A Literary Moment

I just realized that last year was the 10th anniversary of Harry Potter and the Socerer's Stone...the book, not the movie. Which means, since I was under a rock last spring, that said book has been out in the world now for 11 years.

It just doesn't seem that long ago...until I remember the little 5 year old who snuggled next to me as I read it to her....until I remember that it was 3rd grade when she made the world's most amazing diorama of the same book, by which time the first movie had been released.

And say what you will, the Harry Potter books were the first things that made my dyslexic kid care about reading to herself. For that I will always bless the name of JK Rowling.

Now What Am I Going to Do?

As planned, The Child and I set off first thing yesterday morning to get our copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Her plans for the day had changed as The Boyfriend had invited her to the Bite of Seattle (like the Taste of Chicago, only with rain). And real boyfriends apparently trump literary heroes when you are 13. But we had time between getting the books and when she was supposed to meet him so she suggested that we get coffee somewhere and start reading. Which we did.

Only as soon as we sat down she was all "What time is it?" and "Shouldn't we go soon? and generally interrupting my reading so I deposited her with Boyfriend, came home, settled myself in and started to read.

I read and read. I ate some grapes. I read and read and read. I took a 2 hour nap. I read and read and read and read and had hamburgers with The Spouse. And then I read and read and kept reading until I thought, "Golly, it's midnight. I can finish this tomorrow" and just then I read something that made me say, "Golly, I've got to finish this now". So I did.

"And now you have nothing to look forward to ever again," smiled The Spouse this morning.

Of course, he's kinda right. I remember, for example, when I discovered the Lord Peter mysteries by Dorothy L. Sayers. I'm not even that much a fan of murder mysteries. But I liked the character of Lord Peter, a lot, and especially his odd romance with Harriet Vane, so I read them, more for the wit and the intrigue and the descriptions of food than for the mystery stuff. And then, one day I read the last book. And there weren't ever going to be anymore. (Actually, there was. A few years ago someone took the manuscript Sayers was working on when she died and fashioned it into one last Lord Peter story. It was OK).

And sure, you can re-read the books (and I do) and mine new things out of them and revisit the bits you really love and that's all good. But still, that first realization that there's no more to come is a little sad.

So I felt a little sad early this morning, when I closed the cover on HPVII. JK Rowling took us on a wicked good ride. It's been known that she's known all along how the saga would end and the best way to describe the ending of the final book is "fitting". It's not so much that she tidies everything up, although I suppose she does. Blanks are filled in. Questions are answered. And it is, in the style of all good epics, a matter of character determining destiny. But it is not pulled together in a way that is pat or dismissive. And I'm obviously just dying here because I'm desperate to talk to someone about it and no one I know has finished the book yet! So if one of you could get on that, please, I'd really appreciate it.

I was right about some stuff and partially right about some stuff and wrong about a few things. All of which I can live with. And what you've heard is true. Quite a lot of dying in this one. Tons of action, some snogging (not as much as in 5 and 6 but apparently adolescents don't think so much about snogging when their lives are in mortal danger).

And once again, I must give Ms. Rowling her props. This mega-franchise which has spawned from her work could have been the death of that work. But despite the astonishing success, the millions and millions of dollars, the movies, the products that could fill a thousand Hogwarts Castles, somehow she has managed to always keep it about the books. And each story has been better than the last, her style more confident, the characters more complex. She could have been phoning in these last few books and they would no doubt still have been best-sellers. But she didn't then and she hasn't now.

I haven't decided yet if the 7th will stand as my favorite of the series. But it's a bloody good book. I'm just sorry it's done.

Mind Like a Sieve and I Don't Mean a Pensieve

I have to start doing more crossword puzzles or something.

There are those, and I do not care for most of them, who say that forgetfulness is just a part of aging blah blah blah and one must make ones peace with it blah blah blah Ican'thearyou.

I'm not old. I'm older than I was but I am hardly ready for the home. And I firmly believe that once you start living in that "I'm old" place in your head that's when you begin to be old. In fact, I have friends who are younger than me who do that "getting older" thing and they are beginning to bore me. So take it as writ, I'm not getting older, I'm ripening like a fine Bordeaux; and be warned: don't ever call me an old lady. (Unless it's a Grateful Dead theme party and I'm, like, your old lady). In fact, when I'm in my 80s or 90s or 00s (could happen) do not call me an old lady. I'll smack you with my cane.

All that said, I find that things are slipping out of the back of my head lately. I've always been a bit like that anyway but,for example, it took me about 15 minutes last night to recall Phil Hartman's name. I could see his face, hear his voice, list his acting credits and I couldn't think of his name. It was cold comfort that neither could The Spouse. (It did eventually occur to us via a rather amusing tag team effort and IMdb was not involved so that was a triumph).

More to the point, I know there was something I wanted to blog about today and I'll be dipped if I can think what it is. I have got to start writing this stuff down and then all I'll have to do is remember where I left the note.

---

The Child is baking scones. After I eat one I'm going to go grocery shopping, laying in easily prepared supplies against the next few days when I have no intention of doing anything but reading Harry Potter.

The Child and I had an intensive discussion yesterday about what we think is going to happen. I have some very strong theories, which I'll not posit here but it's to do with jealousy, betrayal, redemption and Harry being protected yet again by the pure sacrifice of someone dear to him. Further, I don't think any of the girls are going to die but that doesn't mean they're going to have a swell time. And I still don't think Dumbledore is really dead nor do I believe that Snape is really a bad guy. (The Child thinks that's totally nuts).

I really can't wait to get my hands on that book. I'm so serious.

The scones are done. Mercy. I don't like cold scones but when they are like this, still hot from the oven, butter melting and grape jelly oozing. Superfantastic.

I'll be back when I'm done with Harry. Should be by Monday, as per usual. Have a great weekend.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

I've been having very sophisticated conversations with very young people about movie making. Children who have read the Harry Potter books, at least the children I know, possess an encyclopedic and completely geeky knowledge of every detail and nuance in every book. They are wedded to their vision of the story. So interestingly, while they eagerly await the premiere of each new HP movie and enjoy themselves while watching, they leave pulling it apart, complaining of all that was left out, glossed over or otherwise abandoned.

I have been trying to explain to these little aficionados that it is simply not possible to render a book, especially one that is 800 some pages, as a film and transfer it word for word to the big screen. A screenwriter simply must make decisions, leave out chunks that don't necessarily advance the main plot of the book (e.g. Hermione's campaign to free house elves in the 4th book/movie), and find ways to allude to certain relationships or events so as to make the final cut less than 412 hours long.

They don't get it. Which is fine. Because it's actually pretty wonderful that they have such devotion to the series and pay attention. And of course, it doesn't bother me that everything from the books is not in the films. I've said before that the movies can stand as cinematic works in their own right, even if one hasn't read the books. (And as I've said before, why you wouldn't read the books is beyond me but to each his or her own).

That's all still true. But I left "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" feeling let down.

There are still many things right with the film. As with all the other films, there is a faithfulness to the spirit and general direction of the stories. (I think Ms. Rowling has a large say in that matter).

The casting continues to be spot on. Imelda Staunton is new to this film, as the very awful Dolores Umbrage, who operating with a veneer of sweetness, worms her way into Hogwarts at the bidding of the very paranoid Minister of Magic and slowly creates a near totalitarian state at the school. She was perhaps more comical in the film than she should have been, but when she gets her evil on, it's creepy evil.

Regulars Maggie Smith, Ralph Fiennes, Jason Isaacs (be still my heart), Emma Thompson, Robbie Coltrane and Alan Rickman (heart, I told you to be still) all make their appearances. And kudos to them all for taking the "no small parts, only small actors" attitude. Because Emma Thompson, for example, has about 6 lines, most of which are of the "uh, uh, sniffle, um" variety. But the fact that the cast has not changed since the beginning (except, of course, Dumbledore) is one of the things that makes the series so strong. Continuity is a good thing.

Speaking of which, props go out to the kids-who-are-no-longer-kids, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson and Daniel Radcliffe. They are growing up nicely and their acting skills have improved with every film. I also applaud their commitment to see the films through, even though there could be a downside to that career-wise. At this point, no one but those 3 could be Ron, Hermione and Harry.

And Mr. Radcliffe, who we all know is becoming quite a handsome young man, has also developed rather fine acting chops; revisit the first film if you don't believe me. More and more is being required of him in these movies and he delivers.

The creation of the magic world continues to amaze. I know they do all that stuff with computers but golly. Walls that appear and disappear and stairs that move and magical creatures...it's all too fabulous and perfect. Well, except for one thing. The terrifying, soul-sucking dementors, who make their first appearance in the 3rd book, were rendered in perfectly meme-like fashion in the 3rd movie. "That's exactly how I pictured them!" was the consensus. For reasons known only to themselves, the crew for this film changed the look of the dementors. Not only do they not look like dementors, it seems to me that once something has been established in a franchise like this, you don't mess with it. The Great Hall has looked the same through every film, the uniforms haven't changed...it was wrong.

Yes, I enjoyed the film well enough but there were glaring mistakes; or if that's too harsh a phrase, missed opportunities in this film. No. Upon consideration, I'm sticking with "glaring mistakes".

The fifth book is where the story begins to turn. In the first place, Harry is a full-on teen-ager with all the angst and "I hate everybody and everybody hates me" stuff that goes with that. His adolescent angst is palpable in the book, so much so that you eventually, as an adult, are ready to climb through the pages and smack him one. (And I suspect, if you are a teenager you read it going, "Dude. Totally. Grownups suck").

All that is missing from "Order of the Phoenix". There's a mere hint of it when Harry first hooks up again with Ron and Hermione but then he's over it. And a scene wherein he expresses some of his anger, etc. to his god-father Sirius (played by Gary Oldman. My poor little heart), it comes off as being connected to the whole Voldemort thing, making his internal conflicts more lofty and even something outside of himself. The truth is, it is his anger and arrogance and generally smelling of teen spirit that informs a lot of what happens in the 5th book. Which is way more honest, in my view. That whole "I'm just Harry" thing is a part of the story. He's got a destiny and more and more of that unfolds with each book. But this is literature with a classical point of view: his character is going to dictate his destiny. So his weaknesses, and what he does about them, are as important to the story as his strengths.

Second, the return of the darkest of dark wizards, Lord Voldemort, at the end of book/movie #4 doesn't just mean that there are going to be little skirmishes between good and evil. War is on the horizon. There is a profound tension in the book that is simply missing from this film. There is a sense of dark pushing back strong against the light, the realization that it could take more than is available to win against the darkness, particularly because the Ministry of Magic has decided to deny the return of Voldemort, make Harry and Dumbledore seem like nutters and sugar coat information to the people, even as they begin to employ the politics of fear in a bid to consolidate power. That story is present in the film, but somehow lacking all the visceral power that the injustice and frustration evokes in the book.

In fact, come to think of it, there is a general glossing over of the "Order of the Phoenix", what it is, the resistance movement it represents, the political tensions within that organization. And, in what I personally found to be a complete outrage, the character of Tonks is in the movie but not even once called Tonks, let alone allowed to play her very delightful role in the story. And that last bit is just a personal disappointment but still.

Finally, there is something very important relative to "the prophecy" that is left out all together. If things happen in the 7th book as I suspect they will, that could pose some interesting complications for the last two films. It so wouldn't have been a big deal to include that information and in fact, would have made for a more dramatic ending...just as the revelation did in the book. I kinda want to slap whoever decided that the Longbottom stuff was inconsequential. Puleeze.

The Child pointed out that there have been almost as many directors for this film series as there have been Dark Arts teachers at Hogwarts. More to the point, a little IMdb research provides a explanation for the slapping urge noted in the last paragraph. While the directors have changed, the screenplay has been done by the same guy in all of the films...except #5.

Ah ha!

Steve Kloves of 1, 2, 3, 4 and also 6, which is now in production, obviously has a sense not just of the books but of the continuity between them. New Guy, who I'm going to ignore, didn't do a horrible job but it was, in the final analysis, a sloppy job. There. I said it.

Hopefully Mr. Kloves has picked up the loose threads and pulled things back together. Because the fact is, the end is near. The seventh and last book is out on Saturday and by this time next week, all the world is going to know how this epic story ends. That will necessarily inform how fans view the 6th movie.

I did not hate this film. It was not a waste of money. It's better than #3, not as good #4. But that's alright. 2 more movies to go. I remain hopeful.

The Film Czarina gives "Order of the Phoenix" 3 out of 5 Koihead.

Review Coming Tomorrow

But in the meantime:

Little to Report

The visit from the Best Friend was terrific. Golly, I love that kid.

The thing I have always loved about the two of them together is the effortlessness of their interaction. Even after not seeing each other since last summer, it was as if no time had passed. (Except for the very exciting discovery that The Child is now the taller of the two). They greeted each other with hugs and giggles, then scurried off to look at pictures of boyfriends and giggle some more.

We had burgers for dinner and watched "High School Musical", the two of them whispering back and forth:

"Zach is so cute!"

"You can have him, I'm going to marry Corbin."

tee titter tee

After the movie they disappeared into The Child's room for a raucous hour or two and emerged to share with me the "Harry Potter Rap" that they'd written. Word.

I finally sent them to bed and was amused to find the assorted girl litter strewn through the house: notebook paper scribbled with their names and those of their boyfriends ("Mr. & Mrs. First Love Crushybuns"), facial cleanser and toner in the bathroom, dresses slung over doors.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a bad tummy ache, which persisted throughout the day. No Corpus Christi parade for me. The Spouse went, as he was scheduled to drive van, but the girls stayed with me. I always make pancakes for them but due to my incapacitation they made their own. AND cleaned the kitchen. They kept busily to themselves while I watched Food Network shows and hugged a water bottle, coming in occasionally to check on me. Sweet kids.

The reason BF was in town was to celebrate the recent graduations of an uncle and brother. So she and The Child went off to the brother's party and when The Child returned home around 5, she made me one of her spectacular cheese omelette's.

I feel perfectly well today so there you go. Yesterday felt like a waste in some respects what with missing one of my favorite church liturgies and not having more time with BF and missing out on catching up with her folks at the party. But maybe I needed all that lounging and napping, for emotional as well as physical reasons. There are worst things than an enforced day of rest.

And the Winner Is

It's been a good week for The Child.

They've been celebrating "Literacy Week" at school, with all sorts of fun events. The kids spent May logging the number of minutes they read each day. The Child's class won a pizza party for having the most minutes as a class and she was in a 3-way tie for the top readers. The reward for that accomplishment was having lunch with a real honest-to-goodness author. (Who's name I never did get. Oh well). The Child was tres excited about that.

Each class decorated their classroom door to showcase a particular author. 3 of us from the Parent Association board were the judges. The 7th grade, having read The Hobbit earlier in the year, went for Tolkien, turning their door into a quite fine hobbit hole: very green door, a "brass knob" in the center and all. They then copied the opening sentences into various languages (demonstrating the universal appeal of the book), had a bio of the author and a picture of a hobbit that you could see through the window. Superfantastic.

Today was character day and as you can see, she went as Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter books. (She's not sad in that photo; she's trying to look serious). She called just now to tell me that the class won the door competition (the other judges apparently agreed with moi) and that she also won the prize for best costume in her class.

Sometimes it is really nice to be rewarded for your efforts, no?

Groovy as all that was, she's anticipating an even better weekend. The Best Friend is coming to town for some family celebrations and we get to have her over-night on Saturday. The Best Friend, you'll remember, doesn't live in Seattle anymore so visits are far and few between. When I told The Child she actually started to cry, that's how much she loves and misses BF. The fact that The Spouse and I are terribly, terribly fond of her is just an added bonus.

Plus, The Child will now be highly motivated to clean her room. Score.

I've Got a Problem

Tomorrow is The Child's birthday and I don't have a present for her.

Dame Judi and Sean are probably giving her a gift card to some cool store.

John and ChouChou are giving her 13 $5 bills.

Her godparents are taking us all out for a superfantastic dinner at a superfantastic restaurant AND they want to give her a spa day outing.

I. Got. Nothin'.

She really wants a cell phone but she isn't getting one of those until she needs it. Which she doesn't. Not to mention I'm not shelling out bucks for something that she's going to end up leaving somewhere. Because she will. This is a kid who is still not always remembering to bring home her coat and lunchbox. An iPod is out of the question, for the same reason.

When she was little it was no big deal. A book, a toy, a cute little top...it was easy. Just walk into a shop, swing a dead cat and buy the first thing I hit.

But 13 is a big deal. It requires something more or less memorable. Doesn't it? Of course, I don't remember what I got for my 13th birthday.

She has a watch. Which she never wears. I could give her some nice earrings but she always loses those, too. She has all the Harry Potter paraphernalia a girl could want. She has all the current CDs of all the music she's into. She doesn't need a computer game and Lord knows I don't want to get anything just to be getting it.

So what do I get that will commemorate this auspices occasion, that won't break the bank, that won't just be some "thing" that will sit around in her room until I toss it out in a frenzy of decluttering?

A trip is out. She's going to Chicago this summer and France the summer after.
She's too young to drive and if we ever do give her a car it's going to be because I've upgraded and she can have my old one. She has a bike, she doesn't skateboard or ski. She's got a dog and a cat and we don't have room for a pony. She's still too young for a training tiara.

I'm completely, thoroughly and overwhelmingly stumped.

Illness, Not a Lot

The Child is going to live.

She slept most of the afternoon yesterday and so did I. General headachiness and feelings of bleh abounded. It seemed perfectly reasonable to take it easy now and possibly ward off worse contagion and that's what we did.

Took her to the doctor today to have a tetnus shot as she managed to scamper over a rusty nail on Sunday. That'll learn her not to listen when Mummy says, "Those really aren't the best shoes for playing outside". (Open toed sandals with heels...what was she thinking?)

We just finished watching Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth". She's planning on doing a project on global warming for the school science fair and when I told her about the movie she asked to see it. Just happened to have it at the top of my Netflix queue. If you haven't seen it, you really must. The science is presented in understandable terms, it's amusing and as angry as some of it can make you, it also ends with a very positive "we can turn this around" message full of practical points on how to do so. Highly recommend the film, highly recommend acting on the information presented.

"Why wasn't he our President, Mom?" she asked when it was over. I'm too tired to explain that again.

Time for another preventative nap and then The Child asked if we could pretend that we are Hermione Granger and Ginnie Weasley cleaning up Grimauld Place as a surprise for Harry Potter. Grimauld Place being her room. Whatever works.

Friday Night

Last night The Spouse went to his 30th high school reunion. I didn't go with him, having satisfied that obligation back on his 20th, which also happened to fall on our 5th wedding anniversary. There are few things in life more boring than attending someone else's reunion. Just saying.

The Child and I were all excited to have a Girls Night In. We were going to eat macaroni & cheese, have caramel corn for dessert and watch a chick flick.

"What are we going to watch?" I ask The Child.

"I don't know," she said, perusing the DVDs on the shelf. "Harry Potter?"

"Strictly speaking, Harry Potter is not a chick flick," I said. "Which one?"

"4".

"I could watch Harry Potter 4," I said, "as long as you understand that it is not a chick flick".

"Sure it is," she said, pointing to the cover. "It's a flick. This is a chick," she said, indicating
Emma Watson. Then she pointed to Daniel Radcliffe and said, "And this is a hottie".

I stand corrected.

Summer Reading List

I don't know how substantive this is but I stuffed 500 envelopes in 2 hours. Considering that it was a 1300 piece mailing, I feel pretty good about that. Also met a nice young intern who went to the high school that's at the top of our list for The Child. He was the ASB president and everything. He spoke very highly of the place, which is always a wonderful thing to hear.

School is almost out but The Child already has homework for next year. Her lit. teacher sent home the summer reading list. She has to read 3 books and write 3 reports, due the first day of school.

I read in the summer, all the time. I'd take a book up into an apple tree and sit there for hours reading. Sometimes I'd lay a blanket under the fig tree and read there. (Easier to nap if the urge struck). I can't even think about The Diary of Anne Frank without thinking of that fig tree, the dappled light and the sound of drunken bees providing such a weird contrast to the tense, confining tone of the book. Even now there is a different quality to my summer reading. This is the time of year when I'm most apt to try on a new author, to step it up and read more than the usual book or two a month that seems to be all I can manage.

The Child's experience of books is so different than mine. She literally devoured books as a mere thing, chewing on the edges of what we called her "nibble books". She loved being read to and would sit still for stories for as long as I could stand to read. All the things you're supposed to do to instill a love of reading in your child, we did. She still likes the idea of reading but the reality is that her dyslexia makes it work. I don't know if reading will ever be the pleasure for her that it is for her parents. And that makes me really, really sad.

The reading list itself is rather amazing. Were you reading Frankenstein when you were in the 7th grade? The short stories of Saki? Hell, I just noticed he's got Dracula on here. (She is so not reading that. I read it as an adult and it creeped me out so much I could only read it in the daylight hours). What else? We have everything from Little Women (that is one frackin' boring book. Makes a much better movie), Cry the Beloved Country, The Count of Monte Cristo...ooh! A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. There's The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros...that's a beautiful book and The Old Man and the Sea. Oh, wow...he's got Emma on here. This is quite a list. I've read 25 of the books on this list (I counted) and encountered only 3 of them before high school. Some I didn't get to until after college. I'm impressed. And a little scared. I don't know that she's ready for the next level of fiction...Harry Potter is challenge enough. But that's why there are books on tape. Marvelous invention that. And what is amazing to me is that when she has a book on tape she totally reads along with it...it's not like she just listens. Those tapes help her engage with the literature in a way she isn't capable of on her own. At least not at present.

It's going to be very interesting. She wants to start with Frankenstein so I've order the tapes. We'll see what happens. I admit, though, I'm kind of excited. Maybe this is the start of a whole new experience for her. Her lit. teacher is, himself, dyslexic. And he loves to read. I remain hopeful.

BBQ

The BBQ proceeded as planned and it never actually rained the entire time. Hardy NW souls that we are, we hung out on the deck and everyone ate outside even though it was grey and not precisely balmy. Everytime there was a whisper of blue sky someone, usually The Spouse, would say, "See, it's summer".

The food was great and it wasn't until The Neighbor turned to me and said, "Killer potato salad" that I realized I hadn't made anything except the baked beans. The Spouse, having worshipped yesterday at Our Lady of Perpetual Percale, ended up making the potato salad, coleslaw and whipping up the Trader Joe's brownies. All of which were, by the way, killer.

Some people who were planning on coming totally wimped out because of the rain, big babies weren't able to make it after all but we were pleasantly surprised when our former neighbor and her daugher arrived.

I shall interupt the party report now to sing the praises of the Family C. They used to live on the corner just north of us. Good times: mutual baby sitting service, being within crawling distance of each other's parties, the general fabulousness of calling over the fence and saying, "You guys want a cocktail?" Their daughter was born on my birthday, shortly after they moved in, and The Child immediately acquired the thing she most longed for, a baby sister. The husbands totally got each other (same books, movies, computer geekiness), the wives had plenty in common. It was the Ricardos and the Mertz's. It broke our hearts when they moved north. (That stinking "more house, less money" thing, again).

Note: If The Neighbor ever moves we'll have to collectively throw ourselves off of something.

Other guests included one of The Child's boy toys and his uncle (they'd taken her to the Folklife festival in the afternoon) and one of The Spouse's on-line gaming buddies, who can no longer be referred to as an "imaginary friend" because, well, he's real. And very nice. And also more or less agreed with my theories of what to expect in the 7th Harry Potter book.

Anyway, it was big fun, the food was great, I hardly had to do anything except hang with guests (which is what a hostess is supposed to do) and everyone cleared out in time for The Spouse and I to watch one episode of "Battlestar Gallactica". (JP, that really is a compelling bit of entertainment. Thank you).

Today began with significant sleeping in and will largely be composed of nothing in particular. The Child will be making dinner. My kind of national holiday.

6 Degrees of Separation

"Six degrees of separation is the theory that anyone on earth can be connected to any other person on the planet through a chain of acquaintances that has no more than five intermediaries". Thus spake Wikipedia. I've no doubt that this is true.

Allow me to demonstrate. The Spouse used to work in the movie biz. At a cast/crew party I met and spoke, briefly, to the lovely and talented Natasha Richardson. In those few moments I began a chain of connection that gets me pretty much to any and all actors on at least 2 continents.

For example:
Me>Tasha>Liam Neeson
Me>Tasha>Colin Firth (which makes me dizzy with joy)
Me>Tasha>Alan Rickman>all the Harry Potter stars (The Child loves that one).

Never mind that Natasha's mother is Vanessa Redgrave, which puts me 3 degrees from anyone Vanessa has ever known or worked with. Let's put the celebrity factor aside for a moment. Factoring in regular, ordinary people puts me 3 degrees from every hotel clerk, waiter or Palestinian Ms. Redgrave ever met. Which puts me 4 degrees to everyone each of those people ever met.

Here are some more examples:

Me>Tasha>Lindsay Lohan

I've met a cousin of The Neighbor's who went to St. Andrews College and spilled beer on Prince William:
Me>Erica>Wills>Diana.

JM's mom was once hit on by Louis Armstrong:
Me>JM>his mom>Louis>Grace Kelly

Sometimes, in my idle hours, I play this game and marvel at all the people to whom I am connected. And again, those are the ones easily traced through their filmography on the IMDb. All chains of connection we establish through our lives would be equally fascinating, were we able to trace them. What are the links that follow from me to the guy who checked my groceries this morning? Who does he know? It really is a very small world.

And that is why the NSA is getting in on the fun. They aren't accessing our phone records because they want to know about us. No, you silly rabbits, they just want to know everyone we've ever talked to so they can determine whether one of those people talked to someone who talked to someone else who talked to someone in, let's say, al Qaeda. It's a benign game of 6 degrees of separation so let's all just relax.

Here's a fun one: Me>John Kerry>George W. Bush. What is great about that is it gets me 3 degrees to Stephen Colbert and only 4 to Jon Stewart. No, wait, Kerry's been on The Daily Show. Jon Stewart in 3.

And my Bacon number? It's 3.
Me>Spouse>Keifer Sutherland>Kevin Bacon

Your turn.

Just Another Manic Monday

By now you know that my favorite day is one with nothing much in it. I like getting home from the school drop-off to have the hours spreading before me, free of all obligations but a quick tidy of the house and writing. Today isn't going to be like that.

My dear friend Stina's grandmother died last week and the funeral is today. I didn't know Nanay but I have to go for Stina. Not that she'll notice. As the oldest grandchild all the arrangements have fallen to her while her dad and his sibs have spent the week not coping with their grief and being generally dysfunctional. Stina hasn't had any time to grieve because she's been scheduling rosaries, finding ministers for the mass (it's not taking place at our church - which would have made her life much easier), dealing with the funeral home, planning eulogies, prayers and the "dead spread" for afterwards. Poor darling called me on Friday because "You're the only person I can think of who doesn't want anything from me". I hope I'll get at least 2 minutes with her at the reception but given that half of the Philippines is coming to the funeral, it doesn't look good.

This evening I'm babysitting for some neighbors so they can go to a Purim celebration. I am hoping to be amply paid in hamantaschen...which are fabulous little triangular cookies (to resemble the shape of Haman's hat). They are usually filled with some sort of jammy concoction or poppyseeds. Yum. Purim celebrates how Queen Esther saved the Jews from the evil conspirings of Haman. It's a great story about how a beautiful woman did all the heavy lifting for a people. Go read it.

In between these two events I have other things to do. The Child has been congested and snorky for months and this morning woke up complaining of a sore throat. I'm sure it's just the consequence of post-nasal drip but something must be done. Of course, her solution was to stay home. But as this condition did not prohibit her from playing volleyball yesterday (still undeafeated), hanging with the M Street Gang nor watching and then discussing endlessly the special features on the Harry Potter 4 disc, she went to school. She fought valiently, to the point of planting her face, on purpose, in a pool of berry sauce I'd made for her pancakes. What gets into these young people?

I need to make pie crust for tonight's quiche (we'll be eating in shifts, what with my babysitting gig and The Child having volleyball practise), pungle some bills and tidy up a manuscript. I need to dust and beribbon 40 lanterns for the school auction this weekend, make some calls and possibly color my hair.

Finally, I have to find out if the Archbishop has issued a dispensation for Friday. In years past, when St. Patrick's day has fallen on a Friday in Lent, we have received a by on the "no meat" thing so we can have the traditional corned beef. But if he doesn't then we'll be celebrating with colcannon. Or maybe a scallop and mushroom pie. Actually, that sounds pretty tempting...

Update: She's Still my Little Girl

The Child turned down the play invitation after all. She said it was because she wanted to "watch Harry Potter with my mommy and daddy".

How much longer is it going to be that she prefers being with us to going out on a Friday night?


Ok. It probably has more to do with Harry Potter than it does with us. But still.

"You're a Wizard, Harry".

There was only one bit of drama in our house this week, having to do with "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire".

The second we knew the release date of the DVD, The Spouse pledged to pick it up at the warehouse. (Have I mentioned he works for Costco Corporate?) He came home with it Tuesday night. Prior to its purchase we had many family discussions about how excited we were to watch it tonight, as Friday is our standing "dinner and a movie at home" night.

The Child nigh unto attacked her father when he came home Tuesday and, cut-up that he is, he first feigned no knowledge of said DVD. Drama. Then, ha ha ha, he pulls it out. She wants to watch it then and there. But no, we're saving it for Friday, remember? Mild drama and a pretty please, may I just watch the special features? This was granted but when an hour later The Spouse caught her starting up the actual film he confiscated it. Drama.

Allow me to note that the Harry Potter franchise has been a god-send to our family. Specifically, it has inspired our dyslexic daughter, the one who'd rather eat a sprouts & liver pudding than read, to pick up a book. More precisely, pick up 6 books. What few "Sylvan moments" we've enjoyed have been granted by Harry Potter. Furthermore, the character of Hermione Granger has been an inspiration to The Child. She is not and likely never will be the academician that Hermione is, but when she needs to focus on a piece of work, especially in a subject she doesn't enjoy, she pretends she's Hermione and she gets it done. Her handwriting, which is naturally abysmal, is nearly perfect when she determines to "write like Hermione". Finally, we have had many fine conversations about sex, death, moral choices and perserverance because of things she's read in the books. They make her think. In short, I owe a big "thank you" and possibly a shrine, to JK Rowling for what her books have given our child. (The fact that we enjoy reading them as well is icing on the cake).

Last night, having finished all her homework, she wanted to watch the special features again. But The Spouse had hidden the disc. (He really, really wants us all to watch it together, knowing she'll watch it every day for a week once we do). I didn't know where it was. Major drama. Tears and mournful expressions drama. To the point that I threaten to return the bloody thing if she doesn't stop. Which she does. She contents herself with watching interviews from the 3rd movie and goes to bed saying that she absolutely cannot wait until tonight.

This morning I retrieved a message from her friend, Alan, who was inviting her to go to a play tonight. I told her when she woke up, adding, that, of course, we have plans tonight. She says, "Yes" then pauses for a moment. "Of course, we could always watch it tomorrow night".

So she's going out and The Spouse and I are going to watch "A Very Long Engagement" which we have had from Netflix for a very long time.

"I Don't Even Want to Quit You, Oscar".

For the second or third year running, I will be watching the Oscars having not seen a single film nominated in a major category. Not even "Wallace and Grommit". Unless Harry Potter 4 is in the "Best Movie Franchise Ever" category, my familiarity with any of the honored films is based on how often I saw commercials for it during "Gilmore girls".

I love the movies, I just don't go to the theater that much anymore. We operate by a "big screen" methodology and frankly, the screen at home and the surround-sound that go with it has begun to seriously cut into what we consider a "big screen film". Briefly, though, explosions are usually involved, Colin Firth is not. I don't have to be the first one on the block to see a film and am almost always content to wait until it comes out on DVD. Which it will soon enough. And that is why God created Netflix.

Much pre-Oscar jabbering can be summed up thusly: movie theater attendance is down, none of the nominated films were "blockbusters" (because merely recouping production costs and turning a profit isn't a real "success" by Hollywood standards) and the big pictures this year are all super political. Which surprises me as I don't think of Johnny and June Cash as activists. Guess I'll understand when I finally see "Walk the Line". Oh, and because of all this and other related conditions, no one is going to watch the Oscars tonight.

But I'll be there. I love Oscar night. I will manage to get excited even though I have no feelings whatsoever about any of the films. We will have the veggie tortilla lasagna I make every year (not glamorous but really yummy). I will fill out the ballot in the newspaper, as will The Spouse, and at some point this evening I will be in the bathroom privately delivering my own Oscar speech to the mirror.

I did a little acting: student body plays from 3rd through 8th grade, chorus for "Finian's Rainbow" freshman year of high school. And junior year I played Annie, the nervous maid in "Life with Father". Not to brag but I owned that part and when, at the end of the year Thespian Troupe 827 held it's annual awards, I walked away with Best Supporting Actress. In college I dated a guy in the drama department.

So I have had occasion to compose my Oscar speech and I know most of you have one, too. In recent years mine has to do with an original or adapted screenplay and I share the honor with Emma Thompson. How this happens, since I don't write fiction or know Emma Thompson, is not the point. Wearing a fabulous gown and remembering to thank The Spouse while trying not to cry, is.

The other buzz tonight is about Jon Stewart as emcee. Do I think he can handle the switch from satiric political commentary to hosting Hollywood's biggest night? Maybe. Will he look fabulous in a tux? Absolutely.

So here are my purely subjectives picks for Oscars:

Best Picture: "Brokeback Mountain"
I just love a good Western.

Best Direction: Ang Lee.
Although to be honest with you, "Sense and Sensibility" put me to sleep (and that's saying something for a Jane Austin fan) so maybe I have to rethink this.

Leading Actor: Heath Ledger.
I've heard that Philip Seymour Hoffman is amazing as Truman Capote but here's the thing: I think there should be two acting categories: one for playing a known character and one for creating a character. Because I don't really think they are the same thing. And I loved Heath in "A Knight's Tale". Where he also kisses a man on the mouth. I'm just saying.

Supporting Actor: George Clooney.
Because I heart him.

Leading Actress: Reese Witherspoon.
Because she is just a cutie patootie and I heart her, too. Also, because Judi Dench seems to get Oscars thrown at her just for showing up at the makeup trailer and I grow weary of that. Not her. Love her. But sheesh, let someone else win for a change.

Supporting Actress: Rachel Weisz.
Because a) she's a cutie patootie and 2) I think her character was supposed to be romantically involved with Ralph Fiennes' character and having to kiss Ralph Fiennes and act like you mean it would take serious acting chops.

Oh, joy. I was just reviewing all the categories. "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" was nominated for Costume Design and "Revenge of the Sith" for Make-up. HA! I've seen those.

Venting

Took a little trip to the edge of insanity last night. The Child was driving. I realize she's "at that age" but for the love of God! Here's a typical exchange:

Me: "How much homework do you have left?

Her: "A few problems of math".

Me: "Do you understand it?" (She's currently flunking math. Her teacher says it's because she doesn't ask for help even though she (the teacher) has set up a stigma-free zone for getting help).

Her: "Yes".

Me: "OK. I have to run an errand (something specifically for her, mind you). Can you be done by the time I get back or do I need to stick around?"

Her: "You can go."

I go. I return. She's playing with The Dog.

Me: "All finished with homework?"

Her: "Almost."

Me: "Almost? What's left?"

Her: "A few problems of math".

And it went like this all night. Whenever she was spoken to she processed it in some convoluted manner which took her 412 miles from where she was supposed to be. She sauntered into dinner last night about 10 minutes after being called for the third time. I suspect it was because she heard "Dinner's ready" and thought, "Mom just called me to dinner. The food is hot. She and Papa are sitting down to eat. Maybe I'll dress for dinner. Yeah, that's it. I'll put on all the cool new clothes Godmom brought me from Europe. I'll look super fantastic and they will think I am so cute". Sure, she was cute and furthermore, her table manners were very precise and grownup. But that is so not the point.

Then there's the whole vicious cycle of not turning off her light when told because she's too engrossed in that damn Harry Potter 6 which means she can't get up when I wake her which means she can't move beyond a snail's pace getting ready which means we're rushing out the door which means she's late to school which means she's scrambling into class behind the bell and not turning in her bloody homework so she's getting "missing assignment" citations for stuff that's in her freaking book bag.

Color me frustrated.

Harry Potter, Memes and a Movie Review

Meme (noun): A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

I have been trying to understand the concept of the meme. What I know for sure is that it rhymes with "dream". I get that, as a gene passes along genetic material, a meme transmits ideas. Or something like that. So I'm wondering if an example of a meme would be the fact that everyone who saw the first Harry Potter film was saying things like, "That is exactly how I pictured Quidditch!"

While I continue to get this concept through my thick skull, I'd like to reflect on the phenomenon of the Harry Potter franchise. It would be easy to be cynical. Something that is hyped this much has to be Paris Hilton, completely devoid of substance. But in the case of the Potter books and films, the emperor is in fact fully clothed.

I have loved all the books, each more than the last. As a writer I hold JK Rowling in complete and utter awe. She could have so phoned in the later books...they would have sold if they'd been half as good as the first. But instead she's shown true artistry and commitment. She is faithful to her characters, her fictive world and her audience. The first book, in fact, pales in comparison with subsequent titles. The sixth book was the best yet. For creating a new series of classics and for doing so with integrity, she deserves to be the richest woman in Great Britain.

The movies, which were inevitable, have followed a similar course. The directors and producers have managed to be faithful to the text, thereby assuring the loyalty and ticket sales of a massive audience. It is hard for me to separate the two but I think the movies stand alone. (Not that you wouldn't want to read the books). And like the books, each movie has gotten better. The little kids have grown into competent actors. The technology of our day allows the magical world of Hogwarts to be realized as fully as an author could hope.

We went to the Columbia City Cinema Friday night to finally catch the latest HP film. "The Goblet of Fire" is a huge story and the screenwriters did an excellent job of cutting out the extraneous bits while capturing all the material that moves the story. So much of the landscape of the next two books is established in "Goblet". First we have the tensions and challenges of being adolescent. Rowling has done a bloody brilliant job at getting inside teenage hormones and angst. The Yule Ball is the catalyst for this with the pressures of getting a date and confronting feelings (Hermione rocks). It is the complication of teen rebellion and relationships which, in subsequent books, both help and hinder the big picture. And the big picture, as "Goblet" makes clear is that being Harry Potter, "the boy who lived", has become a high stakes game.

Several words about casting:

a) I still miss Richard Harris as Dumbledore but it's not Michael Gambon's fault.

b) The regular cast are all pitch perfect (Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman...I mean, come on, who else could play McGonagall and Snape)?

c) As I said, all of the youngsters are really starting to develop some chops and are maturing nicely. (Not to mention that when Daniel Radcliffe took off his shirt to get into the bath there was an audible sigh in the theatre. Which was two-thirds adults).

But d), where the casting folks have shown particular brilliance is in the revolving cast: the likes of Kenneth Branagh, Emma Thompson and Julie Christie playing tasty little parts, making a big impact in a few scenes. "Goblet of Fire" is no exception. Miranda Richardson scores in the juicy part of Rita Skeeter, the epitome of a yellow journalist. Plus, we get Ralph Fiennes, with creepy, snake-like make-up as Lord Voldemort. Who better to play Pure Evil than the guy who nailed "sadistic Nazi" in "Schindler's List"?

One of these days I need to bust a move and go see a "grown up" movie in a theatre. (Although I guess that Netflix and a big screen TV seem to be working well enough). But for my $8 "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" did not disappoint. I can't wait until it's out on DVD.

The Film Czarina gives "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" 4 out of 5 Koihead.

Friday After Turkey

General Observations:

Even if you do regular stuff on the Friday after Thanksgiving (like laundry and book-keeping) it doesn't feel like a regular day.

I am all for education but I think it is w-r-o-n-g to give kids homework over Thanksgiving weekend.

It feels colder when it rains. (I already knew that but seriously, it's freakin' cold right now and wetter than it has been in weeks).

I Really Like:
talking with The Child about grown up and growing up stuff. It's especially great at those times when I'm actually not the dumbest person on the planet.

when The Donald fires the right person. Martha, too.

having enough money to pay all the bills. Even better, I like going through the stack of bills and discovering that half of them aren't due until December.

when you have friends you trust to housesit and then you come home to a house that is just as clean as you left it and maybe even more so.

paying bills on-line. I used to be a real hold-out on that and I still write checks for big stuff like the mortgage because it makes me feel in complete control (even though it's all an illusion) but for sheer ease and convenience, that on-line bill paying thing really works for me.

when my sister remembers to make the cinnamon hard candy that I like. I also think it is really nice that The Spouse remembered to bring some of it home along with the toffee that he likes.

Things I'm Really Looking Forward To:

The Child coming home from her Day o' Fun with Godmom.

The Spouse coming home from his Day o' Work.

Going with aforementioned for pizza and then to the little neighborhood cinema to see (finally) "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire".