White and Nerdy

I stopped thinking "Weird Al" was funny about 15 years ago. Prior to that, he was a god to me. His new video is great, though, and I don't even know the song he parodies (it's "Ridin'" by Chamillionaire and Krayzie Bone).

One good part is the trivial pursuit card. The questions are:
In what city is the largest ball of twine built by one man?
What’s the deal with Lindsay Lohan? I mean, seriously?
FDR - was he faking it?
On what page does Harry Potter die in the next book?
What is the melting point of a gorilla’s head?
How many Wicket men are there on a 43-Man Squamish team?

Living Colour

I've been listening to Living Colour at work today, the hard rock band that was big briefly in the early 90s, broke up in about '95, then got back together in about 2002. When I was a kid, I used to listen to them and people would say, "Oh, like 'In Living Color'? Is it the Wayan's brothers?"

Fortunately (or, unfortunately, I guess, for them), now nobody seems to know either one. Their new album from a couple years ago, "Collideoscope," is actually decent. Lots of anger. Lots of politics. Lots of 9/11 & war stuff. One very creepy ballad, "Flying," that's a love story of sorts told by a guy jumping from the WTC. It's a pretty song melodically, especially in the context of the hard rock on most of the album.

Political and cultural rage was the path they were taking in the 90s, with their previously 'last' album, "Stain." It's probably not a smart marketing move to put a woman wearing a slave-era torture device on her head on your album cover. But it was a great album.

Anyway, that's what I'm listening to today.

Torgo trains for Tour de France (w/o drugs)

Drugs would make this easier.

My goal in riding my bike to work was to get some exercise and save some money -- parking isn't feasible, so the alternative was the train, which is super-convenient, stopping half a block from our apt, then right outside my office. But since I don't need to walk for the train, it takes away all exercise (unless I walk to a different stop, which seems dumb).

The train takes about 25-40 minutes one-way, depending on how busy it is. The bike takes 20-25 minutes going to work, 30-40 coming home. (Lots of downhill going to, lots of uphill coming from.) So, it's actually faster, almost always, to ride to work.

It's 5 miles, pretty much on the dot. So, to and from, M-F, that's 50 miles. But I have yet to ride 5 straight days. Usually, I ride Mon/Tue, take the train Wed, and then ride Thu/Fri.

Why? Because I'm weak. My legs hurt. Those hills coming back haunt me. By Friday, the only thing that keeps me going is the thought that I won't have to climb hills on the weekend. But this is often strangely negated by my climbing of hills on foot on weekends, sometimes pushing a stroller or carrying the boy.

So I put in about 40 miles each week. I'm slowly phasing into my existence as a biker. I bought gloves -- the cool ones without fingertips. Why don't they have fingertips? I'm not sure. They just look bad-ass in a very 1986 sort of way.

I also got a bell. That's less bad-ass. The bell is useless with stupid cars (or, as one warning near the end of a bike path puts it, 'death monsters'). The bell is for people on foot and other bikers. About 1/4 of the ride is through parks on paved trails, shared with people on foot. That includes parents with strollers (whom I sympathize with, granted); joggers and walkers (whom I don't mind sharing the paths with, except for this one guy who runs on the wrong side--maybe he's British, I think he's just a jerk); the homeless pushing their shopping carts laden with trash bags (SF is full of the homeless); and dog walkers.

I worry about hitting dogs. I don't want to. But I also don't want to use the bell. I think that a dog might hear the bell and go towards it. Why? Pavlov, maybe. I just don't want to hit a dog.

So far, in about 3 months of riding, I've only hit low-hanging trees with my head. I almost rode into a trash barrel once. I've had lots of close calls with cars. I witnessed a motorcycle cop pull over 2 SUVs making illegal left turns at the same time (each one thought he was pulling over the other -- he managed to get them both). I also discovered that the people who plant sprinklers in parks do so without regard to the paths. Once a week or so, I have to dodge some serious water. It's like a slip 'n slide on wheels.

This has been my biking post. Have a good night.

Torgo goes shopping

I walked the few blocks from my office to Union Square today. I didn't know what Union Square was, other than a small park. Turns out, it's a shopping district, with high-end jewelry stores, the Disney Store, a Border's, etc.

I was intending to go to Border's. Looking back, this was a mistake. I'm not loyal to BN just b/c I worked there for 3 years. In fact, I usually go to the Stacey's Bookstore (a great, huge, independent store) that's half a block from my office. But I needed something Stacey's didn't have. My counterpart in LA had luck at Border's, so I gave it a shot.

For anyone who's worked full time retail for an extended period of time, then left, you know how traumatic going back into a similar store can be. Ok, it's not really traumatic, it's just grating. I noticed all the things wrong in the store. First, it was messy. Second, no one offered to help me. In the department I was in, there was a young woman standing there talking with her friend about how she goes to Jack In The Box too often, how she loves the veggie subs at Subway, how she didn't go to Cheesecake Factory for her birthday.

The thing is, I really didn't want her to ask me if I needed help. I pretty much never want help. But I know she is supposed to ask me. That's pretty much her whole job. And in SF, where minimum wage is $8.50/hr, it's not asking that much to feign concern momentarily.

It's been a grumpy day. A couple of weeks ago, M-N got the shirt pictured here. This whole series of shirts and tote bags is great. (here's the website) What does this have to do with my trip to Union Square? Not much. I just wanted to share.

Psychology of a Torgo

Before they'd hire me, my company did a series of psychological profiles. Here's the summary from one (I only edited the name):

Torgo wants to make certain that detailed reports are accurately completed. This
tendency can be reassuring to Torgo's supervisors. While he may not be a perfectionist with all things, he has certain activities that will always be done with the same high standards in mind. He tends to be precise about his use of time and can become frustrated when others interrupt him when in the middle of a task. He can be sensitive about any comments regarding the quality of his work. He strives forward constantly to improvement in everything he does. Torgo prides himself on being incisive. He wants to get things done by proceeding with the facts that are at hand. Some people see him as being fussy and meticulous. He takes much pride in precise and accurate work, but others may not always understand his attention to details. To some people, Torgo may appear to be analytical. In conflict situations, Torgo usually remains calm and cool-headed. When things calm down, however, he may suffer some delayed reaction. Torgo prefers doing the job right the first time, rather than taking shortcuts that may lessen the quality of work. He sees it as the efficient way of task completion. He doesn't appreciate a dirty or messy work station, since he equates dirt and disorganization with lower quality work.

Torgo uses data and facts to support the big decisions, because it makes him feel
more confident that his decisions are correct. He usually judges others by the quality of their work. He may find it difficult to recognize others' strengths, if their work does not meet his high standards. He is a critical and systematic thinker, and this strength may not be easily recognized by others. He tends to make his decisions after deliberation and gives weight to all the pros and cons. Torgo tends to base decisions on the quality of work--not on efficiency. He has an acute awareness of social, economic and political implications of his decisions. He tends to become bogged down in details. He may accumulate so much data that the details overwhelm him. He can be seen as a thinker whose intuitive talents can bring divergent ideas to the forefront.

Torgo's logical, methodical way of gathering data is demonstrated by his ability to ask the right questions at the right time. People who show up early or late for appointments may upset him, since his work plans are disrupted. Torgo makes an agenda and prefers that others not change it. Torgo’s work represents his true self and he will take issue when people attack the quality of his work. He likes to know what is expected of him in a working relationship, and have the duties and responsibilities of others who will be involved explained. Communication is accomplished best by well-defined avenues. Torgo is usually soft-spoken, but his demeanor may be deceptive to those who work with him. He may possess strong and unwavering convictions that are not always apparent to others. He can be outgoing at times. Basically introverted, he will engage in social conversation when the occasion warrants. People may often see Torgo as formal and reserved. He may be assessing the situation before "letting his guard down" and may do so only when
he feels comfortable with the circumstances. Because Torgo wants to be certain he is
performing his work assignments correctly, he enjoys working for a manager who explains what is expected of him.


I think I sound like a British accountant.

Comics Curmudgeon

There's a part of me that's pissed off sometimes when I read a poem I like. I wish I'd thought of it first. Sometimes that happens with blogs, too. Particularly with people who have blogs w/purposes, like The Comics Curmudgeon.

Scroll down to the commentary on the "For Better or For Worse" comic here.

Movie review: Inside Man

Inside Man: Torgo approves

I approve, but not wholeheartedly. This is a Spike Lee movie. One of his last, 25th Hour, is one of the best movies I've seen in years. Coming off of that, this one is a letdown. Denzel Washington is great, as usual, and he has some strong material and strong directing to work with, but there are many flaws here.

Let me start with the good. Spike Lee loves New York City. I don't. But if anything could make me like NYC, it's the way Spike Lee seduces the viewer with its beauty. His camera finds the most alluring shots, more so than Woody Allen or Martin Scorcese, other directors with a similar love of the city. With Spike Lee, he romances you with the architecture and natural beauty. His affection is perfectly captured in the cinematography. This is something that has become, I think, more prevalent since 9/11, but was always there.

I mentioned already how good Denzel Washington is here. So is Willem Dafoe. He's one of my favorite actors. He has a small role, but does good things with it. Clive Owen is good, too.

That's the good, now the bad.

First, Jodie Foster. I thought I liked her, but recently I've realized that she's not that strong of an actress. Here, also, she suffers from bad writing. Whereas Denzel's role is written with lively, clever dialogue, everything that comes out of Foster's mouth is tedious and uninteresting. This goes for Christopher Plummer as well. His acting is a little stronger, but his character is a remnant from some 70's paranoia movie, like Marathon Man.

Which brings me to the plot. This is a bank heist movie. It acknowledges openly its debt to one other heist movie, Dog Day Afternoon, one of my favorites (in fact, two actors repeat their roles from that film here, according to IMDB). But it doesn't acknowledge its virtual plagiarism of Quick Change, a vastly underrated comedy directed by (and starring) Bill Murray.

The basic plot here is the same as in Murray's film. There's far less humor, though. Quick Change deserves remembering. It had great roles for Jason Robards, Tony Shaloub, Randy Quaid and Geena Davis. It was clever throughout (dragging a bit near the end, but still finishing well). It's worth watching.

Inside Man is worth watching if you've seen Dog Day Afternoon and Quick Change and enjoy the genre. Oh, see The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3 first, too. Same style, but with the great Robert Shaw and Walter Matthau.

This one is saved by Spike Lee's strong visual style, Denzel Washington's performance, and not much else.

(NPR's Scott Simon discusses Quick Change vs. Inside Man with the NY Times' Elvis Mitchell here.)

Grand Theft Blotto

So the company I work for just opened my office and an LA office in May. All the other offices are on the east coast (plus Chicago). We have a shipping company in D.C. that sends out materials to families we work with. But they're slow in general, likely to have been much slower getting things to the west coast. So M-N is the west coast shipping department. She spends a couple of hours a week putting together packages, printing postage labels, and putting them outside for the 'scheduled carrier pickup.'

It's been a great system. She can put packages together at night, put them on the doorstep, and the package guy comes at about 7 a.m. For some reason, packages sent this way go faster than if they brought to the post office. We even have a regular, very concerned package guy, Rene.

But today Rene did what he does when we schedule a pick-up and forget to put the packages outside: ring the doorbell, then call, frantically, worried about us and our packages. I'd put them out last night, but this morning at 7 they were gone. Rene and I were very upset.

Someone stole two priority mail envelopes off our doorstep. The thing is, there is never anything valuable in them. Just letters and little notebooks of study skills for students. Sometimes, there are vocabulary flash cards. Plus, stealing mail is a federal offense. If you're gonna steal mail, why not steal mail that might be valuable?

M-N was walking down the street later when she saw the packages on someone else's doorstep, opened, in a neat pile. So the mail-thief took them from us, walked a few houses down, opened them, realized they were worthless, and left them behind.

But now we can't leave packages outside for Rene b/c even though that idiot isn't likely to take our stuff again, other idiots might.

Torgo vs. Quizno

I have an expense account. That's something new to me. Part of my budget includes an allowance for meals. I never seem to use all of this up, but every once in a while I take myself out to lunch. I've slowly been exploring the neighborhood eateries. There are some good local places, including a Boudin Bakery (which I guess is a big, SF-based deal) that right next to my office. I still like Chipotle burritos better than the local taquerias near me -- happily, I read that McDonald's is divesting its partial interest in Chiptole, and they'll soon be self-owned.

Anyway, today I went to Quizno's. I'm not sure why. I was at an office supply store, saw it across the street, and was pulled in by the promise of pastrami. What strikes me as odd about Quizno's is that they have a condiment bar that only has three things: hot peppers, hot peppers, and pickles. I don't get that. I didn't get some hot peppers and pickles, and I was happy to be able to add them myself (though I was less enthused when thinking about who else had their grubby hands in the vats, just sitting out there, approaching a state of festering).

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a local Chinese buffet that charges by the pound. Here's a tip: don't eat at a buffet that charges by the pound. Also, they gave out free soup. I'd read something about that online when looking it up. I was smart enough to avoid the soup. Not smart enough to avoid the buffet.

Foot to the chest/Boring Survivor

It's been a strange week. Among other things, the boy learned that an effective method for expressing his disapproval at having his diaper changed on his changing table is to kick me in the chest. For a little guy, he's developed very strong legs. He also attempts to grab the dirty diaper and fling it to the carpet. Fortunately, his arms aren't quite as fast.

Also, last night, "Survivor" quickly fell into a "Lost"-Season-2-style slump. There were two interesting moments relating to the 'segregation' theme.

First, on the Asian team, the two Korean-Americans bonded and, although they didn't come out and say it, this pointed to the fact that just because they're all Asian, it doesn't mean they're all going to be friends. Despite the fact that all white people inherently connect with each other over our whiteness, over stocks and bonds, etc., some Asian cultures actually have conflicts with each other. Whoa, newsflash.

The other mildly noteworthy moment was when one of the women on the Hispanic team broke out the Spanish. I was wondering about that. M-N speculated that they had 'all-English' rules. But I guess they figured that since they have to subtitle all the whispers, they might as well subtitle some Spanish.

Yeah, even these 'interesting' moments weren't that interesting. There was better racial commentary in the "Fresh Prince" episode we watched after "Survivor."

Pics at last

So we first climbed a few steep blocks on Sunday. How steep? Let's just say that if we dropped something, we'd consider it lost. Paxton managed to fall asleep. That must've been nice. Notice in the pic how the road disappears after about 2 cars. We set up base camp after here, got used to the altitude, then continued to the summit.







We next climbed these stairs. That wasn't so bad, really. Stairs are better than slanted pavement. Less fun in a wheelchair, I'm sure, but easier on the legs. In fact, this is further than I got a few weeks ago with Paxton in the stroller. The only way to the top is via stairs. Although, I'm not sure if it's better to have him sleeping on my back over resting comfortably in the stroller.












Here's M-N knitting at the top. There's just a bench up there and some trees. When we got there, a dad was there with a baby girl resting comfortably on his front. When we left, a dad came up with two boys. M-N noted that moms don't tend to make this trek. Moms tend to be a bit less adventurous (or, perhaps, stupid). That's a generalization, but it was proven true on Sunday. Downtown SF is visible in the background, by the way. The line of trees on the left side of the pic is Golden Gate Park. Downtown right in front of where M-N's face is.




This pic is looking west towards the outer reaches of our neighborhood and the Pacific.















This is Paxton trying on his Halloween costume. Not the same day, but a great picture.

Spelling for simpletons

Pictures are coming. I uploaded to the web, just need to get it to the blog. I tried uploading this morning, but blogger was being fussy.

Elsewhere, I noticed this morning that the word "school" looks as though it's spelled incorrectly when I type it in all caps: SCHOOL. The 'c' and 'h' look misplaced.

Mild dyslexia? Maybe. Caps-lock-phobia? Probably.

A piece on NPR on Sunday talked about words that can't be translated in one word to other languages. English words include poppycock, serendipity, and Spam. Today's challenge is to use those three words somewhat coherently in a sentence (or, more challenging, a haiku -- think about it, serendipity has 5 syllables; if you're writing a syllabic haiku, that could be an entire line, but it's not a word that fits in a haiku. That's both difficult and pointless).

Here's a bad one:

Poppycock morning,
Spam and serendipity
all over my toast.

We walked the line

Yesterday, we began the day by scaling Grand View Park, the hilltop near our apt that's just 3 or 4 horizontal blocks of walking, but about 15,000 vertical feet. We took pictures which I'd share here but they're still on the camera. Oh well. Maybe later. The view was awesome. Unlike the last time I went, this time the boy was strapped to my back, so we could climb the stairs to the very top. Also, this time the weather was clear, so we could see all of the city, far out into the ocean, etc.

Then, I went out for a 'make the boy sleep' walk, which was unsuccessful but I explored heretofore unseen stretches of our neighborhood. That was cool.

Finally, we went out for a walk through Golden Gate Park, our usual ambling ground. There were festivals and concerts going on, as there seemingly always are, including an Arab-American Festival and some sort of techno party involving hula hoopers in the Shakespeare Garden. At one point, we realized we were close to a Safeway, so we walked out of the park, got some meat, came back by the farmer's market, got some corn on the cob, and had ourselves a barbecue.

M-N's been gardening in our 'backyard', and I managed to avoid setting any of her plants on fire. So far, she has lavendar, basil, and other things that are just seedlings.

Movie Review: Before Sunrise

Before Sunrise: Torgo approves

Rainster recommended this one, as I recall. I kept coming across the sequel, "Before Sunset," and then, Saturday, in the local bookmobile (our local library is being renovated), as it titlted awkwardly to starboard, I found both.

It's an unusual film about an American (Ethan Hawke) who meets a Frenchwoman (Julie Delpy) on a train near Vienna. They begin talking, make an instant connection, then decide to spend the night walking Vienna. She was on her way home to Paris; he's waiting for a flight back to the U.S. in the morning.

The film, then, is composed entirely of this couple becoming a couple (or sorts), talking and learning about each other. There is very little that happens besides the two talking to each other.

I saw another movie like this, with pretty much just two people talking. That was "My Dinner with Andre." It sucked. I fell asleep. Granted, I was tired, on a comfortable couch, and instead of Julie Delpy, it was Wallace Shawn.

I like several things about "Before Sunrise." First, what Rainster liked, Hawke quotes an Auden poem. There's another poetry moment in the film. A man offers to compose a poem for the couple in exchange for money. One movie, two poems: not bad.

I also like how the film captures these two falling in love. The initial flirting, then the development of a relationship over just a few hours, all feels quite real, despite the contrivances of the plot.

Ethan Hawke gets on my nerves a bit. But just when his pretentiousness becomes grating, he says something clever and funny, like his comment on people growing bored with their own stories and, essentially, themselves. Or, Delpy acknowledges his condescensions, playing against the stereotypical, submissive role.

One odd note: Early in the film, Hawke tells a story about his grandmother dying. Or his great-grandmother. In a weird flub, he says 'great-grandmother' and then 'grandmother' in almost the same sentence, talking about the same person. In such a thoughtful film, this mistake was jarring.

Read this

If you watched the first episode of "Survivor: Go to the back of the bus," you need to read this, a great article by a group of Asian Americans (including one former contestant) doing play-by-play on the show.

Survivor: Come Sail Away

I watched "Survivor" last night (though I missed the first 10 minutes) for the first time in about 5 or 6 years. Eh. It's a silly show.

I liked that the Asian team pointed out the diversity of cultures represented among those five people. "Asian" encompasses a lot of territory (as do the other groups, but the 5 people in the Asian team represent a huge chunk of the planet, even without anyone east of Vietnam).

I also liked that the first crime to be committed was by the old white guy stealing a chicken. That seemed appropriate.

I didn't really see the Hispanic team. With four teams of five people each, there was a lot of ground to cover in a short time frame, especially when you through in Jeff Probst and all his rules and gimmicks.

The worst part of the whole show was that afterwards, we flipped over to "Celebrity Duets" and watched an hour of possibly the worst television I've ever seen. I got the Styx song "Come Sail Away" stuck in my head. I learned that Cheech Marin, though a solid art collector, is not much of a vocalist. I was reassured that Wayne Brady is one of the worst hosts imaginable in a wide sea of terrible reality shows. Marie Osmond has self-esteem issues. Little Richard talks like Yoda with less wisdom. Every Simon Cowell-produced show needs a jerk-judge. Dionne Warwick needs work. So does Aaron Neville. Taylor Dayne is still alive. Xena isn't that bad of a singer, though as a blonde and without all her Xena gear, I would never have figured out who she was on my own. And lastly, I could have spent that hour staring blankly at the wall and made better use of my time.

Survivor: Go Whites!

Survivor: Segregation Island debuts tonight. I can't wait. I know it's just a marketing move, but I really think that what this country needs is a prime-time reality show to raise serious issues. "Dancing with the Stars" isn't going to do it. "Fear Factor" did raise the serious issue of large bugs going uneaten in our time, but that's not enough.

With this Survivor, who do I root for? What if the indigenous people of the Cook Islands (where the show is filmed) just booted everyone off their land? After all, they weren't always called the "Cook" Islands, not before Captain Cook (go White team!) "discovered" them.

That would be a shocker.

Optical Illusions are Neat

One part of my job involves researching local schools. High school math teachers (more often than others, I find) have fun links, like this.

Read the description at the top. It's great.

Torgo vs. Ken Jennings

Oh, it's a battle of wits. I signed up for the Tuesday Trivia of Ken Jennings. It sounds mischievous, doesn't it? The guy who won big on Jeopardy now sends out a weekly trivia quiz, keeping tabs of who answers the most questions correctly on his website. He just started a new round this week, so I decided to try responding. Actually, I've been getting the quizzes for a month or so, figured I couldn't catch up to the leaders midway through a round, and also didn't have a clue about most of the answers. Then, this week, I immediately knew one, and then another, and then the final question, which is always designed to be difficult to Google, seemed simple as well.


So with a little help from said search engine, I polished off all the answers and sent it in. Here are the questions:

THIS WEEK'S QUIZ

1. What famous quartet was originally named Oikake ("Chaser"), Machibuse
("Ambusher"), Kimagure ("Fickle"), and Otoboke ("Stupid")?

2. What does an anemometer measure?

3. In a 1952 novel, the repeated initials of Cyrus and Alice Trask, Cathy and Adam
Trask, and Cal and Aron Trask are a reference to what?

4. What U.S. state is currently represented by two senators who share exactly the
same first name?

5. What fictional airline suffered a hijacking in the 1996 Kurt Russell film
Executive Decision, almost a decade before making its television debut?

6. The United States has more stars on its flag than any other country, with 50.
What nation is in second place, with 27?

7. Finally, a Question Seven for music fans. What do these albums have in common?
Introducing the Beau Brummels, the Beau Brummels. Chopper City in the Ghetto, BG.
Diamond Dogs, David Bowie. If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears, the Mamas and the
Papas. Party, Iggy Pop. Spellbound, Paula Abdul. This Year's Model, Elvis
Costello.

E-Pirate

Susan Sontag quotes:

"Nothing prevents me from being a writer except laziness."

"The writer is in love with himself...and makes his books out of that meeting and that violence."

"Art= a way of getting in touch with one's own insanity."

(poached from Ethelbert's blog)

Safety first, cool second

This story made me mad, first at motorists because they usually treat cyclists like they don't belong on the road, then at cyclists who don't wear helmets.

I used to avoid wearing a bike helmet, even though I'd gotten badly hurt in a bike accident as a kid. But one day I realized (or M-N convinced me, it's fuzzy) that it's stupid to ride without a helmet. Ask Ben Roethlisberger, or don't because he's not all there.

All this brings me to the boy. We were shopping on Saturday, not intending in any way to do this, when we ended up buy a safety harness like the one pictured here. There are clever new harnesses (see the debate here), but the store we were at didn't have those, so we got the one that looks like a leash (because it is).

Why? Well, see, the thing is, we live in a city. We spend a lot of time on sidewalks, next to busy street, with stupid people. People like those who would hit a biker when he's down then drive off. Those people are everywhere. And we've been carting to boy around in the stroller, but he can walk well now, so we want to give him some freedom. But a wise Quaker once told us that some babies learn to walk early, before they have judgment, while others walk late, but develop awareness of safe and imminent crushing death to some degree. Ours is the former.

He's been on his feet since about the second trimester. So if this harness allows him to practice his walking with jumping in front of a streetcar, then I'm cool with it. I practiced with it in front of our apartment yesterday while M-N knitted on the step. I decided it looked silly took it off, and he immediately fell down a manhole.

Ok, no, but he walked up the street and would have stepped right into traffic if I hadn't picked him up. So I pointed him down the street, and he chased a piece of paper and would've gone diving under a parked car if I hadn't swooped him up. So we tried out the leash again, and there was no more almost dying. So it'll get him out of stroller on some walks, which is good. It's not cool, but hey, Ben Roethlisberger isn't cool. He broke his head.

We are Zipsters/Meeting food remembered

Yesterday, I finally sold our car. Craigslist came through again, though this time it took some effort.

But fear not! We are not carless, we are Zipsters. I don't think Zipcar has young children in mind, though, and the tedium of taking the car seat in and out may discourage us from hopping in a convertible Mini-Cooper to day-trip to Napa, but we'll give it a shot.

Normally, I guess, they mail you your Zipcard, which is how you get into the cars. But as I was registering, I realized their SF office is 2 blocks from my office, so I walked over. They were having some sort of Monday morning meeting, which reminded me of what it was like when I was part of a 'team' that all worked in the same 'office' in the same 'time zone.'

At BN, we used to have Monday morning meetings, which I liked b/c it was a chance to be working but sitting, something quite rare in retail management. Also, there were often pastries. At CoPIRG, we had Friday morning meetings at this awesome place called the Eggshell next to our office. They had a fantastic breakfast special. I lived an excessively frugal life in Denver, so this was my big treat. I don't remember much about the actual meetings. At that school in Maine, we had Thursday afternoon faculty meetings. Those always preceded "family-style" dinner night, which in no way resembled these boarding school kids' actual family dinners. Basically, they had to wear nice clothes (jackets and ties for the boys) and eat with a pre-set group of people, making awkward conversation with the one or two faculty members at each table. Before the meetings, all the faculty would sneak into the cafeteria (adjacent to the meeting space) and grab coffee and handfuls of whatever was left from lunch, often cookies.

Now I work alone in an office, a seven-hour drive from my 'state-mate,' the only other office west of Chicago, and over 3000 miles from my higher-ups. It seems weird to buy myself lunch and think business. And it's rude to have a breakfast meeting on a conference call. I need to figure something out.

Movie Review: Walk the Line

Walk the Line: Torgo disapproves

This movie is basically the Confederate version of "Ray." Like any "Behind the Music" episode, it tracks the star's beginnings in obscurity, miraculous rise to success, fall from grace into drug dependency, then heroic reemergence.

This may be exactly what happened to Johnny Cash. That doesn't mean it's great material for a movie. Maybe if "Ray" hadn't come out so recently, and if Ray Charles hadn't led such a similar life, right down to the guilt over his brother's childhood death, then maybe I'd be more inclined to like "Walk the Line."

I enjoy some of Johnny Cash's music. I like the whole "man in black" image. I also think Reese Witherspoon is great in almost anything she does (particularly "Election"). She's great here, too.

And, truth be told, I can't stand Joaqui'ei'an Phoenix. I can't even spell his name. I don't think he's a great actor. He's all brooding and angry stares. He seems shallow to me, incapable of presenting an entirely developed character.

Plus there's this: normally, the 'deleted scenes' on a dvd are pointless. When we watch them, we usually understand quickly why the scenes were deleted. But here, there are several scenes, including entire sequences of scenes, that could have developed the characters and story more fully. Several scenes, for example, develop Cash's relationship with his first wife as well as adding complexity to their marriage and his role as father.

There are also a couple of deleted scenes that would have further explained Cash's drug dependence, highlighting his trauma over his brother's death. I think these scenes would have felt too similar to "Ray," and perhaps that's why they were cut. But as it is, the movie never justifies why Cash became such a pill popper. One day, he just starts taking them.

To differentiate the story from "Ray," I think the filmmakers tried to focus on the love story between Cash and June Carter. This also might have been the result of casting Reese Witherspoon who, as I mentioned, is terrific. In fact, I think I might have preferred to watch her story, how the Carter family rose to success, then June had her misadventures as a divorcee looking to play to a religious, conservative audience. Oh well.

Movie Review: Love Jones

Love Jones: Torgo approves

I'd seen this movie before. It's M-N's favorite. But we watched it again last weekend and it's still great. The cast is strong. The soundtrack is terrific. Plus, it's a movie that portrays the black middle class of Chicago, something rarely seen on film. Even better, Larenz Tate is a writer, and the poem opens at a poetry reading.

This is a well-conceived, intelligent romance -- the plot deviates from the romance formula in unexpected ways. Nia Long and Larenz Tate have a difficult time getting and staying together, but unlike "The Break-Up," where the difficult times were awkward to watch, in "Love Jones," everything's working.

Movie Review: 50 First Dates (and the new Torgo rating!)

I'm introducing a new feature here in Torgoland. At the beginning of each book or movie review, I'll give the book or movie a classification. This will save everyone some time. Instead of reading my review, you can just see if it's "Torgo approves" or "Torgo disapproves." Personally, I like reading negative reviews. I get a sick thrill out of them. So if it's "Torgo disapproves" and you're like me, keep reading. Otherwise, for those you just looking to follow in the footsteps of all that I deem worthy, just seek out those that "Torgo approves." Ok? Here we go.

50 First Dates: Torgo approves

Adam Sandler movies are a strange bunch. A few (Wedding Singer, Happy Gilmore) are far better than they seemingly have any right to be. 50 First Dates is almost among his best. It's strangely sad, though, as Drew Barrymore's character has an entirely fictional short-term memory problem where she wakes up each morning with a clean slate. Fortunately, Sandler provides her with a memento to bring her up to speed. So she's not exactly a groundhog, day by day never knowing her fate.

The sadness of her condition weighs down some of the comedy. Also, Sandler is entirely out of his element trying to play a womanizer in the first part of the movie. He's about as far from the Sam Malone type as they get.

Still, there are plenty of very funny bits. Sean Astin is good, having ditched his hobbitness. And Dan Aykroyd has a small role, thus linking the movie to Ghostbusters (which he wrote and starred in). Which is important, because his fellow Ghostbuster Harold Ramis wrote and directed Groundhog Day, which of course starred Bill Murray, another Ghostbuster. (Where's Ernie Hudson? I don't know.)

The simplest flaw in 50 First Dates is that it tries to justify Barrymore's condition. Groundhog Day never explained why Bill Murray kept waking up and living the same day over and over again. That was a smart move.

But ultimately this is an Adam Sandler movie. And because I naturally expect so little in the way of meaningful content, 50 First Dates ends up being a pretty good movie. It's funny often enough to make it worthwhile and, as a heretofore unmentioned perk, actually tender in a wholly unexpected way.