There's lots on the horizon, but all points lead to Memorial Day Weekend with my other half. We're counting down the days, as per usual, 'til we both are in the same city and the same space, doing everything, nothing, and anything we can until the hours evaporate and she's back to the West Coast and we revert to the telephone, e-mail and our thoughts.
This upcoming weekend is a biggie; I've got laundry to get done, cleaning to bring in, organizing to do, food-shopping to handle, The Interpreter with a friend, some basic errands, some working out and some sun to absorb. But in the meantime, I've got workstuff to juggle, some work-related issues with our server to wrap up, and on top of that, I've got a lot of little to-do items to handle before the whistle blows and the weekend commences.
On top of that, the sports world has offered up yet again more juicy tidbits from which I've selected a couple of focus-worthy items, specifically the Yankees' ending their 10-game winning streak in Seattle, as well as the Detroit Pistons eliminating Reggie Miller and the Indiana Pacers, in that order. The former story wasn't that significant: it wasn't the Bobby Thomson shot heard 'round the world, it wasn't a World Series victory, and it wasn't the end of the Yankees' tenure as baseball demigod. However, the Yankees handed away a game, as they have done on occasion during this somewhat young baseball season; and while that's of little or no consequence to non-Yankee fans, it is of major consequence to me, as well as to my other half's father, who, upon receiving my e-mail, agreed with most of what I was thinking.
Sound boring? On the surface, perhaps...but it's really incredible that he and I have this ongoing, comfortable, friendly, genuine dialogue; despite not having met, we've exchanged ideas, pleasantries and points of view -- not all concurring, by the way -- and just talking baseball, with the smattering of politics or other news sifted in, I know that I am going to really like both he and his wife. Of course, it helps that they're "normal" in every sense; but the fact that they're also good people without ten lifetimes' worth of baggage also makes it reassuring. Between that, and the fact that their daughter makes me smile so frequently, on so many levels, really makes me wonder why it took this long to get where I should have been three years ago.
The other story of note, the conclusion to the Detroit Pistons-Indiana Pacers series, also brought with it, upon the Pistons' victory therein, the end of Reggie Miller's career. For those of you who regard professional basketball as an irrelevance -- and I largely agree with you -- Reggie Miller was the long-range shooter who led the Indiana Pacers against the Knicks in the late '90's and regularly buried incredible, ridiculous shots -- sometimes several within a few seconds on the game clock -- and accelerated the Knicks' demise from Eastern Conference respectability to League Doormat. He also mocked, ridiculed and baited Spike Lee, a former court-side regular for home games at MSG -- so the guy isn't all bad ;-) The Knicks, in large part due to Reggie Miller's play, went from a solid team to a bunch of carjackers in shorts, and I can't honestly remember the last time I voluntarily watched an entire Knicks game. This season was to be Miller's last, and since tonight's playoff loss ended the series and the season, it also put a cap on Reggie Miller's storied, yet controversial, career. I was rooting against him the whole time, and when, with less than ninety seconds on the game clock, he received a standing ovation from everyone at the Conseco Field House in Indiana this evening -- including his opponents, the Detroit Pistons -- it was fairly impressive.
On the other hand, good riddance to that alien-resembling freak.
There's more on the agenda, but it will have to wait until another time...I've got a few more quick things to wrap up before I crawl into bed with my other half and the darkness, and while I'd like to address the coming storm of Iran's and North Korea's nuclear capabilities, the Fillibuster Debate, Bush's Judicial Nominees and those pictures proving Janet Reno really is a man (um...just checking), I'll move on quickly. I do want to mention, however, that despite the final Star Wars film's release this week, "The Lord of the Lisp," (sic) I'm not especially anxious to see it. I was after seeing the fifth film in the series, "Send In The Clones," (sic) but since the hype began almost a year ago, and since every Tom, Dick and Harry Website has managed to fully outline every plot nuance from this otherwise almost Arthurian saga, I'm flaccid over the whole experience. Hence why a friend and I will swing by a nearby Humungaplex to catch Sean Penn and Nicole Kidman in The Interpreter. It won't feature light sabers, spaceships that resemble diseased penises, or much in the way of fanciful costumes, but it will be entertaining, well-crafted and not attended by teenagers who spank their monkeys to Sci-Fi mag stills of Natalie Portman in her dressing room.
That isn't to say that the last of the Star Wars films isn't going to be entertaining, engaging or worthwhile; and that isn't to say that Natalie Portman isn't "sponge-worthy." But until the hype -- and the traveling bands of Star Wars freaks walking the streets in full sci-fi garb -- ceases, I'd much prefer something a bit more tolerable. That, and Natalie Portman looks much better in person.
The last time I excitedly attended a first-day showing of a film was Pulp Fiction; that was a keeper. The time before that was a cold Christmas Day release of The Godfather Part III; that was, sadly, not. And the only other time I remember being excited attending an opening day movie release was a Valentine's Day in the early 90's to see The Silence of The Lambs. That was, by far, absolutely worth it. So I apologize in advance if I have offended anyone's sensibilities, but anyone who feels the need -- or actually thinks it's a cool, hip, intelligent thing to do -- to set up a tent outside the Ziegfield Theater, or any other theater showing the "Sith" flick, ought to go out, purchase a realistic replica of Luke Skywalker's Light-Saber (the one with all the cool sound effects), and proceed to shove it up their ass.
"Thank you for coming. We hope you enjoy the show."