TwoBusy: Some of these things suck more than the others (2007 Holiday Edition)

December 12, 2007

Some of these things suck more than the others (2007 Holiday Edition)

SUCK: Getting hit by a paralegal who decided to throw her car into reverse and punch the gas, rather than look behind her and calmly pull out of her spot -- which is how my workday ended yesterday. One cracked taillight, one cracked rear bumper and one significant dent in the body panel later... I'm looking at a logistical, financial and insurance hassle that, quite frankly, I hadn't anticipated when I turned off my computer and headed down to the parking lot last night.

SUCK: Potty training blows the big one. We went through it with TheHurricane, and now we're in the midst of it with Butterfly. (Rabbit has made it clear she has no interest in the process at this time.) The cool thing is that Butterfly has taken pretty quickly to the idea of peeing on the potty -- sure, there are daily accidents (is there anything that puts you in the holiday spirit more quickly than trying to scrub human urine off a wool oriental rug? For the second time that day?), but overall it's a tremendous developmental jump. The not-so-cool thing is that she's terrified of doing the poo thing, and as a result hasn't... uh... unleashed the hounds, shall we say, for five days. I'm pretty sure she's going to explode soon.

SUCK: The movie Shooter, which transformed Stephen Hunter's fantastic thriller Point of Impact into a functional-but-entirely-generic shoot-em-up action spectacular, with a functional-but-entirely-generic Mark Wahlberg playing a haunted ex-military sniper who, per Hunter's vision, should, would and could have been a career-defining role for a young Clint Eastwood-type... Viggo in full A History of Violence mode is probably a good point of reference. Instead? Another inane film bastardization of a book that deserved much, much better.

SUCK: This whole Johan Santana thing. The tension is killing me. Yeah, I know... in theory, it's extremely cool to be able to spend a baseball off-season tantalized by a blockbuster trade on this level (see: Kevin Garnett). On the other hand... the possibility that Santana might land with the Yankees just makes me nauseous, and while I'm loathe (that's right: I'm loathe) to give up a CF as dynamic and exciting as ~~a young Johnny Damon~~ Jacoby Ellsbury, the thought of a 1-2 Beckett/Santana punch is too much to pass up... and the tension of looking at ESPN.com multiple times every day to see if there's any progress is beginning to wear on me.

SUCK: You know what? I'm going to go back to the first one. I'm just really, really ticked off that anyone with the brains to function as a paralegal would do something as stupid as that. She didn't even really apologize -- just stood there talking about how she was planning to go Christmas shopping, and how this was something she didn't need... meanwhile, I'm just standing there, trying to stay calm and reasonable, picking pieces of my taillight off the ground, resisting the overwhelming temptation to just unleash all kinds of pent-up anger on her. (Good lord, did I want to unleash.) And the ironic part? We just got our other car back from the body shop last weekend. In fact, when I heard her accelerating into me and then the giant SMASH!!!! my first thoughts - beyond the obligatory "Fuck!" - were "I just got finished dealing with this crap..."

NO SUCK: 13-0. I'm just sayin'... there's good, and there's scary good. I think it's pretty clear which one we're talking about here.

NO SUCK: The joy - and really, there is no better word - on my kids' faces every night when I bring them home, walk into our living room and turn on the Christmas tree. If the sound of three little kids jumping up and down and screaming with delight, "Christmas lights! Christmas lights!" can't bring a smile to your face, then the great empty black chasm in your chest where your soul should be is even bigger than mine.

09:24 AM | Permalink

Comments

But I loooove Jacoby Ellsbury. I don't want to give him up for anyone. Anyone!

Also, I'm sorry about your car. And really impressed that you didn't unleash it on her. Because I totally would have.

Posted by:Jess | December 12, 2007 at 09:36 AM

So does that mean the littlest ones got over the Scary Santa thing? That's progress.

An ex of mine got into a car accident soon after purchasing his new car. His first thoughts were, "why can't i have nice things?"

Hopefully she'll come up 100% at fault.

Posted by:claire | December 12, 2007 at 11:19 AM

Jess -- let's just say that I was a ticking time bomb by the time I got home, and that my kids picked a very good night to be very, very good. (A couple of Ipswich Winter Ales and an hour boiling in my whirlpool tub also proved helpful.)

Claire -- The Santa thing is a work in progress. The process wasn't helped by a story we all saw on the news this morning, where a guy dressed in a Santa outfit robbed a convenience store. They had security camera footage and everything. (Not. Helpful.)

Posted by:TwoBusy | December 12, 2007 at 11:39 AM

#1 Was she on the phone? yes to "suck".

#2 Starting it now with Peanut. Yes to "suck".

#3 Watched it while in a bar. Yes to generic. Yes to "suck".

#4 No for Ellsbury. Maybe to Coco/Lester.Yes to "suck".

#5 Probably doing her makeup, too? Yes to "suck".

#6 I'll be there this Sunday. Yes to "no suck".

#7 Our tree was turned on before 6 am this morning. Yes to "no suck" (as long as its a reasonable hour).

Posted by:above average joe | December 12, 2007 at 12:48 PM

AAJ -- ooooohhh... Pats/Jets? Be sure to wear a slicker -- it'll be like a Gallagher concert, only with human blood instead of watermelons.

Posted by:TwoBusy | December 12, 2007 at 01:43 PM

Here's the deal...I am a diehard Twins fan up here in the frozen tundra. I don't care which team, you guys or the "evil empire" gets him. I want the best bang for my buck in a trade. If we give up Johann, then I want Ellsbury and Lester...throw in Crisp for good measure. I'm tired of getting ripped off because my team is a small market team...I know it could backfire and we'd get nothing but draft picks and he signs with you guys or the yanks next year. But, please...God please...be good to the Twins and give us a Christmas present fans here deserve.

Posted by:stebujiji | December 12, 2007 at 02:52 PM

Stebujiji -- If I were a Twins fan, I'd feel the same way (actually, I'm not sure I'd want Coco). But the reality of baseball economics - at least, as I understand it - is that NOBODY gives up two newly-minted, MLB-ready cheap, talented players under any circumstances.

That being said... if there's a scenario that might force an adjustment of that business sense, it'd be Johan. Honestly, I think the Twins are being very cagey and smart in waiting -- hoping that either Steinbrenner or Theo will blink and agree to either Lester/Ellsbury or Cabrera/Hughes/Kennedy. Clearly, the Yanks are capable off backing off an ultimatum if it suits their needs (see: ARod), so you can never count them out. As for the Sox...

(stomach churning again)

Posted by:TwoBusy | December 12, 2007 at 03:34 PM

I feel a little sick about losing Ellsbury, whom I *love*. I'd rather give up Lester AND Buchholtz, whom I surprisingly can't stand (yes, yes, I do not like Clay Buchholz. I have my reasons!)

That being said, yes OH HELL YES, I want Santana, and I don't want the Yanks to have him. But I said that about Gagne, too, and look how well that worked out.

Oh the image of your little kids is too cute for me to stand. Adorable.

Posted by:jonniker | December 12, 2007 at 10:02 PM

Try the sticker chart for motivation. A full week of stickers = present. Worked like a charm for us! Oh, and I big boy (girl) pants. Except for that firs time I put him in them and said, "Now tell me when you have to go pee pee!" Ten minutes later, while sitting on the couch. "I'm making peepee!!" No, dude. BEFORE.

Posted by:Xdm | December 14, 2007 at 11:31 PM

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Neilson Hubbard: I Love Your Muscles
A limp, wet noodle of an album, and a huge disappointment from one of my favorite singer-songwriter types. Admittedly, my expectations for this were high -- especially given that Hubbard had previously put out the quiet and beautifully meditative "Stars" and the often-wrenching "Why Men Fail," which is easily one of the best records you've never heard. What do we get instead? EZ listening, bland lyrics, unimaginative arrangements... by the time you reach his cover of "Lady in Red" (shudder) you may wonder what you ever saw in him in the first place.
Alcest: Souvenirs d'Un Autre Monde
This one's easy to describe -- kind of a folk/black metal hybrid that ends up sounding a lot like shoegaze. With French lyrics. Wait... where are you going? (Honestly, it's really quite lovely. And sad. Even with my dim recollection of high school-level French, I can figure out the sad part. Plus, it's pretty much a guarantee that you'll be the first kid on your block to hear it...)
Sigur Rós: Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust
Bliss. Just... bliss. And no, I don't know how to pronounce the title. And no, it couldn't possibly matter less. This is a sunnier version of Sigur Ros than we've encountered before, but no less breathtakingly gorgeous. Run, don't walk (naked, if necessary) to make this a part of your life.
Bob Mould: District Line
I picked this up when I saw him play live back in March, but it wasn't until earlier this week that it really caught and held my ear. Overall, this is a very solid album - with several songs that would sound perfectly in place with any of your favorite Sugar CDs - but two songs stand out head and shoulders above the rest. The first is "Again and Again," which I'd been mishearing (and enjoying) for months as a classic bitter Bob sendoff to an ex-lover, along the lines of "Explode and Make Up." Wrong: a closer examination (read: I started paying attention) shows that behind the gorgeous Richard Thompson-esque guitar solo and great ragged Bob voice lies nothing less than a heart-wrenching account of a life spiraling downward and out of control... in short, a suicide note. I can't remember suddenly hearing a song I've been half-listening to and GETTING it like this - and being so deeply moved - since the light turned on for me with Peter Gabriel's "Family Snapshot" back in high school. What's really impressive is that "Again and Again" bookends with "Old Highs New Lows," which is as lovely a song as he's ever recorded -- a love song, basically, to his life in music. The song blurs slightly into electronica (a relatively recent passion of Mr. Mould's, thoroughly explored on his never-to-be-heard-by-me album "Modulate"), but in the end it's just a gorgeous piece of work. Viva Bob!
The Autumns: Fake Noise From a Box of Toys
Here's the thing: I can see what they were trying to do, and I think they succeeded. But I just don't enjoy it. Over the past decade-plus, The Autumns have created some of the most strange, beautiful and drama-soaked music anywhere -- try listening to The Boy With Aluminum Stilts or Hush, Plain Girls and not be moved by the power of what you hear. That being said, it's clear they came at this new album with a different tactic... it's like they're trying to capture the dischordant sounds of a world coming apart at the seams. And they do it, with great skill. But. That strange beauty that characterized so much of their earlier music is gone... and with it, my ability to enjoy this album.

Reading is Fundamental

Koushun Takami: Battle Royale
A completely insane Japanese update on "Lord of the Flies." The writing (or the translation) is on the crude side, but there's no denying the visceral impact of a plot where, as part of a government program, 42 Japanese teenagers are dropped onto an island and told to start killing each other.
Boston Teran: Never Count Out the Dead
Another ferocious crime novel from the mysterious and psuedonymous Boston Teran -- this one featuring what may be the single most damaged mother-daughter relationship in literary history. Not for the weak of heart.
Suzanne Finnamore: Otherwise Engaged: A Novel
This was a Jonniker recommendation, and while I bought it for TheWife as a birthday gift I have to admit I was a little apprehensive about it -- most of the blurb reviews spotlighted this as chick lit in its most classic sense. Now, don't get me wrong: I enjoyed Bridget Jones' Diary (the movie, at least) as much as anyone else, and I definitely understand the appeal of the genre. But it's not something I usually stray into. Well, let me clarify: this isn't chick lit... this is fucking GOOD writing. The trappings of the plot - woman in her 30s gets engaged, has doubts, gets stressed, hurtles toward her wedding - scream chick lit, but the execution is waaaaaay beyond anything you'd associate with that diminutizing description. Finnamore has an eye for detail that is razor sharp in the sense that not only does she capture unexpected nuances in crystalline perfection, but in that the observations cut deep and true -- transforming her very funny scene-snippits into snapshots of a life gone numb with entitlement and pointless ambition and defensive sarcasm and, beneath it all, a deep and profound and nameless fear of the known and the unknown and everything in between. The fact that the novel manages to achieve all of this depth while simultaneously being funny and entertaining is just about the highest praise I can imagine. Screw genre categorization -- this is great writing.
Barry Eisler: The Last Assassin
Is it a bad sign when you're 110 pages into a theoretically fast-paced thriller and all you can think is that you wish you'd picked up something else instead? Probably. (Update: uh... yeah, that was a bad sign. What a disappointment from a usually reliable author.)
Kim Stanley Robinson: Antarctica
672 pages of ecopolitics. There's a lot to admire in this book - the in-depth portrayal of societies in microcosm, feng shui, geology/glaciology, the way global politics impact lives on a small scale, etc. - but in the end I think I admired it more than I enjoyed it. Although there was a span of about 200 pages or so where Robinson managed to weave in a pretty compelling adventure/survival story... if only more of the book had been that riveting.