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Everyone knows how much I love Karen. At least they should given the fact I plaster it all over Facebook and nearly all of my many blogs. I do. I love her. She is life and breath and hope and happiness and joy and light and peace. And those things, my friends, do not even begin to encompass what she is to me. Suffice it to say she is big love. We have big love. Still.
Today I read that Prop 8 was ruled unconstitutional. This is a lovely thing. Wonderful. And hopefully it is just the beginning of what will be a wave of equal rights and civil liberties running rampant across this country and throughout the world. This is my hope.
I know there are some people who believe with everything they are that gay marriage is evil. But seriously people, what’s it to you? If you believe in God, and this is the reason for your objection, read scripture and you will find passages saying things like judge lest ye be judged and do unto others and love your fellow man as yourself. If you believe God won’t approve, then let God decide. That’s how it’s supposed to work. You aren’t God. Just sayin’.
I don’t believe I’m going to be judged. I believe in love. I believe in hope and happiness. I believe my love is no less important than yours. I believe that if Karen and I were allowed to marry legally this would not undermine what you consider to be traditional marriage. I don’t care who you marry, as long as it doesn’t hurt either party involved, and I expect that I should have the same rights as you.
I’ve found the someone I will spend the rest of my life with. I’m lucky. And someday soon I will be able to legally marry her in any and every state in this country. I believe this to be true. Today’s ruling gets us back on the right road. We’re going to get there. Slowly, maybe, but we will get there. And when we do Karen and I will stand up in front of friends and family and say I do. Just like we did privately 8 years ago on that beach in Hawaii. Someday soon…
HELEN: Margaret, do you remember how angry we were the day we finally realized that women’s legs are not harder to shave than men’s faces, but rather razors made for women can’t hold a candle to those made for men? And the women’s razors are more expensive to boot. I’d like to meet the asshats at Gillette and give them a piece of my mind. Did they really think we wouldn’t mind just because they made the razors pink? And speaking of pink, this whole mess with Komen should be a wake-up call to …
Margaret and Helen have it all figured out…
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and the sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hate to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body…
A noise outside wakes me up. It wakes Weston as well. He moves slightly, growls toward the window, and then stands up. I know I’m in trouble. Outside the wind tosses the branches against each other. It’s a nice sound. I can’t go back to sleep, but want to. Thinking I’ll have a better chance I get up and head to the bathroom, Weston decides he needs to get up as well. Padding in toward the dog door I open it so he can go out. We both do our business and it’s time to head back to bed. He won’t get in unless I let him go first, so he jumps up and then I get in behind him. It’s time to spoon. Yes, yes, I know.
Weston loves to cuddle. He is one of the most affectionate dogs I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what it is, but he’s always been like this. Maybe it’s because he came into our lives when he was younger than he should have been. Maybe he has always been, since that first day, treated like our child. Maybe it’s just that he’s so emotional. Whatever the reason, he loves a good cuddle. His two favorite cuddling positions are one, laying on his back while I cradle him and pet his belly as we sit in a recliner. And two… morning snuggle time. He loves to spoon. This is hilarious, but true.
Weston is, after all, a little creature of habit, just like his sister. He’s also a smart one. A pain in the ass to be sure, but that’s a post for another time. I’m usually on my side with my arm out. He lays right up against me, over my arm, puts his head on the pillow, and then wants me to put my other hand on his back. He also likes it if he’s so close that my head sort of lays on him and the pillow at the same time. It’s so funny. And yes, I sometimes cuddle him. He gets a couple of minutes of this and sometimes longer if I actually fall asleep in this position. It cracks me up. He would like this to happen every day, which it doesn’t, but he’d very much like it if it did.
His little sister has her thing too…
We get ready for bed and all get in. Each dog in their little dog beds on our bed. We all sort of relax and just when it gets quiet and mellow, Riley decides she needs to get back up. She stands up, one of us says to her, OK… go get a drink. She jumps down, goes to the water bowl, drinks really loudly for a tiny 10 pound dog, jumps back up, and lays back down. Every night, same routine.
Bedtime. 9:30 rolls around and they both get surly and disgusted if we don’t go to bed. If we are in the media room Riley is in a dog bed on a chair and Weston is usually asleep on the couch or laying on me. One of us gets up to get a drink or something and they both sit up, on alert, waiting for us to say the magic words… time for bed. They will even jump down, start to head upstairs in the hope that it’s time. We have to say to them… not yet. Not quite yet. Being the little creatures of habit that they are it’s tough for them to alter their course.
Ah well… the wind is still blowing out there now. The sun is up and so are we. I’m sitting on the couch in the living room typing away around Riley, who is laying on my lap. Yes, it’s hard to type with a dog in ones lap. Weston is laying next to me, pressed up against my leg. It’s time for breakast though and they are starting to let me know. Riley has just jumped up and gotten in my face. Weston keeps nudging me. OK, OK… I get the message. Loud and clear. Don’t want to mess with the routine…
This is an amazing story about beauty, perception, art, and what we see, or don’t see, as we go about our daily lives. Do you stop and notice, enjoy, live in the moment with something beautiful or do you walk past without a glance, without a thought for what’s happening right in front of you. What would you do?
Perusing Bandcamp for new music and ran across this band… really like them.
Karen and I recently started watching Damages. Season one is now complete and we have moved on to Season two. Wow. This show rocks. So far I can honestly say it’s one of the best television shows I’ve ever watched. From writing to directing to acting to cinematography… stellar. Glenn Close absolutely rocks as Patty Hewes, the terrible, vulnerable, brilliant, angry, sliding right on the edge of total psycho attorney who rules the NY legal scene. She is powerful, ruthless, and relentless. You’d expect nothing less of Glenn Close. She is amazing. The rest of the cast, however, is equally good. Ted Danson, Michael Nouri, Rose Byrne, Tate Donovan, Anastasia Griffith, Zeljko Ivanek, Timothy Olyphant, William Hurt… just to name a few. They would have to be for this to work. The story line is engrossing, the writing moving it along as it dips here and there unexpectedly. It kept us guessing who done it until the end. We thought we knew… but… maybe. We ended up changing our minds a couple of times. Talking it through, wondering. That’s good writing.
This is good. Really good. Watch it. If you love intrigue, murder mysteries, great filming, and fine fine television, you should check it out.
Ever have a thought, something you think you want or need to do, and if you don’t do it right away you forget what it was. That was me today. I had this great idea for a blog post. It was right there, bam, all shiny and ready for me to wax on about whatever it was. Now… nada. I got nothin’. I can’t remember an inkling of what it was. Sad.
I’m a geek. I admit it. I love all the little techie gadgets (yes I have an iPhone, a Kindle, a laptop, a desk top, external hard drives, digital cameras, and wifi enabled dvd players and tv). I do. I like getting something new and figuring it out. I also love all things art… painting, sculpture, photography, film, music. And yes, in college I took loads of liberal arts classes… philosophy, english, psychology (of course), sociology, religion, history, etc., etc. I’m one of those creative types. Or at least I think I am.
So along with this I like film, as I mentioned, and I like to get the inside scoop on it occasionally. So when I saw this documentary on PBS called “These Amazing Shadows” I had to check it out. Problem was it was on late and I couldn’t finish it. Luckily there’s now such a thing as streaming Netflix and they, YES!, had it available. For anyone who loves film this is a great little documentary about the National Registry of Film connected with the Library of Congress, how it came about, what it is, how they pick the films, etc. Got me interested enough to go to the website of the Library of Congress and check out the list. It’s pretty good, and not at all what you would think. Well, partially what you would think, but not completely. There are some very cool entries on the list. Documentaries, home movies, shorts, newsreels, etc. As well as films that are famous and you would know. Very cool.
So if you love film and have a bit of time this one is worth viewing.
Today is Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I was looking up quotes by him and was so inspired. Here we are, so many years after that tragic day, and his words still ring true. Whether you agree with him or not, and really how could you not when all he really cared about, talked about, was striving for, and preached about were the principles of doing the right thing, equality for all, peace between nations and our fellow men and women, and love. Love being the chief message. Love instead of hate, peace instead of war, freedom instead of constraint and imprisonment, solving problems via understanding and communication instead of through violence. A spectacular man.
Here are some of my most favorite of the quotes I found…
At the center of non-violence stands the principle of love. - Martin Luther King, Jr.
I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.
Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’ - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Never succumb to the temptation of bitterness. - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon. which cuts without wounding and ennobles the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals.
Nonviolence means avoiding not only external physical violence but also internal violence of spirit. You not only refuse to shoot a man, but you refuse to hate him. - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter. - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think. - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.
― Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches
People fail to get along because they fear each other; they fear each other because they don’t know each other; they don’t know each other because they have not communicated with each other. ― Martin Luther King Jr.
ATRA…
It’s cycle ten, people. Can’t believe it. 19 months since this all started and only just over nine months to go. I saw my oncologist today. The every three month visit. I had a couple of concerns as my liver counts had been elevated for awhile. My GP even ordered an ultrasound last week to make sure everything was ok. The results came in last Thirsday and it was good. But the numbers were still high… She thought it might be my chemo meds, but since my cholesterol was also good on the lowered cholesterol med, and I’m on an eating plan and working out again, she decided to take me off the cholesterol meds completely to see what happens there. I’ll be tested in late March to see if I can stay off of them. It’s also less taxing on my liver to be off them.
So today… Met with my oncologist. My numbers, CBC and Metabolic panel, were all good. Even my liver numbers, save one, we’re all back in the normal. The one that wasn’t was barely elevated over high. And this was me…. Sigh…. Relief. My doc allayed all my anxiety, which always rears it’s head in a big way right before I have the quarterly. To say I get anxious doesn’t fully describe it… I’m usually afraid of the what if. Not rational, but true none the less. This is when Ativan is my friend. That and hearing him say everything is great and I’m doing fantastic. Yes brother… Thank you!
So here I am… Cycle 10. Two to go. Entering the realm of taking 9 ATRA a day for 15 days on top of the weekly shot and the daily 6MP I’m already taking. Headache… Here we go. Tylenol and staying hydrated… Both become my good friends. And before you think I’m complaining… I’m certainly not. ATRA saved my life… Along with hardcore chemo, the love of my honey, family and friends, and fantastic medical staff. So there’s no complaining out of me. Zip.
What there is… There’s a huge sense of being grateful, being alive, being blessed with more love from family and friends than I can measure. Life, this life.. My life… It’s beautiful. And I am thankful for it, and for the ATRA I start taking today.
Cycle 10, people…. I’m in the last several months of maintenance now. This life is a wonderful miracle and I am more fortunate than is possible to express. So ATRA… Let’s go!
I have a high aesthetic. Meaning that I have an extreme sense of the beautiful. I don’t want to say that I can judge for others what is beautiful, but for myself I see beauty everywhere. I used to say I saw photographs in everything, which is true since that’s my medium, but really it’s more than that. My view of the world is filtered through my sense of beauty. And before all my friends and family start thinking to themselves about whether or not I’m judging how they look… that’s not it at all, and no, I’m not looking at you that way. Other than, I suppose, to see your inner beauty, which I do, but that’s a topic for another day. I’m talking about the world… people don’t factor in unless it’s a mass of them in a space and that particular scene is beautiful to me. Or a couple holding hands walking through the park. Beautiful. But again, I’m talking about space, architecture, nature, form, light, design, intention. I mean grace of movement, melody, warmth, a point of view.
Is this making sense?
I’ve never attempted to articulate this before, but yesterday I was looking at our living room. Simple. We both appreciate art, in many forms, and it’s evident in our space. The furniture is even sort of funky, which is part of it. We are eclectic, because we always get something because we love it, not because it’s what we should have to go with whatever else we have. We figure if we love something it will fit into the whole of what our place is. The vibe. We also believe in not having too much “stuff” so we try to keep things non-cluttered. It’s a balance of taste and style and funk and having our space feel a certain way. So I was looking at it and found myself thinking and feeling that a certain aesthetic sense fills it. It fills me. Anytime we go anywhere I see photographs. Not the usual panorama, though sometimes that’s so, but usually a part of something, the form of something, the way the light hits a particular thing. I notice. And I’m glad I do. It’s what happened yesterday as a certain winter light shone in through our living room window and hit part of a lamp. That’s all. Just a little light filtering in and hitting a part of lamp. It was stunningly beautiful.
I never get too busy to notice, never too rushed to notice, because even when I am busy or rushed I still notice as my eyes pass something. It’s wonderful. At least I feel as though it’s wonderful. I feel lucky to have this thing inside that naturally lets me see the larger, deeper, subtler things in life. The way a leaf blows across the street, the barking of a distant dog that sounds happy, the passing shapes in clouds, the shadows made by the rising of the sun. I sometimes feel these things so much I cry. Cry from a place of joy for having seen something so stunning. It used to embarrass me, but it no longer does. I feel privileged, and I wish more people stopped quietly and said to themselves…wow… that is beautiful. Whatever that may be. I think the world would be a better and more joyous place. How could it not be. It brings connection with things, connection with the larger world, makes a person feel small and a part of something bigger all at the same time. It brings a sense of peace, that things are as they should be for a moment, these brief snippets of time. It’s freeing in a way.
I feel fortunate, lucky, privileged, to see the world through these eyes… these eyes that see beauty in the smallest things all around me. And my hope is that you see it too…
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 18,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 7 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
It’s Friday morning. Karen has the day off, yay!, and is sleeping in. It was a rough night… the dogs restless, for whatever reason. We had to let them out a couple of times. My honey got the duty last night so she deserves a good sleep in. I’m trying to be quiet out here, Weston sleeping next to me on our little sofa, freshly brewed Earl Grey, all the lights are still off.
There’s something about these mornings… everything still. I love this time.
I have always been a person who likes my quiet alone time. No input, no talking, no one around. When I lived alone I could spend entire weekends just staying in my apartment, hibernating, reading, watching TV, surfing the net. I never felt alone or sad that I was. I enjoyed it. I had a busy life so getting those weekends to myself once in a while was a lovely thing. Living in my head and my heart. Regenerating my soul.
I still love time to myself. I don’t get whole weekends anymore, and you won’t hear me complaining about it as the trade off now is spectacular, but I still like my time. Luckily for me my honey gets it. She doesn’t get offended when I say I need some down time. When I say I need to have stillness… quiet. Like now…
or not….
We had such a great two days over at the kid’s house. A really lovely Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Pierogi making and toy building and a walk and elf set up on Christmas Eve. Such a nice day. Karen makes a mean pierogi… or several of them. So good. A new Christmas Eve tradition is born. From now on every Christmas Eve we will be clamoring for pierogi. Yum. After a walk, and food, and after the young gent went to bed we all went into elf mode. Building toys and setting out his wagon and enormous zebra, later named Zeus. The kids put together his easel. All while Christmas music played.
Christmas day Karen and I opened our gifts to each other, and the gifts from Mom for the pups (they loved them… or, more accurately, Weston took to both of them and Riley hasn’t seen much of either since… LOL) while enjoying a quick cup of coffee. We had to get it all done and then get dressed and head over to the kid’s house so we’d be there before the little guy was up and able to look at the tree. We didn’t make it before he was up, but he hadn’t looked at the tree yet. When that little man wakes up he thinks of only one thing… food. He loves him some oatmeal and applesauce!
So he looked at the tree and the gifts and was overwhelmed. In a good way. We all opened, he opened some of his, and we enjoyed some cinnamon rolls. Then Martin made us lunch (pizza) using his new bread maker. He makes some mean pizza dough and we made some yummy pizzas. Then a walk (the young man rode in his new wagon part of the way and pushed it part of the way and cared less about it part of the way). The walk was followed by more present opening for him, he got an unusually high number of presents… go figure. It was fun.
After a full day Sebastian had a little dinner, played a little more, and then went up for his bath and bed. Meanwhile the turkey was cooked (it had been started earlier in the day) and Karen and I set about getting the rest of the stuff ready. The kids came back down and the table was set, the food laid out, the wine uncorked, and there we were… turkey dinner for the four of us with most of the trimmings. A quiet really nice dinner. We followed that up with a rousing game of Mad Gab, a game we’d gotten for them for Christmas. It was totally fun. At one point Mary and I were laughing so hard we were crying. Good fun!
It was a beautiful Christmas this year. Relaxed, fun, totally great. As Mary said… it’s why we all moved to the same place. So we could enjoy stuff like this while still getting to sleep in our own beds at night. The best of both worlds.
Here we are… In another waiting room. Lordy… We have both been to the dentist, the eye doctor, had our physicals, been to my regular appointments, and now we are at the ankle & foot doctor for Karen’s last, hopefully, follow up on he heel break/bad ankle sprain. We have blitzed the health scene here I tell ya. Whoa nelly!
The result… New glasses for both of us, cleaner teeth, and poked and prodded all around.
Now.. 2012… LOL
We went out a couple of nights ago in search of Candlestick Lane in Urbana. A friend, thanks Ann!, told us about it. We were trying to conjure up some Christmas spirit. Ann had an idea where it was in past years so we went out.. pups in the car, homemade hot chocolate in our to go mugs, and a keen eye all led us in the right direction. Yes, we found it. It’s not huge, but it’s cool. Apparently, after a little research on it, it’s been there since the 1960′s. Every year they do a lighting ceremony… a processional where they light one house at a time until it’s all glowing beautifully. We missed that, but we didn’t miss the lane. We drove through like three or four times. We tried to get a shot on my phone, which I’ll include here, but it didn’t do it justice. We thought we should go back over, park the car, take one of the good cameras, and walk down to try and get some shots. We’ll see. So busy right now, with Christmas coming up this weekend, so we might not make it back over. But, we found it, and it was kinda cool. Yay for Christmas lights. We are so funny, we don’t like putting them up at our house, but we love love love looking at them. Ho ho ho!
Karen and I decided the other day that she would take a day off during the week and we would go somewhere. Our original plan was to head to Indianapolis for a couple of days, spend the night, that sort of thing. The dilemma… the pups. We wanted to take them, and could have, but then what would we do with them when we wanted to go in somewhere or have dinner out or any myriad of other things that don’t allow dogs. We couldn’t leave them in a hotel room and we wouldn’t leave them in the car, so there you go. Dilemma. And subsequent change of plan… day trips. Ah ha!
So Sunday we just sort of drove around locally. Didn’t really go anywhere overly cool, just sort of checking some places out. We did this with the dogs. They like to ride along.
Monday we got up, got a tad bit of coffee, waited for the radon guys to fix our leaky boot, and then headed to the train. Ah the train. I love it. We were lame to wait until the last minute so our tickets were more. Yes, they have so many at different price ranges just like the airline and if you wait too long the cheaper tickets sell out and you are left paying more. Though really, c’mon… $52 for two one way to Chicago wasn’t terrible. We have paid half that, but we weren’t too flummoxed by it. Flummoxed… I love that word.
Drive to the train station, park in the 10 hour parking, hop on the train, get off in two and half hours after reading and listening to music and looking at the passing scenery and there you are… Union Station in the Second City. Chicago. I do love it there.
We have been to Chicago a few times now… before we moved to the midwest once, for two weeks over Christmas and New Years when the kids got married there. That was our first time… we loved it then, and still. We have only ever been downtown. And this time was no exception.
One glitch… we didn’t have a plan. We didn’t really decide until Monday morning that we were going for sure, hence the last minute ticket buying and such. And we didn’t really talk about what we wanted to do or where we wanted to go beforehand or on the train ride there. So there we were, Union Station, smack in the middle of the city, and had no idea what we were doing. Pretty funny… and, kind of fun. No agenda.
So we walked… and walked… and walked some more. We originally headed toward a restaurant some friends recommended, The Artists Cafe, on Michigan Avenue down across from Millennium Park and the Art Museum. We were starving so that seemed like a great place to begin. It would have been, only before we got there we passed another place. There were people sitting in the window who had enormous burgers that happened to catch my honey’s eye. Needless to say all thought of the Artists Cafe was out the window and in we went for burgers. They were good. Aside from the rather vocal and potty mouthed man sitting next to us, it was all good. And to be honest, we didn’t really care about the vocal potty mouthed man either. He wasn’t loud, so we could tune him out as he lit into his lady companion for… who knows what. Just a little extra flavor in the big city.
From there we walked to Macy’s to check out the window displays. They were pretty cool this year. I liked them. A sort of magical fantasy theme thing. Then we ran across the Christkindlmarket and wandered there for a bit. Every ornament you could possible think of, strudel, schnitzel, some strange drink served in a tiny boot… and crowded. Cool. We bought nothing, but we experienced it.
After that we decided we’d wander over toward the river and see if we could find some hot chocolate and chai. We did. A nice way to warm up and charge the phone (another word for map nowadays). We sat in there for awhile, got warm again, purchased our return train tickets from the Amtrak app on my phone, and then wandered along the river back toward the park. Millennium Park at night is gorgeous. Especially this time of year. Skating in the city rink, reflections of christmas lights along with city lights in The Bean, the faces all lit up, trees with lights in them, people everywhere, music playing, the Pritzker all gorgeous. Beautiful. We spent a bit of time down there just hanging out and looking at the sights before walking back toward Union Station.
Most of the day we walked, I took photographs, we talked, we hung out together. Nothing major. We figure we walked somewhere in the neighborhood of 6 or 7 miles. We had some good food. We looked at some cool stuff. We enjoyed both the train ride going and coming home. But mostly, honestly, we just enjoyed spending the day alone together. It’s truly our favorite thing. Being together and having an adventure. There is nothing better than that. Than days like our day in Chicago.
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Karen and I always talk about how we believe the people in our lives are it. Nothing, material and otherwise, compares. Riches mean nothing without having people you love and who love you. It’s the only thing that’s important. Period. The end.
If you think about the most important events in your life, they always involve the people you love. Traveling to new places is best when shared because you aren’t just seeing something, you’re experiencing it with someone. Buying things, though perhaps providing a brief level of happiness and excitement, a sort of rush, ends up just being stuff you own. Stuff you have around you. But events, dinners, days in the park, watching a movie and digging into the shared bowl of popcorn, walking, playing games, chatting over coffee… all these things involve people. When I look on my life to this point there’s not one thing I have that I couldn’t live without… not one. But the people… that’s a different animal, pun intended, all together. The only things I ache for are more time with people I love. More time. The only thing I’m greedy about is time… and wanting more of it.
I was looking for quotes today as I always try to put one inside the Christmas cards we send, and I came upon this little gem from Mother Teresa…
If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other. ~ Mother Teresa
It seems, not too surprisingly, that Mother knows what it’s all about… Here’s to peace…
Weston thinks he deserves to have all of my attention… He probably does.
Dry… oh, yes… I need water!
When a person thinks about moving to the midwest it’s obvious to dread the humidity of the summer and the freezing cold of the winter. What’s not so obvious is how chapped your lips get or how dry your skin becomes. It’s not something you would think about really. But, it’s exactly what happens.
We wake in the morning and we can hardly talk because our mouths are so dry. We drink more water here, out of necessity, than we ever did in Oregon. Rainforest to prairie, big difference. I put my hand to my forehead, partial thinker pose, and get distracted by the flaky nature of my skin. It’s not appealing.
We will adjust, I’m sure. Lotion, creams, water, mineral oil. Whatever it takes. That’s what we will do in the surprising dry climate of the Midwest.
Now… I’m parched… where did I put that glass of water…
It’s rare for a movie to make you laugh and cry alternately in an effective, non-fabricated way. The Help was able to do just that.
I don’t like being led through a film. Or at least feel like I’m being led. You know the type I mean. When you feel like, oh, this is where I’m supposed to cry, oh now… yes now I’m supposed to laugh. They never feel organic. And though sometimes they can still be enjoyable, I never get that wow, what a fantastic experience I just had kind of feeling. It’s more like… well, that was sweet, or that was cute. The Help is neither sweet nor cute, and that’s such a refreshing thing in todays movie scene.
I loved this movie. It’s poignant without being sappy, funny without being cheesy, heartfelt without being foolishly sentimental. It will make you laugh, feel heart break and triumph, cry, and leave you with a feeling of hope that things can and do get better. That though victory and change may happen in a small and slow way, they do happen.
Good art, no matter the form, makes a person think about the world in a deeper more meaningful way. Forcing you to examine personal opinions and boundaries, encouraging you to think about things in new and different ways than you had before. Good art offers discovery, hope, and changes of mind at the same time it wins and breaks our hearts. The film The Help, without question, is good art.
