Watching

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When I was younger, I looked on in wild wonder at a certain breed of older ladies.  While they looked normal – well groomed, no nervous tics to speak of –  they had habits that set them apart from the crowd – kooky habits.  Despite saying, “I will never ever be one of them,”  I’ve somehow, over the past couple of years, turned into one and am now likely the focus of some other young person’s mocking.  Though there are many facets to my kookiness, here is the most glaring example of my transformation:  I feed animals.

To be fair, Gregory started it! Oh, listen to me, blaming it on him.  Seriously, he did though.  We were at the coast a few years ago and he saw some hummingbirds darting around a feeder.  I was so tickled at his excitement, “Buddy, did you see that one?  How about that one?  They’re so neat!”, that I bought him a feeder.  Placed just outside our kitchen window, we’ve had many a tiny visitor.

Then there were the Bushtits, literally the cutest birds, and aside from the hummingbird, the smallest in North America.  They twitter around in flocks, and despite their rather drab color, they bring so much cheer, bobbing and darting through the trees.  Anyway, I kept seeing them in our yard, and then I saw them en masse at a suet feeder at my neighbor’s house and, well, you can see the giant snowball forming, can’t you?

So, we started with one suet feeder outside the bedroom window, and got lots of traffic from the Bushtits, as well as Warblers, Flickers, Jays, Starlings, Chickadees, and Juncos.  As you can imagine, I got excited about all these birds, and thought, well, wouldn’t it be neat if we could watch them in the dining room, too?  Feeder count: three.

Then I noticed all the house finches on the wire and wondered why they weren’t gobbling up the goodies at the suet feeders.  As I later learned, at the Backyard Bird Shop, they’re not big on suet, but boy do they love sunflower seeds.  Feeder count: four.  Additional birds: House Finches, Purple Finches, Song Sparrows, Pine Siskins, Golden Crowned Sparrows, Gold Finches, and Lesser Gold Finches.

At this point, I could see the kooky transformation happening in a big way, yet, rather than stop right there, I asked Laura (yeah, I’m on a first name basis with the bird shop manager) what kind of birds eat at the flat feeders they have in the shop.  Well, gentle readers, a whole new crop that wasn’t visiting before, and since I had already crossed the threshold there was no going back.  Feeder count: five.  Additional birds: Black Headed Gros Beak and Evening Grosbeak, plus a Hawk (not sure what kind) that came to munch on these fellas (he missed – this time).

But, you may remember, I said animals.  I feed animals.  Well, as those in my situation already know, feeders don’t just attract birds, but squirrels, too.  They are tenacious, I might add.  So, as the package of squirrel food says, “Don’t fight ’em, feed ’em!”  Feeder count: six.  Kooky lady transformation: done and done!

You know, I really love it when I find something that epitomizes what I enjoy most in life: love, beauty, simplicity, honesty, quirkiness, and music to go with it all.  So, I am just tickled to write about Lars and the Real Girl, because, for me, it was a charming way to package my favorites together.

First love, because that really is the cherry on top, isn’t it?  This is the story of Lars Lindstrom, his family, and the small town that loves and supports him during a rather interesting time in his life.  You see, the rather sweet and mild mannered Lars has purchased a Real Doll named Bianca (bearing a slight resemblance to Angelina Jolie), and rather than keep her hidden in the bedroom like most men of his age would (Lars is a gentleman and a Christian, he would never), he introduces her to all, giving her a story and life of her own.

Beauty – Filmed in wintry Canada, the gorgeousness inherent in cold landscapes is here – falling snow, icicles, dormant grasses, and bare trees.  On a more spiritual level, the myriad ways his family and the town come together for Lars are really quite lovely.

Simplicity – I suppose it isn’t a terribly simple story when a man takes a doll for his real girlfriend, yet it is when viewed through the lens of love and letting go.  As Yoda would say, “Do or do not – there is no try.”

Honesty – Through his delusion, Lars is finally able to express himself and with great candor, inspiring those around him to do the same.

Quirkiness – Um, a grown man acts like a doll is his real  girlfriend and everyone plays along.  Enough said.

Music – The soundtrack, like Lars, is a complex mix of melancholy,  playful innocence, and carefully measured beats – very easy on the ears.  I think I’ll buy it and play it on a loop.

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There’s this funny scene in You’ve Got Mail when Greg Kinnear’s character, Frank Navasky, is considering a topic for a book, and he says he’d like to write, “Something relevant for today, like the Luddite movement in 19th century England.”  Well, today’s spotlight is a bit like that.

Even though A Face in the Crowd came out in 1957, it is highly relevant to today, tackling issues like the power of celebrity, television ratings, and the Madison Avenue grooming of presidential hopefuls.

Andy Griffith plays – brace yourself my friends, this isn’t Mayberry –  Lonesome Rhodes, a drunken, womanizing, self-serving conniver whose meteoric rise to fame and power starts from a jail cell where he’s been arrested for drunken and disorderly conduct.  Complete with boyish good looks and a devilish laugh, he’s a force to be reckoned with.

The lovely Patricia Neal (that voice!) plays Marcia Jeffries, the woman responsible for his discovery.  Despite Lonesome’s wicked ways, Marcia remains loyal and protective, until her own sanity is at stake, forcing her to make a very daring choice.  Also cast is the young and handsome Walter Matthau (seriously – great glasses too!), playing the clever and equally devoted, though not to Lonesome, Mel Miller, Marcia’s savior.

With the exception of being filmed in black and white and Patricia Neal’s occasionally over dramatic hand getstures popular at the time, the movie really feels like it could have been made today.  The dialogue is razor sharp and the characters achingly real.  It is surprisingly racy, too – drunkenness, premarital sex, extra-marital sex, all this for 1957!

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Sometimes it is really difficult for me to put my feelings into words because they feel so inadequate or they just seem silly, and in this case, both.  I do not tend to get starry eyed about celebrities.  Yes, I do find them interesting, as I do all people, and occasionally get the gossip via magazines, but I know that, ultimately we are all human in the end.   We all eat, sleep, and go to the bathroom every day.

One exception to this rule is this fella here.  Good golly, Gregory and I were so darned excited to see him last week at the Oregon State Fair.  I mean, the guy’s done so much – Farm Aid, Bio-Fuel, and all that singing!  When we first arrived and perused the various sites, we’d look at each other and ask, “Do you think he’s here?”  Then, after we’d seen the Honeysuckle Rose and knew he was, indeed, at the Fair, we wondered aloud, “What do you think he’s doing now?”  And then, when we finally got to take our seats and his roadie brought out Trigger, we just about burst.  “Willie Nelson is back stage and he’s gonna sing – for us!”

Well, my friends, he did not disappoint.  The man, who is seventy-five, played for an hour and forty-five minutes without stopping.  When the band played “Bloody Mary Morning,” I thought old Trigger might break at the seams.   Willie was strumming so wildly, and me, right there with him, whoopin’ and hollerin’, hands drumming on my thighs, feet stomping to the pulsing beat.  Hot damn, he is good!  Sometimes, he didn’t even finish a song before starting the melody for another.  The man was on fire.

He played old favorites, like “Whiskey River,” “Crazy, ” and “On the Road Again,” and new songs, like “You Don’t Think I’m Funny Anymore,” and “Over You Again.”   Of course he played “Georgia,” and of course, I cried, but sweetly, because the night was so magical there in Salem.  Big clouds threatened us and a cool breeze blew, but the sky turned starry, and the people were so kind, happy as clams to be in the presence of this sweet, generous, and funny man.  Oh Willie, it was a delight to spend a “Moment of Forever” with you.

Do you know how old you will be when you grow up?  Do you know who you are now?  If presented to you, would you take the opportunity to be someone else?

These are just a few of the questions explored in Michelangelo Antonioni’s beautiful and beguiling filmThe Passenger, released in 1975.

I like to think of this film like a caterpillar metamorphosing into a butterfly, with Jack Nicholson in the lead role.  It is Jack before he was “Jack.”   Smooth, all the mannerisms and quirks we’ve come to expect from him are only shimmers on the horizon, scarcely perceptible to this viewer’s eye.  He is handsome, too, shirtless and wiry, very easy on the eyes.

As our caterpillar, he’s David Locke, an award winning journalist, devouring life, but never really appreciating all that he has and sees.  He’s trudging around the Sahara, hungry for a story, looking for the right person, looking for himself.  Despite his critical success and his marriage, he is impatient, edgy – immature.

Then, when a man bearing a certain resemblance to David dies, he assumes his identity, faking his own death, entering the chrysalis and the shady world of arms dealing.  Still somewhat unsure of himself, he proceeds slowly, traveling around Europe, dodging people who know him from his past life, and those who believe he is the new man.

When the butterfly finally emerges, it is with beauty, conviction, and self assurance.  This is ME.  This is what I do.  Such a glorious journey.

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