Author: moi

Stepford wives

So, I’m meeting a friend at the theatre on Saturday. We watch the movie and on the way out we chat about the Stepford Wives. We agree it’s creepy. We laugh. We part. I come back out to my car and parked next to me is a new Beetle. Now Beetles are usually friendly fellows – they tend to make you smile with just one look. This one, however, gave off an air of sinister. Why would you say such a thing? I will tell you why – because the whole back window was filled with mannequin heads. GASP! It was morbidly disturbing. So I did what any rational person would do – I took a picture. I ever-so-inconspicuously held up my cell phone, looked the other way, snapped the picture, jumped in my car and quickly drove away. Who knows what would have happened if I had stuck around …

Oh, and in case your wondering why said picture is not posted – here’s the thing: I got a new cell phone.  And I can’t figure out how to download.  Pitiful, I know.  Therefore, only close, personal friends get to view the alarming image – the rest of you must rely upon your imagination …

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (2008)

“Every woman will have her day”

Genre:  Comedy-Romance

The gist:  Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day is the story of a day in the life of Guinevere Pettigrew (Frances McDormand) – a dowdy, down-on-her-luck governess.  The daughter of a minister, Miss Pettigrew feels it her duty to speak her mind about her employee’s indiscretions, attempting to get them on the straight and narrow.  Needless to say, such “helpfulness” is not-so-very appreciated; when she is fired from her third assignment, the employment agency refuses to be of further service.  So she steals an assignment – becoming social secretary to Delysia Lafosse, an American actress.  Suddenly her life is anything but boring.  But it is her truthfulness and concerned meddling – the very things that got her in trouble in the first place – that will ultimately save the day. 

My take:  I LOVED this movie.  To anyone who has called me a throw-back … or even thought it … this will come as no surprise.  Set at the dawn of WWII England, I loved the setting, the styles, and the music.  That much is given.  But it’s so much more.  The story (based on the novel by Winifred Watson) is heartfelt; the screenplay (written by David Magee and Simon Beaufoy) simply charming.  Bharat Nalluri’s direction depicts life on the verge of WWII like a symphony; and the actors bring a hint of magic as witnessed in films of the golden era.  But that which holds it all together is the chemistry between Frances McDormand (Miss Pettrigrew) and Amy Adams (Delysia Lafosse).  Given the nature of the two parts, lesser actresses would have been little more than annoying.  Instead we are granted a rare glimpse at two opposing worlds – the carefree innocence of youth and the reserved wisdom of maturity.  And oh that we should be so lucky to have our own Miss Pettigrew touch our lives.        

An aside:  Yes, this movie is a chick-flick.  We had a pair of couples sitting behind us.  As we were leaving the theatre the “boys” were bemoaning the fact that they had to endure such agony.  The “girls” were of course trying to appease said boys by promising to go to 88 minutes on the next go around.  Of course, most of the comments from the peanut gallery came from the guys behind us.  And they were not snide remarks, I might add.  So whether they would ever – in a MILLION years – admit it, they too were engrossed in the film. 

Historical significance

According to www.on-this-day.com it’s important to note, on this day in history, nineteen-hundred-ninety-nine, Fabio was hit in the face by a bird during a promotional ride of a new roller coaster at the Busch Gardens theme park in Williamsburg, VA. Fabio received a one-inch cut across his nose. I kid you not. This is actually listed alongside the Eiffel Tower opening, Ford debuting its V-8 engine, and Germany beginning its counter-offensive in North Africa.

So here’s my question: What the?!!!

It’s not like comacazi fowl are unusual. Please. And theme parks?! Dangerous ground my friend, dangerous ground. I remember going to The Lagoon when I was young. There I was … sitting on a park bench with a friend … enjoying a snack or two … when I felt something plop-a-top my head. At first I thought it was a bird with gastric distress. But then I looked up. There they were.  Two boys.  Hovering well above my head they were laughing and pointing.  They thought they were hysterical–as boys so often do when they do something unbecoming, like spit on a girls head!  

Of course, as said girl, I can tell you boy spit was ten-times worse than bird poop could EVER be. I was ruined. Ruined.

Guess I should just be thankful that particular low-point did not make it on a list of historical events–at least none that I’m aware of …

Happy easter

 

“Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem.  They were talking with each other about everything that had happened…” – Luke 24:13-14

There they are–two of Christ’s followers–trudging the old dirt road leading to Emmaus. Kicking pebbles here and there, they keep their arms folded, their eyes downcast. They talk in despairing voices. How could they have killed Jesus? Did they not hear his teachings? Did they not see the miracles? Why did God let it happen? His own son! With the Savior dead and buried, what hope does Israel have now? And Judas! Don’t even get me started on Judas!

They’re so into their discussion they don’t even see the stranger now walking beside them. “What are you talking about?” He asks. Can’t you just see the twinkle in His eye? They stop walking; but they just can’t bring themselves to look up. The question doesn’t even merit a response. Don’t you know? The stranger shrugs, shakes his head, inquires further, and the floodgates open. They tell it all. Every wretched detail–His name was Jesus, they begin. They tell of his signs and wonders–how despite all His great words and deeds, their own rulers handed Him over to be sentenced to death. Only three days earlier, they explain, He was crucified on an old wooden cross. He died and was buried, along with their hope for salvation. Then, to top it all off, the women went to His tomb, found it empty, and now claim He has risen from the dead.

All this and Jesus was right before their eyes. How could they have missed Him?

How could we?

We know He rose from the dead–we’ve read the scriptures, heard the sermons, and sang the songs. Yet when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of life, we often live as though He were dead. We focus on our despair, we try to fix things ourselves, we try to carry the burden alone. All this when the one who walked before us–the one who understands the burden of this world more than anyone–who laughed and cried, who felt the joy of friendship and the pang of betrayal, who felt misunderstood, alone, and abandoned–He is not dead. He is risen; and He walks right beside us.

Tell me, He says. All we have to do is look up.

Up, up and away …

Anyone who knows me knows debacles of all sorts and varieties tend to abound when my mom and I travel together. For some reason, stories of said debacles seem to amuse friends and family. So I guess it’s only natural people would be begin to wonder about our last trip to Mexico. Got any weird stories?

For the record, our stay was quite ordinary, thank-you-very-much. We lounged on white sand beaches and sipped pina coladas and mango margaritas. We traveled to one of the new wonders of the world, where our poor gringa-selves nearly melted in the sun. We meandered through the shopping district and got fairly fluent in saying, “No, gracias.” Shop here! We are cheaper than Walmart. “No, gracias.” Do you want a free massage? “No, gracias.” Do you want a Mexican boyfriend … well, you get the idea …

And then we decided to parasail.

It was lovely. *sigh* As Dr. Seuss would say, “If you haven’t, you should, these things are fun, and fun is good!” Floating above a sea of blue, the world was at once peaceful and serene. Then we began to drift. It was hardly noticeable at first. But before we knew it we were looming large above some poor, unfortunate man minding his own business on the beach. His children, having run from the waves screaming and crying, each latched to a leg for dear life.

Normally I would have said something clever and witty, but two issues were taking precedence: 1) I was wondering how much of my white pasty butt was hanging out of the harness; and 2) we were getting dangerously close to a crag of rocks.

Luckily, the boat started moving again just in time. And we were floating up, up and away from the humiliation of it all.

Kinda like life, isn’t it?! Just when you think you’re about to get skewered on the crags of despair, the wind lifts your sails. All you got to do is hang in there. Chances are, when it’s all said and done, you’ll look back and say, it wasn’t so bad …

Oh look! There we are ...