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A Perfect Getaway

I used to be scared of traveling.

Although I had to do it quite a lot for work, I was a bit neurotic about traveling to far away places and hanging out with the locals. On a trip to San Diego in the early 90s I stayed in my hotel room between conference events and trips out for meals. Mrs. Film Geek--who loved to travel--was with me. She couldn't understand why I was scared to leave the room. I wasn't quite sure myself. I rationalized that it was my inexperience with travel as a youth that made me nervous about meeting strangers in strange locals.


But I was wrong.

A Perfect Getaway is the perfect illustration of my fears about travel. It's not a perfect movie, but it's an enjoyable popcorn flick with a terrific swerve.

I pretend to be better with travel now, but on the inside I'm still pretty fearful. Steve Zahn's flick didn't do much to alleviate that anxiety.

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Jay Leno is a punk.

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The Lovely Bones

While I can't comprehend the emotional turmoil that must result from the death of one's child, I can imagine such an event--especially if the death was caused by a violent act-- would turn one's world upside down. I imagine life, for me at least, would then forever be surreal; things would move at a slower pace, I'd struggle to maintain relationships, and an obsessive focus on my child would rule my life.

Although the plot of The Lovely Bones focuses on the murder of 14-year-old Susie Salmon, the film is best when it explores the continuum of obsession. The murderer of the young girl, played masterfully by Stanley Tucci, is driven by his obsession. Susie's father, before and after her death, is consumed by an obsessive attention to detail. Director Peter Jackson seems to be commenting on the fact that obsession in and of itself is neither good or bad, healthy or unhealthy. Rather, it's how we humans channel our obsession that can be a problem.

The Lovely Bones boasts beautiful and effective cinematography, and incredible acting by Stanley Tucci. The story is difficult to watch, and contains a few small scenes that make it less than perfect (Susan Sarandon and the character she portrays has no place in this film). But it's a powerful movie, with powerful performances.



And you'll hug your kid afterwards just a little bit tighter.

Ummm . . . My Bad

I exited the men's public restroom at work, and walked the fifty yards or so back to my office. Engrossed in my work, I opened some mail and created files for several minutes until I realized my iPhone was not in sight.

I'd left it in the stall!

An iPhone is a remarkable piece of technology when one has to use a public bathroom for an extended period of time. I use mine to check email, read FML and text friends who have made the decision to reduce their blogging efforts.

All from within the comfort of the small cubicle and locked door.

Knowing for certain I'd left the iPhone on top of the toilet paper dispenser, I high-tailed it (pun intended) from my office back to the restroom to get it before anyone else could go into the stall.

I was too late. I opened the restroom door to see my former stall door was closed.

Locked. With a set of big brown shoes under the door.

Desperate, I knocked. "Hello," I said. " I think I left my cell phone in the stall. Would you look, and slide it under the door?"

No answer. I knocked again.

"Hey . . . I left my iPhone in this stall. Do me a favor and slide it under the door, okay?"

Nada.

Now certain the guy inside the stall intended to steal my iPhone, I grabbed the top of the wall and pulled myself up in order to see over. Sitting there-- doing his business-- was a man I'd never met. And he had a horrified look on his face.

"Hey, listen . . . I left my cell phone in this stall. Slide it to me, and I'll leave you alone." The man stared at me for a moment, opened his mouth awkwardly and said:

"No speak English."

"Cell telephono," I said in a desperate attempt. He looked confused, and shook his head.

I raced back to my office, determined to catch the guy before he zipped up and zipped out of the stall with my iPhone. I borrowed a phone from a friend, planning to go back to the restroom, call my number and catch the man red handed with my iPhone.

My friend wanted to ensure she had my number saved in her phone, so she pulled it up and hit "call." In a second or two, I heard my familiar ring. . .

. . . under the pile of mail on my desk.

I closed my door and worked incognito for the rest of the day.

Pimpin' For Big Tobacco

Participants at a recent open meeting on a proposed smoking ban in Cabell County, West Virginia, came out in style!

Photo by Lori Wolfe/The Herald-Dispatch

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