Francis and barely pays him any attention at all. Several times we've seen Francis get his audacity up and walk up to her proudly only to slink away at the last moment. It's really quite amazing. We are glad Francis is learning something about boundaries, at least.
One of the best side effects of crazy kitten time has been its effect on both Louis and Rewind who are now more playful than they have each been in years. They constantly hear Francis playing in the adjacent room and his spirit seems to have infected them. Both of them could use more exercise, so we are thrilled with this result. Of course neither can keep up with Francis for long so they are not exactly playmates, but both Rewind and Louis are healthier for it.
Francis has been a wonderful addition to our family and we can't wait to watch him grow into cathood. We are both so glad we decided to save him. Here he is being held by me:
Edit: January 2, 2012:
I'd meant to publish this long ago, but it slipped off my desk. Since I wrote it, lots of things have changed. Francis has become much more integrated with the other cats, and much calmer as a result. We now have him out all day long and only put him away at night so that we can sleep. He's still crazy, but he's a little more under control.
Also, his (excuse the pun) pussyfooting around Rewind ended quickly. He realized pretty fast that Rewind was all threat and no follow-through and started attacking. Most of the time, he wins, because Rewind is too lazy to fight back and gets annoyed and runs away. Photographic evidence of Francis' courage:
About a month back, my wife sent me a rather alarming email. My wife and a coworker heard an abandoned kitten crying just outside her office. My wife wrote that no one at her office was able to take the kitten home permanently. I was reluctant because I know my wife - she always wants to adopt another cat, so I have to serve as the voice of reason. Janessa resorted to low blow tactics, however, by sending me the following photo:
Try saying no to that face! Anyway, we ultimately decided to take the kitten in on a provisional basis. We were both concerned that his presence might negatively affect Rewind and Louis, our two cats, and resolved to find the kitten a suitable home should it be necessary.
We isolated our kitten in its own room, both to ease the transition and because it had not yet had its shots (it was too small, only a few weeks old). After lots of eating and pampering, he began to come out of his shell. My wife and I had several discussions about what to name him, with me preferring non-human names and my wife the opposite. In the end, the kitten's name just came to me one day as I stared into his little eyes: Francis. This is what such a small cute thing should be called. Janessa loved the name and it stuck.
I'd never had a kitten before. Rewind was my first cat and she was about 10 months old when I got here. Several people told me it was a bad idea to get a kitten as my first cat and I grudgingly listened to them. It worked out great, of course, because that's the only reason I ended up with Rewind. Well, I finally learned exactly why it had been a bad idea to start with a kitten! They are unstoppable perpetual motion machines lacking boundaries, order and common sense. Of course they are also adorable, which goes a long way.
Like most kittens, Francis is a natural born hunter. It didn't take long at all before he was stalking toys and pouncing on whatever moved - often our feet. Right at the beginning he started doing what we think of as his trademark: popping up on his back legs and raising his arms as a threat of attack. Francis wants to look big, and this move frequently comes in the middle of play sessions. It is incredibly cute and endearing.
Francis never stops. He basically plays, poops and eats, with the latter two making his play even more spirited. It was weeks before I caught him relaxed enough to purr - though when he does it is LOUD, his whole body shakes. We can literally play with Francis for hours. The nice thing is that he is so crazy that we can often do it with minimal effort, sitting on a couch and waving a toy around. Sometimes he is so crazy he doesn't need us at all and simply attacks the toy on his own. Sometimes WE become his target and he goes crazy trying to attack any part of us he can reach. Sometimes I think kittens are sponsored by Band-Aids.
Also, Francis is fearless. We're finally at the point where Francis can be in the same room with the other cats for small periods and hopefully soon, all the time. I was concerned about how he would do with such bigger cats around (and how they would respond to him). In fact it only took a few minutes before Francis started to attack Louis like crazy and chase him throughout the house. Francis somehow instantly sensed that Louis was a pushover and, before we knew it - became a bully to a cat roughly 5 times his size. Louis does stand up for himself sometimes, though, although occasionally we have to give him a break and put Francis away.
As fearless as Francis is though, he is far from the alpha kitty. Rewind is and will always be the dominant cat in our house. She is STONE COLD. Francis will approach her and Rewind will not even flinch. She may swat at him a bit if he gets too close, but mostly just a glance in his direction seems to communicate everything. Whenever Francis gets even within a small area of Rewind, he treads carefully. Rewind is not impressed with Francis and barely pays him any attention at all. Several times we've seen Francis get his audacity up and walk up to her proudly only to slink away at the last moment. It's really quite amazing. We are glad Francis is learning something about boundaries, at least.
One of the best side effects of crazy kitten time has been its effect on both Louis and Rewind who are now more playful than they have each been in years. They constantly hear Francis playing in the adjacent room and his spirit seems to have infected them. Both of them could use more exercise, so we are thrilled with this result. Of course neither can keep up with Francis for long so they are not exactly playmates, but both Rewind and Louis are healthier for it.
Francis has been a wonderful addition to our family and we can't wait to watch him grow into cathood. We are both so glad we decided to save him. Here he is being held by me:
Edit: January 2, 2012:
I'd meant to publish this long ago, but it slipped off my desk. Since I wrote it, lots of things have changed. Francis has become much more integrated with the other cats, and much calmer as a result. We now have him out all day long and only put him away at night so that we can sleep. He's still crazy, but he's a little more under control.
Also, his (excuse the pun) pussyfooting around Rewind ended quickly. He realized pretty fast that Rewind was all threat and no follow-through and started attacking. Most of the time, he wins, because Rewind is too lazy to fight back and gets annoyed and runs away. Photographic evidence of Francis' courage:
Sunday, November 13, 2011
The Silent Page
For a writer, there is a silent tyranny to the blank page. The blankness suggests a vacuum in the writer's own heart - a lack of direction, inspiration - motivation, that never finally dissipates. The chase to fill this empty space can occupy a writer forever and that writer can still lose in the end.
Most of my life, I've been told that I should be a writer - one form of writer or another. It's understandable. Language dominates my interface with the world. I learned to read when I was 4 and never stopped. I was one of those kids who would borrow ten books from the library at once, read them all in a week and come back for more. In the pre-internet era, imagination was as magical and vivid as we dreamed it could be. Books were only truly successful when they were a collaborative experience between the reader and the writer. Creativity was as natural - and as effortless - as breathing.
As I've aged, my fascination with language and writing has only increased, but my creativity seems to be on a continuous downward slope. I think that, in part, this is due to the flood of media now surrounding us at every turn. Creativity consists of filling the gaps. When there are no gaps, there is nothing to create and originality suffers. To be sure, this is at least as much my own fault as my environment. I've become a bit too lazy, a bit too relaxed and happy. This condition is good for one's physical health, perhaps, but anathema to one's creative health.
At many points in the past few years I have realized that my desire to write can only be accomplished by actually writing - and that this can only be accomplished with a daily discipline that I seem to lack. Intellectually, I know that writing is like any other pursuit one wishes to be habitual - the first two or three weeks are the most difficult part. Creating a routine, ironically, is the key to true creative success. Only repetition can breed originality.
So this blog entry represents the first step in my latest attempt to transform myself from a dreamer to a doer. I am hopeful that committing myself to doing some writing everyday - even on mundane subjects - will stoke my creative fires and motivate me to get off my ass and DO SOMETHING. Whether this will just be another failed attempt or an actual beginning is unclear to me at this moment. But I have to try.
edit: no dice, but I'm going to keep trying...
Most of my life, I've been told that I should be a writer - one form of writer or another. It's understandable. Language dominates my interface with the world. I learned to read when I was 4 and never stopped. I was one of those kids who would borrow ten books from the library at once, read them all in a week and come back for more. In the pre-internet era, imagination was as magical and vivid as we dreamed it could be. Books were only truly successful when they were a collaborative experience between the reader and the writer. Creativity was as natural - and as effortless - as breathing.
As I've aged, my fascination with language and writing has only increased, but my creativity seems to be on a continuous downward slope. I think that, in part, this is due to the flood of media now surrounding us at every turn. Creativity consists of filling the gaps. When there are no gaps, there is nothing to create and originality suffers. To be sure, this is at least as much my own fault as my environment. I've become a bit too lazy, a bit too relaxed and happy. This condition is good for one's physical health, perhaps, but anathema to one's creative health.
At many points in the past few years I have realized that my desire to write can only be accomplished by actually writing - and that this can only be accomplished with a daily discipline that I seem to lack. Intellectually, I know that writing is like any other pursuit one wishes to be habitual - the first two or three weeks are the most difficult part. Creating a routine, ironically, is the key to true creative success. Only repetition can breed originality.
So this blog entry represents the first step in my latest attempt to transform myself from a dreamer to a doer. I am hopeful that committing myself to doing some writing everyday - even on mundane subjects - will stoke my creative fires and motivate me to get off my ass and DO SOMETHING. Whether this will just be another failed attempt or an actual beginning is unclear to me at this moment. But I have to try.
edit: no dice, but I'm going to keep trying...
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
One Year No Coffee Anniversary
One year ago today I sipped my morning coffee only to feel a strong burning sensation in my stomach. Intuiting that this wasn't a good thing - I stopped, and set up a doctor's appointment. My stomach had been bothering me for a few days quite a bit. I assumed it was just a bug because the wife had just finished a two week stomach ordeal that matched my symptoms almost exactly.
I was wrong.
Sadly, I soon came to understand that I had extreme GERD - chronic heartburn, in other words. I'd had some problems with heartburn in the past but had been taking nexium for several years and this had succeeded in suppressing the symptoms - until now. I underwent an endoscopy and my GI doctor told me flat out that I had to quit drinking all caffeine for my own good - to allow my gut to heal. Maybe not forever, but for several years at the very least.
I was livid and actively rejected this analysis for some time. I kept drinking tea, though I didn't touch coffee, because I believed that it was the tannins - not the caffeine - that was causing my problem. I was half right. It was both.
After taking a few weeks completely off caffeine during an intense work phase, I tried a cup of white tea one morning - the lowest dose of caffeine in a drink available. My stomach burned in pain for two days.
Uh oh.
Slowly, I began to accept reality. It still took me until early this year to part with my nearly twenty pounds of green (unroasted) coffee. I kept thinking things would turn around. Well, they haven't. I hope they do one day, but I am caffeine free for the foreseeable future.
If you told me tomorrow I could drink coffee without destroying my stomach - I would. But the truth is, I know I am healthier this way. I feel better, have more energy, sleep better and my day is much less of a roller coaster.
Still, it's crazy to think that a year ago I was returning from WSOP and drinking coffee and now can't drink coffee and online poker has been effectively stolen from my grasp by the DOJ. Life is crazy sometimes. I am happier than ever despite it all, and I guess that's what counts.
I was wrong.
Sadly, I soon came to understand that I had extreme GERD - chronic heartburn, in other words. I'd had some problems with heartburn in the past but had been taking nexium for several years and this had succeeded in suppressing the symptoms - until now. I underwent an endoscopy and my GI doctor told me flat out that I had to quit drinking all caffeine for my own good - to allow my gut to heal. Maybe not forever, but for several years at the very least.
I was livid and actively rejected this analysis for some time. I kept drinking tea, though I didn't touch coffee, because I believed that it was the tannins - not the caffeine - that was causing my problem. I was half right. It was both.
After taking a few weeks completely off caffeine during an intense work phase, I tried a cup of white tea one morning - the lowest dose of caffeine in a drink available. My stomach burned in pain for two days.
Uh oh.
Slowly, I began to accept reality. It still took me until early this year to part with my nearly twenty pounds of green (unroasted) coffee. I kept thinking things would turn around. Well, they haven't. I hope they do one day, but I am caffeine free for the foreseeable future.
If you told me tomorrow I could drink coffee without destroying my stomach - I would. But the truth is, I know I am healthier this way. I feel better, have more energy, sleep better and my day is much less of a roller coaster.
Still, it's crazy to think that a year ago I was returning from WSOP and drinking coffee and now can't drink coffee and online poker has been effectively stolen from my grasp by the DOJ. Life is crazy sometimes. I am happier than ever despite it all, and I guess that's what counts.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
On Television and the Communal Experience
Last night, I had the pleasure of attending PaleyFest2011's 'Parks and Recreation' night. The entire cast - with the exception of Rob Lowe - and the co-creators, Michael Schur and Greg Daniels, were in attendance. As with all PaleyFest events, the night began with an airing of an episode of the show - this one has not aired yet and will not air until March 17. I won't spoil anything, I will simply say it's probably the best episode yet - don't miss it. The episode was followed by a Q&A by the cast, which was great.
This isn't the first PaleyFest event I've been to, but each time it feels odd to watch an episode of television in a huge room full of people. The feeling is so different from sitting on your couch at home. For one thing, the screen is massive. But the really significant part is the shared feeling of experiencing something that the audience loves.
The nature of television is inherently isolating. Most television is watched alone or with family. Occasionally, for a big event like a season finale, there are viewing parties. By and large, though television is most often experienced in a solitary setting. This is in stark contrast to film, where I'd argue that the communal nature of a theatrical release is at least as significant a part of the experience as the actual film itself.
For most of the history of television, film has had this advantage over television, but that advantage has greatly diminished. The Internet has transformed television from a largely solitary pursuit to an interactive media experience. Buzz over television used to be limited to the water-cooler. Today, countless sites like Vulture and the AV Club pick apart every episode of popular programs. Critics like Alan Sepinwall give near-instant breakdowns of shows that are read and commented on by thousands of people. Facebook and Twitter allow viewers to update their responses to programming in real time and interact with each other in the process. As a result, TV no longer lacks the communal qualities inherent in film and live theater. And, while the experience is still qualitatively different than viewing a film or play in a room full of people, television is a far richer experience than it once was, and the Net is a big part of the reason why.
This isn't the first PaleyFest event I've been to, but each time it feels odd to watch an episode of television in a huge room full of people. The feeling is so different from sitting on your couch at home. For one thing, the screen is massive. But the really significant part is the shared feeling of experiencing something that the audience loves.
The nature of television is inherently isolating. Most television is watched alone or with family. Occasionally, for a big event like a season finale, there are viewing parties. By and large, though television is most often experienced in a solitary setting. This is in stark contrast to film, where I'd argue that the communal nature of a theatrical release is at least as significant a part of the experience as the actual film itself.
For most of the history of television, film has had this advantage over television, but that advantage has greatly diminished. The Internet has transformed television from a largely solitary pursuit to an interactive media experience. Buzz over television used to be limited to the water-cooler. Today, countless sites like Vulture and the AV Club pick apart every episode of popular programs. Critics like Alan Sepinwall give near-instant breakdowns of shows that are read and commented on by thousands of people. Facebook and Twitter allow viewers to update their responses to programming in real time and interact with each other in the process. As a result, TV no longer lacks the communal qualities inherent in film and live theater. And, while the experience is still qualitatively different than viewing a film or play in a room full of people, television is a far richer experience than it once was, and the Net is a big part of the reason why.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
On the decaf brain
Well folks, I'm eight months deep in caffeine sobriety and doing surprisingly well.
I've long had a passion for coffee that lead me to roast my own beans and savor every cup with reverence and abandon. Consequently, I was devastated to hear my gastroenterologist say that I'd have to quit caffeine period back in June - due to extreme GERD.
At first - denial. I did entirely stop drinking coffee the middle of June last year. I switched to lower Caffiene content white tea, in an effort to convince myself that the tannins, rather than the caffeine, were primarily responsible for my stomach's souring. Sadly, I was wrong. I endured another month of gutpain before I finally took the plunge and dropped caffiene entirely. I had a trial a few weeks out and didn't need the tummy drama. I figured after the trial I would try again and hope my inflammed belly had cooled.
Well that trial got continued, and I was distressed to find out that two weeks were not nearly enough away from caffeine to handle it again. One cup of white tea made my stomach fire for two days. That, my friends, is a sensitive stomach. Slowly, I began to accept reality. My doctor suggested I might be able to have caffeine again in "2 or 3 years" and I began to mentally and emotionally adapt to circumstances.
Quitting caffeine itself was not the issue. I broke the addiction pretty easily - the pain was so great with it that any withdrawal seemed pale by comparison. And I had long thought that it was probably healthier to avoid caffeine. My problem was that I loved coffee and tea - the flavor and texture of them, the ritual in preparing them, the nerdy gathering of international coffees to compare and contrast their terroir and varietal. I can't even drink decaf coffee because, while the tanins are not the sole cause of my issues with coffee - they are still a cause. The same fact makes me drink red wine only scarely. (White wine, which fortunaetly for me, I like better, doesn't seem to be an issue, thankfully).
So you might say quitting was difficult for me. Indeed, I can't count the number of days I've thought to myself or aloud how much I wanted a cup of joe. That fragarent warmth coming off the cup and refreshing my mind and cleansing me of fog.
But what can I do? I really don't have a choice. As much as I love coffee, I love living and being healthy even more.
So I wearily accepted reality and hocked off 14 pounds of dry green coffee that I'd been holding in some vain hope of ever roasting them. I still have not given up the cause - I am keeping my Behmor Coffee Roaster, two Chemex brewers, and expensive bean grinder - in hopes that someday in the next few years I can use them once again. The coffee though was perishable, and I finally accepted that I wouldn't drink this particular batch.
This isn't to say my decaf brain is ALL bad. In fact, health wise it's quite good. I wake up with far more energy than before. I sleep deeper and feel more refreshed on waking. My stomach is of course happier - not just for want of acid but for my digestion. And perhaps best of all, my day does not contain as many highs and lows, but an evenness that helps me focus on the task at hand.
So I'm here to say, if you have to quit caffeine, and you don't want to - have hope. You can get through it, not just the short term but the long term. I doubt many people love coffee more than I do, but I'm through the other side.
Still, I hope you can keep drinking it.
I've long had a passion for coffee that lead me to roast my own beans and savor every cup with reverence and abandon. Consequently, I was devastated to hear my gastroenterologist say that I'd have to quit caffeine period back in June - due to extreme GERD.
At first - denial. I did entirely stop drinking coffee the middle of June last year. I switched to lower Caffiene content white tea, in an effort to convince myself that the tannins, rather than the caffeine, were primarily responsible for my stomach's souring. Sadly, I was wrong. I endured another month of gutpain before I finally took the plunge and dropped caffiene entirely. I had a trial a few weeks out and didn't need the tummy drama. I figured after the trial I would try again and hope my inflammed belly had cooled.
Well that trial got continued, and I was distressed to find out that two weeks were not nearly enough away from caffeine to handle it again. One cup of white tea made my stomach fire for two days. That, my friends, is a sensitive stomach. Slowly, I began to accept reality. My doctor suggested I might be able to have caffeine again in "2 or 3 years" and I began to mentally and emotionally adapt to circumstances.
Quitting caffeine itself was not the issue. I broke the addiction pretty easily - the pain was so great with it that any withdrawal seemed pale by comparison. And I had long thought that it was probably healthier to avoid caffeine. My problem was that I loved coffee and tea - the flavor and texture of them, the ritual in preparing them, the nerdy gathering of international coffees to compare and contrast their terroir and varietal. I can't even drink decaf coffee because, while the tanins are not the sole cause of my issues with coffee - they are still a cause. The same fact makes me drink red wine only scarely. (White wine, which fortunaetly for me, I like better, doesn't seem to be an issue, thankfully).
So you might say quitting was difficult for me. Indeed, I can't count the number of days I've thought to myself or aloud how much I wanted a cup of joe. That fragarent warmth coming off the cup and refreshing my mind and cleansing me of fog.
But what can I do? I really don't have a choice. As much as I love coffee, I love living and being healthy even more.
So I wearily accepted reality and hocked off 14 pounds of dry green coffee that I'd been holding in some vain hope of ever roasting them. I still have not given up the cause - I am keeping my Behmor Coffee Roaster, two Chemex brewers, and expensive bean grinder - in hopes that someday in the next few years I can use them once again. The coffee though was perishable, and I finally accepted that I wouldn't drink this particular batch.
This isn't to say my decaf brain is ALL bad. In fact, health wise it's quite good. I wake up with far more energy than before. I sleep deeper and feel more refreshed on waking. My stomach is of course happier - not just for want of acid but for my digestion. And perhaps best of all, my day does not contain as many highs and lows, but an evenness that helps me focus on the task at hand.
So I'm here to say, if you have to quit caffeine, and you don't want to - have hope. You can get through it, not just the short term but the long term. I doubt many people love coffee more than I do, but I'm through the other side.
Still, I hope you can keep drinking it.
Friday, July 9, 2010
2 Years On and Still The Perfect Marriage (for us)
"What real lovers are really craving for is to become really one, soul and body, with their other half. But if we fail in piety, we are in danger of being quartered instead." - Plato through Aristophanes in "The Symposium."
Monday is Janessa and I's second wedding anniversary; our marriage gets sweeter by the hour. I have often heard people say "just wait" and "you'll hit a wall" but those are the same people who say "marriage changes everything" and "she will turn into a different person after the wedding," none of which has happened - even remotely. In any case, with the disclaimer that we've only been married two years (but together much longer), I thought it appropriate to write about some of the reasons we have the perfect relationship (for us).
First, and fundamental is TRUST. This may sound like a cliche, but trust, in addition to passion, obviously, constitute the foundation of our marriage. Janessa and I have the most open, honest relationship I've ever had - not just in a romantic relationship, but in any relationship. We can say anything we feel to each other.
This does NOT mean that we tell each other everything; merely that we have no secrets from each other. What do I mean? We both love and know each other enough to know that we don't need to talk about all aspects of our lives. Sometimes things are better left unsaid. Emotional honesty and love guide our connection.
There is more. Another component of trust is mutual respect for the other's autonomy. This is HUGE for us; I can't imagine a successful relationship without it. Here's what I mean - Janessa and I have plenty in common. We are both foodies, love cinema and art, relish travel and relaxation and get boundless joy from our cats. But we also have separate interests. I am passionate about coffee. I love poker, video games and basketball. I spin records and have started producing music again. Janessa has her crafts and sewing. She is passionate about design, loves to cook and bake, and is crazy for animation. So we spend a healthy amount of time apart.
In all the time we've been together, I don't remember Janessa ever demanding I call her or account for my whereabouts. Of course I call sometimes, anyway, especially when traveling apart, but the point is Janessa trusts me and I trust her. Heck, she hardly ever calls or emails me when we're not together unless it's for something functional, like planning things to do together or shopping or other such things. I'm never looking over my shoulder, never asking for permission to do anything. And I share with her reciprocal trust and respect.
Make no mistake, I care deeply about what Janessa thinks and feels. I often ask her advice about parts of my life she'd never know about (or probably care about otherwise). When I have plans with Janessa, there is an implied understanding that we will not break our plans without talking about it or disrespect each other in anyway. It's just that Janessa and I trust each other enough not to need to check in with each other every other minute. We both love having our own interests and neither of us would feel complete if we didn't retain and nurture those interests. We both believe that a function of a good relationship of any kind is to support each other and respect each other's need for individuality and expression.
Of course it's not all about serious, weighty stuff. People say "opposites attract" but I think that's not quite right, or at least "opposites attract but don't usually stay together" is more accurate. I think the best relationships are where people complement each other and fit together, Venn Diagram style.
So it's fabulous that Janessa and I share the same sense of humor and make each other laugh all the time. I don't know that a great sense of humor is really what women are looking for, but without one, I don't know how a relationship can stay strong. Janessa and I both have a taste for the silly and profane, though, naturally, my taste tends a bit more to the slapstick than hers. I always loved the gag-a-minute stuff like Airplane and the Naked Gun, her not so much. But we both love love love Arrested Development, Adam West, John Waters flicks, Steven Colbert and Maria Bamford, to name a few. We also share a love of the absurd and arty that makes us crazy for Tim and Eric, Food Party, David Lynch and Satoshi Kon and others. We have great conversations about food, art, and all the best parts of life, enriching each other and the experiences we share simultaneously. What could be better?
Janessa and I have a lot of fun together when spend time with each other. There's lots of laughter, lots of joy, crazy chemistry and a shared passion for living and experience that means we never get tired of each other and, I have a deep faith that we never will.
I shouldn't leave out that Janessa and I are, at our core, skeptical, analytical folk. When we were watching TV near the beginning of our relationship and an ad for a Romantic Comedy flick appeared, Janessa made a sour face and expressed her distaste for the genre. When I heard that I nearly proposed on the spot! Neither of us are sappy by nature or harbor hackneyed ideals like "true love" or "destiny."
Even though I don't believe in these ideals, I understand where they come from. I fit together with Janessa in such a way that it does feel magical and fated. I love Janessa unconditionally, with everything that I am. I have never felt like I do when I am with her - the best feeling I've ever had. I am stronger for being with her, centered, calm, and able to fully be myself without doubt or insecurity.
This love hasn't faded with time, it's continually gotten stronger. Our honesty, trust, passion, laughter, and most of all love, sustain us and make our marriage thrive. I can't imagine being with anyone else and being happy and hope I never have to try.
I love you, sweetie.
Happy Anniversary.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Vegas Trip Report
It's tough to imagine writing a Vegas trip report sooner than a week after. It sorta takes that long to get back into the groove of things.
This particular trip was a mixed bag. The poker didn't go too well. At all. But, the wife came, and we managed to have a really fun time in Vegas anyhow.
We flew out late Thursday night. Stayed at Gold Coast, which is right across the street from the Rio where WSOP is - only cheaper than Rio, and, in my opinion, nicer. Rio is so overwhelming. Not the WSOP part of it, which is great, but the regular hotel with the flippin flying boat shit. Everytime the wife and I went to our room last year we had to walk through this, it was like Mardi Gras Uber Light now with Added Frat Guys. Loud, smokey and generally unpleasant once you are over 22. Also the beds sucked and the rooms weren't really anything special.
Anyway, Gold Coast was cool. I was playing in a $1,500 no limit WSOP event on Friday at noon, so went over to Rio, had a good breakfast and played a bit. Unfortunately, it was just one of those days where I wasn't getting cards and good situations at identical times, if that makes sense. I got whittled down from 5k to about 3500 by the end of the first two hours. Nothing special, won a few small pots, lost a couple of medium ones, but really not finding any spots.
I get back and the very first hand I look down and see pocket 7s. I'm in the cutoff and haven't seen a pair yet so this looks great. We're at 75/150, so I make it 450 to go. It folds around to the small blind who tanks for about a minute then puts me in. Well. I still have 3k and I don't think this is a great spot to get my money in. So I fold after pretending to think about it for about 30 seconds.
Two hands later, I look down and see Queens. A sight for sore eyes, indeed. So the exact same thing happens. I make it 450 and the guy now in the small blind 3bets to 2200 or so. At this point I've got about 2500 left so it's stack decision time. I really don't see how I can fold queens with so much in the middle and my current stack. So I call. I mean to put the rest in but call by mistake. The guy says "that's ok I'll just put the rest in in the dark," which is NOT what you want to hear. The flop came 10 high or something with rags and looked good. Of course he had KK and I didn't improve, tournament over. So that kinda sucked.
I was a bit dejected when I left. It's funny, I walked right by Scotty Nguyen taking a picture with some girls and then not twenty feet later saw Chris Ferguson hurridly go by me to wherever Chris Ferguson goes at a time like this, but I didn't feel excited just annoyed. Seeing world champs after busting so early didn't sit right with me at the time. Of course, this is stupid, but hey, anything worth doing is! (Isn't that the phrase?)
So we went to plan b. The Palms has a movie theater. Perfect. We look to see if anything good is out and realize Get Him to the Greek has just opened, the one movie that's come out in months that we thought looked good. Excellent. Go to a matinee and laugh forever. Terrific movie, especially if you liked Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
We then went to dinner at Gaylord's, this strangely-named but fabulous Indian restaurant at Rio. Food is terrific. We split a really nice bottle of Riseling and the pairing works great. Not surprisingly for us old people, sleep follows soon thereafter.
The next day I had options. The Venetian, Caesar's Palace and the Golden Nugget were all having daily deep stack tournaments during WSOP. I end up going to the Nugget because it's $135 while Caesar's is $225 and Venetian $340. If I'm going to last 2-3 hours, I'd rather spend less I reason. Golden Nugget was nicer than expected. Tournaments are in a big convention center type room. The structure was good, starting 12k deep at 25/50.
This one goes better, but only marginally so. I'm dribbling chips gradually, just slower than the day before. It becomes obvious that the guy on my right is an experienced, tough player. He makes my life difficult because he's raising so much that I can't establish a rhythm of raising myself. I try to sneak in an under the gun steal w/AJs and he comes over the top without any thought. Later he raises right before me in middle position and I flat with AK. An aggressive young guy to my left 3bets and, once again without hesitation, the tough guy shoves over and he has us both covered. Great spot. I fold without much hesitation. The guy behind me is yet to act and I have about 8k at 75/150. This is not the time to take a stand. I think online it might have different, but live is certainly tighter.
A little later, at 100/200 he raises in early position to 600 or so. I see pocket queens and know I am raising. I bump it up to 1800 or so, it folds back to him and he calls. The flop comes jack high rag rainbow. He checks and I put in 3k or so which is half my stack or so after the preflop action. He immediately pushes in. Great, I think, I'm going to lose with QQ again. I'm probably against JJ or a smaller set. At this point though, I'm pot committed and have to go with it. He turns over QQ and I let out a deep sigh of relief. The dealer says "at least you didn't lose anything" and I think he misreads me, I'm glad I wasn't BEHIND.
Once again, I gradually chip down. It's tough to find spots with this guy and a few other aggressive players at the table. Finally, around 200/400, I pick up JJ in early/mid position and pop it up to 1200. After the raise my stack is down to about 8k. The young aggro guy in middle position thinks for a bit and then 3bets to 4000 or so. I've seen this guy fire three bullets on a paired board with an underpair so I know he's capable of making a move. Again, I feel pretty committed and am ready to flip if necessary.
To put this in perspective, I should explain that I was really hungry by this point and probably not thinking as well as I should have been. I hadn't really planned the day well. Tournament started at noon but there's zip for me to eat at a place like Golden Nugget, so I was eating protein bars, by 5pm or so I wasn't in the best shape.
Anyway, I shove, he calls with QQ and day 2 is over.
I'm annoyed about this happening 2 days in a row, plus it just happens to be about 105 in Vegas, so by the time I get back to Gold Coast I'm covered in sweat, starving, and still a bit grumpy. I remember that there's an asian place in our hotel that seemed to understand the gluten-free thing. The day before we had lunch there and talked to the manager who made sure nothing we had contained soy sauce. Great. I know they have a fried tofu appetizer, so I think perfect. I clarify with the guy that I'm allergic to soy sauce, wheat etc, he says it's just tofu fried in oil with garlic. Ok. I get it and eat five or six before I get enough blood back in my head to realize that this shit tastes way too good to not be breaded. Great. Now I'm glutened for three days or more. I don't react well to this information, but eventually I move on.
The good news about busting out early is that we can go see Don Rickles, who's playing at the Orleans. I'd been wanting to see Rickles for a few years, ever since I saw his documentary "Mr. Warmth" and I especially thought it would be cool to see him in Vegas, which seemed most appropriate. I also figured I'd better take whatever chance I could. He has to be 90 - it's amazing he's still performing! Obviously, I hadn't seen him before, but he was SHARP and absolutely hysterical. A performer in his opening act says that her parents are there for their 50th wedding anniversary. The parents had come to Vegas and seen Rickles on their first wedding anniversary in 1961. I shit you not. Crazy.
Anyway, we had a great dinner at Orleans at - a different asian place where our waiter knew all about the gluten thing and treated us great. Then Rickles was terrific. That's the trip report, not stop asking me.
:P
This particular trip was a mixed bag. The poker didn't go too well. At all. But, the wife came, and we managed to have a really fun time in Vegas anyhow.
We flew out late Thursday night. Stayed at Gold Coast, which is right across the street from the Rio where WSOP is - only cheaper than Rio, and, in my opinion, nicer. Rio is so overwhelming. Not the WSOP part of it, which is great, but the regular hotel with the flippin flying boat shit. Everytime the wife and I went to our room last year we had to walk through this, it was like Mardi Gras Uber Light now with Added Frat Guys. Loud, smokey and generally unpleasant once you are over 22. Also the beds sucked and the rooms weren't really anything special.
Anyway, Gold Coast was cool. I was playing in a $1,500 no limit WSOP event on Friday at noon, so went over to Rio, had a good breakfast and played a bit. Unfortunately, it was just one of those days where I wasn't getting cards and good situations at identical times, if that makes sense. I got whittled down from 5k to about 3500 by the end of the first two hours. Nothing special, won a few small pots, lost a couple of medium ones, but really not finding any spots.
I get back and the very first hand I look down and see pocket 7s. I'm in the cutoff and haven't seen a pair yet so this looks great. We're at 75/150, so I make it 450 to go. It folds around to the small blind who tanks for about a minute then puts me in. Well. I still have 3k and I don't think this is a great spot to get my money in. So I fold after pretending to think about it for about 30 seconds.
Two hands later, I look down and see Queens. A sight for sore eyes, indeed. So the exact same thing happens. I make it 450 and the guy now in the small blind 3bets to 2200 or so. At this point I've got about 2500 left so it's stack decision time. I really don't see how I can fold queens with so much in the middle and my current stack. So I call. I mean to put the rest in but call by mistake. The guy says "that's ok I'll just put the rest in in the dark," which is NOT what you want to hear. The flop came 10 high or something with rags and looked good. Of course he had KK and I didn't improve, tournament over. So that kinda sucked.
I was a bit dejected when I left. It's funny, I walked right by Scotty Nguyen taking a picture with some girls and then not twenty feet later saw Chris Ferguson hurridly go by me to wherever Chris Ferguson goes at a time like this, but I didn't feel excited just annoyed. Seeing world champs after busting so early didn't sit right with me at the time. Of course, this is stupid, but hey, anything worth doing is! (Isn't that the phrase?)
So we went to plan b. The Palms has a movie theater. Perfect. We look to see if anything good is out and realize Get Him to the Greek has just opened, the one movie that's come out in months that we thought looked good. Excellent. Go to a matinee and laugh forever. Terrific movie, especially if you liked Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
We then went to dinner at Gaylord's, this strangely-named but fabulous Indian restaurant at Rio. Food is terrific. We split a really nice bottle of Riseling and the pairing works great. Not surprisingly for us old people, sleep follows soon thereafter.
The next day I had options. The Venetian, Caesar's Palace and the Golden Nugget were all having daily deep stack tournaments during WSOP. I end up going to the Nugget because it's $135 while Caesar's is $225 and Venetian $340. If I'm going to last 2-3 hours, I'd rather spend less I reason. Golden Nugget was nicer than expected. Tournaments are in a big convention center type room. The structure was good, starting 12k deep at 25/50.
This one goes better, but only marginally so. I'm dribbling chips gradually, just slower than the day before. It becomes obvious that the guy on my right is an experienced, tough player. He makes my life difficult because he's raising so much that I can't establish a rhythm of raising myself. I try to sneak in an under the gun steal w/AJs and he comes over the top without any thought. Later he raises right before me in middle position and I flat with AK. An aggressive young guy to my left 3bets and, once again without hesitation, the tough guy shoves over and he has us both covered. Great spot. I fold without much hesitation. The guy behind me is yet to act and I have about 8k at 75/150. This is not the time to take a stand. I think online it might have different, but live is certainly tighter.
A little later, at 100/200 he raises in early position to 600 or so. I see pocket queens and know I am raising. I bump it up to 1800 or so, it folds back to him and he calls. The flop comes jack high rag rainbow. He checks and I put in 3k or so which is half my stack or so after the preflop action. He immediately pushes in. Great, I think, I'm going to lose with QQ again. I'm probably against JJ or a smaller set. At this point though, I'm pot committed and have to go with it. He turns over QQ and I let out a deep sigh of relief. The dealer says "at least you didn't lose anything" and I think he misreads me, I'm glad I wasn't BEHIND.
Once again, I gradually chip down. It's tough to find spots with this guy and a few other aggressive players at the table. Finally, around 200/400, I pick up JJ in early/mid position and pop it up to 1200. After the raise my stack is down to about 8k. The young aggro guy in middle position thinks for a bit and then 3bets to 4000 or so. I've seen this guy fire three bullets on a paired board with an underpair so I know he's capable of making a move. Again, I feel pretty committed and am ready to flip if necessary.
To put this in perspective, I should explain that I was really hungry by this point and probably not thinking as well as I should have been. I hadn't really planned the day well. Tournament started at noon but there's zip for me to eat at a place like Golden Nugget, so I was eating protein bars, by 5pm or so I wasn't in the best shape.
Anyway, I shove, he calls with QQ and day 2 is over.
I'm annoyed about this happening 2 days in a row, plus it just happens to be about 105 in Vegas, so by the time I get back to Gold Coast I'm covered in sweat, starving, and still a bit grumpy. I remember that there's an asian place in our hotel that seemed to understand the gluten-free thing. The day before we had lunch there and talked to the manager who made sure nothing we had contained soy sauce. Great. I know they have a fried tofu appetizer, so I think perfect. I clarify with the guy that I'm allergic to soy sauce, wheat etc, he says it's just tofu fried in oil with garlic. Ok. I get it and eat five or six before I get enough blood back in my head to realize that this shit tastes way too good to not be breaded. Great. Now I'm glutened for three days or more. I don't react well to this information, but eventually I move on.
The good news about busting out early is that we can go see Don Rickles, who's playing at the Orleans. I'd been wanting to see Rickles for a few years, ever since I saw his documentary "Mr. Warmth" and I especially thought it would be cool to see him in Vegas, which seemed most appropriate. I also figured I'd better take whatever chance I could. He has to be 90 - it's amazing he's still performing! Obviously, I hadn't seen him before, but he was SHARP and absolutely hysterical. A performer in his opening act says that her parents are there for their 50th wedding anniversary. The parents had come to Vegas and seen Rickles on their first wedding anniversary in 1961. I shit you not. Crazy.
Anyway, we had a great dinner at Orleans at - a different asian place where our waiter knew all about the gluten thing and treated us great. Then Rickles was terrific. That's the trip report, not stop asking me.
:P
Friday, May 28, 2010
Prepping for Vegas & WSOP (yay)
Welp, WSOP is upon us again. Today is the official beginning. Like last year, I'm planning on playing in at least one event. This year it's another $1,500 no limit event, a 3-day event beginning next Friday, June 4 (Event #11). Hopefully, I'll play as well as I did last year. Better still, I hope I'll run better! (See last year's blog for my trip report).
This year, unlike last, I'm making a concerted effort to get into the Main Event. I've always put the idea off because I didn't feel ready to push through the qualifying rounds. This year I'm doing just that, and making progress, though I still don't have a seat. Lots of time, though.
To prepare for WSOP, I'm playing in a live tournament at the Bike tomorrow night. It's the main event of a little deep stack series that the Bike has had going this week. Just a $215 but starts w/25,000 chips and 50/100 blinds, so 250 blinds deep at least for the first half hour. Should be a blast.
Then, Sunday afternoon, I'm playing in a $700 qualifier on Stars for the Main Event.
Whew, no rest for the wicked! I'm glad it's a long weekend so I can spend Monday zzzzz....
Rob out
This year, unlike last, I'm making a concerted effort to get into the Main Event. I've always put the idea off because I didn't feel ready to push through the qualifying rounds. This year I'm doing just that, and making progress, though I still don't have a seat. Lots of time, though.
To prepare for WSOP, I'm playing in a live tournament at the Bike tomorrow night. It's the main event of a little deep stack series that the Bike has had going this week. Just a $215 but starts w/25,000 chips and 50/100 blinds, so 250 blinds deep at least for the first half hour. Should be a blast.
Then, Sunday afternoon, I'm playing in a $700 qualifier on Stars for the Main Event.
Whew, no rest for the wicked! I'm glad it's a long weekend so I can spend Monday zzzzz....
Rob out
Friday, May 21, 2010
My Daily Meditation
The biggest reason I haven't written since March 9 is that I was sick for about a month thereafter. Two sets of antibiotics didn't fix it. Neither did steroids, lots of sleep, or just about anything else. It eventually went away on its own, though I suspect it may have been allergy-related.
Although it was a rough time, my being sick ultimately did me a service, however.
Being sick disrupted my daily routine significantly. While before I'd been exercising 4 days a week before work and occasionally meditating, all that stopped. I stopped drinking caffeine entirely, also, as that made me feel much worse for some reason I have yet to determine. In short, my life and routine were turned upside-down.
At first, I thought this was wholly a bad thing. As it turns out, having separation from my routine gave me a perspective on it that was, at least for me, impossible while in the midst of it. I made certain resolutions.
First, I cut my coffee consumption in half. Understand, I love my coffee. I roast my own and thrive on the flavor it provides. I don't ever want to give it up. That said, my past habit of having a few cups in the morning and a few in the afternoon wasn't doing great things for my stomach. Now I have it in the morning and green tea, if necessary, around 2pm. I'm confident it's already improved my gut and my sleep patterns.
Second, and even more critical, I resolved that I would get serious about two of the most important activities in good health: exercise and meditation. Where before, I would exercise 4 times a week, usually Monday-Thursday- I'd slack off on the weekend and Friday, making excuses. I resolved that, from now on, I would exercise every single day and not accept my own excuses.
That was over a month ago. So far I've managed all but two days. With exercise, I have a little leeway, because there are going to be situations in which it's not practical (when traveling) or not necessarily wise (when sick or really really sleep-deprived). I've also increased the time that I exercise. As you can imagine, I feel fabulous.
I made the same resolution with meditation, but this one was ironclad. Even when I'm sick or tired, I can still meditate. I can even do it easily - and nearly anywhere - by putting my meditation on my Ipod and my phone. So far I haven't missed a day. It's only 20 minutes a day, but I honestly believe that it's the single best thing I've done for my health - well, ever, even including all of the above.
Here are the benefits I've experienced from daily meditation only 45 or so days in:
1) Daily distance from external stimuli.
I cannot fairly state how inundated we all are in modern society. I can only tell you that I wasn't consciously aware of the breadth of external input until I made myself pull the plug for twenty minutes a day. Now I have a guaranteed twenty minutes of silence daily. Getting unplugged from the stimuli grid has helped my mind relax, made me feel more creative, centered and in touch with both my body and deeper self. If I don't have a way to get this silence, I never give myself a chance to catch my breath, my thoughts spiral out of control, and before I know it, I've slept-walked through another day, month, year, with no real plan or control over my own destiny.
2) True rest.
Not even sleep gives you a real break from this stimuli, since dreaming can be as active as waking and the mind can race ever faster. How many times have you awoken in the midst of a dream and felt more tired for having slept? I'm not suggesting sleep isn't important - in fact, it's absolutely critical - but meditation gives you something that sleep doesn't. Perhaps more importantly, still, meditation augments and enhances sleep. This is because taking twenty minutes a day to calm your mind takes the pressure off your unconscious which does all the heavy lifting while asleep. Meditate and sleep better. Really.
Not only that, but conscious and intentional muscle relaxation relieves physical and mental stress in a real and dramatic fashion. Focus on the body is a prerequisite to deep relaxation, and meditation helps you focus, not just on the body, but in general, and in a more highly concentrated way than otherwise, at least for me.
3) Being awake.
Meditation doesn't just help you to sleep better, relieve stress, and detach from the madness of daily life - it also helps you significantly DURING daily life through practice of the skill of mindfulness.
Mindfulness is simply the idea of holding your attention on the present moment. Some people call this "being comfortable in your own skin," other people call this "being in the moment." It's a mistake to assume this is a philosophy that has to inform every waking moment, but the ability to focus on the present, turn off the thought bullet train and become embodied has numerous benefits. The most significant one for me is that I am able to catch myself getting upset or emotional many moments before it actually happens. I have an enhanced ability to prevent myself from losing control because I am more conscious of myself and of my mind. At the same time, mindfulness helps you become more aware of your body, and as a consequence, notice sooner when you are doing something harmful to it - whether it's something as simple as sitting in a bad posture, or as all-encompassing as a bad diet or sleep pattern.
All this from twenty minutes a day of effort.
Believe me, you CAN and SHOULD make time. It doesn't really matter that you choose a specific school of meditation, but rather that you find something that works for you and that you DO IT. Remember, daily commitments are easy when you are excited about them. Doing them when excited is barely significant. Doing them when you don't feel like doing them at all is when you WIN and is what progress is really all about.
I hope you give it a try.
Rob
Although it was a rough time, my being sick ultimately did me a service, however.
Being sick disrupted my daily routine significantly. While before I'd been exercising 4 days a week before work and occasionally meditating, all that stopped. I stopped drinking caffeine entirely, also, as that made me feel much worse for some reason I have yet to determine. In short, my life and routine were turned upside-down.
At first, I thought this was wholly a bad thing. As it turns out, having separation from my routine gave me a perspective on it that was, at least for me, impossible while in the midst of it. I made certain resolutions.
First, I cut my coffee consumption in half. Understand, I love my coffee. I roast my own and thrive on the flavor it provides. I don't ever want to give it up. That said, my past habit of having a few cups in the morning and a few in the afternoon wasn't doing great things for my stomach. Now I have it in the morning and green tea, if necessary, around 2pm. I'm confident it's already improved my gut and my sleep patterns.
Second, and even more critical, I resolved that I would get serious about two of the most important activities in good health: exercise and meditation. Where before, I would exercise 4 times a week, usually Monday-Thursday- I'd slack off on the weekend and Friday, making excuses. I resolved that, from now on, I would exercise every single day and not accept my own excuses.
That was over a month ago. So far I've managed all but two days. With exercise, I have a little leeway, because there are going to be situations in which it's not practical (when traveling) or not necessarily wise (when sick or really really sleep-deprived). I've also increased the time that I exercise. As you can imagine, I feel fabulous.
I made the same resolution with meditation, but this one was ironclad. Even when I'm sick or tired, I can still meditate. I can even do it easily - and nearly anywhere - by putting my meditation on my Ipod and my phone. So far I haven't missed a day. It's only 20 minutes a day, but I honestly believe that it's the single best thing I've done for my health - well, ever, even including all of the above.
Here are the benefits I've experienced from daily meditation only 45 or so days in:
1) Daily distance from external stimuli.
I cannot fairly state how inundated we all are in modern society. I can only tell you that I wasn't consciously aware of the breadth of external input until I made myself pull the plug for twenty minutes a day. Now I have a guaranteed twenty minutes of silence daily. Getting unplugged from the stimuli grid has helped my mind relax, made me feel more creative, centered and in touch with both my body and deeper self. If I don't have a way to get this silence, I never give myself a chance to catch my breath, my thoughts spiral out of control, and before I know it, I've slept-walked through another day, month, year, with no real plan or control over my own destiny.
2) True rest.
Not even sleep gives you a real break from this stimuli, since dreaming can be as active as waking and the mind can race ever faster. How many times have you awoken in the midst of a dream and felt more tired for having slept? I'm not suggesting sleep isn't important - in fact, it's absolutely critical - but meditation gives you something that sleep doesn't. Perhaps more importantly, still, meditation augments and enhances sleep. This is because taking twenty minutes a day to calm your mind takes the pressure off your unconscious which does all the heavy lifting while asleep. Meditate and sleep better. Really.
Not only that, but conscious and intentional muscle relaxation relieves physical and mental stress in a real and dramatic fashion. Focus on the body is a prerequisite to deep relaxation, and meditation helps you focus, not just on the body, but in general, and in a more highly concentrated way than otherwise, at least for me.
3) Being awake.
Meditation doesn't just help you to sleep better, relieve stress, and detach from the madness of daily life - it also helps you significantly DURING daily life through practice of the skill of mindfulness.
Mindfulness is simply the idea of holding your attention on the present moment. Some people call this "being comfortable in your own skin," other people call this "being in the moment." It's a mistake to assume this is a philosophy that has to inform every waking moment, but the ability to focus on the present, turn off the thought bullet train and become embodied has numerous benefits. The most significant one for me is that I am able to catch myself getting upset or emotional many moments before it actually happens. I have an enhanced ability to prevent myself from losing control because I am more conscious of myself and of my mind. At the same time, mindfulness helps you become more aware of your body, and as a consequence, notice sooner when you are doing something harmful to it - whether it's something as simple as sitting in a bad posture, or as all-encompassing as a bad diet or sleep pattern.
All this from twenty minutes a day of effort.
Believe me, you CAN and SHOULD make time. It doesn't really matter that you choose a specific school of meditation, but rather that you find something that works for you and that you DO IT. Remember, daily commitments are easy when you are excited about them. Doing them when excited is barely significant. Doing them when you don't feel like doing them at all is when you WIN and is what progress is really all about.
I hope you give it a try.
Rob
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
What do you call it when Apu from the Simpsons beats his wife?
Apbuse.
What do you call it when a Canadian man beats his wife?
Amoose.
What do you call it when the Kool Aid Man beats his wife?
Ajuice.
What do you call it when Kevin Bacon beats his wife?
Afootloose.
What do you call it when a massive, muscled football player beats his wife?
Domestic Violence! What's wrong with you, joking about wifebeating?
What do you call it when a Canadian man beats his wife?
Amoose.
What do you call it when the Kool Aid Man beats his wife?
Ajuice.
What do you call it when Kevin Bacon beats his wife?
Afootloose.
What do you call it when a massive, muscled football player beats his wife?
Domestic Violence! What's wrong with you, joking about wifebeating?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
The Kissing Kitty Bandit
I have a cat who kisses like a person.
I'm not talking about a simple lip licking that looks like a kiss from the outside, though she does that too.
I'm talking full-on people kiss. Cock-your-head sideways, close your eyes, lean in and plant one directly on your lips kiss. I swear I am not making this up!
I have no idea how she learned to do this. I'm far from a lothario! I was single and dating a bit when I first got her, and I can only assume it has something to do with that. It's not like she was doing it the second I got her, she just started one day, and I have no idea why.
It turns out to be her idea of how to greet people now. She routinely tries to climb on strangers and plant one on their lips. It's tough to explain as you can imagine. I remember her climbing all over my friend Jimmy when I lived in Oakland and leaning in to his utter confusion.
So no matter what she does, even when she's bad, it's hard to get too mad at her, because she'll just walk up to you lean in and give you a peck while purring. Sometimes, if she's real excited, you'll get tongue too. Gross, but cute.
I've never seen another cat do this. My girl Rewind is certainly one-of-a-kind for a lot of reasons, but this is high on the list.
I'm not talking about a simple lip licking that looks like a kiss from the outside, though she does that too.
I'm talking full-on people kiss. Cock-your-head sideways, close your eyes, lean in and plant one directly on your lips kiss. I swear I am not making this up!
I have no idea how she learned to do this. I'm far from a lothario! I was single and dating a bit when I first got her, and I can only assume it has something to do with that. It's not like she was doing it the second I got her, she just started one day, and I have no idea why.
It turns out to be her idea of how to greet people now. She routinely tries to climb on strangers and plant one on their lips. It's tough to explain as you can imagine. I remember her climbing all over my friend Jimmy when I lived in Oakland and leaning in to his utter confusion.
So no matter what she does, even when she's bad, it's hard to get too mad at her, because she'll just walk up to you lean in and give you a peck while purring. Sometimes, if she's real excited, you'll get tongue too. Gross, but cute.
I've never seen another cat do this. My girl Rewind is certainly one-of-a-kind for a lot of reasons, but this is high on the list.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Why (500) Days of Summer is seriously overrated
OK, let me start out by saying that I really wanted to like this movie.
I hate romantic comedies. HATE them. My ex loved them and made me sit through some horrible horrible shit. By contrast, when I first saw a commercial for a romantic comedy with Janessa, and she said it looked awful and that she hated romantic comedies too, it was such a relief that I almost proposed on the spot.
So my initial reaction to this movie's commercials was, predictably, negative, even though it starred one of the hollywood stars I most want to make babies with. This fact alone wouldn't be close enough of a reason to see a flick anyway. Janessa joked that it would, but I pointed out that Zooey had been in the awful-looking "Yes Man" and I hadn't even joked about seeing it.
So why the change of heart? Well, I read lots of good reviews, heard good buzz, and regularly heard people insist that it was not a romantic comedy. So we figured, what the hell, maybe this will really be a decent film. And they were right - in part - it isn't a romantic comedy. It's about a relationship that doesn't work out. It also wasn't unwatchable by any means. The acting was good and the story was pretty interesting. Ironically, the fact that the movie had potential is what made its shortcomings so much more frustrating.
I'm not a movie reviewer, so I'm not going to spend time summarizing the plot. So...Spoiler Alert... you've been warned:
1. The (500) thing is a pretty reasonable idea. The movie timeshifts around showing scenes at different points in the leads' relationship, mainly for purposes of contrast. It does this fairly well, and it wasn't hard to follow. So points there. But I still have NO idea why the 500 is in parenthesis. No clue. It was never explained and I'm left with the impression that it's just a pretentious touch. This idea is reinforced by how many more pretentious touches are in this film.
2. Despite the fact that the main character was obsessed with Zooey (and I am too, so I can understand, to some extent) - the film's characterization of Zooey was vapid and minimal. We got little to no insight as to why she felt the way she did about either the main character or about relationships in general. One bar scene where she says she doesn't like relationships and likes to "be free" does not a character make. Given that the main character repeatedly insists that she is the love of his life, this lack of characterization is appalling and seriously hurts the film.
3. The lead is extremely self-centered. I suspect the lead is based on the author of the screenplay, because I didn't get even a hint of irony about his focus. One of the most egregious examples involves his job as a writer of greeting cards. This is a weird job for him to have for several reasons, but I'll get back to that. Suffice it to say, the lead has his moment where he realizes that his job is lame and that he should be doing something better with his life. This is fine, in principle. I doubt anyone dreams of growing up and writing greeting cards. But this revelation is not the problem, it's how he deals with it.
Instead of just putting in his notice, he makes a dramatic show of how horrible the job is in front of all of his co-workers. At a meeting he goes off on a huge rave about how meaningless the job is and why anyone who does it, is, basically, an idiot. This is an incredibly immature, selfish move, whether he's right or not. It's disrespectful to everyone else who works at this place and completely without justification. Now, if the author had intended to make this point about his protagonist, it would have been one thing, but I think it's pretty clear from the scene that the author is basically speaking as the character - that he probably had such a job but never said these types of things to his co workers.
I think this is especially likely because the lead in this movie is, inexplicably, supposed to be an architect. This thought is given little to no explanation other than a few shots of the guy sketching pictures of skyscrapers - something I wasn't aware architects were particularly none for. Obviously, the main character is based on the writer, who was working for a greeting card company so that he could eventually write more substantive material. That part makes sense. Why a putative architect, on the other hand, would seek employment as a writer, is not only illogical, but entirely unexplained.
4. Despite not technically being a "romantic comedy," the movie is trite and cliche about its ideas regarding love in the extreme. We are shown the main pussy - er character - as a child, watching presentations of idealized love and, presumably, believing them. I understand that little girls may buy this crap, but little boys? And even little girls eventually realize, well most of them, that the true-love-destiny-prince-princess tripe is purely a disney fantasy, at least by the time they are thirty. Not only does this guy seem to think this stuff is real (he even engages in a fanciful full production dance number when he finally gets with Zooey... a cute sequence, but pretty gimmicky, to say the least) but the author seems to agree. Which brings us to #5.
5. If this film had presented the main character as a clueless douchebag who ultimately changes and learns that women are people, not idealized fantasy creatures, and that destiny is a childish (and I suppose Calvinist) conception, I would have been able to excuse much of the above. The message could have been, hey, life isn't that simple, this chick wasn't for you, move on and try to start a mature relationship. I could have lived with that. Instead, the end is the biggest cop-out in the movie by far. I am not exaggerating when I say it made me want to wretch.
In the final scene of the film, the lead is seen waiting to enter an office for a job interview, presumably as an architect. Waiting with him in the lobby is Minka Kelly, the insanely hot Lyla Garrity from Friday Night Lights. Guess what, she has an interview too. Oops, they are in competition! At the last moment before going into the interview, lead boy nuts up and decides to ask Minka out. The last line in the movie is that her name is... wait for it... Autumn.
Wow. Can it get any more heavy handed then that? Was winter waiting outside to give him a blowjob? Was spring the person interviewing him? Autumn is the next phase in his life, I get it, but there are sooo many problems with this lame ending. First, who the hell names their kid Autumn? NOBODY. I halfway thought her last name was going to be "Equinox." Summer is a girl's name and I thought its use was reasonably clever, but Autumn is just a heavy-handed way for the author to smack you in the face with an unnatural, undeserved "happy ending."
What's worse, the ending implies that the author was right all along. True love is out there, it just wasn't with Zooey, but the very next girl, absolutely. The moral of the story? I have absolutely no idea. Serial monogamy is good? I'm clueless.
In the end this movie was even more disappointing than the lead guy's not finding love with Zooey. Self-absorbed cliched nonsense - a romantic comedy, in other words - pretending to be something more. To me, that's much worse than your latest Kate Hudson-Matthew McChesty vehicle. At least there, I know what I'm getting. In the immortal words of the late Judge Judy, don't piss on my leg and tell me that it's sprinkling...
I hate romantic comedies. HATE them. My ex loved them and made me sit through some horrible horrible shit. By contrast, when I first saw a commercial for a romantic comedy with Janessa, and she said it looked awful and that she hated romantic comedies too, it was such a relief that I almost proposed on the spot.
So my initial reaction to this movie's commercials was, predictably, negative, even though it starred one of the hollywood stars I most want to make babies with. This fact alone wouldn't be close enough of a reason to see a flick anyway. Janessa joked that it would, but I pointed out that Zooey had been in the awful-looking "Yes Man" and I hadn't even joked about seeing it.
So why the change of heart? Well, I read lots of good reviews, heard good buzz, and regularly heard people insist that it was not a romantic comedy. So we figured, what the hell, maybe this will really be a decent film. And they were right - in part - it isn't a romantic comedy. It's about a relationship that doesn't work out. It also wasn't unwatchable by any means. The acting was good and the story was pretty interesting. Ironically, the fact that the movie had potential is what made its shortcomings so much more frustrating.
I'm not a movie reviewer, so I'm not going to spend time summarizing the plot. So...Spoiler Alert... you've been warned:
1. The (500) thing is a pretty reasonable idea. The movie timeshifts around showing scenes at different points in the leads' relationship, mainly for purposes of contrast. It does this fairly well, and it wasn't hard to follow. So points there. But I still have NO idea why the 500 is in parenthesis. No clue. It was never explained and I'm left with the impression that it's just a pretentious touch. This idea is reinforced by how many more pretentious touches are in this film.
2. Despite the fact that the main character was obsessed with Zooey (and I am too, so I can understand, to some extent) - the film's characterization of Zooey was vapid and minimal. We got little to no insight as to why she felt the way she did about either the main character or about relationships in general. One bar scene where she says she doesn't like relationships and likes to "be free" does not a character make. Given that the main character repeatedly insists that she is the love of his life, this lack of characterization is appalling and seriously hurts the film.
3. The lead is extremely self-centered. I suspect the lead is based on the author of the screenplay, because I didn't get even a hint of irony about his focus. One of the most egregious examples involves his job as a writer of greeting cards. This is a weird job for him to have for several reasons, but I'll get back to that. Suffice it to say, the lead has his moment where he realizes that his job is lame and that he should be doing something better with his life. This is fine, in principle. I doubt anyone dreams of growing up and writing greeting cards. But this revelation is not the problem, it's how he deals with it.
Instead of just putting in his notice, he makes a dramatic show of how horrible the job is in front of all of his co-workers. At a meeting he goes off on a huge rave about how meaningless the job is and why anyone who does it, is, basically, an idiot. This is an incredibly immature, selfish move, whether he's right or not. It's disrespectful to everyone else who works at this place and completely without justification. Now, if the author had intended to make this point about his protagonist, it would have been one thing, but I think it's pretty clear from the scene that the author is basically speaking as the character - that he probably had such a job but never said these types of things to his co workers.
I think this is especially likely because the lead in this movie is, inexplicably, supposed to be an architect. This thought is given little to no explanation other than a few shots of the guy sketching pictures of skyscrapers - something I wasn't aware architects were particularly none for. Obviously, the main character is based on the writer, who was working for a greeting card company so that he could eventually write more substantive material. That part makes sense. Why a putative architect, on the other hand, would seek employment as a writer, is not only illogical, but entirely unexplained.
4. Despite not technically being a "romantic comedy," the movie is trite and cliche about its ideas regarding love in the extreme. We are shown the main pussy - er character - as a child, watching presentations of idealized love and, presumably, believing them. I understand that little girls may buy this crap, but little boys? And even little girls eventually realize, well most of them, that the true-love-destiny-prince-princess tripe is purely a disney fantasy, at least by the time they are thirty. Not only does this guy seem to think this stuff is real (he even engages in a fanciful full production dance number when he finally gets with Zooey... a cute sequence, but pretty gimmicky, to say the least) but the author seems to agree. Which brings us to #5.
5. If this film had presented the main character as a clueless douchebag who ultimately changes and learns that women are people, not idealized fantasy creatures, and that destiny is a childish (and I suppose Calvinist) conception, I would have been able to excuse much of the above. The message could have been, hey, life isn't that simple, this chick wasn't for you, move on and try to start a mature relationship. I could have lived with that. Instead, the end is the biggest cop-out in the movie by far. I am not exaggerating when I say it made me want to wretch.
In the final scene of the film, the lead is seen waiting to enter an office for a job interview, presumably as an architect. Waiting with him in the lobby is Minka Kelly, the insanely hot Lyla Garrity from Friday Night Lights. Guess what, she has an interview too. Oops, they are in competition! At the last moment before going into the interview, lead boy nuts up and decides to ask Minka out. The last line in the movie is that her name is... wait for it... Autumn.
Wow. Can it get any more heavy handed then that? Was winter waiting outside to give him a blowjob? Was spring the person interviewing him? Autumn is the next phase in his life, I get it, but there are sooo many problems with this lame ending. First, who the hell names their kid Autumn? NOBODY. I halfway thought her last name was going to be "Equinox." Summer is a girl's name and I thought its use was reasonably clever, but Autumn is just a heavy-handed way for the author to smack you in the face with an unnatural, undeserved "happy ending."
What's worse, the ending implies that the author was right all along. True love is out there, it just wasn't with Zooey, but the very next girl, absolutely. The moral of the story? I have absolutely no idea. Serial monogamy is good? I'm clueless.
In the end this movie was even more disappointing than the lead guy's not finding love with Zooey. Self-absorbed cliched nonsense - a romantic comedy, in other words - pretending to be something more. To me, that's much worse than your latest Kate Hudson-Matthew McChesty vehicle. At least there, I know what I'm getting. In the immortal words of the late Judge Judy, don't piss on my leg and tell me that it's sprinkling...
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Costa Rica Honeymoon Wrapup Blog
Hello friends!
Janessa and I have just returned from our week-long honeymoon in Costa Rica and are almost back in the swing of things. In the interest of sanity, I thought I'd write a nice long blog trip report for anyone to reference and save me telling the same stories 20x :)
We flew out at 12:45am Thanksgiving Morning from LAX. One stop in San Salvador then a plane change to fly to San Jose, Costa Rica, onto a local commuter flight to Quepos, right outside where we were staying, at San Manuel Antonio National Park. Oddly, we had to wait two hours or so for the commuter - a 20 min flight in a rickety old lil plane. Still, much faster than the 4.5 hour drive would have been.
Delirious and dying for showers and sleep, we finally arrived at our first hotel, Arenas Del Mar. This place was faaaantastic, PARADISE, amazing view of the beach from our suite's balcony (and the jacuzzi on said balcony), the place was insanely ecofriendly (solar panels, gave us biodegradable water bottles to keep so we wouldn't use regular bottles, and oh yea, despite being surrounded by forest, it was obvious their environmental impact was minimal). The service as this place was first rate. The people were incredibly warm, friendly and accomodating. I wrote a review of the hotel which you can look at on TripAdvisor here. Suffice it to say, despite Janessa's extensive food allergies and my own allergy to gluten, we didn't get even a little sick once. The chef spoke with us personally at nearly every meal and made sure everything we ate was safe (and delicious!)
We set our trip up through a tourist group called "Costa Rica Expeditions." They built us an itinerary of things to do over our short 7-day trip. We eliminated most of them as we wanted to spend a lot of the trip resting. Travel is exhausting enough without 12 hour tour days. Janessa and I hadn't had a real vacation in years, so we wanted to mainly relax.
The first day we went snorkeling in the ocean and saw tons of beautiful tropical fishes. This was in the morning and a lot of fun. We were done by 1pm - in time to enjoy a relaxing lunch at the hotel snack bar next to the beach and kill a few hours before we both went to the spa. I got a 60 minute hot stone massage, which I'd never had done before. It was good for my back and quite relaxing. Janessa got a scrub/wrap treatment that left her skin very soft and made her happy. Great first day.
Day two, early morning, we went on a tour of San Manuel Antonio park. There we saw many exotic animals and insects including white-faced monkeys, beautiful butterflies (they are everywhere), and lots of sloth - fitting for our mission on this trip! The park features some of the most amazing beaches in the world as well as all of the wild-life, so we had a lovely time. In the afternoon...you guessed it, lunch at the snack bar and really nothing much else but re-lax-ation. Beautiful.
Day three was a travel day. We checked out of our hotel in the morning to take a long car trip back to the San Jose area. Since I'd wanted to try zip-lining, we set up an aerial tram/zip-line thing at a place which was conveniently located almost equidistant between San Manuel and Hotel #2. Janessa was a little nervous, but once we got going, she had a great time. We were wayyy up in the canopy of the rain forest and had breathtaking views that I'm sure we wouldn't have gotten had we just stuck with the slow tram(which is kinda like the aerial trams at Disneyworld, if you're familiar with those). The day we went there were three cruise ships full of people filling up the place, so it was jammed - but all with retirees. Suffice it to say, we were the only people zip-lining and people thought we were crazy! (One lady yelled out to me "does your mother know you're doing this?") Skydiving is a LOT crazier, so this was a piece of cake.
Our guides for the day were with Costa Rica Expeditions and were great to us. One named Max, barely spoke english, but was amiable. He waited in the car during the zip-line. The other went zip-lining with us! I wish I could remember his name, he was a very cool guy. After the zip-line we had a nice lunch and long conversation with him. He'd traveled to many places in the US and all over the world and had great stories to tell. His job is basically traveling with tourists, helping them out, but also doing what they do - be it eating with them or going on the tour they go on. Not a bad deal!
After a long ride up to our next hotel, Finca Rosa Blanca (check the link!), we got settled in the dark. Our initial reception was not great. It was confusing, dark, and the reception chick was awful and completely useless to us. Admittedly, our first impression of the place was pretty grim. Once we checked out our room, we warmed a bit. We stayed in the master suite of the hotel, the best room, the Rosa Blanca Suite, a sprawling two story suite featuring an amazing tub (click the link for some pictures) and a winding staircase. The view from the mountains was breathtaking, we could see for miles. Not too bad.
Our next encounter with the staff was a very good one. The food service at this hotel was just as accommodating to us and our allergies as Arena Del Mar. The food was also - simply put, amazing. The chef quickly became our favorite person on this trip. His name is Rodrigo, and he is a rotund short man with glasses and a constant smile on his face. Jolly is the best word to describe him. He was lovely to us while at the same time a goofball. At the same time, every single thing he made was amazing, even after conforming to our restrictions. Janessa and I loved this guy and made sure the property owner knew it... great job
Our first full day Finca Rosa Blanca was great. Finca Rosa Blanca is adjacent to a coffee plantation owned by the property. We took a tour of the plantation - great timing as it was harvest season, so the coffee cherries were ripe - and were taken through the whole process from picking to processing. As a coffee lover, this was heaven for me, but Janessa loved the story too. That's at least in part because the farm was organic and sustainable, and we got to hear all the measures they'd put into place to prevent pests without using chemicals. Essentially, they plant trees more attractive to pests near the coffee, and do other similar things to great a synergistic environment where the coffee thrives. Awesome stuff, really.
At the end we did a coffee cupping. For those of you not familiar, it's similar to a wine tasting, but a bit more specialized. The idea is to compare cups of coffee objectively through intense palate analysis. Our great guide Leo explained to us the qualities of coffee on particular parts of the tongue, while we loudly slurped samples from a spoon and attempted to verbalize the smells and flavors we were experiencing. Janessa doesn't like coffee, so she didn't drink much of it, but I know we both enjoyed the palate stuff. The wife and I have become very interested in the sense of taste, through wine, cheese, chocolate, coffee, and other things, and are exploring it. But more on that in another blog!
The rest of the day was mellow. It was time for another spa day (what what!). This time, Janessa got the hot stone massage and I got the tiramisu which was a scented hot bath followed by
an "almond body exfoliation" after which you are "cocooned in amazing, warm and hydrating wrap" and given a facial. After that you clean off and get a full body massage. Sounds great, right?
Truthfully, it kinda sucked. The bath was great, but everything else was just weird weird weird. The dude "cocooned" me so tight I lost feeling in my pinky fingers on both hands which was very odd. Plus the "gentle" exfoliation hurt like crazy. It felt like the dude was trying to grind some cheese off my back! To top it off, for nearly the entire two hours the property's dogs barked like crazy, not just for a little bit, but loud as heck CONSTANTLY. Good luck relaxing through that.
Guess I'm not really a spa guy!
Anyway, Janessa loved her treatment so what can ya do.
The next day was our only full day tourist thingy. We went up early morning to go see an active volcano which was about a 2 hr drive away. We picked up a buncha people in a van in San Jose and trooped up there to Irazu. Unfortunately, it was so foggy up there we couldn't see anything. It was also freezing and windy and wet. Not the best time. But, all good, the rest of the day was nice. We saw a beautiful turn of the century catholic temple (right before mass started actually), an amazing botanical reserve with swweeet japanese tea gardens, lunched at a separate coffee plantation, and several other sites. Tiring, but a good time. The people in our group were really cool, all well-traveled and cosmopolitan. It worked out kinda interesting because they were from all-over. We were the only people from the US. Besides us, there was a couple from Lima, Peru, a gentleman from Slovakia, and a young man from Belgium. It made for fascinating lunch conversation.
The last day was to be mainly relaxing. Janessa only wanted to do one more thing - horseback riding. The hotel had that all set up internally so we went for that in the morning. This was the worst part of the whole trip. Despite our telling the guide that we had almost no experience riding horses, he put us on horses with almost no instruction then proceeded to take us over a ridiculously rough course - part of which was, according to him, "where they ride ATVs." I caught air like 20 times. It was insane. I messed up my back badly. Even worse I got a huge welt on my ass that is STILL THERE TWO WEEKS LATER (but mostly healed). Janessa had really bad bruises on her legs and couldn't even finish the ride. Shitty. But what can you do?
We wrapped up our day relaxing and enjoying ourselves. The next day we spent the morning at the hotel before heading to the airport. We took the time to thank Rodrigo and the awesome waitstaff, Louis and Andre and get some terrific pictures. We then toughed it out through the loooong trip home.
All in all, we had a fabulous time. A few shitty things happened, but not even close to enough to ruin the great things we saw, ate, time we spent together and general relaxation of it all. Now to look into that house in Costa Rica to retire to....
Janessa and I have just returned from our week-long honeymoon in Costa Rica and are almost back in the swing of things. In the interest of sanity, I thought I'd write a nice long blog trip report for anyone to reference and save me telling the same stories 20x :)
We flew out at 12:45am Thanksgiving Morning from LAX. One stop in San Salvador then a plane change to fly to San Jose, Costa Rica, onto a local commuter flight to Quepos, right outside where we were staying, at San Manuel Antonio National Park. Oddly, we had to wait two hours or so for the commuter - a 20 min flight in a rickety old lil plane. Still, much faster than the 4.5 hour drive would have been.
Delirious and dying for showers and sleep, we finally arrived at our first hotel, Arenas Del Mar. This place was faaaantastic, PARADISE, amazing view of the beach from our suite's balcony (and the jacuzzi on said balcony), the place was insanely ecofriendly (solar panels, gave us biodegradable water bottles to keep so we wouldn't use regular bottles, and oh yea, despite being surrounded by forest, it was obvious their environmental impact was minimal). The service as this place was first rate. The people were incredibly warm, friendly and accomodating. I wrote a review of the hotel which you can look at on TripAdvisor here. Suffice it to say, despite Janessa's extensive food allergies and my own allergy to gluten, we didn't get even a little sick once. The chef spoke with us personally at nearly every meal and made sure everything we ate was safe (and delicious!)
We set our trip up through a tourist group called "Costa Rica Expeditions." They built us an itinerary of things to do over our short 7-day trip. We eliminated most of them as we wanted to spend a lot of the trip resting. Travel is exhausting enough without 12 hour tour days. Janessa and I hadn't had a real vacation in years, so we wanted to mainly relax.
The first day we went snorkeling in the ocean and saw tons of beautiful tropical fishes. This was in the morning and a lot of fun. We were done by 1pm - in time to enjoy a relaxing lunch at the hotel snack bar next to the beach and kill a few hours before we both went to the spa. I got a 60 minute hot stone massage, which I'd never had done before. It was good for my back and quite relaxing. Janessa got a scrub/wrap treatment that left her skin very soft and made her happy. Great first day.
Day two, early morning, we went on a tour of San Manuel Antonio park. There we saw many exotic animals and insects including white-faced monkeys, beautiful butterflies (they are everywhere), and lots of sloth - fitting for our mission on this trip! The park features some of the most amazing beaches in the world as well as all of the wild-life, so we had a lovely time. In the afternoon...you guessed it, lunch at the snack bar and really nothing much else but re-lax-ation. Beautiful.
Day three was a travel day. We checked out of our hotel in the morning to take a long car trip back to the San Jose area. Since I'd wanted to try zip-lining, we set up an aerial tram/zip-line thing at a place which was conveniently located almost equidistant between San Manuel and Hotel #2. Janessa was a little nervous, but once we got going, she had a great time. We were wayyy up in the canopy of the rain forest and had breathtaking views that I'm sure we wouldn't have gotten had we just stuck with the slow tram(which is kinda like the aerial trams at Disneyworld, if you're familiar with those). The day we went there were three cruise ships full of people filling up the place, so it was jammed - but all with retirees. Suffice it to say, we were the only people zip-lining and people thought we were crazy! (One lady yelled out to me "does your mother know you're doing this?") Skydiving is a LOT crazier, so this was a piece of cake.
Our guides for the day were with Costa Rica Expeditions and were great to us. One named Max, barely spoke english, but was amiable. He waited in the car during the zip-line. The other went zip-lining with us! I wish I could remember his name, he was a very cool guy. After the zip-line we had a nice lunch and long conversation with him. He'd traveled to many places in the US and all over the world and had great stories to tell. His job is basically traveling with tourists, helping them out, but also doing what they do - be it eating with them or going on the tour they go on. Not a bad deal!
After a long ride up to our next hotel, Finca Rosa Blanca (check the link!), we got settled in the dark. Our initial reception was not great. It was confusing, dark, and the reception chick was awful and completely useless to us. Admittedly, our first impression of the place was pretty grim. Once we checked out our room, we warmed a bit. We stayed in the master suite of the hotel, the best room, the Rosa Blanca Suite, a sprawling two story suite featuring an amazing tub (click the link for some pictures) and a winding staircase. The view from the mountains was breathtaking, we could see for miles. Not too bad.
Our next encounter with the staff was a very good one. The food service at this hotel was just as accommodating to us and our allergies as Arena Del Mar. The food was also - simply put, amazing. The chef quickly became our favorite person on this trip. His name is Rodrigo, and he is a rotund short man with glasses and a constant smile on his face. Jolly is the best word to describe him. He was lovely to us while at the same time a goofball. At the same time, every single thing he made was amazing, even after conforming to our restrictions. Janessa and I loved this guy and made sure the property owner knew it... great job
Our first full day Finca Rosa Blanca was great. Finca Rosa Blanca is adjacent to a coffee plantation owned by the property. We took a tour of the plantation - great timing as it was harvest season, so the coffee cherries were ripe - and were taken through the whole process from picking to processing. As a coffee lover, this was heaven for me, but Janessa loved the story too. That's at least in part because the farm was organic and sustainable, and we got to hear all the measures they'd put into place to prevent pests without using chemicals. Essentially, they plant trees more attractive to pests near the coffee, and do other similar things to great a synergistic environment where the coffee thrives. Awesome stuff, really.
At the end we did a coffee cupping. For those of you not familiar, it's similar to a wine tasting, but a bit more specialized. The idea is to compare cups of coffee objectively through intense palate analysis. Our great guide Leo explained to us the qualities of coffee on particular parts of the tongue, while we loudly slurped samples from a spoon and attempted to verbalize the smells and flavors we were experiencing. Janessa doesn't like coffee, so she didn't drink much of it, but I know we both enjoyed the palate stuff. The wife and I have become very interested in the sense of taste, through wine, cheese, chocolate, coffee, and other things, and are exploring it. But more on that in another blog!
The rest of the day was mellow. It was time for another spa day (what what!). This time, Janessa got the hot stone massage and I got the tiramisu which was a scented hot bath followed by
an "almond body exfoliation" after which you are "cocooned in amazing, warm and hydrating wrap" and given a facial. After that you clean off and get a full body massage. Sounds great, right?
Truthfully, it kinda sucked. The bath was great, but everything else was just weird weird weird. The dude "cocooned" me so tight I lost feeling in my pinky fingers on both hands which was very odd. Plus the "gentle" exfoliation hurt like crazy. It felt like the dude was trying to grind some cheese off my back! To top it off, for nearly the entire two hours the property's dogs barked like crazy, not just for a little bit, but loud as heck CONSTANTLY. Good luck relaxing through that.
Guess I'm not really a spa guy!
Anyway, Janessa loved her treatment so what can ya do.
The next day was our only full day tourist thingy. We went up early morning to go see an active volcano which was about a 2 hr drive away. We picked up a buncha people in a van in San Jose and trooped up there to Irazu. Unfortunately, it was so foggy up there we couldn't see anything. It was also freezing and windy and wet. Not the best time. But, all good, the rest of the day was nice. We saw a beautiful turn of the century catholic temple (right before mass started actually), an amazing botanical reserve with swweeet japanese tea gardens, lunched at a separate coffee plantation, and several other sites. Tiring, but a good time. The people in our group were really cool, all well-traveled and cosmopolitan. It worked out kinda interesting because they were from all-over. We were the only people from the US. Besides us, there was a couple from Lima, Peru, a gentleman from Slovakia, and a young man from Belgium. It made for fascinating lunch conversation.
The last day was to be mainly relaxing. Janessa only wanted to do one more thing - horseback riding. The hotel had that all set up internally so we went for that in the morning. This was the worst part of the whole trip. Despite our telling the guide that we had almost no experience riding horses, he put us on horses with almost no instruction then proceeded to take us over a ridiculously rough course - part of which was, according to him, "where they ride ATVs." I caught air like 20 times. It was insane. I messed up my back badly. Even worse I got a huge welt on my ass that is STILL THERE TWO WEEKS LATER (but mostly healed). Janessa had really bad bruises on her legs and couldn't even finish the ride. Shitty. But what can you do?
We wrapped up our day relaxing and enjoying ourselves. The next day we spent the morning at the hotel before heading to the airport. We took the time to thank Rodrigo and the awesome waitstaff, Louis and Andre and get some terrific pictures. We then toughed it out through the loooong trip home.
All in all, we had a fabulous time. A few shitty things happened, but not even close to enough to ruin the great things we saw, ate, time we spent together and general relaxation of it all. Now to look into that house in Costa Rica to retire to....
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