February 25, 2024 - Renouncing My Obsession

I was six years old when my parents took me to see Star Wars in 1977. From what I've been told, my mother was a bit worried that Vader was going to scare me. All I know is when he stepped onto that blockade runner, my life changed forever. 

For over forty-five years, Star Wars has been an essential part of my identity, my existence. I've forged friendships over it; when one of the campus dorms was showing the (then only) trilogy, the first movie ended, and the woman next to me stood up to leave. I said to her, "Where are you going? There are two movies left. Sit down." She did. And we've been close friends ever since. Just as I've been close friends with the guy who was sitting in the row in front of me, the only other person cheering for the Empire.

When Episode I came out, I was fortunate enough to get a pass to an advance screening, albeit one about 400 miles away. When my mother mentioned this to her mother, it was with a comment somewhat along the lines of, "Do you believe this kid? Spending hundreds of dollars to see a movie he'll see in a week anyway?" My grandmother, bless her, asked, "Did it make him happy?" It did. And then some. When Episode III was coming out, I was talking to a coworker who had never seen any of the movies about how I was seeing it half a dozen times that weekend. When she asked me what I would do if I didn't like it, I told her I didn't understand the question. Of course I was going to like it. It's Star Wars!

Our Star Wars marathons--once viewings by three people over the course of one afternoon--have evolved over eighteen years into weekend-long events with dozens of people, occasion-specific treats, and Star Wars-centered games and activities. And let's not forget the Star Wars room, the precursor to what my wife has thrice agreed will be our Star Wars house, the room that was intended to keep people from staying over but instead made people want to stay over. 

But it all began with Vader. When the prequel trilogy arrived, I was ecstatic. Yes, I knew it contained myriad problems, but my obsession allowed me to overlook them. Then the sequel trilogy arrived. A throwback to the early days, but without the same oomph factor. Again, my obsession allowed me to overlook that. Then the television shows. And the stand-alone films. And more and more and more. 

And through it all, Vader's role changed. While he was once the face of the franchise, he has now been relegated to just another character. While the first six films all had him as the centerpiece, now he's just one character in a single part in the grander galaxy of stories. I think I saw it all happening, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. Even when I saw the videos of Vader at Disney World busting moves to "U Can't Touch This" (yes, I included the link, so I'm not the only one seeing it), I willed myself to look past it. 

But with that change, my obsession began to dwindle. Just over three years ago, we dismantled the Star Wars room. My wife did offer me the chance to convert our office to Horatio's room, but I dreaded the day when he looked around and asked why Vader has a bigger room than he does. So now, with a few choice exceptions, all the memorabilia is boxed up in the basement. I'm unsure when (or if) it will be unboxed.

My urge to go to Galaxy's Edge at Disney World has been tempered, with Kylo Ren now the focus of the attraction. True, I won't have to watch Vader dance, but I won't have the Star Wars experience I would want. 

I was finally forced to acknowledge the truth last year when my friend's daughter turned seven. For her birthday, she wanted an Ahsoka light saber to go with her Halloween costume. That's when I realized it was time for me to step aside. She is the same age I was when I dressed as Vader for Halloween; now she gets to step into Ahsoka's shoes. I am no longer the intended audience. And that's okay. I can take a step back, live in my Vader-centered world of the original trilogy (complete with my own personal ending, pressing stop after Palpatine says, "Now, young Skywalker, you will die."), and I will be content. 

I have no idea if Horatio will have any interest in this galaxy far, far away, let alone an obsession with it. He'll be exposed to it, but he'll have his own thing, I'm sure. And when he wants to wallpaper his room with whatever it is, I'll be the first to help, recognizing that part of myself in him.

 

May 6, 2022 - Why You Should Have Taken Those "Weird Al" Tickets I Offered

When "Weird Al" Yankovic announced "the unfortunate return of the Ill-Advised Vanity Tour" would be coming to the Chevalier Theater in Medford for two nights, I immediately asked Jessy if it was okay if we went to both shows (as we did on the first tour of this kind). Because she loves me, she said yes. In my haste to get tickets to Friday and Saturday's shows, I accidentally bought two pairs of tickets for Friday's show. I cursed under my breath, bought a pair for Saturday, and figured I'd have time to find someone to take the extra pair. I mean, almost everyone I know is somehow connected to me through music. So many of my friends and family share a love of this vital aspect of existence. I texted friends who'd gone with me to see Al before. I popped back up on Facebook a couple times to offer them to anyone who was interested. I posted on the NextDoor app to see if anyone in the area was interested. No takers. Not one. 

I understand that, even though he's currently in his fifth decade of being the jester in music's royal court, people still see him as a novelty act. They hear his name and think, "Oh, yeah, the guy who did 'Amish Paradise' or 'Eat It' or 'Smells Like Nirvana'." They think of a guy who essentially karaokes new words over someone else's music and makes something somewhat amusing. It's cute. But it's not a talent. Here's where they're wrong. Well, not wrong, but unaware of the whole truth. "Weird Al" has released fourteen studio albums, each with five parodies and a polka medley on twelve of them. The rest of each album contains original music, often in the style of a particular artist: "Mr. Popeil" in the style of the B-52s, "Trigger Happy" in the style of the Beach Boys, "My Own Eyes" in the style of the Foo Fighters, and dozens more. 

The breadth of these songs, the focus of Al's current tour (fully described as the "Small Venues, Back To Basics, Stripped Down, Nothing Fancy, Theatrics-Free, No Videos, No Costumes, No Props, No Frills Whatsoever, Non-Extravaganza, Sort Of Kind Of Unplugged-ish, Cut-Rate Production, Taking It Down A Notch, Super Casual, Low Energy, Old Guys Sitting On Stools, Just Hanging Out On Stage, Pulling Out None Of The Stops, Trying Not To Work Up A Sweat, Fun For Us Maybe Not So Much For You, None Of The Songs You Really Want To Hear, All Of The Songs You Usually Skip Over, Obscure Original Tunes, Deep Cuts And B Sides, No Hits, All Filler, Lowered Expectations, Let’s Just See What Happens, This Might Really Suck, Crowd-Disappointing, Audience-Baffling, Limited Commercial Appeal, Ridiculously Self-Indulgent, Ill-Advised Vanity Tour"), requires a band with tremendous talent and range. And I'm the first to admit that if this were an ironically normal Al tour, we wouldn't have to go to both shows; on a normal tour, everything is planned to the minute: the same two dozen songs, the same costumes, the same jokes; it's the same show every night. But this tour is the opposite. In its 2018 incarnation, Al and his band played seventy-seven shows and had a setlist that rotated through fifty-one songs, many of which they hadn't played live in years, if ever. Compare that to Taylor Swift or Luke Bryan or Drake who do the same set every night. Even on Luke Bryan's last tour, he ended with the same cover. Al and his band, by comparison, offered a different cover every show. That's seventy-seven songs they had to know in addition to the fifty-one songs from their own catalog. And they had to be ready to change it up at a moment's notice; it's not like they said, "Okay, I only have to know these twenty-something songs for tonight." There were times Al called an audible and changed the set list mid-show. The range of covers included popular hits like Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell" and Chuck Berry's "Johnny B. Goode and know-your-audience selections such as Devo's "Uncontrollable Urge", They Might Be Giants' "Particle Man", and Tom Lehrer's "The Elements Song". 

All of this is to support one idea. His band is insanely talented! And this is what y'all missed by not taking advantage of my moment of inattentiveness. A band that has the same members since Al's debut in 1983, not counting his keyboard player, Rubén Valtierra, who has been with the band only since 1992 (thirty years in and he is still considered "the new guy"). A band that shifts from pop-metal to country to rap to swing to zydeco to you-name-it seamlessly, because they can play it all and they can play it all well. They have to, because if you're going to play a parody of Huey Lewis or Madonna or Dire Straits or Chamillionaire or Lady Gaga or Imagine Dragons, you have to sound like them. Every one of them. Every time. And they do. Because they're that damn good. Seriously, you should have gone. Not to rub salt in the wound, but, yeah, you missed something truly amazing.

Want a quick, twenty-five minute overview of all the cover songs they did? Go here. Have four hours on your hands and want to hear them all in their entirety? Check this out.

And as a thank-you for reading this far, here's a picture of Horatio in a recycling bin:

February 13, 2022 - Shilling Freely

I'll be honest. I have no problem shilling for a company that deserves it. I've shilled for Shutterfly. I'll shill for Firefly's barbecue until I die or they go out of business, whichever comes first. I figure I should promote companies that do well by me in addition to calling out those who have not lived up to my own customer service expectations (e.g., Ticketmaster and American Airlines). 

I'm here today to praise the app GetUpside. It's pretty simple. Download the app, buy gas or food at participating locations, and get money off per gallon or a percentage back on food purchases. I've been using the app for about two months. The savings haven't been earth-shattering, but between getting gas every week or two (I found one gas station that's pretty much on my way home from work and on the way home from Horatio's swimming lessons) and a bakery/sandwich shop we go to every week or two, I've earned about twenty dollars back. I can get cash back or put it toward any number of gift cards (I'm using that phrase "any number of" to indicate a good variety of something, not to indicate that I get to choose the number; it's more descriptive usage than prescriptive, a change for me that folks probably shouldn't get used to). 

I'll be honest. I have no idea how long this will last. For all I know, the list of
participating locations will change tomorrow or the percentages will drop precipitously. I know the sandwich shop we go to only allows a certain number of people to use the app per month. But for now, it seems to be working well enough to keep going. If you think you might benefit, give it a shot. Especially if you like Burger King; they seem to be giving back over 30% per purchase - too bad I gave up fast food. And if you use this link - https://upside.app.link/44R4M - we can both save even more. No, don't thank me. It's my civic duty to help.

And here's a picture of Horatio showing his love of letters:

February 5, 2022 - "Between the World and Me" review

Normally I let my Goodreads reviews sit in the sidebar, but this book is too important to sit on the sidelines.

This gets five stars not because I enjoyed it, but because of its importance. Coates holds nothing back, nor should he, in his declaration of oppression by, not white people, but by those who call themselves white. He alternates between his descriptions of everything that has come "between the world and [him]" - personally, societally, historically - and how finding his place at Howard University, the Mecca, gave him an understanding of his own race. This forces me to wonder whether that isolated experience, that time when he, because of his race, was not subjugated, not beaten, not oppressed, not killed is the first step. It forces me to ask how we, as a society, can expand that feeling of safety and belonging. Do we simply add in other non-white races and ethnicities until whites are the only ones not counted? Do we undo who is considered white? Where do people from the Mediterranean fit in? Are they white? But I digress...

I want to write so much more about this book. I highlighted lines and passages that speak to me for various reasons (much to the horror of my students - "You annotate willingly‽"), but I cannot find the words to explain why. So here, in some kind of chronological order, are some of my thoughts throughout this book:

*"America believes itself exceptional [but]... one cannot, at once, claim to be superhuman and then plead mortal error" (8): How can we claim to be the greatest nation in the world, a beacon of freedom to all, and continue to deny what we've done to black people for over four hundred years and show few signs of improvement?

*Coates's grew up in schools celebrating Black History Month where he watched films "dedicated to the glories of being beaten on camera" (32), forcing him to wonder what non-violence achieved.

*"[The] power of domination and exclusion is central to the belief in being white, and without it, 'white people' would cease to exist for want of reasons" (42): This goes back to my earlier comments. Are Italians or Greeks white only because it gives them a position of power? Are they white only so they can have non-whites beneath them?

*"[Perhaps] being named 'black' was just someone's name for being at the bottom" (55): the corollary to the example above.

**"[The] bodies of women are set out for pillage in ways I could never truly know" (65): This is exactly how I feel being a white person trying to understand what it's like to be black. It's something that, despite all the reading I'm doing, I can obviously never understand.

*"Prince was not killed by a single officer so much as he was murdered by his country" (78): This is a perfect description of the institutionalized racism inherent in our country. At the same time, he was killed by a black officer, and I have to wonder how that officer reconciles these two (in this case) disparate elements of his identity.

*"[Whenever] I saw the police it meant something had already gone wrong" (85): I have to ask if police have dual objectives - prevention for whites (I have never seen police simply in the neighborhood in any area I've lived) and punishment for blacks.

*[On] West Broadway... white people spilled out of wine bars with sloshing glasses and without police" (89): This speaks to the previous line; I can't imagine police being as tolerant of black people drinking in public.

*"[Without] the right to break you they must necessarily fall from the mountain, lose their divinity" (105): This hearkens back to Isabel Wilkerson's Caste, the idea that blacks must be subjugated for the simple reason that whites need someone to be superior to.

*"The plunder of black life was drilled into this country in its infancy and reinforced across its history" (111): This is probably the essential theme of the book. Blacks were used from the start to improve the standing of those who call themselves white, a situation that has not improved. Look at the NFL for example - over 70% of the players are black, sacrificing their bodies and well-being to entertain the masses, while only 1 of 32 head coaches is black. And look at the situation with Brian Flores, who was denied the Giants' head coach job before he was ever interviewed .

*When speaking with Prince Jones's mother, Coates asked her if Prince's white friends' parents treated her with respect, and she said, "By then I was the chief of radiology at the local hospital... [and] so they treated me with respect," but "[she] said this with no love in her eye, coldly" (141): If I had to guess, I'd say they respected the position, not the woman.

But the two moments that stand out the most to me are:

*"[Southern] Manhattan had always been Ground Zero for us.... Bin Laden was not the first man to bring terror to that section of the city" (86, 87): This does much to reinforce the brutality of black life in the US. Yes, what happened on September 11th was horrific, an attack on this country not seen in generations, but where is the outrage over the other attacks that have happened on American soil? It's absent, because those killed were not viewed as worth remembering or even seen as human.

And on a strictly personal level, these two:

*"Black people love their children with a kind of obsession. You are all we have and you come to us endangered" (82):

*"...my beautiful brown boy, who would soon come into the knowledge, who would soon comprehend the edicts of his galaxy, and all the extinction-level events that regarded you with a singular and discriminating interest" (90): These forced me to think of my son's future. My son who is half black living in a 96.6% white town. What's going to happen on that day he comes home from school and unlocks the front door, and someone drives by and calls the police? This is no longer a hypothetical situation; it's a probability as far as I'm concerned, and I'm scared to death that I will be unable to prepare him for what lies ahead.

January 31, 2022 - Random Thoughts

 

It took me way too long to figure out that 

the tissues in the top-opening dispensers fold in half easily, while the tissues in the top/side-opening dispensers fold more into a half and (almost) two quarters that don't quite fold equally into a clean half, which I find annoying.

And why is it that hotels keep the box of tissues in the bathroom, right by the toilet paper that can serve the same purpose, yet have no tissues where the beds are and where guests spend the vast majority of their time and where they likely need the tissues more often (unless they are having some form of GI trouble, in which case leave the tissues where they are)?

"Tell me you're a geek without telling me you're a geek."

Boba Fett is speaking Basic, not English.

The word crampon is way too close to the word tampon. And to have the word cramp in the former when it's more often associated with the latter is just confusing. But, as it turns out, crampon is derived from Middle English; tampon is from the 19th century, so whoever came up with that word should have put some more effort into it.

And while we're on the topic of etymology, I envision this conversation happened at one point: 

Person #1 (in the 18th century and likely in French): I have devised a study of insects. I shall call it entomology.

Person #2: Well, back in the Middle Ages, someone called the study of words etymology. Don't you think people might be confused? 
Person #1: Nonsense. I added an n and changed the y to an o. It couldn't be any clearer.

And thanks again for reading this far. Here's Horatio doing his best Far Side impersonation (thanks/apologies to Gary Larson):

January 29, 2022 - Jesus Christ Superstar review

Last night we went to see Jesus Christ Superstar at the Providence Performing Arts Center. I will preface this by pointing out two salient issues:

1) I hadn't listened to the soundtrack before seeing the show.
2) I'm Jewish. 

I'm fairly certain these two elements severely impacted my understanding and appreciation of this show. 

That said, regardless of these two facts, this was a weird show.

Opening up with a woman dancing crazily on a giant cross laid down across the stage (see Last Supper picture). Then the rest of the cast comes running down the aisles to join her. This prompts my first question of the evening: why are they running down the aisles? Why not come in from the wings? What purpose does this directorial decision have? And then the dancing that follows. I'll admit it was impressive and the cast was tight. But what the hell were they doing? Is there some form of Christian prayer where people hold a palm to their forehead and hold the other arm outstretched? Because that's what they did. A lot. 

And why does Jesus (Aaron LaVigne) have an acoustic guitar that he barely plays? Did Jesus play the guitar? Seriously, I'm curious. Wait, a quick Google search tells me it was invented around the 16th century, so that's a nope. So why have Jesus look like he's at an open mike night for much of the show?

"King Herod's Song" featuring Paul Louis Lessard was a showstopper, with all the glitz and pomp to captivate a crowd (all that was missing was a tap number). And Alvin Crawford as Caiaphas was amazing - incredible pipes on this guy! But I still don't understand what was going on. 

Sure, I got the basics - Jesus is a rebel, his followers love him, he's reluctant to be the son of God, the high priests come for him, Mary loves him (although she says she doesn't know how, but I think she manages nonetheless), Judas betrays him, Peter denies him, Pilate wants no part of him, Herod taunts him, and they crucify him (they left the resurrection out, but I went on a Friday. If I go again on Sunday, will it be there?).  But it just seemed... weird. The presentation and the music was so jarring. If it's intentional, like the dancers' entrance, I don't get why. And the title track - how can Judas sing about 4 B.C. when it's still B.C.? And "if [he'd] come today he could have reached a whole nation", but what "today" is he talking about? In Judas's time, it was "today". 

And at the end, after we've just seen this man physically beaten, abandoned, and killed on the cross, he comes out, takes Judas's hand and bows (wait, was that the resurrection?). It reminded us of a performance of Merchant of Venice where Shylock dies a broken man and then the actor comes out with the rest of the cast to do a happy dance number. Just weird. 

One last observation I had while the curtain with the giant logo was down before the show. Why does the logo look like a double angel door knocker with a poop emoji stuck to it? Now you can't unsee it, can you?

2/5: would probably not see again

And again, as a thank you for reading this far, here's a picture of Horatio:

January 20, 2022 - Get out of My Dreams, Doug Judy

The other morning I overslept and was freaking out until I realized Doug Judy (Craig Robinson's character on Brooklyn 99) had messed with my alarm. When I went to his room, which until now had been Horatio's room, I saw that he changed his clock, too, so I had no idea what time it was at all. Not cool, Doug Judy. Not cool.

As the day went on, when Jessy and I were in the kitchen, I looked down to see a promotional stand for Loverboy's new jukebox musical. Jessy told me to put it in the basement room where we keep the Grogu pinball game. It's also where we keep the U.S. women's Olympic hockey team's jerseys. Except when I opened the drawer, only two jerseys remained because Doug Judy gave them away. Dammit, Doug Judy, knock it off!

Anyway, here's a picture of Horatio pounding some water.