|Boy eating ice cream before father swoops in to assist.|
This has gone on long enough. Someday, I will remember to bring my own (sharp) knives to Spaghetti Factory.
Which reminds me: I have a suspicion that Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events just might be the best series of books ever written, and believe me, I have read at least a billion books in my life so far.
I am fighting, strongly, the urge to cheat on my children and read on ahead. Book 8, The Vile Village, is one of the best yet - what other pseudo-children's series can you think of where the protagonists engage in ongoing dialogue about the meaning of deus ex machina?
(Which is: a classic storytelling device in which a seemingly impossible situation is abruptly solved by the sudden appearance of a contrived plot device. Oh, our heroine is about to fall off a cliff. Oh no! But fortunately...that helicopter randomly flying by is able to rescue her. Catastrophe averted. Or: oh no! The hero's sword just broke and the evil ninjas are about to defeat him...but look! Someone left a flamethrower laying around, so looks like he's gonna make it agree all. Deus ex machina: "god in the machine." No matter how horrible the situation, you can always pull the puppet strings and write your way out of it.)
Brilliant, absolutely top-notch storytelling that is frequently so maddeningly hilarious that I start laughing and getting angry I didn't write it first. So, so good. For children, for adults, for everyone who appreciates adventure, witty humor, and sad endings.
Inexplicably, I love - LOVE - "The Ballad of Michael Valentino" by the Killers, off 2011's Sawdust.
I will love you no matter how old I am, even when I'm a hundred and three.
I told my son.
When you're a hundred and three then you might not look like my Daddy anymore.
When I'm a hundred and three, then you might be bald, and that would be funny.
How does Hulk go to the bathroom? His bottom is too big to fit on the toilet.
I replied (an unnecessary preface),
That is probably the best question I've been asked all week.
And honestly, I do not know, but I want to know.
We spent too much time discussing the Winter Olympics last month, as evidenced by the UNO game we played this week. First off, I am disgruntled because it was supposed to be a quick match; an obligatory game before launching into the cinematic delight of Scorcese's Hugo. Rather, this match reminded me of why I refuse to play Monopoly: this UNO game lasted hours.* At the end, there was a medal count, which I attempted to disrupt. My wife took the Gold, my son accidentally got Silver, and my daughter and I duked it out for Bronze. I refuse to disclose the final results, but let's just say if there were podiums, I would have been standing on the floor.
Total failure was averted by the killer playlist I soundtracked the match with, which I began before we begun:
Lana Del Rey
I don't mind losing, I just don't like other people winning.
*seemed like hours
Happy weekend, all
THE GLEANER (HOMAGE TO Agnès Varda).