Archive Page 119

Of local interest

Published May 9, 2008 local 4 Comments

Maybe.  At least to me it is.  I am so furious about this whole Brittany Zimmerman/911 debacle that my head is about to explode.  This tragedy has been made only worse by the County’s reaction to the possibility that they may have really screwed up.  How hard is it to admit wrongdoing?  Why is everyone so afraid of it?  I am so angry with Kathleen Falk for not firing John Norwick that I will not vote for her again.  Well, we all know I probably wouldn’t have anyway, given what she did to Peg and the people of Wisconsin.  But this is really it.  As in most grand-scale debacles, it’s not the actual mistake that has me so angry (that has me incredibly sad), but it’s the cover-up.  How dare he say that no apology is necessary?  And how dare he act as if the police couldn’t have done anything with the information in the phone call?  And what about this whole sending the police on a wild goose chase while they pursued the callers who called the 911 center after Brittany?  This is really a royal mess and I just wish someone would stand up and take some responsibility for it.

And the thing is, this is so damn common.  If Clinton had just admitted to the affair, there would have been no impeachment.  I’m not sure the same can be said for the whole Watergate fiasco, but it was certainly escalated in its severity due to the cover-up.  And Sarayu, you know how I feel about your cover-ups.  Geesh, folks, let’s just learn from this and, when caught, admit what we’ve done. 

On another note, how insulting is it that Otto’s keeps posting for a server position several times over months now when they pretended they were going to hire me and didn’t? 

Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dreams

Published May 1, 2008 life and pups 12 Comments

Red, gold and green.  Red, gold and green.

On the way home from book club tonight — hosted so nicely by Jen — Boy George came on Charlie and I was truly moved.  I just love that song.  I think it’s really something.  I feel like BG was really onto something when he sang, “Would you say, I’m a man without conviction, I’m a man who doesn’t know How to sell a contradiction, You come and go, You come and go.”  For me, this means that the guy thinks his lover thinks he’s kinda lost and flaky, but he’s in love with this person that’s into him and then not into him.  And sometimes I feel like we could all be that guy.  You come and go, you come and go.  We’re often clicking on all cylinders and then the next day it’s just OFF.  You know?  We’re in synch and in love and giddy with glee and then it’s, “Who are you and why don’t you know me? And why are you doing this?”  There’s so much mystery involved in love.

Or is there.  I suppose it’s really not that complicated.  It’s just that people are complicated and maybe not linear and not always rational and emotions are so hard to explain and define.  Loving would be easy if the colors were like my dreams.  Meaning, I think, love would be easy if you would just do pretty much exactly what I want all the time without me having to explain it.

But that doesn’t work.  And love is hard.  Being kind, though, shouldn’t be.  And I hope very much to be kind. 

How about a nice game of chess?

Published April 24, 2008 movies 19 Comments

The other night, I watched War Games.  I’ve probably seen it a hundred times, but it really hits me every time.  Not that globalthermonuclear war is a bad idea, or that hacking into computers can mean big trouble, or even that just because your son Joshua died doesn’t mean you should give up on the living, but that 80s movies are so great!!!  Why is it that no one makes movies like this anymore?  As most of you know, I was really enamored of Kevin Williamson (Dawson’s Creek, Scream) for awhile because I felt like he was breathing new life into the genre that had been dormant for some time.  But I haven’t seen anything from him for awhile now and even John Hughes couldn’t do it alone.  So, let’s reminisce and dissect what makes 80s movies, like Some Kind of Wonderful, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, The Karate Kid, Can’t Buy Me Love, Say Anything, Footloose, War Games, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Dirty Dancing, St. Elmo’s Fire, & The Breakfast Club so great:

(1) great dialogue.  Who can forget lines like, “What’s the president of the Young Democrats doing working for a Republican senator?” “Moving up.”  Or, “Where’s your brain?” “Why’d you kick me?” “Where’s your brain?” “Why’d you kick me?”  Or, “Joe lies.  Joe lies.  Joe lies, when he cries.”

(2) social issues.  From Footloose’s commentary on censorship and book burning, to Pretty in Pink’s take on class issues, to War Games full-on assault on the Cold War, no one has been able to combine super cheesy fun with social issues like teen 80s movies.

(3) great romance.  This one’s a bit complicated because there are a couple of patterns these movies tend to have in this department.  There’s the best friend syndrome, which worked out well for Mary Stuart Masterson with Eric Stoltz, but not so great for Jon Cryer with Molly Ringwald.  But Andrew McCarthy’s gaze at Molly Ringwald at the end of Pretty in Pink could melt Lake Monona in January.  Then there’s just sort of the easy relationship Ally Sheedy and Matthew Broderick had, which was cute.  Then there’s the beautiful girl falls for the nerdy guy, but the nerdy guy is either Patrick Dempsey or John Cusack.

(4) memorable names.  Ren McCormick.  Amanda Jones.  Blaine, Steph, Andie & Duckie.  Ferris Bueller.  Cameron & Sloane.  Lloyd Dobler & Diane Court.  Jake Ryan.  Daniel-son.

(5) soundtracks.  This one obviously needs no explanation.

What else?  I feel like there’s a lot more to say on this topic and I know I left off a lot of folks’ fave movies  — like Real Genius & Better Off Dead & Flashdance, but Flashdance never really did it for me and I don’t know what to do with Val Kilmer.  Hmm.  I think I need to give this some more thought.

 

Bedbugs

Published April 21, 2008 travel 10 Comments

So, Rose got married this weekend.  It was truly a beautiful wedding.  The weather was nice and the ceremony was outdoors, very close to an alpaca!  [Speaking of which, let’s not forget the alpaca festival is this weekend!] My heels kept sinking into the wet ground, but I’m pretty sure that didn’t affect the ceremony.  It was short and sweet, with homemade vows and Rose looking so lovely.  Her hair is exceptionally cute — sassy and fun.  The dress was gorgeous — one of those classic strapless numbers with the beautiful satin ribboning around it.  You know what I’m talking about?  Anyway, Rose was, of course, gorgeous.  The bridesmaids’ dresses were a rich chocolate with really stunning rhinestone broaches.  I was really feeling the broaches.  I think Ellen, Rose’s sister, worried I was going to steal hers as she covered it up with a cute wrap after I mentioned how much I liked it. 

Anyway, the ceremony was just perfect and afterwards, we all went inside to the barn, which was decorated with pretty white lights and sunflower centerpieces.  The hors d’oeuvres were delicious — bruschetta, hummus, almonds, cheese & crackers — very Mediterranean and yumsville.  There was a copious amount of wine, which I thoroughly enjoyed.  The speeches were sweet, funny and heartfelt — exactly what you want at a wedding.  The dinner was really amazing — the Michigan salad was outrageously good and the grilled veggies were doused with yummy yummy olive oil and my beef tenderloin was grand.  Really, it was all so pretty and perfect.

I was lucky enough to be able to sit next to the star of the show, or at least when she was able to sit down.  As I remember from my own wedding, there’s not a lot of slow periods at the show when you’re the bride.  I watched to make sure she at least got something to eat, but she was up and circulating, it seemed, before she had more than a sip of her champagne.  Oh, Rose!  Such a great bride.

The best part may have been when Rosie said, “Where’s my husband?”  Not great because he was MIA for a moment, but great because it was so cute to hear.  And just as natural.

It was also great to see Claire, another old pal from Italy with whom I’d lost touch.  She was as fun and dynamic as ever and it was really great to be around a familiar and so-friendly face. 

This is really where the greatness of the weekend ends.  At around 10:30 I was ready to crash, so I decided to part ways with the DeLuca-Gollnitz crew and say goodbye to the Cobblestone Farm.  My chosen spot for the night, the Lamp Post Inn (which is a two-story, L-shaped motel with a pool like the one in Karate Kid), was about a half of a mile away so I was quickly in bed.  Before I hit the mattress, though, I needed to use the loo and the sink.  Normal bedtime behavior, I think.  This is when I discovered the toilet didn’t work in any way other than to serve as a receptacle and that turning on the water in the sink meant HUGE ants would crawl out of it, look me in the eye and ask me what I thought I was doing.  Ick!  I was really too tired to worry too much about it, so I curled up in bed — trying my hardest not to touch the bedspread as I shoved it off the bed.  Sleep came for awhile until around 2:30 am when I awoke to what had to be at least 30 twentysomethings screaming at the top of their lungs, blasting music out of their rooms, playing hackeysack in the parking lot and running up and down the cement hall.  This lasted for, I’d say, two hours.  I’ve really never seen anything like it.  I stared out my broken vertical blinds at the scene.  Doors were all open with folks sitting in the doorways, people were out and about talking and yelling, and everyone had at least one beer in their hand.  The place had really come alive.  I tried to go back to sleep and I must have, but I woke up at seven (six Wisco time), remembered the ants and packed up as quickly as I ever have.  I pretty much ran out the door, but was quickly stopped in my tracks by a totally freaky looking cat staring right at me.  I let out a pretty quiet scream and thought about what to do.  It started coming towards me.  I backed away.  It was standing between me and the stairs I needed to use to escape from the ants and the backed up toilet.  It walked towards the stairs.  I followed.  By this time I had told myself, “Kate, it’s a cat.  You are much bigger and somewhat brighter and just get out of here!”  So, I approached it as it guarded the stairs.  It arched its back and its gaze was now fierce.  I ran the other way, finding stairs on the other end of the motel.  I reached my car, threw my stuff in, drove off to the front desk, basically threw the key at the guy standing in the doorway, and didn’t stop until I hit Indiana. 

Well, not entirely true.  I got a coffee at a Shell station somewhere in western Michigan.  But, when I did make it home to Madison, I threw everything in the suitcase into the wash.  Everything except my toothbrush, which I threw in the garbage.  Ew!

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