I read a book: The Hunger Games

I have neglected my personal blog here for some time, due to various reasons, hatred of fall and winter, etc. Time for a little reawakening now that spring approaches, so I thought a discussion of a book I recently read is as good a topic as any. I made a resolution to read at least a book per month in 2011, and though I failed in January, devouring Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games and its sequel, Catching Fire (I am 95% done with that one according to Kindle), in the last week of February makes up for it, no?

The Hunger Games is the first in a young adult trilogy that is oft compared to the Twilight series, but I am not really sure why other than that both series are for young adults, have a female protagonist, and involve a love triangle of some sort. I have never been interested in the Twilight books, and confess I haven’t read them or seen the movies. From what I have seen of the movies, however, it seems to me that they are about angsty emo kids standing around in a field and staring at each other. The Hunger Games is (at least partially) about kids struggling to survive in a field as they fight to a death. A little more interesting, huh? The premise is that the United States has been destroyed at some point and replaced with a totalitarian regime called Panem, consisting of an affluent Capitol surrounded by prison-like districts. Sick of being mined and pretty much enslaved for their resources, the districts revolted unsuccessfully at some point in the past. To punish them and remind them of the power of the Capitol, each year they must sacrifice two teens to compete in the Hunger Games, a televised fight to the death that takes our own obsession with reality competition TV to its logical extreme (granted, this plot is not exactly new and has been seen already in films such as The Running Man, but is intriguingly envisioned here). The story is told from the point of view of Katniss Everdeen, a girl who enters the games a distinct underdog but soon…well, I’ll let you find out, but you can probably guess that she’s got some skillz.

I’d really like to encourage people to read at least this first entry in the series- without giving away too much else, I’d say that it combines much of what I love about fiction and sci-fi specifically: excellently detailed worldbuilding, an emotional core, suspense, a handle of language, and a kick-ass heroine. The movie version is in pre-production, with a fairly proven director (Gary Ross of Pleasantville) and a screenplay by the author herself offering a good chance for an interesting cinematic translation (the book itself reads much like a movie). I will be eager to see how they handle the violence and still keep it ratable as PG-13, a must given the target audience. That said, except for the absence of sex and profanity, it never felt like I was reading a YA novel.

Check out The Hunger Games- it’s about $5 on the Kindle app and now’s a great time to read! You’ll be ahead of the curve (unlike me, as I still haven’t read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and am almost embarrassed to be seen reading it now) and you can sail right through all three installations without having to wait for the sequels to resolve the cliffhangers.

End of an era

I am feeling a bit sad today.  My great-uncle Jack passed away last Thursday after a long illness that pretty much everyone in the family…vigiled.  Can vigil be used as a verb?  Probably no, but general malaise is forcing me to settle for it, despite my dislike of verbing.  It’s truly the end of an era because Jack was the youngest and last of the generation of three siblings that included my Uncle Al, and Grandmother Fran, all of whom were born and lived in the house at 14 Ashmont Court, where I grew up and my parents still live.  You can see Jack’s obit here, and a piece in the Patriot Ledger, complete with video, about his amazing work with some folks at a local retirement home.

My grandmother Fran there, 2nd from left, Jack is "Me."

I have always felt a connection to Uncle Jack, like he sent me some gifts right through the gene pool- a love of music and musicals, a bit of skill with a garden.  Jack was also quite an accomplished artist (unlike me), and his paintings are still all over #14.  Here’s one:

Jack’s paintings, like the scrapbooks he kept and the musicals he produced, always convey a joy for life, a simpler life in a somewhat simpler time.

This is at St. Ann's, where I went to grammar school. The caption reads S'Wonderful- Anne.

Photo albums in white ink, with witticisms. A Jack trademark.

We’ll miss him. I am very grateful to have known and been related to him, and glad I got to spend a little time with him before he passed.

Dad in hospital.

My sister Sue is probably going to be mad on me for posting this, because she called last night and asked if we should write about my dad’s hospitalization on Facebook and I was like “Noooooooooooo.” Well, my opinion is that when something is an emergency or dire, I don’t like to put it on Facebook. She agreed, but things are much better today.

My dad basically is a machine.  He’s always going going going, and at the age of almost-70, and with some heart issues, this is starting to be a bit of a problem. Yesterday he ignored several spells of feeling short of breath and woozy, then at another my sister-in-law-ish Andrea, a nurse, took his pulse and said to call 911.  He was taken amidst much nervousness on our parts to Beth Israel, an extremely impressive place.  What he had was called non-sustained tachycardia, basically inefficient pumping of the heart, but intermittent.  They said though it was intermittent, most people don’t stay conscious with the degree he was exhibiting, so he must have a strong heart. Anyway, we are all calmed down a bit after this scare because he has made great progress.  I will let my sister Stacey take over here and post her, as always, well-composed family email:

Hello all:

Dad has made a remarkable turn-around! That third medication that he was given last night (Dofetilide) seems to have been the ticket. It is a joy to watch his NORMAL rhythm on his monitor instead of crazy and unnerving spikes every few beats of our loved one’s heart. Prayers, great care at Beth Israel, and John Sweeney Spirit have yielded a brand new day. His color is great, and he is like a (bad) nightclub act, so his sense of humor has fully rebounded as well:

Staffmember: Mr. Sweeney, will you sign here please?
Dad: Should I sign my real name?
Staffmember: (blank stare)

Nurse: Okay now we’ll just hook you up to this machine and do another EKG.
Dad: Can I buy one of those at Radio Shack?
Nurse: (crickets chirping)

But seriously, folks…he is doing so well that he could probably leave ICU at this point, but they are waiting for a room to free up for him (hopefully because of someone being discharged, of course!).  This magical medication requires a few days of observation in the hospital, so he isn’t heading back to #14 just yet. BUT normal heart rhythm, blood pressure 151/72, EKGs and echocardiogram looking good, being allowed to eat lunch after a fasting beginning at midnight…all this is good! He’s resting comfortably in bed with a Red Sox cap, a book of Irish short stories, his Kindle, and he’s waiting for a shave to be “his hanksome self.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Columbus, OH

People generally think Ohio is totally boring, but it is actually a very cool place. Well, Columbus is, anyway.

We have been here since Saturday, exploring the city and, now for Chris, doing softball stuff. I have long since learned that tournaments and I don’t totally agree. The last one I went to was Seattle, and though it was fantastic that Chris’ team won, being in a hotel for 8 nights and dealing with the unpredictibility of tournament play is pretty wearing. So, especially given how much travel we’ve already done, we agreed that I would come for the beginning of the trip, with us having time to do city stuff together and then me heading out as the pool play wraps up (they are 1-1 so far, with 2 games starting shortly today). I’m heading back on another scarily small plane tomorrow.

So, the city. Midwesterners are of course as friendly here as they are in, say, Chicago, perhaps more so; and this can be off-putting to a Northeasterner. You just have to try not to freak out when someone (not crazy, see below) talks to you on the street or when your waitress sits down at the table with you for a chat. The layout of the city is pretty easy to navigate, though we became less comfy walking as the week went on, as things can go from nice to sketch pretty quickly. The Capitol Square area is particularly interesting with its preponderance of seemingly insane people, but a lot of the city is really, really nice (specifically the revitalized Short North area). I have to mention how friendIy the city is in the other sense; there’s rainbows everywhere and it seems like every business is sponsoring the Gay World Series. Conversations with people frequently involve our saying we are here for a softball tournament and that person saying excitedly and without a hint of discomfort, “OH, YOU’RE HERE FOR THE GAY WORLD SERIES?” I would definitely come back; overall it’s a great, fun place and the bar scene is a blast, with lots of opportunities for karaoke!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

And lastly, speaking of karaoke, we did enjoy a night of it at Exile and I was impressed with how people there actually performed. Chris and I pretty much stand there and sing, and I doubt that is going to change. I felt conflicted about posting this video of someone I don’t know without his permission (he saw me videoing and clearly approved), but paraphrasing Jay Harvey, it’s like an eclectic celebration of a PRANCE. Wait for the cross-step-pose at about :20.

On “Free to Be You and Me.”

I always hate back-to-school ads for obvious reasons, and every year there is one that especially irks me.  This year it’s Target’s, which spins one of my childhood favorite songs into an anthem of consumerism.  Free to Be You and Me was part of a book, record, and TV special production created by Marlo Thomas “and Friends” along with Ms. magazine.

The intent of the project was admirably to dispel gender stereotypes that existed back in the early 70s (still do in some ways) about what a girl and boy should be.  You can imagine that for a little gay kid, the music and stories were sort of helpful- Marlo was really telling me to get down with my homo self! So, although we know that almost everything sells out at some point, it is not so pleasing to see the title song repurposed (with all girls of course, way to miss the point entirely) to show how little kids girls can…transcend their dull uniforms by buying things from Target.  Especially given the recent controversy about Target.  OK, the CEO apologized and I will still shop there, because I absolutely despise Wal-Mart.

But back to Marlo.  I am sure if Boston Public Library records exist back to the early 80′s, it is documented that I borrowed Free to Be You and Me (both the book and record) probably 23 times each.  Eventually my mom got me the 8-track. There was just something about it that made me feel…right.  So here’s a few bits of the special, which, interestingly enough, I never saw.  It aired in 1974 (I was 1) and, you know, there was no YouTube then.  What the hell did we do with ourselves?

Click here for the title song with a little annotation from this doohickey I tried out.

And William’s Doll, based on a still-popular Charlotte Zolotow picture book, is really what marks Free to Be You and Me as gaygaygay.  The story goes that William wants to play with dolls because he wants to practice in order to be a good father someday.  Yeah, I am sure that is his only reason. The audio is a bit rocky on this one. If you really want to hear it with perfect enunciation, here’s B.D. Wong performing it. Ahem.

Sung by Alan Alda? This one was relatable to me because, while not a total sissy, I did give my cousin’s Barbie Dream House more than a dismissive glance.  It was just so well-designed!  And my Death Star Space Station, though I was also a budding sci-fi geek…

…who can really blame me if sometimes I pretended that the elevator was part of Jordan Marsh and Luke and Leia were going shopping? Shut up. So anyway, William was a big ‘mo and I thank him (and his grandmother) for planting a seed of self-esteem.

Finally, this duet by Roberta Flack and Michael Jackson was pretty, but now just seems weird, given what happened.  She sings “When we grow up, will I be pretty?”

That should have been his line!

Cycle for Life 2010

As many of you know, my niece Maeve (frequently referred to as Maeve the Brave) was diagnosed at age 4 with spinal astrocytoma, a rare slow-growing form of tumor.  Maeve underwent surgery almost immediately after diagnosis and two subsequent rounds of chemo, all of which were not fun, needless to say.  However, we are immensely grateful that she is now a healthy 10 year-old, due to the support of her wonderful family and Tufts Medical Center.  Not only has she received top-notch medical care, but also wonderful support for her and her family’s struggles with her diagnosis through the Child Life Program at the hospital.

As often is to be expected when a child has these medical issues, this year saw some problems rear their scary heads, with Maeve unexpectedly experiencing a seizure this past spring (thought to be due to scar tissue around the shunt placed way back when) and then a severe reaction to the seizure medication.  Since then all is well…and here’s praying that it stays that way.

I am looking forward to my 4th Cycle for Life on September 11, 2010, itself a day to remember, in a 25-mile route winding through the beautiful North Shore communities of Marblehead, Salem, Beverly, and Manchester.  My family and I would appreciate even the smallest tax-deductible donation, $5 or $10, or whatever you want to give to support me on the day of the ride.   You can donate on my personal page here. Thanks so much.

From Left-Brother Finbar, Maeve, and cousins Lily and Abby.

My Typically American Traits

I thought I would close my thoughts on the Europe trip for now (though I have dreamed, strangely, about the trip all week) by writing about the things we do that Chris and I realized marked us in Europe as AMERICANS. Not that this is really a bad thing, of course.  I am proud of my country, and it was nice to not be received with quite the chill we experienced over there in 2005, when W was in power. That douche. Anyway, this is far from a critique of Europe, or a Rant, just a reflection on some interesting (to me) cultural differences.

1. We wear shorts.  Ok, it’s frigging hot over there during the day, and sometimes at night. Americans wear shorts everywhere. I think Europeans think they are just for children. Or that men’s legs are just not to be seen.  We wore jeans a hell of a lot more than we would normally in July, but sometimes we were just like “F&%k it, shorts it is.”

2. We tip. I worked in the service industry for 10 years, so I don’t tend to skimp on tips, unless the service is really bad.  In Holland, it’s apparently unheard of (and they appreciate it), and in Paris, they always bring you your check and there is no place to write in a tip, so you have to work that out (but they do give you your change on a nice little plate on which you can leave the expected .50 Euro coin).  London is closest to the USA in many regards, including this one, but even there they often automatically shortchange themselves by adding a 12.5% tip.  I suppose the staff might get paid more or whatnot…I don’t care, it’s important to tip.

3. We patronize American chains. We made an effort to eat in culturally appropriate places for lunch and dinner every day, but breakfast was a different story.  Especially after we were told in Paris casually that “Breakfast is until 10″ (with no mention of other meals) and we made the stupid assumption that it was free.  We showed up and unblinkingly signed the slip for 44 Euros for our little plates of eggs, bacon, and baguette, not wanting to be Ugly Americans.  But the other factor is that we both strongly favor iced coffee, and Europeans favor iced nothing. We drink it year round, and after our nights typically involved a selection of alcoholic beverages over there, drinking hot coffee seemed as always to me to be as refreshing as consuming a cup of sand. So we went to Starbucks most of the time.

4. We only went to Europe for 9 nights.  It seems that everyone, including the touring Americans we ran into, seemed to be on a leisure tour that stretched weeks, with whimsical hopping to Corsica, Morocco, or where ever. I remember as a kid, Channel 56 would run a Sunday triple feature that more often than not included a goofy Suzanne-Pleshette-on-a-Whirlwind-Tour movie called “If it’s Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium.” We were those people.  9 nights is the longest I have been away in some time.  What do these people do about their plants? Or mail? I wish I could “holiday” like these people.

5. We talk about our heritage.  I was told by TWO different Londoners (who are a very fun and friendly lot, I need to add) that I was soooo American to say something (in context, by the way, meaning Ireland was the topic of conversation) like “My family is from Cork.” Apparently, if your passport says you are American, that’s supposed to be the end of it.  This still seems strange to me.  I guess geography plays a role; I mean, if your ancestors came across the ocean to a foreign and sometimes unwelcoming land, it’s more mentionable than if you just got on a plane and started living in the gayborhood of London?

6. I can’t toast. In both Paris and London we heard the importance of making eye contact during a toast.  If you don’t, it’s vaguely insulting and leads to “seven years of bad sex.” Chris always teases me because when we toast, I often forget to drink afterward.  The emphasis on eye contact (The Londoners would good-naturedly remind us, EYES! EYES! and point at our eyes) just was an extra step that totally flummoxed me.

7. A Lack of wifi or good TV leaves us disoriented. Though we were staying in a hotel whose first floor was an Internet Cafe (sometimes) in Amsterdam, we noticed the TV was just really baaaaaaad.  It hopped from English to Dutch on a whim (I know, it’s their right), and was mostly people sitting at tables talking incessantly.  There was a fun, but strange wedding show in which the family and guests got to eviscerate the bride’s every decision.  In Paris the Internet was broken. Everyone told us this. And we amused ourselves with Law and Order in French (we kinda remembered the plots), and the stories about bombings and such on the BBC World Service, the only sometimes-available station in English, actually still sound nice and relaxing when spoken in a British Accent. “55 people were killed today when….” Awwww, that sounds nice. Arrival in London was like heaven.  Give me a TV show like From Laddess to Lady, in which young ladies compete to not be eliminated from a finishing school, host a big elaborate party where that week’s Lady gets shit-faced and passes out before the end of the event, and all have to face the stern-faced “Teachers” at the end…oh, yes, please!  You must realize that this trait is particularly a self-critique. I should access TV and the Internet less, I know.  Internet wise, I was just really enjoying the momentum of blogging and keeping up a bit with Facebook, and we like to wind down with TV.  It’s just us.

8. I write/talk about everything.  I should just frigging shut up some of the time. Like now.

Overall, I think we did a good job of fitting in, wearing solids, and going with the flow of Europe. We’ll definitely go again and try to suppress some of our Typically American Traits.  Some.

Europe Wrap-up

Here are some last pictures of the trip, including some again of Paris, our Thames river cruise (cool architecture), and our visit to the Tower of London.  There was a great weapons demonstration there with very amusing in-character squires and such. Also, we visited the Britain at War Experience- an impressive, if somewhat homespun presentation of items from the WWII era.  It’s fascinating how much of it echos the American experience of the war, but the Londoners were actually getting bombed and watching dogfights over their head.  What a crazy time.

Plotting my next trip already (well, not really, but maybe I can get the Royal College of Speech and Language Therapists to pay me to come do a SpeechTechie presentation, haha).

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

If only…

I saw this site while skimming my Google Reader, which runneth over since I naturally ignored it during our Europe trip.  I Write Like allows you to paste a chunk of your own writing (I used yesterday’s post) and you are given a sense of which well-known author your writing most resembles.  I got:

I write like
David Foster Wallace

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Clearly the site is designed to flatter.  A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again is one of my favorite essays ever, and despite the excessive use of footnotes and the, well, committing suicide thing, this result is a real compliment.  I won’t take it seriously- I am sure it was just a function of my excessively long sentences. I wouldn’t have minded getting Sedaris either. Again, woulda been a stretch of a comparison.

Priscilla and the West End

I mentioned before that upon arriving in London, the theater ads everywhere instantly made me feel at home after days of being in non-English-speaking places.  The West End itself proved to be an amazing place.  Unlike the Broadway area, everything is really compact so that it is theater next to theater etc.  Also unlike Broadway, it seems like tickets are a bit cheaper? We got our dress circle tix for Priscilla for like 60 pounds, roughly $90.  By comparison, I think our recent Promises, Promises tix were $125 for second balcony.  Although TKTS exists in London, there also seemed to be more options for getting cheap tickets (I saw Oliver tickets available for $30).  As a result, in conversations with people it seemed like everyone had seen everything (even the unfortunate Phantom sequel- Love Never Dies.  It should in some cases).  All this is significant because I will probably now be considering London an occasional destination (not only to see plays of course, also for the fun and TV and buildings and such) during school vacations that would be low season over there.

So Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.  As most know, this musical is based on a gay classic about 2 drag queens and a transsexual that journey from Sydney to Alice Springs for a gig. I have to admit I have only seen parts of the movie, but was really excited to see something that hadn’t premiered in the States yet.  While watching, I actually wondered if it would fly here given the gayness and bawdy nature of the whole thing (it actually premieres on Bway in March 2010), but in thinking this I was probably forgetting some parts of the successful Avenue Q.  Not having seen the movie made for a more surprising experience, as I really didn’t know what might be next (though I knew “Finally” would come at the end). This is of course a “jukebox musical,” a genre that includes Mamma Mia! and one I tend to dislike in general, but it totally worked for Priscilla in terms of song/plot correspondence, with “Color My World” accompanying an amazing bus-”painting” scene, “We Belong” serving as an anthem of self-acceptance, etc.  Many of my friends know I hate the Pet Shop Boys’ “Go West” with a fire-y passion, but after its use in an amazing number in Priscilla, I realize I just hate that communistic and annoying music video. The sets, costumes and staging were incredible, and you should see some of the ways they use that bus! Overall it was a really fun experience, and the audience totally got into it (with a fun participation segment for “Thank God I’m a Country Boy.)” Priscilla is pretty loosely plotted and breezy, with maybe a little too slowness in the second act, but that could be said of most shows.  The principal guys were good enough, but I have to say my favorites were the Divas (and an incredibly cute little kid).  The three Divas appear suspended above the stage frequently throughout the show, sometimes to serve as the female voice as one of the main characters lipsynched, but also just to add vocal power.  So my grade is an A-, with a definite recommendation to see it when it comes our way this Spring.  It totally made me Happy and was a great way to kick off our first night in London.

I got yelled at for taking a picture of the curtain. Well, the show hadn't started yet.

Check out this segment from the finale, you can get a hint of the music, though I think the set is toned down here.