It’s not every day that a dude gets to learn just exactly where he fits in with his family and, in my case, with his wife. Well, not every day unless you live with a harpy, a shrew, a domineering angry joy-breaker. Not that I would know anything about that, of course. Still, I [...]]]> by Richard

It’s not every day that a dude gets to learn just exactly where he fits in with his family and, in my case, with his wife. Well, not every day unless you live with a harpy, a shrew, a domineering angry joy-breaker. Not that I would know anything about that, of course. Still, I did learn a little valuable something from my wife, known to me as She Who Must Be Obeyed (Or Else).

My little lesson in marital place putting happened in the kitchen where, it seems, so many of my lessons are learned. (Don’t fry chicken in the nude; bacon makes everything better; hairs catch fire very easily and smell bad when they crisp; never use dish soap when you run out of dishwasher soap actually made for the dishwasher. You know, the usual.)

It was an odd moment. Both I and my wife, known to me as She Who Asks What Is This Kitchen Place Of Which You Speak, were both in the kitchen together while I was preparing dinner. I was digging through the pantry searching desperately for that can of Who Hash* I needed to finish making dinner, while she was taking a leisurely stroll from the dining room, through the kitchen and into the living room.

She asked me if it was possible that I could change my dinner plans at the last minute and make a different kind of salad. Something with actual greens instead of the word jumble I’d planned. (Get it? Word salad? Sigh. No one appreciates a good medical joke.) I, oddly enough, sighed and replied like Droopy Dog that, yeah, I guess I could.

To which she responded (and I quote this accurately and without changing a thing): “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” She paused for a second and then continued. “You just have to do what I want you to do.”

I laughed. “Ha, ha, ha, ha. You’re quite the funnymaker.”

She stopped her perambulation, turned and stared at me. “I was being completely serious.”

Then she walked off. Whistling.

Sure, I crouched there in the pantry for (slightly less than) and hour, shivering and feeling oh, so very cold. But I wasn’t ground down. No way. I shall have my revenge.** Oh, yes. I will have my revenge.

*actual ingredients may be exaggerated for comedic effect.

**or possibly not.

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So let’s talk about unrealistic expectations. And, no, I’m not talking about the fact that every girlfriend I’ve ever had has walked off in a huff never to reappear except in Youtube videos that involve a lot of laughing. (No I’m not bitter. Quit asking.) I’m talking about the fact that Percy Jackson & [...]]]> by Richard

So let’s talk about unrealistic expectations. And, no, I’m not talking about the fact that every girlfriend I’ve ever had has walked off in a huff never to reappear except in Youtube videos that involve a lot of laughing. (No I’m not bitter. Quit asking.) I’m talking about the fact that Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief was the greatest movie ever made in the history of cinema and will continue to be the gold standard for visual entertainment through the millennia. In my head, that is.

On screen? Well, it couldn’t help but come up short compared to the visual feast I and other readers concocted on the screens behind our eyelids. Yeah, I’m a little down on the actual celluloid product currently gracing screens around the country.

My youngest little dude, Speed Racer, and I had to fight my oldest little dude, George of the Jungle, — literally — to see who would get to read the fifth and final book in the first Percy Jackson series first. We all loved those books. Eventually, though, George of the Jungle, Zippy the Monkey Boy and a friend, all went to see the latest iteration of the full-moon curse, while Speed Racer, my wife, known to me as She Who Must Have Popcorn, and I checked out the olympics (no athletic competitions here though).

While Speed Racer and I were a little bit disappointed, his mom came out of the movie with a smile on her face and said she really enjoyed the flick. She’s not alone. Currently, the movie has close to a 50 percent positive rating at Rotten Tomatoes, a movie rating site.

The movie follows a traditional path; boy with troubles learns he’s different, works hard to overcome problems, quests for something vitally important, finds out he’s the best evah and then wins against overwhelming odds. Sounds familiar because just about every filmmaker and novelist has read Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey. The difference is in the execution.

In this movie, Percy Jackson discovers he’s the son of a Greek god and a human woman. He also finds out he’s not along. The Greek gods, it seems, remain a randy bunch. However, just as he discovers his true nature, he also finds out he’s been accused by the head god, Zeus, of stealing the most powerful weapon in the universe. To make matters worse, he has just a little more than 10 days to find the weapon, clear his name and prevent an all-out war of the gods. And all he’s armed with is a pen, which actually isn’t as bad as it sounds.

The acting, especially by the younger set playing Percy, Annabeth and Grover, is actually pretty good. The special effects could use a lot of work, really. The herky jerky motions of the centaurs were especially distracting. Still, I thought the actors all gave it the ol’ college try.

The problem, though, came in trying to fit in the important bits from a book that, if filmed scene for scene on a movie screen, would take probably four to five hours. The director and writers had to make some cuts. Unfortunately, what they ended up cutting out where some of the best parts of the book. They also took a lot of short cuts in character motivation. Meaning, characters would do things for any reason or no reason as long as it would advance the plot. I was especially disappointed by the behavior of certain characters when facing the snake-headed Medusa.

Leaving aside the whole it-was-better-in-my-head thing, the movie really was pretty good. Especially for those who came into it with no preconceptions at all.

I can easily recommend the movie for any young teen dudes and dudettes and younger. There’s no cursing or naked nudeness or anything like that. It’s got a good message and some exciting passages. I’ll give it three and a half (3.5) dudes out of five. Not bad.

I just hope they get a chance to make a movie of the second book. Now that one should be spectacular. I mean, here’s what I see happening. In the opening scene. . .

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A couple of weeks ago, the Southerners here in Charlotte, NC, got a little taste of the Great White North. Well, they got about two inches of ice/snow/sleet and suchlike. Nothing really, as far as most Northern cities are concerned, but plenty enough to cancel most everything here on the border of the deep [...]]]> by Richard

A couple of weeks ago, the Southerners here in Charlotte, NC, got a little taste of the Great White North. Well, they got about two inches of ice/snow/sleet and suchlike. Nothing really, as far as most Northern cities are concerned, but plenty enough to cancel most everything here on the border of the deep South.

The snow came down Friday night and Saturday morning. By Saturday afternoon, the snow had melted and refrozen into a very slick sheet of ice covering just about everything. All of which made for some really fantastic sledding. The ice was so slick we could sled on most anything, from a wooden sled with metal blades to a plastic sled that only barely moves in pure snow.

Even better, the whole family was able to get out there and play in the snow and the cold and laugh our fool heads off while we roared down the street hill just outside our little cul de sac.

On Sunday, we were still able to get in a few hours of sledding in the morning before the bright, bright sun started to melt too much of the slick stuff. We were all set for school the next day when we were notified it was cancelled. Too worried about buses roaring through the pre-dawn night, hitting an ice patch and sliding into something hard and immovable. Reasonable enough. And the little dudes were thrilled to have a day off.

What they never think of, though, is that for every day off, they have to have a day that was off back on. That is, for the Monday off at the beginning of February, they had to pay the day off for President’s Day by going to school then. Enh. They really didn’t care all that much. But I have a feeling that, come Monday, they’re going to have a lot of care about this.

Still, it’s a good lesson: TANSTAAFL, as the master said. There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. What you get, you have to pay for. Sort of elementary, but it’s something that has to be pounded in again and again or it doesn’t stick.

Me, I’ll gladly trade a day in the snow and the ice with my little dudes and their mom for a day off when they just sit around and do nothing. I know I’ll remember this snow day much longer than a regular day off. And, really, isn’t it all about me? Well, since you ask, yes. Yes it is.

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