Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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Monday, July 25, 2011 M. Ovie Reviews: Thor Still powering through my backlog of unreviewed movies. It hasn't been quite two months since I saw this, so it's still pretty fresh in my mind. Don't worry. I'm glad to say that my habit of seeing movies while almost completely ignorant of their source material is holding up. I knew very little about Thor going in; just what everyone else knows, plus a joke about Thor deciding to go down to earth to get some human poontang that ends with the punchline, "You think you're Thor? I can hardly thit!" Luckily, Febrifuge was along as my guide. He was the ideal companion to see this movie with, because he is not only a long-time comics fan, but also Nordic. And he dug it, so there you go. Of the few reviews I read of this movie, critics seemed to be divided pretty starkly into Earth and Asgard camps, according to which sequences they preferred. I can see both sides. On the one hand, Asgard is everything that Clash of the Titans tried and failed to do with Mount Olympus: gorgeous, eye-popping, colorful. On the other hand, I really dig New Mexico. Thor the character starts out as a guy you hate: a stubborn, arrogant dickhead who needs to be taken down a few hundred notches. Fortunately, he soon is, at least cosmologically. But he's not actually humbled until quite a bit later in the movie, and despite his plummy British accent, charming smile, and well-conditioned blond bob, it's kind of hard to root for him until that happens. Then, feel free. And speaking of cosmology, it's a pretty bold move to make Thor's best earth friends scientists who are trying to figure out the workings of the universe that Thor hops around in like a subway commuter. The band of physicists led by Natalie Portman (as all groups of scientists containing Stellan Skarsgård invariably are) just happens to be working on some grand unified theory that just happens to match up with Thor's nine realms. Lucky, that. It just goes to show that if you're going to go into theoretical physics, best to keep things vague so there's still room for a comic-book superhero to drop in and say you're pretty much right. Even I know that you can't tell a Thor story without Loki, but I have to admit Loki threw me for a curve on this one. He's Loki, what do you want? Even knowing to look for him, I didn't realize who he was for his first few scenes, because who ever expects Loki to be the biggest sourpuss on the screen? But that works to the film's advantage. One always expects the Norse God of Mischief to at least look a little…you know…mischievous. But even when he's playing the trickster, his "Ain't I a stinker" face is about as convincing as Jack Bauer's. Which is not a bad thing. In a way, the biggest trick he plays is on the audience, because when you think you've got a handle on Loki's plan and motives, you're wrong. Which is cool. So I will say that you don't have to be a big fan of comics or Norse mythology to enjoy Thor. I will say it helps to have seen both Iron Man movies, because then you'll catch a nice shout-out or two and also know to stick around until the very end of the credits. And the movie wisely leaves a few questions open, chief among them the issue of whether Natalie Portman can still thit. posted by M. Giant 9:05 PM 0 comments 0 Comments:Thursday, July 21, 2011 M. Ovie Reviews: Kung Fu Panda 2 Oh my god, I know, right? I am sooo behind on my movie reviews it's embarrassing. Not as embarrassing as some of the movies I've been putting off reviewing, but no more. I'm going to bite the bullet and get through all of the biggest movies of May. So anyway, Kung Fu Panda 2. I didn't see the first one (I think it was the last movie Trash got to take M. Edium to and it's been all me ever since), so I can't really compare it. But that's okay right? Shouldn't all sequels be judged on their own merits? Well, that's what I'd like to do, but I was constantly reminded that this was my first Kung Fu Panda movie. There are plenty of scenes with the Furious Five working well together as a team, which made me wonder how they got together. And Po is a Kung Fu master throughout, so I missed that whole learning curve thing. But it was quite beautifully animated and voice-acted, with nicely expressive animated characters and all that. The only thing is that I wish I'd known more about the heavy adoption subplot. When Po's dad (a duck voiced by H!ITG James Hong) clatters into the picture without any immediate comment, I was all happy about finally seeing a kid's movie with a subtly positive message about adoption. Especially after Tangled. But then it quickly goes off the rails, as Mr. Ping's tearful confession to his son that he adopted him sends Po spiraling into an identity crisis, and heading off to save China without acknowledging Mr. Ping as his dad. And then Tigress mocks Po (if gently) for not realizing earlier that the duck wasn't his biological father? Not cool. It doesn't improve from there. There's a sequence in which desperate circumstances force Po's panda parent to abandon him in the forest, seen from the point of view of the helpless panda cub. It's not uncommon for adopted children to have abandonment issues, so I had to be very conscious of how this might be affecting M. Edium, which distracted me from fully enjoying the spectacular final action sequence. He seemed fine, though, as always. Mainly, he was interested in knowing who gave such an excellent performance as the villainous peacock, Shen. My superpower had failed me in this case, so we had to stay for the credits to learn that it was Gary Oldman. Now Gary Oldman is M. Edium's favorite actor. We're halfway through Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban right now, and so far the most dramatic revelation is that Gary Oldman played Sirius Black in the movie. And when he was watching a Pokémon movie a few weeks later, he speculated that one of the voices in it might be that of Gary Oldman. I thought not, but how awesome would Gary Oldman be in a Pokémon movie? Oldman (in an intense whisper): "Gotta catch 'em all." Henchman: What do you mean all? Oldman: AAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!! But back to KFP2. In the car on the way home I wanted make sure he was okay. We went over the whole familiar narrative about how his birth parents loved him and wanted to be sure he'd be safe and have a good home, just like Po's panda parents (although the latter went about it quite differently). "I don't want to talk about this," he insisted. When we got home, Trash could tell he was upset about something, and in private he admitted to her that although the adoption themes didn't bother him, the leaving-in-the-forest scene got to him a little. Hell, it got to me. By the end, Po has embraced his adopted dad, but the final shot of the film not only sets up a third film, but indicates that the whole can of worms will be getting opened again. Hot damn. It's just too bad that the filmmakers couldn't have spoken to someone who's close to adoption or has an adoption story of their own, to maybe help them handle these issues a little more sensitively. If only Angelina Jolie had been available to them somehow. posted by M. Giant 10:26 AM 2 comments 2 Comments:Angelina Jolie is Tigress.
By I'm fairly certain he knew that. I am also fairly certain that's why he used her name in particular, instead of, say, Mariska Hargitay.
By Sunday, July 17, 2011 Open Sesame With M. Edium out of the house for the weekend, I thought I'd take my lovely wife out for a fun, romantic evening. But instead we scoped out a local open mike night. For the first time ever. Here's the thing: we both like live music, but who wants to go pay a cover charge for a band we might not even like? This way's much better. You find a place, you have a few drinks, you listen to some music. And if you don't like the singer, wait a few minutes for the next one. And I will gladly say that we did not like the singer every time. Trash liked the high-voiced kid who sang long, minor-chord ruminations on longing and loss and having been born to late to play in The Church or The Smiths more than I did, but not by much. Neither of us cared for the runty, dreadlocked douche who half-rapped some of what I'm thought he was sure was trenchant social commentary about the world being wack and then left two minutes later, making his friend carry his guitar. The good news is they only got two songs each. I think Trash kind of kept forgetting that, because during that first guy's set, she told me to ask for our bill, and then we ordered another round, and then during that second guy's set she was more than ready to go. I had to keep reminding her that the people who would normally drive her right out of the bar would probably be done by the time we got to the door. Besides the lamers were in the minority here. There were some surprisingly talented singer-songwriters, and Trash even bought one of their CDs so she can hear more than two of her songs. There was also a middle-aged guy who was going to play a very minor 80s new wave hit that I remember well, because it turned out that he was in the band recorded it, but then he couldn't remember the words and sang something else instead. Too bad, because I totally could have hollered the lyrics out to him. Not all of the interesting stuff happened onstage, either. There was a guy who kept lurking behind Trash, close enough to smell the bacon in her shirt if she'd had any in there. Trash texted me, "I have a friend behind me." I thought she was talking about someone at the next table, but it later turned out that she was referring to some dude breathing down her neck right around the corner where I couldn't see him from my seat. It was an outer corner, you see. Nobody puts Trash in the other kind of corner. We also enjoyed the two teenagers in polo shirts who kept walking back and forth holding their trendy single-malts so everyone could see them. Which we did. We also noticed that the level of the liquid never seemed to get any lower. "Do we notice those things because we're older?" Trash asked me on the way home. "No, we always laughed at people like that," I said. As we left, the last performer we heard had just finished a keening song about desperately needing someone's body. Which seemed to make her girlfriend at a nearby table a little uncomfortable. So in short, next time you're wondering where to go out, consider an open mike night. We'll probably do it again, so who knows? There's a chance you might even run into us. Unless you're not in the Twin Cities and it's a night when M. Edium is home. Then the chances of that are pretty remote. posted by M. Giant 9:57 PM 1 comments 1 Comments:I've had this entry saved so I would remember to ask about the minor hit. As I majored in obscure 80's new wave songs, please do tell!
By Wednesday, July 13, 2011 M. Ovie Reviews: Cars 2 The day M. Edium and I saw this, we weren't planning to. Our original plan was to drive from our rented cabin in West Yellowstone, Montana to the Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park. But there was a 30-minute construction delay marked on the park road map, so we set out to find an alternate route. Here's something we learned about Yellowstone National Park: it doesn't have alternate routes. If it's not on the map, it's not there. Must have had something to do with the solid wall of mountains. Anyway, by the time we were able to finally take a left, we had been on the road for an hour and a half and were all the way up in Bozeman. So forget the Mammoth Hot Springs. Instead, M. Edium and I went to see Cars 2 while Trash sat out in the lobby reading her Kindle and ogling Neville Longbottom on a big HP7P2 standup (even I was like, Yowza!). So here's what I have to say about Cars 2: Some sequels are just an effort to cash in. Others are attempts to correct mistakes made in the original. Cars 2 is both. Hear me out. I think at some point, Pixar realized they'd screwed the pooch with the original film in a very vital sense. Setting most of the story in a tiny town populated by like eight cars? How many toys are they going to sell that way? You buy your kids the whole population of Radiator Springs, plus a few alternate versions of Lightning McQueen, and you're done. At one point I was actually reduced to buying M. Edium a completely unaffiliated Dale Earnhardt, Jr. Matchbox car and telling him it was "Junior from Cars." Now, I know that they later came up with a whole garage full of other toys like "Brand-New Mater" and mini versions of the cameo cars from the end credits, but even with the whole "World of Cars" stuff that's been on shelves for the last few years that are almost completely composed of total flights of fancy, they've obviously been flailing. Well, it's beyond obvious that they weren't going to make the same mistake with the second movie. This time, they can sell the whole Radiator Springs crew yet again, even though the original supporting cast barely has cameos. Mater's the hero of this new film, and he meets plenty of cars along his globehopping adventures, each of whom will raise millions in merch sales. Chief among these is Finn McMissile (Michael Caine), a steel-nerved British spy car bristling with gadgets. Of course you'll need to buy a different version of Finn for every gadget. There's also Holly Shiftwell (Emily Mortimer) in a fetching fuchsia paint job, for girls who thought sky-blue Porsche Sally from the original was a little too butch. There's a whole motorpool of villains, including one voiced by Joe Mantegna. There's Land Rover Miles Axelrod (Eddie Izzard) and Formula car Francesco Bernoulli (John Turturro) and a colossal dump truck that not only provides a cheap tractor-tipping callback but will also tip the price point scale north of fifty bucks. There are cameos by world leaders, like the Queen of England car and the Popemobile, the latter of which will come in a two-pack. Even Mater gets into it, as a short scene of him playing with disguise technology gives us brief glimpses of different versions of himself that are probably flying off shelves as I write this. Just don't ask me how you're going to be able to tell your Ivan truck from your Mater-In-Disguise-As-Ivan truck. And that's not even getting into all the possibilities for playsets that the new film's many locations opens up. Pixar makes Tokyo, Paris, Italy, and London look fantastic, but they'll look even better in your kid's playroom, am I right? So as far as making a movie that lives up to the towering Pixar legacy, Cars 2 comes up a little short. But in terms of opening up a merchandising gold mine, it's a tour de force. Of course, I will have to get M. Edium a toy of the car voiced by Bruce Campbell. I'm only human, right? posted by M. Giant 10:15 AM 0 comments 0 Comments:Thursday, July 07, 2011 XM-I Getting on Your Nerves Yet? Part 2 As with last year's road trip, Trash is taking advantage of the long miles to torment me with XM radio. And this time, she documented it on Twitter, which, even though she limits her followers, will be excellent evidence for the prosecution. There are specific rules: One, we have to listen to the song to the end. If Trash can't make it, it doesn't count, and she didn't tweet it. Second, she only tweets when I'm unhappy, so there are any number of songs that would be embarrassing to both of us. Three, one artist is banned. A second one was today. As you will see. Four, I am not allowed to turn down the volume, even though I can reach it better than she can. Five, no swearing allowed, because M. Edium's days of napping in the car are over. With those rules in mind, witness the horror: you will be thrilled to hear that once again I intend to torment @mgiant w/bad music on our road trip. 1st up: Oh Sherry. I love XM radio. I should have been gone. HAHAHAHA Chris DeBurgh Don't pay the ferryman. OMG this one is too much for me. Really no way to top it. Which is not to say she didn't try. Ah yes, anything by Matchbox 20 will make @mgiant shudder. Have to remember that. Joke's on her. Matchbox 20 has several songs I actively tolerate. Marriage is give and take. Just sat through Ugly Kid Joe's Everything About You. SIGH. I love that song because it's such a textbook example of a one-hit wonder. Ah yes, a family favorite: Mambo #5. I can't believe she played this with our child in the car. @mgiant has no heart. Wham's Careless Whisper doesn't cause ANY happy feelings. As Pamie said, it's not a happy song. Besides, I was happy when it's over. @mgiant always packs CDs for our road trips. Does he actally think that will distract me? Because no. I was hoping to hear some Mumford & Sons aside from the three songs that are currently on XM's rotation. That band has to be the greatest boon to Irish pub bands and other purveyors of deedly-deedly since beer. Even The Nights Are Better is making @mgiant angry about how it's a rip-off of Arthur's Theme. #missingthepoint Usually an accusation of plagiarism is enough to make her turn the channel. Oh it is going to be a good morning! You Needed Me by Anne Murray makes @mgiant cry angry tears. I drove Anne Murray to the airport once. She complimented my driving. She was a nice passenger. Unlike some people. Wow. What are the chances that You Light Up My Life will actually cause @mgiant to self-harm? Stay tuned! Actually, I find that song inspirational. If I can survive it, I can survive anything. While listening to Killing Me Softly @mgiant stated that he doesn't plan to do it softly. You are my all witnesses! Dammit. OMG! It's OMC's How Bizarre. @mgiant is a lucky lucky man. I would have been luckier if the song had been further along when she found it on the dial. First up this morning? Jody Watley's Don't You Want Me? @mgiant: HELL NO. Guess that answers that. Reunited by Peaches & Herb. YES YES YES. Except @mgiant's response was "What the hell are we listening to??" Neanderthal. I never listened to the words before. Now I know why. Followed by Wind Beneath My Wings! XM is on FIRE. Or at least @mgiant wishes it were. Or wishes *I* were. Hahaha All of the firestarters were in the back of the truck. @mgiant: Isn't this that Katy Perry song she sang w/elmo? me: yes! @mgiant: but you hate both of them! me: hehehehe Color Me Bad should make even the coldest heart melt, but clearly @mgiant has a heart of stone. By this point, I hadd retreated into myself. For those of you wondering if there is any music off-limits, the only *artist* @mgiant has banned is Steve Miller. He HATES him. I would explain, but once I get started ranting on this I'll have trouble stopping. Interesting. Who would have thought the song to almost make @mgiant cry would be Hard Habit to Break. Sure, it's sad, but still... He's addicted to her! It's so sad! How Scritti Politti could make @mgiant say "you really hate me" I will never understand. This song RULES. I actually don't hate this song as much as I remembered hating it. And there was a good chance she'd have kept looking for something worse. Hahahaha Ginuwine's Ride My Pony. Poor @mgiant seems to be considering walking the rest of the way. But not if I could find a pony. A two-fer: Mr Big (Be with you) followed by Gerado (Rico Suave). @mgiant seems resigned. This was at about eight thousand feet in the Grand Teton mountains. I had to conserve my oxygen. @mgiant has a new way to fight the music: slowly turning down the sound Hell No. It was worth a try. Yes Yes Yes: High On You by Survivor. I note we are HIGH in the mountains. @mgiant just sighs. I'm just going to sigh again now. The Do Run Run Run! Shawn Cassidy! even better than Old Faithful! But it was close. @mgiant has called a ban on all songs by Capt & Tenille. 2nd artist after Steve Miller to recve full ban. Harsh! She calls it harsh. I call it self-preservation. The good news is that there's only one day of driving left. The bad news is that she's considering getting XM permanently. Send help. posted by M. Giant 10:50 PM 3 comments 3 Comments:How can you hate the Steve Miller Band? How is that even possible?
By My friends and I like to call it "Killing me softly with insults." Because that's what it sounds like. And what it feels like.
By It's sad that I know this, but it's "Da Do Ron Ron" that Shaun Cassidy sang in the 70s.
By XM-I Getting on Your Nerves Yet? Part 2 As with last year's road trip, Trash is taking advantage of the long miles to torment me with XM radio. And this time, she documented it on Twitter, which, even though she limits her followers, will be excellent evidence for the prosecution. There are specific rules: One, we have to listen to the song to the end. If Trash can't make it, it doesn't count, and she didn't tweet it. Second, she only tweets when I'm unhappy, so there are any number of songs that would be embarrassing to both of us. Three, one artist is banned. A second one was today. As you will see. Four, I am not allowed to turn down the volume, even though I can reach it better than she can. Five, no swearing allowed, because M. Edium's days of napping in the car are over. With those rules in mind, witness the horror: you will be thrilled to hear that once again I intend to torment @mgiant w/bad music on our road trip. 1st up: Oh Sherry. I love XM radio. I should have been gone. HAHAHAHA Chris DeBurgh Don't pay the ferryman. OMG this one is too much for me. Really no way to top it. Which is not to say she didn't try. Ah yes, anything by Matchbox 20 will make @mgiant shudder. Have to remember that. Joke's on her. Matchbox 20 has several songs I actively tolerate. Marriage is give and take. Just sat through Ugly Kid Joe's Everything About You. SIGH. I love that song because it's such a textbook example of a one-hit wonder. Ah yes, a family favorite: Mambo #5. I can't believe she played this with our child in the car. @mgiant has no heart. Wham's Careless Whisper doesn't cause ANY happy feelings. As Pamie said, it's not a happy song. Besides, I was happy when it's over. @mgiant always packs CDs for our road trips. Does he actally think that will distract me? Because no. I was hoping to hear some Mumford & Sons aside from the three songs that are currently on XM's rotation. That band has to be the greatest boon to Irish pub bands and other purveyors of deedly-deedly since beer. Even The Nights Are Better is making @mgiant angry about how it's a rip-off of Arthur's Theme. #missingthepoint Usually an accusation of plagiarism is enough to make her turn the channel. Oh it is going to be a good morning! You Needed Me by Anne Murray makes @mgiant cry angry tears. I drove Anne Murray to the airport once. She complimented my driving. She was a nice passenger. Unlike some people. Wow. What are the chances that You Light Up My Life will actually cause @mgiant to self-harm? Stay tuned! Actually, I find that song inspirational. If I can survive it, I can survive anything. While listening to Killing Me Softly @mgiant stated that he doesn't plan to do it softly. You are my all witnesses! Dammit. OMG! It's OMC's How Bizarre. @mgiant is a lucky lucky man. I would have been luckier if the song had been further along when she found it on the dial. First up this morning? Jody Watley's Don't You Want Me? @mgiant: HELL NO. Guess that answers that. Reunited by Peaches & Herb. YES YES YES. Except @mgiant's response was "What the hell are we listening to??" Neanderthal. I never listened to the words before. Now I know why. Followed by Wind Beneath My Wings! XM is on FIRE. Or at least @mgiant wishes it were. Or wishes *I* were. Hahaha All of the firestarters were in the back of the truck. @mgiant: Isn't this that Katy Perry song she sang w/elmo? me: yes! @mgiant: but you hate both of them! me: hehehehe Color Me Bad should make even the coldest heart melt, but clearly @mgiant has a heart of stone. By this point, I hadd retreated into myself. For those of you wondering if there is any music off-limits, the only *artist* @mgiant has banned is Steve Miller. He HATES him. I would explain, but once I get started ranting on this I'll have trouble stopping. Interesting. Who would have thought the song to almost make @mgiant cry would be Hard Habit to Break. Sure, it's sad, but still... He's addicted to her! It's so sad! How Scritti Politti could make @mgiant say "you really hate me" I will never understand. This song RULES. I actually don't hate this song as much as I remembered hating it. And there was a good chance she'd have kept looking for something worse. Hahahaha Ginuwine's Ride My Pony. Poor @mgiant seems to be considering walking the rest of the way. But not if I could find a pony. A two-fer: Mr Big (Be with you) followed by Gerado (Rico Suave). @mgiant seems resigned. This was at about eight thousand feet in the Grand Teton mountains. I had to conserve my oxygen. @mgiant has a new way to fight the music: slowly turning down the sound Hell No. It was worth a try. Yes Yes Yes: High On You by Survivor. I note we are HIGH in the mountains. @mgiant just sighs. I'm just going to sigh again now. The Do Run Run Run! Shawn Cassidy! even better than Old Faithful! But it was close. @mgiant has called a ban on all songs by Capt & Tenille. 2nd artist after Steve Miller to recve full ban. Harsh! She calls it harsh. I call it self-preservation. The good news is that there's only one day of driving left. The bad news is that she's considering getting XM permanently. Send help. posted by M. Giant 10:50 PM 1 comments 1 Comments:Surely hating Steve Miller requires no explanation?
By Tuesday, July 05, 2011 Best and Brightest There wasn't anything going on at the conference Saturday afternoon, so Trash and M. Edium and I got in the pickup we'd borrowed from my dad for this trip and drove down into the quaint, wooden-sidewalked, tourist-trap town of Jackson for dinner. Before heading back, we thought it wise to fill up the gas tank, since we're staying in a national park a half hour from the nearest commercial gas station. I had had a beer with dinner, so I went to jettison it while the tank was filling. Too bad the truck doesn't run on the kind of fuel that might have allowed me to conduct both tasks in the same place. So I came back out and pulled the nozzle out of the tank. I had presumed that it had gotten full during my time in the bathroom, but I'm still not used to the gargantuan tank on this thing, which meant it was still filling. So of course gas spewed everywhere, including my clothes and shoes, before I figured out how to turn it off. Then I topped off the tank, which took three more seconds. If only I'd been a little slower. Anyway, I wasn't about to get in my dad's truck with clothes reeking of gas, especially given how he's spending our time away replacing my car's back seat to get rid of the gas smell. Seemed like bad karma to give him the same problem that he was fixing for me. So we ended up driving back to the cabin with me wearing a hoodie I had in the back seat, and my underwear. One feels a little awkward driving in one's underwear, even out here in this remote paradise. Because there was the traffic backup where the herd of bison was crossing the road and Trash nearly got into a fight with someone who persisted in blocking the road even when it was clear, and then there was the park ranger at the entry booth I had to talk to, and then Trash said that after we got back to the cottage and I had new pants, I needed to get the truck's windshield washed, since I didn't squeegee it in my underwear at the gas station where I'd taken the first steps toward immolating myself. So then we get to the cottage and I'm like, "So you'll bring some pants out for me?" and Trash was like, "No." "Seriously," I said. "Seriously, no," she said. I tried to get M. Edium on my side, but he just laughed at me. Then they both got out of the truck and left me sitting there in my hoodie and underwear. "Any pants at all!" I hollered after them out the truck window. After a minute or so, Trash thought it was hilarious to send M. Edium out with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. His, of course. "You'll stop laughing when I put these on and bust them out," I warned. Shortly thereafter ,Trash sent him back with the worst pair of shorts I'd packed, a red rayon number with "Bacardi" on one leg for some reason. So at least I was able to get out of the truck again. I still had work to do. I showered before I caught fire from a stray spark. I got my highly flammable clothes out of the cargo bed where Trash had tossed them, then washed them in the sink as best I could using hand soap and a drain plug that wouldn't stay closed. I left my tennis shoes out on the patio to let the fumes disperse. I drove to the park's closed service station and cleaned the windshield. Time passed. A while later, Trash pulled up my Gmail on her new Kindle and handed it to me. I don't touch the thing if I can help it, because I don't want to get blamed when it breaks (a strategy that already succeeded, when her "old" Kindle crashed in South Dakota). I couldn't make any actual e-mails open, so Trash convinced me to walk up to the lodge with my laptop and use the Wi-Fi there to read the emails that were showing as new. I didn't bother changing clothes, because by now it was almost eleven PM and there hadn't been any conference stuff going on for many hours, so I figured the lobby would be abandoned. I was wrong. So here I was among some of the most eminent and fascinating people of our time, wearing Bacardi shorts and a t-shirt that said "It's Just Safer To Assume I Know Karate." And this was at a time and place for which I had very recently spent hundreds of dollars on clothes so that I wouldn't look like an idiot. As an added bonus, the timing corresponded to one of Gmail's outages, so instead of being able to get in and out of there quickly like I'd hoped, I sat there for ten minutes staring at "Loading..." and other error messages to avoid eye contact with any of the astronauts or university professors I'd met earlier in the day. Finally I slunk back to our room. A few minutes later, Trash tried to pull up Gmail on her phone. This time it worked. We read the unread message. It was a message we had already opened and read that morning, and apparently marked as unread. So I had just presented myself to my fellow attendees dressed as a gym hobo for nothing, on several levels. This really has been a unique and remarkable experience. posted by M. Giant 4:25 PM 1 comments 1 Comments:This is hilarious.
By Saturday, July 02, 2011 Overheard I'm at a conference right now in the Grand Tetons (and whoever named them that never met my wife), and it's pretty amazing. It's basically hanging out with the Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World times two hundred. Strict confidentiality rules prohibit me from naming any names, but I can tell you that I've met some fascinating, if not famous, individuals. Brilliant entrepreneurs, scientists, historians, former elected officials, and inventors are all here. It's by invitation only. Who invited me, you ask? I'm still working on that. All I know is that this fancy vellum envelope arrived in the mail about two years ago, and I thought I was being invited to a timeshare presentation or something. But then Trash looked into it and quickly figured out that not only is it for real, it's something I really needed to go to. This road trip we're on is kind of built around my attending this thing here in Jackson Hole, surrounded by Lord of the Rings mountains. I'm in seminars and lectures most of the day, M. Edium is in activities they offer for the kids, and Trash is exploring the grounds in and around the lodge, and working on a few projects. While admiring the ridonkulously spectacular view from the back patio, she overheard this, which was not from a Renaissance participant: "You know, if I'm on a mission trip, and I have to share a room, or worse, a bathroom? Well, where's the appreciation?" I've heard amazing talks on advances in so many fields these last couple days. But in just that one remark, Trash learned about some amazing advances in entitlement and missing the point. posted by M. Giant 6:41 AM 1 comments 1 Comments:Two steps forward...three steps back. Hope you guys are having a great time.
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