Book # 19-21: The Hunger Games trilogy

The Hunger Games series, by Suzanne Collins

Always a sucker for YA literature, I had been told that the Hunger Games series was a legitimately interesting novel for all ages, and was excited to borrow a copy from my cousin for a recent trip. After plowing through the first book (outstanding, by the way; more on that in a moment), I devoured the second of the series before taking a break (while continuing two other books and starting a third....dangerous addiction, this 'reading' fad). Over the holiday weekend, I flew through Mockingjay, the third and final installment of the series.

I've had a number of conversations already about the surprising depth of the series. It is, quite wonderfully, a combination of The Most Dangerous Game (favorite short story), Gladiator (among favorite movies), and 1984 (the book- a favorite- not the album (also a favorite)). As a teacher-to-be, it's a book I'd love to teach; there's a lot to consider from a number of perspectives. After finishing the first book of the series, I sent a series of points to a good friend of mine with plenty of YA lit. exposure. Here are some of those points:

1) The level of emotion in this book is pretty astounding, particularly for YA lit. It's got REAL depth, without the pretension of an exhaustive vocabulary. I love the feeling of a page-turner out of excitement, rather than for the sake of finishing a book, if that makes sense...and this did it. Big time. 2) I didn't want to do a search for where in today's North America the Districts were supposed to represent, but I gave it a LOT of thought. I will assume this is the geography nerd in me. Feel free to not hop on that discussion track. 3) I don't like Gale, which is to say I don't like Edward Cullen, which is to REALLY say that the over-representation of the ideal male as a brooding, tight-lipped mystery is a tired idea, and a bit of a farce. I feel like there is a disproportionate number of males who're that tough to crack in real-life. The silver lining here is we learn too little to really cast Gale in the same light as, say, Mr. Darcy; he's not condescending (which is supposed to turn into something endearing by book's end...I never understood that), so good for him. Still, if this is how I am to perceive the female psyche, I give up. 4) Brilliantly-disguised love story within a suspenseful dramatic setting. Katniss's awkwardness cuts through a lot of the would-be mush, which is a good thing. I would venture to say that that's what kills a series like Twilight for men (boys? Should I even be sending this as a 27 year-old?): too much mush. From all three lead perspectives. Woof. 5) The clever loophole of "it's the future. Believe everything." is SO well-implemented here, I had next to no trouble believing that any of what Collins writes could actually happen. Can we discuss- in particular- the premise of entertainment as a mask for something bigger and exponentially more sinister? I would hope, as an English teacher, to get the chance to teach 1984 and Brave New World...and this is a breeze of a read compared to both AND deals with a mixture of themes of the two. I'm really liking the story and the idea that people just don't "get it"...reminds me a lot about reality tv and the danger in getting wrapped up in something so artificial and contrived. Bloodsport for entertainment, manufactured conditions for battle, and a fight to the death (among TEENS, no less) makes for quite an alarming scenario...except everybody LOVES it. It is (thanks to the single-channel TV setup) THE big story. I'd be interested to learn how exactly the government managed to strip away luxuries.


I then followed it up with a few more points after reading the other two books in the series (note: None will give away the ending entirely)...


1) Catching Fire was interesting in how it shifted from a story about the uprising to the Quarter Quell. I felt as though the victory tour had a lot more potential than what it was given, and that the Quell seemed to be a bit of a cop-out. I understand that it was necessary to develop certain characters and whatnot, but Beetee and Finnick's roles in particular could have been just as well-developed in the setting of the tour of the districts. 2) I'm really legitimately upset that Regis Philbin is not playing the role of Caesar Flickerman. Perhaps it's just that I see the interviews playing out like an episode of Who Want to Be a Millionaire? whenever I think about it, but I felt it was totally manageable. In fact, that's the first character I felt able to place with an actor in the entire series. 3) There's a weight to these books that makes me really sad. It's reaching to describe the uprising as a possibility within the confines of the plot of the series, let alone to put a teenager in the role of the face of the revolt. I suppose it's what makes Katniss a tragic figure; it just made me tired. 4) Mockingjay petered out towards the end, in my opinion. It seemed as though the buildup IN 13 far outweighed the amount of time spent in the Capitol. I felt-most of all- that there wasn't nearly enough playing up of the realization that Coin was playing the same game as Snow. It was as though the author wanted to surprise everyone with the assassination (which wasn't the case at all for me)....which is unfortunate because it is PRECISELY that hatred and bitterness that had been allowed to simmer throughout the first two and a half books. Frustrating..

I'm game for any sort of discussion about the series, so if you've read it, let me know!

Verdict: Highly recommended!

Book #18: Walk On: The Spiritual Journey of U2

I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid including a U2 book on this list, as I've got a shelf's worth of U2-related literature in my room. This selection was more out of curiosity than anything. As an unauthorized quasi-autobiography of the band, I should have taken caution before reading. However, I figured I'd give it a shot; I have no regrets.

Author Steve Stockman takes a look at the progression of the band from early days until circa 2001 (pre-9/11, which is important for a couple of reasons which I will explain shortly), and more specifically, their blatant lack of representation from any particular denomination. Early on, U2 were involved in a religious group; indeed, their second album, "October", is packed with quite religious sentiment (which doesn't even include "40", based on Psalm 40 in the Bible, or really any number of other spiritual references). While Stockman doesn't have any access to the band, his work is filled with quotes from magazine exposes and articles, as well as thoughtful analysis of U2's catalog of lyrics.

The spirituality of course isn't without some sort of controversy, namely the contention that rock stars would dare to make bold, religious statements. It is unfortunate that organized religions have 1) worked to claim U2 as their own, 2) disowned them after being spurned, and 3) ignored the questions that the band has asked in their work. The questions of spirituality and existentialism are found all over the band's collective work, and I feel as though it is these questions which endear U2 to many fans, myself included.

The band has claimed in the past that faith is not the same as religion, a sentiment that can make the idea of God much more accessible and pragmatic; adhering to His word is much more basic than following the rules of religion, which are often self-serving. In fact, the pushback from religions wanting to have an up-and-coming (and later, a well-established) musical act serving as mouthpieces for their intended work. However, the band's progression taught them to speak for themselves only, rather than represent something they may not entirely agree with.

Even so, the questioning and establishment of a relationship with God enables U2 to connect with people who have those same questions, without alienating those who do not. There's a similarity between love and faith, and so songs like "With or Without You" can be perceived as both a love song and a song representing a crisis of faith. It is in that flexibility that the broad appeal of the band gets its legs; a song that means something to one person can have drastically different significance to someone else.

The use of 2000's "All That You Can't Leave Behind" is minimal, as the book was sent to review and publication shortly thereafter. However, as the events of 9-11 unfolded, the search for answers to heavy questions (most notably, "Why?") and understanding really lent itself to the tracks found within the album. As a group whose heart had been worn on its collective sleeve for years, U2's ability to identify indirectly with those in mourning was brought into the light. If able, try to imagine "Walk On" in a pre- versus post-9/11 context. Ultimately, it's the latter that tugs at you more. The words- and the song by association- means more. Even "New York" takes on a personality that is proud of its identity and united in its assertion that it is a great place, indeed. And when in a position to question or curse someone, hasn't anger been directed above? It is in this vein that U2 takes on deeper meaning, and has all along.

I enjoyed the book quite a bit. While it didn't give much to me in terms of new information about the band or its prior work, it did connect the religious/spiritual implications and connections, as well as shed some light on the issues that the band has had with institutions of faith. As is the case with most matters of religion- to my mind at least- taking full credit for something on behalf of a higher institution or power an be prickly; I'd rather let each user/reader/listener use their own discretion, and let it take on whatever meaning they see fit. After all, personal relationships are more rewarding when they are personal, rather than uniform.

Book #17: The Great Gatsby

F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby"

Fitzgerald's classic 1925 novel brings back memories of high school English classes, for better and worse. Really, the only downside to reading such a book in class was the focus on what became maybe the most lingering example of symbolism I can remember: the watchful eyes on the side of the garage of George Wilson. It is ultimately these sorts of inane details that bored me in an English classroom that was almost never actually boring. Far more interesting, in my mind, was the explanation of the wistfulness that enhances- and at the same time curses- the human condition. Before I pontificate, the quick synopsis of another book I read on the Asia trip...

Nick Carraway, the story's narrator, moves to Long Island in an attempt to make it in the bond market of New York. His cousin- Daisy Buchanan- helps to incorporate him into the local social scene, though it is ultimately a rager at his neighbor's mansion that draws his attention. His mysterious neighbor (Gatsby) spends time throwing these lavish parties despite not taking part in them. As we come to learn, this is done as a means of conveying to Daisy that he is a successful, rich man who is capable of taking care of her. Meanwhile, Tom's affair with Myrtle Wilson appears to be common knowledge, though nothing is really done about it, since security goes a long way in the matter of substituting for happiness. As things come into the open, the true sorrow of the book is exposed. If for whatever reason you haven't read The Great Gatsby, stop reading this and pick it up. A spoiler alert is coming, and I wouldn't want to ruin this great piece of work for anyone.


Alright? Good. Now, the tragedy of Gatsby is that.......................................

SPOILER ALERT





..........................he is left as defeated as any man has ever been before he meets his demise. Gatsby- like anyone who has ever felt the feeling- is driven by love, and in the course of that pursuit, of course he engages in less-than-reputable things (bootlegging, in this case, and associating with disreputable characters). The saddest- and most identifiable- part of all of this is that, for those of us who have ever been there, been on the short end of unrequited love, the rest of what you do can seem hollow. The notion that Gatsby would not take part in the downright epic revelry that becomes associated with his parties seems mystifying, but is explained soon enough over the course of the story.

See, Gatsby's love for Daisy Buchanan had started long before her current marriage to her husband, Tom. Over the course of a war and time apart, however, things change. The pursuit to rebuild something that has faded (rather than been broken. Big difference...) is ultimately fruitless, as the comfort of the known and the security that it provides causes Daisy to ultimately stay with Tom. It is THIS concept- not symbolism- that is the most striking aspect of what is ultimately a very enjoyable read, worthy of study and mandated reading, if with just a twist.

Book #16: On the Road

Jack Kerouac's "On the Road"

In the final days of my time in Chile, I was granted access to the bookshelf of a good friend, Aashish, whose own stint in South America was winding down. He gave me Jack Kerouac's "On the Road", which I had been eager to read, as both a travel enthusiast and as a young man whose life bears little semblance to a certain direction. Over the course of time, the book became lost (and found again), and so it wasn't until my trip to Asia in the spring that I took the time to get through it. I must say I was disappointed. Now whether this is a result of not caring for the book or recognizing the haphazard nature in my own life within the pages of the story is unclear. In any event, I felt as though neither Sal Paradise nor Dean Moriarty were very much likable (in fact, Dean comes off in my mind as barely tolerable).

"On the Road" focuses on Sal's trips across the post-WWII United States. A large amount of "stuff" happens within the larger search for whatever life has to offer. It is in THIS regard that the book hit close to home. I like to think, however, that my life has a little more aim than the group of reckless people in the story. In any event, the story comes in a series of parts, each of which starts with Sal Paradise (the main character, based on Kerouac himself) and his restlessness with where his life has taken him. He's as uncertain as the day is long, but longs for something else; certainly this is the height of personalization. And so starts the disembarkation across the great American terrain. This is before Eisenhower's Interstate System, mind you, and so the landscape carries much more flavor and personality than the endless fields and landscapes.

The more I think about it, the more I feel as though my own "itch" to explore the unexplored on a whim SHOULD have me enjoying this story more. And yet, I don't. It all seems very haphazard and ultimately, the ending made me even angrier, as it just ends. Hear me out: the ending is sort of a wistful look back at all that's gone on and seems to end on a shaking head, like, "I can't believe all of the shit we got up to." The problem is Sal never explains what he's done since. The idea of doing all that they got up to and having nothing to show for it infuriated me. I love to travel. I've done extensive time abroad, and have something to show for it....or will.... or propose to. I plan on teaching for my career. Whether I do that here or abroad, it is the driving force behind the majority of my travels. I want to be well-versed, informed, connected to something bigger. THAT is what bothers me about the characters in this book, and ultimately, the book itself. It's not that they lack direction. It's that they don't profess to want a direction. Had Kerouac simply said "I did it because it was there", it wouldn't be as bad because, really, some things have to happen for that reason. But there's none of that. It's as though he splattered out everything he wanted to say and said "okay, you make sense of this." Shirker.

In any event, there are some gems of quotes in the story, and there are endearing moments that hit quite close to home, as I had previously stated. Overall, however, "On the Road" left me a little cold. Oh well. I suppose sometimes you do (and read) things just because they're there, and just to say you did/read them.

Book #15: Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut's "Cat's Cradle"

On the trip to Asia, travel was fast and furious. Hours of waiting in airports and on planes themselves meant there had to be something to do other than sleep. I had tucked 6 or 7 paperbacks into my backpack, in addition to the kindle lent to me by my cousin Kristine. By the last couple of days of the tour, however, I had plowed through all of them, and so I borrowed one of my buddy Dan's books. Dan is a relentless reader whose bookshelf I not-so-secretly envy. In any case, he gave me "Cat's Cradle", assuring me that it was a quick- albeit strange- read.

It was my first venture into the literature of Vonnegut, and while I was entertained and certainly amused by his writing, I can't say I was altogether very stricken by any feeling that Vonnegut had cracked the code with regards to any otherworldly insight. The story- following the narrator's journey to follow a lead to aid him in writing a book. He goes to a fictional island in the Caribbean, and encounters a variety of slightly-off characters as his life is taken by strange storm, all in pursuit of a lead.

Vonnegut deserves credit for incorporating so many big ideas into this tale of twists and turns (like, of course, a game of cat's cradle). Whether it's religion (Bokononism, a cynic's response to Shintoism) and the denouncement of other religions throughout history; science (ice-nine plays a prominent role in the climactic action of the story) and its ability to spiral beyond control of those who experiment with the "unnatural"; or politics (the dictatorship of the fictional San Lorenzo eventually is bestowed upon John, the narrator) and its fickle nature, particularly given the often-shaky premise upon which a political structure is built. Through an absurd lens, the author makes his mark in a sardonic sort of way with regards to weighty issues. It is Vonnegut's strong writing (it really is an effortless read, if strange) that gives this story its wings.

I am very much interested in reading more from the man, as he came and continues to come highly recommended. All in all, Cat's Cradle ranks somewhere in the middle of the pack among books I've read for this list so far.

Ballpark #1- Nationals Park May 8, 2010

Exactly one month before Stephen Strasburg made his debut for the Washington Nationals, I had the pleasure of catching a game at Nationals Park in Washington, DC. A bunch of friends and I descended on our nation's capital for a weekend of fun and games. We all managed to cramp ourselves in the apartment of a good friend who was living in DC for work purposes. In the meantime, he was living a mere 2-3 blocks away from the stadium, so a ballgame seemed like a no-brainer.

Washington's ballpark was a real treat for fans. As the franchise is still relatively new to the DC area, the ballpark is clean, new, and well-maintained. Green grass, bright and shining seats, uncluttered walkways...while some of this can be attributed to it being early May, the overall feel is that it is a fun place to be. Picture time!



Nationals Park. Benefits include: Proximity to public transportation, pick of good seats.


Towards the end of the season, the mascot may become more intimidating than the team. Not a good sign.

Sampling the fare at the ballpark...

Chili cheese dog. Verdict: Delicious! Not even 'delicious for ballpark food'. It was legitimately tasty.

Views from the stadium include: The Capitol! A very unique experience at MLB parks, from my experience.


Maybe it's just that it was a day game, or that it's the Nationals, but I thought it was a really tranquil place to catch a game...


Lounge area for when the Nats aren't worth the $24 bleacher seat ticket...


Easily navigable concourses. Well-lit and not overcrowded. Two big pluses.


View from the outfield concourse. Nothing like a well-manicured field..
Photographic evidence that I made it to Washington.


From the upper deck. Classy.


The good:
Thanks to a smaller crowd than I'm used to, the stadium felt very friendly. I managed to get around without any crowd issues, which meant I had plenty of time to take it all in (like a picture of the Capitol).
The hot dog was good, and the beer was cold. It can be a real crap-shoot when you go to the park to get food, but Washington delivered.
No line at the bathroom!
Friendly staff. People are vastly friendlier outside of New York, and so it was nice to get to experience that at a ballgame.
Scoreboard: having multiple places to look to find the score, lineups, etc. is an underrated part of the game. Understandably, it comes from the advances in technology (this would be a lone drawback at Fenway or Wrigley).
Atmosphere: Laid back. Nice for a relaxing afternoon watching a game.
Public transportation options. A stop only a block or so away from the ballpark. Tough to beat that.

The bad:
The frenzy of sport was lacking until late innings.
It didn't look like there would be great lighting at night games outside the stadium. While I went on a gorgeous day, I would imagine that the walk back to a car parked up the street a few blocks might be a little more ominous.

Perks: Got to see Josh Johnson pitch, and Tyler Clippard, too. Also, got to cheer for Josh Willingham and his game-winning homer skills. Big day for team Parmesan.

Ocean #2: Indian

During the Asia trip (more on that to come), we managed to hit some islands and get our swim on. While the Andaman Sea is the technical name for the body of water we swam in, it is an extension- as a border of Thailand- of the Indian Ocean. So there. Island hopping around Thailand featured exotic and beautiful views not afforded to us in America, and so it was a real treat to be able to admire the crystalline waters and take a dip. Truly relaxing. Truly a wonderful journey. Enjoy!

Celebratory splashing for hitting another ocean!

We managed to find some luxurious shopping on the beach...boi.

Ko Phi Phi: The new paradise.

Getting our toes wet, and walking wayyy out...

Ocean #1: Atlantic Ocean

Last summer featured three instances where I was able to swim in the Atlantic: trips to Miami, the Jersey Shore and the Hamptons, NY. Both featured my best friends, and both were wild times. By day we enjoyed some quality beach time (complete with sweet burns), which was a nice transition, as I am not typically a beach person (see aforementioned burns). In any event, here is some photographic evidence of my being at the beach (Note: I swear I went into the water, though only one shot will get me on my way out)...

Jersey Shore...managed to survive the trip, though it certainly wasn't easy...
One of these things does not tan...


Apparently, a LOT of people got the memo about coming to the beach. And we're allll cramped together on the narrow strip of dry sand. The Hamptons, 2010.

Fresh off a nice session of waves and waboba throwing...

Yes, I'm obliged to say "South Beach, bringin' the heat". No, I don't feel bad about it.

Book #14- Lardner on Baseball

Ring Lardner, using what used to be known as a "typewriter"...

One of the many things I love about baseball is its rich history in the American narrative. From the origins of the game all the way to present day, baseball more than any other sport has become interwoven with American history. Between countless movies, documentaries, television specials, online articles, lists, etc. it is the most accessible sport we have. Tennis and golf are individual sports. Football has taken the "most popular" title from baseball, but has also taken with it the negative frenzy and over-exposure that baseball benefited from (and was also hindered by). Hockey sadly lacks the mainstream access and coverage in America, and basketball is coming on strong, but is still seen as an individual-driven sport (which is a different debate for a different day). Baseball is blessed to have teams who are institutions of their own (Boston, New York Yankees, Dodgers, Cubs, et. al.), so the talk about stars being bigger than the teams themselves is rendered false (when Jeter retires, the Yankees will still be a hugely profitable and popular team. The Cleveland Cavaliers are finding out how life without LeBron James can be, driving your franchise upwards).

Historically, the period before Babe Ruth was known as the 'dead ball' era, based on the fact that there were few true stars in the developmental days of MLB. Perhaps the most famous of the writers who covered this era was Ring Lardner. This collection of stories from Lardner- a collection of satirical chapters about Jack Keefe, a fictional, beleaguered pitcher; a series of short stories about life of ballplayers off the field; and non-fiction posts throughout the 1919 World Series (known today as the Black Sox scandal)- present ballplayers in a more human, less otherworldly light. It's a great read, as though Lardner knew of the disappointing fall from grace so many professional athletes have had in the eyes of America over the last 90 years. What results is a portrayal of professional baseball players as strangely- and sadly- human characters.

The 1910 NY Giants starting lineup. The Giants were the faceless villain of Lardner's characters. NY still has it.

Jack Keefe, for example, is a character featured in a number of short stories collectively called "You Know Me, Al", which is a compilation of letters from Keefe to a hometown friend. Keefe overestimates his skill without realizing what everyone else clearly sees: that he is, as a player, overrated. There's an idea that the most elite people at their profession don't see shortcomings. Call it blind optimism. Athletes on the decline are rarely aware enough to admit that they are declining (see Derek Jeter's 2010 contract negotiations). Whether it's a stubborn refusal or the fact that they have competed at the highest level of competition within their field, it is interesting to read this well-written piece of fiction about a player who suffers from this exact thing...which is still relevant today.

Another talent of Lardner's is combining just the right combination of in-game information (even fictitious games) and 'other'. While many people spend time thinking about how famous people in any industry live, Lardner presents life on the road (from experience) as dull and full of immaturity (big boys playing boys games),sometimes downright ugly. We collectively marvel at what life must be like as someone famous, to which Lardner glibly replies "it's interesting, but nothing great". I argue that Lardner's writing is interesting AND great.

Detracting from this book is simply the language. Lardner writes exactly how you might expect a sportswriter from the 1910s to write: gruff, full of unfamiliar lingo, and fairly basic. Not that these are all bad things, but they DO make for a slow read on occasion. Also, I couldn't read through more than one of the short stories at a time, since it would require introduction to an entire series of characters one after another. Unlike a novel where you become acquainted with a set number of people per book, Lardner's short stories- while entertaining- are diverse enough that I could only handle it one story at a time (and I'm a reader whose appetite for books can be described as voracious). All in all, Lardner on Baseball is a humorous and unpretentious look inside the lives of ballplayers. In the event that Lardner takes creative liberties to add brushstrokes of depth to his characters, it i done so with a wink and a nod to what can only be a captive audience of sports enthusiasts.
Life of ballplayers isn't always pretty...right, Randy?

Book #13- Derek Jeter: The Life You Imagine

The Life You Imagine: Life Lessons for Achieving Your Dreams

As baseball season is in full effect, I thought I'd introduce a few baseball-related books for the review. The first of three is one co-written by Derek Jeter, famed shortstop for the New York Yankees. When I first saw the title of the book, I thought, "wow, what a self-important title"; as I read, I realized that it was a little bit different than a holier-than-thou manifest about how great Jeter's life is.

The book is structured as a motivational how-to for setting goals and reaching them. It is devoid of scandalous or sensationalized stories, which does not surprise me; Jeter takes great care to keep his personal life in an air-tight bubble. The book also lacks a ton of information about his playing days to that point (released in 2000, the 2001 World Series, the 03-04 epic Red Sox showdowns, the Torre firing, and 2010 contract negotiations are nowhere to be found here, though I'm sure they turn up in his new biography, The Captain). If we don't have access to adult personal life information and we lack access to playing with the Yankees, what does that leave us with? The answer, briefly put, is that this book comes across as a motivational speech. Jeter- along with Jack Curry- outline 10 tips for "living the life you imagine". Huh?

Before I took into account that this book was published 11 years ago and that Jeter was that much younger and that much more flawless (sabermetrics were born in the 20th century, but matured in the 21st), I thought that it would be a lame sort of 'go get em' book for young people. That remains part true. Bits of advice like "The world is not always fair" doesn't sound as meaningful when dictated by a millionaire shortstop for the world's most recognizable sports franchise.
Post-season heroics are not discussed. Too bad. 2001 WS thoughts would have been interesting...

Of course, things that get glossed over as know-it-all adults can still be put to good use if we as adults take the time to look a little closer (the closing chapter, "Life is a Daily Challenge", should be plastered on walls and billboards the world over). It is here that Jeter's stories have some legs to walk around on. We the general public tend to think of our athletes and entertainers as unflappable. As any Yankee would tell you, there's a whole lot of history behind those pinstripes. So as a teenager, to put that uniform on- to do any adult thing, really- can be frazzling if you're unprepared. Luckily for Jeter, his talent carries him through. For the world in general, there's a lot to fight for, and you've got to be prepared to fight it out daily. This is a valid point for any reader of any age.

While I wouldn't recommend the book to anyone who isn't looking for advice, it was certainly interesting to put things into perspective. Everyone could use some advice, and nothing- no matter how glossy the surface- is perfect.

Furthermore, Jeter does do a tremendous job of highlighting those things which have been widely-reported as important to him: Family. There's a lot of attention paid to the success and ability of individuals, Jeter included. To his credit, he has always gone out of his way to mention his parents and sister for their influence on him throughout his entire life. Kids today can learn a LOT of valuable information from the way Jeter conducts himself and who he keeps closest to him.

Lastly, I've always been interested in how Jeter handles the race card. Born to a bi-racial couple, Derek Jeter has always taken the high road whenever race has come up in any sort of fashion. This book didn't dig deep into it, but it WAS referenced, and the general consensus is that it's unfortunate that some people feel the way they do. While that may be a vanilla response we've come to expect from modern-day athletes, what it DID do was shine light on the fact that Derek and his sister were seen as outcasts in their family since they were part-black. Did not know that.

As an aside, this book came out just after Jeter was dating Mariah Carey, so it was fun to walk down that memory lane again, as well as reminisce about the Boston Brawl, the A-Rod comments in SI, A-Rod coming to NY, Clemens on steroids, Torre's departure, the talk about his shameful Gold Gloves, the 2010 negotiations...NONE of which had happened at that point. Long decade for Mr. Jeter.

A younger Jeter and Mariah Carey. Handled that press like a pro.

Movie #3: Silence of the Lambs

Silence of the Lambs: worth the hype

At #74 on the AFI list, Silence of the Lambs remains in my short list of most disturbing movies ever (Requiem For a Dream is at the top). It is a different sort of scary movie in its realism and its psychotics: Hannibal Lecter (played absolutely brilliantly by Sir Anthony Hopkins) and Buffalo Bill (played by Ted Levine) don't look like traditional slasher types like Michael Meyers or Jason Voorhees. I decided to pick this movie up around Halloween and gave it a watch. Here are my notes:

1) Just before Starling goes to see Lecter the first time, when Chilton says “you might have suggested this in my office, saved me the time” and she responds “yes, but then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company” shows a brief tongue-in-cheek moment, and a demonstration of her personal strength and character. It's Jodie Foster at her best.

2) Wonder what the auditions were like for the inmates…Miggs’ “I can smell your c---” line must have required a few reads-through, right? (by the way, Lecter'ss “I,myself, cannot” is the most underrated line in the movie)

3) Our first look at Lecter with the imposing music builds him up perfectly. The wide eyes in the first close-up…stunning. There are few times in the movies where the anticipation is handed off to pure dread and fear, rather than being scared.

Hair's are raising on my neck just searching for this picture...

4) For as famous as it is, the fava beans and Chianti line comes out only 20 minutes into the movie...sort of a big gun to bring so early. Still, a witty character, this Doctor Lecter.

5) The autopsy scene is particularly gross. As they turn the victim over, it unlocks a piece of the puzzle…which uncoincidentally kick-started my hatred for bugs. Woof.

6) The newscaster on TV who announces that victim in well…bellhop from That Thing You Do?/father/principal from Dawson’s Creek? (Update: Yes. Ladies and gentlemen, Obba Babatunde!)

7) What makes this a scary movie is that it is truly a disturbing movie…the “its rubs the lotion on its skin” scene is nuts, particularly when it reaches its climax of Katherine screaming as she sees the blood and such on the wall of the well. Just an avalanche of disturbia.

8) Lecter is tremendously charismatic, if offensive and erotic. Looks like an uber-creepy Bing Crosby…or Frank Gorshin.

9) Dr. Chilton is undoubtedly one of the most unlikeable characters in cinematic history.

10) Lt. Boyle, security guard, was also in…(update: RAMBO! He's Murdock! Also part of the innuendo sequence in the second Austin Powers movie. Thanks, IMDB.)

11) If it’s more possible to be as stylish and as brutal, I’d like to see it. You certainly don’t in anything this side of Talented Mr. Ripley.

12) "Goodbye Horses” by Q Lazzarus is a pretty sweet song. Speaking of the tuck scene, all I can think of is David Lee Roth. I'm not THAT far off, am I? Also, nice ring collection.

Diamond Dave would never tuck.

13) The dead body in the bathtub was gross, of course. I’m not sure if it was more disturbing than, say, the fatsuit of skin that Clarice sees before her pursuit of Buffalo Bill in his basement. Again, the lack of corn syrup being sprayed all over the place makes this movie SO frightening.

14) Buffalo Bill in those night-vision goggles could have been stunt-doubled by Craig T. Nelson.

From a psychological and chill factor's perspective, Silence of the Lambs stacks up against any movie in history, in my opinion. Verdict: Fantastic.

New York City: The Late Show with David Letterman

The Late Show with David Letterman
A little outdated, but here goes:

In June of 2010, I managed to cross off the first of my NYC checklist items off by going to see The Late Show with David Letterman. I had gotten the tickets from a buddy of mine who comes to Monday night trivia; he knows a guy who works at CBS and is able to score periodic tickets. With the weather changing and nothing on the agenda for an afternoon, I went to see what the fuss was about with my brother and brother-in-law. I had long been a fan of Letterman since I was old enough to stay up late to catch the Late Show. Letterman struck me as generally funnier than Leno in part due to the biting nature of his work in the 90s; Leno struck me as cheesy and a bit hokey. In any event, Letterman remains a more logical show to see live, as Leno is out west.

We started off with a nice burger and a pint right around the block from CBS studios in Manhattan. The guests that day were: Helen Mirren, Colin Hanks, and musical guest Cyndi Lauper featuring Allen Toussaint. Show went down like this:

Lots of standing on line. Our tickets were of the VIP variety, but we had to arrive an hour or so early just to ensure that our tickets would be held, and for the sake of getting a good seat. We ended up in the balcony, third row, with a solid view of bandleader Paul Shaffer's keyboards. The constant movement of cameras gave us solid-though not constant- views of Letterman's desk.

VIP. Feels good, though it didn't get us out of waiting on line...

My initial thought is that Letterman looked old: too much makeup and sloped shoulders, a little cantankerous and off-putting during the breaks. I tried to think about how a show in mid-2010 must be for this guy by that point, nearly 5000 appearances in to his television career, and came around to a sort of "what a pro" mentality. Everything until the musical portion of the program was done in one take (which, I gather, was part clockwork, part wanting to come of as self-deprecating in the event of any slip-ups, which has been an endearing part of Letterman's general allure: the man's not afraid to screw up every once in a while), and so I gained a profound respect for the people who work on that set and the way they go about their business.
Compelled to give a few pictures, since we weren't allowed to take any indoors.

Dame Helen Mirren was stunning...not even for an at-the-time 63 year-old. She is just a good looking gal. She carried herself with that sort of whimsical charm that brings out the best of the English, and received a huge round of applause from the crowd for both her pro-USA soccer sentiments (on the heels of the 1-1 draw against England the previous Saturday) and her condemning words for BP (at the height of the oil spill...feels like ages ago, no?). In the meantime, I can't be alone in saying that she was an exceptional guest.

Colin Hanks was next, and was largely forgettable. I remember seeing him on Roswell back in the day, and hadn't seen anything of his since. Still, a nice enough guy, coming fresh off of a wedding. So there's that.

The only snafu of the show was the musical portion of the program. There was a re-take because the announcing team and intro cues were mixed up. Mr. Letterman looked REALLY peeved that this was taking place, and wasn't quite fuzzy for the rest of the taping. Lauper sounded great, for what it's worth. She was plugging her then-new album, and performed a number from the album. It was no "She-bop", but it was entertaining. Toussaint's piano skills were very impressive; I had heard some of his work through college in what was about a semester-long New Orleans kick.

All in all, a good program. I'm glad to have gone, and would gladly do so again. Tickets are free, if you're willing to wait a bit. A highly recommended excursion while Letterman's still plugging along.
A fun afternoon in the city with family.

Movie #2: Citizen Kane

Citizen Kane: Orson Welles' 1941 classic

The whole idea to take out a chunk of AFI's Top 100 films of the last 100 years revolves around my desire to start at the top with the 1941 classic, Citizen Kane. Being a huge fan of the Godfather, I was stunned to learn that there was a movie that a widely-respected organization claimed was better than Pacino, Brando, Caan, Cazale, Keaton, Duvall, and company. For quite some time, I had been meaning to was Orson Welles' masterpiece, even arranging a city weekend to check it out (which fell through). Being unable to find it at stores, it seemed as if it would remain elusive, as though I was not meant to see it.

Then, in my search for something to fall asleep to on the way back from Hong Kong, I saw it. Among the (surprisingly vast and diverse) movie selections was Citizen Kane. Well-equipped with sixteen hours to kill, I decided to dive right in. Two hours later, I was not disappointed. There was a lot to like about this movie from the get-go, so let's get into a few of them, shall we?

1) The way the story is structured, it almost seemed like one of those "In the news" bulletins they used to play before films in the theaters (ask your parents/grandparents about it), though solely focused on Kane. This makes the movie a precursor for the Biography channel, E! True Hollywood Story, AND Behind the Music...only on top of that, they throw in the mystery of the whole Rosebud angle (curse Family Guy for spoiling this). That leads me to my next point...

2) The symbolism of Rosebud makes this a credible artistic endeavor. While Citizen Kane was entertaining from many angles, it does force the viewer to come up with a little bit of speculation as to what Kane did to fill this void in his life. As we see when he builds Xanadu, the finest and most expensive things in the world don't add up to make happiness. Without the Rosebud angle, it can be inferred that Kane just had an insatiable appetite for consumption in every regard. This monkey wrench, however, changes the character from someone who just wants more to someone who's actually broken up about going without, who is actually missing something. It's another dimension to the film, and while one could argue that psychologically, Kane's endless consumerism could represent that anyway, Rosebud drives the point home and actually gives a symbol of that ceaseless yearning.

3) Welles shows impressive range, in my opinion, for portraying Kane at every step of the way to the top of his field: from naive young man to uber-powerful mogul, it's as though Welles had drawn from personal experience to show a wide array of characteristic traits. His transitions, too, are impressive, to the point that the nuances between young Kane and in-his-prime Kane and broken Kane are nearly imperceptible until the climax of each phase of Kane's life are already on the table. For example, the scene where all of the dancers are brought into the staff dinner/meeting: early in the scene, it comes across as a genuinely grateful gesture on Kane's part to his partners who have collectively reached the top. There's a look that Welles gives towards the end of the scene, however, that carries a lot of heft behind it, as if saying "I run this show".

4) The scene changes and cinematography. I understand that now I can make a movie using my own computer and a webcam using similar fade techniques and all. What's impressive about this is in the fact that the film this year is 70 years old! Rather than a fade to black or an abrupt cut to the next scene, Welles works an effective, targeted fade from one scene to another, and to a specific object in the next scene, to be precise. Just a very well-shot film. That's another thing, before we move forward: there's a lot to be said for older films which manage to captivate the viewer based on content of the scene, rather than resorting to constant changes of angles. It drives me crazy that it seems to be such a crutch of a tactic; the content is the key, and is what should be able to hold the attention of the viewer.

Note the transition from shot to shot
This brings up a huge debating point of this list and cinema enjoyment in general: how much of a buoy/hindrance is it to be an antiquated movie? The statement that I've been trying to avoid has been, "for its time". Is that fair one way or the other? On one hand, the technologies of today were inconceivable in 1941, and so do we give extra credit (as it may appear AFI has done with their selections) to older films for what they were able to do way back when? On the other hand, it strikes me as a little unfair to create a list of comedies that include many older films, simply because tastes in humor have changed, language has aged, and frankly, there are some films which are considered funny simply by default; Bob Hope is funny to fewer and fewer people as time goes on simply because the styles of humor have changed. As a result, to simply reward older films with a loftier standing on this list because they're older. Keep in mind, I understand and appreciate the idea of acknowledging that which came earlier. But that doesn't mean what came first was better in all cases. In my opinion, you reward slightly. What you should NOT do is handicap newer films for not having entirely original concepts, as 100 years of cinema will deplete the stock of fresh concepts.

All in all, a great film. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. While it doesn't have the rewatchability of, say, The Rock, Citizen Kane is certainly deserving of a spot on this prestigious list. Whether it deserves the top spot is something I'd like to debate. I give it two thumbs up and would certainly recommend this film for anyone, particularly those who can appreciate good film.

Western #1: True Grit (new)

The original True Grit was on last month, and I caught the final two thirds of the film. For the sake of authenticity, I will not say that I saw it, as I definitely missed the beginning. However, I retained enough to have been able to make the connection to the new one when I saw it on the way to Hong Kong. Here are my thoughts (Note: I did not read the 1968 Charles Portis book by the same name)...

The 1969 version of True Grit (starring John Wayne in his only Oscar-winning role) was better, if only for the reason that it was the original theatrical version of the story. While the Coen Brothers remake strikes different chords with regards to cinematography and artistic development, I think that the only thing it tops the original in is the idea of an artistic endeavor in the first place. The story remained the same. Much of the dialogue was almost word-for-word lifted from the original. There shouldn't be any debate over which story was better, as they were nearly mirrored.

The role of Rooster Cogburn fits John Wayne's sort of grizzled, do-as-I-damn-well-please demeanor at that point with countless westerns under his belt. I don't know where the argument that Jeff Bridges pulled the role off better comes from. Look, here's the thing: Bridges did have to strive to turn himself into the role of Cogburn. The problem is that Wayne had the role first, and- unlike something along the lines of Heath Ledger's turn at the Joker compared to Jack Nicholson or Cesar Romero- Bridges didn't re-invent the wheel with this portrayal. It's not that he was bad (in fact, I thought it was an enjoyable part to see him in), it's just that his having to strive to embody that character was not as convincing as John Wayne owning the character.

That is the other point: whether you think Wayne had to act at all to become Rooster Cogburn, the whole aura of "great" actors is that they make it seem like they're not acting at all, like they REALLY ARE the character they're playing on screen. Take Christian Bale as Dicky Eklund in The Fighter: he won the Oscar BECAUSE he did such a convincing job of owning the character. How hard he had to try to imitate Dicky Eklund is irrelevant; the important thing is that it was convincing. Now, I will venture to say that it may not have been a stretch to imagine John Wayne as a grizzled old man (cowboy?) based on having seen other films of his before...but he embodies crotchety, old, weathered Rooster better.

Now, Hailee Steinfeld does a more convincing job in her role than her predecessor, Kim Darby. Part of this is aided by the fact that she's younger than Darby was at the time of the 1969 film's release, thus making the vigilante seeking revenge angle come across as more heartfelt. What makes the 1969 version more authentic, for lack of a better term, from a character perspective is that Steinfeld and Bridges seem to get along a lot easier. While this cohesion should make it better, the stand-offish nature of Wayne lends itself to his loner character. As a result, when he DOES come around to taking Kim Darby under his wing in the original film, it's a grander gesture of acceptance and friendship.

All in all, the names in the 2010 True Grit (including Matt Damon, who gives a solid performance, not unlike Robert Duvall in the original) are probably better actors. However, I'd give my "better performance" award to Wayne and the 1969 crowd. It may be unfair to play the "they did it first" card, but in this case, anyway, that's precisely the point. In a time where "based on" is thrown around too liberally, the 1969 version of True Grit stands out as the first of the two to follow the Portis book fairly closely. The Coens DO provide an updated set, backdrop, and cinematic expression...but much like Avatar wasn't a revolutionary storyline, the familiarity with Rooster and company was established long before the Coen Brothers set out to dream it up...again.

That said, the story itself is quite enjoyable. I found the hunt to be a little slow in both versions, but was impressed by the raw thirst for justice displayed by the heroine. The character of Cogburn is endearing because it embodies a more badass form of good grandparents: supportive, understanding, a bit dismissive of the younger generations, and a certain "I'm too old for this, but I'll get dragged into action again" sentiment. All in all, a good recipe to pass the time on a 16-hour flight, which is a much more important test to pass than you might think.