Toy Story 3

The 3D aspect of this film was meaningless. The story was the ticket and it was an "E" ride. I went to see Toy Story 3 with my 10 year old son, Spencer, thinking that he would probably say it sucked and that I would catch some sleep behind the glasses--I've never been happier to be proven wrong. It isn't really that TS3 departed so sharply from the other fine films in the series, as much as it is that I may have forgotten how good those earlier films were. I was also reminded that reception of a film, physically and emotionally, depends on where you are and who you're with--no shit? In any case, I saw where this film was going with about 20 minutes left and didn't stop crying until the end. Spoiler Alert! The kid in the movie grows up, leaves his mom, sister and the toys (childhood) behind. I kept thinking of the 10 year old next to me growing up, leaving his toys, his room, his childhood, his father behind, and I wept. The film made me question, again, what role cinema plays in our lives. Does it instruct us, reflect our behavior, provide us a cathartic experience? TS3 with Spencer in tow did all of the above, even if I did have to pay extra for the glasses.

World Kup

I just got done watching the viral video that someone sent to Landon Donovan, which showed a montage of fans in U.S. bars, streets and living rooms reacting to his goal against Ghana that propelled the U.S. into the finals. After I got done crying (I cry in commercials), I asked myself why. Why am I crying from a viral video about a sport I've never played, though I have been watching the games? The answer is as immediate as a Spaniard's fall in response to the light touch of his opponent: I'm crying because we, the people of the United States, have nothing else. There is a pipe in the Gulf of Mexico that is currently spitting out the equivalent of an Exxon Valdez of oil a week into the ocean. 37 dying dolphins washed ashore today along the Gulf Coast. We have been in two wars for 8 years and our economy is third world. That's why the scenes of sheer joy in response to the scoring of a goal against a team from a country 1/100th the size of our own, which I have been a part of, look so much like a street scene from Calcutta on free lamb kabob day. We need this team like a liver transplant. It's as sad as it is wonderful.

Hong Kong

The picture says it all, really. Yes, I continue to be a child, long after I should be, with full intention, a child. Our week in Hong Kong was everything I could have hoped for. The city itself, equal parts amazing and terrifying (OZ and Blade Runner), provided so much stimuli that it has taken me this long to write about it, or perhaps I'm lazy. I mean it about that OZ and Blade Runner bit. HK is the furthest extent of consumer capitalism--Veblen would have a field day describing its conspicuous consumption. I have never seen so many Gucci, Prada, Rolex, etc. stores in such close proximity to each other. There were some places where you could see from one Prada to the next, and they are all busy. The millionaires of Hong Kong (a staggering 7% of the population) control 70% of the zone's wealth and it shows. For every Prada store, there are two or three high rise apartment buildings where life is undoubtedly less grand. In keeping with the Blade Runner model, the higher up you are in this city, the higher up you live. The streets are chaotic, small and crowded, and, in keeping with today's theme, the people speak a mix of English and Chinese that sounds like it came directly out of Blade Runner--or did BL come out of HK? In any case, the city is as much a wonder as a sign of the end times. We loved the food, the sights, the shopping at Temple Street's night market, the booze (there was plenty, the locals don't drink very much). I even got to love the Octopus, HK's transit system, and its crowded but efficient trains. I wasn't in love with the pollution, or its decided upon fix--surgical masks. I can only imagine what things are like on the less environmentally conscious mainland. But we weren't there for the booze, the trinket obtaining or even the sights. We were there to see a friend. I was there to spend time with two of my favorite people, who, despite my own dark visions of impending planetary doom, make me laugh and smile and want to go on living. I am reading Vonnegut's Welcome to the Monkey House again as I just assigned it for my incoming English 3 students. I like Vonnegut, whose characters keep finding ways to defy the coming new world order. He gives me hope, in the same ways that Julie and Robert do. That's the best thing I found in Hong Kong.