Finish the Sentence Friday "My Favorite Movie Is..."

 I have  a lot of favorite movies, and couldn't begin to get it down to just one, and would even try. Here is a selection of my favorites:

Oldest Favorite Movie: The Wizard of Oz
Of course it is.  For kids of my pre cable, pre DVD/VCR/DVR generation it was the yearly ritual of rituals, a movie we saw over and over until we knew it by heart. It is the only movie that I cannot remember the first time I saw it, but I do remember the first time I saw it in color.  I was about 7, my grandma had a new color TV, and I was taken to her house to watch.  The moment when Dorothy open the door and sepia Kansas turns into Oz is the moment I realized what movie magic was.

Favorite movie for a good cry: At one time in my life it was Terms of Endearment, but more recently its either Field of Dreams or Ghost.  I can land on the last 10 minutes of either film and bawl my eyes out. (I am such a sucker for sentiment.) And speaking of tear jerkers:

First movie I knew was a great film: How Green Was My Valley
It was a stormy summer day and I sat out on our screened in front porch and watched one of the most beautifully photographed and acted films I had ever seen.  I didn't know anything yet about John Ford or any of the great actors who appeared in the film, or that it was over 25 years old, let alone the still lingering controversy for many that this film beat out Citizen Kane for Best Film at the Oscars.  At the age of 10 or so, I knew I was watching a great movie, and it is a favorite to this day. Citizen Kane has snappy dialogue and great camera angles, but I bawl my eyes out when I watch How Green was my Valley, because it has a heart.  And it launched my lifelong love affair with Roddy McDowall, who was probably the best child actor to become and adult actor ever.

Favorite scary Movie: Psycho
This is a crowded field, because I love scary movie. (Easy on the blood and gore though folks) Psycho beat out Les Diaboliques, Legend of Hell House, & a lot of films starring Boris Karloff and Christopher Lee.  But Psycho is the best.  Every time I watch it I am amazed how Hitchcock misleads the audience anywhere he wants them to go.  I am in awe of Anthony Perkins and especially the often overlooked Janet Leigh.  She projects a certain good girl conflicted by carnal desires in a lot of films, but never better than hear. When her cold fish boyfriend (who can't marry her cause he still has an ex wife to pay for ) says they can live together in his hardware store and she can lick the stamps on the alimony checks and Janet says "I'll lick the stamps" its about the sexiest thing anyone ever said on film.

Favorite Bad Movie: Plan 9 from Outer Space.
I love Tim Burton's Ed Wood but the only problem is that Mr Burton is far too talented to make his version of Ed's films look as bad as the originals.  It just can't be done. There is something surrealistically fascinating about all Ed Wood's films, but nothing like the one that made his name and fame in bad film polls everywhere. Whenever I find someone who likes bad horror/sci-fi films the way I do who hasn't seen Plan 9 I have them over for a viewing.  It must be seen to be believed.

Favorite Movies to quote: Ghostbusters, Men in Black & Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Everyone in my house quotes Ghostbusters.  My own favorite is "If a creature asks you if you you're a god, you say "Yes".  The Girl had a button made for me that says this last summer.  The kids also love all 3 MiB films, and dialogue from them turns up a lot too.  The Girl really doesn't quite get Python yet, but the rest of us love them, especially Grail, Lines like, "We found a witch may we burn her?" "Bring out your dead" and of course "What is the Air Speed of a coconut laden swallow" have been heard. In fact when I am at work on the 911 lines trying to extract info from callers I often feel like Tim the Wizard, "What is your name?" "What is your quest?" "What is your favorite color?"


Gotta pick one favorite movie: To Kill a Mockingbird
OK push come to shove, this might be the most nearly perfect movie ever made. Probably the best adaptation of a Great American Novel, you can actually read the screenplay and feel like you are reading the book,  Perfectly photographed, amazing score. Most of the actors with exception of Gregory Peck were simply veteran character actors, the kids were plucked from auditions, all of the casting is perfect, especially a very young Robert Duvall in his film debut. I can't say anything original about Gregory Peck in this role, but I will say it anyway. Its the perfect merging of actor and role, and he clearly knows it as he is playing it. You would take him for your dad or your lawyer.  He is the embodiment of a heroic idealism that America has for the most part long since abandoned, which is maybe why the movie seems to have been rediscovered lately. In 1998 when the AFI did its countdown of the best films of all time, it finished 34th, In 2007 it was 25th. But in 2003 when they picked the best heroes and villains, Atticus Finch topped the list. He tops mine too. And I can watch this great movie again and again.


Want to know about other bloggers favorite films? Want to write about your own favorites. Then go check out Finish the Sentence Friday.

Not Making Way for Ducklings....

It was one of my son's favorite books as a child: Make Way For Ducklings.
We were first introduced to the book by my New England born sister in law.  It tells the story of Mrs. Mallard and her dangerous journey across a 1930's era Boston with 8 ducklings in tow, from the Charles River to the Boston Public Gardens, when they can frolic around the lake being  fed popcorn by the tourists in the  swan boats.  Along the way the entire
Boston PD turns out to block all the intersections for the Mallard family.
The book is a classic, a medal winner, with witty text and beautiful illustrations.
 
For years I read it to the Boy, and later his sister, nearly every night.  Just as I can still recite all of Goodnight Moon without looking at the book, I also have the Mallard family's name imprinted on my brain: Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack.

When the Boy was small we made several trips to Boston where we rode the swan boats and he happily played on the statues of Mrs Mallard and family that still march into the Public Garden.

However I have come to the conclusion that this book is dangerous, as it seems to have given the public a mistaken idea of the police and fire departments' role in dealing with animals. Especially, in this case, ducks and geese.

This time of year we often have ducks and geese choosing to nest in the city.  Eventually they, like Mrs Mallard, will attempt to migrate their hatchlings to the nearest body of water. Unfortunately this often involves marching across busy streets or even major highways. 

Bring on the 911 calls. 

"9-1-1? You need to get someone out here on the expressway. There's a family of ducks trying to get across the road and one of these cars is going to kill them."

Politely I (or my coworkers) explain that we have no one to go fetch the ducks. The animal warden only deals with dogs and cats, the police and fire department only deals with people.  Wild ducks, moreover, tend to object strongly to being picked up and moved, which could cause injury to whatever good Samaritan tried to help them along,  Meanwhile it isn't feasible to close down a major highway till Spring is over. 

Most people say they understand and hang up, but some people get downright hostile when we explain that we can't help the baby ducks.  We get accused of wasting the taxpayers money (but can you imagine what would happen if we arrived late to a bank robbery because we were rescuing ducks?)

By the way, before you ask, there are no cat skeletons in trees either.  They really will come down before they starve.

Here is what I find really sad.  It becomes very clear during these calls that many people are far more distressed by animals in danger than people in danger.  I loved animals very much, but their safety is not  generally a higher priority than that of people. This especially includes the officers and firemen who can get injured trying to perform such rescues.  And especially not animals that are dumb enough to camp out on the interstate. 

We're not making way for ducklings.....

 

This post is part of the I don't like Mondays Blog Hop. Lots of awesome people post to it each week, or stop by and read all the posts, and you should too. Click on the link and check it out.

May is the Cruelest Month

I have decided that Chaucer was wrong. If you are the parent of school age children, May is the cruelest month.  It is nothing but 31 days of reminders that our babies are growing up.

Usually moms at least get the consolation of Mother's Day, but I got up early in the morning of the second Sunday in May this year so I could accompany my husband while he dropped our daughter off at the middle school for the 8th grade trip to Washington, DC.  That's my baby, off on her first major trip without any family members along. Then after dropping by to say my  mom for a few hours, I spent the rest of the day helping my son finish his final Senior English project. (The word "final" has such, well, finality about it, when you are the mother of a Senior.)

This is the last month of school for the kids, or at least the last month they are doing any real work.  There is nothing like the end of each school year to remind you how fast your children are growing. You put that last report card and the ribbon from the honors assembly into their scrapbook, and are reminded how much time has passed since September, let alone since you pasted that first kindergarten picture on the cover.

The Girl is promoting to high school next year.  She auditioned for, and was admitted to the high school performing arts program for orchestra.  This is a good thing, and very exciting, but it means she will be going to a different high school than all but a few of her friends next year, and she has been with some of these kids since she started grade school.  So all of her 8th grade activities and field trips are colored by her thoughts that this will be the last time she does these things with her friends. 

May is an even crueler month when you child is a High School Senior.  As I write this the Boy is finishing up his last day of exams.  There is much to look forward to, with his summer job and his fall college both lined up, and yet his days too are filled with melancholy reminders: school projects, final exams, final assemblies and more.  Last weekend was prom. A year ago he looked like a kid playing dress up in the tuxedo, this year he looks grown up
and dignified, even if he doesn't feel that way. 

The real gut-wrencher  for both of us was last night, when the Boy played his last home game.  He has been playing baseball since kindergarten, and except for a road game that we won't be able to attend, this was it.  In a reasonably happy ending that I couldn't have invented (but wished awfully hard for) he caught the whole game, got two clean hits, and his team won, for only the second time this season.  He was walking away, but at least he walked away happy. 

There is a genuine bereavement in all this I think.  Now matter how much we look forward to their future adventures (they are after all becoming the adults we raised them to be), we are losing the babies we cuddled and the children we nurtured and the teens were mentored.  We mourn what we leave behind, even as we anticipate tomorrow.

I Taught My Kids to Use Public Transit

As regular readers of my blog have probably noticed, I am a non-driver.  When I was young we never had the extra money for drivers' ed, or the added insurance, or any of the other expenses of driving to learn.  Later when I tried I realized I just couldn't.  My husband on the other hand, grew up in the country where the only public transit was a school bus, and people drove everywhere because everything was miles away.  During those times when the car was sitting in the driveway awaiting repairs, I was in far better shape than he was. When the kids came along I was determined to make sure they knew how to function in both city and country.

 Leaving dad to deal with the driving end, I began teaching my kids how to get around the city.  We didn't just board the bus, I explained where we were going and how we were getting there. The Boy's first word was "bus". He referred to my sister's minivan as "My aunt's bus." This  detailed oriented child knew where every bus in the city went by the time he was 6.  He knew the entire timetable for our local buses too.  My daughter, while not as fond of buses as her brother, knew how to get the bus to and from school when necessary, and happily went along with me when the alternative was staying at home.

When she complained occasionally about my non driving, I pointed out that a girl who wants to be in a dance company someday should probably know how to get around on public transit in a big city, since that's where most of the dance companies are.

It wasn't just the city buses either.  We have taken numerous trips by both Amtrak and Greyhound, and when arriving in a strange city have figured out how to make the transit work there too.  They know how to take shuttle buses from big cities to smaller towns, and how to get around a really big city on subways.  Other than the initial haul all the gear trip to the college, he will probably make his own way back and forth all year.

Both kids plan to relocate to other areas of the country someday. The boy is going off to college to a suburban town an hour out of a really big city.  He already has worked out all the available public bussing options, from how to get to Walmart to how to get to the Greyhound terminal.  The girl already has her eyes on the bright lights and the big cities. She will know all about how to get around. 

There is this as well:  I believe that driving the way Americans drive at present is not going to be sustainable for the next generation.  Gas is only going to be more expensive, greenhouse gasses more of a concern.  If our kids can learn there are alternatives to taking the car 1/2 a mile to the grocery store, they will be far better prepared to adapt in the future.

I taught my kids to use public transit and I am proud (and glad) that I did.

This post is part of Theme Thursday, a group of bloggers writing on a different topic each week.  This week we were asked to write about something we are proud of.  To find out what other writers are proud of, or to tell about something you are proud of, click on the link below.

Express yourself--What Celebrity would You Like to Meet?

The Express Yourself blog hop is asking  this week what celebrity we would most like to meet.   Restricting myself to those who are still inhabiting this plane of existence,  I decided I would like to meet Jon Stewart. (Ideally I would be on the Daily Show promoting a book that I had written, but that may be asking too much of a single wish). I would love to talk politics with him, or anything else as well, because the man can converse.  I realize there are writers on the Daily Show who help him sound funny, but they can't script the quickwittedness and depth of knowledge that he displays in interviews as either questioner or subject.

What could be more perfect. A smart and witty guy my own age to talk things over with. (I know, I just described my hubby too, but I digress)

As a rule, even when the stories are being played for laughs, the basic info is still true. And although the show does seem to skew to the left at times, he has been known to dismantle liberals just as thoroughly as conservatives.
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Moreover he brings a genuine feeling of liberal humanist passion to what he does. The viewer gets a feeling he truly cares that Congress is stalemated and the sky is falling. And when he takes his satirical edge to something he truly cares about, from medical insurance for NYC 1st responders to hurricane relief the satire is delivered with passion and conviction. Just watch his hilarious and heartbreaking response to the September 11th tragedy .

So when my wish is granted I get to sit across the shiny black table from Jon while we drink coffee out the huge TDS coffee mugs. We have a few laughs, and some intelligent conversation. What more could anyone want?


This post is part of the  Express Yourself weekly meme, a group of bloggers writing on the same topic. Please click on the link to check out some more amazing writers.

How I Spent My Mothers' Day

I started my Mothers' Day by getting up at 1am so my husband and I could deliver the Girl to her school for their 8th grade trip to Washington.  Like many children, it was to be her first long trip without any family members along. She was the usual teenaged combination of blasé and excited when we bid her goodbye.  The bus pulled up at 3am and 40 sleepy 13 and 14 year olds climbed on board. 

Then we stumbled back home for a few hours of sleep. 

I got back up around 7 to get some blogging and other routine maintenance done on the computer before the Boy got up.  He had a major school project to finish on Sunday which would require a lot of computer time, so I needed to be done on the Internet before came down.

I had just gotten finished when a virus warning popped up on my computer.  Not from my virus software, mind you, but some other company that claimed to have found a virus, and would happily install their software to my computer.  It would take hours to fully debug the computer. The only solution was to truck on over to my mom's house, where one of my tech savvy nephews could provide the use of their computers.

Now I had planned to stop by and see my mom of course. I hadn't planned to have to stay for 6 hours while the Boy wrote the final draft of his autobiography in 18 topic specufic chapters. (I kid you not: Places I have Lived, My Family Tree, Crushes, and so on. Each on a fall page or more, plus pictures.) When ee arrived my nephews were preparing a Mothers' Day breakfast for their mom and grandma, so at least I got in on that deal.

We gat home around 6:30. My lovely husband had made one of my gavorite meals, Chicken Paprikash. The Boy still had to attach all the pictures and assemble the report. The computer had finally finished debugging so I searched the picture files for additional photos he needed, while the Boy pasted them in.

Finally it was done, juat in time to take his sister's evening call from her trip. (She had been to Mt Vernon, Ford's Theatre, and a bunch of monuments and was having a great time.)


About 9pm while the Boy was pasting the pictures I was printing into his memory book, he looked up at me and said, "You know mom, somehow I have a feel that this is how you would like to spend your Mothers' Day."
You know Son, I have a feeling you are right. The best way, at least for me, to celebrate Mothers' is to do Mom stuff.

These Amazing Moms!

I have been a lucky mom.  The kids have been basically healthy and intelligent.  Both have decent tempers and lots of interests. No learning disabilities or serious medical issues, So when I am complimented on my often charming, smart, and good natured children I often want to say, Thank you, but I've been lucky.

I know I have been lucky, because I count among my friends and family, persons who have faced multiple crisis among their children and gone soldiering on.  Some of them have been dealing that from the moment they laid eyes on their children.  Others rose to the moment when confronted with a crisis.  Either way the are the moms who have gone above and beyond, and its to them I dedicate this Mother's Day post.

One of my friends I have known all my life. Unable to have children, she and her husband adopted a whole family of siblings who had previously been abused.  There were both ups and downs in such a situation as one can well imagine. A few years ago she had to take custody of several grandchildren, all preschool age or younger, the youngest an infant. She works full time while doing this.  When I asked her about the load she said "I never go to parent a baby, and now I do. I enjoy it." She is amazing.

Another mom has had her ups and downs in life.  Burdened with a lot of family issues, she nonetheless tried to make up for it with her own kids. When one of them developed a life threatening illness she went into mama bear mode, co ordinating his life and needs without losing track of spouse or other kids.  Meanwhile she lifts others with her awesome sense of humor, even though many of the others don't deal with half of what she does.  Another amazing mom.

My third amazing mom has three kids, the youngest one with autism.  She endlessly advocates for her youngest (as well as the others) with school systems and doctors.  Indeed she was the one who got him diagnosed, after the family doctor told her his speech delays were due to his siblings doing everything for him. She knew something was wrong and found the specialist who backed her up, so he could get the early intervention he needed.  Again, another amazing mom.

And I know yet another mom. This one also has 3 children, 2 of whom have special needs, one with a chromosome disorder, and the other a crippling youth illness.  The third is a dancer who commits to many classes and rehearsals weekly.  She maneuvers through all this, plus extra curricular and school events, and at times has home schooled her kids when necessary.  Meanwhile she a go to person for at least half a dozen civic organizations for kids. Another amazing mom.

And I'm not done yet! I know another mom, who has had many ups and downs in life. She lost her dad as a child and her mom just after her first child was born. She lost a husband in a car wreck a few months after the wedding.  She often wound up being the only parent around and yet she raised four fine children, despite money worries and debilitating arthritis.
No one I have ever met rolls with life's punches as she does.

Now none of these moms set out to be amazing, and I'm sure all of them would prefer more normal lives.  But all have rolled with life's punches and come up shining.  I am inspired by them, and so many others as well.
I wish them, and you, and my mom too a great Mothers' Day.

The Talk

It was a talk I didn't want to have, but knew I needed to.   I was sitting in the living room watching TV with the kids when yet another news break about the horror story of captivity and rape in Cleveland came on the air.  When the kids were younger I would have changed the channel but not anymore.  They are old enough to understand what I need to say about this.

My daughter is not quite 14, close to the age of one of the victims.  I say to her, "Do you know what happened to those girls?" "They were kidnapped" she said. "They all accepted rides with him. I know not to take rides from strangers. " "Did you know that one of the girls knew him, was friends with his daughter, probably thought she could trust him because he was her friends dad?" No she hadn't heard that.  Don't take rides from even a friend's parent unless there are other kids in the car. And you called me and I said it was OK.  Or I called you and said that person was picking you up. This man's own family had no clue of what was going on.  No one knows everything about another person. If you don't know what to do, do what is safe."

I hate to have to say all this. I hate the thought that she may one day reject someone who truly does mean well, truly wants to help her.  But there are very few people one can trust in every aspect of ones life.  And the sooner she understands that, the safer she will be.

Its not a happy talk, but if we are to be responsible parents, its a talk we must have.

The Theme Thursday topic for this week was Good Samaritans.  Another week I hope to write a lovely post about the kindnesses done for me and by me with no thought of reward.  But this week when I sat to write I could only think how this man perverted the impulse to trust the Samaritans among us, and left me having to have this conversation with my trusting and altruistic child.  One more little sorrow among the greater ones in this story.

The Other May 4th

Yesterday was the 4th of May, popularly known among many, especially on the Internet, as Star Wars Day. I set out to write a Star Wars blog, expressing my fondness for the first three films (chronologically speaking of course, I actually refer to episodes 4, 5, and 6) particularly episode 5 and Yoda, plus the fact that Star Wars was my first introduction to Joseph Campbell and The Hero with a Thousand Faces.

But I can't even write the words May 4th, without something completely different coming to mind.  If you are my age or older and especially if you spent the 70's in Northeastern Ohio you may feel as I do.

The spring of 1970 was filled with protests against the Vietnam War especially on college campuses.  Kent State University in May of that year was no exception.  There is no denying things had gotten totally out of hand, buildings were being damaged and even destroyed. The governor of the  state ordered the National Guard into Kent.  On May the 4th, at 1224 in the afternoon, under circumstances that remain murky to say the least, 67 shots were fired at a crowd of students, killing 4 and wounding a number of others. 

Kent State is only about 15 miles from where I grew up, and naturally the media coverage was intense.  Even at 10 there was no getting away from awareness of what had been going on. As a matter of fact, the local paper, the Akron Beacon Journal, won a Pulitzer Prize for its coverage of events; so a thorough accounting was coming right to our house every afternoon.

The events at Kent State influenced a lot of the rest of my youth.  When we studied civil disobedience and protest it was with an added knowledge that things could go wrong.  Many people I knew who remembered that time developed a distrust of government beyond the usual cynicism of the Vietnam Era.  Others, however, adopted a new idealism, feeling that it fell to them to carry on the protests.  A lot of people who were teens in the era would become the leaders of other protest movements later. I don't think that anyone, however, who remembered those times will hear the words May 4th and not think, however briefly, of those days in 1970.

I'm going to leave the parting words to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, and a great song.

 

 

Who do you want to be?

This week's  media outburst over Jason Collins' public acknowledgement that he is gay is fascinating.  It was good to see so many public figures including the president and first lady of the united states, and the commissioner of the NBA react with positive support. The more disheartening responses were out there too, full of homophobia and hatred.   And it set me to thinking about the long journeys that minorities of any kind make from outcast to acceptance.

I was a teenager in the 70's which is when a lot of issues related to gay rights began to be raised. Once I was old enough to understand the issues, I don't remember having any questions or doubts.  It just made perfect sense to me that people should be with the people they loved, regardless of the orientation. One of my dearest friends from high school was gay, though he didn't come out to me till some time later.  I don't think it would have mattered if he had though.  Later in college, I studied theatre, Although the stereotype isn't entirely true, I certainly made a lot of gay and lesbian friends. By the end of my college years the AIDS crisis had begun to emerge. (Took me 10 years to get my BFA.  A different long story.) Its effect was both embattling and empowering. I'm proud this is  one issue that I was way ahead of the curve on.

I have observed that with many controversial issues, it often seems that the most poisonous statements come from a minority who don't seem to realize that the majority has passed them by. Its not the first time that has happened in this country, of course.

Monday night, when #jasoncollins was trending all over twitter, a few tweets caught my eye. In one case someone had  commented to Keith Olberman that everyone has a right to their opinion. His response stuck with me. Yes, he said, everyone has an opinion. Just like Dixie Walker had an opinion. Sixty years from now do you want to be Dixie Walker or Pee Wee Reese?

For those who aren't baseball fans or didn't see the movie 42, a quick summary:  When Jackie Robinson broke into the big leagues, not everyone was welcoming (to say the least).  Dixie Walker was a member of the Dodgers who tried to organize a petition to keep Robinson off the team. He was soon traded.  Pee Wee Reese, even though they were initially competing for the same position, publicly supported Robinson, going so far as to stand beside him on with his arm over Robinson's shoulder when he was booed in Cincinnati. He didn't have to do this. The  stands moreover, were filled with fans from his native Kentucky.  But he felt it was the right thing to do. He has gone down  in sports history, as the gold standard for a person in his position: a great player, but a greater person.

If you discuss gay  rights with younger persons, high school or college age let's say, you will find that this is a non issue to most of them, much as the race of our classmates and friends was a non issue to many people of my generation. They are astounded that anyone has a problem at all, I am sure my grandchildren will be appalled by homophobic attitudes in the way that persons of my times are appalled (I hope we're all appalled) by racism and anti Semitic slurs . I hope they know that I was never one of those people, and that I  raised their parents not to be also.

At the end of the day you have to ask yourself, who do I want to be? And the end of your life,  what sort of person do you wish to be remembered as?