This weekend, my blog came up in conversation a couple of times. (Let's not get into what kind of boring conversations that I dabble in that my blog is a hot topic.) It made me think about my writing and I took a look at my recent posts. I couldn't find any. I realized that I have hardly been posting at all. I've only posted once on this blog since the beginning of August. I haven't written anything on my Darth Fatso blog since July. I haven't even been keeping up with my Fantasy Football League blog - and I usually don't give up on that until the middle of the season. I know that every so often I do one of these examinations and, for a while, I'll get more motivated. But this time, something is different.
Something has been going on with me for a while - and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it. It isn't exactly the same as the depression that I battled back in Tallahassee. But there are some elements of that. I have hesitated to write much about it. It is kind of personal and hard to just put out that for all three of you to read. I remember, though, that other people have benefitted from me exploring my mistakes and stupidity in years past. As the Demotivators poster states so eloquently, "It may be your life is merely to serve as a warning sign to others." Shoot, my entire Darth Fatso blog is basically a giant therapy session. In addition, from some things I have heard from friends lately, I'm not the only one feeling like this.
I have developed a theory. Well, its more like an extended metaphor. Each one of us is like a little house. As we grow up, our house changes to reflect our personality. We plant little flowers and paint the outside like our favorite teams. We hang banners and put garden gnomes out front. It isn't much, but it is kind of who we are. As time goes along, the people in our lives visit the house. Some of these people make our house a little nicer. Maybe they bring a nice potted plant when they come over. Those people also can hurt our house. They can bust out a window or smash into the wall. They can peel the paint and rip up the garden. Unfortunately, it seems like there are more people who fall into this second category. More people are in the demolition business than the home restoration industry.
Those hurts are very real and have wide ranging effects. As a child, we may hear from a parent, "Pardon me, sir, but apparently you think you are talking to someone who gives a s---," when you tell them a story. Or someone may tell our friends, "Just nod and smile and eventually he'll stop talking." That begins to make us feel like no one wants to hear what we have to say. We start to wonder if everyone feels that way, which makes us pull away and worry that when we try to talk to someone they won't really care. We may be ridiculed for being fat and unathletic. It is combined with the way society treats and views overweight people. Mix in constant rejection by the opposite sex. A person starts to feel worthless.
"You're wasting your talents doing something like that instead of earning big money." That means that unless you earn enough you are a failure. "Why did you get the B?" That means that even bringing home A's for years and being valedictorian isn't enough. Perfection is the only way to get approval. When doctors tell you that you that it is all in your head, rather than find out what is wrong, you begin to lose faith in doctors. You feel you have to prove your injury for anyone to believe it - or that it needs to be really severe to deserve attention. We all have these things happen to us. Words, actions, attitudes. They pierce us and wreck havoc on our house. Soon, we learn that the way to survive this damage is to protect ourselves.
We build false walls all around our little house. We plant huge hedges. We construct a corn maze around our property. We add giant decorative topiary in the shapes of our favorite animated characters. In my life, I built these all around me. I developed a very sarcastic way of speaking. I was able to be brutal and cutting and disguise it as jokes. I because extremely judgmental. I felt that I was better than other people because I was smarter or more spiritually discerning or whatever. I was completely oblivious to the fact that it was because I felt so inferior. I would walk into a room and look around. I saw the guys who were better looking than me or more fit than me. I saw the girls who were too good for me. There would be people who were more outgoing and socially comfortable. I felt like a loser. Over time, I started to find what made me feel better - my smarts, my Bible knowledge, my sense of humor. Eventually, I started walking into a room and assuming I was the smartest in there. Worse still, I would judge the others for it.
I turned to food as a solace. Some of that was because that was one of the few things my father and I could relate about. But a lot of it was a comfort. I would when I was sad. I would eat when I was happy. I would eat when I didn't know what I felt like. I found foods that made me feel good and soon reduced my diet almost exclusively to those things. McDonald's burgers, Miami Subs steak subs, mozzarella sticks, desserts, soda. And lots of pizza.
Even with all of those protective measures, sometimes pain would get through. There were people who could still fire an attack that went all the way through the walls, the hedges, the Elmo shaped tree. THOSE wounds were far worse. They would cause more overreaction, more protection. And those levels of defense often included pulling away from those people or becoming very angry or refusing to forgive them. Bitterness sets in. That poisons our relationships with everyone - making us even quicker to judge and slower to get over it. That is where I found myself.
The last thirty months or so have been the most tumultuous of my life. I have gone from working full time to being a stay at home dad. I have lost 100 pounds and completely changed my eating habits. We have gone through the most trying financial stretch of our lives (which is really saying something). My rheumatoid arthritis flared up worse than it ever has been. Heather's grandparents passed away - two people I had grown very close to. I went through deep bouts of loneliness and depression. I began to notice just how damaging my temper and sarcastic words were. I heard my children repeating my comments and saw them copying my behaviors. That forced me to change. The solitude led to much self-examination and chances to work on my shortcomings. Through all of that, I have found that many of these walls and hedges and decorative foliage have been torn down. My unhealthy coping mechanisms have been disrupted.
I have gone back to several people I hurt over the years and apologized for my behaviors and comments. Recently, I went to someone and worked to repair our relationship. I had said things that had hurt him and he had done things that had hurt people close to me. At the end of the conversation, I felt completely different. A huge weight had lifted off of me. I had been carrying that anger and lack of forgiveness for years. But, more than weight, it was almost as if I had seen a massive wall torn down. And for the first time in decades, I saw my little house again. It was battered and damaged. And that terrified me.
As all of those protective coverings disappeared, I began to feel raw and vulnerable. Things that didn't use to bother me hurt me now. I got overwhelmed by the things I had to do. Just trying to look at daily chores, work responsibilities, upcoming events seemed to cause a meltdown. Last Sunday, I just sat on the couch and cried for what seemed like forever. My head hurt and it felt like I busted a blood vessel in my eye. The next day, my eyeball itched and burned all day. All week I felt a little disoriented and weak. Last night, something as simple as forgetting to cut the onions for on the grill started me crying. It is an uncomfortable place to be. I don't like it. Of course, I am worried that people are going to judge me or call me a wuss.
The simple fact is that I have absolutely no idea how to function as myself. At the age of 37, I am trying to learn how to respond to people, events, words, actions in a healthy way. I don't want to go back to developing those protective behaviors - but I need to find a way to be less sensitive. I can't retreat into the person I was before. But I really don't know what to do with the person I am now. For so many years, I lived in the corn mazes and solariums I had built. I don't know how to live in my little house. I never really had taken stock of it to see just how much damage had been done. I don't think I really had even dealt with all of it. I think that I had been so good at deflecting and distracting that I distracted myself. I don't know if I ever really forgave my dad because I never really knew just how much he hurt me. And I have been so busy hurting other people for the last couple decades that I never saw how hurt I was. I've been wrestling with so much guilt about my bad actions and behaviors. And now that I am reaching the end of that list of wronged souls, the last name on it is mine.
I know that you may not buy into all of this. You may write it off a psycho babble - something I certainly believed for many years. For me, though, it is very real. It is still very new. The fact is, I never really liked the person I had become. I didn't like being arrogant and entitled and superior. I don't much like this person either, though it is for different reasons. I don't like him because I don't know how to control him. I don't know how to function and succeed without dipping into my old bag of tricks. I don't like the pain and turmoil. But I'm not going back. I have worked too hard and come too far to not see it through. I know I have a lot of work to do, but it will be worth it.
In that conversation I mentioned, my friend said something profound. We were talking about the process of breaking bad habits. He said, "It certainly isn't easy. It is extremely hard. But so is losing 100 pounds. And you did that. How much worse can this be?" The essential truth to all of this is that I am not doing it alone. I didn't lose that weight alone. God gave me the strength, and He will do it again. And I have a wife and family that loves me and supports me. I have friends who genuinely care about me. These people have seen through the fences and ivy and seen that little house. And they love IT. They love who I really am. And they want to see me figure this out. They can't wait to come visit the place when I'm done.
So as far as the blog goes, I'm sure I will get back to things eventually. It won't be too long until I'm back to writing about UCF's ridiculous ability to get to the next level in sports or examining if the failure of green superheroes to capture the public's affection has something to do with the color itself. And it won't be long until you are sighing and longing for the days when I was forgetting to write. But for now, I have a little work to do. Things are under construction. I hope you'll like the renovations.
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 12, 2011
10 for 9/11
I was standing in a labor and delivery suite at the Orange Park Medical Center, awaiting the arrival of my first child. "You may want to turn on the tv. A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center." The happiest and proudest moment in my life collided with the saddest and most terrifying moment. I know we've told this story so many times, but it is impossible for me to separate those two events. We were forced to deal with becoming new parents at the same time that we were watching parents lose children and children lose parents. We were overwhelmed by the crushing grief and fear that emanated from New York and Washington DC. We finally had to turn off the television once the camera crews started showing the thousands of people holding up hastily made "Have You Seen This Person?" flyers. It became too real and too overwhelming.
I tried as best as I could to ignore what was going on. It was virtually impossible. Everyone was shaken - and understandably so. We were living in the military-heavy community of Jacksonville. No one there knew what these attacks meant. We all knew there had to be retaliation - against who, no one knew. You could feel the tension everywhere. I swear to this day that some of the inferior care my wife received was due to the medical personnel being shell-shocked. After Josiah arrived, we didn't watch the television. I tried to avoid the wall-to-wall coverage on the internet. As a result, we actually mercifully missed out on some of the most painful stories after the initial event.
One of my friends up in Buffalo wrote on his Facebook yesterday that he never realized just how much he was still in shock over the 2001 attacks until yesterday. It was the first time the true weight of what happened hit him full force. Last night, we had on the "minute by minute" replay of NBC's coverage. Josiah wanted to watch it, since his birthday always coincides with the anniversary. But, after five minutes or so, I felt myself getting anxious. Even though I knew what was going to happen, I was terrified. After about ten minutes, Natalie just exploded and yelled, "Turn this off!! I can't take it any more!" She was just devastated at what exactly was happening - the fact that all the people on the planes died too, knowing thousands of lives were going to be lost (in the past). I understood completely, because I was feeling the same thing.
I don't think I still have ever truly come to grips with what happened. If I spend too much time thinking about it, I am just consumed by the grief and the scope of it all. It is enough to bury me. I remember right after the attacks, that I fell into the darkest depression I ever experienced. I was so distraught over the loss of life and what this attack meant. I sat there and looked at my little boy and asked myself, "What have I done? How could I have brought this little one into such a horrible place?" I was angry and withdrawn (classic male symptoms of depression). It took months to escape that dark place. And I have to be careful to not spend too much time thinking about that day or I can feel the darkness coming for me - like a Dementor attacking in Harry Potter.
I am sure many would call this avoidance. I don't care. I call it a conscious choice. When I look back at that day, I see two enormous memories. One is dark and horrible. One is bright and wonderful. I choose to focus on the second one.
My firstborn son, Josiah, turned ten at 2:11am this morning. That, to me, is a huge birthday. I remember my tenth birthday, how I felt like I really was growing up. I was double digits. I had lived a decade. I was in the upper grades of elementary. So it was a huge deal to me that Josiah was turning ten. My little boy has turned into a very big boy. He will be in middle school in two years. I am very proud of the young man he has become. He is brilliant and talented. I am blown away by his artistic talent. I have told him that between his artistic talent, his brilliant mind, and his knowledge of math and science he has all the tools necessary to create something absolutely incredible. He could be a George Lucas or James Cameron or Steve Jobs or CS Lewis.
His brain has always impressed me. Just this afternoon, he was standing in the living room running through all the ways that terrorists could still attack - despite improved security procedures. The stuff he was coming up with (sleeper cell agents, deep cover agents, attacks using trucks or boats) was right out of Hollywood filmmaking. The thing is, he's never seen those movies or read those books. He was just thinking and generated these very intricate scenarios. He's already created several fictional worlds for his comic books - and of course he's adapted popular ones to fit his needs as well. I remember last year, he had to write sentences for his spelling words. So he would write all twenty sentences as a story and incorporate words into each successive sentence. I was just blown away.
He's always shocked and surprised us. He sat up in his stroller at three months and was mistaken for a nine month old. He walked at seven and a half months. He was carrying gallon bottles of water around our apartment at nine months. He had all the planets memorized before he was two. When Pluto was demoted from planet status, I had tons of people come up to me from his preschool to ask me what he thought. I told them to ask him. "I think it's dumb. Some scientists don't want Pluto to be a planet any more. Doesn't make any sense." People wanted to know what a preschooler felt about astronomy. It just cracked me up.
When he was born, I remember watching him through the window of the nursery. Heather's parents and their close friends, the Delisis, were standing there. These friends are as close as family - their daughter has known Heather since first grade. They came up to the hospital to wait for Josiah to come. When they arrived, they said, "We could stay home and be sad or we could come up here and celebrate life." We all stood in the hallway after he was born and looked at him. Mrs. Delisi said something about God having a reason why Josiah was born this way on this day. "He is going to bring such joy on a dark day. He already has. God has something big planned for him." Josiah himself told me once, "We're going to do big things for God." It was completely unprompted and something I tucked away. I don't know what exactly his path will hold, but I feel confident that Josiah is going to be involved in something big.
I choose to focus on my son's birthday. I choose to focus on the joy and love that having him brings. It isn't that I don't want to honor those who fell on that day. I wore a 9/11 memorial badge all day. I saw a Marine in the restaurant we ate at for lunch and made a point to go and thank him for his service. I talked to my kids about what 9/11 meant and what happened. But if we spend too much time being crushed and crippled by that day, that actually dishonors those who sacrificed. They died to ensure that we can still live our lives and live them to the fullest. It's kind of like what Tom Hanks' character says to Matt Damon's in Saving Private Ryan. "Make your life worth this." I want to make my life worth their sacrifice. And I want Josiah's life to as well. I try to teach him about making the most of his abilities, not settling for less than is best. I don't want him to waste his copious talents. In future years, we will have the discussion about why he was born that day and what he can do in his life to honor that event. For now, though, he is still bringing hope and joy for the rest of us just by being himself.
For a long time, I hated the fact that we had to experience his birth on the same day as something so tragic. But, when I think about it now, I realize that we actually had a wonderful gift in the fact that we had something to amazing and incredible to think about instead. I really didn't have to go through what a lot of other people did because I had this little baby. Whenever it got too hard to handle, when the news got too bad, I could hold him and find a place of joy and hope. It is easy to recognize things like that in retrospect. I thank God so much that I have had him in moments like those. And I thank God that he is my son. He has made me a better man, a better father. And it has been a true joy and honor to be a part of his life. And I still can't believe he just turned ten...
Aug 9, 2011
NetFlicked
So I decided to go back and watch those movies again. I own the first one on DVD. So that's easy enough to watch. But, how would I go about securing the second and third movies? This used to be a pretty easy proposition. Get in the car, drive to Blockbuster or Movie Gallery, get the movies, go home. But now, that isn't so easy. When we lived up in Tallahassee, I watched as all the video rental places disappeared. Literally. Every single Blockbuster and Movie Gallery closed. The stores couldn't compete with the cheaper options: Netflix and Redbox. Blockbuster even helped kill itself by creating the Blockbuster Express kiosks housed in places like Publix. So, the thought of going to the movie store has become a very foreign idea. There are only eight Blockbuster stores in the entire Orlando area. None of those stores are within a reasonable driving distance from downtown.
I am part of the reason that the stores all closed. We started using Netflix a few years ago and it quickly became a much easier option. Much of what we were interested in was available over their streaming option. And if it wasn't, we could usually put it on our DVD queue and get it within a couple of days. The newer films were easily (and cheaply) available at one of the dozens of Redbox kiosks at 7-11 or Walmart or McDonalds. Or, I could just grab it when I was grocery shopping at Publix.
I was quite content with this plan until my decision to watch the Mission Impossible series. I checked Netflix. The first movie was available through streaming, but I already have it. Neither of the other two films were on the instant queue. They were available on disc. I knew from past experience that there was no way MI2 or MI3 would be in the Redbox or Blockbuster Express inventory - they were too old. So, no stores in the area. No instant streaming. No kiosk renting. My options were now stripped down to buying the DVDs somewhere (uh, no thanks) or getting them through Netflix on disc.
Now, this all happened on the same day that Netflix decided to flex its money grubbing muscles. They split their membership options into Streaming and Shipping. You couldn't have both any more, unless you were willing to pay twice what you were paying. Instead of $9 a month, it was $16. I, like many others, took great offense at this proposition. In fact, I went on my Netflix account and changed it to just streaming within minutes of learning of their sneaky move. So, now I didn't even have the option to get the discs from Netflix. Blockbuster kindly offered a new streaming rental service within days - and I could get MI2 through it for $3. But MI3 still was unattainable. The only way I could just sit down and watch MI3 was to rent it through iTunes on my computer (since I don't have Apple TV).
This brings up an interesting conundrum. For convenience's sake, consumers have actually limited their choices. Movie studios have to be nervous about this turn of events. What do they do with their back catalog? I know that Netflix and other companies have been trying to force us into all streaming for movies. It makes sense on their end. They don't have to pay shipping or deal with physical inventory. Their only real cost is licensing (which they would pay either way) and bandwidth. In comparison, that is a much cheaper option. That is why we have seen so many companies jump into the online on-demand movie business. We have seen companies like Netflix and Vudu and Amazon and Facebook and even Blockbuster all leap into the fray. It is a big money move. But, what does that mean for older movies that are not in the instant inventory?
What it means is that movie studios are going to be forced to allow their films to go that route. The other option is that studios will have to go back to a day where their movies were not available to consumers after their theatrical run. Yes, people still can buy the DVD and watch the movie on cable or On Demand. But after the initial burst, it will be harder for consumers to get the film without paying full price for the physical disc. I don't see studios being happy about losing that rental income. That used to be what could turn a movie profitable if it was disappointing in the theater. I remember back when the movie Hudson Hawk came out when I was in high school. It was this big budget action comedy with Bruce Willis. My friends and I thought it was hilarious. But most people didn't get it and so it tanked in the theaters. However, once it came out on video, those fans of it could spread the word and get others on board. It actually became a pretty big hit on video - which turned the movie into a profitable film. It was a similar story for movies like Last Action Hero and The Cable Guy. They were misunderstood or poorly marketed in theaters and only really got the appreciation they deserved on video.
There have been tons of movies that gained a second life on video. Films like Donnie Darko, So I Married an Axe Murderer, Shawshank Redemption, Fight Club, Office Space, The Big Lebowski, Tron, and Blade Runner became huge hits thanks to their life on video. What is going to happen with movies like that in today's environment? The initial burst on video release will still help a film. But it really is that period in between the point where a movie is on the "New Release" wall and where it hits the "Instant Queue" status where it gains cult success status.
Let's look at Shawshank Redemption as an example. It was criminally mishandled when it came out in theaters in September of 1994. The biggest thing that it was marketed with was the line "from the short story by Stephen King." If you see that, what do you think? Horror film. That's what I thought when I saw it. I passed that movie up several times in theaters because I had no clue what in the world it was about. A prison? Stephen King? Some actors I am not really emotionally attached to? It got nominated for seven Oscars, including Best Picture - which gave it some box office bump. Still, the movie grossed under $30 million. It didn't win any Oscars because it was nominated in one of the greatest years ever. The Best Picture films were Forrest Gump, Pulp Fiction, Shawshank, Quiz Show, and the inexplicably included Four Weddings and a Funeral. Other films that came out that year included: Lion King, True Lies, Natural Born Killers, Nobody's Fool, Ed Wood, Speed, Interview with a Vampire, Maverick, Legends of the Fall, Hoop Dreams, The Mask, and Dumb and Dumber. It is little wonder it got overlooked.
On video, though, it gained life. People remembered that it had been nominated for Oscars. In the Blockbuster model, they could stroll through the store and look at the case and read it. They could see that it wasn't a horror movie. They started to hear other people who had watched it. Word of mouth overcame the horrible marketing. Other movies would come out and have their videos cover an entire section of the wall for a couple weeks. But, soon, they would be forgotten. Shawshank sat there in its smaller numbers and were constantly checked out. The popularity on video led TNT to purchase it to show. It gained a HUGE popularity on that channel. Even to this day (fourteen years after it first aired), TNT shows it at least every other month. The movie is on most Top 100 lists. It is hard to find someone who hasn't seen the movie - and most of them agree that it was incredible. That never would have happened without the video opportunities.
That is a movie that is going to be hurt in this new model. So will movies that came out before there was such a streamlined DVD process - ones from the 1970s and 1980s. I remember the headache of trying to find the original Tron before the sequel came out. It wasn't available anywhere. I couldn't find it to buy at Walmart or Best Buy or Target. It wasn't available at all on Netflix (streaming or DVD) or in Redbox. On Amazon, it was only offered on VHS or some lame DVD transfer - usually for a ton of money. (Disney really dropped the ball on that whole process. I know they wanted to reintroduce it on DVD and Blu-Ray when the new one came out that way. But they probably cost themselves a lot in box office income by not having the original available.) The only place you could get Tron was at a video rental store that had held onto its copy - something that there were none of in Tallahassee.
We are kind of in an in-between phase. I'm sure that movie studios will have to buckle and make their whole film inventory available through streaming. Right now they are really losing out on exposure. A lot of people are only going to go with streaming options. So, movies that aren't available that way are toast. Honestly, I'm not sure how much that will help, though. You lose the "walk by" factor in this new model. What you see is limited by logarithms and computer generated suggestions. When you have a whole family sharing an account (like we do), those suggestions get very messed up. My kids watch a ton of Veggie Tales and Cosby Show. So my suggestions are peppered with kids shows and 80s television. (Personally, I don't want to watch Punky Brewster when I have a free moment.) I will miss out on movies I would like because I lose space to dumb suggestions like Phineas and Ferb. And, if I hear about a great movie, chances are I won't be able to get it. [To show you what I mean. Let's say you read my list of great 1994 movies and wanted to see Quiz Show since you missed out on that one. Too bad. Not on instant streaming on Netflix. Not in Redbox. Not streamed or rentable on Amazon. Not available on iTunes. You can buy it or try to find a rental store.]
Personally, I hate what Netflix did. I think they are trying to force the hands of the movie studios. They want the cheaper streaming option on all films. And they were willing to hurt consumers to do it. They knew that very few people would completely dump Netflix over the move - most would do what I did and just drop down to either DVDs or Streaming. Either way, they only lost $1 a month per person. But did they really lose anything? Now, they are offering half the service and still getting 88% of the pay. And, there are going to be people who would bump up to the $16 option just to not lose their selection. And, over time, there will be more people who do that because they will be frustrated by the inability to find older movies. In the long run, they will make more money. And I still will have to jump through hoops to see Mission Impossible 3.
Jul 31, 2011
Eva Isabelle Blann, 1920-2011
A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
She selects wool and flax
and works with eager hands.
She is like the merchant ships,
bringing her food from afar.
She gets up while it is still night;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her female servants.
She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night.
In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.
When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
She makes coverings for her bed;
she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
Her husband is respected at the city gate,
where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
She makes linen garments and sells them,
and supplies the merchants with sashes.
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
“Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
I've heard Proverbs 31 many times in my life. As a man, I was encouraged to find a "Proverbs 31 Woman." This chapter paints a picture of this extraordinary creature who seemingly does it all - and looks good doing it. Naturally, guys WOULD gravitate towards this chapter. I mean, who wouldn't want someone like that? Women, unfortunately, have been saddled with living up to this chick for millennia. Her children may rise up and called her blessed. But future generations call her "troublemaker" and "curve wrecker."
When I was thinking about the life of Eva Blann, it was harder for me to put into words all that I wanted to say. When her husband, H John Blann, passed away two years ago (almost exactly two years), the words just flowed out like my tears. I had spent so much time with him that it just poured out. But when I tried to put a point to my thoughts on Grandma Blann, it wasn't so easy. It wasn't because I didn't love her as much. She was as dear to me as my own flesh and blood family. She treated me just like her biological grandchildren, even though I was an in-law. And we had many conversations as well. But it just wasn't as simple to express.
When Grandma passed away earlier, the first thing to popped to mine was Proverbs 31. And finally I knew what to say. I think my confusion came because there was SO MUCH to put down. As I read through that passage again, I saw Grandma's picture emerging through every line. From the very beginning, about being a woman of good character. This was not ever in doubt. Grandma was the most noble woman of high character I could ever imagine. I remember any time a joke even approached some sort of line, she would just smile and say, "Oh my," or "Oh my stars." Heather has told me about when she was a child that Grandma sat the kids down and gave them a lecture on the meanings of euphemisms when one of the kids dared to say "gosh."
Her husband has full confidence in her. She brings him only good and no harm. I cannot even imagine a couple that were closer than Eva and John. They were just a set. But this is also one area that helped me to know why it was hard to figure out my thoughts. All that time I spent with Grandpa - she was there just about every time. She may have been in the kitchen and we were in the living room. Or she was in the living room and we were in the kitchen. Or she was sitting in her chair reading and not even listening to what we were saying. (Or so it appeared.) She knew he had stuff to do. He needed to minister to me - and she let him. She stepped back and let him do it, but was right there the whole time. It takes an amazing amount of grace to be a pastor's wife. She did it better than just about anyone. She enhanced his ministry because she brought so much to the proverbial table and took absolutely nothing off it.
All the lines about wool and flax and making coverings for the bed just made me think of Grandma. Every one of her grandchildren have an afghan she crocheted for them. There were always blankets and clothes around the house that she had made. When it talks about grasping the spindle with her fingers, I can't help of think about Grandma's hands. She played the piano, she crocheted, she cooked, she worked hard. Her hands were always working (vigorously, like the proverb says). The thing that amazed me when I found it out was that she had nine fingers. This endlessly fascinated my kids, especially the story of how she lost the tenth one. She got bit by a snake while serving as a missionary in Africa. And she lost her finger. But that never seemed to affect her at all. She did more with nine fingers than most did with ten. And most people probably never even knew one was gone.
She gets up when it is night. By the the time I rolled into the picture, Grandma and Grandpa were up in years. And, as is required for all older people, they got up at Oh Dark Thirty. They were up very early and eating breakfast. They also used their early mornings to pray for their family. They had a notebook with every family member's name in it. And they prayed for all of them every day. They also prayed for friends and missionaries and pastors and leaders and anyone else you asked them to. That's how they operated.
So many other little phrases just jump out to me. Opens her arms to the poor. She speaks with wisdom. She watches over her household - and can tell you exactly when the garage went up when you got home. It was like the passage was written about this woman. She did all of those things. She never knew a stranger. Grandma and Grandpa knew everyone who worked at the neighborhood Wendy's. They greeted them every time they went there and talked to them like they had grown up on the same block. This was Wendy's, people. She didn't care. Those people needed love and Grandma was going to love on them.
And when this tremendous woman's life is over, her children do arise and call her blessed. Two weeks ago, all four of her children were down to see Grandma. They came to spend some final time with this incredible lady. The woman who watched her new husband leave on a boat to serve in Africa, knowing she wouldn't see him for months - if everything went well. The woman who delivered a breech baby in an African field hospital. The woman who raised four of the godliest people I have ever met. She never stopped being that woman. She used to spend time with my kids drawing and reading. My youngest one, Gabe, had a special place in his heart for her. He used to come crawl up into her lap in the recliner on Sundays waiting for lunch and have her read books to him. He would pretend to "fix" her walker with a toy wrench. And she loved it. The staff at the assisted living facility she has lived in for the last few years were so heartbroken at the thought of this lady passing away that they desperately clutched at any hope to keep her there. But you can't cure old age. And time runs out for every one of us. It was time for her to go home to see her Heavenly Father and be reunited with her husband. And it was time for us to say goodbye.
You can't just say goodbye to someone like that. The loss of a person that is so incredible just leaves a gaping hole in your life. You know it is inevitable. And in some ways you are glad, just because they aren't suffering any more. But there is a gaping space where they used to be. And then you look around and realize that they are a part of your entire life. There are the physical mementos, like the old books and gifts she has given you over the years. And there are the memories that flood back. But a big part of it is the very foundation on which you stand. She helped to lay that through her sacrifice and love and teaching and serving. It wasn't ever flashy. But it was always meaningful. It always communicated the love of God. It may have just seemed like a peach jello salad brought to a Sunday lunch to a random observer. But it was so much more than that. It was the fact that she remembered that the husband of one of her seventeen grandchildren loved that peach jello salad. And she knew that he and his family were going to be in town for lunch that day. And she wanted him to feel loved. And so she made it and brought it over. She gave him a big hug, like every time she saw him. She saw his big smile at the salad and smiled back. Then she quietly went in the kitchen so that he could spend time with her husband - knowing how desperately he needed to have someone like that invest time in his life. And she prayed for him to get what he needed as she helped set the table.
THAT'S a woman worth praising. That is the kind of woman I hope my daughter grows up to be like. That is the kind of woman I hope my sons are blessed enough to marry. That is the kind of woman that I was fortunate enough to marry and that I thank God every day for. [She learned how to be that kind of woman at the feet of her mother (another example of that kind of woman) and her grandmother.] That is the kind of woman that never sees the limelight and never seeks it. But she will be the happiest person in the world if you gain it. (And she'll also remind you of the dangers of spending too much time in it.) I thank God I had a chance to be a part of her life. And I know I am a better person because she was a part of mine.
Jul 11, 2011
Movie Transformer
I am a movie fan. And I am far from one of those snooty filmgoers that only watch foreign films and limited release films (aka Oscar voters). I am just as likely to avoid an Oscar nominee as a brainless action film. I set my own standards for what I want to watch. They don't have to make sense to anyone else. I really don't care if you think my decisions are stupid. I'm the one who ends up having to sit there. I used to go see just about everything that came out, except for horror films. (I have NEVER liked those.) But now I actively avoid certain movies. What changed?
I spend far too much time thinking about this and came up with reasons. And, more than that, I came up with an exact date when all of this changed. September 11, 2001. Now, I know a lot of things can be hung on that infamous date. You may think it is extreme to blame my increasing disconnect with many movies to that day. But I don't. There are three major reasons that can be traced back to that particular 24 hour time period. But they aren't all what you may think.
REASON 1: REALITY TRUMPED FANTASY
I used to be lustily waiting for big time disaster and action movies. Independence Day, Armageddon, Deep Impact, Godzilla, Volcano, Dante's Peak, The Rock. I loved those movies - even with all the completely impossible plot lines and over the top stupid dialogue and moronic characters. I knew they were far from top notch cinema. But they were sure entertaining. And I was just as amazed as anyone else with the shots of the White House exploding and New York City being demolished. But, when 9/11 happened, the reality came home to roost. The fact is that a city being annihilated is horrific. When it came down to it, no one sat there and thought, "Ooooo, cool. Look at that sucker fall." Instead, we all got nauseated and started crying. Turns out mass destruction and global upheaval wasn't so cool after all. I had trouble disconnecting that reality when I watched movies. I couldn't help thinking about the aftermath. We always are left with scenes of plucky survivors hugging and promising a new day. But the reality would not even be close to that.
As we saw several other major disasters, like the tsunamis in Thailand and Japan and the earthquakes in New Zealand and Haiti, we began to realize the massive human toll in these events. It isn't just special effects. Cities and countries don't just "come back" from that. They are decimated and may never recover. For me, I couldn't always turn that off. In some movies I really like (Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, Iron Man) I can turn down the volume on those thoughts. But even then, I may have random questions pop up like, "How much money did it cost Gotham to rebuild that elevated train after it got blown up? What did all those people think when their cars got destroyed?" But I couldn't ignore it when movies like 2012 and Day After Tomorrow just cavalierly obliterated these mega cities. That was one of the same things I thought about in the original Transformers. There was this major battle in the middle of downtown. Buildings are getting shredded. City blocks are destroyed. The mayhem is a little too much for me to take.
REASON 2: HUMAN LIFE ELEMENT
The second reason that came from that day was the awakened reality of human suffering. That wasn't so much from the scene in NYC. It more came from the fact that my first child was born at 2:11am on September 12, 2001. In the midst of all that tragedy, my wife was in labor with our boy. And now, I had this little life to protect and care for and hurt for. And suddenly it wasn't so minor to watch lives get snuffed out - even in a fictional context. Subconsciously, I am always aware of the fact that those characters had families. Those thousands of people who just got blasted by an out of control robot had kids who now were orphans.
I know a lot of people say, "It's just a movie. Lighten up." But isn't the point of a movie to have viewers connect with the story on screen? I just connect in a different way. I easily slip myself into the story. As a result, I have a hard time watching movies about kids getting hurt. I don't enjoy movies that have a lot of physical pain or killings. Again, there are some movies that I like enough to disconnect those things. But this plays a major part in how I watch movies. I remember going to see Monsters Inc after our child was born. I had such a hard time because I sat there and kept saying, "This must be killing Boo's parents - to have her missing for days." I actually had to walk out of Finding Nemo when I went to see it in the theater. My pregnant wife was on a mission trip in Germany and my toddler son was staying with his grandparents. The images of a father losing his wife and kids were too much - even if they were fish.
As my kids have grown and I have become more experienced as a father, this has diminished somewhat. I have more experience disconnecting my personal feelings from shows and movies. But I still try to avoid things that spend a lot of time showing kids getting hurt. If a movie shows child abuse, I won't see it. I didn't follow the Casey Anthony case at all. When my wife and I had a free night this summer without the kids, we wouldn't go see Super 8 because I knew kids would be in peril - and our kids were hours away from me. I couldn't just go home and kiss them after the movie. Transformers is just another movie franchise that glorifies violence. People get hurt without much thought. And I just don't like that any more.
REASON 3: KIDS ARE EXPENSIVE
Money isn't so easy to come buy when you are responsible for a family. That combined with high ticket prices means that you have to be choosy when going to films. If I am going to spend $10 on a ticket - or $30 on a family worth of tickets - the movie had better be worth it. I know that critics are usually giant wastes of space. But, when there is an avalanche of bad press and negative reviews, it may not be worth my investment. It used to be that I could use my student discount and get a $5 ticket. If that didn't work out so great, it was only five bucks. And what else was I going to spend the money on? Now, though, it is much more expensive.
When you combine that with the easier access to movies after their theatrical run, it doesn't make sense to risk an unpleasant movie going experience. I have Netflix. For $8 a month, I can watch any of thousands of movies free. So, if there is a film that I wanted to see and wasn't so sure about, it's easy to watch. Or I can go to Redbox a couple months after the theater run and rent the movie for a buck. Or I can buy it on DVD or BluRay for less than a family going to the theater. So now, if I'm not sure about a movie, I just don't go.
It used to be that I would go to any superhero movie that came out - if it was good or not. For Pete's sake, I saw Spawn in the theater. But that changed when I had to buy two tickets, pay a babysitter, or leave my family home to go. Now, I am much more discriminating. Take this year, for example. I saw Thor, Pirates 4, X Men: First Class, and Cars 2. That's pretty standard. I will go see any Pixar movie that comes out. I go to see most Marvel movies - although I avoided the first Hulk and both Fantastic Four. I did NOT go see Green Lantern. I love DC Comics. I prefere them to Marvel. I like Green Lantern. I like Ryan Reynolds. But I had a bad feeling about this one. I could just tell it was going to suck. And, sure enough, it did. It was either going to be phenomenal or a disaster. I guessed right and saved a good chunk of money. If there is a franchise I particularly enjoy (Harry Potter, Bourne, James Bond, Pirates) I usually will keep seeing them until they prove themselves unworthy of that support. Pirates 4 did just that. If they do a fifth film, I will not go see it. I still want to go see Captain America, Cowboys and Aliens, and Zookeeper - and of course Harry Potter 8.
[Side Note: Yes, I realize Cowboys and Aliens seems to violate two of my new rules. But there are several things that make me want to see it anyway. Jon Favreau is making it and I think he is brilliant. It stars Daniel Craig - who I really like. It also has Harrison Ford - who I have always liked. Mix in Sam Rockwell and Olivia Wilde (NO! Not just because she is attractive. She is an intriguing actress. Follow her on Twitter and watch Tron Legacy and you'll see what I mean. This is where I am interested enough in the movie to suppress the other stuff.]
I am even discriminating with kids movies. My kids would go see anything with a G or PG rating if they could. But I don't take them. We have found out how to minimize costs (go Tuesday night to a Regal theater or before noon to an AMC one). But it still is $25 doing that. So, even though my kids wanted to see Mr Popper's Penguins, I didn't take them. That is a Redbox movie. I still love movies and watch a lot of them. But, honestly, I have swayed more to television shows - I think they have a higher percentage of enjoyable ones. And I just watch my movies in different ways than I used to.
So, when it comes to Transformers 3, it fails on all my criteria. It has too much wanton destruction and violence. It is cavalier with human life. And I wasn't sure it was going to be worth seeing. I never saw the second one and didn't feel like I had missed out on anything. I even got the DVD for it from Netflix and sent it back eventually unwatched. Truth be told, I could have been fine without ever seeing the first one either. It wasn't exceptionally enjoyable or life changing. I think Michael Bay knows how to make an exciting loud movie. I don't think he knows how to make a good one. I hated the Transformers in their modern form. They were so chaotic it was impossible to make out many features. The voiceovers were poorly connected to the character (like my argument for why the Hulk movies keep failing). The movie is so loud and wild - just for the sake of being loud and wild. Shia Le Bouf is so annoying; I think he ruins anything he is in. I feel the same way about Megan Fox. And, replacing her with an animatronic Barbie doll isn't going to help matters much. So, I just will remain in the minority of movie fans and stay away from Transformers. I may have felt different if everything I read and heard was trumpeting the film as a work of cinematic art. But, since even my movie loving friends couldn't decide on it if was "epic" or "lame," I stayed home. I'll bide my time and save my money until something more my taste arrives.
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