D just survived a semester teaching sixth graders, what is he gonna do next?

December 22, 2007

So, Friday Red turned into Saturday Orange Juice when D felt those telltale signs of a post-stressful semester cold as soon as he got out of school on Friday. Sucks how your body’s idea of a trade for protecting you while you really didn’t have time to spare is often to let you get zapped as soon as you could be having fun w/ your free time.

Still, with a little caution thrown to the wind and some help from our Netflix queue, we are making the sniffles into sniffle-ade and catching up on some stuff, which so far hasn’t included the massive amount of cleaning we haven’t been doing, but there’s time…

First off, we finally went to No Country for Old Men last night, and were as thoroughly impressed as we expected to be  after the rave reviews from all sides, except for Stephanie Z on Salon who I think we can now all safely declare a true hata. Many intelligent things have been said about No Country, so I won’t try to add anything, but I did find it an interesting example of a little game we liked to play in southern lit called “how would this have fared in workshop?” In particular, I was struck by how the script (which D tells me is composed largely of dialogue lifted straight out of the book) never really felt the need to settle on a single register of language. You had the pop culture (“I work at the Walmart”) mixed with the mythic (pretty much anything said by Tommy Lee Jones… can’t remember an example word for word enough to type, something would get lost) mixed with the more or less completely silly (“hells bells, sheriff!). And I’d say it worked nicely, and there were a lot more laughs than I was expecting. So, that was interesting. Also, I’m definitely in the camp of this movie being all about Iraq… I’m pretty sure that camp exists… but as we saw with The Wind That Shakes the Barley, I tend to find those parallels fairly often.

Today, we got through the first disc of Lost season 3, which is crack.

Then, b/c I’m trying to make season 4 of The Wire last as long as possible and saving Mr. Damon and his Ultimatum for later on in the break when long periods of time in family members’ living rooms may need to get filled, we perused the movies for free on demand with our cable, and found that Carrie was available. I just read the book this summer, and I have to say I really liked it (I am generally a fan of Stephen King though). Some parts of the movie haven’t aged all that well, but Sissy Spacek’s performance as Carrie is still perfect, and like Black Christmas, it reminded me that we’ve done a bunch of backsliding when it comes to popular movies. First off, Carrie opens with a girls’ locker room scene that has more full frontal nudity than I’ve ever seen in a movie… kind of weird, but realistic given the setting. Second, all of the actresses playing hot chicks in this movie would look heavy by today’s standards–not a stick among them. They are all slim, but none of them remotely have thighs that narrow toward the torso or skeleton arms. Third, it takes a kind of dead on, unrepentant look at the inherent inanity and potential darkness in teenage life. When they pull the stunt that sets Carrie over the edge, finally, you completely believe they would do something like that–they are not spared from their own cruelty by suggestions that they have an excuse or a basically good nature.

In between, I have had the distinct pleasure of not letting D do anything for himself while he tries to recuperate. Most of the time he is so on top of things w/r/t cooking that I end up sitting on my bum and being needy, but not this time! I’m SJ on the spot with all of his OJ, kleenex, and ibuprofen needs, reminding him that no, a glass of wine would not be a good idea right now… or wait maybe it would! Busting out the  corkscrew now. The only thing I didn’t do was make him chicken soup–we’ve got too many leftovers to get through before we fly off to Michigan. Not even a cold can save you from leftovers around here.

Okay, I’m keeping my fingers crossed and wine glass full so that I don’t wake up tomorrow having what he’s having.


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