Baltimore Diary

Get Used to Disappointment, Kid

Mutt Williams: You know, for an old man you ain't bad in a fight. What are you, like 80?

—Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008)

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Wee One was invited to a birthday party this weekend. It was a big deal kind of event, where there were plans to go to some place in Pennsylvania and spend the night, and there would be swimming and all kinds of revelry for eight-year-olds. Not the kind of party I'd throw for kids, but it sounded like fun.

The bad news was, it was scheduled for this weekend, which is her weekend to be with The Sperm Donor her father. He wasn't going to waste any time going to Pennsylvania (he would have been welcome to come along), and that was the end of that. To make up for it, he got them a pair of tickets to the Orioles game scheduled for today. So they'd do whatever they were going to do Saturday night, spend Sunday at the ballpark and have a reasonably pleasant weekend, even if the party wasn't part of it.

He called on Saturday afternoon around noon to say that he was about to leave. We needed to go visit with GF's grandmother (who recently transferred to a nursing home from the congregate housing she was in previously), so we arranged to meet him there. Since his mother lives in the same complex, and it cuts his travel time by about a half hour, it's good all around. Wee One packed a set of clothes for the game, her Nintendo DS (naturally), and a couple of other doodads that almost-nine-year-olds can't live without.

In the nursing home, GF's phone rang and I answered it. It was SD her father. He was having car trouble. More accurately, he thought he might be having car trouble and decided it wasn't worth the risk. I made some commisserating noises and suggested that he talk to Wee One. I handed over the phone and of course there's all kinds of tears mixed with the almost-not-quite-kinda-sorta-maybe-meaning-it "That's OK"s and such. By now, GF's returned from wherever she'd been, so now we get to pick up the pieces. And how do we do this, you ask? By taking Wee One along on our date night.

Now, we'd pondered going to the May Birthday thing to celebrate with the local blogiverse, even though I'd be a Designated Driver (today's my last day on the Weapons-Grade Antibiotics), but I do have to draw a line with taking a kid into a situation where there's a bunch of grownups drinking, even if it's technically legal for that child to be there. (Pig Roast notwithstanding, ahem.) Plus, she's in third grade, when they start indoctrinating the kids into all that "Drinking is bad, mmmkay?" routine, so now we have a pint-size Carrie Nation on our hands. I hope all you guys had fun, anyway.

Instead, we decided we'd do one of those things I swear not to do: we went to the movies on a Saturday night. Not only did we go to the movies, we went to White Marsh. To see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. That's right. We went to that hellhole (as all movie theaters are on Saturday nights) to see one of the top films in the nation.

Without getting too spoilery, I'll say this: The movie clocks in at about two hours and five minutes, and the first hour and forty minutes are pretty good, It's about what you'd expect from the Indiana Jones franchise, even almost twenty years later, and despite Shia LeBeouf's performance. It's that last 20 minutes or so that gives you a little bit of "...the hell?" It was almost prophetic on my part to buy Reese's Pieces at the snack bar earlier in the evening.

We saw the 8:00 show and by the time we got home, everyone was pretty much ready for bed. And sometimes, that's how Date Night goes.

One Lives Up to Hype, One Doesn't

Xander Harris: You are looking at the new local distributor for Boost Bars. "The natural food bar that provides a nutritional energy boost for active, health-conscience people." Want one?
Willow Rosenberg: No. Thanks. Those things usually taste... kind of tasteless. And then leave a bad after-tastelessness.

—Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "The I in Team" (2/8/00)

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A couple of nights ago, GF and I went with another couple for an evening of Dinner and a Movie. Dinner was at Pazo, down in the Fells Point area. Pazo took the City Paper's Best of Baltimore award in 2005 for Best New Restaurant, but frankly I think the writers were taken in by the décor, the overall trendiness of the place (where to be SEEN, baby!), and the Truly Hot Shit reputation of the owners.

Make no mistake; there's a lot to like about this place. I'm relatively new to the Tapas thing, but I definitely enjoyed everything we had, which included a kind of smoked ham with pears; veal & pork empanadas with salsa verde on the side; shrimp with garlic; a fried calamari dish; sautéed broccoli; and some potato croquettes.

We also ordered entrées. One thing that's cool about this place is that you can order half-portions of the entrées, if you've been picking at the tapas all evening, and we took this option. GF and the woman from the other couple (I'll call her S) both ordered something listed on the menu as Saffon "Gnocchi": one with the eggplant and the other with the lamb sauce. Unfortunately nobody really noticed the scare quotes around the word "Gnocchi" until it hit the table. S's "gnocchi" was underdone. Not so much that it was crunchy but enough that it still had that doughy taste. Between that and the fact that it wasn't actually gnocchi, she decided to send it back and order something else. Her alternate selection was a Bistek Catalonia, which is a "hanger" steak (skirt? I'm not familiar with that term) with a romescu sauce and tiny red potatoes. Medium rare, please.

Meanwhile, S's husband had ordered a Marcona Almond Crusted Merluza and I had a pork confit cannelloni. The Merluza (a white fish) wasn't bad but it was rather sparse-looking on the plate. Also, by the time it got to the table we wondered what the straw-colored food to one side was. We really couldn't identify it as either the wilted Swiss chard or the parsnip purée, so we're still at a loss.

GF, who is trying to cut her carb intake a little, started fishing the vegetables out of her "gnocchi" (which was completely cooked). This started a little bit of worry in our waitress because of the other problem. The single cannelloni was a bit sparse, and the hanger steak?

The hanger steak was--I swear to god--absolutely flavorless. The only thing you tasted when you took a bite was the bit of char on the outside. Otherwise there was no flavor at all to that meat. In addition, they'd put the Tiny Red Potatoes directly into the grill, so they wound up way overdone. But at this point she figured that sending back a second meal would be tacky. 

At the end of the meal, S ordered a slice of Chocolate Espresso Cake. I had a pear gelato. Our dates shared with us. The manager sent over some dessert wines gratis because of the gnocchi thing. I have to say this: the red wine they chose had an absolutely synergistic effect on the espresso cake. It was amazing how good they tasted together.

So as far as Pazo, stick to the tapas and you'll be OK. And for crying out loud, don't order one of their specialty drinks and then freak when you get the check. They're pricey.

For the movie, we trundled on over to the Charles Theater to join in their Alfred Hitchcock retrospective. This particular night they were showing Rebecca, one of his earlier films and, I think, his first produced in the USA. It's definitely his first with David O. Selznick. It's a great film with Lawrence Olivier, Judith Anderson (before she became a Dame), and Joan Fontaine. This film is done now, but there are still plenty of others left. If you're a Hitchcock fan, you should get down there soon! Don't forget to put lots of butter-flavored grease on your popcorn.

Bloody (heh) Good Fun

Mrs. Lovett: You're barking mad! Killing a man what done no harm to ya!
Sweeney Todd: [polishing his razor] He recognized me from the old days. Tried to blackmail me. Half me earnings.
Mrs. Lovett: [relieved] Oh, well that's a different matter then. For a moment there I thought you lost your marbles.

—Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)
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As a means of helping us to break out of our December funk, our neighbors insisted that GF and I join them on a grownups-only night out. So we asked (translation: "dragooned") GF's mother into watching all of the kids so that the four of us could see Sweeney Todd at the Charles Theater. 

For the uninitiated, the film is adapted from the Stephen Sondheim/Hugh Wheeler Broadway musical about a barber who is deported to Australia unfairly, then returns to London under an assumed name with revenge on his mind. It's a little on the graphic side, not unlike this:

And I get the feeling that it was material like this which tended to distance us from the material a little bit. Early on, Sweeney is a guy you might be rooting for. As you get inured to all the casual blood, you start to see the ending coming. But overall, I think Tim Burton has put together a darkly comic film which, while you won't necessarily take the kids to see, you'll probably enjoy. One more caveat: you may not like it if you saw it on stage, because there's definitely a different aesthetic involved.

After the movie, of course, we went to The Brewer's Art, where I had a nice rare cheeseburger and some of their Resurrection beer. Heh.

S-M-R-T

Homer: I saw this in a movie about a bus that had to SPEED around a city, keeping its SPEED over fifty, and if its SPEED dropped, it would explode. I think it was called, "The Bus That Couldn't Slow Down."

--The Simpsons, "The Springfield Files" (1/12/97)

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Because I promised Yellojkt, here is me as a Simpson:

This one comes from the Simpsons Movie website and is strictly do-it-yourself; if you go to Simpsonizeme.com you have to upload a photo. And...why not whore out the comments. What do you think? Do I have a reasonable image of myself? What? You don't know me? Sucks to be you.

I Cast Thee Out

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Jeremy Goodwin: [explaining his fears of his upcoming trip to meet Natalie's family] I'm Jewish. And her family is, you know, incredibly not. Which isn't by the way any sort of a problem for me, but I do think it might be a problem for them, because, after all there are those who think I killed their Lord, Jesus Christ. Not me directly mind you, I didn't drive the getaway car or anything. In fact, my family's from Latvia so we've got a pretty solid alibi.

--Sports Night, "Sally" (2/23/99)

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The other night, St. Mark's Church in Morrell Park had another one of its monthly Family Movie Nights. I tag along and help out with the projector and the sound system. It's kind of jury-rigged at this point but it gets the job done; in another couple of months maybe I'll hit the church up for better-integrated equipment.

Earlier in the day, the city brought a Dumpster to the church so that students from a local college could help the church clean out part of the parish hall to provide a space for the Guardian Angels, so they'd have a "home base" in the neighborhood. The Dumpster was still there at the end of the day, and since it still had space in it, some of the church folk decided to keep throwing stuff into it.

So after the movie (Happy Feet, which was pretty cute; I'd never seen it before), when I'd packed all my stuff up and put it into my car, I went back inside to say good night. One of the church elders was struggling with something and asked me to help out.

She was carrying a near-life-size image of Jesus in plywood. I think he was supposed to be represented as holding his hands out forward in a "bring the children to me" kind of pose, but instead his arms were straight out to the sides, as though he were back up on the cross. I think the whole thing was intended to be welcoming, but everyone agreed instead that it was a little disturbing. She asked me to bring it out to the Dumpster.

I said, "You're not asking me to throw out the Jesus just because I'm not a member of this church, are you?" She laughed and said no. I picked it up and wow. It was awkward to handle.  I started to wonder if I was going to fall down three times before I made it to the Dumpster.

I got it to the street and alley-ooped it up and over the side of the Dumpster. Of course, on the first attempt it nearly came back down and clobbered me on the head.

I still have to wonder if, one day in the future, I'm going to get to the Pearly Gates, and St. Peter is going to fix a wary eye on me: "Saay, aren't you the guy who threw out the Jesus forty-five years ago?"

Light a candle for me!

He May Be Related to James

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And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed—if all records told the same tale—then the lie passed into history and became truth. 'Who controls the past' ran the Party slogan, 'controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.'"

—George Orwell, 1984, Book 1, Chapter 3

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A few Decembers ago I was in Florida visiting my mom with GF and the Wee One. As it happened, my ex-wife,  Daughter's mother, was also spending the holiday season in Florida, visiting her parents. So she was down there with her new husband, a rather nice fellow who looks a little like Jesse Ventura, and Daughter.

Usually, when she's in Florida for more than a few days, because there isn't a lot of physical distance involved, Daughter gets to spend a night with the opposite grandparents. So there were plans afoot for her to spend a day with my mother and then she'd go back to Spring Hill after supper. My mother decided to invite the ex and her husband down for the supper; we'd all eat together and then they'd head back.

Then it occurred to her that this might bother me somehow.

So she took me aside, away from everyone else, and said to me, "Listen. I've invited (Ex and Husband) down for dinner before they get Daughter."

"Okay," I said. What do I care? I've got no argument with anyone here.

"But if that's going to be uncomfortable for you, I'll change the plan. They can just come later and I'll take them out to dinner some other night or something."

"What are you going to do, un-invite them? I've got no problem with them. I know you get along with Ex. So what?" And this part was the clincher. "Look. You told me something a long time ago: 'Always do the right thing. This way nobody can say anything against you.' This is a right thing to do." My mom actually cried a little at this, gave me a hug and so forth. And we had a decent evening.

It takes a lot of energy to hate someone. It's incredibly wearing and it's consuming. It starts to take over your whole being and it poisons your attitude and that of the people around you. Negative attitudes can really suck the life out of you. I try to avoid people like this, but the toughest part about them is that they don't usually recognize themselves as such. These are the Crazymakers in our lives.

Julia Cameron describes them thus:

Crazymakers are those personalities that create storm centers. Charismatic, out of control, long on problems, short on solutions. They draw you in and the way they can suck the life right out of you would make Dracula jealous. They are a mess. They want attention, they like thriving on drama, and they want help with those problems, but they never listen to you. They don't care about what is going on with YOU. It's all ME ME ME. They pit people against each other. They are often late, make dramatic entrances. They are manipulators. They make sure your sense of well being is snuffed before it ever gets going. They are always in one crisis or another. And being the sensitive soul you are, you probably try with all your might to solve their problems, make them happy. In a way, when you do this, you are making them happy because they have all your attention, they are in the spotlight. It gives them POWER, which is a heady thing. We have to have the power to say "no." NO! At first you might feel guilty, like you aren't being a good friend. Well, you are. To yourself. REMEMBER: Crazymakers:

• break deals and destroy schedules.
• expect special treatment
• discount your reality
• spend your time and money
• triangulate those they deal with (create drama, pit against each other)
• are expert blamers (nothing is EVER their fault, have you noticed?)
• create dramas
• are seldom where they belong
• hate schedules
• hate order
• deny they are crazy makers

Another quotation before I go, from Pulp Fiction:

Jules: There's a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.

I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd.

I'm trying very hard, some days.

Oh My God! I Shot My Eye Out!

The Old Man: He looks like a deranged Easter Bunny.
Mother: He does not!
The Old Man: He does too, he looks like a pink nightmare.

—A Christmas Story (1983)

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Well, there were no pink bunny suits at the 7:45 show. Oh well. We had fun nonetheless, even if it became clear at the end that we were just watching the DVD and not a specially-produced digital version (We got the DVD menu, where the screen remained for a few minutes before I left). Also missing from the DVD, at least the 20th anniversary version, is the scene involving Randy and a Thanksgiving skit.  

"???", the film you're thinking of is called It Runs in the Family, which was released in 1994, and is considered a sequel. The only person to return to the cast was Tedde Moore, who played Ralphie's teacher. And Jean Shepherd narrated again. So do with that what you will.

And, for the record, I came out of the Senator with yet another runny nose and the watery eyes. So it's not all about the Capra.

More Doin's At the Senator

Narrator: Aunt Clara had for years labored under the delusion that I was not only perpetually 4 years old, but also a girl.

—A Christmas Story, 1983

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I heard that the Senator Theater broke new records for both admission and its food intake at the Maryland Food Bank benefit a couple of weeks ago. If you participated, good for you! Take a bow!

We have word now that the Senator is running another benefit, this one to help fund the restoration of the theater. They're running a digital presentation of A Christmas Story. This will be going on tomorrow, Christmas Eve, and admission is $5.00. However, you can get in for free, and get free popcorn and beverage, if you come to the theater dressed in a full pink bunny suit. The offer, however, is limited to the first 300 participants per show. Personally I find it interesting (and a little scary) that there's a concern that more than one-third of the potential audience might show up dressed like that. But what the hell. I'll be at the 7:45 show, sans Bunny Suit but with GF, Daughter and Wee One in tow.

Ringing in My Ears

Zuzu Bailey: Look, Daddy. Teacher says every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.
George Bailey: That's right...that's right. (looking upward) Attaboy, Clarence.

—It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

Portly Gentleman: At this festive time of year, Mr. Scrooge, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time.
Ebenezer Scrooge: Why?

—A Christmas Carol (1951)

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Once again, today the Senator Theatre up on York Road held its annual food drive for the Maryland Food Bank. Attendees were expected to bring $5 worth of nonperishable food, or $5 cash, which would all go to the Food Bank. In exchange, you'd get a ticket to see It's a Wonderful Life and/or the 1951 edition of A Christmas Carol. (You can watch one, or stay for both.)

The films are loaned to the Senator for the day by an anonymous film collector. I don't know what the total costs to Tom Kiefaber, the owner of the Senator, are, but it's not happening for free on his end either. So there are a couple of people who have earned their wings right here on Earth.

My only complaint has to be with the theater itself. Don't get me wrong; it's a gorgeous building and you can't possibly go wrong with a single-screen theater. There are so few of those left. But there's something in there that triggers my allergies.

I'm not covering up. I'm the first to admit that It's a Wonderful Life, especially larger-than-life, has a few moments that can choke me up. But as soon as I sit in the theater my nose fills up and my eyes start to water. It looks like I'm getting all misty over the Tom & Jerry cartoon they show first.

Someday...one of these years, I'm going to remember to pop a Benadryl before I go in there. 

I'm Thinking About Getting Seeing-Eye Bats

John Hammond: All major theme parks have had delays. When they opened Disneyland in 1956, nothing worked, nothing.

Dr. Ian Malcolm: But, John. But if the Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down, the pirates don't eat the tourists.
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I have never been this dependent on corrective lenses in my life. It's taking me forever to read anything and it gives me headaches besides. With any luck I'll get them back just in time for the end of class. And it's not helping that the textbook is so dry that my eyeballs have actual tumbleweeds rolling across them. Feh.

We went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest today. It picks up not long after the previous film left off, and they've managed to shoehorn a few more references to the ride into this film. I hear tell that they've already revamped the rides at Disneyland and Walt Disney World to incorporate Captain Jack Sparrow and a few others from the movies. It'll be weird, going into that ride and seeing something different. Some rides at the Disney parks are a kind of comfort food. I haven't been the same since they killed Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and replaced it with a Winnie the Pooh-themed ride. Funny thing is, the path that the car takes is identical; they just changed the props and the car design.

So anyway, it wasn't a bad film overall, although Johnny Depp isn't quite as quirky as he was last time around. There's still a pretty heavy reliance on CGI characters but it looks pretty good, and stay through the credits so you discover the fate of one of the characters. You've been warned.