Mark L. Van Name's Blog, page 62

Tears for my mom

Today would have been my mom's 83rd birthday.  She died a bit over four years ago, on February 11, 2012.  On this blog, I wrote about her death and the week following it.  During the time from her death to her memorial service, I never cried.  At the memorial service, I choked up several times, and a few tears hit my cheeks, but I didn't cry.

I still haven't cried for my mother.

It's not that I don't miss her.  I do, terribly.  It's also not that I didn't love her.  I did, very much.  I still do.

The problem is, I don't cry.  The closest I come is to choke up, get a few tears, wipe them away, and move on.  Many, many different things can cause me to reach that point, but nothing has taken me to full crying since I was eleven.  At that time, when I was in the years of abuse, I vowed not to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me cry, and I stopped crying.  Period.  Something that might make me cry enters me, my emotional shields automatically engage, and that's that.

I expect it might be healthier for me to cry, but at this point I don't know how.

A few weeks ago, I went to
Leaning against a railing at the Lincoln, in the dark, friends around me but unable to see my face, alone with this tsunami of grief, I decided to try not to block the pain and instead to embrace how much I missed Mom, how much I wished I had danced with her.  I pushed back the shields as much as I could, and I opened myself to the pain as much as I know how.  I listened to the song, which I love, and I thought of Mom, whom I loved so much, and tears rolled down my cheeks.  My self-defense systems fought me, and in the end they won, because I could not full-on cry, could not sob, could not let the grief control my body for even a second, but in that minute, at that concert, listening to that song, I shed more tears for Mom than ever before.

This quiet battle, which matters only to me, passed in the first minute of the song, and then I was myself again, listening to the music and aching for my mother, but distantly, as one does for an opportunity missed long ago.

I thought about that intense minute again today, on Mom's birthday, and I decided to write about it as a belated gift to her, one she cannot enjoy but that at least I have tried to send, a shout into the ether as pointless and yet as heartfelt as those tears.

What we do for people we love once they are gone cannot help them.  I understand this so much better now than I did before Mom died.  If you love people, let them know now, if you can, if you are better at expressing your love than I ever was with my mother, because once they die you will have only tears and pain, and neither will warm them in the cold nights when they wonder, as we all inevitably do, if they are loved.

I love you, Mom.

You should see The Jungle Book

for its effects, even if for no other reason.  The plot is a Disney version of Kipling's work, but it's a well-done one.  The voice acting is quite good.  The visuals, though, make the film worth your money.  They are stunning.

In scene after scene, you'll find yourself wondering what is real and what is not.  Most of the time, the animals are clearly animated, but they are the best animal animations I've ever seen.  The backgrounds are often so good that you forget you're watching anything animated.

I did enjoy the familiar story, by the way; I've focused here on the movie's look because it is so strong.

If you're at all interested in the state of the art of movie animation, check out The Jungle Book.

This scene from Say Anything

came up in a meeting today, so I had to put it here.  If you don't know the scene or the movie, you're the poorer for the lack.  Check it out, then go watch the film.



I'm not generally a big fan of teen romance movies, but some--Say Anything, Benny and Joon, and  Some Kind of Wonderful spring to mind--work powerfully for me.

Enjoy.

Green Room

is a film, opening tomorrow, that puts me in an uncomfortable position:  its genre is one I normally avoid, but its lead, Patrick Stewart, is an actor whose films I try not to miss.  Both its reviews and its audience desire ratings are extremely high on Rottentomatoes.

I am torn.

If anyone has seen it, please drop me a message and let me know your thoughts on it.

Rain pounding on skylights

over my head is one of the most beautiful writing soundtracks in the world.  Lovely, absolutely lovely.

Another exciting May movie

I've mentioned X-Men: Apocalypse before, and I've been excited about the movie since the first trailer.  After seeing this new trailer, though, I'm even more psyched to see the film.



May is looking to be a fun movie month!

If you're outside North Carolina & think all of us in the state support HB2

think again.  Many, many of us don't, and some folks are even getting arrested in protest, as you can read here.

The bill is a vile piece of legislation that is costing my state jobs and money, not to mention making North Carolina a bit of a national laughingstock.

I hope that our governor and legislature get the message and repeal this awful bill.

I realize it's a failing

of mine that I want to see this movie--and will go see it--but there you have it.



What can I say?  I'm a sucker for films of The Rock (aka Dwayne Johnson).  I generally run a way from a movie starring Kevin Hart, but for this one, I'll be there.

Go ahead:  mock me.  I can take it.

When you offer a dessert flight

of either three or four selections, I assume that you'll be providing small, maybe a quarter to a half of the normal size, tasting portions of each one.  Consequently, for two to four people to order a flight of four desserts is excessive but not insanely so.

What turns that order into something crazy is when what the restaurant means by a "dessert flight" is full-sized portions of the dishes, as Chef and the Farmer did on my recent trip there.

Click the image to see a larger version.
From the top left, that's crispy pound cake with strawberries and lemon curd, a wonderful strawberry cobbler with basil ice cream, a chocolate chess pie with bourbon ice cream, and one of the best carrot cakes I've ever tasted.

I learned two lessons from this experience:  Chef and the Farmer makes excellent desserts, and never assume what a restaurant means by "flight."

Criminal

is a movie critics love to hate, as you can tell from its RottenTomatoes rating.  I quite enjoyed it, however, in large part because of the over-the-top performance from Kevin Costner.

The plot apparently struck many critics as hard to follow, but if you've read any SF, I expect you'll find it as simple to track as I did.  Yeah, it's full of dumb pseudo-science, but no more so than most modern SF or nearly SF films.  The notion of implanting memories and the subsequent challenges that poses are topics that SF stories, books, and movies have been exploring for decades.  Criminal makes the process fun largely because Costner makes his character, Jericho Stewart, so entertaining.

The spoilers I don't want to give revolve around Stewart and his behavior, so plan to simply enjoy them.

The other actors were at least adequate, with a scene-chewing Gary Oldman particularly fun and despicable to watch.

I don't think this is worth rushing to the theater for, but I do think it's worth making a matinee run (which is what I did) or picking it up on DVD.  You'll have a fun couple of hours, and you'll want to watch Costner play Stewart again.