Memory Gland: A couple Thanksgivings.

I started my job around six years ago.  I was glad to have it, but I thought I would be doing bigger and better things by now.  I'm still here, which is kind of sad, although I still have a job, which is pretty good.

I was pretty lucky to even get a steady gig in the first place.  I happened to be friends with this guy Ross Asia, who was the roommate of the guy who was leaving the position, who I will call Michael J. Cox.  Ross hadn't even seen any of my work but he recommended me highly to Michael. 

Ross and I were actually more of acquaintances than friends.  On Thanksgiving '98, my friend Rose Asia (no relations, especially since these are fake names) went to visit Ross at his dorm, and she asked me to tag along.  It was just a quick visit, but after that, Ross and I would say hello and sometimes exchange a few words when we would see each other around campus.

So I guess it's good to be nice to everybody because seven years later, that association led me to steady employment.  Michael even said he remembered me, even though we only saw each other that one time.  I don't recall this at all, but he had a camcorder and he's got me on video on that visit.  I'll have to ask him for a copy of it.

Before my job interview, I told Ross that I only knew how to edit on Avid.  He said to tell that boss that I've worked on Final Cut a lot anyway.  So I did.  After my interview, the boss asked me to spend some time with Michael so that he could give his opinion of me.  It was pretty much just a formality with him, and he told the boss he liked the fact that I was asking questions about the job, how to handle clients etc.  The whole time though, I was paying attention to what Michael was doing because I had little idea how Final Cut worked.

I then spent the next few days at the school's editing suites learning the program.  The funny thing was, my professor saw me there one day and approached me.  He said that one of the tutors had to cancel, so he asked if I could teach Final Cut to some students for a couple of sessions.  I'm not sure why, but I said yes.  I taught them all I knew at the time, which was basically setting up your scratch disk and capturing, and I told them that their regular tutor would teach them the rest.

I was pretty much learning on the job when I started in October 2005, but what really impressed my boss was my attitude.  I was good with handling clients and keeping my composure with some of the more difficult ones.  With all my complaints about his managing style and commitment, I'm very grateful that my boss gave me a chance.

In November, a client came in and asked for a sizzle reel.  I had never done one before, not even anything like it in college.  This was right before Thanksgiving, and with the break coming up, I decided to take advantage of the days off and learn how to do it.

So my girlfriend and I decided to make a day of it.  We planned on going to the parade in the morning, but we woke up late.  We saw a few balloons near the end of the route at Madison Square Garden.  We picked up some chili from the Wendy's in front of the Empire State Building and headed to my job at 38th Street.

And that's how we spent Thanksgiving '05.  I was learning PhotoShop and how to incorporate layers in Final Cut, and my girlfriend was on another computer on MySpace.  (Remember MySpace?).  Just the two of us at my new job, and it turned out there wasn't any heat in the building.  It was a cold Thanksgiving that year, probably because we decided to come out to the parade.  The other time we went in 2009, it was freezing also.  All the other years, like this year, were nice and mild when we decided to stay home.

Actually, we weren't always alone there.  Michael J. Cox stopped by to work on a freelance project, but I'll save that story for another day.

My girlfriend and I came back that Friday with a small space heater.  I don't remember if we came back on the Saturday and Sunday.  But that's how we spent that Thanksgiving day, with me trying to get better at my job and my future wife sitting by my side.

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Queue Tips: Herbie Verstenck

There are many things I would have done differently with "The Beaver", directed by Jodie Foster, who should probably just stick to acting.  Firstly, instead of calling him Walter Black, I would have named Mel Gibson's character as Herbie Verstenck.  Also, I wouldn't have picked the director of ambitious projects like "The Passion of the Christ" and "Apocalypto" for fear of being undermined.  However, Forster seems to really like him, based on how she talks about him in the audio commentary.

Secondly, the film starts with Walter being deeply depressed.  He's got a great job and a family, but he's not happy.  So why should I care if the guy is sad?  And why should the filmmakers bother explaining that minor detail?  I don't see any reason why I should root for the character at all, and I don't feel sorry for him.  I was glad when he gets kicked out by his wife Meredith, played by Foster.

There were so many missed opportunities with the introduction of the Beaver.  When Walter finds him in the dumpster, he's just laying there in plain sight.  And then Walter just picks it up.  Why?  I guess, just because.  And he does so right after throwing away some of his belongings, which apparently, had been important enough that they were the things he chose to take when his wife kicked him out.

When the Beaver starts talking, Foster makes sure the audience knows right away that it is Walter moving its mouth and providing the voice.  I think it would have been better to have some ambiguity at first, especially when the film begins with narration by the Beaver's voice.  They could have tried a quirky approach with the puppet seemingly coming to life before revealing that it's Walter controlling it.  Better yet, since this happens after a television falls on his head after a failed suicide attempt, just have Walter conversing with himself in different voices, and then cut to a wider shot where you see him animating the puppet.

When Meredith comes home to find Walter with their young son Henry, they could have showed the audience how great a father Walter could be as the two of them play with and talk to the Beaver.  As his wife, Meredith may be concerned that Walter has returned, but we see her being happy for their son.  And then it becomes apparent her husband is using the Beaver for more than just play, which confirms to her that he really is nuts.

Ditto for when their teenage son Porter comes home.

As for Porter, he gets approached by the popular, beautiful and smart Norah to write her graduation speech for her.  Now, she is a 4.0 student, yet she can't muster enough effort come up with something on her own.  Gee, I wonder if the two of them will end up together in the end.  Maybe she only wanted an excuse to get to know him.  Even then, it still seems ludicrous that she wouldn't come up with something else to say to him other than the fact that he's just really good at it.

It would have been more interesting if she had just been so busy with so many other things that she just didn't want to bother with the speech.  Maybe she didn't seek him out and hand him a note to rendezvous, but instead casually asked him if he would be interested.  And maybe he bugs her because he needs to get to know her to ghost write properly.  Instead, it's just like, "Hey, write my paper."  "Okay.  But I need to get to know you."  "Okay.  Come to my house and I'll reveal all my family secrets even though that probably won't be pertinent to a graduation speech that will be delivered in front of everybody at the high school."  "Okay."

And then one day Walter comes to work with a talking beaver puppet.  And everybody there is dumbfounded, confused.  Even though it is a freaking toy company.  And Walter is the boss.  So the boss of a toy company comes in with a talking beaver puppet, and the underlings are judgemental instead of curious, interested, amused.

Walter hands out cards to everyone explaining why he talks to his beaver.  So the guy who has just tried to kill himself apparently cares enough about other people's opinion that the types up index cards to explain his behavior.

So much about this film seems to rely on the simple premise of a guy talking to his beaver.  There's not much else apart from that.  The Beaver itself doesn't exactly have a lot of personality either.  It speaks in cockney, for some reason.  But accent alone is not character.

Beavers are mammals who surround themselves in water for safety.  They constantly build and rebuild their homes.  They seem to always be working.  They are monogamous.  "Beaver" is also slang for vagina, as I'm sure you already know.  A vagina is a pussy, which is a derogatory term for a coward. 
For a story about a man struggling with his homelife and his career, the filmmakers failed to make a lot of these connections.

Producer Steve Golin was involved with "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and "Being John Malkovich".  I find that very interesting because I wonder what Michel Gondry or Spike Jonze could have done with this story, not that it was a great screenplay to begin with.  Apparently, Steve Carrell and Jim Carrey were considered for the role of Walter, but I don't know if that would have made a big difference if it had been either of them instead of Gibson.  According to Wikipedia:

The film's director Foster opined that the film did not do well with American audiences because it was a comedy-drama and “And very often Americans are not comfortable with (that).”

I would say that the film did not do well because it was intended to be a comedy-drama and Jodie Foster is not exactly comfortable with that, despite what she might think.  When I think of comedy, Jodie Foster is not the first name that comes to mind.  She mentions in the commentary that there was an earlier draft of the script which was of a funnier tone, but they cut out some parts of it.  Time and again, she keeps mentioning editing out some of the more comic elements.  It's amazing how one can lose focus.  They probably kept chipping away and chipping away at a screenplay they initially loved until it became what it is.

There are many who would hear the term "beaver" and immediately chuckle and laugh, but the film "The Beaver" is really not very funny.

I don't recommend putting this on your queue if you are looking for laughs.  Instead, watch "Unhappily Ever After", a sit-com about a nutty dad who lives with a talking bunny.  It's not available on Netflix (another reason to unsubscribe), but you can probably find episodes on YouTube.  Also, Nikki Cox is in it.

In conclusion, forget "The Beaver" and get some Cox.


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Commuter Illiterate: Premature evacuation.

I generally like it when passengers get off the train.  It leaves more space for the rest of the riders.  It is especially beneficial when the alighting patron happens to be seated.  It gives another person a chance to get off their feet.

What I don't like is when, halfway through to the next station, a passenger decides that it is now the proper time for them to arise.  So when you have a packed train car, the standing patrons end up with even less room because someone is too impatient to wait until the train actually arrives before standing up.  So you end up with uncomfortable people put in even more awkward position, and all the while there is an empty seat right in front of them.

Sometimes the passengers get to witness a funny little dance as one of the standees make their way to the empty seat as the other arises.  Or sometimes two will approach at the same time, and either one is too quick for the other, or one will yield realizing the other wanted it as well.  Sometimes no one will take it and after a moment, someone will look around to the left, then to the right, and if the coast is apparently clear, take the seat.

But why do people get up so quickly sometimes?  It could be paranoia, some kind of fear that the train doors will open and close before they can exit.  I've never actually seen that happen though.  And most instances of premature evacuation that I witness occur during rush hour, a time when most of the riders are daily commuters, so most of them must know that there should be enough time for you to get out.

The best guess as to the reason would really be impatience.  I see this at the end of the line, at 33rd Street in the morning or at Journal Square in the afternoon.  It's a pretty good assumption that everyone will be let out, yet by the time the train approaches the station, almost everybody is on their feet and crowding around the doors.

Impatience.  It's the same reason why people can't wait to let other people off before entering the car.  Then they go for a mad dash to the empty seats.  And then halfway to their stations, they just end up abandoning their seats anyway.


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Commuter Illiterate: Conduct yourself.

Not only does the PATH train have signal problems on the tracks sometimes, but even when they are running smoothly, there can still be communication issues.  What do I mean by this?  Well, the conductors making announcements can sometimes send mixed messages.

On one day, the train gets to a station and as the riders get on, the conductor will say, "There is another train right behind us."  Or, "There will be another train in five minutes."  In other words, stop trying to board the train.

But then on another day, the conductor will say, "Step all the way into the train."  In other words, keep pushing forward.  Keep packing them in.

In the first instance, a train comes to the station packed.  A passenger can wait for the next train.  But then that next train could be just as packed, and you just might hear the same message again.  Or the train doesn't actually get there in five minutes.

In the second scenario, a train comes to the station and the conductor basically insists that there is plenty of space.  He announces to the ones already on board to step in, and it encourages the ones outside to move in.  That's fine if there actually is room.  But on many occasions, it's already packed to capacity but more and more people keep coming because the conductor leads them to believe there is more space.

So when conductors make these announcements, how do they decide?  Unless they are walking from one end of the train to another, they don't know the situations in each car.  Are they following orders from a dispatcher?  Is there someone who's aware of the big picture?  Most likely not.

Here is an example to illustrate how unaware the conductors could be.  One morning at Journal Square, which is the starting point of the route, the train pulls up and only the first three cars' doors open.  Those are boarded while the rest of us at the other cars are standing by the closed doors, waiting for them to open.  After a few minutes, all the doors close and the train prepares to pull out.

Collectively, we all go, "Huh?"  And then the conductor makes this announcement, "Please step back from the edge of the platform."  For our safety, of course.  Never mind the fact that you were the ones who put us in danger in the first place by never opening the doors and having the train move.

Nobody's perfect of course, but it's amazing that this conductor never put two and two together.  The train is departing, yet the station is still crowded, so much so that he is compelled to make an announcement.  The light bulb never went off over his head.

This is why I don't like these announcements.  When conductors insinuate that there is either enough room or not enough room, they probably mean well, but they are not speaking for themselves.  Riders will generally make room when there is space.  And riders will generally wait for the next one only if they feel like it, regardless of whether there's an announcement about another train being immediately behind.



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Queue Tips: Winning

When I first saw the internet ads for "Win Win", I thought it was another one of those teen movies because it shows Paul Giamatti and a teenage boy sitting by the bleachers.  So I expected it to be more like "Superbad" or "Sex Drive" or "Adventureland" or "Charlie Bartlett", and so on and so forth.  It actually turned out to be pretty different.

When I found out Thomas McCarthy was the director, I immediately put it on the queue.  The film shares some of the same themes from his previous movies, specifically about seemingly unlikely friendships.  However, "Win Win" has a lighter mood than "The Station Agent" or "The Visitor". 

There are some silly moments and some punch lines that the first two films didn't really have.  Overall, though, it has the same McCarthy feel, like a foreign film set in America.  Thomas employs the same cinematographer (Oliver Bokelberg) and editor (Tom McArdle).

I guess it's true what they say.  Don't judge a film by its poster.  Actually, wait.  Shouldn't you judge a film by the poster, and a book by its cover?  Aren't the outsides of these things designed to be representative of the content?  Don't they pay people for that?


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Memory Gland: Thirty years ago.

Thirty years ago, I turned two years old.  Now, I'm a father of a two-year-old.  That's just crazy.


The only memories I have from that time period can be triggered by the handful of pictures that I have from then.  Meanwhile, I have thousands of pictures of my kid now, as well as dozens of hours of video.  He watches himself on DVD sometimes and smiles heartily when he sees himself having fun.

We didn't have many pictures growing up.  I guess processing and developing film was costly.  In fact, it's possible we didn't even have a camera and that we only borrowed it on special occasions.  Perhaps our earliest family picture was taken at a photo studio when I was about two years old, according to the scribbled note on the back of the print.  There is also a solo of me picture of me wearing my best outfit.

It was probably my only outfit, actually.  There's another picture of me in it when apparently my aunt's family came to visit.  That must have been the reason why it was deemed a picture-taking occasion.  There was one of me, my two brothers and our cousin together.  And then there's another one of just me and her, being that we were about the same age.  She had on her beautiful white dress, and I had my polo shirt, a pair of pants with a cat stylishly stitched in front.  I had my one hand on the buttons of my shirt because I wasn't used to wearing them.

And shoes.  It was definitely a special occasion if I was wearing shoes.  I seldom wore them as a child.  I always wore slippers, sometimes even when our grade school teachers scolded us for not being properly dressed.  My son, meanwhile, is on his fifth pair already.  At least.  It could actually be around the seventh or tenth pair, actually.  Kids' feet grow so fast.

I probably ran around naked most of the time.  As a matter of fact, there is a picture of me without a shirt and another without pants.  As for my son, he changes clothes before bedtime and in the morning before daycare.  And then he changes clothes again if he get dirty or wet.

One of the memories that I recall from the picture with my cousin is that I was preoccupied with a couple of toy cars at the time.  My guess would be that my aunt and uncle brought it as a present.  They were plastic cars.  One was white and one was black.  I remember staring at the ground looking at them as we were standing in place.

I didn't have a lot of toys.  I always had playmates because I had dozens of cousins.  Literally.  On both sides.  Not only was the Philippines a Roman Catholic country, where abortion is illegal and condoms are sinful, it also was agrarian, which means more offspring meant more workers for the farm.  But I digress. 

The point is, I grew up around a large family.  We lived in a surrounded compound where I could wander from our house all the way at the back of the property, past my uncle's house and to my grandmother's house in the front.  Relatives were everywhere.

My wife's family is in Hawaii and mine is in the Philippines.  It's pretty much just the three of us in our one bedroom apartment.  My son doesn't see other kids outside of daycare.  He doesn't like encountering kids in the playground because he doesn't know them.  He will either stare or yell at them, and I have to remind him to be nice. 

I don't have any videos of me from when I was very young.  The first time I was videotaped was when I was about ten years old.  My mom had been living in America and a friend of hers from our town came back on vacation.  As a favor, she attended a party at our house and took some video of us to take back to my mom.

On the other hand, my son just yesterday was watching our home videos of himself.  I mentioned his joy when sees himself having fun.  Likewise, he gets concerned when he sees himself upset. 

My wife thinks I'm sadistic when I videotape him crying, but I like to chronicle different moments.  And it's only for a few seconds.  And it's not like I just let him keep crying.  I'm not evil.  Right?

Anyways, one moment we watched was during bedtime, and he didn't want to go to sleep, so he started whining and crying.  And I told him to use his words, but he kept crying anyway.  As my son watched this, he said, "He crying.  He want Dennis Bird."  (We named it that because it was an angry bird given by a friend named Dennis).

I thought it was interesting.  Here is my two year old son watching himself and explaining his behavior to his dad.  At the time he was so upset that he couldn't use his words.  And now he is able to look back on it and help us understand him.

Thirty years from now, he might have a kid of his own and they might watch be watching that same video.  That would make me a grandpa.  Now that's really crazy.

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Memory Gland: How I met her mother.

My wife was born in Hawaii.  And while it might seem like paradise to the rest of us, for those who grew up there, it can be quite confining.  There's not a lot of places to go when you're in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

So when it was time for her to go to college, she chose to be as far away from the islands as possible.  She wanted to go to New York, and after considering finances, her family decided that New Jersey was close enough.  She was on her first year and I was on my last when we met.  You may not believe in fate -- and I may not either -- but it was a pretty good coincidence for our paths to cross.  When you consider how many years it took me to finally be a senior -- what with my excellent work ethic and study habits -- it's even more remarkable.  Or I should say, re-karma-ble.  (Okay that was lame.)

I think I had already mentioned how I first met Gail Forcewind (fake name, of course) in a previous post, so I'll skip that part of it.  This is about how I met her mother, who until our encounter never knew of my existence.  That was because she had forbidden her only daughter from dating.  Gail was instead instructed to focus solely on her studies.  But how ever do you expect her from concentrating on anything else after seeing such a handsome devil like me?

We had been dating a few months when her mother visited a friend in Chicago.  She told Gail she was forwarding a package to the Newark airport and that Gail would have to pick it up there.  That seemed strange to me.  I never heard of picking something up at baggage claim without a passenger travelling with it.  Being the obedient daughter, she believed her mother and told me not to worry.

I was shooting my film project when she went to the airport.  She was supposed to meet me at school afterwards to help out.  While we were setting up one of the shots, I received a text from Gail.  Suprise!  Her mom was there to visit her!

When they got to the room she was renting, she discretely hid my pants and other things.  Then she explained that she was needed at the school to help out with a project.  Her mom was understandably upset about that.  I guess she figured Gail would drop everything out of her excitement.

She was in a state of shock when she arrived at the set.  I insisted that she be honest with her mom, but she was hesitant.  So then we devised a plan.

They went to Apollo's Restaurant for lunch the next day, and I happened to be living across the street from it.  She texted me when they got there, and I went in.  I was looking at the buffet selection when I saw them.  Then it kind of went like this:

"Oh, hey, Gail!  Isn't it funny to see you here?"

"Hey, David.  Why don't you sit down and eat with us?"

Something like that.  I kind of don't remember exactly how it went.  I was kind of nervous.  Now that I think back on it, it was pretty transparent.

She introduced us, and I offered to take her around.  Her mom wanted to buy some gifts, so I drove them to Garden State Mall later that afternoon.  We went walking in New York together.

After a couple of days, Gail told me her mom referred to me as her boyfriend.  She denied it and acted innocent, and her mom said, "What do you think I am, stupid?"  But then she was pretty cool about it.  She only insisted that her daughter finish college and get a good job.

So then after that, we started holding hands in front of her and even kissing when we would part.  I graduated and found a job the next year.  A few years later so did Gail.  And soon after, we were married.

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Memory Gland: Twenty years ago.

I came to America in August, 1991.  I attended a Catholic School in Queens called St. Gregory the Great.  I was in sixth grade and barely spoke to anyone.

I knew how to speak English but I was just too shy to actually converse with anyone.  Everyone in my school was white.  No one was mean to me or anything but I just couldn't get myself to actually talk.

On the first day, the principal introduced me to the class.  She explained that I was new to the country and everything, and when I sat at my desk in the back, this kid turned around, smiled at me and shook my hand.  His name was Kevin Sweeney.  Later on in the day, he walked with me to the school store and helped me purchase a tie for my uniform.  He asked if I knew how to tie one, and I said no so we decided on getting a clip-on.  (Actually, it may have been one of those kind of pre-tied ties that you just tighten.  I'm not sure how to describe it.)

My mom and I moved out of my aunt's house in December of that year to move to New Jersey.  I didn't keep in touch with anyone.  I didn't even think about it.  I've always appreciated Kevin's friendliness, and sometimes I wonder how he and my former classmates are doing.  His is the only name I fully remember.  And I think that's because there was a baseball player named Sweeney at the time, and I remember thinking that that must be a common surname in America.  I guess it really must be common because when I did an internet search for Kevin Sweeney a while ago, there turned out to be quite a few of them.  My best guess about my classmate is that he is the one who is a priest or pastor now.

Anyways, that's not what I wanted to write about.  I meant to reflect on my first Columbus Day.  Well, not actually Columbus Day, but the Friday before it.

Most of my time at St. Gregory's was pretty lonely.  The kids there were friendly enough, but mostly I was too damn shy to do anything about it.  The girls were all into "Beverly Hills 90210", which I didn't really care about, and the boys were all into football, which I didn't understand.

There was this one girl Katie who I think liked me.  But whenever we exchanged words, the other kids would kind of tease us about it.  I remember showing her my drawings and making a sign for her that said "Katie's Room".  Anyways, even if she did actually like me, I was unaware of it.

But anyways, back to my point.  During lunchtime that Friday, and for a few days before that as well, some of the boys approached me.  They wanted to learn bad words in my language.  And I taught them some, and it was kind of funny.  It was nice that I wasn't sitting bored and alone for a change.  (The only thing that I realize now is that I was teaching them words in my dialect, and if they talked to most Filipinos about it, they probably wouldn't understand.)

Anyways, near the end of the day, I guess with the holiday coming up or something, I remember we were just talking in the classroom, and I kept teaching bad words to my classmates.  I remember speaking in my dialect, and it just felt good and comfortable to just be talking again.  And I just got carried away and kept talking in my language.

I said stuff like, "I can just keep talking and call you names and insult you, and you wouldn't understand."  And I just kept cursing everybody in my dialect.  And nobody really said anything to me.  I felt superior.

The kids who rode the school bus were allowed to leave a few minutes early, and I kept on going as I walked down the steps to line up.  And I just kept going as we stood in the hall waiting for the bus to come.  Then this girl in front of me suddenly snapped.  "Would you shut the fuck up already?!  We have enough problems here."  And then I stopped.  And then I didn't really say much for the next couple of months that I was there.

Her name was Erin, and I wish I could remember her last name.  I wonder if she even remembers that moment.  I definitely remember it fondly.  And I'm not now or was ever offended by it.  I was being annoying, and I needed it.  It was my fresh off the boat moment, I guess.

Anyway, that's my Columbus Day memory.

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Queue Tips: Despicable you.

I actually don't have Netflix anymore.  I cancelled it over a year ago.  A friend of mine actually lets me put some DVDs on his queue and lets me watch them.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe he's nice or something.

Let me summarize some reasons why I unsubscribed from the service.  The main reason I moved on was really when they raised the price.  At the time, it was really just around $1 more a month.  But why should a pay even a penny more when the service I'm getting is dwindling?

I had been getting many scratched and even broken DVDs.  When this happens, I would sometimes get a replacement, but then I would have to wait another day or two for it.  Or I won't get a replacement at all.  It would go on short wait.  Or long wait.  Or extremely long wait.  Or the "saved" section, which means they don't actually have it.  Or they used to have it, but the DVDs broke and they don't want to replace it.

What really appealed to me about Netflix was the selection of movies and TV shows they had.  Blockbuster, Hollywood or that little store around the block simply didn't have as much to choose from.  I got to see many films by my favorite directors without having to take a train to the city to a Kim's Video branch (which is now, as far as I know, out of business).

One reason that really made me irate is the stripping of the extra features.  Taking away the audio commentary really angers me, to be honest.  The additional audio track only takes a few megabytes on the DVD, so why not just leave it in there?  The company took all this effort to re-author a disc in order to deprive a customer of what they used to get.

What really infuriates me is what I found on "Despicable Me", for example.  I knew they stripped DVDs of extra features, so I didn't expect to find any bonus materials.  After watching the movie, the DVD automatically when to the extra features menu.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that.  There were a handful of bonus choices.

So I clicked one.  It went to a page that essentially said, "This DVD does not have extra features.  Get the Bonus DVD for the extra features."  Or something to that extent.

So I moved on and clicked the next option on the menu.  It said the same thing.  And so did the others.

So my question is, why even put the damn extra features menu page on  the damn disc?  Why even put the different bonus choices on there?  The company is essentially taunting me.  It actually re-authored a DVD just so it can show me what they have that I used to get for free.

I'm not even going into the whole silliness of the Qwikster thing.  I am eagerly looking forward in anticipation of the downfall of this company.

Anyways, I did find "Despicable Me" enjoyable.  Timeout boy liked it, but it's not really for two year olds.  I would say it's more for grade school kids and older.


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Queue Tips: Disguise the limit.

Can someone please explain Jim Jarmusch to me?  I just don't get it.  I don't understand how he keeps making films.  Where is he getting the funding from?  Are any of his films making any money?

I've tried to like this guy so many times, but every time boredom overcomes me.  I thought "Dead Man" was okay, as well as "Broken Flowers".  "Ghost Dog" was one of the most boring movies I've sat through.  Even the fact that it was shot in Jersey City and that I recognized some of the locations did nothing for me.

I put "The Limits of Control" on my queue because Gael Garcia Bernal was in it.  I didn't know it was a Jim Jarmusch film.  By the time I realized this, the DVD was already on the way and I decided to give it another shot.

I had to stop and start this thing so many times.  I couldn't get through it in one sitting.  I always try to see the whole movie, including credits, no matter how bad it is, in the hopes that there is one redeeming thing about it.

I definitely enjoyed the first few minutes.  I loved the composition.  Any film not shot in handheld is rare nowadays, so that was refreshing.  And then it went nowhere.  Just the usual boring Jim Jarmusch stuff.

I really hoped to be able to appreciate it, but I don't know.  Maybe I'm just dumb.  Most of it is over my head, I guess.  I'm glad I didn't somehow end up watching this in the theatre.  I don't know if I'd be able to stand all the pretentious people who would appreciate this.

He's some sort of experimental genius.  I get it.  How many films does he have to make to prove this? In the DVD extra, he says that althought there are a limited number of stories that can be told, there are unlimited ways of telling them.  Unlimited boring ways.

"The Limits of Control" references other films.  Which Jim Jarmusch must have seen.  Didn't those films entertain him?  Okay, he's seen all these films and photos and heard all this music, and all that inspired him to be as flat as possible?  I just don't get it.

Don't directors pusue filmmaking because of how the movies have made them feel?  Didn't those stories touch him in some way?  But instead he decides to just make films that no one likes.  I just don't get it.

David Lynch and Michael Haneke are also auteur type directors but they can make their films watchable.  They are also making a point about the medium itself, but not in an utterly boring way.  I mean, if you refuse to connect with your audience, what is the point of creating a medium?

I wonder if Jim Jarmusch ever actually rewatches any of his films.  I don't know.  He's a pretty odd fella from what I can tell.  He probably jerks off to them.

Even the nude woman being all nude and bare naked couldn't erase my disinterest.  Why waste your money on sleeping pills?  Put this DVD on your queue.

And now here is a "Family Guy" clip:





My sentiments exactly.

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Queue Tips: Hesher

Apparently, "Hesher" is not a movie about chocolate candy bars.  It's a pretty good film starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Natalie Portman.  Also, Rainn Wilson is in it, but I totally didn't realize it was him.  John Carroll Lynch is in it as well.  You might recognize him from such films as "Fargo" and "Beautiful Girls" (also with Portman) and "The Drew Carey Show".

It's not for everybody, I guess, but I thought it was awesome.  The main issue with it would be that some of the events are a little far-fetched, as far as character choices.  But not too hard to believe that you can't just go along with it.

There are some heavy metal music in there, as the lead character is sort of a metal head.  That's my real problem with it, I guess.  Most of the song choices are typical, like Metallica and Motorhead.  No Slayer, as far as I know.

Apart from that, I thought the child actor Devin Brochu showed great talent as the lead.  Either that, or the director Spencer Susser did a great job in motivating him and cutting together a terrific performance.  Or both.

Lastly, I was surprised that Netflix didn't strip the DVD of its special features.  It was nice to see the outtakes and behind the scenes.  I especially love watching a low budget indie-type film being made.

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Queue Tips: I am dumber for...

I am dumber for having watched "I Am Number Four".  It's about a teenager who's actually an alien trying to blend in with normal people.  I don't think I'm really giving away anything, because all that is explained in the first few minutes.  Via voiceover.  If you're just going to narrate to me, why don't I just turn off the movie and read the book?

The filmmakers don't seem to understand that what makes this kind of genre work is letting the audience discover that your protagonist is special, not letting the cat out of the bag immediately.  Take for example Harry Potter, or Charlie Bucket or Luke Skywalker.  They start out as regular kids and gradually we find out they are special.

So giving it away right away kind of makes it lame.  And that makes all the crazy alien ways even lamer.  It's all so ridiculous, like some little kid making up stories before bedtime.

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Memory Gland: Ten Years Ago

I wanted to write about some memories of mine.  With today being the tenth anniversary of the WTC attacks, I figured I would start out with what many people are talking about.  No one can forget where they were when it happened.

The New York Times recently posted this interactive feature of some recently released 9/11 tapes.  You can listen to them while reading the transcripts and notes at the same time.  They also track where the four planes where as you are hearing the calls.

While all of this was happening, I was sound asleep.  I was in college and scheduled all my classes on a Thursday.  I may have slept the whole day before.  I woke up when the phone rang and immediately answered it, just in case it was the girl I had really liked.  It turned out to be a buddy of mine.

"Go down to Liberty State Park," he said.

"What?" I said.  I was still kind of groggy.  We had been going to LSP to toss the football around.  But that was in the afternoons.

Why would he want to play football in the morning?  On a weekday?  And did he not know that I wouldn't have the car because my mom was at work?  And why didn't he just pick me up on the way instead of asking me to meet him there?

"You don't know what happened?"

"What happened?"

"Turn on your TV."

Okay.  Apparently a plane hit the World Trade Center.  Was this an accident?  Some amateur flew into it?  No, both buildings were hit.  Okay, that's no accident.

I don't remember what my friend and I said after that, but it was brief.  He was at work at Garden State Mall.  He said there were some people panicking there, afraid the place would be attacked as well.  After he hung up, I sat there in my mom's bedroom watching the news.

It was on WCBS, the only channel the TV could get.  All the other stations broadcasted through the towers except for Channel 2.  Just as in the 1993 attack when I came home from school and found out what happened, I sat there in front of the TV alone.

Okay, so the buildings are on fire.  Don't they have helicopters that could douse it with water.  This would be interesting to see.  I can't believe these assholes are so stubborn and stupid to keep going after these buildings.  We'll put the fires out, and we'll rebuild it.

I was taking a photography class at the time, so I decided to take a camera and go outside.  We lived on top of a hill in Jersey City, and we had a great view of the New York City skyline.  I walked one block to a street next to a small cliff with an unobstructed view.

There were a handful of people there.  I didn't say a word to anyone.  I may have had my headphones on, listening to AM radio on my walkman.  I took a few pictures.  A few minutes later, one of the towers crumbled, and my heart sank.  And then the other one went down, too.  I couldn't believe it.  I was numb.

I developed the pictures, but I never published them.  Even at class, I didn't tell anyone about it.  I'm not sure why.  I shared them with some close friends, but that was it.  At the time, I was interested in exploring photography as a career, maybe even becoming a war photographer.  After the semester, I didn't pursue it any further.

I ended up as a video editor in New York City in 2005.  I can't say much about it, but I have had the privilege and honor of working on some important things.  Some were not always easy to watch or hear. And all this time these things were happening, many of us were blissfully unaware.

I wish we could have kept on sleeping.

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indieVisible: Sequence 11

Here is what I've been working on recently:



This is something that I've been wanting to do for years.  It's been in my head for so long.  I just thought it might be interesting to cut together.

This was not my first music choice, but I think it works very well.  They are two music tracks by the band Shadows Fall.  I like it because you wouldn't necessarily know that they are a heavy metal band from hearing this.

Youtube wouldn't allow my original choice because the copyright owner doesn't get along with them.  But I did get a bit teary eyed from that version.  However, I think the way it is now is more reflective, perhaps even hopeful, than the other.

Growing up in Jersey City, I used to always see the twin towers.  They were just always there.  Walking around New York, it used to be our guide for getting home; when we were lost downtown, we would just head toward the World Trade Center because we knew the PATH Train would be under it.  When I first got my license as a teenager, I would sometimes use it to know which way I was going.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who can say that the buildings had become a part of me.

I had only been up there once.  That was when my older brother came to visit during Christmas in 1992. We went around the New York City spots with him.  I had been living in America for a year, but we never did that stuff.  I guess because I would be a resident, and my brother was only on vacation.  I was 12 and he was in college and the plan was for him to finish school and come back in a few years to get a job.

I remember the long line in the lobby.  And then going into a huge elevator, the biggest elevator I've ever been in.  And then going around the viewing area upstairs.

A few days later we watched "Home Alone 2: Lost in New York".  I remember my brother asking during the movie if Duncan's Toy Chest was a real store.  I think he may have wanted to visit it.  I shook my head and whispered, "No, I don't think so."  But that shot of Kevin on top of the tower is an unforgettable one for me, and I'm so thankful to the filmmakers for producing that.

In 1993, I was in seventh grade and I hated it.  I couldn't stand all the nonsense.  Most of the time I would daydream and look out the window.  At history class at St. Aedan's I could always see the New York City skyline.  I remember I would sometimes stare at the light on top going on and off, almost putting me in some sort of hypnotic trance.  My eyes would just fix on it while my mind would wander.

I remember one specific time I stood observing the towers absently.  I was standing by the window, and not sitting, because we were doing some sort of project where we were all scattered about in groups or something.  And then I remember coming home to find I couldn't watch the Disney afternoon on Channel 11.  We didn't have cable, and there was no signal.  I flipped through the channels, and there was nothing.

Until I got to Channel 2 and found out the towers had been attacked.  All the other channels had been broadcasting through the towers.  I think WCBS used the Empire State Building instead.

In 2000, our professor for our art class took us on a trip to Battery Park in lower Manhattan.  We took a ferry across the river, the first time I've been on the water since going to Ellis Island eight years before.  Anyway, there were little bronze sculptures all around, and I think our professor wanted us to discover them and find inspiration or something, so that's why we were there.

But I remember wandering into one of the building lobbies.  It turned out to be the Winter Garden Atrium.  It was domed, and I never realized until I entered it that you could see through the glass on top of it.  It was a complete surprise for me to spend the day looking down at the ground searching for tiny bronze statues, enter into a building, look up, and see that the World Trade Center towers were up above me.  For people who have been there many times, it may have been a common sight, but for me it was indescribable.

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Queue Tips: Limitless

I watched "Limitless" recently.  I wasn't sure why it had been on my queue.  It was more like "pointless" to me.

It's about a guy who finds a way to use his brain more efficiently, and is able to learn quickly and so on and so forth.  Because of his newfound abilities, pretty much anything can happen.  The problem with movies like this is, something does happen.  And usually that something is a letdown.

I'm not going to give away the plot, although I might as well in order to give you as little incentive to watch it as possible.  But anyway, what the character decides to do kind of has its limits.  So the title is not apt.  It's not.

About half an hour into it, I realized why I wanted to see it.  Robert De Niro is in it.  For only a few minutes.  So that, too, was kind of pointless.

In addition, everything is spelled out via narration and overtly expositional dialogue.  For a movie that touts increased brain activity, it pretty much doesn't challenge the viewer to use their minds either.

And now here is "Frank's 2000 Inch TV" by Weird Al Yankovic, because it has a line about De Niro's Mole:



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Commuter Illiterate: Yogi and the Bear

Here is a fun exchange I noticed on the train. I think these guys knew each other. One of them decided to humiliate the other one. He said it would be good for him or something. The other guy didn't appreciate it very much, and they started going into it.

It's a little out of sync because of my phone camera, and I couldn't fix it. It's a little over 6 minutes, and it's laced with some four letter words. Enjoy.



I'm not sure what a yogi is. I guess it's some guy who teaches yoga or something. Anyways, at least they didn't come to blows. I can hardly care about them beating each other but there were passengers around them that could have gotten hurt.

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Chum Bucket: It's a small world after all.

I'm not quite too sure exactly how I became chums with Don Surlylight.  We had some classes together at college, but I can't remember our first conversations and other stuff like that.  I don't even think we had any group projects that would have drawn us together.

He didn't play an instrument but I remember him being at my basement while I was jamming with my other friends.  I don't think we even liked the same music because I remember him being into that emo shit.  The only thing we really had in common is that we are both Filipino.  I vaguely remember some classmate presenting a video about heritage that I liked, so it may have been him and I may have complimented him.

I remember specifically another classmate named Noah Shark, who pretty much became friends with me because we were both from the Philippines.  Now that I think about it, he probably introduced us or something.  But the point was that after Little Lost Guy went back to Ecuador, I was suddenly hanging out with Don Surlylight, talking about projects and girls and whatnot.

One Spring day in 2004, we spontaneously decided to look into getting internships.  So we walked over to this building to inquire.  We were told to wait, and we sat down on the couch in the department's office (I forget the name: Job Placement?  Career Development?  Iono, something).  Anyways, I was seated facing out the door, and across from us was the reception desk for the Advisement Center.  It was one of those funny serendipity things because Don was right next to me, and his eye line was towards the wall and mine was towards what was an empty chair behind the desk at the time.

We were waiting for a while, but I wasn't complaining because a beautiful girl came by and occupied that empty chair at the reception desk across from me.

Timeout Boy at the Reception.

My wife's former co-worker invited us to her wedding reception a few weeks ago.  I was hesitant at first because we didn't have anything to wear and we didn't know any of the other guests.  Mostly, I was concerned about how Timeout Boy would behave at that fancy restaurant.

We got there pretty early.  We were the second group to arrive.  We found our table and waited a while for things to get started.

Timeout Boy sat in a high chair at the end of the table.  He had his friend Red with him, a MegaBlok mini-figure which he played with for a while until he started banging it on the table and we had to take the toy away.  He also had his milk and crackers.

A couple who was at our table commented that he was very well behaved, which kind of surprised me.  I thought, yes, I guess he was.  My son had been a good boy all night.  They said they had a kid about the same age, and he would have been running around all over.  We figured if Timeout Boy knew the people there, he would probably be doing the same.

Here is my son enjoying the music:


The other day before the Jets game, we stopped by Fun Buffet and were seated at a booth.  I sat on one side with my friend, and my wife and son were on the other.  When my wife left to get food, Timeout Boy sat there quietly drinking his milk.  The group across from us stared at him and asked how old he was.  I said two, and they looked surprised.

"Wow, he is so well mannered," said one of them.  I simply smiled.  Yes, he is, I thought to myself.

Funny thing is, growing up, "well mannered" kids seemed to be the norm, if I remember correctly.  Even when I visited the Philippines, I don't remember seeing kids acting out.  I'm not sure why that is.

Maybe it's the culture?  Parents there aren't worried about spanking their kids if they had to.  Or the teachers in school, for that matter.  Maybe it's the economy?  Parents are working more and have less time at thome?  I'm not sure.  I don't know why I'm even going into it.

I must say, though, it's a big relief to be able to go to a restaurant and not have your two year old kicking and screaming like we sometimes see.

Oh yeah, here's some more dance:


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Timeout Boy at the Jets Game

This Sunday night I took my two year old boy to his first ever Jets game.  A good friend of mine gave us his preseason tickets against the Bengals, so after checking that the weather would be partly cloudy, I decided to take them.  Of course, the weather suddenly changed once we started actually making plans.

We went looking for a jersey for the kid, and it took some searching to finally find one.  We tried Target, Babies R Us and Modell's, but none of them had it.  We found a really nice one at Sports Authority, but we didn't feel like spending $60 for something he would only wear a few times really.  We ended up at Kohl's and were surprised to find a Mark Sanchez jersey for $32, so we went for it.

Here is a picture of my kid in his number 6 and me in my Wayne Chrebet 80:

We couldn't find one small enough for Monkey the Bear though, so he had to settle for a bib:

One of my best friends happened to be vacationing in the country, so I figured since we had an extra ticket, he could come with us.  He decided to come along even though he's not exactly into sports.  It took some time for Timeout Boy to warm up to "Uncle", but by the end of the night he was holding his hand on the escalator.  Here we are on the way up the "alligator", as Timeout Boy would say:

We were all the way up in section 340, so he enjoyed a lot of escalator rides:

I would admit I'm not an expert with the whole game experience.  Even though the whole forecast had changed, I guess my wife and I were both a little overwhelmed with the excitement because we totally forgot to bring ponchos, towels or even hats for the rain.  Also, I passed by some tailgaters that I was familiar with via Twitter so I stopped by to say hello.  But when I was asked, "Who else do you know on Twitter?" I kind of drew a blank.  Haha!  O-welles.  Also, we had to change the little kiddo's diaper and his green pants were soaked so we had to find another one and I was worried the extra one would be blue and I would never want him to wear blue to a Jets game and so on.

So anyways, as we settled in our seats all the way up in the heavens, we looked up at the darkening sky and realized, we left the hats in the car.  Timeout Boy was happy though.  He would feel the drops on his face and smile so wide.  We would never let him out in the rain in any other circumstance.  We sat there for a while, but then common sense took over and we seeked shelter.  I told my friend he was lucky that my son was there because if not, we would have stayed all game in the rain.

We went back for a few minutes during player introductions, and my son looked so excited.  He was mostly staring up at the crowds, so I had to point him down towards the field.  He turned around just in time to see Sanchise running out.  And then Santonio Holmes after.  Timeout Boy had such a terrific wide-eyed look of awe and wonder.  It was totally worth it just for that.

We then sat around the sheltered part of the stadium.  We walked up and down some of the stairs, which Timeout Boy totally loved.  Oh, and I forgot to mention that the whole night, he would see the fans in their Jets jerseys and say, "Look, it's Jets."  And, "There's another Jets."

The wife was kind enough to offer that my friend and I watch while she stayed with Timeout Boy.  So I said yes.  But we only watched the first quarter before deciding to leave.  Here is my son enjoying his milk and goldfish as they waited for us:

It was kind of a short night, but it turned out fine because we ended up getting home just at his bedtime.  (Okay, it was about a half hour later than, but still).

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We Are Marshall

The medium is the message.  But for a few cents more you can supersize it.  Or something like that.  That's a quote by Marshall McLuhan, aka Big Mac, according to me.

I'm not realy sure what this means.  But remember when Jerry and George had this idea of creating a show about nothing?  They were asked why people would watch it, and they answered, "Because it's on TV."  So I guess that's kind of what it means.

I won't pretend to be an expert about it like this guy:



I am pretty much McClueless about Marshall McLuhan.

But anyway, to ramble on, I happen to be on Twitter.  And some of those tweets go on like this:

"I have 1000 followers.  Help me get to 2000."

"I'm coming up on tweet number 50,000."

And so on.

Um, so what was my point?  I don't know.  I just wanted to blog about something.

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Timeout Boy at Brooklyn Bridge

Here is video of us at the Brooklyn Bridge after we went to High Line Park:



We had planned on going all the way to Brooklyn and hanging out at DUMBO (Downtown Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass).  There's a park there under the bridge where we could have sat and relaxed and sang "Under the Bridge" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Well, I totally didn't expect service changes on the MTA Subway.  I don't ride it that much, and I should have known better that it would be out of whack on the weekend.  So we spent a lot of time navigating, trying to find which line goes to which stop, and waiting and waiting for that next train, trying to stand far enough from the edge so the little boy doesn't run off and fall, yet close enough so other passengers don't cut us off.  And stuff like that.

And anyway, we had to go home and do laundry and other chores, so we just bought Italian ice and called it a day.  It cost $3 for the little cup you see in the video, by the way.  Also, you know those guys who stand there all day selling that stuff?  Well, they have to answer nature once in a while, and do you know where they go?  Yes, right there on the bridge.  But I didn't get that on video.

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Timeout Boy at the High Line

Have you heard about the High Line Park in New York City?  Basically, the city took an old elevated train track and converted it into public space.  It opened a couple of years ago.  I wanted to explore it last year, but we didn't get a chance.  Plus, Timeout Boy was just learning to walk, and I didn't want to push around a big baby cart stroller.

This year, we bought ourselves a lightweight umbrella stroller.  One Saturday morning, we took the PATH Train to 14th Street.  We stopped by Chelsea Bagels and had breakfast.  Then we walked west towards Gansevoort and walked up the stairs easily, since we were able to fold the stroller and carry it up.

It's a nice park.  Here is a video:


It was fun, but it was narrow so we couldn't just let the kid run around and bump into people.  At the other end on 30th Street, there are some food trucks and benches.  However, we decided to walk over to my office and utilize the facilities.  We then ordered from Shorty's and ate at the conference room. 
We then took the Subway downtown and walked over the Brooklyn Bridge before calling it a day.

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Timeout Boy at the Turtle Back Zoo

I used to hang out at West Orange all the time, and I never even realized there was a zoo there.  I only heard about Turtle Back Zoo a few months ago, and recently we decided to check it out.  We heard it was a great place for kids, and indeed it was.

It was kind of hard to find.  There's not a lot of signage pointing to the place.  Even when we got to the parking lot, we weren't sure which space to take because we didn't see right away where the main entrance was.  (We like to come early, and there weren't many cars yet.)

The playground was closed that day, but Timeout Boy still seemed to have a lot of fun.  He liked the carousel and the bear house.  He also liked the wolves, and we stayed to watch them for a long while.  The best part is the bird house, where they sell these feed sticks that the kids can use to feed the birds.  Here is a video:



There's also a train that goes by the lake.  The kids there seemed to enjoy it, but Timeout Boy fell asleep during the ride.  He hasn't had his nap all day, and after all that walking and running around all day, he was knocked out.

Afterwards, we drove around West Orange and Essex County.  My wife and her cousin were a little on edge because I didn't tell them I was planning on driving through South Mountain Reservation.  They were thinking of horror movie stuff and didn't want to go walking through the woods.  Well, I didn't force them to, because it was raining anyway.

And then I took them to Eagle Rock Reservation.  LOL.  I was hoping we could see the New York skyline from there but it was foggy.

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Timeout Boy

Well, I promised myself I wouldn't share personal videos on here, but since no one seems to actually read this blog anyway, I decided to post something that I've been watching over and over.  It keeps making me laugh.  Here is Rocky* one morning in April.  (*It's not his real name. I'm still not comfortable sharing it.)

For some reason, he came up with the idea of putting himself on timeout.  It was a totally random thing that he hasn't done since.  Check out his cute timeout face:

And then he does his little dance in the end.  LOL!

Oh, and by the way, in front of the oven is not his timeout spot.  We just happened to be having breakfast in the kitchen and that's where he did this.

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Commuter Illiterate: Search engine.

The other day I was "randomly" searched again on the PATH Train.

This is how it works.  There at at least two police officers.  One of them stands among the crowds and picks someone at "random".  He makes sure the potential terrorist doesn't get lost in the shuffle.  I don't know what his system is, but he seemingly knows.  So I call him the Knows-Picker.

Then there's the guy who actually searches your bag.  He stands to the side and waits for the "random" potential terrorist.  He then examines your bag with his anti-terrorism device.  To the untrained eye, this device looks like a simple rolling cart with a flat surface.  But no.  You're being stupid, stupid.  For all we know, that is some high tech equipment there that we don't know about, and not just a table with wheels to make the search look more official.

I call this guy... The Searcher.  Dun-dun-dun!  But until the "random" potential terrorist is actually brought to him, you can call him... The Waiter!

So the other day after work, I was "randomly" selected again by the Knows-Picker.  He walked up towards me, and I stopped in my tracks.  (Get it?  Cos I was headed for the train).  Anyway, he didn't have to say anything.  I know how it works.

I gave out a loud sigh and walked reluctantly towards the high-tech anti-terrorism device which to the untrained eye looks merely like a rolling cart with a flat surface.  As The Waiter turned into The Searcher and searched my bag, he asked, "Is there a problem, sir?"

"This is not the first time I've been searched," I said, not really wanting to talk in the first place, or even acknowledge other human beings in the first place.

"Well, I got news for you," he replied readily.  "This won't be the last time."

"No shit."  "Yeah, I bet," I said.

"You think I like doing this?" he offered, unsolicited.  "You don't think I want to be someplace else?  I don't like doing this either."

Before I could even think of a response, which probably would have been about me not caring about what he would rather be doing or not doing, we were interrupted.  I hadn't mentioned this, but sometimes, there are more than two officers there.  Sometimes you have a couple of cops who hang around in the back, probably serving as back-ups if necessary.

If not necessary, they hang back and talk to each other, presumably about how effective "random" bag searches are and how potential terrorists would be too dumb to just use the opposite entrance across the street where they never wait and search.  Or about how safe travellers must feel with them hanging around in the back talking.  And how scientific it is to foil potential attacks by "random" sheer utter luck.  And/or how they can improve good will between officers and citizens through their courtesy, professionalism and respect.   (Oh wait, does that apply to the PAPD?  Well, then, what's the motto with you?)

Anyway, one of these guys in the back (I call them The Guys Who Like It in the Back) interrupted and said to me, "Let me tell you how it works."

I said, "I know how it works."

"If you don't agree to the search," he continued as The Searcher handed my bag back to me (which might indicate to any observant person, whether a police officer on duty or not, that the search has actually finished and therefore taken place and therefore agreed upon, albeit reluctantly), "You cannot take the train."

"Yeah, I know how it works," I repeated.  "I didn't say anything.  He asked me."  I wasn't even sure if I was making any kind of sense, but I wasn't expecting to be in the middle of a debate either.  I then proceeded through the turnstile and went about my business.

Ah, yet another wonderful exchange with the Port Authority Police.  Just another perk of being "randomly" searched on the PATH Train.  Not that I have problem with the cops themselves.  The way I see it, being "randomly" searched  is just like stepping on dog shit.  You don't blame the dog.  You just wipe your feet and move on.

And now, here is Monty Python:


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Queue Tips: Blue Valentine

Apparently, "Blue Valentine" is not the sequel to "My Bloody Valentine".  Or "Blue Velvet".  This is a film starring Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling.  Also in it is John Doman, who played Rawls in HBO's "The Wire".

I really liked the writing and editing of this film.  The past and future were intercut together very well and pretty seamlessly.  Unlike in "Rabbit Hole", we were able to see the characters change.

The film starts with the death of their family dog.  It instantly reminded me of "Wendy and Lucy" where Williams plays a character who has lost her dog.  And then I thought maybe this film was made by the same director.  Maybe Kelly Reichardt finally realized she should try and connect with the audience.  Well, after the film, I checked the credits and found that this was directed by Derek Cianfrance, about whom I pretty much know nothing.  I think he did an excellent job with this film, and I look forward to seeing more from him in the future.  Meanwhile, Reichardt is probably working on some other boring shit.

The acting was superb.  Ryan and Michelle were both very natural and believable.  What else can I say?  I think of stuff while viewing but totally forget once it's done.  And it doesn't help when so much time passes before blogging.  So I guess, just check it out when you get a chance.

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Queue Tips: Rabbit Hole

Apparently, "Rabbit Hole" is not some kind of Jewish porn.  I guess I read the title wrong.  This is a film starring Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart, who play a couple who lost their young son.

Being a fairly new parent, I have had a lot of fears, morbid scary thoughts that I wish would never happen.  It's tough to imagine what it would feel to be in that kind of situation.  God forbid something happens, I just don't know what kind of person I would become.

My main problem with this movie is that we're watching the characters after their tragedy.  We don't really know who they were or what their life was like before.  We're seeing them react to the situation but we don't know how they may have changed.  Either that, or I totally just missed it.

I thought the film was well done, although I felt it was a little melodramatic at some points.  There was a little too much yelling for me, but I guess the characters needed to let out their frustration.  I would still recommend it but you can probably wait for the DVD.

This movie was based on a play, and I would actually be more interested in watching the stage production.

Queue Tips: The Fighter

Apparently, "The Fighter" has nothing to do with Dave Grohl.  Cos he was in the Foo Fighters.  Hello?  Anyone?

This was a pretty good film despite the plain, generic sounding title.  Christian Bale never disappoints.  You gotta love his dedication to his craft.  He kind of actually reminded me of a client who was a former boxer.  Mark Wahlberg was all right, I guess.  He hasn't actually done anything that has truly impressed me.  But then again, I haven't seen "Invincible" yet.  Or "Max Payne".

Melissa Leo was awesome.  I didn't know she would be in it.  I always love little surprises like that.  She was of course terrific in "Frozen River".  Recently she was in HBO's "Treme".  And you've probably never seen her in "Homicide: Life on the Street", but that was a pretty good show.

I don't like to reveal too much, and I don't know what else to say, so just check it out when you get a chance.

Queue Tips: Where my speeches at?

Apparently, "The King's Speech" has nothing to do with Elvis.  Or one of the leaders of the Civil Rights movement.  Or a basketball player from Sacramento.  Or a hockey player from L.A.  Or Fu's Chinese Restaurant.

Nope.  Instead, it's about King George VI, who reigned over England during World War II.  Apparently, the guy was a stutterer, and being a public figure who had to speak to his people, that was a problem.  So he hires a speech therapist who tries to help him.

It's a good film, although I felt they made some situations feel a little too convenient.  The movie didn't start out with the main character as king.  He was only the Duke of York in the beginning, and they kind of made him less ambitious than you would expect a normal human being to be.  Even when he was finally crowned, he seemed less than enthusiastic to be at such a high position.  Of course, they show that he was burdened by his duties and that he didn't actually have total power or anything.  But I just kind of expected him to be a little happier.  Just a bit.

Geoffrey Rush was terrific as the speech therapist.  You may have seen him in the "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies.  I don't know if you've seen him in "Quills" though.  If you haven't, put it on your queue and check it out.  I watched that film a while ago with my wife.  I popped the DVD in before going to sleep one night, hoping to just watch a few minutes before dozing off.  We ended up staying up to watch the whole thing and sleeping around two in the morning.  That was the latest we've gone to sleep in a long time.

Oh yeah, and Guy Pearce plays King Edward VIII, the older brother of George, who is played by Colin Firth.  Helena Bonham Carter plays his wife.  Michael Gambon aka Dumbledore plays King George V.

And the film is directed by Tom Hooper, who I didn't know much about.  It turns out I've seen some of his work as director of the mini-series "John Adams".  If you haven't seen that, check it out also.  It stars Paul Giamatti.  David Morse is in it also, as well as a small role by Mamie Gummer, who is the daughter of Meryl Streep.

Queue Tips: Dawn tread on me.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Narnia.

Narnia who?

Narnia darn business!  Mwahahaha!

I love that lame little joke.  I look forward to "Chronicles of Narnia" movies just so I can tell it again.  When I first watched "The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe", I didn't even realize what exactly a wardrobe was.  I thought it was just clothes.  I didn't know it also stood for the piece of furniture that holds the clothes.  I was like a little kid watching that movie.  I was like, "Ohhh, that's the wardrobe."  And later, "I guess she must be the witch."  And then when the lion showed up, I was like, "That's the lion!"  Well, I guess I already spoiled it by revealing that there's a lion, a witch and a wardrobe so I won't say anymore.  Put it on your queue if you haven't watched it yet.

I recommend "Prince Caspian", too.  There is a prince in there whose name is Caspian, but that's all I'm saying.  Apparently, some audiences didn't like this because it wasn't Christian enough or something.  I wasn't viewing the film in those terms, so I actually enjoyed this movie.  I never read the books either, so I was neither disappointed or appointed not disappointed in the plot.

"The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" was a bit of a letdown, even though I knew the two older kids weren't going to be in it.  I kind of feel bad for the young fans who weren't aware of this going into the film.  In addition to that, the Dawn Treader is a ship where the characters go on a voyage.  You don't actually see much of Narnia, and you see less characters than in the previous two films.

In this third installment, we are introduced to an annoying cousin not unlike the one in those Harry Potter stories.  I found him pretty damn irritating, which was the point, I guess.  I think maybe they could have used him more to show or re-introduce the Narnian characters.  "Dawn Treader" wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either.

And now, some Metallica: