I have a little rock fountain in my kitchen. My mother bought it for me when I came back from Australia in 2001. It holds a picture of me and my friend, Justine, standing on the quay in front of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
The first thing I do when I get up the morning is turn on that fountain and watch the water stream down over the little rocks. At the same time, I pour myself a glass of cool Portland tap water which is the first thing to pass my lips, quickly followed by coffee.
I love water. I enjoy the taste of it, the sound of it, and I insist on living by a flowing source of it. There is something calming and assuring about the constant flow of water. Energizing and invigorating too. Except of course when it is overflowing and flooding entire communities. Then, not so much.
I think about my favorite vacations, and they have all been in areas brought to life by the local water source. The Seine in Paris, the Arno in Florence, the Thames, the Brisbane River, Lake Geneva. And now we live at the convergence of two of the most historic and fruitful rivers in the country, the Columbia and the Willamette.
I have the pleasure every morning of crossing over the Willamette on my way to work. Some days, the sun shines on the chrome of the Fremont Bridge to my left or the Steel Bridge to my right and reflects onto the water in a brilliant display of light. Other times, when it's gray and overcast, the puffy clouds cast a silverish hue over the landscape that entrances me. Either way, I look forward to crossing and discovering the new painting of the day.
I know that I'm not alone in my hydro-veneration. Many people are equally enthralled, perhaps because we entered the world through a channel of water after spending nine months in a sac of it.
Did I just ruin the moment? My mother would either be really impressed or really grossed out right now. Knowing her, probably the latter.
Anyway, my point is this. Clearly, I have had too much coffee, and it's time to stop playing on the computer.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A Rant
I work for a bank as a financial sales rep in a call center, and I speak to many people daily. Some people are a pleasure to speak with, and some are more of a challenge.
There are days I am humbled by the financial situations presented to me. For example, the customer who calls inquiring about a home equity loan, and, when I ask what their home is worth, they reply "Well, two years ago, it was $425,000; but now...I don't know, maybe $280?" Many of these people have been severely hurt by interest-only mortgages, or just the state of the economy in general. I have great sympathy for consumers who have been affected by the housing market, the stock market, the job market.
And THEN, there are the other people. Those who have seemingly been blind to what has been going on in the banking industry. One of my all-time favorites was a young man who called the other day stating that he wanted to open a checking account. I asked if he was looking for any particular type of account, like one he could use for direct deposit, one that offers rewards, etc. He replied that he just needed to open one so he could go into the bank tomorrow and get some cash. ??? Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I am pretty sure you open a checking account when you have some money to put IN to the bank and want to start managing it. I said to him "It sounds like maybe what you need is a credit card" to which he replied "Oh no, I have awful credit. I'll never get approved. I just need to open an account so I can go in to the bank tomorrow and get an advance." !!!!!!
Where do these people come from? Why on earth would a bank open an account for a brand new customer, with AWFUL credit no less, just to GIVE him money? I explained that in order to open a checking account, he would actually be required to fund it with a minimum of $50 to which he replied "I aint got $50! If I did, I wouldn't be calling you."
It is truly amazing to me that, in our current economic climate, we somehow have continued to instill that wonderful sense of entitlement in such deserving young people.
I was listening to NPR the other day, and they were speaking with a financial analyst about the current state of the market. APRs are very low right now (as are interest rates on deposit accounts unfortunately), and the Federal Reserve sees no increase in funds in the near future. The prime rate has been 3.25% for almost a year and should stay that way for a good while. Still, many consumers are getting raped by their credit card interest rates. Some truly just got a bad deal and should not be suffering at the hands of the credit lenders. Many, however, are reaping what they have sown. APRs commonly increase to a very high rate when a consumer has maxed out their credit, exceeded their limit or been seriously delinquent in their payments. These are perils about which the consumer is warned when they apply for credit. I know because we religiously read these disclosures over the phone as well as mail them to the customers. Yet many people overextend themselves anyway.
The simple revelation expressed by the analyst on NPR was this-"Interest is the cost for credit." What an obvious, yet overlooked, truth. It's what we pay for the privilege of having credit. But we, and I am speaking for myself and certainly not for everyone, have grown to expect that privilege, and we really don't care to pay for it. Case in point, my guy who wanted a checking account so the bank could give him money. As wacky as that sounds to me, that actually makes sense to somebody else!
So, to sum this all up, while I might not be the best salesperson or the smartest financial service provider, I certainly am learning a lot about the people in our nation and their expectations and the wide, wide array of morals and sensibilities they possess. My job is nothing if not enlightening.
There are days I am humbled by the financial situations presented to me. For example, the customer who calls inquiring about a home equity loan, and, when I ask what their home is worth, they reply "Well, two years ago, it was $425,000; but now...I don't know, maybe $280?" Many of these people have been severely hurt by interest-only mortgages, or just the state of the economy in general. I have great sympathy for consumers who have been affected by the housing market, the stock market, the job market.
And THEN, there are the other people. Those who have seemingly been blind to what has been going on in the banking industry. One of my all-time favorites was a young man who called the other day stating that he wanted to open a checking account. I asked if he was looking for any particular type of account, like one he could use for direct deposit, one that offers rewards, etc. He replied that he just needed to open one so he could go into the bank tomorrow and get some cash. ??? Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I am pretty sure you open a checking account when you have some money to put IN to the bank and want to start managing it. I said to him "It sounds like maybe what you need is a credit card" to which he replied "Oh no, I have awful credit. I'll never get approved. I just need to open an account so I can go in to the bank tomorrow and get an advance." !!!!!!
Where do these people come from? Why on earth would a bank open an account for a brand new customer, with AWFUL credit no less, just to GIVE him money? I explained that in order to open a checking account, he would actually be required to fund it with a minimum of $50 to which he replied "I aint got $50! If I did, I wouldn't be calling you."
It is truly amazing to me that, in our current economic climate, we somehow have continued to instill that wonderful sense of entitlement in such deserving young people.
I was listening to NPR the other day, and they were speaking with a financial analyst about the current state of the market. APRs are very low right now (as are interest rates on deposit accounts unfortunately), and the Federal Reserve sees no increase in funds in the near future. The prime rate has been 3.25% for almost a year and should stay that way for a good while. Still, many consumers are getting raped by their credit card interest rates. Some truly just got a bad deal and should not be suffering at the hands of the credit lenders. Many, however, are reaping what they have sown. APRs commonly increase to a very high rate when a consumer has maxed out their credit, exceeded their limit or been seriously delinquent in their payments. These are perils about which the consumer is warned when they apply for credit. I know because we religiously read these disclosures over the phone as well as mail them to the customers. Yet many people overextend themselves anyway.
The simple revelation expressed by the analyst on NPR was this-"Interest is the cost for credit." What an obvious, yet overlooked, truth. It's what we pay for the privilege of having credit. But we, and I am speaking for myself and certainly not for everyone, have grown to expect that privilege, and we really don't care to pay for it. Case in point, my guy who wanted a checking account so the bank could give him money. As wacky as that sounds to me, that actually makes sense to somebody else!
So, to sum this all up, while I might not be the best salesperson or the smartest financial service provider, I certainly am learning a lot about the people in our nation and their expectations and the wide, wide array of morals and sensibilities they possess. My job is nothing if not enlightening.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Anniversaire 38!
I love that Kandinsky on the wall. I love the memory it evokes of our night in Milan after Tommy got his wallet picked in Grand Central Station, and we fought the victim blues to go out on the town and have an amazing dinner at that wonderful ristorante with the antipasti buffet. And afterwards, we walked out to see crowds of people entering the Palazzo Reale for a nighttime exhibit. We could have spent the night sulking in our tiny room watching tv, but we are not two to be kept down for long.
Saturday night, Tommy spoiled me with a ridiculous dinner at Jake's Famous Crawfish. We started with heavenly martinis, this time with our dirt on the side. Good idea, Boo! We then moved on to amazing giant prawns in a zesty cocktail sauce, followed by fresh bread and delicious chunky clam chowder. Then came the behemoth. A six-ounce filet mignon accompanied by two, TWO, six-ounce lobster tails. Incidentals included a buttery mound of mashed potatoes and some crisp, steamed green beans and julienned carrots. Absolutely decadent. The pinot I had was from a local winery called Erath, and it was the perfect complement to my perfectly-cooked medium rare filet.
Somehow, we had the stomach after all this to stop at Cool Moon on our walk home for ice cream. They have the creamiest, most flavorful ice cream, and they are our neighbors so, you know, we had to. Why should they be deprived of celebrating my birth?
All in all, my birthday was a huge success. I spent much of the day chatting with people on the phone who called to wish me a happy happy. Thanks, Mom, Dad, Janna and Steve, Megan, Audrey, David, Greg and Mary, and Tom, Sr.
We started the day with breakfast at Bread & Ink (http://www.breadandinkcafe.com/) and some fun shopping on Hawthorne. Our Belgian waffle with fresh berries, peaches, whipped cream and cardamom syrup was an oral Disneyland, and the eggs Benedict were perfect. We love the shops on Hawthorne and spent a good deal of time (and money) at Presents Of Mind. The whole neighborhood was darling and had a fun, hip vibe. After that, we went to the Saturday Farmers Market at PSU which was recently named by Delta's inflight magazine the best farmers market on the planet. And it is! And, apparently, everyone else read the same article because it was PACKED! But we will gladly brave the crowds to stock up every Saturday because it has everything. From produce to pate, artisan cheeses and breads, seafood, all kinds of meat, pretty much everything you need for your kitchen. Plus they have live music (as opposed to dead music?) and lots of other fun products.
I love the way the community here supports their local growers. I am a convert. Where I used to balk at spending $40-50 at a farmers market, I now see the benefits, and I aspire to start spending less at the supermarket than I spend on the local growers from now on.
One of the fabulous gifts I received for my birthday was Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I dove into it yesterday, and it just feeds my soul. Her idea to start requiring an agricultural education for our kids is not far off base. I wasted a lot of time in school on algebra, but couldn't tell you where my food came from. It is a little scary that today's kids are even more in the dark. I hope that movies like Fast Food Nation, Food, Inc. and Super Size Me are visible enough to encourage people to become more aware.
As if I wasn't inconsistent enough about blogging, it is about to become even more of a challenge to keep it up. I have suddenly become a voracious reader again, and I could seriously spend hours with my nose in a book. I am currently reading three, count them-three, books. I am determined to complete the Victor Fleming biography, epic as it is. I have one chapter to go plus an afterword, filmography, and pages and pages of notes. Good lord, Michael Sragow did a number for Mr. Fleming! Then, for my soul, I have Kingsolver's AVM; and for my soul's dessert, I have Groucho's letters. It's a really good literary diet, I must say. But, just know, if you don't see anything new from me for a while, I am probably nestled in some pages, going cross-eyed.
Saturday night, Tommy spoiled me with a ridiculous dinner at Jake's Famous Crawfish. We started with heavenly martinis, this time with our dirt on the side. Good idea, Boo! We then moved on to amazing giant prawns in a zesty cocktail sauce, followed by fresh bread and delicious chunky clam chowder. Then came the behemoth. A six-ounce filet mignon accompanied by two, TWO, six-ounce lobster tails. Incidentals included a buttery mound of mashed potatoes and some crisp, steamed green beans and julienned carrots. Absolutely decadent. The pinot I had was from a local winery called Erath, and it was the perfect complement to my perfectly-cooked medium rare filet.
Somehow, we had the stomach after all this to stop at Cool Moon on our walk home for ice cream. They have the creamiest, most flavorful ice cream, and they are our neighbors so, you know, we had to. Why should they be deprived of celebrating my birth?
All in all, my birthday was a huge success. I spent much of the day chatting with people on the phone who called to wish me a happy happy. Thanks, Mom, Dad, Janna and Steve, Megan, Audrey, David, Greg and Mary, and Tom, Sr.
We started the day with breakfast at Bread & Ink (http://www.breadandinkcafe.com/) and some fun shopping on Hawthorne. Our Belgian waffle with fresh berries, peaches, whipped cream and cardamom syrup was an oral Disneyland, and the eggs Benedict were perfect. We love the shops on Hawthorne and spent a good deal of time (and money) at Presents Of Mind. The whole neighborhood was darling and had a fun, hip vibe. After that, we went to the Saturday Farmers Market at PSU which was recently named by Delta's inflight magazine the best farmers market on the planet. And it is! And, apparently, everyone else read the same article because it was PACKED! But we will gladly brave the crowds to stock up every Saturday because it has everything. From produce to pate, artisan cheeses and breads, seafood, all kinds of meat, pretty much everything you need for your kitchen. Plus they have live music (as opposed to dead music?) and lots of other fun products.
I love the way the community here supports their local growers. I am a convert. Where I used to balk at spending $40-50 at a farmers market, I now see the benefits, and I aspire to start spending less at the supermarket than I spend on the local growers from now on.
One of the fabulous gifts I received for my birthday was Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I dove into it yesterday, and it just feeds my soul. Her idea to start requiring an agricultural education for our kids is not far off base. I wasted a lot of time in school on algebra, but couldn't tell you where my food came from. It is a little scary that today's kids are even more in the dark. I hope that movies like Fast Food Nation, Food, Inc. and Super Size Me are visible enough to encourage people to become more aware.
As if I wasn't inconsistent enough about blogging, it is about to become even more of a challenge to keep it up. I have suddenly become a voracious reader again, and I could seriously spend hours with my nose in a book. I am currently reading three, count them-three, books. I am determined to complete the Victor Fleming biography, epic as it is. I have one chapter to go plus an afterword, filmography, and pages and pages of notes. Good lord, Michael Sragow did a number for Mr. Fleming! Then, for my soul, I have Kingsolver's AVM; and for my soul's dessert, I have Groucho's letters. It's a really good literary diet, I must say. But, just know, if you don't see anything new from me for a while, I am probably nestled in some pages, going cross-eyed.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
It's Orange Outside, And God Gave Me Webbed Feet
It has been a full couple of weeks since my last post. Mom Wilson came for a visit. We took her to The International Rose Test Garden. The roses were not being tested during our visit. Apparently, they have passed all their tests for this year and are now just sitting there, posing. We also took her to the Chinese Classical Garden which sits on a corner in a neighborhood laughingly called "Chinatown." I say "laughingly" because it really ought to be called Shadytown. The garden is lovely; the neighborhood is not.
We also took her to Multnomah Falls, the Saturday Market and the Japanese Botanical Gardens. The visit was short and sweet, but it was great to see my mom.
Last weekend, Tommy's sister Janna came for a visit. Again, short and sweet, but we had an amazing time. We hiked the five-mile Wahkeena/Multnomah Falls Loop. Really, five-and-a-half miles if you count the trail BACK to the parking lot. It was a perfect day for the hike as the sun was shining, but not too brightly, and the trail was cool and green.
We also visited a vegetarian restaurant on the east side called Blossoming Lotus, or, as I prefer to call it, Buh-rossoming Rotus. The food was delicious, while mysterious. I don't know about this "tempeh" product. Hearing it mentioned previously, I always assumed it was a native cuisine of Tempe, Arizona. Evidently, its origin is actually Indonesia. It is a "plant-based protein." You have to love the vagueness of that description. To this day, I am not exactly sure of what I ate, but it tasted good saturated in barbecue sauce with spicy bean chili and corn bread.
Work has been a challenge. I am not nearly as articulate about personal finance as I expected I would be. I think they fried my brain in training; and, now, when I open my mouth to assist a customer, all that seems to pour out is mush. I anticipate steady improvement, but, at the same time, I don't want to get too good at this. Every day, I miss acting. I miss auditioning, running calls, rehearsing and performing. I even miss the occasional extra work that kept me busy between better paying gigs. I do not miss the driving. I certainly do not miss spending two hours in traffic for a five-minute audition.
I remind myself daily that everything is only for now. This job is temporary, and nobody knows what 2010 will bring. I can say with certainty, however, that I am not done with my creative work. I am still not sure what that work encompasses, but, darn it, it's going to be good.
I am enjoying the randomness of life. I am loving the beauty of this city in which I now live and the promise it holds. I am thankful for bounty. Not the paper towels, although they are the quicker picker upper. No, I mean the bounty with which I have been blessed. I am thankful for the Snuggie I received for my birthday and for the wonderful friends who were thoughtful enough to send it. Mostly, I am thankful that anyone cares enough about me to read this nonsense. I have great friends and a pretty bitchin' life. Who could ask for anything more? (That was rhetorical.)
We also took her to Multnomah Falls, the Saturday Market and the Japanese Botanical Gardens. The visit was short and sweet, but it was great to see my mom.
Last weekend, Tommy's sister Janna came for a visit. Again, short and sweet, but we had an amazing time. We hiked the five-mile Wahkeena/Multnomah Falls Loop. Really, five-and-a-half miles if you count the trail BACK to the parking lot. It was a perfect day for the hike as the sun was shining, but not too brightly, and the trail was cool and green.
We also visited a vegetarian restaurant on the east side called Blossoming Lotus, or, as I prefer to call it, Buh-rossoming Rotus. The food was delicious, while mysterious. I don't know about this "tempeh" product. Hearing it mentioned previously, I always assumed it was a native cuisine of Tempe, Arizona. Evidently, its origin is actually Indonesia. It is a "plant-based protein." You have to love the vagueness of that description. To this day, I am not exactly sure of what I ate, but it tasted good saturated in barbecue sauce with spicy bean chili and corn bread.
Work has been a challenge. I am not nearly as articulate about personal finance as I expected I would be. I think they fried my brain in training; and, now, when I open my mouth to assist a customer, all that seems to pour out is mush. I anticipate steady improvement, but, at the same time, I don't want to get too good at this. Every day, I miss acting. I miss auditioning, running calls, rehearsing and performing. I even miss the occasional extra work that kept me busy between better paying gigs. I do not miss the driving. I certainly do not miss spending two hours in traffic for a five-minute audition.
I remind myself daily that everything is only for now. This job is temporary, and nobody knows what 2010 will bring. I can say with certainty, however, that I am not done with my creative work. I am still not sure what that work encompasses, but, darn it, it's going to be good.
I am enjoying the randomness of life. I am loving the beauty of this city in which I now live and the promise it holds. I am thankful for bounty. Not the paper towels, although they are the quicker picker upper. No, I mean the bounty with which I have been blessed. I am thankful for the Snuggie I received for my birthday and for the wonderful friends who were thoughtful enough to send it. Mostly, I am thankful that anyone cares enough about me to read this nonsense. I have great friends and a pretty bitchin' life. Who could ask for anything more? (That was rhetorical.)
Friday, September 11, 2009
Wish I Were Here
Today is my graduation day. After three weeks of snoring through new banker class, I will receive my "diploma" and a pizza before being reassigned to the call center, or, as I call it, the lions' den.
Our trainer is very good, but I have discovered anew that I am not an auditory learner. Never have been. I am a visual learner. I remember things when my brain captures an associative image and records it for later use. The sound of a person's voice, any voice, but especially one with a nasal droning tone, just sends me off. Off into the wild blue yonder. If I have had caffeine and am sufficiently rested, I may be able to hang in there with a lot of effort and focus, but it's a challenge.
And that's what I keep telling myself. This experience is a challenge and a moment in time. This entry into the banking world is the bottom rung of a ladder I can choose to dismount at any time; or I can choose to climb it to a more exciting and fulfilling level. That choice has yet to be determined.
Back to the learning process, I was journaling this morning and trying to think of ways I would improve the training process. I started to write "more writing exercises demanding more product review," but then I realized we have been given those assignments and I never take advantage of the opportunities to delve more into the product details. I get those assignments, and just race through them, writing out the bare minimum answers to get a passing score. It's just like school. I never wanted to be there unless I was distracting people and getting some sort of attention from the teacher, good or bad. Funny how some things never change.
Yesterday, we all spent time on the call center floor. That's bank lingo for taking customer calls. It doesn't mean we were all sprawled out on the floor; though I would have been okay with that. Anyway, I got to listen in on some phone calls. My favorite was from a teenager, born in 1990 (!!!), who wanted a $2000 unsecured loan (for no apparent reason). She worked part-time and earned $4000 a year. And I thought my income was meager! Strangely, her request was declined.
I can remember the humorous details of that call. But can I recall where to find APRs on our credit cards? Heck, no.
Here's what I can recall.
Last weekend, T and I walked down to the north park blocks to attend Art In the Pearl. The day started cool and sunny, but there were clouds coming in. We did not take the threat of rain seriously as we have begun to think that rain is an urban myth here. We have had nothing but warm, sometimes hot, weather since arriving eight weeks ago.
As we walked through the park taking in the unique and beautiful artwork, the cloud cover became heavier and it started to sprinkle. Then it started to POUR. And when it pours here, it's not like California where it stops after five minutes because the sky has run out of water. It continues for hours. Well, this particular rain wasn't touching us because we were walking under a shelter of high tree branches. As we strolled, we looked up, and, through the openings between the trees, we saw sunlight shining on the rain as it came down on top of the artists' tents and the uncovered ground. It was gorgeous. It was a sight I don't remember ever seeing. It was uniquely Portland. When I witness that kind of beauty, my senses are awakened and I can't help but smile. That's the reason we came here. That's what will keep me going when I am in my cubicle taking calls. I may be physically removed from anything beautiful; but, in my imaginative little pea-brain, you can bet I will be dancing in the park under the branches of the tall trees sheltered from the rain.
Our trainer is very good, but I have discovered anew that I am not an auditory learner. Never have been. I am a visual learner. I remember things when my brain captures an associative image and records it for later use. The sound of a person's voice, any voice, but especially one with a nasal droning tone, just sends me off. Off into the wild blue yonder. If I have had caffeine and am sufficiently rested, I may be able to hang in there with a lot of effort and focus, but it's a challenge.
And that's what I keep telling myself. This experience is a challenge and a moment in time. This entry into the banking world is the bottom rung of a ladder I can choose to dismount at any time; or I can choose to climb it to a more exciting and fulfilling level. That choice has yet to be determined.
Back to the learning process, I was journaling this morning and trying to think of ways I would improve the training process. I started to write "more writing exercises demanding more product review," but then I realized we have been given those assignments and I never take advantage of the opportunities to delve more into the product details. I get those assignments, and just race through them, writing out the bare minimum answers to get a passing score. It's just like school. I never wanted to be there unless I was distracting people and getting some sort of attention from the teacher, good or bad. Funny how some things never change.
Yesterday, we all spent time on the call center floor. That's bank lingo for taking customer calls. It doesn't mean we were all sprawled out on the floor; though I would have been okay with that. Anyway, I got to listen in on some phone calls. My favorite was from a teenager, born in 1990 (!!!), who wanted a $2000 unsecured loan (for no apparent reason). She worked part-time and earned $4000 a year. And I thought my income was meager! Strangely, her request was declined.
I can remember the humorous details of that call. But can I recall where to find APRs on our credit cards? Heck, no.
Here's what I can recall.
Last weekend, T and I walked down to the north park blocks to attend Art In the Pearl. The day started cool and sunny, but there were clouds coming in. We did not take the threat of rain seriously as we have begun to think that rain is an urban myth here. We have had nothing but warm, sometimes hot, weather since arriving eight weeks ago.
As we walked through the park taking in the unique and beautiful artwork, the cloud cover became heavier and it started to sprinkle. Then it started to POUR. And when it pours here, it's not like California where it stops after five minutes because the sky has run out of water. It continues for hours. Well, this particular rain wasn't touching us because we were walking under a shelter of high tree branches. As we strolled, we looked up, and, through the openings between the trees, we saw sunlight shining on the rain as it came down on top of the artists' tents and the uncovered ground. It was gorgeous. It was a sight I don't remember ever seeing. It was uniquely Portland. When I witness that kind of beauty, my senses are awakened and I can't help but smile. That's the reason we came here. That's what will keep me going when I am in my cubicle taking calls. I may be physically removed from anything beautiful; but, in my imaginative little pea-brain, you can bet I will be dancing in the park under the branches of the tall trees sheltered from the rain.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Inglourious Food, Inc.
There is just so much goodness to keep us entertained these days. Last night, we watched a greatest hits of SYTYCD show, and it was so inspiring. Those dancers are amazing. I can't decide among the Samba, the disco, the cancer dance or the addiction which one is my favorite. Or maybe it's Neil and Sabra in the office, or Mark and Chelsea dancing to Frozen. Oh, it's just too much goodness. Anyway, that has nothing to do with today's post. I just hope that you, dear reader, have had the privilege of watching these talented artists.
Now, on to other talented artists. T and I went to see Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds last week, and I was hooked from the first scene. Why this movie was not on the top of my priority list the minute it came out I'll never know. Tarantino has yet to let me down. Now, some people may not like talky films; and, if this applies to you, by all means, stay away. The first scene could be thirty minutes long for all I know because the characters talk and talk and talk. But the talking is soooo good. The scene had me a nervous wreck right from the get-go. I think I devoured most of my fingernails in that first act. The rest were gone by the final act.
It is not a perfect movie (but what is a perfect movie?). There are moments in the middle when it gets a little drawn out, but never for long, and there is always a WOW moment coming soon.
I would like to take this opportunity to warn anyone faint of heart who perhaps has not seen a Tarantino film or is living under a rock that this may not be the best introduction to his oeuvre. That is, unless you enjoy watching nazis get scalped. In that case, it may be just the ticket.
Last night, we strolled down to our beloved Living Room Theater for croque monsieurs and bevvies. I enjoyed the seasonal red ale while Tommy had a very potent pomegranate martini. It's rare for Tommy to request extra pomegranate juice, but he did.
We saw the brilliant documentary Food, Inc. Please, please, please go see this movie. Wherever you live, seek out the indie movie theater, and see it ASAP. I thought this was going to be a film to further the vegan agenda, so I went in with trepidation. I am happy to report that I was wrong. It does show some stomach-turning mistreatment of animals in the slaughter factories we so laughingly refer to as "farms," but it also shows the other side--the real honest-to-goodness farmers who are still doing it the old-fashioned way, who have not been bought out or intimidated by the big companies. I found this to be very inspirational, and it was great validation for my spendy shopping habits at the local farmers' market.
They show how food and agriculture has changed drastically over the last fifty years so that our eating habits as a society have been horribly altered. It's no news that fast food, chips and soda are much more affordable these days than fresh fruits and vegetables, even in your local supermarket. Consequently, we are getting fat and unhealthy. Big surprise, right? Well, what WAS a surprise to me is that we truly CAN do something about it.
In the film, they document how Wal-Mart took the initiative to put organics into their grocery aisles and get rid of milk from rBGT-enhanced cows. While Wal-Mart may not be your idea of a healthy food store, their actions put the nail in the coffin of dairy farms using rBGT on their cattle. That's not to say it doesn't still happen, but consumers are aware now and they are not supporting it on the whole. This was a great example of consumers changing the grocery business. Wal-Mart made these changes because people spoke up.
Huge corporations, a very few in fact, now own the factories that produce all our fattened chickens and cows and our abundant crops of corn and soybeans which are used to produce just about everything we buy. They do not create healthy environments for the animals or the workers or the environment. And, certainly, not for the consumers.
People say, sure, we know, but what can we do about it when McDonald's and Doritos and Coke are all affordable items, and a head of lettuce is more than a combo meal? We, as a society, can change that. It won't be a fast change, or a cheap change; but we can change it by choosing to buy locally, knowing where our food comes from, opting for locally grown in-season fruits and vegetables rather than out-of-season chemically-enhanced foods that have flown thousands of miles. Yes, the food at the farmers' market is more expensive than that at Ralph's; but have you tasted it? The difference in flavor and quality is huge! We are lucky enough to have a great local market just around the corner every Thursday, and I am going to be heartbroken when it goes away next month. The peaches, the berries, the lettuce, tomatoes, apples, all taste so much better than what we get in the supermarket. And we are supporting local growers. That food arrives on a truck from a farm just outside of town, not flown in from South America where the workers undoubtedly are not being compensated or cared for properly.
I could go on and on, but I could never get the message across as effectively as Food, Inc. does it. Please go see it. But I suggest eating beforehand.
Now, on to other talented artists. T and I went to see Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds last week, and I was hooked from the first scene. Why this movie was not on the top of my priority list the minute it came out I'll never know. Tarantino has yet to let me down. Now, some people may not like talky films; and, if this applies to you, by all means, stay away. The first scene could be thirty minutes long for all I know because the characters talk and talk and talk. But the talking is soooo good. The scene had me a nervous wreck right from the get-go. I think I devoured most of my fingernails in that first act. The rest were gone by the final act.
It is not a perfect movie (but what is a perfect movie?). There are moments in the middle when it gets a little drawn out, but never for long, and there is always a WOW moment coming soon.
I would like to take this opportunity to warn anyone faint of heart who perhaps has not seen a Tarantino film or is living under a rock that this may not be the best introduction to his oeuvre. That is, unless you enjoy watching nazis get scalped. In that case, it may be just the ticket.
Last night, we strolled down to our beloved Living Room Theater for croque monsieurs and bevvies. I enjoyed the seasonal red ale while Tommy had a very potent pomegranate martini. It's rare for Tommy to request extra pomegranate juice, but he did.
We saw the brilliant documentary Food, Inc. Please, please, please go see this movie. Wherever you live, seek out the indie movie theater, and see it ASAP. I thought this was going to be a film to further the vegan agenda, so I went in with trepidation. I am happy to report that I was wrong. It does show some stomach-turning mistreatment of animals in the slaughter factories we so laughingly refer to as "farms," but it also shows the other side--the real honest-to-goodness farmers who are still doing it the old-fashioned way, who have not been bought out or intimidated by the big companies. I found this to be very inspirational, and it was great validation for my spendy shopping habits at the local farmers' market.
They show how food and agriculture has changed drastically over the last fifty years so that our eating habits as a society have been horribly altered. It's no news that fast food, chips and soda are much more affordable these days than fresh fruits and vegetables, even in your local supermarket. Consequently, we are getting fat and unhealthy. Big surprise, right? Well, what WAS a surprise to me is that we truly CAN do something about it.
In the film, they document how Wal-Mart took the initiative to put organics into their grocery aisles and get rid of milk from rBGT-enhanced cows. While Wal-Mart may not be your idea of a healthy food store, their actions put the nail in the coffin of dairy farms using rBGT on their cattle. That's not to say it doesn't still happen, but consumers are aware now and they are not supporting it on the whole. This was a great example of consumers changing the grocery business. Wal-Mart made these changes because people spoke up.
Huge corporations, a very few in fact, now own the factories that produce all our fattened chickens and cows and our abundant crops of corn and soybeans which are used to produce just about everything we buy. They do not create healthy environments for the animals or the workers or the environment. And, certainly, not for the consumers.
People say, sure, we know, but what can we do about it when McDonald's and Doritos and Coke are all affordable items, and a head of lettuce is more than a combo meal? We, as a society, can change that. It won't be a fast change, or a cheap change; but we can change it by choosing to buy locally, knowing where our food comes from, opting for locally grown in-season fruits and vegetables rather than out-of-season chemically-enhanced foods that have flown thousands of miles. Yes, the food at the farmers' market is more expensive than that at Ralph's; but have you tasted it? The difference in flavor and quality is huge! We are lucky enough to have a great local market just around the corner every Thursday, and I am going to be heartbroken when it goes away next month. The peaches, the berries, the lettuce, tomatoes, apples, all taste so much better than what we get in the supermarket. And we are supporting local growers. That food arrives on a truck from a farm just outside of town, not flown in from South America where the workers undoubtedly are not being compensated or cared for properly.
I could go on and on, but I could never get the message across as effectively as Food, Inc. does it. Please go see it. But I suggest eating beforehand.
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