This weekend I saw two films, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" part one, and "Burlesque". Care to guess which one I thought was the better film?
Let me remove the mystery by first saying that I liked "Deathly Hallows". I have read all the books, have them all in hardbound First Editions in fact (geek), and enjoyed them immensely, even standing in line twice to get the first copies (uber-geek). I've enjoyed all the movies. I think the casting has been superb (Tonks is hot) and the direction, cinematography and screenwriting have all been excellent. (Note to WingNut Productions; THIS is how you adapt a novel, Peter, Fran and Phillipa. Note that NONE of the characters here behaved DIFFERENTLY than they do in the books.....idiots.)
"Deathly Hallows" presents some (well, all) of the challenges of a novel versus a screenplay. One, it's huge. Two, it's HUGE. Three, pacing in a novel can be glacial, then cheetah. A film needs a bit more evenness to it. In the novel, Ron, Hermione and Harry spend, oh, six chapters or so.... camping. And bitch fighting. And camping some more. Then they spend some time ambling about. Finally some two hundred pages in they fight for their lives. From a film standpoint it's like taking the first hour of "My Dinner
With Andre" and then strapping on the last hour of "Shoot'em Up".
"Snooooooozzzzzzzeeee.. AAiiieeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!"
I really felt the writers, director etc. did a fantastic job here. They kept huge sections of dialogue and action, kept the characters true (Fran, Peter, pay attention here) and for the people who wanted every moment and word in the book on the screen, they... well.... OK, those people got screwed. Tough. Deal with it. All the key elements were there (and yes, you who know me and read the book, I got misty once, and of course had to wipe my eyes later. You know what I'm talking about...). The movie ended at a properly climactic moment, and certainly left me ready to see part two.
Still, "Burlesque" was much better I thought.
OK, hear me out. I'm expecting to take toon-ville levels of crap over this. Nevertheless....
"Burlesque" stole pretty liberally from the "Coyote Ugly" script, to my mind. Girl with talent goes to big city, falls into a potentially awesome job, gets robbed, meets a boy..... yeah, OK, I got it. Harry Potter is not exactly new either (ducks). The point is that from a performance stand- point, "Burlesque" simply takes you and whirls you away so prettily you don't notice if there are gaping plot holes or not. Nor did I care. I went to see Cher and Christina perform. I got that, and then some.
These are two of the women in modern music with simply massive vocal talents. The film lets them use them, and in a logical fashion given the setting; not American Musical "I am angry! I should sing a song about anger!" style. The cinematography is better than "Cabaret" (ducks again) or "Moulin Rouge" (ducks again? did anyone like this?). The sets are equal to anything Ziegfeld Follies ever did. How they got them in that little club is one of the things you just look at and go "So what?"
Then there are the acting abilities. Cher, well we all know she can act, and brilliantly. Christina on the other hand.... this is her first film. She might have done some TV. Whatever. She's unlikely to grab an Oscar nod for this, but she held her own with Cher, and with Stanley Tucci. He's another reason to see this. If you like him at all, you will love watching two moments of Oscar worthy ability. First is the perfectly droll and deadpan "I never loved you", and later when Cher calls him an asshole..... and there are dozens of others. I'm not going to give any spoilers on his role; if you act, you should see this just for him.
Eric Dane (McSteamy from "Grey's Anatomy") and Alan Cumming (Nightcrawler from "X-Men" and the Tin Man from HBO's "Tin Man" Oz adaptation) are also spectacular in this. The romantic lead.... uhh, whose name I forgot..... wait.... IMDB rules! Cam Gigandet (WTF? I'll never remember that one...) oh. Derp. From "Twilight" (ick) and "New Moon" (ick ick) and "Pandorum" and "Easy A"... shit. No wonder he looked familiar. DERP. Anyway, they were also great in this, and gave both women plenty to work off of. Frankly, Cher and Christina could (and should!) take this on the road, using the sets, dancers, back up vocals etc., and the music. Screw the story, just belt the songs in order. Because Cher's voice is still strong at 64; its as hot as Tina Turners legs..... and Christina? Yow. I confess I worked her shows, and only discovered then she had an amazing voice. I still own no CD's for either woman..... (the Cher tour DVD does NOT count..) but I'm going to get this soundtrack. And listen in my car. Yeah, you heard me.
Don't be hatin...
Monday, December 6, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Neither snow nor rain...
Sometimes, being a stagehand is nothing more than hours of labor; lifting, pushing, pulling and carrying someone else's crap, and assembling it so they can strut and preen in the public eye; I'm thinking Prince here, or maybe Britney. Then there are days like the last two.
I worked the Bridge School Benefit show for the first time this year, as a follow spot operator. For more than eight hours Saturday, and another eight on Sunday, I sat inside a
ten foot wide, eight foot deep metal box atop a thirty foot tall post, wielding my 300 pound, six and a half foot long spotlight. Saturday I was lashed periodically by wind and intermittent rain, so often that my pant legs and sleeves were wet by the end of the show, even though I was sitting 2 feet back from the opening. Sunday I wore a poncho for the first two hours. Still, my legs and sleeves got pretty damp, and it was not warm at all.
It was worth it.
To begin with, I got to see some of the students who have benefitted from the Bridge School program; students who, in our all too often cookie-cutter mindset society, would have been pushed aside by the public school system; left to waste tragically because they are disabled in some manner. I did not hear the name of the woman that Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder congratulated on recieving her bachelors degree. I did hear the emotion in his voice as he told the crowd how proud he was of her efforts. I wish I could have picked her out sooner, in order to get my spotlight on her; but 250 feet of seperation made it hard to do.... she was actually behind the camera operator from my vantage at first, then it was too late...
I also have to say that of all the bands, star performers, and major artists I saw there, the performance that completely blew me away was Sir Elton John and Leon Russell together on stage as part of T. Bone Burnett's "Speaking Clock Revue". I don't mean to slight the other artists; Kris Kristofferson, Neil Young and Buffalo Springfield, Elvis Costello, Billy Idol, Emmylou Harris, Lucinda Williams, Karen Elson, Jeff Bridges.... all the others performed amazing sets. Ralph Stanley "the oldest and greatest country singer" according to Elvis Costello, even did one of the few country songs I like "Man of Constant Sorrow" which was so big in the film "O Brother Where Art Thou". Also known as "The Odyssey" for those of us with a classical education...
The 30 minute or more set by Sir Elton and Leon was the pinnacle for me. I understand that Leon was not feeling at all well, and in fact had to leave before the finale of the show; if that's how good he is when he's sick, I can't imagine what the set would have been like if he was feeling 100%. Added to that was the unbelievable voice of one of the four female backup singers, (whose names I can't find anywhere, guess I have to buy the CD... which I will), who did a sustain on one song that makes the best of Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenoweth on "Wicked" sound like one bar humming. I have no clue what the song was; I'm not even sure it's on the "Union" cd.... I just sat there, spellbound. Whoever she is, I think she's wasted as a backup vocalist.
I'm glad that after all this time, Sir Elton and Leon are performing side-by-side, a duet that is so powerful and so complementary, I wonder if Billy Joel will have to tour alone from now one. Or maybe, just MAYBE.....
I have the coolest job in the world.
I worked the Bridge School Benefit show for the first time this year, as a follow spot operator. For more than eight hours Saturday, and another eight on Sunday, I sat inside a
ten foot wide, eight foot deep metal box atop a thirty foot tall post, wielding my 300 pound, six and a half foot long spotlight. Saturday I was lashed periodically by wind and intermittent rain, so often that my pant legs and sleeves were wet by the end of the show, even though I was sitting 2 feet back from the opening. Sunday I wore a poncho for the first two hours. Still, my legs and sleeves got pretty damp, and it was not warm at all.
It was worth it.
To begin with, I got to see some of the students who have benefitted from the Bridge School program; students who, in our all too often cookie-cutter mindset society, would have been pushed aside by the public school system; left to waste tragically because they are disabled in some manner. I did not hear the name of the woman that Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder congratulated on recieving her bachelors degree. I did hear the emotion in his voice as he told the crowd how proud he was of her efforts. I wish I could have picked her out sooner, in order to get my spotlight on her; but 250 feet of seperation made it hard to do.... she was actually behind the camera operator from my vantage at first, then it was too late...
I also have to say that of all the bands, star performers, and major artists I saw there, the performance that completely blew me away was Sir Elton John and Leon Russell together on stage as part of T. Bone Burnett's "Speaking Clock Revue". I don't mean to slight the other artists; Kris Kristofferson, Neil Young and Buffalo Springfield, Elvis Costello, Billy Idol, Emmylou Harris, Lucinda Williams, Karen Elson, Jeff Bridges.... all the others performed amazing sets. Ralph Stanley "the oldest and greatest country singer" according to Elvis Costello, even did one of the few country songs I like "Man of Constant Sorrow" which was so big in the film "O Brother Where Art Thou". Also known as "The Odyssey" for those of us with a classical education...
The 30 minute or more set by Sir Elton and Leon was the pinnacle for me. I understand that Leon was not feeling at all well, and in fact had to leave before the finale of the show; if that's how good he is when he's sick, I can't imagine what the set would have been like if he was feeling 100%. Added to that was the unbelievable voice of one of the four female backup singers, (whose names I can't find anywhere, guess I have to buy the CD... which I will), who did a sustain on one song that makes the best of Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenoweth on "Wicked" sound like one bar humming. I have no clue what the song was; I'm not even sure it's on the "Union" cd.... I just sat there, spellbound. Whoever she is, I think she's wasted as a backup vocalist.
I'm glad that after all this time, Sir Elton and Leon are performing side-by-side, a duet that is so powerful and so complementary, I wonder if Billy Joel will have to tour alone from now one. Or maybe, just MAYBE.....
I have the coolest job in the world.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Great new movies
Today I saw both "The Town" and "Easy A".
"The Town" is Ben Affleck's second turn at directing, after "Gone Baby Gone". I have to say, it's an order of magnitude better. While "Gone Baby.." was well done. "The Town" has superb pacing from the start. You are immersed in seconds in the gang, and the nature of the two principles is made clear within the first two minutes. From there on, while it follows a fairly standard plotline for Action/Romance, it's still handled deftly enough that, well, you don't care. The moments of humor are inserted right where they are needed, even during, oh, say, a robbery. When the scene calls for action, you get it in spades.
The funny moments include a short written note near the end that is as funny as the wonderful "how do ya like THEM apples?" from "Good Will Hunting" and felt like a nod to that moment. Sure, lots of the story has already been told in the trailers; you know that Ben's character "Wants out of this life of crime and villainy". So he's the classic whore with a heart of gold Hollywood adores. Again, who cares? Rebecca Hall as the female lead has that same girl-next-door unaffected beauty that Minnie Driver had; and it works just as well. A solid four wombats.
"Easy A" looks like a fairly typical teen-romance-comedy-angst-recovery movie. It is. But that's like saying "Juno" is about a pregnant 16 year old. While true, that's not even the cherry on he top of the sundae; it's the bowl it gets served in. The narrative POV works perfectly for this film, and it's as funny and as full of memorable quotes as "Juno" was. "What, do I have a gnome down there?" By the time that line was delivered, I was already laughing as hard a I did over the "Mr. Burrito" bit from "Toy Story 3". OK, maybe not QUITE that hard. Close though.
Emma Stone is pretty, and at 22 (yes, I looked) still can play a high school senior convincingly. Amanda Bynes as her nemesis is PERFECT, and if you don't want to clip her with a guitar 30 minutes in, you are a zombie. Stanley Tucci as Emma's dad is spot-on, and the dialogue is not only well written, it's flawlessly executed by the cast and the director. Five good fat wombats for this one; it goes in my library once it's out.
"The Town" is Ben Affleck's second turn at directing, after "Gone Baby Gone". I have to say, it's an order of magnitude better. While "Gone Baby.." was well done. "The Town" has superb pacing from the start. You are immersed in seconds in the gang, and the nature of the two principles is made clear within the first two minutes. From there on, while it follows a fairly standard plotline for Action/Romance, it's still handled deftly enough that, well, you don't care. The moments of humor are inserted right where they are needed, even during, oh, say, a robbery. When the scene calls for action, you get it in spades.
The funny moments include a short written note near the end that is as funny as the wonderful "how do ya like THEM apples?" from "Good Will Hunting" and felt like a nod to that moment. Sure, lots of the story has already been told in the trailers; you know that Ben's character "Wants out of this life of crime and villainy". So he's the classic whore with a heart of gold Hollywood adores. Again, who cares? Rebecca Hall as the female lead has that same girl-next-door unaffected beauty that Minnie Driver had; and it works just as well. A solid four wombats.
"Easy A" looks like a fairly typical teen-romance-comedy-angst-recovery movie. It is. But that's like saying "Juno" is about a pregnant 16 year old. While true, that's not even the cherry on he top of the sundae; it's the bowl it gets served in. The narrative POV works perfectly for this film, and it's as funny and as full of memorable quotes as "Juno" was. "What, do I have a gnome down there?" By the time that line was delivered, I was already laughing as hard a I did over the "Mr. Burrito" bit from "Toy Story 3". OK, maybe not QUITE that hard. Close though.
Emma Stone is pretty, and at 22 (yes, I looked) still can play a high school senior convincingly. Amanda Bynes as her nemesis is PERFECT, and if you don't want to clip her with a guitar 30 minutes in, you are a zombie. Stanley Tucci as Emma's dad is spot-on, and the dialogue is not only well written, it's flawlessly executed by the cast and the director. Five good fat wombats for this one; it goes in my library once it's out.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Theatre ghosts
Another of my "epic" dreams today; yeah , you know the ones I mean, the ones that read like a movie script. The ones I can recall in detail years later. This one featured my friends Kim Saunders, Alea Selburn, Dennis Serras, and Jessica Teeter. Hi guys!
I am returning from an evening somewhere in town; the place feels East-coast; older, with a sense of presence you don't really feel in, say downtown Sacramento, or Denver.... even Chicago. The sober seniority of Philadelphia, the somber practicality of Boston. A place where there are buildings that have been standing unchanged for 200 years, block after block.
I am heading towards the theatre where I am currently working as the fight director for a pirate-themed play. It seems like a staged version of something like "Pirates of the Caribbean.". The theatre itself is well over a hundred years old, and has architecture more like a gothic cathedral than a stage. The lobby has high rectangular windows with stained glass, as does the greenroom and backstage area, and the small rehearsal stage.. I'm entering from the greenroom door to the outside, and my friend Alea is with me. We have had dinner together maybe, or have just run into each other in the parking lot. Both of us are just stopping by; rehearsal is over, and we both need to chat with the director perhaps, or the stage manager, some utterly mundane task. As we walk in we are both laughing over a story Alea has just told.
Like all large older theatres, and even a few small ones, this theatre has a reputation for being haunted. This place deserves the reputation more than most however. No one has EVER spent the night here. Props, costumes, and even furniture and set pieces are always found moved the next day. And no one who has ever been there to turn out the lights at night, even if they have people with them, is in the slightest doubt that when the shadows fill the stage, some of them move on their own volition.
This night is different; it's like walking in to the middle of a static charge, or an EMP burst. While the hair on my neck and arms doesn't stand on end, I'm left wondering why they are not, until I realize the psychic pressure is pushing them flat. If this were a horror film, I would be locking the doors in a mortuary. When I turned around, every corpse in the place would be sitting bolt upright, staring blankly forward.
There are a half-dozen people inside, trying in desperation to get everything put away properly and get out. The atmosphere is so intense however that they are bumbling about, or stopping and fidgeting, trying to remember what they were just doing..... Alea and I are standing just inside the door, and staring in amazement at what is going on. Jessica is towards the back of the greenroom area, and she looks like a cat that has been dropped in a dog run full of hyenas. She is moving back and forth in an area maybe five feet long, her arms full of costumes, seemingly unable to decide what to do with them; Dennis is standing by the rack of weapons for the show, with a sword held in his hand, but he seems rooted to the spot. Kim is the only one moving with some purpose; she has seen Alea and I standing there and is running over to us.
Kim already has large eyes; right now, I could put a fresnel lens in one and it would fit like a contact. For the first time I notice that instead of the classic horror-story chill, the room is hot, almost stifling; it's like walking on the tarmac of the airport in Houston in August. Kim is grabbing at Alea and trying to get her to leave, all the time holding her arm like it's her only anchor to reality. Dennis looks at me, and says, in the calm way only he has mastered for understatement "Scott, we seem to be in trouble here..."
The pressure eases for a moment, as I start laughing at this. Everyone else who has heard it is also starting to laugh, and those others most disoriented calm a bit and even manage weak laughter themselves. Whatever force it is causing this draws back, not in retreat, or anger; there is no malice to this at all. Any more than there is malice in heavy rain, or arctic cold. It is simply immense, like a tidal wave or an avalanche. The attitude is more like one of study, and..... waiting.
I can't escape my basic nature. I can see how panicked everyone is, and I'm angry over how badly it's affected Jessica. Kim and Dennis have now moved back towards the door Alea and I are near, all trying to tell us at once how this just swept over them suddenly, and how they knew they had to put everything back properly before they left.... Alea is trying to calm them all down, and I am glaring at the door to the side of the stage entrance. That door leads to a short hallway, with two other doors; the first door inside opens on stairs going to the lofts, the catwalks above the stage and the grid, and to the area above the house. The other door opens on the stairs to the basement and the pit. It stands ajar, as does the one going up; and from there, the sense of waiting and of immense gravity seems to be leaking outwards, like lava penned behind a sheet of plywood
Jessica and Kim seem to realize what I am going to do even before I do it; Dennis is barely a beat behind them, and he steps in front of me to stop me as they grab at my jacket and arms. Alea is too far away, but she turns and look at me as well. I don't know if it's outrage, or frustration, my misplaced sense of chivalry, or a bad decision made from panic; it's not bravado, that is certain. My hands are sweating, I can tell my eyes are wider even than Kim's, and I am not sure I am remembering to breathe. Regardless, I grab a sword from the bundle in Dennis' arms and stalk towards the open door. "What are you doing! How dare you! Look at what you've done to these people..."
My voice fades like a dying breeze. Standing in front of the door now are three young looking children; perhaps ten years old each, one boy and two girls. The clothes they wear look fairly modern, like something you could find at Sears; but the FEEL of the clothes is all wrong, like they are all hand-woven. The children themselves are worse. In spite of the appearance, they feel primordial, they radiate a sense of ancient, like a Pharaoh's mummy... or something even older, something not seen on this earth for millennia. They say nothing, but look at me without expression, so devoid of emotions they could be wax dolls or mannequins. They are utterly horrible.
Before my heart stops, they are simply gone. Stepping from the doorway is a woman, very close to my own height but slender. She is wearing pants and a simple blouse, with a trench coat like jacket. Again, in spite of the seeming modernity, the clothes seem like they are camouflage, perhaps for clothes worn last in 1840. She too carries a sense of incredible energy held rigidly in check, but where the children were terrifying, she is merely scary. For the first time I am aware of breathing again, and I also realize that my hands are trembling. She looks at me and says quietly;" So, what were you planning to do next?"
"I have no clue at all."
"Did the sword help?"
"Uh, not really... habit maybe? These people, these are my friends...."
"Hmm. Yes, I see we have done a great deal to them. A pity that. Walk with me now."
There is little real force to her words, but I might as well be on a leash. I could no more stay where I am than I could hold back the tide with a crossing guards stop sign. What happens next is almost comic. As everyone stands around watching, she leads me to various places in the backstage area, where graffiti has been scrawled on a wall, or designs painted on the floor. Some she approves of; others clearly are offensive or annoying. I even have the temerity to ask if one design that I happen to like could be left instead of removed; it's a little painting on the floor of Oz, from a prior show. She thinks about it for a moment and says "Well, alright, that can stay.."
Then I ask about things like the weapon stands that hold all the swords and rifles. "Oh, those are fine. We like the swords a great deal." In spite of the continuing sense of presence, I have inexplicably relaxed while she has been leading me about. Jessica has joined us, sort of, standing several feet farther away, as has Kim, and both of them are cautiously asking about other things, like the costumes, equipment, if we are even safe in there ever again. Kim asks rather sharply "How often do you think we can stand stuff like this?" The woman looks at her and says softly "If you are careful, it won't happen again."
Now we are standing near Alea and Dennis again, who have formed a sort of human wall with the still badly frightened others behind them. The woman with me looks them over and smiles slightly; whether in approval of their heroics, or amusement at the effort I can't tell. Abruptly she looks back over her shoulder towards the doorway, and what ever she senses there causes her to turn back sharply. "You should take care of these chores on the morrow; perhaps the day after that. You should leave. Now."
With that she turns and strides back towards the doorway, and as she moves her outline wavers and blurs as though she walks through a heat haze. Jessica, Dennis and Alea are herding the rest of the still rather dazed crew out the door; Kim is grabbing at my arm again and pulling me. I can't take my eyes off the shape of the woman however, as she fades out into the increasingly watery images near the doorway. When she is gone completely the distortion vanishes too; and for a heartbeat I can see that beyond the shadowed area in the far hall, there is a boiling deeper area of shadow, held in check still by some barrier I can't see at all. The sword, which I have carried this whole time drops from my fingers as my whole body goes loose. Without Kim and then Dennis as well to grab me, I would collapse on the spot. They manage to get me staggering backwards out into the cooler air outside, and as the door swings shut, shoved frantically by Alea, I have one last image of all the lights inside going out as a wave of utter blackness rolls forward, devouring it.
I am returning from an evening somewhere in town; the place feels East-coast; older, with a sense of presence you don't really feel in, say downtown Sacramento, or Denver.... even Chicago. The sober seniority of Philadelphia, the somber practicality of Boston. A place where there are buildings that have been standing unchanged for 200 years, block after block.
I am heading towards the theatre where I am currently working as the fight director for a pirate-themed play. It seems like a staged version of something like "Pirates of the Caribbean.". The theatre itself is well over a hundred years old, and has architecture more like a gothic cathedral than a stage. The lobby has high rectangular windows with stained glass, as does the greenroom and backstage area, and the small rehearsal stage.. I'm entering from the greenroom door to the outside, and my friend Alea is with me. We have had dinner together maybe, or have just run into each other in the parking lot. Both of us are just stopping by; rehearsal is over, and we both need to chat with the director perhaps, or the stage manager, some utterly mundane task. As we walk in we are both laughing over a story Alea has just told.
Like all large older theatres, and even a few small ones, this theatre has a reputation for being haunted. This place deserves the reputation more than most however. No one has EVER spent the night here. Props, costumes, and even furniture and set pieces are always found moved the next day. And no one who has ever been there to turn out the lights at night, even if they have people with them, is in the slightest doubt that when the shadows fill the stage, some of them move on their own volition.
This night is different; it's like walking in to the middle of a static charge, or an EMP burst. While the hair on my neck and arms doesn't stand on end, I'm left wondering why they are not, until I realize the psychic pressure is pushing them flat. If this were a horror film, I would be locking the doors in a mortuary. When I turned around, every corpse in the place would be sitting bolt upright, staring blankly forward.
There are a half-dozen people inside, trying in desperation to get everything put away properly and get out. The atmosphere is so intense however that they are bumbling about, or stopping and fidgeting, trying to remember what they were just doing..... Alea and I are standing just inside the door, and staring in amazement at what is going on. Jessica is towards the back of the greenroom area, and she looks like a cat that has been dropped in a dog run full of hyenas. She is moving back and forth in an area maybe five feet long, her arms full of costumes, seemingly unable to decide what to do with them; Dennis is standing by the rack of weapons for the show, with a sword held in his hand, but he seems rooted to the spot. Kim is the only one moving with some purpose; she has seen Alea and I standing there and is running over to us.
Kim already has large eyes; right now, I could put a fresnel lens in one and it would fit like a contact. For the first time I notice that instead of the classic horror-story chill, the room is hot, almost stifling; it's like walking on the tarmac of the airport in Houston in August. Kim is grabbing at Alea and trying to get her to leave, all the time holding her arm like it's her only anchor to reality. Dennis looks at me, and says, in the calm way only he has mastered for understatement "Scott, we seem to be in trouble here..."
The pressure eases for a moment, as I start laughing at this. Everyone else who has heard it is also starting to laugh, and those others most disoriented calm a bit and even manage weak laughter themselves. Whatever force it is causing this draws back, not in retreat, or anger; there is no malice to this at all. Any more than there is malice in heavy rain, or arctic cold. It is simply immense, like a tidal wave or an avalanche. The attitude is more like one of study, and..... waiting.
I can't escape my basic nature. I can see how panicked everyone is, and I'm angry over how badly it's affected Jessica. Kim and Dennis have now moved back towards the door Alea and I are near, all trying to tell us at once how this just swept over them suddenly, and how they knew they had to put everything back properly before they left.... Alea is trying to calm them all down, and I am glaring at the door to the side of the stage entrance. That door leads to a short hallway, with two other doors; the first door inside opens on stairs going to the lofts, the catwalks above the stage and the grid, and to the area above the house. The other door opens on the stairs to the basement and the pit. It stands ajar, as does the one going up; and from there, the sense of waiting and of immense gravity seems to be leaking outwards, like lava penned behind a sheet of plywood
Jessica and Kim seem to realize what I am going to do even before I do it; Dennis is barely a beat behind them, and he steps in front of me to stop me as they grab at my jacket and arms. Alea is too far away, but she turns and look at me as well. I don't know if it's outrage, or frustration, my misplaced sense of chivalry, or a bad decision made from panic; it's not bravado, that is certain. My hands are sweating, I can tell my eyes are wider even than Kim's, and I am not sure I am remembering to breathe. Regardless, I grab a sword from the bundle in Dennis' arms and stalk towards the open door. "What are you doing! How dare you! Look at what you've done to these people..."
My voice fades like a dying breeze. Standing in front of the door now are three young looking children; perhaps ten years old each, one boy and two girls. The clothes they wear look fairly modern, like something you could find at Sears; but the FEEL of the clothes is all wrong, like they are all hand-woven. The children themselves are worse. In spite of the appearance, they feel primordial, they radiate a sense of ancient, like a Pharaoh's mummy... or something even older, something not seen on this earth for millennia. They say nothing, but look at me without expression, so devoid of emotions they could be wax dolls or mannequins. They are utterly horrible.
Before my heart stops, they are simply gone. Stepping from the doorway is a woman, very close to my own height but slender. She is wearing pants and a simple blouse, with a trench coat like jacket. Again, in spite of the seeming modernity, the clothes seem like they are camouflage, perhaps for clothes worn last in 1840. She too carries a sense of incredible energy held rigidly in check, but where the children were terrifying, she is merely scary. For the first time I am aware of breathing again, and I also realize that my hands are trembling. She looks at me and says quietly;" So, what were you planning to do next?"
"I have no clue at all."
"Did the sword help?"
"Uh, not really... habit maybe? These people, these are my friends...."
"Hmm. Yes, I see we have done a great deal to them. A pity that. Walk with me now."
There is little real force to her words, but I might as well be on a leash. I could no more stay where I am than I could hold back the tide with a crossing guards stop sign. What happens next is almost comic. As everyone stands around watching, she leads me to various places in the backstage area, where graffiti has been scrawled on a wall, or designs painted on the floor. Some she approves of; others clearly are offensive or annoying. I even have the temerity to ask if one design that I happen to like could be left instead of removed; it's a little painting on the floor of Oz, from a prior show. She thinks about it for a moment and says "Well, alright, that can stay.."
Then I ask about things like the weapon stands that hold all the swords and rifles. "Oh, those are fine. We like the swords a great deal." In spite of the continuing sense of presence, I have inexplicably relaxed while she has been leading me about. Jessica has joined us, sort of, standing several feet farther away, as has Kim, and both of them are cautiously asking about other things, like the costumes, equipment, if we are even safe in there ever again. Kim asks rather sharply "How often do you think we can stand stuff like this?" The woman looks at her and says softly "If you are careful, it won't happen again."
Now we are standing near Alea and Dennis again, who have formed a sort of human wall with the still badly frightened others behind them. The woman with me looks them over and smiles slightly; whether in approval of their heroics, or amusement at the effort I can't tell. Abruptly she looks back over her shoulder towards the doorway, and what ever she senses there causes her to turn back sharply. "You should take care of these chores on the morrow; perhaps the day after that. You should leave. Now."
With that she turns and strides back towards the doorway, and as she moves her outline wavers and blurs as though she walks through a heat haze. Jessica, Dennis and Alea are herding the rest of the still rather dazed crew out the door; Kim is grabbing at my arm again and pulling me. I can't take my eyes off the shape of the woman however, as she fades out into the increasingly watery images near the doorway. When she is gone completely the distortion vanishes too; and for a heartbeat I can see that beyond the shadowed area in the far hall, there is a boiling deeper area of shadow, held in check still by some barrier I can't see at all. The sword, which I have carried this whole time drops from my fingers as my whole body goes loose. Without Kim and then Dennis as well to grab me, I would collapse on the spot. They manage to get me staggering backwards out into the cooler air outside, and as the door swings shut, shoved frantically by Alea, I have one last image of all the lights inside going out as a wave of utter blackness rolls forward, devouring it.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Never sleep after the gym
Well. This was one for the books. I am a soldier with a sort of colonial marines force, ala "Aliens". We had been sent to a colony world because (naturally) nasty aliens had decided to invade. Or else they were indigenous, and we of course were evicting them. Regardless they were tough critters; over 6 feet tall, and a fire-engine red body. They were chitinous like lobsters, and in fact had a pair of pincer-tipped arms. The similarity ended there. The tails were up in the air, with the head, such as it was, at the bottom on a short extendable neck. Six legs ending in a three toed claw, with the "arms" at the mid point of the body. If you drew one as a cartoon, it would look like a red banana with 6 legs, two arms, and the mouth a round "O" shape. They were not very funny though. The mouth was filled with shark like teeth, and could cut through kevlar armor. The pincers were like tin snips. Not as good against our body armor... but real nasty on, you know, flesh. They were spider-fast, and in attacking could swing that extendable head upwards from the ground to near waist height, while grabbing and tearing with the pincers. They could also kick and gouge with any pair of the legs while standing on the other four. Their own natural armor was tough enough to take several hits from heavy rifles, lasers, or grenades. Mines worked nicely... but there were a LOT of these things.
There were perhaps 10,000 troops on the planet when I arrived, along with two friends from high school (oddly it was in fact two friends, Jeff Adair and Victor Engesser). We had been out on a few patrols, and had our first direct fight with the "lobstrosities" (thanks Mr. King...). Our Captain had decided I should work with two other sergeants (??OK..) and form an "elite" squad of snipers (yipeee!) to work on long range ambushes.
While we were back at the base, I stopped in to visit a girl there I had developed a crush on. Naturally. I'm on planet three days and I have a crush? Come on, even a TV sitcom doesn't move that fast....well, except for "Big Bang Theory"... whatever.... so I have stopped in her apartment where she and her roommate are dressing for a big dinner celebration that night. The girl is tall, and looks like the Egyptian girl from "The Mummy" (actually a Brazilian, I think..) except a bit more muscle than curves. Apparently that was not an issue for me. Her name is Jihanna. I manage to get a date (yay!) and am off like a shot to change out of uniform and get back to the huge hall being used for the party. The base reminds me a lot more of an industrial complex with a support "town" around the edges than either a military base or a colony, but still quite impressive. On the way in I am walking with two other members of my team, and Jeff and Victor. We stop and watch as a rather notoriously clumsy scout tries to navigate his two man ATV around the base perimiter fance... and seemingly manages to drive into, then have to back out of, pothole after pothole. His shotgun rider finally jumps off, screaming that it's safer to walk alone than ride with him. At that point everyone watching starts laughing, including the parapet guards and the lookouts in the closest towers.
On to the party! Once inside it's a weird mix. Half the soldiers are still in full patrol gear; a number are in full dress uniforms, perhaps 30%, and the rest of us, including all the top officers, are in everything from jeans and shirts to semi-formal. The food is also a bit of a mix. There are buffet tables, and also servers bring trays and plates. One consistent element is the dancing and the drinking. Everyone is doing a lot of both, and the number of couples who suddenly vanish from the floor, sneaking off somewhere, is rather comic.
I've managed to dance with my potential next ex-girlfriend several times, and even once with her roommate... who would not be a loss to date... and I am carrying drinks back for all three of us. Suddenly there is a notable vibration in the floor; everyone stops, and then we all begin running for our homes or the closest sets of weapons and armor. As I get outside I can see the cause; another troopship has just landed, and at least 5000 more troops are pounding towards the main gate as fast as they can run. The drop ship is lifting away from the pad in such a rush that the back ranks are lucky not to be killed in the blast wave; as it is they are getting pushed forward and almost carried faster than they are running. From the towers and fence parapets every single guard is firing, and alarms are blaring an alert. From three directions a tsunami of the lobstrosities is rushing at us; if there were 50,000 I would not be at all surprised.
I can see Jihanna rushing towards the apartments she lives in, and I am torn between staying with her and getting my own armor and weapons. I'm slowing down, trying to get my body to go two ways at once. Apparently Jihanna has already figured me out. She takes another look in my direction and yells "Go! I can shoot too you know!" Then she is sprinting off... and waving back over her shoulder. OK, I can take a hint. She likes me! No way these things are gonna kill me now....
There were perhaps 10,000 troops on the planet when I arrived, along with two friends from high school (oddly it was in fact two friends, Jeff Adair and Victor Engesser). We had been out on a few patrols, and had our first direct fight with the "lobstrosities" (thanks Mr. King...). Our Captain had decided I should work with two other sergeants (??OK..) and form an "elite" squad of snipers (yipeee!) to work on long range ambushes.
While we were back at the base, I stopped in to visit a girl there I had developed a crush on. Naturally. I'm on planet three days and I have a crush? Come on, even a TV sitcom doesn't move that fast....well, except for "Big Bang Theory"... whatever.... so I have stopped in her apartment where she and her roommate are dressing for a big dinner celebration that night. The girl is tall, and looks like the Egyptian girl from "The Mummy" (actually a Brazilian, I think..) except a bit more muscle than curves. Apparently that was not an issue for me. Her name is Jihanna. I manage to get a date (yay!) and am off like a shot to change out of uniform and get back to the huge hall being used for the party. The base reminds me a lot more of an industrial complex with a support "town" around the edges than either a military base or a colony, but still quite impressive. On the way in I am walking with two other members of my team, and Jeff and Victor. We stop and watch as a rather notoriously clumsy scout tries to navigate his two man ATV around the base perimiter fance... and seemingly manages to drive into, then have to back out of, pothole after pothole. His shotgun rider finally jumps off, screaming that it's safer to walk alone than ride with him. At that point everyone watching starts laughing, including the parapet guards and the lookouts in the closest towers.
On to the party! Once inside it's a weird mix. Half the soldiers are still in full patrol gear; a number are in full dress uniforms, perhaps 30%, and the rest of us, including all the top officers, are in everything from jeans and shirts to semi-formal. The food is also a bit of a mix. There are buffet tables, and also servers bring trays and plates. One consistent element is the dancing and the drinking. Everyone is doing a lot of both, and the number of couples who suddenly vanish from the floor, sneaking off somewhere, is rather comic.
I've managed to dance with my potential next ex-girlfriend several times, and even once with her roommate... who would not be a loss to date... and I am carrying drinks back for all three of us. Suddenly there is a notable vibration in the floor; everyone stops, and then we all begin running for our homes or the closest sets of weapons and armor. As I get outside I can see the cause; another troopship has just landed, and at least 5000 more troops are pounding towards the main gate as fast as they can run. The drop ship is lifting away from the pad in such a rush that the back ranks are lucky not to be killed in the blast wave; as it is they are getting pushed forward and almost carried faster than they are running. From the towers and fence parapets every single guard is firing, and alarms are blaring an alert. From three directions a tsunami of the lobstrosities is rushing at us; if there were 50,000 I would not be at all surprised.
I can see Jihanna rushing towards the apartments she lives in, and I am torn between staying with her and getting my own armor and weapons. I'm slowing down, trying to get my body to go two ways at once. Apparently Jihanna has already figured me out. She takes another look in my direction and yells "Go! I can shoot too you know!" Then she is sprinting off... and waving back over her shoulder. OK, I can take a hint. She likes me! No way these things are gonna kill me now....
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The stuff that dreams are made of
This morning I was having a dream about being in Las Vegas with some friends; one of them had passes to watch a sort of Cirque style show from backstage. Someone in the crowd backstage wrote a note and had it passed to me, saying I was too old and not cool enough to watch from backstage. I sent back a note that went something like this:
I have performed on stage since the age of 10, and have been seen by thousands of people. I have been on TV, had my own show, and have been in two feature films. I have been recognized in a store and asked for my autograph. Only 4 times, but still. I am friends with a famous comedian and actor, and he has introduced me to other famous people. I have shaken hands with a president, and I know someone who was a presidential advisor. I have been in a fleet of limousines, and had a doorman hold the door for me as I got out "Hey! That's so-and-so! Hey, that's another famous guy! Hey, that's some random stranger!" I even rented a limo once just to get to the airport.
I have jumped naked from a plane wearing only a parachute, helmet and boots, which I will never do again even if the plane is on fire. I have looked off the edge of a cliff 2000 feet down into a river gorge, and from 120 feet under water looked over the edge of a canyon wall that went down 13,000 feet more. I have flown a light plane to see a girlfriend three times, and sailed a 32 foot boat along the coast of California numerous times. I have ridden horses, both rental trail-horses and privately owned, and have even ridden an elephant. I have ridden a camel to the Great Pyramid of Giza, and out 5 miles into the open desert in Egypt. Once I even rode a sno-disc down a toboggan run, which was moderately stupid. See parachuting.
I have been to Egypt, France, and if you count stopping at the airports in Frankfurt and München then I have been to Germany. I have been to 18 of the states, visiting various cities, and driven through 10 other states. No idea how many I have flown over. I have never been to Alaska or Hawaii, Mexico or Canada; but I have walked down Bourbon Street in New Orleans, along the Patriots Road in Boston, and had a drink in Ben Franklin's favorite tavern. I have been to Puxatawney, and driven behind an Amish wagon on the road. I have stood looking up at the balcony where the Declaration of Independence was read for the first time, and even tried to spend the night in the graveyard in Sleepy Hollow where Washington Irving is buried.
I have had three major surgeries, and one minor; I have broken my arm. I have held a woman and a man in my arms as they died, and have had to let go of five cats when it was time. I have had three of my best friends die; I am fortunate to have known every one, and gladly accept the pain of losing them, for the honor and joy of having known them enough to grieve.
I have loved several women greatly, more quite a bit, and love all my friends a great deal, though I would not kiss many of them (you know who you are guys... ). I have also had my heart broken several times. That also was worth it, as the love still lasts. Well, except for two (and yeah, you know who you are too...). I have over 200 friends on Facebook, and can honestly say that not only do I know their names, I know almost every one well enough to call on the phone, stop by for a visit, or buy a drink in a bar. Most of them would buy me one as well.
I finished the note "What have YOU got?"
I consider the above to be a good start; I still have many, many things to do and see. I have not cruised 1000 feet below the surface of the ocean, or ridden even deeper with James Cameron; I have not gone scuba diving in Hawaii, Mexico, or Australia. I have not played in the open ocean with a dolphin, though I did get all three in the petting/feeding pool at Sea World to start doing tricks. I almost managed to talk the staff into letting me get in with them after hours. I have not yet said "will you marry me", though I planned to, twice, nor had the chance to say "Well, yeah, I'm here aren't I?" ( "I do" seems so stiff and abrupt...). I have not held my own child in my arms, nor seen them learn, and fall, and rise again, though I still hope to one day. That would be a great adventure.
I have stood gazing up at the moon, the planets and the stars; but I have yet to sail the seas of space. That would be an adventure too. I even know my first course to lay in: Second star to the right, and straight on until morning.
I have performed on stage since the age of 10, and have been seen by thousands of people. I have been on TV, had my own show, and have been in two feature films. I have been recognized in a store and asked for my autograph. Only 4 times, but still. I am friends with a famous comedian and actor, and he has introduced me to other famous people. I have shaken hands with a president, and I know someone who was a presidential advisor. I have been in a fleet of limousines, and had a doorman hold the door for me as I got out "Hey! That's so-and-so! Hey, that's another famous guy! Hey, that's some random stranger!" I even rented a limo once just to get to the airport.
I have jumped naked from a plane wearing only a parachute, helmet and boots, which I will never do again even if the plane is on fire. I have looked off the edge of a cliff 2000 feet down into a river gorge, and from 120 feet under water looked over the edge of a canyon wall that went down 13,000 feet more. I have flown a light plane to see a girlfriend three times, and sailed a 32 foot boat along the coast of California numerous times. I have ridden horses, both rental trail-horses and privately owned, and have even ridden an elephant. I have ridden a camel to the Great Pyramid of Giza, and out 5 miles into the open desert in Egypt. Once I even rode a sno-disc down a toboggan run, which was moderately stupid. See parachuting.
I have been to Egypt, France, and if you count stopping at the airports in Frankfurt and München then I have been to Germany. I have been to 18 of the states, visiting various cities, and driven through 10 other states. No idea how many I have flown over. I have never been to Alaska or Hawaii, Mexico or Canada; but I have walked down Bourbon Street in New Orleans, along the Patriots Road in Boston, and had a drink in Ben Franklin's favorite tavern. I have been to Puxatawney, and driven behind an Amish wagon on the road. I have stood looking up at the balcony where the Declaration of Independence was read for the first time, and even tried to spend the night in the graveyard in Sleepy Hollow where Washington Irving is buried.
I have had three major surgeries, and one minor; I have broken my arm. I have held a woman and a man in my arms as they died, and have had to let go of five cats when it was time. I have had three of my best friends die; I am fortunate to have known every one, and gladly accept the pain of losing them, for the honor and joy of having known them enough to grieve.
I have loved several women greatly, more quite a bit, and love all my friends a great deal, though I would not kiss many of them (you know who you are guys... ). I have also had my heart broken several times. That also was worth it, as the love still lasts. Well, except for two (and yeah, you know who you are too...). I have over 200 friends on Facebook, and can honestly say that not only do I know their names, I know almost every one well enough to call on the phone, stop by for a visit, or buy a drink in a bar. Most of them would buy me one as well.
I finished the note "What have YOU got?"
I consider the above to be a good start; I still have many, many things to do and see. I have not cruised 1000 feet below the surface of the ocean, or ridden even deeper with James Cameron; I have not gone scuba diving in Hawaii, Mexico, or Australia. I have not played in the open ocean with a dolphin, though I did get all three in the petting/feeding pool at Sea World to start doing tricks. I almost managed to talk the staff into letting me get in with them after hours. I have not yet said "will you marry me", though I planned to, twice, nor had the chance to say "Well, yeah, I'm here aren't I?" ( "I do" seems so stiff and abrupt...). I have not held my own child in my arms, nor seen them learn, and fall, and rise again, though I still hope to one day. That would be a great adventure.
I have stood gazing up at the moon, the planets and the stars; but I have yet to sail the seas of space. That would be an adventure too. I even know my first course to lay in: Second star to the right, and straight on until morning.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
How to spend $34.00 and smile
It's not often today that you can get your money's worth for anything. Gas is over $3.10 a gallon, because we need to make sure oil company executives get massive bonuses for record profits; milk is almost half again as expensive, because, you know, we have to import and buy so much on the spot market. Darn those foreign cow coalitions... we pay too much for healthcare, auto insurance, home mortgages, pretty much everything.
So: Why is it that after paying $17.00 a ticket for the special Imax glasses to go with the Imax 3D movie, I feel happy? Well that's EASY! Blue stripey girls are ... wait sorry... DRAGONS are hot! (ha ha). More specifically, Blue/Black dragons that spit (Plasma balls? Lightning? Whatever..) are hot. I was more than satisfied with the Imax versions visual effect, and combined with a superbly told charming and funny story, the film is there firmly in my current Top Ten. The writing is excellent, and the actor voicing Hiccup delivers his lines with the perfect punch amd wry humor, and the right amount of frustrated teen when called for. Toothless the dragon always does a great job, though he was not given much dialogue to work with. Having Vikings with Scottish accents just goes to show how well travelled the Vikings really were, and Craig Ferguson and Gerard Butler are charmingly brash, overbearing and simplistic as required. The twin brother and sister keep their squabbles funny, every time they do it, and the kid who simply HAS to have been drawn to look like Jack Black acts like him as well.
The big surprise for me was Astrid; I was absolutely certain that Kirsten Dunst was doing the voice. That of course COULD be because Astrid looks exactly like Kirsten, and copies a number of her gestures, such as the lock of hair hanging over her right eye, the glare, and the smile. When I saw that it was America Ferrera who did the voice all I could think was "Well, that explains it, she is a great actress too!" I have to say, if you are going to see a 3D Imax film, this is the one. The flying scenes took me back to the opening night of "The Empire Strikes Back" with the little airborne speeders racing over the ice and snow. Yow! There is a good reason I think 3D is more than a fad; the visuals here are the primary one.
I also saw "Kick-Ass". Be warned; if potty mouthed 12 year old girls in pony tails are going to shock you, don't be eating or drinking when Hit Girl first shows up. The people in front of you will get really pissed. This movie was funny as hell, and about as politically correct and sensitive as a Beavis and Butthead meet South Park film would be. This film makes no excuses for the level of profanity, masturbation jokes, violence or cleavage shots; and while they don't all get used, I am reasonably certain that all the guns Neo and Trinity did not use were grabbed up by the armourer Damian Mitchell, and the props head. Rudolf Vrba did a great job on the fights; by the time Hit Girl starts, well, kicking ass, nothing she does ( a wall run and flip? ) looks remotely silly. Aside from the fact she is a homicidal maniac, she does a good job being second place in the cute department (for a 12 year old; back off folks (GR) ). As the love interest Lyndsey Fonseca (who is a respectable 24... pfftthhhbbb..) is extremely funny, and VERY pretty. Christopher Minz also has a good part, and actually ties back to "How to Train Your Dragon" as the voice of Fishlegs..
So: Why is it that after paying $17.00 a ticket for the special Imax glasses to go with the Imax 3D movie, I feel happy? Well that's EASY! Blue stripey girls are ... wait sorry... DRAGONS are hot! (ha ha). More specifically, Blue/Black dragons that spit (Plasma balls? Lightning? Whatever..) are hot. I was more than satisfied with the Imax versions visual effect, and combined with a superbly told charming and funny story, the film is there firmly in my current Top Ten. The writing is excellent, and the actor voicing Hiccup delivers his lines with the perfect punch amd wry humor, and the right amount of frustrated teen when called for. Toothless the dragon always does a great job, though he was not given much dialogue to work with. Having Vikings with Scottish accents just goes to show how well travelled the Vikings really were, and Craig Ferguson and Gerard Butler are charmingly brash, overbearing and simplistic as required. The twin brother and sister keep their squabbles funny, every time they do it, and the kid who simply HAS to have been drawn to look like Jack Black acts like him as well.
The big surprise for me was Astrid; I was absolutely certain that Kirsten Dunst was doing the voice. That of course COULD be because Astrid looks exactly like Kirsten, and copies a number of her gestures, such as the lock of hair hanging over her right eye, the glare, and the smile. When I saw that it was America Ferrera who did the voice all I could think was "Well, that explains it, she is a great actress too!" I have to say, if you are going to see a 3D Imax film, this is the one. The flying scenes took me back to the opening night of "The Empire Strikes Back" with the little airborne speeders racing over the ice and snow. Yow! There is a good reason I think 3D is more than a fad; the visuals here are the primary one.
I also saw "Kick-Ass". Be warned; if potty mouthed 12 year old girls in pony tails are going to shock you, don't be eating or drinking when Hit Girl first shows up. The people in front of you will get really pissed. This movie was funny as hell, and about as politically correct and sensitive as a Beavis and Butthead meet South Park film would be. This film makes no excuses for the level of profanity, masturbation jokes, violence or cleavage shots; and while they don't all get used, I am reasonably certain that all the guns Neo and Trinity did not use were grabbed up by the armourer Damian Mitchell, and the props head. Rudolf Vrba did a great job on the fights; by the time Hit Girl starts, well, kicking ass, nothing she does ( a wall run and flip? ) looks remotely silly. Aside from the fact she is a homicidal maniac, she does a good job being second place in the cute department (for a 12 year old; back off folks (GR) ). As the love interest Lyndsey Fonseca (who is a respectable 24... pfftthhhbbb..) is extremely funny, and VERY pretty. Christopher Minz also has a good part, and actually ties back to "How to Train Your Dragon" as the voice of Fishlegs..
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tears like steel rain
I lost a friend not long ago. I wasn't home when the news came; I got it 12 hours late. Not that it was news I wanted, but I feel I should somehow have known, and checked sooner. Maybe I did, and it was just that all the other mundane things got in the way of the signal. Maybe I thought the reason I woke up early was because I knew I had to be up at 8 AM, not because that was when the first call came, to the home I was not in. Maybe that's why I woke in the middle of the night; not because the dogs where I was staying jumped in bed with me, but because that was when she left, trying to say goodbye one last time.
I'm filled with a variety of emotions, swirling like a tornado, boiling like lava. They scald and whip me, or leave me in a deceptive calm, the eye of a raging storm. Pain, guilt, anger, and love; all twisting about each other, each one striving for precedence. The pain of losing one you love, one you care for, one you trust is obvious. Its natural, and part of the price you pay for loving and caring. It's the dark flip-side of the bright shiny coin of love; and that bright side is worth the risk of exposure to the dark, ten times over if not more.
The guilt is there too; no logic anchors it, no common sense sways it. Would she be alive today if I had been awake, 3000 miles distant? What if I had called again the day before, since I was doing nothing else at the time? Or if I had gone to visit on her birthday? Maybe told her I was planning on a surprise visit? Perhaps if I hadn't flipped off that driver who didn't signal? Which butterfly in China needed to live, or to die, so that the flapping of wings created a breeze of energy that swept across the globe and held her here? The heart does not know logic. It knows only the now; and right now, all it knows is loss. Like a selfish child it wants, and needs, and no pale thing like practicality will bend it from it's path. When the mind gets dragged in, guilt is the savage goad that lurks around every corner.
Anger is there too; it is never the first emotion felt. Pain is the first, but anger often follows it. In this case too, there is no logic. I am angry at the doctors who didn't do enough or did too much; at the insurance companies who were slow or stupid; at the nurses or even the kitchen staff who made small mistakes. I am angry at petty gods, stupid fates wielding shears, malicious deities and stupid karmic wheels. I am angry at myself for not being there; for not saving her; for not bringing her back; and angry at myself for being angry. And yes, I am angry with her as well. Angry with her for not staying longer, angry with her for not being continually amazing, angry with her for being human; angry with her for hurting me and leaving me.
The occasional calm, deceptive as it is, has one bonus. In that stillness I can hear her voice again. Like that one faint wisp of Hope, still there in Pandora's box, I hear it whisper to me. In those moments I can hear the love, remember the laughter, the moments holding her when that was what she needed; I can feel her hand in mine, or her fingers running through my hair or across my face. Her other friends, her husband and her son, they are there too, sharing the hurt, and the love, and we lean against each other there in the all too short lull; Patrick, Michael, Christina, Randy, Mykael, Stephanie and the rest, like fragile reeds on the verge of a monsoon.
The pain is gone for that brief moment, and I know that eventually, I will turn my inner eye and the storm will have passed; only the peace and love will remain. But in the meantime the tears fall, and strike like steel rain.
Elayne Rachel Fong Chi Sai Yac Lan 3/20/1962 4/11/2010
I'm filled with a variety of emotions, swirling like a tornado, boiling like lava. They scald and whip me, or leave me in a deceptive calm, the eye of a raging storm. Pain, guilt, anger, and love; all twisting about each other, each one striving for precedence. The pain of losing one you love, one you care for, one you trust is obvious. Its natural, and part of the price you pay for loving and caring. It's the dark flip-side of the bright shiny coin of love; and that bright side is worth the risk of exposure to the dark, ten times over if not more.
The guilt is there too; no logic anchors it, no common sense sways it. Would she be alive today if I had been awake, 3000 miles distant? What if I had called again the day before, since I was doing nothing else at the time? Or if I had gone to visit on her birthday? Maybe told her I was planning on a surprise visit? Perhaps if I hadn't flipped off that driver who didn't signal? Which butterfly in China needed to live, or to die, so that the flapping of wings created a breeze of energy that swept across the globe and held her here? The heart does not know logic. It knows only the now; and right now, all it knows is loss. Like a selfish child it wants, and needs, and no pale thing like practicality will bend it from it's path. When the mind gets dragged in, guilt is the savage goad that lurks around every corner.
Anger is there too; it is never the first emotion felt. Pain is the first, but anger often follows it. In this case too, there is no logic. I am angry at the doctors who didn't do enough or did too much; at the insurance companies who were slow or stupid; at the nurses or even the kitchen staff who made small mistakes. I am angry at petty gods, stupid fates wielding shears, malicious deities and stupid karmic wheels. I am angry at myself for not being there; for not saving her; for not bringing her back; and angry at myself for being angry. And yes, I am angry with her as well. Angry with her for not staying longer, angry with her for not being continually amazing, angry with her for being human; angry with her for hurting me and leaving me.
The occasional calm, deceptive as it is, has one bonus. In that stillness I can hear her voice again. Like that one faint wisp of Hope, still there in Pandora's box, I hear it whisper to me. In those moments I can hear the love, remember the laughter, the moments holding her when that was what she needed; I can feel her hand in mine, or her fingers running through my hair or across my face. Her other friends, her husband and her son, they are there too, sharing the hurt, and the love, and we lean against each other there in the all too short lull; Patrick, Michael, Christina, Randy, Mykael, Stephanie and the rest, like fragile reeds on the verge of a monsoon.
The pain is gone for that brief moment, and I know that eventually, I will turn my inner eye and the storm will have passed; only the peace and love will remain. But in the meantime the tears fall, and strike like steel rain.
Elayne Rachel Fong Chi Sai Yac Lan 3/20/1962 4/11/2010
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