halloween movies

Herewith, a short list of my favorite horror/suspense movies, just in time for Halloween. Some people think horror movies are all gorefests, but I think there's actually a lot of variety within the genre. Of the titles on my list, some scared the living daylights out of me (Alien). Some were genuinely creepy without resorting to gratuitous violence or people jumping out of shadows (The Vanishing). Some are nightmarish in form and structure (Jacob's Ladder). And some have images that have burned themselves into my brain (Halloween, The Exorcist, The Thing).

Probably the first scary movie I remember at all was The Exorcist. I only saw parts of it on TV at my grandma's house back when I was eight or nine years old. I desperately wanted to watch the movie, but it was difficult with a bunch of meddling parents around who definitely did not approve! I seem to remember telling my parents, who were in the kitchen at the time, that if they heard any screaming, not to worry...it was just the TV! (that strategy didn't work too well, if I recall...)

Feel free to dispute or suggest other titles...

1. Halloween
2. The Exorcist
3. The Thing (John Carpenter)
4. The Fly (David Cronenberg)
5. Alien
6. Dawn of the Dead
7. The Vanishing (Dutch version - NOT the Jeff Bridges adaptation)
8. Jacob's Ladder

weekend recap

Friday I had the day off for "tri college day" - a day when the three local colleges - Loras, Clarke, and UD, in a rare demonstration of unity - decide to cancel classes (why, I'm not sure...but I'm not complaining!) As it turned out, Friday was a glorious autumn day - blue skies galore. Nicky and I spent the better part of the afternoon outside shooting the fall colors, first at the arboretum, then at the Swiss Valley Nature Preserve. At Swiss Valley, I ran into Gerry Zuercher, an environmental science instructor at school. He and a student were trout fishing, and as I walked up to chat I noticed Gerry was gutting a small trout. Of course, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to snap a few shots...this was much more interesting than a bunch of old trees! Nicky, on the other hand, kept her distance!

After the hike I met LeAnn at my place, and we drove to Galena to visit the Galena Cellars. Tucked inside the massive flood walls that stand at the entrance to Main Street, this was one of the few shops I had never set foot in. The shop sells wines made locally. As you might guess, a great number are of the sweet variety, although they also had a good number of dry and semi-dry reds and whites. These are made from grapes and juice from across the US, although there is a vineyard near Galena that also grows grapes. LeAnn had regaled me with tales of generous samples - half a glassful, six for 2 dollars! - but once we bellied up to the bar, the reality was more quotidian. Even so, I had a blast selecting six wines to sample from the list of two or three dozen varieties. We eventually took home a bottle of dry white wine that was quite tasty - not too sweet or cloying.

For dinner we walked down the street to Cannova's, which is hands-down my favorite restaurant in Galena. It's a charming little pizzeria - there was a group of people standing outside the doors at 5 pm waiting for it to open. What's funny about Cannova's is that I grew up on it - there was a Cannova's in Freeport in the late seventies (still there for all I know), and my father - a lover of pizza and passionate about places he thought did it right - would take my Mom and I there often. I don't remember much about the place in Freeport, other than it lacked the linen tablecloths and candles that the Cannova's in Galena currently sports.

On Saturday my friends Maureen and Joe and their son Killian came by to visit. I had a mortifying moment when, while introducing LeAnn to Mo and Joe, I managed to temporarily forget her name! And as scary as that sounds, this also happened one other time with someone else I was dating for six months. I have no good reason to explain this (and yes, I did mention this after the fact to LeAnn...she was very gracious!). Someone - anyone - please shoot me if it happens again.

Later that night LeAnn and I went to see A History of Violence. I thought it was ok - good if you're looking for an entertaining thriller, but not as innovative as I thought it was going to be. The acting was great - William Hurt and Ed Harris were terrific bad guys (for some reason I confuse Ed Harris with Jon McCain - why?), and Viggo Mortensen did a great job shedding his image as a Lord of the Rings prince-geek. But I have high expectations of director David Cronenberg. His remake of The Fly is still one of my favorite horror movies, primarily for the utterly bleak and unsentimental ending - one of the best of all time, right up there with Vertigo, Chinatown, and Menace II Society (that would be a great discussion thread sometime...best movie endings of all time!)

giving back

My cousin Stuart wrote a wonderful blog recently about a book called The Boxcar Children (see Sept. 29). Stu starts the blog by mentioning that he owes a debt of gratitude to the writer, who managed to capture the interest of his son who, up to that point, had shown little interest in reading. And when I think about it, I feel the same way...I am so grateful to all of the artists, musicians, writers and filmmakers who have moved me in one way or another over the years.

For too long, I have been a passive consumer, content to read the books, watch the movies, and listen to the music. It's ironic, because when I was younger, one of my favorite things to do was draw. I could entertain myself for hours drawing - mostly airplanes, rockets, and spaceships. And, what's more, I *loved* art class. Some of my most vivid memories from elementary school involve art projects I was especially proud of, like the purple mountain I painted in fifth grade, or the linocut of Mario (from Mario Brothers) when I was in seventh. I also had quite an opinion about what I liked and didn't!

Looking back, it seems obvious that art was going to play a major role in my life somehow. But then, at some point, I discounted the possibility that art could translate into a career - I think it was around eighth grade. I haven't spent too much time thinking about why this happened, although I can speculate: no-one actively encouraged me to think in those terms; I didn't personally know any artists or musicians who could serve as a role model; I had friends my age who I considered more talented (One of my friends, Jim, had a preternatural ability to draw airplanes in glorious detail, and he made the most amazing, imaginative things out of legos. He had what Howard Gardner would consider "spatial intelligence" in spades (Gardner being the author of Multiple Intelligences). Jim also happened to be a huge ass most of the time. But a very talented ass! I was, needless to say, green with envy.

It wasn't until graduate school - when I decided to pursue a career as a museum curator - that I decided I could make a living by studying art, taking care of it, and sharing it with others. This was my compromise with myself - my way of involving myself in the art world, but in a scholarly, "serious" way. I didn't think of it in those terms, of course. At the time, I thought I was pursuing my dream. But only a few years after graduating from KU, I realized that I had misjudged myself (what a bad feeling that is). My passion did not lie in studying art (even though I loved it), or working in a museum. It was *doing* it - actively participating in the creative process. It took me several more years to own up to this realization and give up my job at ExhibitsUSA.

I'm disappointed that it took me so long to figure this out. And I'm still not making a living by being creative. However, I do get my fix on the side with photography, web page design, and even this blog. I know now that it's not about making a living (although that would be nice, and I still consider going back to school for graphic design or architecture). Rather, it's about giving back to the world. That was Stu's conclusion on how we repay our debts to the artists and writers we love. I totally agree. This perspective is incredibly liberating for someone like me. So it seems I owe a debt of gratitude not only to all those artists and writers, but to Stu as well.

I also realize, in reading Stu's entries, how lopsided and self-centric (is that a word?) my life is...the life of a 36 year old bachelor. No wife, no kids, no house. I am blessed with my family and friends, of course, and I do not mean to belittle their place in my life. But I also feel restless...I'm ready to get married and, God willing, have a family. I sincerely hope that it happens someday - hopefully sooner rather than later - but I also recognize that I'm still single, at least in part, because I've made some poor choices in the past *and* I'm very picky. It's true. I admit it. Not sure where that leaves me now, but I do have faith that I get what I need when I need it. How's that for optimism? :-)

E.V.O.O.

I am wiped. Long day at work...seemed like anything that could go wrong, did. Fortunately, there was a silver lining. Paul and Amy invited Nicky and I over to their house for dinner. Mary Anne was there, too. It felt great to unwind and relax among friends. What a blessing.

Here's an interesting article about Rachel Ray in the New York Times. I didn't know that she has no formal training as a chef, much to the chagrin of professional cooks everywhere. Goes to show you where personality will get you! I'm not one of the slobbering hordes of men who find RR "hot" (although, again, I was surprised to find out she's 37!) I DO think that she's photogenic, full of perk, and appealing to people who want to making cooking a part of their lives without dedicating their lives to it. As the New York Times article points out, her appeal is not about fancy dishes. She represents the idea that you can make a good meal without exotic ingredients. Maybe not in thirty minutes, as her show promises, but close. This is the same philosophy that Mark Bittman, writer of my favorite cookbook, promotes in "How to Cook Everything." I like that concept. What I don't get is why the NYT decided to print such an unflattering photo of her with the article. She looks like a vampire!

Time to play Katamari...

ghost stories

Just finished uploading the photos from my trip to Portland, Oregon. I'm happy with how they turned out, although I wish I'd taken more people pics in retrospect. I struggle with portraits - I think I'm too self-conscious, perhaps, when taking pics of people I don't know well. It's so intimate! At least, it feels that way when I take pictures (get your mind outta the gutter!) I suppose that's because I eschew the standard group pose and go for the small moments when people have their guard down, if that makes any sense. Anyway, the upshot is that I have very few people pics in the bunch, and I wish I'd taken more.

I still have my cold. Still coughing, blowing my nose, and generally sounding miserable, like a hoarse zombie. I bought some cold medicine at Target last week and had to have my driver's license scanned to make sure I wasn't a meth addict before I could make the purchase. What I want to know is, does this affect my credit report? *laugh*

I'm contentedly munching on a landjaeger that I picked up yesterday at one of my favorite places in the world, Baumgartner's Cheese Store and Tavern in Monroe, Wisconsin (landjaeger is a spicy sausage stick, not unlike a Slim Jim, but much, much better. The word is German and means "land hunter"). The weather was so spectacular yesterday that I talked Mom and Nicky into making a roadtrip with me. Baumgartner's is a family tradition - I've been going there with my family for as long as I can remember, and I think my Mom and Dad have been as well. The place was packed yesterday - I was surprised, since it was Sunday afternoon and I didn't expect much of a crowd. I mentioned this to my Mom, who said that she remembered when the only people you'd find in the bar were four old guys playing euchre in the corner! The place opened in 1921, and I swear the place hasn't changed a bit since then (not that I'd know...). Among its charms: an oversized mural of Switzerland that details the demographic and religious composition of each state in the country; a painted coat of arms for each county in Switzerland; a mounted fourteen point buck (if I remember correctly) hanging above the bar, with a sign that painstakingly details the day, time, shooter, location, and gun used; and, of course, the "almost world famous" cheese sandwiches served on wax paper.

After we had our fill of sandwiches and chili, we went to the Swiss Colony outlet, where Mom stocked up on petit-fours, and Brennan's, which is a kick-ass grocery store that has a fantastic selection of local produce, cheese, beer, and even maple syrup (yum!)

Working backwards into the weekend, LeAnn came by on Saturday evening and joined my Mom and I for dinner at my place. I always get the urge to cook when the leaves start to fall, so for dinner I made cream of butternut squash soup (the secret ingredient are granny smith apples). LeAnn brought over a pie AND pumpkin bars, grossly flaunting my request for chocolate! I didn't complain, though...the pumpkin bars were delicious, even if they weren't homemade! (Not that I would've known...LeAnn brought them in a pyrex container at the behest of her grandma, who told her that it wasn't acceptable to bring the bars in a box from HyVee!)

After dinner, LeAnn and I watched Sideways, which I very much enjoyed a second time around, and then played a little Katamari. Have I mentioned I'm hooked? There is something incredibly satisfying about rolling up a cow, dolphin, or pile of firewood!

To be honest, I can't remember what I did Friday night. Oh, I remember...I watched Shane! What knocked me out about the movie was the scenery - specifically, the Grand Tetons. They make a breathtaking backdrop to the drama.

And last night, I watched Solaris. You may remember the movie - a few years ago Steven Soderbergh and George Clooney remade it (with a resounding "thud" at the theaters). I watched the original version, which was filmed in Russia in 1972. I saw the Clooney version when it came out, but I enjoyed the original more. A lot of critics have dubbed the movie the Russian answer to 2001: A Space Odyssey, but J. Hoberman of the Village Voice mentioned that the movie actually has more in common with Hitchcock's Vertigo, and I agree. In a nutshell, the story is about a space station in which the crew are suffering delusions and slowly abandoning their posts or committing suicide. A psychiatrist is dispatched to investigate, and shortly after he arrives he encounters his dead wife, who committed suicide ten years before. I won't reveal any more, but I will say that even though the plot sounds like a dozen other "haunted house in space" horror flicks, it is anything but. It's actually a very thoughtful, elegiac rumination on love, dreams, consciousness and free will. Highly recommended.

Strangely enough, I recently finished a book whose themes dovetail nicely with Solaris: Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis. Ellis is best known for American Psycho, but this is the first book of his I've read. It's a strange mix of postmodern autobiography and Stephen King horror. The story is told in the first-person by a character named Bret Easton Ellis, and at first the book reads like an autobiography. But the tale quickly turns surreal as he becomes haunted, first by Patrick Bateman, the psychotic killer from American Psycho, and then his dead father. There are a few sections of the book where Ellis (the writer) literally separates from Ellis (the character/narrator), and I found those sections the weakest. But by the end of the book Ellis shakes loose the po-mo trickery and offers some touching and thoughtful passages about his relationship with his father and son. If it sounds unlikely, well, you'll just have to see for yourself. I'd definitely read it again, though.

smurfageddon

In case you haven't heard already, UNICEF is making headlines this week with a commercial they've released in Belgium that depicts a Smurf village being bombed to smithereens. Yes, you've read that right. According to an article on the CBS website, the intent was to shock a complacent public into supporting a UNICEF initiative to assist ex-child soldiers in Africa. As you can expect, it's getting quite a reaction. Apparently we've become so complacent and inured to images of suffering and violence that it takes a smurf armageddon to stir our sense of right and wrong. How sad.

You can see the video here.

home again

There are few greater pleasures than returning home after an extendend absence. I'm comfortably ensconced in my bedroom once more, feeling quite content. The trip home yesterday was unremarkable, if long. I read an entire book on the return flight - Cormac McCarthy's No Country for Old Men. It's somewhat of a departure from his existential westerns - this is more along the lines of existential pulp fiction. The basic story is a tale of a man named Moss, who finds a suitcase full of drug money and claims it as his own, thereby setting off a chain of events with disastrous results. I loved it - once again McCarthy has written one of the most compelling and frightening villans in modern literature - this time a man named Chigurh. And the dialogue just sings. Take this passage, when Sheriff Bell arrives at a crime scene with multiple bodies...

Wendell leaned and spat. Somebody's been here before us.
I'd say so.
You think he was packin the money?
I'd say there's a good chance of it.
So we still ain't found the last man, have we?
Bell didn't answer. He rose and stood looking out over the country.
It's a mess, aint it Sheriff?
If it aint it'll do until a mess gets here.

p. 75, Knopf Advance Reader's Edition.

Can't you just hear Clint Eastwood spitting that out? Thankfully, the book made the time pass quickly and took my mind off the people who managed to recline their seats within a hair's breadth to my nose. Well, I could be exaggerating. But only a little.

I'm dog tired. I must've caught a cold on my way home last night, because my sinuses were so congested last night I could hardly breathe. It's a strange thing, to sleep with your mouth open. I'm not too keen on it, so I didn't sleep very well last night. Alarm went off at 7:05 and I don't think that I pulled myself out of bed until nearly 7:30. The pills I took for my allergies last night didn't help a bit, so I figure these are some Texas germs I picked up while eating an overpriced personal pan pizza at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport. I hope it passes soon. I need all the energy I can muster to get back in the saddle.

I downloaded the pictures I took while in Portland...not as many as I usually take, but I was happy with how they turned out. Here's a sampling.

The airport terminal in Moline.

Downtown Portland.

Portland Community College.

Mural at Rocco's Pizza.

so very milquetoast

Once again, in-between sessions at the conference. Just got out of a session about student response systems (SRS for short). These are little remote controls that are handed out in a class for dynamic poll-taking. The faculty asks a question, and the students reply using the clickers. The responses are tallied automatically and the students can see the results on screen as they are clicked in. I wasn't too keen on the idea in theory, but using it is another story...the instant feedback really does have a "cool" factor, and the presenter mentioned that this is a great way to actually discover how many students understand a concept or fact, without being punative.

Had dinner last night with Ann, which was awesome. She took me to a restaurant called "Doug Fir". It's very hip - think of a Bob Evans cross pollenated with a northwoods lodge AND a bachelor pad circa 1968! It looked like something out of a Daniel Clowes comic. I loved it.

Ann also introduced me to an incredible PS2 game called Katamari. All I can say right now is that I'm going to be utterly hooked. Curse you, Ann! *laugh*

random observations

Random observations in Portland.... (aka, "Signs I'm not in Iowa anymore")

1. "Outdoorsy" people are the norm, not the exception. And "outdoors" is not synonymous with "guns"!

2. There are sushi bars in the malls.

3. Caesar salads come with whole leaves of romaine lettuce and are topped with little sheets of parmesean cheese that look like blankets (at least at Pazzo's).

4. No-one carries an umbrella, even when it rains.

warm fuzzies for portland

It's Friday afternoon, about 3:30 pm Pacific Central Time, and I'm in between sessions at the CCUMC conference in Portland. I feel just a little guilty that I haven't had any time to post anything for the last few days, but it's been insanely busy, getting ready for the trip and all the preparations involved with leaving work for a few days, especially considering this is homecoming weekend (and yes, I feel guilty about that, too!) But I also miss posting short (ok, rambling) blogs each day...I think I'm getting addicted to this!

So, long story short, I'm in Portland for the next several days, meeting with over two hundred other media specialists from colleges and universities around the country. Can you say A/V geek central? *laugh* It's a fantastic group of people and the event organizers do a great job of scheduling helpful, interesting sessions. It really recharges me, professionally. I'm taking notes like a madman.

Yesterday was a long day. I rolled out of bed at 3:30 am and my Mom drove me to the Moline airport for my 7 am flight (yeah, she's a saint!). I had two connections - one in Dallas/Fort Worth, and the other in Oakland. I didn't see much of Dallas but I was keen on their little train that shuttled people from one terminal to the next. Reminded me of that train on Mr. Rodgers. I had more time to kill at the Oakland terminal - that's where I had a highly mediocre burrito for lunch. Why in the world are there no good, fast food restaurants in airports? I'm thinking of Chipotle Grill or Noodles and Company. Mmm....noodles...

Anyhoo, I'm keen on Portland. The airport was a dream. They have information desks with people who are extremely helpful and friendly. The luggage arrived at the carousel no more than five minutes after I stepped off the plane. And to top it off, my bag was the second piece of luggage out of the carousel chute! *laugh* As if this wasn't enough, the light rail system is awesome. I grabbed a train from the airport to my hotel for $1.80. You can't beat that with a stick. Oh, and did I mention that the airport is extremely clean? A few more days here, and I may not want to return! I'm meeting my cousin Ann tomorrow night for dinner - I'm looking forward to it.

shiny red vinyl booths

It's 1:45 a.m. I should go to bed. But I got back from Cedar Rapids about a half hour ago, and I'm still jacked up from Coke (cola, that is!). I figured if I'd write a while, I'd eventually fall asleep!

I'm listening to the Eels newest album, Blinking Lights and Other Revelations. I thought it would be a downer, but it's surprisingly light and catchy, musically speaking. Lyrically, it's full of painful moments, but there are also jubilant songs to temper the mood. Some songs that may be about E's father are especially memorable. When I listen to the record, I get the sense that I'm reading someone's letters. I'm digging it.

LeAnn and I went to the Amana Colonies today for their annual Oktoberfest festival. It was warm - very warm - and I was feeling a little fuzzy - probably from staying up late the night before (stupid blog!). We had lunch in a large barn with a polka band playing in the background. The average age of the audience was roughly 20 years older than myself, but I enjoyed the older gentleman sitting next to me who, upon noticing a fly buzzing around my beer, told me that I should order two beers next time - one for me and the second for the flies! Another person old enough to be someone's grandfather sat next to us and promptly fell asleep. Can't blame him - the brats, beer, and warm barn were almost enough to do me in, too! To to ward off the soporific effects of the meal, LeAnn and I walked to the various wineries in town to sample their wares. Most had the same options - primarily sweet or dessert wines containing the following varieties: cranberry (the universal bestseller), rasberry, dandelion, rhubarb(!), and a few others I'm forgetting. LeAnn tried a pineapple variety that she assured me was as bad as it sounds. I'm normally not a big fan of dessert wines, but I did pick up a bottle of cranberry that I liked.

Other highlights of the day included having dinner with LeAnn's family and friends at the Starlite Lounge (a neighborhood bar where they serve their burgers in wax paper - yum!) and going bowling afterwards. My bowling was embarrassing, but I did hit 112 my first game - quite possibly a personal best! *laugh* Beck's E-Pro was playing in the background, and the song really grabbed me for the first time as I stood over the bowling ball return, waiting for the pins to fall. Don't you love it when you hear a song that you know you're going to love, and it's still shiny and new to your ears?

LeAnn and I capped off the night with some delicious cheesebread at Leonardo's. The place looks like it could've been lifted wholesale outta Pulp Fiction - especially the circular booths clad in red vinyl. I love it - it was a perfect way to wrap up the day.

By the way, why is it that soda tastes better from a soda gun than a can?