Sunday, February 15, 2009
Movie Reviewer, c'est moi
At the request of a gentle reader, herewith is a review of a movie I wrote but haven't put here. Hey, it's my blog and I can do what I want here.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tonight’s movie was a sleeper of a surprise. Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett in “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” a movie that, like “The Legend of 1900,” takes an impossible premise and gets you to buy into the concept. This movie gets you to believe that a baby is born as an old man, then gets younger and younger, eventually dying of old age as a newborn.
Along the way, you get compelling but not cloying doses of romantic philosophy about life. I’m going to have to watch this again but the protagonist does quite well with accepting what he is- a biological freak. The movie has some interesting dialogue, reminiscent of the effect Beatles lyrics had on this immature, maturing writer, talking about what is, what isn’t and what you gotta accept. Do you remember “All you need is love” and “Let it be?” Let those lyrics and times percolate through your psyche again. Now you’ll comprehend the great scene where he discovers who his biological father is and, after some understandable anger, does the human thing and takes his dying father to where his father liked to be as a young boy- watching the dawn over Lake Ponchetrain.
There were some fantastic aural images- on a former tugboat recently commissioned as a US Navy vessel, they come across a series of destroyed vessels. As images of dead sailors’ arms float across the screen, he says how silent the world is; he’s a remarkable diarist. Later, as one of a series of pivotal events transpires, a hummingbird flies outside a window; he notes how he’s never seen a hummingbird that far from land. And at the end of the movie, as the love of his life (Cate Blanchett in old-age makeup doing a really terrific job as an old woman) holds him as a newborn, dying, letting go of what he can’t control, you see a humming bird outside the window again.
There’s a couple of touching scenes where the two lovers, separated by events they can’t control (she’s very young, overly vibrant as a New York dancer and he’s studious, introspective) yet they each love the other, You see Daisy saying a phrase “Good night, Benjamin” as she is in bed with some generic good-looking guy while Benjamin says the corresponding “Good night, Daisy,” as he is in bed without her.
And you can’t overlook the existential analysis of how she got injured- a series of unrelated minor events came together to ruin her dancing- she got hit by a French taxi- and she’s subsequently curt with him, yet he doesn’t abandon her. He’s got a good heart. She reciprocates by being a wonderfully loving middle-aged woman and a very tender old woman with him as a young boy. The aging hippie in me revels in the non-traditional love these two have- when she’s too young, he’s patient; when he’s too young, she’s reciprocally patient. But when they’re about right for each other, they’re crazy, happy in love. The central part of the movie is not as sappy as Titanic, yet convinces you that a one-of-a-kind love can happen. How romantic! And how Romantic, too!
The closing scenes are little vignettes that distill each character- some people are mothers (Queenie, the loving black woman who found him as an infant), some are dancers (Daisy with some very attractive and feminine dancing), some are artists (the drunken tugboat captain who is a frustrated artist, yet manages to be a real person). And the screenwriters didn’t ignore all the “little people” in the script, each member of the tugboat getting some background and seeming very real.
That canard about “no small parts, only small actors” is blaring in my consciousness- everyone on screen is real, human and perfect in their roles. I liked the black midget who takes a too-young Benjamin out to see the world and leaves him to find his own way home. The crew of the tug are real. Even Daisy’s subsequent husband is a genuine person, though his character has only a few lines. The child Daisy is a cutie with élan and sophistication. The French nurse caring for Daisy in the hospital is very much a nurse and very French. Their 12-year-old daughter is real, with adolescent behavior and speech.
The director and screenwriter throw away gems of moviedom- In Russia before the war, he meets and has an affair with a classy British woman. She’s already had her big moment in her life, having nearly swum the English Channel as a teen. Now, in her middle years, she seems a failure, only snatching something from an affair with Benjamin. Later, as Benjamin is in a diner with Daisy, he turns to leave and glances at the diner’s old black-and-white television. He sees an older version of this woman who didn’t quit, trying again as a middle-aged competitor- she swam the channel, taking more than two hours longer than her previous attempt. The unspoken message here, reflected in Benjamin’s fleeting and satisfied smile, is that we don’t end our lives after we’re no longer teen-agers. “Keep trying, keep looking and accept what is” is the message of this vignette and of the whole damned movie. It’s wonderful! But if you blink, you’ll miss this moment.
Make-up and special effects are outstanding in this effort. I’m still scratching my head at how they filmed a four-foot-six Brad Pitt with much taller adults. Sure, you give him a bald wig and some wrinkles and he can be seven years old again. But all in all, the make-up was convincing. I guess it was a CG baby because Benjamin as a newborn was impossibly ugly. But Cate Blanchett’s dying-woman makeup was great! I don’t know if they used a body double, but the past-her-prime Daisy goes to see and make love to Benjamin one more time; afterward, as she’s getting dressed, her body really looks 50-something- still attractive but saggy here and there. Or maybe it was Cate, moving like she’s old, as she climbs into her clothes: just one more memorable one-second scene.
Someone took a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald and did a really good job with the movie. I hope this gets some Oscars. Lots of realistic scenes from the interwar era, the 50’s and 60’s. The scene where the lovers go sailing in Florida waters with a space launch as background is great; even better that no one was overly didactic by pointing out the historical events, they were just there. He rides a 30’s era motorcycle and each succeeding era has him on a different motorcycle, the last one a very nicely-restored 60’s Triumph. However, the movie isn’t just a collection of good props, it’s a cohesive process that makes you say, “Yeah! What a movie!”
This movie succeeds in convincing me Benjamin lived his physical life in reverse, though he learned a lot about being old as a child. And Daisy learned a lot about being young as she got older. And a few comments about aging and life are positive. All in all, this is a movie that’ll go back to my personal future, maybe watching this again in the next segment of my life.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tonight’s movie was a sleeper of a surprise. Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett in “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” a movie that, like “The Legend of 1900,” takes an impossible premise and gets you to buy into the concept. This movie gets you to believe that a baby is born as an old man, then gets younger and younger, eventually dying of old age as a newborn.
Along the way, you get compelling but not cloying doses of romantic philosophy about life. I’m going to have to watch this again but the protagonist does quite well with accepting what he is- a biological freak. The movie has some interesting dialogue, reminiscent of the effect Beatles lyrics had on this immature, maturing writer, talking about what is, what isn’t and what you gotta accept. Do you remember “All you need is love” and “Let it be?” Let those lyrics and times percolate through your psyche again. Now you’ll comprehend the great scene where he discovers who his biological father is and, after some understandable anger, does the human thing and takes his dying father to where his father liked to be as a young boy- watching the dawn over Lake Ponchetrain.
There were some fantastic aural images- on a former tugboat recently commissioned as a US Navy vessel, they come across a series of destroyed vessels. As images of dead sailors’ arms float across the screen, he says how silent the world is; he’s a remarkable diarist. Later, as one of a series of pivotal events transpires, a hummingbird flies outside a window; he notes how he’s never seen a hummingbird that far from land. And at the end of the movie, as the love of his life (Cate Blanchett in old-age makeup doing a really terrific job as an old woman) holds him as a newborn, dying, letting go of what he can’t control, you see a humming bird outside the window again.
There’s a couple of touching scenes where the two lovers, separated by events they can’t control (she’s very young, overly vibrant as a New York dancer and he’s studious, introspective) yet they each love the other, You see Daisy saying a phrase “Good night, Benjamin” as she is in bed with some generic good-looking guy while Benjamin says the corresponding “Good night, Daisy,” as he is in bed without her.
And you can’t overlook the existential analysis of how she got injured- a series of unrelated minor events came together to ruin her dancing- she got hit by a French taxi- and she’s subsequently curt with him, yet he doesn’t abandon her. He’s got a good heart. She reciprocates by being a wonderfully loving middle-aged woman and a very tender old woman with him as a young boy. The aging hippie in me revels in the non-traditional love these two have- when she’s too young, he’s patient; when he’s too young, she’s reciprocally patient. But when they’re about right for each other, they’re crazy, happy in love. The central part of the movie is not as sappy as Titanic, yet convinces you that a one-of-a-kind love can happen. How romantic! And how Romantic, too!
The closing scenes are little vignettes that distill each character- some people are mothers (Queenie, the loving black woman who found him as an infant), some are dancers (Daisy with some very attractive and feminine dancing), some are artists (the drunken tugboat captain who is a frustrated artist, yet manages to be a real person). And the screenwriters didn’t ignore all the “little people” in the script, each member of the tugboat getting some background and seeming very real.
That canard about “no small parts, only small actors” is blaring in my consciousness- everyone on screen is real, human and perfect in their roles. I liked the black midget who takes a too-young Benjamin out to see the world and leaves him to find his own way home. The crew of the tug are real. Even Daisy’s subsequent husband is a genuine person, though his character has only a few lines. The child Daisy is a cutie with élan and sophistication. The French nurse caring for Daisy in the hospital is very much a nurse and very French. Their 12-year-old daughter is real, with adolescent behavior and speech.
The director and screenwriter throw away gems of moviedom- In Russia before the war, he meets and has an affair with a classy British woman. She’s already had her big moment in her life, having nearly swum the English Channel as a teen. Now, in her middle years, she seems a failure, only snatching something from an affair with Benjamin. Later, as Benjamin is in a diner with Daisy, he turns to leave and glances at the diner’s old black-and-white television. He sees an older version of this woman who didn’t quit, trying again as a middle-aged competitor- she swam the channel, taking more than two hours longer than her previous attempt. The unspoken message here, reflected in Benjamin’s fleeting and satisfied smile, is that we don’t end our lives after we’re no longer teen-agers. “Keep trying, keep looking and accept what is” is the message of this vignette and of the whole damned movie. It’s wonderful! But if you blink, you’ll miss this moment.
Make-up and special effects are outstanding in this effort. I’m still scratching my head at how they filmed a four-foot-six Brad Pitt with much taller adults. Sure, you give him a bald wig and some wrinkles and he can be seven years old again. But all in all, the make-up was convincing. I guess it was a CG baby because Benjamin as a newborn was impossibly ugly. But Cate Blanchett’s dying-woman makeup was great! I don’t know if they used a body double, but the past-her-prime Daisy goes to see and make love to Benjamin one more time; afterward, as she’s getting dressed, her body really looks 50-something- still attractive but saggy here and there. Or maybe it was Cate, moving like she’s old, as she climbs into her clothes: just one more memorable one-second scene.
Someone took a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald and did a really good job with the movie. I hope this gets some Oscars. Lots of realistic scenes from the interwar era, the 50’s and 60’s. The scene where the lovers go sailing in Florida waters with a space launch as background is great; even better that no one was overly didactic by pointing out the historical events, they were just there. He rides a 30’s era motorcycle and each succeeding era has him on a different motorcycle, the last one a very nicely-restored 60’s Triumph. However, the movie isn’t just a collection of good props, it’s a cohesive process that makes you say, “Yeah! What a movie!”
This movie succeeds in convincing me Benjamin lived his physical life in reverse, though he learned a lot about being old as a child. And Daisy learned a lot about being young as she got older. And a few comments about aging and life are positive. All in all, this is a movie that’ll go back to my personal future, maybe watching this again in the next segment of my life.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Umm Qasr 02132009
This is what happens in Iraq from time to time. No shadows, no sun. Just an orange color to the atmosphere, like living in a huge flourescent tube. My laptop says 02112009 for this photo, so that's when I took it. We had this condition for a couple of days.
Since today is a slow day no one will go to the port. I took advantage and slept in. Last night I sketched in ¼” scale what three side-by-side containers would look like. Briefly, two small-but-adequate 8’ x 12’ bedrooms at one end with two adjacent bathrooms, one of which is only a half-bath because I put in a washer and dryer where the tub is in the mirror-image bathroom. Next to the bathrooms, in the big, open area, I have two tiled areas, one for the main entry and the other for a Franklin stove. Next to the Franklin stove I have a sliding-glass patio door; next to the entry way is my living-room area. Just outside the bathroom with the laundry are my Bangkok computer desk and two file cabinets; in the same area against the outer wall of my bathroom is the dresser I refinished for Pense. Adjacent to the living room is my small dinette table. In the far corner is the nice dining room- an oval table, four chairs, the buffet and china closet. Back-to-back with the china closet is Bill’s old computer desk. Not placed are the étagère and my favorite old coffee table. I may try again, making my bedroom large enough to accommodate this old coffee table. The smallish bedroom might be squeezed with two twin beds, but it might be OK, too- no closet, dresser, drawers or coffee table, just two beds and some lamps on a small table. I’ll have to do some more layouts of the bedrooms, perhaps in ½” scale. There seems to be plenty of room if I just scoot the walls towards the kitchen by two or even four feet. Looking at the layout, I may even be able to shoehorn in one more bedroom, making a small-but-standardish 3BR/2BA home. Never mind that one of the bedrooms is only a half bath.
In a half hour, it’ll be lunch. Right now, Fox Movies has some slightly sappy film about a very young Audrey Hepburn growing up in postwar London- ballet, musicals and now movies. Good costumes, though a lot of smiles that approach cloying. Now a woman with a French accent is offering her the role of Gigi. Well, the girl is cute and someone has spent some resources trying to recreate postwar life. The movie feels like someone lost the last 50 pages of the screenplay. Audrey breathlessly tells someone she’s going to Hollywood to make a movie.
In a bit, I’ll go drop off my laundry and go to lunch.
1435 – My oopsie. Once again, one part of me knew it was Friday, the day I can sleep in. But another part of me forgot that today’s the day the cookhouse stops serving at noon. Thus when I went over around 1215, the door was closed. Locked to me and a few calories.
I sketched some more, some ¼” of the entire three-container house and a bit of ½” for just the bedroom, trying to fit what I want into 10’ x 12’. I like the three-container layout because I don’t have to be good. It feels like the adage about loading a van- “Throw stuff in until you run out of stuff.” Three containers allow me enough space to have two bedrooms easily and two bathrooms. More challenging is making all my stuff fit into two containers. And for grins and giggles, I sketched my hooch, too, as it is today.
Then around 1400, I got ambitious. I turned off the TV and turned on the radio. BFBS played music while I took down my shower curtain and soaked it in my plastic bucket. Without the shower curtain, I had access to the entire shower. I squirted it a bit, then attacked with Ajax and my green scrubber. The floor was amazingly dirty, having been scrubbed not so long ago. But it’s better now. Then I squirted the toilet and spread more Ajax around, scrubbing the whole thing with my green scrubber. The floor got plenty of warm water, so I squeegeed until the floor was mostly dry. Then I did the sink and mirror. In a bit, I’ll put back the laundry hamper and small collapsible table that keeps my Stars and Stripes for bathroom reading. I’ve got the shower curtain draining now, so I reckon that’ll be first. BFBS riddled us with ‘What occurs once in June, once in July and twice in August?” As I was finishing the bathroom, I knew- the letter “U.” A few minutes later, BFBS confirmed my guess. Oh, I’m such a clever fellow!
While in a homemaker mood, I also put a piece of tape on my cord from the cable descrambler into the front of my TV. Now the cord doesn’t drag into the top drawer of my dresser and it doesn’t get in the way of the picture. All in all, I’m kinda proud of myself for getting these chores done.
And that takes me to a dose of reality- if a small, 250 square foot hooch is about as much as I can maintain, how will I take care of something with 960 square feet, with kitchen, dishes, stove and other things that need regular attention? I suppose I could ask Bonnie but I’m afraid her answer would be “Eat another bacon sandwich and forget about it.” Oh, that wasn’t very charitable, was it? I have to be careful not to let myself get wound up in anger over her. Most of the time, I just want an easy life somewhere; I don’t really want to keep roasting her over my sarcasm spit. Poor girl, I wonder what she does with her life- roast me over her own variation of a vicious, bile-basted spit or is she OK with what she’s got left? I suspect she’s a lot like me- many moments are spent in her own mostly pleasant world. But occasionally, she’ll start thinking about her situation and she’ll become angry, hostile and bitter.
Umm Qasr 02122009
1610 – I had a quiet morning, cleaning up, getting laundry put away, then shaving and going to Spawar before chow. At lunch, the team who meets with Amed (not Ahmed) and I went to the pax terminal and met with him for nearly an hour. A very good meeting. We talked about stuff that pertained to Customs and got some info that the team will use in trying to make things better at the port. I gave Amed a patch from US Customs, one of the old oval patches that came on my uniforms in 1989. He seemed pleased. I hope next time I go see him, we’ll be more like colleagues than visitors.
This is the big satellite dish that’s anchored by lots of cement blocks. I may one day become a satellite dish user, too, so I wanted this as a way to remember the technique of how to keep a satellite firm to the ground. Doesn’t look too difficult- one-inch angle iron frame with the legs for the tripod screwed in.
Came back, did my timesheets (very important, if I want to get paid) then slipped over to the smoke pit for a small cigar. Carlie and a few of the lads were there. Heskette came along, meowed for food but was OK with just sitting on my lap. She got playful, rolling over and chewing on my hand while she boxed my hand with no claws. Finished my cigar, came back to my hooch and taped some plastic over the non-functioning fan in my bathroom. Now maybe I won’t have so many mosquitoes in here at night. Last night I got three bites.
Fox Movies has an old Robin Williams film, “One Hour Photo.” In a bit, I’ll get ready for dinner, then back to some chill-out time.
1847 – Missed some of Fox Movie’s “Smilla’s Sense of Snow” because I went to chow. Maybe it’ll be on another time. In a few minutes, I’ll go to our weekly team meeting and see what I’ll be doing tomorrow.
2145 – 884 games, 453 wins. Darn. Came back from sending Jesse his photos and stopped at the smoke pit. Bought an orange drink and a liter of half cream milk. Chatted awhile, then saw the door open at my neighbors, so I stopped in for some hookah and a bit of a Vin Diesel movie. After a bit, I excused myself and came to my hooch for my dessert, some apple pie from the chow hall and some of my milk. Hey, the apple pie has too many carbs, so I moderate my diet by adding good stuff- milk.
MBCMax has “Pirates of the Carribean” and I’ll watch that for awhile. I may chill out awhile, then try to get some sleep at a decent hour so I can get up early tomorrow. Maybe I’ll write some more, or start sketching my three-container home.
This is the big satellite dish that’s anchored by lots of cement blocks. I may one day become a satellite dish user, too, so I wanted this as a way to remember the technique of how to keep a satellite firm to the ground. Doesn’t look too difficult- one-inch angle iron frame with the legs for the tripod screwed in.
Came back, did my timesheets (very important, if I want to get paid) then slipped over to the smoke pit for a small cigar. Carlie and a few of the lads were there. Heskette came along, meowed for food but was OK with just sitting on my lap. She got playful, rolling over and chewing on my hand while she boxed my hand with no claws. Finished my cigar, came back to my hooch and taped some plastic over the non-functioning fan in my bathroom. Now maybe I won’t have so many mosquitoes in here at night. Last night I got three bites.
Fox Movies has an old Robin Williams film, “One Hour Photo.” In a bit, I’ll get ready for dinner, then back to some chill-out time.
1847 – Missed some of Fox Movie’s “Smilla’s Sense of Snow” because I went to chow. Maybe it’ll be on another time. In a few minutes, I’ll go to our weekly team meeting and see what I’ll be doing tomorrow.
2145 – 884 games, 453 wins. Darn. Came back from sending Jesse his photos and stopped at the smoke pit. Bought an orange drink and a liter of half cream milk. Chatted awhile, then saw the door open at my neighbors, so I stopped in for some hookah and a bit of a Vin Diesel movie. After a bit, I excused myself and came to my hooch for my dessert, some apple pie from the chow hall and some of my milk. Hey, the apple pie has too many carbs, so I moderate my diet by adding good stuff- milk.
MBCMax has “Pirates of the Carribean” and I’ll watch that for awhile. I may chill out awhile, then try to get some sleep at a decent hour so I can get up early tomorrow. Maybe I’ll write some more, or start sketching my three-container home.
Umm Qasr 02092009
Slept in a bit, watched an English-language program, “France 24,” on one of the channels I found through surfing. Sarkozy is in Baghdad today on an unannounced visit. Australia is trying to find some arsonists who may have set fires in Victoria. Israel is voting today. Iran is celebrating 30 years since the Khomeni uprising. All in all, this is a pretty good news channel. And if the news reader is a pretty blonde with a classy British accent, who’s to find fault with that?
As I was waking up, in my mind I was writing more in my “Make yourself comfortable” story. Like many dreams, this one’s details faded as I awoke. However, I recall that my small son was candid and my ex was desperately balancing contrition with knee-jerk nastiness with me. One part of her wanted to apologize for her behavior but another part couldn’t admit to anything wrong, ever. If I could get the feeling of this conversation back, it would be good reading.
I wrote more, in an ongoing series called “For Me” because the series is, as the discerning reader can easily discern, for me. The germ of today’s “For Me” was that small part about writing, dreaming, writing while dreaming and dreaming of writing.
Went to check emails then had lunch. Emails included two from the useless POS that’s sitting in for Blaine. Lunch was good- spaghetti, brussel sprouts and watermelon for dessert. In 40 minutes, I’ll walk to the helipad and meet the group going to the port.
Just now, a Merlin flew over my hooch, landing at the helipad 50 meters away. With the window open for ventilation, I got a lot of noise from the monstrous motors holding up the helicopter. By the time I got to the window, sliding it shut, I was standing in a small sandstorm blowing in from the rotor wash. Hoo boy! Dat one big ol’ buncha helicopter and tons of sand out there!
1730 – At our regular 1600 meeting, the Major said he’d been talking with our Basrah Colonel and someone was making noises about sending this detachment to a land border site. More rumbles about getting another BEA for this site but the one guy in Basrah ended up in Baghdad. All these noises are the result of a VIP visit – something to do with possible Japanese investment in this port.
At 1600, I was in the smoke pit when a Merlin flew so low I could see the gunner and waved to him. The helo blew down our cammo netting and sent an aluminum chair into me. Heskette was with me, so I picked her up but she got antsy so I set her down.
Tomorrow the team will go to Bucca at 0830. I offered to stay back with the major so he could get some info on the political situation in the port. He said he doesn’t need me so I’ll stay back. If the weather holds up, I’ll go for chow soon, then maybe emails and at 1900, I’ll try for one more cigar at the smoke pit.
2400 – 448 wins out of 871 games and still stuck at 51%. Maybe tomorrow?
As I was waking up, in my mind I was writing more in my “Make yourself comfortable” story. Like many dreams, this one’s details faded as I awoke. However, I recall that my small son was candid and my ex was desperately balancing contrition with knee-jerk nastiness with me. One part of her wanted to apologize for her behavior but another part couldn’t admit to anything wrong, ever. If I could get the feeling of this conversation back, it would be good reading.
I wrote more, in an ongoing series called “For Me” because the series is, as the discerning reader can easily discern, for me. The germ of today’s “For Me” was that small part about writing, dreaming, writing while dreaming and dreaming of writing.
Went to check emails then had lunch. Emails included two from the useless POS that’s sitting in for Blaine. Lunch was good- spaghetti, brussel sprouts and watermelon for dessert. In 40 minutes, I’ll walk to the helipad and meet the group going to the port.
Just now, a Merlin flew over my hooch, landing at the helipad 50 meters away. With the window open for ventilation, I got a lot of noise from the monstrous motors holding up the helicopter. By the time I got to the window, sliding it shut, I was standing in a small sandstorm blowing in from the rotor wash. Hoo boy! Dat one big ol’ buncha helicopter and tons of sand out there!
1730 – At our regular 1600 meeting, the Major said he’d been talking with our Basrah Colonel and someone was making noises about sending this detachment to a land border site. More rumbles about getting another BEA for this site but the one guy in Basrah ended up in Baghdad. All these noises are the result of a VIP visit – something to do with possible Japanese investment in this port.
At 1600, I was in the smoke pit when a Merlin flew so low I could see the gunner and waved to him. The helo blew down our cammo netting and sent an aluminum chair into me. Heskette was with me, so I picked her up but she got antsy so I set her down.
Tomorrow the team will go to Bucca at 0830. I offered to stay back with the major so he could get some info on the political situation in the port. He said he doesn’t need me so I’ll stay back. If the weather holds up, I’ll go for chow soon, then maybe emails and at 1900, I’ll try for one more cigar at the smoke pit.
2400 – 448 wins out of 871 games and still stuck at 51%. Maybe tomorrow?
Umm Qasr 02082009
1255 - Since I took my shower last night, after buzzing my hair, I slept in a wee bit, hitting the snooze button a few times. I shaved and waxed my moustache. Yes, it’s looking veddy good these days with adequate waxing.
For 0830, I was out by the helipad. We left for the port and observation of the arriving ferry. We observed nothing because the ferry wasn’t there. The tugboat that nudges the ferry to the pier was tied up where the ferry should be and the ferry’s satellite dish was on the ground, still wired up. We presumed the ferry wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The major fielded some questions from one of the casual laborers on the dock- “Can you help my uncle get his green card?” We shook hands and came back to the camp.
This is the building in the port in the container yards. Men congregate to find labor. Behind this building is a place where a vendor sells drinks and food. The identical portraits are of five of Mohammed’s grandchildren, five subsequent leaders of Islam. I may not have the story quite right. Apparently you’re not supposed to have a depiction of Mohammed but you can have images of others whom you revere.
I checked my emails- nothing useful there. I went to visit Dave the Turner Maintenance supe and had a cuppa with him. Then I stopped by the tailor and asked about getting some embroidery done; he doesn’t do anything like that but I got an invitation to watch some TV and have some hookah. I did both. The hookah was like I remembered from Gannon- tasty and easy to inhale. The TV was OK- some sort of killers with bulging pectorals were in league with gummint baddies. I didn’t pay much attention to the movie. One of the guys got tired of the movie and lay down on a cot for a nap, about a foot behind me. I stayed about 20 minutes, then greeted Ricky, one of the new NCOs.
I walked to the NAAFI smoke pit and had a cigar with Carlie. Well, I had a cigar, she just chatted with me. Heskette got some doggie treats, meowed for more but stopped meowing quickly enough and climbed up on my lap for a nap. This time she laid her head off the side of my lap. I thought that might be OK for a bit but her vertebrae weren’t designed for long-term tippy-over stretching like that. Sure ‘nuff, after a couple of minutes, she slid off my lap and lay on the floor of the smoke pit for a further nap.
Went to lunch and told my “Gunny and the Goldfish” joke getting some appreciative chuckles. Al sat at the next table but didn’t have much going on.
Back in my hooch, I found a movie with Nicholas Cage in which he’s a magician that has a genuine talent for foreseeing the future but only for a few minutes. Right now, the pretty girl stopped him from drinking some drugged orange juice. We’ll see how the movie pans out.
I believe I’ll take my boots off and rest a bit, then maybe clean my rifle. I have a few other things I’d like to do- work on my sketches for a container home, read about the Second Crusade, more about post-WWI Iraq, and clean my hooch. Right now, my hooch is pretty clean, though it’s been a week since I last scrubbed the shower. Should you scrub showers more often? I dunno, I don’t do so at home.
1615 – Missed the 1600 meeting. Hope Al was there and will fill me in on what I missed. The day was pretty nice, so my food-induced coma kept me zonked until after the meeting. I wouldn’t have done this on purpose. I try to participate in as much as I can with the team.
“A Beautiful Mind” is on the tube right now. The commercials are very brief, just two short ones, one for KFC spicey hot chicken and another for a man’s hair product. Now I’m going to have to track what gets sold here. And who’s in the commercials. The KFC commercial had a guy with the Arafat shave and long scraggly hair in some bright red clothes. He takes a bite of the chicken and immediately takes a long belly-flop on snow into a snow bank. He gets up, goes back for more chicken. Then we see a bunch of people sliding on their bellies over snow, presumably for an imminent plunge into many snow banks. The second commercial had this male model with perfectly-falling hair doing a few things to emphasize how perfect his already too-perfect hair is- dancing with the energy only a male model can have, shaking his head in dealing with other people, thereby showing the world how his use of a hair shampoo left his hair cascading around his head and life. The guy seems a bit too metrosexual, if not gay but maybe that’s just my bias against advertising compounded with my lack of understanding of this culture.
2236 – Watching movies on TV. Ben Stiller is getting together with Jennifer Aniston in some romantic chick flick. Oh, the credits just started rolling. I thought I detected some too-thick French accent: it’s Hank Azaria doing the waa-aaay too French ag-zehnt, yew knew? Like Peter Sellers accent on steroids.
Got to 434 wins out of 840 games in Hearts. When will I hit that magic 52%? Oh, I reckon we all need goals in life, even if this one of mine is a bit on the “so-what” side.
At chow tonight, the XO told me the team is going to Bucca tomorrow at 0645. So I reckon my day will be uneventful tomorrow. If I hook up with anyone going to the port, that’ll be fine but I may spend my day lolling around here. Maybe I’ll write or blog or sift through my photos. The nap I had this afternoon seems to have kept me awake for awhile.
Earlier, I went to the smoke pit where Carlie had made a “Happy Birthday” banner for one of the lads who’s 24 today. She hung some chem. Lights from the net, too, making the dreary unpainted wood nailed over a pile of pallets seem festive. I sat around and gave Heskette a few bits of my steak from tea and the last of the baggie with kitty treats and one whole doggie treat. When Carlie brought out her cake to share with one of the other lads, Heskette was eyeballing the cake very, very seriously. “Hey, how come I didn’t get any cake? What, just because I’m one of the feline citizens of Iraq, I can’t have any cake?”
For 0830, I was out by the helipad. We left for the port and observation of the arriving ferry. We observed nothing because the ferry wasn’t there. The tugboat that nudges the ferry to the pier was tied up where the ferry should be and the ferry’s satellite dish was on the ground, still wired up. We presumed the ferry wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The major fielded some questions from one of the casual laborers on the dock- “Can you help my uncle get his green card?” We shook hands and came back to the camp.
This is the building in the port in the container yards. Men congregate to find labor. Behind this building is a place where a vendor sells drinks and food. The identical portraits are of five of Mohammed’s grandchildren, five subsequent leaders of Islam. I may not have the story quite right. Apparently you’re not supposed to have a depiction of Mohammed but you can have images of others whom you revere.
I checked my emails- nothing useful there. I went to visit Dave the Turner Maintenance supe and had a cuppa with him. Then I stopped by the tailor and asked about getting some embroidery done; he doesn’t do anything like that but I got an invitation to watch some TV and have some hookah. I did both. The hookah was like I remembered from Gannon- tasty and easy to inhale. The TV was OK- some sort of killers with bulging pectorals were in league with gummint baddies. I didn’t pay much attention to the movie. One of the guys got tired of the movie and lay down on a cot for a nap, about a foot behind me. I stayed about 20 minutes, then greeted Ricky, one of the new NCOs.
I walked to the NAAFI smoke pit and had a cigar with Carlie. Well, I had a cigar, she just chatted with me. Heskette got some doggie treats, meowed for more but stopped meowing quickly enough and climbed up on my lap for a nap. This time she laid her head off the side of my lap. I thought that might be OK for a bit but her vertebrae weren’t designed for long-term tippy-over stretching like that. Sure ‘nuff, after a couple of minutes, she slid off my lap and lay on the floor of the smoke pit for a further nap.
Went to lunch and told my “Gunny and the Goldfish” joke getting some appreciative chuckles. Al sat at the next table but didn’t have much going on.
Back in my hooch, I found a movie with Nicholas Cage in which he’s a magician that has a genuine talent for foreseeing the future but only for a few minutes. Right now, the pretty girl stopped him from drinking some drugged orange juice. We’ll see how the movie pans out.
I believe I’ll take my boots off and rest a bit, then maybe clean my rifle. I have a few other things I’d like to do- work on my sketches for a container home, read about the Second Crusade, more about post-WWI Iraq, and clean my hooch. Right now, my hooch is pretty clean, though it’s been a week since I last scrubbed the shower. Should you scrub showers more often? I dunno, I don’t do so at home.
1615 – Missed the 1600 meeting. Hope Al was there and will fill me in on what I missed. The day was pretty nice, so my food-induced coma kept me zonked until after the meeting. I wouldn’t have done this on purpose. I try to participate in as much as I can with the team.
“A Beautiful Mind” is on the tube right now. The commercials are very brief, just two short ones, one for KFC spicey hot chicken and another for a man’s hair product. Now I’m going to have to track what gets sold here. And who’s in the commercials. The KFC commercial had a guy with the Arafat shave and long scraggly hair in some bright red clothes. He takes a bite of the chicken and immediately takes a long belly-flop on snow into a snow bank. He gets up, goes back for more chicken. Then we see a bunch of people sliding on their bellies over snow, presumably for an imminent plunge into many snow banks. The second commercial had this male model with perfectly-falling hair doing a few things to emphasize how perfect his already too-perfect hair is- dancing with the energy only a male model can have, shaking his head in dealing with other people, thereby showing the world how his use of a hair shampoo left his hair cascading around his head and life. The guy seems a bit too metrosexual, if not gay but maybe that’s just my bias against advertising compounded with my lack of understanding of this culture.
2236 – Watching movies on TV. Ben Stiller is getting together with Jennifer Aniston in some romantic chick flick. Oh, the credits just started rolling. I thought I detected some too-thick French accent: it’s Hank Azaria doing the waa-aaay too French ag-zehnt, yew knew? Like Peter Sellers accent on steroids.
Got to 434 wins out of 840 games in Hearts. When will I hit that magic 52%? Oh, I reckon we all need goals in life, even if this one of mine is a bit on the “so-what” side.
At chow tonight, the XO told me the team is going to Bucca tomorrow at 0645. So I reckon my day will be uneventful tomorrow. If I hook up with anyone going to the port, that’ll be fine but I may spend my day lolling around here. Maybe I’ll write or blog or sift through my photos. The nap I had this afternoon seems to have kept me awake for awhile.
Earlier, I went to the smoke pit where Carlie had made a “Happy Birthday” banner for one of the lads who’s 24 today. She hung some chem. Lights from the net, too, making the dreary unpainted wood nailed over a pile of pallets seem festive. I sat around and gave Heskette a few bits of my steak from tea and the last of the baggie with kitty treats and one whole doggie treat. When Carlie brought out her cake to share with one of the other lads, Heskette was eyeballing the cake very, very seriously. “Hey, how come I didn’t get any cake? What, just because I’m one of the feline citizens of Iraq, I can’t have any cake?”
