Hurts Like Heaven

So much of our time, we are worried about such mundane stuff.  I think we like it that way.  We're able to distract our brains by getting caught up in minor and trivial concerns.  Which superhero is the best. (Batman, of course)  Chronic misuse of the words "literally" and "ironic."  Whether or not Steve Jobs actually died the day after the iPhone 4S was introduced or if the news was held until that day.  We love to get all wrapped up in those kind of debates.

If we aren't debating if Two and a Half Men is better or worse without Charlie Sheen, we are usually wrapped up in our serious and personal issues.  Financial woes.  Job concerns.  Car wrecks and repairs.  (At LEAST two weeks to fix our van?  Whaaaa?)  What church we should attend.  When to get involved in problems at our kids' schools.  These are definitely important issues and deserving of our attention.  But, for the most part, they affect just us.  People living in Duluth probably could care less about if we work out issues between our daughter and Katie.  (They are too busy avoiding frostbite in September.)  But we definitely care about these things and spend a ton of time worrying about them.

From time to time, we are forced to think about bigger picture items - things that actually have meaning and depth.  This seems to bug us.  We want to get back to the useless and trivial matters.  It is uncomfortable dwelling in this more important level of issues.  There is controversy there.  After 9/11, The Onion ran a classic headline that (edited by me) said, "A Shattered Nation Longs to Care About Stupid B.S. Again."  We try to get away from the more serious stuff as soon as possible.  Or, we manage to fixate on the minors of the major issues.  The whole "Occupy" movement brings with it debate and passionate opinions on both sides.  But when we joke about the fact that over 75% of the mass of the solar system is taken up by just one planet, so we should Occupy Jupiter, then we can ignore the bigger picture.  Once we decide to go Occupy Okahumpka, we then spend twenty minutes deciding on whether to wear our slouchy knit cap or our fisherman cap.  Marginalization complete!  (I kid, I kid.  Of course, wear the knit cap.)

Of course, beyond those two issues are those global ones that force us to all take a stand.  Things like horrific natural disasters (Japan's tsunami, Haiti's earthquake), political upheaval (Libya, Egypt), and royal weddings (William and Kate) are so large in scope that we can't ignore them forever.  We must pay them some level of attention.  They demand it.  The sheer scope of human suffering (or joy) associated with these draws our minds like a magnet.

So, on the average day, we all have this stuff swirling around in our heads.  Most of our attention is focused on the first two areas, with much smaller parts contemplating the last two.  Day in and day out, that is how our brains work.  But, there are events that can just pierce through that entire process like one of Rambo's exploding arrows.

"Hey, it's mom.  The doctor said that I have Grade 3 Endometrial Cancer."


Just that quickly, all of that other stuff just disappears.  We had suspicions something wasn't right.  There were unexplained medical issues, bleeding that definitely shouldn't happen.  The doctor had tried to push  up the results appointment by two days, so they could "get started on doing what needs done."  I've been around doctors enough to know that they never push appointments up by two days to give happy news.  But now it was final.  The big question was answered, with an avalanche of new ones now developing.  We don't know the severity, the progression, the treatment, the long term outlook.  Now it is just grappling with that earth-shattering revelation.

I think that the scariest thing in the world is cancer.  Seriously, every year Hollywood churns out movies trying to scare the snotballs out of people.  They could just nail it with having a doctor come up to the various people seated in the auditorium and saying, "Excuse me, could you come out to the lobby with me?  There was something abnormal in your test results."  No pea soup spitting infant will every rival the terror that grips a person when the physician starts dropping the C Word.  It used to be that cancer was seen as a death sentence.  But treatments have gotten so much better in recent years that we hear about people surviving all the time.  We all know people that have had cancer.  And the crazy thing is that we all know people who have beaten it.  But it still is scary because we know that there is still a worst case scenario.  And we know that often the treatment seems worse than the disease.  It isn't an easy thing to fight cancer.  It takes everything you have.  I think that's why you "get over" most other illnesses and "beat" cancer.  It is a fight.  Fighters don't "get over" their opponents.  They "beat" them.  And they never really get over them.

I think it is natural to imagine the worst case scenario when you get news like that.  You really can't help it.  In that first moment when the news clears out all the riff raff in your mind, your entire mental processing power is focused on that one piece of news.  And that means that your mind runs in a hundred different directions all at once.  You think of the people who have beaten cancer.  You think of the people who haven't.  You think of what it will take to actually win the fight.  And you think of what happens if you lose.  That last one is the part that makes you think of the worst.  What happens if she dies?  Ugh.  What a horrible thought.  I know that there are people who say, "Don't let your mind go there.  She is still alive and can still beat this."  I know that very well.  My mom is a fighter - she's already faced cancer, among numerous other terrifying things.  She has MS.  She has an arachnoid cyst in her spine.  She has suffered through abuse and life experiences that would have shattered most people.  And she did it with grace and dignity.  So I know she can win.  But that haunting question of "what if..." is still so potent.

I love my mom.  She is an incredible person.  I've written about her before on this blog.  I know that at some point that she will move on from this life.  I just don't think I'll ever be ready for it.  I've lost people I care about before.  One grandfather died when I was 11, one grandmother when I was 13.  The other grandfather died when I was 16.  My dad passed away when I was 25 and my other grandmother when I was 30.  Heather's maternal grandparents passed away this summer and in 2009.  I've experienced this before.  But my mom is a different story.  I remember when my dad died, the thing that just floored me was when I got to the house and he wasn't in his chair.  I was just used to seeing him in that chair.  With my mom, I think about the day when I won't be able to call her and know she's home and willing to talk.  Even if it is just twenty minutes of me venting - she's always there.  It is weird when she's out when I call.  I can't imagine how hard it will be when she isn't there at all.  That day, obviously, isn't today.  But it is awfully hard to keep my mind from veering in that direction from time to time.

The hardest thing was breaking the news to my kids.  I knew it would be hard for me.  But I couldn't imagine that pain could actually be worse.  When I looked at Josiah and Natalie and told them what was going on, my heart broken in a different place.  I told them that she can beat this.  I told them how many people we know have beaten cancer.  But their little minds did the same dance mine did.  I saw the fear in their eyes - the anger, the hurt, the questions.  It was horrible.  Again, my kids were close to Heather's grandparents and so they've seen death.  But this was a whole different level of pain.  It was awful.  There's only so much you can say.  Even when you're a kid, you know that word is terrifying.  My own heart hurt like I couldn't believe.  Having to hold Natalie hours later as she thought about not being able to go to Grammy's house to bake cookies was just too much to take.

For a couple of days, I had trouble really concentrating on thing like work and baseball.  I think I was just worn out by the end of the day.  I kept falling asleep in my chair before 10pm.  So, apparently I missed the greatest baseball game ever played, among other things.  And my heart hurt.  I would say it "hurt like heck," but that wasn't it.  The hurt was tempered, like it was with my dad and Heather's grandparents.  When Coldplay's new album, Mylo Xyloto, came out, their second song gave me what it felt like.  The title of the song is "Hurts Like Heaven."  The song has nothing to do with what is going on here, but the phrase stuck with me.  It perfectly described what I was feeling.  It hurt like Heaven.  There was a level of pain that came from the thought of my potential loss.  There was the fear and apprehension.  There was all of the normal human emotions and feelings.  But, there was also another element that brought a strange peace.  It was good to know what exactly we were facing.  It could answer many health problems that had surfaced lately with my mother.

But the biggest part is that I don't fear for my mother.  I know she is in God's hands.  I know what will happen to her when she does die - whenever that is.  She will be home in Heaven with the God she loves and has diligently and passionately served for 35 years.  She won't hurt any more.  She will be free of the crooked skeleton.  Her eyes will see clearly again.  It won't hurt her to walk around.  She will be whole and healthy and free.  How can that be a bad thing?  Yes, we will miss her horribly here. But she will finally have what she has lived for.  She'll get to be with Jesus.  And that means our pain is temporary.  It may be intense and crippling and awful.  But it will end.

It is impossible for me to think of this upcoming challenge without this mindset.  We will go through the treatments and surgeries and appointments.  We will try to tackle this illness and do whatever possible to win.  We will pray for healing and for wisdom.  But, even if the worst case scenario happens, my mother gets to experience wholeness and healing and happiness like it is impossible to know on Earth.  But that is a thought for another day.  We appreciate your prayers.  This isn't going to be easy.  It has a way of shaking up a normal routine - both physical and mental.  But God is still in control.  We still have time and hope.  And my mom is still answering her phone.

Now in 3D!!!

A couple weeks ago, we all went to see Lion King 3D during its "Not As Limited As We First Thought Engagement."  My wife and I were huge fans of the original.  I remember seeing it in the theater when it first came out.  I was home from college during the summer of after my sophomore year.  It was maybe the only movie I ever saw with both of my parents in the theater.  I loved it.  My mom wasn't that big of a fan of it.  I don't remember what my dad thought.  I bought the soundtrack and had the movie on VHS when it came out.  I had hoped my kids would like it too.  We have the DVD and they've watched it before.  But the chance to see it on the BIG SCREEN - and in 3D!!!  Plus we had some Disney movie vouchers and ten bucks on my AMC Stubs card.

My wife and I were taken in all over again.  The movie is so majestic and incredible.  The score and soundtrack and phenomenal.  And the story is very powerful - with elements of Star Wars and Macbeth woven throughout.  It was beautiful in 3D.  But it reminded me of those old Viewmaster discs that made a "three dimensional" picture that looked suspiciously like a pop up book.  It worked better than some newer 3D movies, though.  It didn't resort to cheap tricks like things flying at the screen.  But it didn't take me in like I was hoping.  It probably was because the film was a 2D classical animation, and you just can't make that completely 3D.  The other reason is because Lion King was about the closest thing to a 3D movie as you could get without it really being one in the first place.  The attention to detail and the depth of the original film was already engrossing.  Scenes like the animals coming to see the newborn Simba, with Zazu flying overhead was already powerful.  In 3D it was even cooler.  But I didn't walk away saying that it improved the movie that much.  I would have enjoyed seeing the original on the big screen anyway, so the 3D was kind of icing.

[Side Note: Josiah loved the movie.  Natalie didn't like it because it was too dark and violent.  Gabe didn't care for it at all and spent most of the movie crawling all over us and playing on Heather's phone.  I had forgotten just how dark the movie was.  That's probably the reason I liked it so much.  Of course, I was 20 the first time I saw it.  Soooooo....]

It made me think about 3D movies in general.  Lion King 3D was a runaway success.  It took in 90 million dollars during its brief run.  New movies would kill for that kind of box office.  This was a movie that had been out for sixteen years and was coming on Blu-ray three weeks later.  Disney spent about $10 million on the 3D transfer and maybe another $10 million on promotion.  So a $70 million profit isn't a back month for the Mouse.  That doesn't count the increased sales of the Blu-Ray packs that came from the new generation of fans from the re-re-release.  (It had previously been re-released on IMAX in 2002 and took in $15 million there.)

We have been inundated with 3D movies.  The reason why is obvious.  It's all about the green.  The average movie can be transferred to 3D for between $2 million and $5 million.  Movie theaters charge an extra $4 per 3D ticket.  So that means that a movie can generate an extra $20-$50 million from that small investment.  The problem is that most of these 3D titles aren't delivering on the added cost.  So we are seeing the box office of 3D movies dropping.  Movies that were expecting boffo 3D money are underperforming pretty consistently.  Many in the industry have wondered if it is the death knell for 3D movies.  I don't think it is.  Have you ever known Hollywood to leave money on the table?  Even an underperforming 3D movie (think Harry Potter 7.2, Pirates 4, Green Lantern, Green Hornet) can pull in an extra $20 million from that small transfer.  Would YOU give up $20 million?  Yeah, neither would the movie studio.  [Another Side Note:  I'm not saying Harry Potter 7.2 underperformed.  $1 billion worldwide box office is NOT underperforming.  Its 3D numbers were disappointing to Warner Brothers.]

From what I've seen, there are three types of 3D movies coming out right now:  the 3D Film as Investment, the 3D Film as Experience, and the 3D Film as Event.  To me, the breakdown is probably about 70/20/10 for those three categories.  And that is probably why we are seeing such a backlash against 3D movies in general.

The 3D Film as Investment is the movie where the studio executive is saying, "You know, we could do a 3D transfer on this movie and make an extra $30 million.  We're already going to make a lot.  Let's make more and improve the movie's bottom line.  Maybe I can buy another BMW."  These are movies like Captain America, Alice in Wonderland, Clash of the Titans, Harry Potter, Despicable Me, Gnomeo and Juliet.  The movie doesn't really get any better through being in 3D.  It may have a few extra moments that feel cool.  There are some 3D gimmicks thrown in.  But your feeling for the movie isn't going to improve much wearing those glasses.  In fact, it may actually HURT the movie.  Take Captain America.  I saw this movie twice this summer - once in traditional format and once in 3D.  And I saw them in that order.  I loved the movie.  It really exceeded my expectations.  I liked the performances, the characters, even the look.  The 1940s scenes had an old time hue to them.  It almost had a washed, sepia tint that you didn't even notice until the 2011 scenes.  The whole movie looked different.  It was a nice visual element.  In 3D, though, I kept noticing the annoying stuff.  When Cap was racing on top of a train, it looked like an action figure on a toy train.  It made all the FX look faker.  It actually made the film LESS believable.  I probably would have not had such a high opinion of the film if I had seen it in reverse order - 3D first and 2D second.  Actually, I may not have seen it twice at all.  If that had been the case, the theater really messed up their accounting.  Getting two tickets is better than getting an extra $4 on one ticket.

Generally, I avoid this type of 3D film.  It's not worth it.  It takes your brain and eyes a while to buy into the 3D format in the first place.  Some elements don't work and seem clunky.  And the gimmicks are just insulting.  I usually will just see the 2D version of this movie.  I saw movies like Thor, Harry Potter, Toy Story 3, and Cars 2 in traditional format.  It just wasn't worth the extra money - especially when you are talking about that surcharge on every ticket (between two and five, depending on who in our family went).  I usually can tell what stuff they stuck into a movie to make it "worth the 3D upcharge."  In Harry Potter 7.1, I sat there and pointed out seven different scenes to Heather that were filmed for the 3D transfer that they ended up not doing.  I did the same thing with Thor.  I don't find that endearing.  I find that insulting.  Make a good movie.  That will suck me in.  I don't need gimmicks.

The 3D Film as Experience is a movie where your experience is actually improved by the 3D format.  You know, the kind of movie that this was developed for - the kind that they should limit 3D movies to.  Usually, this kind of movie is not transferred to 3D; it is actually filmed in 3D.  (Although that is not always the case.  For example, there was no way to salvage Pirates 4, even though it was shot in 3D.)  Movies in this class are films like Avatar.  The movie was made in 3D and was designed to be experienced in 3D.  I would argue Tron: Legacy would fall into this category.  I actually really liked that movie.  The scenes in the "real world" were shot in traditional 2D.  When they went into the computer world, it became 3D.  And it BECAME 3D.  It sucked you in and you were IN that world.  The movie was better that way.  These movies are hard to come by.  Truthfully, documentaries seem to do this better.  I will be more willing to see this type of film than the first type.  The new Amazing Spiderman 3D looks like it will fit into this category.  It is being filmed and created in 3D.  One of the goals of the filmmaker is to actually let the viewer feel like Spiderman as he swoops through town.  The first preview showed some of that.  That's a movie worth seeing in 3D - if they can pull it off.

The 3D Film as Event is the rarest of the 3D crop.  This is a movie that becomes a "must see."  You could argue that Avatar moved into this category after its release.  Everyone was seeing it.  It was the highest grossing movie of all time.  So, even though it was an experience, it became more than that.  People felt left out if they didn't see it.  (And the backlash hipster crowd refused to see it BECAUSE everyone saw it.)  Lion King would definitely be in this category.  Beauty and the Beast also fell into this group when it came out in 3D a few years back.  You often will see a re-release of a big movie fit into the Event category.  Coming up next year, you will see more films fall into this group.  Titanic is coming to 3D on April 6, 2012.  That movie was such a mammoth event when it came out that I fully expect it to do big business.  Plus, James Cameron is THE king of the world . . . of 3D.  So, expect it to deliver the goods.  Star Wars begins its trek to 3D, and its eventual release on 3D Blu-Ray, next year.  Episode 1 hits theaters on February 10.  The plan is to release the entire series, one per year.  But, recent buzz has been that George Lucas may not follow through if Episode 1 bombs.  (Brilliant strategy, leave the fate of the series in 3D to arguably the worst film of the series.  Don't start with Episode IV or anything.)  Personally, I don't know if I will see Titanic when it comes out.  I liked the movie, but I'm not in love with it.  My son and I are already making plans to see Star Wars, though.

I don't think 3D movies are going anywhere.  There is too much money in the format.  In addition, with the growing market of 3D Blu-Ray players, 3D televisions, and 3D tv stations, it just seems like it will hang on for a while - even if it doesn't deserve to.  I think we have seen a movement where moviegoers are expressing their distaste for stupid 3D releases, just like they revolted against unnecessary IMAX movie offerings.  Those special formats are best left to movies that deserve the added attention - movies that are Experiences or Events.  Those are the kinds that I go to.  I already have trimmed back my moviegoing in general.  I don't go to everything that comes out.  Lots of movies look just fine on my tv and I can handle the $1 redbox rental much easier than the $10 ticket price.  I'm not going to waste even more money on 3D gimmicks.  It's the same message we've been telling studios for years.  But some effort into your films.  Make something we want to see, that is worth seeing, and we'll watch it.  Instead of putting an extra $2 million into a transfer, put it into screenwriting or directing.  If the studios want to see their ticket sales go up, their 3D sales improve, make movies that are worth paying for.

My Little House

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.

10 for 9/11

I know that I wrote about some of this five years ago (has it been that long already?).  But I wanted to again.  Yesterday, as a nation we observed the tenth anniversary of the worst terrorist attack in our history.  There were tributes running on television almost non-stop for the last week.  Sports teams wore flag decals, ribbons, and bandanas.  The UCF/BC matchup this past Saturday was especially poignant as the hometown Knights actually honored a BC alumni who gave his life in the World Trade Center while leading a dozen people to safety.  You had to be in a cave to miss the tributes; just like it is impossible to forget the event itself.  We all know exactly where we were at the moments the towers fell, when the Pentagon was hit, when the fourth plane disappeared into a field.  We all know precisely where we were when the world fell apart.

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...

NetFlicked

The other day, I saw the awesome looking trailer for Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol.  (Here is a link so you too can be impressed.  And, yes, that brief flash you saw is Sawyer.)  I was thinking about the Mission Impossible movie franchise and thought that I would like to watch them again before the new film came out.  I thought the first film was amazing - a very rare action film that was brainy and brilliantly written. As good and smart as the first one way, the second one was stupid.  The best part about it was that I had just come back from Australia and was able to sit there and point out all the places I had been.  I didn't see the third one when it was in theaters because I had a strong aversion to violent movies at that point.  But I have caught most of it over the years and thought it wasn't bad.  I definitely wanted to give it another chance.

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.