New Year's Resolutions, finally

RESOLUTIONS:


Okay, so here’s the deal. I like to make resolutions, but, well, I’m weird. I don’t really look at them again until the year is over. Works this way—a good resolution related to self-improvement should be inherent in your daily living. I mean, it shouldn’t be such a radical change that you can’t function. It should be organic, a natural part of a human’s life.

I believe strongly in competitive theory. I told everyone when I was quitting smoking, so it was much more motivating knowing people were going to ask me about the process. If I didn’t do it, I’d have to answer to that. So I’ll go ahead and post my resolutions right here and right now. That way, I cannot escape them!

SPIRITUAL:

--I really want to get back to some kind of spirituality. It’s something that my weekly living is missing. Yeah, we all know the church is no friend of mine, that’s for sure, especially recently, but I cannot help thinking I’m missing something. I used to meditate daily. But with the daily early mornings and the need to get so far south, I reduced and then eliminated for ease of getting to work. Night time had never been a good time for me to meditate. Still, I need something.

OPTIONS: When the house in Colorado sells—I’ll probably think I need to be in the ‘thanking’ position. There’s a cute little congregational church right in the heart of downtown. I’d love to go once or twice and see what they have to offer.

Return to meditation in some format. It’s been too long.

PHYSICAL:

--walk the dog, at least once daily, at least 4 nights a week. It’s difficult to do twice a day when you have to be on the road by 6:30 am. HusOtter has promised he’d walk her those mornings. Still, I cannot help think that this is a wonderful thing in terms in meditation and physicality. Plus, I cannot with el puppo. And I get to listen to some of the greatest podcasts.

--investigate lawn bowling. One of the drawbacks of going to the gym is that I don’t really have a goal BEYOND just going to the gym. Grant you, the gym should be a reward upon itself, but I cannot help thinking there needs to be an event, some kind of test to see if it is actually working. I thought for a while that I was going to join some Celtic events, but since I couldn’t find any athletes in that area, how could I know or detail what I was doing? That may still be an option, I’ll keep looking around. However, our new landlord is on the committee for the International Lawn Bowling Association. They are looking for further players. I remember lawn bowling a bit too fondly. My aunts and uncles would play it, smacked out of their gourds when I was a kid, usually with a beer or wine glass in hand. There’s a HUGE set-up in walking distance of my new condo. And there are usually around 25 people competing. They are all retired. They take the lawn bowling very seriously.

But it’s a sport. And I’m here in Florida to grow as an individual. Might be time to learn. Besides, my hair is already gray.

---The gym. I want to go 100 times. I’ve given up on trying the whole weight loss thing. I’ve given up on measuring my biceps. I tend to go alone as it is, and so I have to reject the whole ‘comraderie’ bit. So, I’m keeping this goal simple. 100 times. I’ve done ten (actually, I’ve done more than ten times, but I’m rewarding myself only ten!). That means going to the gym. The rest? Well, we’ll see.

SOCIAL:

--This was a terrible year past for queer youth, frankly. And husOtter and myself have really, repeatedly returned to the fact that we have a stable home and decent income. We’re happy with our queerness and are Out and Proud. But we lack a uterus. And my job affords me an insight to something related to parenting…it basically sucks large codcock. I mean, really. But it also affords me an insight of successful ways of working around problems. I’ve also learned to ask for help whenever possible. I came across an article in the Orlando Sentienal the week that all those teens took their lives and it made an impression on me. They have so many gay and lesbian teens out there-thrown from their homes or runaway due to the fact they live in a red state—without a place to go. Foster systems try to place them, but since churches tend to be their conduit, those kids move into a place and find a bed and more hysteria. They live a life of being closeted.

Why can’t we help them? We have the means. Me? A parent? That might take a bit of getting used to. But it could be done, I believe. I hate to put a schedule on this, but I’d like to get the house sold first. My hopes are that it will happen in 2011. And when it does—this moves up on the list. I just hope we don’t get a lesbian teen who wants to play softball. I wouldn’t know what to do, other than to cheer her on.

The other option? Big Brothers and Big Sisters. I did it as a “little” for years. It’s time to return the favor!

INTELLECTUAL:

--I need to write more, that’s for sure.

--I have to blog once a month. I figure that is the minimal and will reduce my stress a bit. And I’m keeping an ongoing memo on my phone of writing ideas, so there’s really no excuse. Every movie can be reviewed. Every new eatery is open. And there’s always room for fiction.

--there’s a writing contest coming up for the local writing market in Mount Dora. I can’t help thinking I should enter it. However, the timing is short, very short.

--National Novel Writing Month is November. I need to look into trying that again. I’d like to get a break from the gym by then anyways.

---There’s a writing group at the public library when it’s open late by my new condo. There’s no excuse. I have several files of works I can bring in as a start.

Two Point Five Reviews

The power of a good movie is its rewatchability-every time you see it, something new pops off the screen. Now here’s the trick, mind you, it has nothing to do with the movie. It has everything to do with you in the audience. To admit that you’ve changed since the last twenty minutes since you’ve seen such a picture seems like a silly notion, but there is a truth to it. I used to work in a movie theatre. I remember having Batman on four different screens. However, even on days I saw it twice (we only had five screens, so my options during break were limited), I’d notice something different. Sometimes it was the choice of advertising by the filmmakers (“Is that a Camry she’s driving?”) or something deeper, like his house is like a bat’s cave—he hides in there even when he’s in there. But it happened.


I came to the documentary Man on Wire (a play on the words, ‘man of fire’) with a ton of baggage. My life is just starting to settle a few months into moving to Florida. I am starting to enjoy some of the simple pleasures a bit more of living among the palm trees and I can sit and watch a Netflix DVD without wondering about when my husOtter was going to move out or what I’d nuke for dinner this evening. Now, with a clearer head, I can see details that I didn’t see before.

In fact, I felt I probably liked this movie a bit more because of where I am standing and not so much for its actual content. The story surrounds a fascinating Frenchman named Phillip Petit. I call him fascinating, because if you were to bump into this gent in a 7-11, you’d go home with him. Not because he was hot or rich or even particularly good looking. He’s one of those men that has such an intensity that his personality brims with its own luminosity. I’m sure this is what happened to the filmmakers when they ran into him. He is unavoidable. Not only is he a man of powerful enthusaim, he was a circus performer. And, truly, he made it into a performance art-he walked tightropes.

I used to think of them as nothing much at the circuses I’ve experience. But think of your best friend talking about the hottie they just encountered. You never really cared for the person they are infatuated with. But your friend’s attitude is so high strung and involved, you can’t help but get sucked in. And that is what Phillip Petit did with this tiny art. His attitude caught me and brought me in. And, like a true artist, he had high hopes on what wires he’d like to walk on.

Really high hopes.

See, Phillip walked across the Twin Towers. Eight times.

And it was amazing.

Or was it.

Phillip saw the buildings as a challenge early in his career and made it his goal. All of his choices surrounded to making this a goal for himself. He prepared for it. He practiced. He even climbed other famous structures including the Sydney Bridge and the two towers of Notre Dame in Paris. Amazing stuff. His friends worked in tandem to help his dream come true. Truly amazing. And the film is structured like a documentary should be. We already know the outcome, as we tend to do in documentaries—so it is staggered between the actual moment of the act and meetings with his friends about the planning process.

So why did I like it so much?

Much like Rose in the musical Gypsy, I had a dream. I’ve always wanted to move to Florida. I really have, for quite some time. Even as a kid, vacationing here periodically, I saw the potential. I memorized the streets and drive times. I studied Disney World like Eisenhower planning the Omaha Beach invasion. I was a man with a purpose.

The purpose waned over time, an annoying gift brought on by the pangs of adulthood and the responsibilities of daily living. But when I met my husOtter and he confessed the same goal-it was back on the table. Now I’m thinking I’m publishing a blog entry on this move to Florida-but, in the meanwhile, let’s just say, well, I had much in common with Monsieur Petit.

So what I brought to the movie is what made this title even more potent. I enjoyed it—much like you might enjoy a Discovery Channel special on something you’ve never heard of. The novelty brought the audience in, the tenacity-about having a dream for your life—is what keeps you interested.

Now the holidays are over, but I get the time afforded to me to watch those good-but-boring movies you can’t just pop into the DVD player when running the dishwasher and dusting. The second title I watched also had volumes of baggage, my own personal baggage that is, attached to it.

I watched the Last Days, a brief segment of the entire “Shoah” library. Now, if you’re in the dark about the Shoah project, it’s an oral history captured on video of the Holocaust in Nazi Germany. The entire project seeks to make sure every aspect is documented by the survivors. Shoah is the Yiddish name for the Holocaust. It also is the name of a French picture that came out several years ago, that showed some of these segments.

This particular picture deals with five survivors during and their ordeal. Now this picture, though it isn’t truly answered, posits something very unique. Hitler, in the last days of World War Two, instead of diverting forces to the warfront, elected to accelerate his “final solution” against the Jewish populace.

Interesting choice. Instead of a final show of force, he chose to kill more and quickly those who had nothing against him other than existing. The question is never really answered. And the documentary does little towards showing new information-just more horror stories. Horror stories that were are somewhat, sadly familiar with.

Here’s the thing: remember what I said about what we get from a movie is what we bring to the table? Well, living in a nation that is so inherently angry with so much, I can see why something like the Nazis were formed. Here? We have the Tea Party, obviously a knee jerk organization that flits between out and out racism and fanaticism. Heck, they’re led by a yahoo who has no platform but is charismatic enough to rally everyone into a lather.

Take for example, The King’s Speech, which I also saw this weekend. I’ll write up something more formal later, but when King George the Sixth saw Hitler completing public speaking, his daughter asks what the Feurer is saying. The King responds, “I don’t know. But he seems to be saying it well.”

The fact is, America is angry (and, believe it or not, for no good reason, IMHO), and they will follow anyone who can rally them. This is what happened in Germany. This is how bad things happen.

It’s no secret I’m a minority. And my parents are Jewish. Such films rip into me like blades covered in iodine. But the fact is, I’m a teacher moreso. Kids today know of the Holocaust, but are still learning it. And we cannot forget. We never shall if I’m alive. But also, I’m one of those zingy happy people. I cannot dwell on the horrors.

But I will acknowledge them. Like by watching this movie. And making sure the good in the world grows just a bit more. And that we see the good everyone has to offer.

Two, (three if you count the King’s Speech) excellent pictures.