Saturday at the Movies-Modern Shoot Em Up or Western?

Tough choice tonight: Whether to go see Appaloosa or Body of Lies. Which do you think I chose?

I agree fully with Roland Zwick when he said, "the characterizations are rich, the relationships complex and the performances authentic, the movie itself suffers from a bad case of inertia, loping along at an enervating pace when it should be racing ahead at a full-on gallop."

The friendship between Virgil Cole (Ed Harris) and Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) was convincing, deep and enjoyable to watch. Jeremy Irons rocks in any role, and how can you not love any character (Dean) played by Luce Rains.

If you want cinematography, this isn't the film to see (instead you can rent The Assassanation of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford or 3:10 to Yuma).

If you're a guy, I think you'll enjoy Appaloosa. If you are going out to see a movie, it is worth shelling out the bucks for this one.

How Dull It Is To Rust Unburnished

In one of my latest posts, my friend Robert wrote in the comments section, “And if I hear your right, the cycling is great for meditation” I’d like to clarify. What I meant was, I want to bleed. I want to be poured out in battle, to be all consumed by life. I remember even as a teen having the desire to push life, to live radically so that I could feel it. For instance, one of my favorite backpacking memories is a long trek over rocky cliffs in a cold and biting rain. Why? Because it pitted me against the wilderness, pushed me hard; made me feel, made me taste, made me fight.

As a teenager, I had a poster up in my room which quoted Ulysses, “…And drink delight of battle with my peers, far on the ringing plains of windy Troy,” “How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life…”

On occasion, the push for fight, the arousal for adventure is combined with a hunger, anger and drivenness that most have never seen in me. Perhaps its because I’m “Wild at Heart.” Perhaps there are deep longings which I want satisfied, but of which I can only glimpse here.

Whatever the cause, I remain drawn to such movies as The Princess Bride (“My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”), Tombstone (I’m coming, and Hell is coming with me”), Gladiator (“My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.”). You get the picture.

This deep longing and intensity manifests itself throughout my life. The way I drive (when alone), the way I run the coffee shop, the way I relate to people, the wine I like (red-Syrah), the beer I drink (can’t stand all those wimpy ones….Bud, Michelob, Miller). Quoting Ulysses again, “I will drink life to the lees."

So, no, bicycling is not a place for meditation. Bicycling is a place to push hard…..pit myself against the elements…and bleed a little.
“I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart….”

Jason Bourne Meets Knott's Berry Farm

Jason Bourne can fight and overcome a lot of things, but there is one thing that could put him over-the-edge….a day at the amusement park. If you’ve seen the movie, or are familiar with the genre, you know he gets beat up, wrecked up, shot up, kicked up and all without a crack up. Last week while watching the movie I kept thinking, “Man, is he ever going to hurt in the morning.” But as I sit here typing; my bruised and battered body full of Advil, I can testify that I’ve overcome greater things than Jason Bourne.

I’ve survived the “Crash-Test Dummy” ride. They put you in a little car, and it carries you up the tracks to a significant height, then you spiral down finally crashing through a number of walls: Styrofoam, foil, PVC, and finally the ride ends when you hit a wall of bricks at speeds greater than 60 miles per hour. Okay, I’m lying. In the real ride its a little boat that carries you up to a significant height. You plunge straight down-nose down, and the only thing keeping you in the boat (relatively speaking) is the harness that they strapped you into at the beginning of the ride. You finally stop because you’ve hit the water at ground level.

A couple of notes on the flying boat ride. I should have noticed in line that I was the only adult around. The rest of the folks were barely past the age of puberty, thus allowing for significant time for life to heal their bruised and scarred bodies. Later, I understood the situation better. Leaving the ride I heard a dad saying to his daughter, “Just get in line Shelly. Mom and I have to go call our agent and see if you’re still covered under our health insurance.”

We’d survived the Flying Boat Ride, but only barely. Hailey’s head hurt, and my neck was a wee bit sore. Now on to the roller coasters. Because, if you know me, you know there’s nothing I like more than super high places and throwing up! We went on the Sidewinder. They have this new gimmick where they video parts of the ride. Because it’s good to have that remembrance of your dad turning white and passing out. “Quick! Somebody put a piece of walnut-fudge under his nose. He’ll come around soon enough.”

It was after doing Sidewinder, the Flying Boat Ride and Side Winder (Yes, I know I said that twice) that my back began to hurt a little bit. The kind of hurt that I think Jason Bourne may have experienced after his 20th car wreck. But he’s younger than me.

Despite being adventurous, we decided not to do the ride where you hang upside down while a machine sprays water at you while you spin at 5,000 revolutions-per-minute. We also skipped the ride where you hang upside down while on a rollercoaster while it loops at 5,000 revolutions-per-minute (but hey, at least you don’t get wet!). Onto the mild roller coaster (“My daughter does this ride. She’s only six and gets scared easily.”) which we did three times. More surges of back pain. And I call it quits on the roller coasters. Time to head home.

The next time I say, “Let’s do it. We’ll regret it if we don’t. (After all, I’m ‘wild at heart.’)” could somebody just hold me down or kick me. Because I’ve seen Jason Bourne survive that, but I haven’t seen him survive a Flying Boat Ride.