"The Man of Steel"-Modern Mythmaking at its Finest

  I have been writing this blog intermittently for the last 8 years or so. In that time, those of you who have read prior posts have likely clued in on the fact that I am an unabashed comics fan. Admittedly, I am more of a DC Comics fan than a Marvel comics fan, but I enjoy both. During this recent superhero film renaissance, I have enjoyed watching the characters I love come to life in ways that, due to the advent of increasingly sophisticated CG special effects technologies, actually resemble the adventures I grew up reading and cherishing. From the release of Spider-Man on through the release of the Man of Steel, I have appreciated Hollywood finally taking notice of these comic worlds, changing little about the stories in order to bring them to the screen. This was a far cry from the early days, when producers would simply option characters and then change them to the point where the characters were almost unrecognizable. Of course, sprinkled in among the wonders, there have been duds ("Daredevil", the "Ghost Rider" films, Ang Lee's "Hulk" and, at least in my opinion, "The Dark Knight Rises"), but for the most part, I have loved these films.
   Of all of the heroes, however, none has had as vexing a cinematic history as Superman, the Man of Steel. This is something I have long lamented. From a very young age, I held Superman up as my favorite superhero. I collected the memorabilia and action figures, carefully keeping and cataloging them and eagerly anticipating the new items. I read all of the comics and graphic novels featuring the character and reveled in the revised origin stories penned by John Byrne, Mark Waid, and Geoff Johns. I appreciated how the characters kept Superman relevant even as the times were changing. I even remember how, even as the world grew darker, Superman's mission remained the same. Even as the comic book world was headed towards one in which the actions of heroes could often be mistaken for those of villains. However, even as Superman's origin and stories were updated, he remained a symbol of hope in a world when comics (and real life itself) were apparently growing darker and more jaded. With this state of affairs, could a filmmaker create a relevant Superman film? Should they even try?
     For many years, Richard Donner's original Superman film was held up as a template for "how to do a superhero-and a Superman-film properly. In interviews, Donner has gone on record as saying that he exhorted his crew with the phrase "verisimilitude", a reverence for the source material and the character itself. In my opinion, Donner succeeded up until the point when we, the audience, meet Otis and the cinematic Lex Luthor, both comically portrayed by Ned Beatty and Gene Hackman, respectively. After that, the film rapidly went downhill. From Margot Kidder's woeful miscasting and unattractive performance as Lois Lane on to the characterization of Lex Luthor as a humorous land grabbing capitalist with a not-too-serious dark side, the film only succeeded in one thing-its portrayal of Superman/Clark Kent, both masterfully played by Christopher Reeve. More than anything, Reeve was the perfect embodiment of Superman-to the point that, as time went on, critics and audiences alike allowed the passage of time to cause the perfect portrayal of Superman to envelope the entire film itself, spackling over the numerous gaping flaws in the story and character portrayals. Critics embraced this film as the way that superhero films should be done while ignoring the obvious-while this may be true of how the characters should be portrayed, this was not the proper way to celebrate modern myth. This myopic and misguided view of Donner's "Superman" served to handcuff Bryan Singer as he went on to make "Superman Returns", a film that repeated all of the past mistakes of the Donner-era Superman films while ruining the character of Superman himself, portraying him as an absentee father and a hero who turned his back on his adopted homeworld in favor of some nebulous quest to return to a planet that he knew to be destroyed. For more of my thoughts on the misfire that was "Superman Returns", you can read my review here.
   After the failure that was "Superman Returns", Warners, thankfully, went back to the drawing board. At the time, the Marvel Cinematic Universe had yet to be established, and it was years before "The Dark Knight" would fill Warners' coffers to the tune of $1 billion. Warners knew that, in the absence of any new franchises and the end of Harry Potter, it needed to get a better handle on its superhero franchises. Having misfired with "Green Lantern", Warners looked to their superhero A-team, securing Christopher Nolan and David Goyer to write and produce a new "Superman" film. Like "Batman Begins" before it, this new film was to disregard prior cinematic interpretations of Superman and reboot the series. Unlike "Batman Begins", however, Warners faced potential backlash by those who held the Donner film above all other Superman interpretations. At least this onus was not on Nolan and Goyer when they made "Batman  Begins", as, in the hands of filmmaker Joel Schumacher and writer Akiva Goldsman, the adventures of Batman had rapidly deteriorated into candy colored cartoon spoofs with a not-so-subtle homoerotic subtext which, also, completely ignored and mocked the attributes that made the character so great. With "Batman Begins", Nolan and Goyer went back to the source material, pulling material from "Batman: the Man Who Falls", "Batman: the Dark Knight Returns", and "Batman: the Long Halloween." Obviously, Superman fans could rest assured that at the very least, the film's creators would pay deference to the established stories for the characters.
   As the production worked its way through the production process, I was cautiously optimistic. And then the first trailer...and the second trailer...hit. Neither trailer seemed to be films about Superman but instead small art films about childhood struggles in the Midwest. At that point, I grew worried. What the heck were Nolan, Goyer, and Zack Snyder doing to my favorite comics character? What was with this weird music that seemed more at home in "Gladiator"? Was THIS what they expected to take the place of John Williams' iconic "Superman March"? Were the filmmakers no better than the Salkinds/Pierre Spengler? As much as I loved Superman, it was hard for me to get excited for the film. As 2012 turned into 2013, I had resigned myself to further disappointment regarding Superman in film. At least I had "Iron Man 3", "Star Trek: Into Darkness", and "Furious 6" to look forward to. And then, on April 16, 2013-that all changed.
   The final trailer for "Man of Steel" was released on April 16, and with it my expectations started to rise. The trailer had so much incredible iconic imagery and dialogue (some of which was taken directly from the comics), and that, by itself, would have been enough for me. However, when I listened to the portion of Hans Zimmer's score that was included within the trailer, it was enough to make me forget about John Williams' score. In one short piece of music, Zimmer's music seemed to spell out the idea of hope and soared like a flying hero. "Man of Steel' quickly became the film that I wanted to see the most this summer. I watched the trailer at least once a day and waited for the June 11 release of the soundtrack. I also purchased tickets to see the film on opening weekend. I saw it this past Saturday.
    In the lead up to watching the film, I had the misfortune to read a lot of negative reviews about the film. I was struck most often by the fact that the majority of the negative reviews came from reviewers who harped on the portrayal and story seemingly for no other reason than they were not the same as Donner's film. It was almost as if the reviewers felt that praising this film would mean denigrating another film that  is almost 40 years old. The best reviews reviewed the film as if it existed within a vacuum, focusing on what made the film work and lavishing praise on the filmmakers' choices for the story (Krypton, Smallville flashbacks, Zod conflict). I was dismayed, however, when what I termed the "old guy" reviews pushed the Rotten Tomato rating for the film down to the "rotten" territory. I held out hope merely because the positive reviews were coming in from reviewers whose opinions I valued. Moreover, the negative reviews seemed to harp on story points which they claim were not from the Superman mythos; however, they could not be more incorrect. One glaring example can be found in the Variety review, where the reviewer mocks the disclosure of the "S" symbol as being the Kryptonian symbol for "hope." This was introduced in the comics some time ago, yet the reviewer classified this piece of story as new to Superman. I chose to ignore the "warnings" of such reviewers.
  By the title of this post, you can see that I loved the film. From the opening 1/3 of the film on Krypton until the end of the film, with Clark donning his now iconic glasses, I thoroughly enjoyed the film. Goyer successfully took portions of some of the best Superman stories of the past 30 years and crafted something wholly unique and of this time. Far from the naivete shown by the citizens of the Donner film, Goyer actually contemplated what it would mean if Superman were unleashed on the world in 2013. Would we as a species trust him or not? What would this mean to our own long held religious beliefs?  Would Superman be treated as a pariah or a savior? How would the Kents advise their son if raising him in today's world? The aspects of Krypton also bear mentioning here-far from the crystalline aseptic nature of the Donner film, here Krypton is an alien planet seemingly lifted from the pages of Superman's 1950s adventures.
   Another intriguing and satisfying aspect of the film was the use of flashback to tell the story of Clark's formative years with the Kents. Not only did this approach allow Snyder to propel the story forward with high efficiency, but it also opened up the possibility of more of Clark's backstory being used in future films. Far from the linear classic telling of the Superman story, this version touched upon the various keystone moments that were important for THIS telling of the tale: 1) Clark learning how to control his powers; 2) Clark learning to keep his powers secret and the reasons for this; 3) the death of Jonathan Kent; and 4) a poignant coda that showed that Clark, from a very young age, had a subconscious realization of his ultimate destiny, one that his father realized as well though he did not live long enough to witness it.
     Other than Snyder's overuse of the handheld camera, I felt that the action sequences were kinetic in a way that had, to date, been unseen in modern superhero films. The Marvel films seems small in scope in comparison to the action and mayhem that we are treated to in the Man of Steel. Of course, one obvious plot point conveniently ignored by the filmmakers was the collateral casualties that would be inflicted upon the urban populations that served as staging grounds for Superman's battles with the other Kryptonians. Other than this (and the filmmakers' choice to have Clark execute Zod-something that is antithetical to the character), I had no major beefs with the story. I suppose I would have liked to see more "guy on the street" responses to the fact that the planet was being invaded by aliens and that one of these aliens had been living among us undetected for years-having already practiced deceit for 33 years, why is Superman trustworthy now? Is it because he defeated the Kryptonians? That does not fly (pun intended), because he was the one who brought  them here in the first place. Without his activation of the beacon, they would never have come to Earth (therefore, all of the death and destruction caused by the Kryptonians can squarely be laid at the doorstep of Superman). Would we, as a society, really embrace Superman as a savior or view him as something akin to Zod? I also did not buy Clark's exchange with Jonathan when he says "You aren't really my father." A consistent theme in the comics, even as Clark was looking for his origins, has been that he considers the Kents his parents without question. They were his anchor to his humanity, and he has never questioned that. I realize that the dialogue was intended to imbue a sense of regret within Clark for what subsequently happens to Jonathan, but in that case, one would think that Clark would stay closer to his widowed mother rather than go off gallivanting around the world leaving her to her own devices. If the filmmakers had left Jonathan alive, that would have been a better story choice.
   I loved the changes to the character of Lois Lane and do not understand the criticisms surrounding her knowledge of Clark's secret identity. Lois is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist in the comics and extremely intelligent to boot. Why would she not be able to track Clark down? I loved that she uncovered-and keeps-his secret. One of the many themes of the film is the sense of loneliness that Clark feels-an inability to share his powers with the world. Lois gave him the chance to do just that and also gave him an ally when functioning as his secret identity of Clark Kent. That was a nice change in the mythos.
   I could go on about what I loved about the movie, but in the end, I felt that this was the right Superman movie for the times. With so much information being thrown at me in the film, I want the opportunity to revisit it at my leisure and more fully explore and contemplate some of the numerous themes that Goyer interwove into the classic tale. From the glimpses of Lex Corp signage in the film, I am excited for the possibility of seeing Lex Luthor brought to the screen properly and not in the campy Hackman/Spacey way. Though I had some issues with various plot points and story choices, these issues do not diminish my appreciation of the film. Finally, I have seen a "real" Superman film...and I liked it!

"Iron Man 3"...eh...

As many followers of this blog are aware, I love to write reviews for big summer movies (and also some smaller ones, to be sure). The summer movie season of 2013 kicked off this past weekend with Disney/Marvel/Paramount's "Iron Man 3" (disclaimer-I am a Disney stockholder-though that might not matter when you have read what I have to say). "Iron Man 3" is the first of what Disney has termed the Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase 2 (Phase 1 having consisted of "Iron Man", "The Incredible Hulk", "Iron Man 2", "Thor", "Captain America: The First Avenger", and "the Avengers"). I enjoyed each of the prior films, including the much maligned "Iron Man 2"; however I was greatly disappointed with "Iron Man 3." Please read no further if you have yet to see the movie and abhor spoilers.

1.  The Mandarin:  The "big reveal" in this film is the fact that the character of the Mandarin (played by Ben Kingsley), the "evil genius" counterpoint to Tony Stark's Iron Man, is an actor hired to play the part in order to hide the identity of the real villain of the piece, Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce). In explaining the reasoning behind this fundamental change to Iron Man's longtime comic book nemesis, Direct Shane Black and Marvel Films head Kevin Feige went on record stating that the character, as originally conceived in the comics, was a relic of the cold war and was a cartoonish and offensive representation of a moustache-twirling Chinese villain, the ultimate Communist counterpoint to Tony Stark's capitalist Iron Man. However, I call laziness! As a fan of comics, nothing irritates me more (when watching a comic book-based film) when a filmmaker decides to make wholesale changes to characters under the guise of "this is better" or "this will not work with audiences." If that is the case, then why use the comic book as a basis for anything? Why not create your own intellectual property instead of a bastardized version of someone else's? The truth behind the filmmaker's decision to make the Mandarin a buffoon of an actor really lies in Disney's desire to avoid antagonizing the Chinese, who have one of the most lucrative (yet tightly controlled) film distribution businesses in the world. Look no further than how Disney kowtowed to the Chinese by shooting specific "Iron Man 3" scenes catered to the Chinese audience which can ONLY be seen on Chinese screens. There is also a gaping plot hole regarding this little plot device. In one of the "Mandarin's" televised appearances, he shoots a man in the head on live television-however later, when Stark confronts the actor playing the Mandarin, he insists that he is an actor with the belief that no harm really came to anyone (nevermind the news bulletins of mass murder caused by the Mandarin's organization). Stark takes this at face value, but THE FACT THAT THIS ACTOR KILLED SOMEONE IN COLD BLOOD ON TV IS NEVER ADDRESSED! An easy plot fix for this character, if Marvel really wished to avoid offending the Chinese, would be to make the Mandarin a militant born out of Tibet, whose hard upbringing during the time of Chairman Mao caused him to lash out against the world (with a special hatred for the Chinese) as revenge for all of the pain they had caused him. It would make sense, then, for the Mandarin to team up with Aldrich Killian, an arms dealer, to wreak havoc on the world. this would have been a great opportunity to also introduce a Chinese hero to work with Iron Man to take down this combined threat-working together for the good of all. I really did miss my calling...is it too late for me to become a screenwriter?

2.  Maya Hansen: This is the woman who created Extremis and started working for Killian in the belief that he would be able to help her research reach its maximum potential. The sequence of events is: 1) Hansen and Stark sleep together one New Year's Eve, and Stark leaves an equation by her bed that helps her research; 2) Hansen joins AIM (Killian's group); 3) 14 years go by, during which time the Mandarin threat makes itself known; 4) Hansen kidnaps Pepper in an attempt to kidnap Stark so that he can continue to help her; 5) a 5 minute conversation with Stark is all that is needed to turn her to the side of the good guys and 6) Killian shoots and kills Hansen immediately thereafter. Her storyline MAKES NO SENSE. In the real world, Hansen would have used Stark's equation and applied for a grant/research position with Stark International. She would not have allowed 14 years to go by in following up on the equation. And, if she had spent 14 years working on something she believed in, a 5 minute conversation would not have been enough to "turn her good." This was ridiculous.

3.  the Iron Man armor: Call me crazy, but when I watch a film called "Iron Man", I should be able to expect sequences when Tony Stark as Iron Man is kicking villainous ass with the latest and greatest technology. What I do NOT expect to see is: 1) action sequences when the armor is being remote controlled by Stark; 2) armor sequences where there are no special abilities of the armor highlighted; 3) at least ONE sequence when the armor actually functions as it should. Let's look at the remote controlled aspect. One of the big action sequences of the film is a midair rescue of a lot of civilians in free fall from Air Force One. Stark REMOTELY CONTROLS the armor during this time. I do not buy this. For one, Stark's armor of choice is his glitchy Mark 42 armor. Secondly, as anyone with even a  FUNDAMENTAL KNOWLEDGE of how remote controls work, the possibility of interference of the signal controlling a remote controlled piece of machinery is exceedingly high. Did the filmmakers actually believe that Stark would take such a chance that something like a solar flare would NOT interfere with his control of the armor. Not to mention the fact that Stark was STILL EXPERIMENTING with his remote control set up-so you trust THAT TECHNOLOGY-that has already been shown to be glitchy-with the lives of over a dozen people. No-I call BS. The armors in this film also had all of the character of a battering ram. There were no special attributes on display at all-no cool lasers, no beams-I am still waiting for a sequence where Stark fires a repulsor beam from his chest plate-something that was front and center in the comics. Also-the fact that Tony had all of that armor within easy reach while he was lost in the middle of nowhere strikes me as a bit odd, Are you telling me that when he was waiting for his Mark 42 armor to recharge, a supergenius such as himself could not have figured out a way to bring one of his other 41 suits of armor to his location? Really? Please...and would it be too much to ask for ONE Iron Man film where the climactic fight is NOT held at night? A daytime fight, with sunlight dancing off of the armor, would be so cool...why does each film end with a night fight?

4.  Extremis/Aldrich Killian: OK-I get that Killian is supposed to be the dark side of Tony and that AIM is what Stark International might have been had Tony never been captured in Afghanistan. However, why combine the villain with Extremis? In the comics, the Extremis technology allows Stark to store a lot of his armor within his body and call it out when necessary-very cool biotech. Here, it allows the villain to breathe fire. What? Why even give Killian superpowers at all? Why not have the fights focus on the Mandarin and Iron Man, and have Killian get away at the end of the movie (as most wealthy villains do in real life)?

There are many other aspects of the film that irritated me (Rhodey's character, Pepper Potts, the tacked on epilogue that had Tony curing himself and then tossing a dangerous weapon (his personal arc reactor) into the water), but these are the big points. As someone who loved the film "The Avengers", I was really curious to see where the next phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe would take me. So far, I am unimpressed (though they did get the CHARACTER of Tony Stark correct...at least there is that...).

In Defense of "Sons of Anarchy"

     I have always had a fascination with organized crime and organized criminal elements. This fascination extends to everything from the Five Families of New York (Bonnano, Gambino, Lucchese, Colombo, and Genovese), the DeCavalcante Family of New Jersey (upon which the Soprano family was very loosely based), the Chicago Outfit, criminal gangs such as the Crips and Bloods, and prison gangs such as the Black Guerrilla Army, Aryan Brotherhood, and Mexican Mafia (or La Eme, whose story is recounted in Edward James Olmos's film "American Me" and was the basis for Taylor Hackford's film "Blood In, Blood Out" aka "Bound By Honor"). I have especially been interested in OMCs-outlaw motorcycle clubs. The histories of these clubs are very similar-most founding members were veterans returning from conflict looking to recreate the same sort of camaraderie that they enjoyed during deployment. The Hells' Angels, for example, were founded by WWII veterans in California. Numerous other OMCs were founded by Korean and Vietnam War veterans. OMC members also identify themselves proudly as "one percenters", a designation that supposedly arose from a quote by a member of the American Motorcycle Association in the 1950s, who stated that "99% of all motorcycle riders are law abiding citizens." This, of course, implies that the other one percent were outlaws. OMCs are extremely well organized, with hierarchies that exist on the local, state, national, and international levels. Most OMCs have officers that sound similar to those that might be found in any Rotary, Jaycee, or VFW club, with a president, vice-president, and sergeant-at-arms. Most OMCs are also highly organized criminal enterprises that specialize in the illegal distribution of both guns and drugs on a massive scale.
     In spite of this fascinating (at least in my mind) criminal architecture, few works outside of some older films and B movies (anyone remember the films "Stone Cold" starring Brian Bosworth?), prior to 2008, I cannot recall a television show or film that treats the OMC life as serious subject matter. That all changed with the broadcast of the first episode of creator Kurt Sutter's "Sons of Anarchy." Sutter had served as a writer for the critically acclaimed F/X series, "The Shield" and wrote some of that series most memorable episodes. In preparation for "Sons of Anarchy", Sutter spent a year with a real OMC studying the lifestyle and learning more about the motivations of the members (and, no doubt, soaking in the unique culture that is the OMC life). Sutter's genius was melding the organized crime aspects of "The Sopranos"-complete with memorable characters and stellar actors-with the Shakespearean drama of Hamlet, complete with characters who could easily be identified as their Hamlet counterparts. Charlie Hunnam was cast as Jackson "Jax" Teller (Prince Hamlet), Vice-President of the mother chapter (Redwood Original) of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, or SAMCRO. The SOA had been founded by his father, John Teller (King Hamlet), and his father's best friend, Piney Winston, upon their return from Vietnam, where they had served as paratroopers. Piney and John spent their time upon their return cruising through Northern California, eventually settling in the town of Charming, the hometown of John's wife and Jax's mother, Gemma (Queen Gertrude-played by Katey Sagal, who is also Kurt Sutter's wife in real life). Shortly after John's death in a motorcycle accident when Jax was only 11 years old, Gemma started dating and married Clay Morrow (Claudius-played by Ron Perelman), who was not only a founding member of SAMCRO but also John Teller's best friend. Clay rose to be president of SAMCRO and raised Jax as his own son after his father died. SAMCRO makes its money through the illegal sale of firearms, obtained through its Belfast, N.I. chapter (SAMBEL) to the gangs of California, including the One-Niners (a major gang from "The Shield"). SAMCRO's relationship with Charming is uneasy-many residents feel that the club's presence keeps the town safe from harm, as they ward off evil doers while conducting their illicit affairs well outside the city borders. However, throughout the series, SAMCRO's acts come back to Charming, and everyone has to pay.
     The underlying thrust of the series concerns Jax's struggle with his role in the club, his life as a single father, his issues with his mother, and the ghost of his father in the shape of a manuscript written by John Teller and left behind for Jax to find, outlining his vision for SAMCRO-a vision that is distinct from that embraced by his stepfather, the current club president. That is all one really has to know before watching the series. I find it compelling, and it has quickly become one of my favorite series. Sutter has created an immersive world in which the viewer can easily empathize with the challenges faced by the club (at least on the family side of things). Additionally, the show provides enough action and drama to satisfy fans of BOTH of those genres. To be sure, this is a series that is well suited for cable-the language and violence of the series alone would dictate that. It has become F/X's most successful and most watched series ever. However...
    When I tried to speak about it to others, however, people in my circle of friends seemed to be disinterested. I was surprised-I mean, who wouldn't be fascinated by this underworld of dark knights riding on their Harleys-antiheroes who are sympathetic one moment and viciously violent the next? I soon realized that the OMC world is something that not everyone is familiar with or even comfortable with. The OMC life appears to be a far cry from the "old world" charms of a Mafia family or the family-based drama of Compton street gangs. I find myself defending my love of the series to many people. Granted, as with any series, there are some downturns in story quality from episode to episode or season to season. However, on the whole, I put the series, the characters, and the storyline above most of anything else currently on television (with the exceptions of "Justified" and "Breaking Bad"). If you not yet experienced SOA, I highly recommend it (the first 4 seasons are available via Netflix's streaming service-in HD no less!).

7 more days on this phase...

and I am down 32 pounds.

THIRTY

TWO

POUNDS!

My clothes are baggy...I am beyond the last notch on my belt and need to consider getting another one. My shorts sag below my butt to the point where I look like some sort of weird Indian gangsta rapper (somehow, those three words just look ridiculous next to one another). The most important thing is that I am still not hungry! I have my morning tea and eat my meager lunch and dinner without feeling hungry. Last night, it was 7 PM before I finally forced myself to get up and make my dinner (and this is on 700 calories per day). Next Friday, I will celebrate my first day of dietary freedom by dining at Girl and a Goat, but I think that I will still have food components on the mind. At least I will be able to eat 2000 calories, but this once in a lifetime reboot of my metabolism will likely have me tentative in terms of what I choose to eat.

The one thing I have not considered is the expense of new clothes (ok, now I am being snarky). But you have to understand-all of the weight gain happened between law school and now. None of my suits fit at...all. As for alterations to make them fit, they would still be too baggy for me to wear. I need new clothes.

OK-the last 7 days should be easy. I'll report the final weight loss amount in 7 days.

The First 10 Days are HIstory, so what result?

So the first 10 days are down, and so am I. According to the bathroom scale, I am down 11 pounds. I really am losing about a pound a day, and i am doing it the right way (reduced fat and carb meals and very careful attention to my total daily calories). I think that the idea of rebooting my metabolism at my age is intriguing. I mean, science tells us that once you cross your early twenties, your metabolism starts an irreversible slide wherein your system is less adept at burning off food. Most things automatically go into long term storage. It is almost as if our bodies replicate the way most of us live life. You know-early on, we have nothing. We gradually acquire things and slow down as we get more and more content. Similarly, our metabolism in our youth is easy able to process food correctly provided that the right type of fuel is being fed into the system. As we get older, however, things just seem to...stick around...unless we go through the effort to burn it off. I think that I also just needed a reset button. After 5 years of eating poorly and putting off my own reset until "tomorrow", I woke up one day and decided that enough was enough. I hoped that I could just flip a virtual switch and turn on my will power, but having a real eating plan made all of the difference. I know what I need to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. I have my fridge stocked with so many choices for my meals that I never find myself merely grabbing a bag of chips or ordering out for a pizza.

The hardest adjustment has been going out with my friends. I never realized how much I used to eat and drink before! The ones I have told have been extremely supportive of my efforts and proud of the fact that I am sticking with it. At the same time, I think back to all of the social events I attend-almost every one of them revolve around drink and/or food. I am also a foodie and love fine dining. These things, when coupled with a sedentary lifestyle, have played havok with my physique. One of the more humorous side effects is the amount of money I have been saving by not going out and eating and drinking.

I still have 30 days to go, but if I can still continue creating new and interesting meals, these days should fly by. Last night, I had a sea salt and pepper crusted sea bass fillet that was amazing. I can't wait for dinner tonight.

Back Again...and Something to Blog About

You know, when I was younger, this whole exercise/weight loss thing was a lot easier. I used to eat what I wanted and never really gain a significant amount of weight. When I was studying for my doctorate, I had a lot of time in between experiments and spent a lot of that time in the gym. It got to the point where I was working out so much and watching my diet with so much attention that I was able to compete (and place) in some natural bodybuilding competitions. The constant maintenance, however, was too much for me. Over the 12 years since that time, I have literally ballooned in weight. It really did creep up on me. I can trace it back to when I had a job that was heavy on travel. Instead of doing my hour or so in a hotel gym and eating carefully, I reverted to bad food habits (getting fast food to go and then eating in my hotel room in front of the TV). When I started law school, I found all sorts of excuses not to work out (class, studying, meetings, etc.) and also, all sorts of excuses to indulge in the law school diet of fatty foods. Things did not get any easier once I started my job, for now I was sedentary for 10 hours a day. My only real exercise was getting up to get lunch!

About 2 months ago, my financial advisor turned me on to a weight loss program that he said was perfect to jump start my system. No, this is not a commercial for that program. In fact, I am going to keep the name of the program secret for the next 35 days. My blog will be an account of my journey on this program. Once day, I want to look back and read about this (hopefully 30 lbs lighter!). Come along for the ride if you like.

I started the program on June 19th. I have been very strict and not cheated at all during these first 6 days. The wonderful thing is that, though I am restricted to 600 calories a day, I am not feeling hungry. The hunger pains were always my major limitation, and when they used to arrive, I would shovel in anything that would make them go away. I haven't missed the sugar and fat that I have given up, and I am thankful that this diet is also serving to reboot my system by detoxing my poor organs. My new scale arrives today, and I am kinda nervous. I really should have weighed myself before the start of the diet, but oh well. Now I look forward to seeing the daily changes. I'll start to report daily weight loss (or lack thereof) as it happens.

The End

When I started this blog 4 years ago, it was intended to update friends and family on the details of my life as a law student. As time went on, the blog adapted, becoming part movie geek/nerd site and part storytelling site recounting my various adventures around Chicago. As time has progressed, I have suffered a certain loss of anonymity. I did not mind it, as most of the people who read my blog were friends of mine. At the same time, this lack of anonymity has kept me from sometimes opening up about my innermost thoughts and feelings.

During the last month, I have been absent from the blogsphere as I dealt with life as an attorney, a civil litigator in the field of intellectual property law. As my free time reduced itself by leaps and bounds, I noticed that I had to give up many of the things that I enjoy (some tv, video games, etc). At the same time, I realized that the blog could not serve its purpose as a web diary, for there were numerous times where I found myself editing my content for fear of hurting the people who might be reading. The problem, then, was that I was not being honest with myself, and I am a person who values trust over all else. Remember: "to thine own self be true."

I have a new blog site for myself. It is open to all (if you can find it), but I intend to keep this one a secret. I still will welcome anonymous feedback, but this is something I need to do for myself.

The funny thing is that I had written a very long and detailed account of my week at San Diego's ComicCon International show, but sometimes things pop in one's personal life that make one reflect on the bigger picture. I need to focus on that picture and get some of my thoughts recorded in anonymity. I started today, and it has been quite cathartic. I have a long way to go, however.

So thank you, dear readers, for keeping up with me. You were the reason I persevered. Maybe you will find me again.

In the meantime, read The Namby Pamby.

Sincerely

the Artful Blogger

In Honor of 40 Years Ago Today...

This is a short update, but I wanted to share with you what was REALLY going through everyone's mind when Neil Armstrong took his famous "leap" 40 years ago today.

Click on the photo to embiggen and read the article. You will laugh. Trust me.

A Brief Respite

Sorry for the brevity of the post, but I just wanted to announce the fact that I am, indeed, still alive. After months of dutifully updating my blog on a weekly basis, I have fallen off the wagon. However, I intend to rectify the situation this week. There is a lot of ground to cover, but as I am at work and have a full day ahead of me, that ground will have to wait until later tonight.

The Artful Dad

He was born in Kerala but moved to Kolkota at a very young age. His childhood was spent running with his friends along the shores of the Bay of Bengal, skipping rocks on the water and watching the people all around him. In his memories, those are some of the happiest. Shortly thereafter, due to his parents' desire to travel "unfettered and free", he and his older sister were shuttled from relative to relative for the rest of his childhood. These relatives never treated him as part of the family; even minor infractions were met with severe corporal punishment. At heart, he was a sweet and gentle soul. Such treatment at the hands of people who are supposed to love you might have stomped out such a characteristic from most boys, but he took them as lessons on how not to treat people. His family was poor yet descended from the line of a minor king. Many of his relatives were wealthy and chose to flaunt that wealth in the face of the poor little boy who did not even have parents who wanted him around. He formed some friendships among his schoolmates, but every time he formed such friendships, he was shipped off to yet another relative.

He yearned for real affection, but as a result of his childhood, he became a bit of a loner. His parents reentered his life as a teenager, and he set about trying to please them as much as he could, playing the part of a dutiful son in an effort to earn their love (something that a son should NEVER have to do). He wanted to be an engineer, but his mother told him that his future lay in medicine. He dutifully followed his mother's wish and enrolled in medical school, earning medals for excellence. After completing his medical school education, the time came for placement in a residency program. Rather than paying a bribe that would ensure that he received a very cushy assignment at a top teaching hospital, he refused and was sent to a remote mountaintop village. He learned to love his life there, as the villagers were appreciative of his presence, and he was able to form friendships with many of them. Upon being accepted to a master's in surgery program, his father sent for him and told him that it was time for him to be married. He did not want to be married and told his father this, but his father told him that dutiful sons listen to their elders. He acquiesced.

Now, arranged marriages in India vary from region to region. In his home state, eligible bachelors were brought by their parents or other "head of the family" to the home of the parents of the prospective bride. The BRIDE would say whether or not she liked the groom, and that was that. On one occasion, the young man was taken by his uncle to the home of a prominent lawyer. The lawyer's daughter was completing her own medical education and was of marrying age. The young man was not interested and told his uncle that he had no intention of marrying a physician. The uncle did not want to insult the lawyer and insisted that his nephew accompany him to the house. When they arrived, the lawyer's daughter took notice of the shy, quiet and intelligent young man and noticed his gentle manner. She fell for him at that moment. Unfortunately. the reverse did not seem to be the case. Her father told her that the young man had no intention of ever marrying a doctor. She grew sad, but she would not allow this to get her down. Over the next year, the young man made several visits to her home to visit with her father, her cousin (another woman who was of marrying age), and her. The young man spent a lot of time talking to the cousin, and the young woman figured that that would be a match. Her father insisted that she get married soon, and she told him that if she could not have the young man, she did not care WHO she married. Her father set up a match with an engineer.

One night, the woman was working on her clinical rounds and was told that a "Dr. Artful" was on the phone for her. She was puzzled but took the call.

"Hello?" she said.
"Hi," the young man said. "Someone told me you were getting married."
"Yes," she replied. "to an engineer."
"But I thought that WE were going to, " he responded.
"Going to what?" she asked, still very confused.
"aaah...ummm.." the young man hemmed and hawed. " I thought that we were going to marry each other."

Her heart stopped. WHAT? The arrangements had already been made with the other family! And yet, the man of her dreams was back into it. She did the only thing that was logical. She fussed at him.

"You have been visiting our home for a year and never said anything!" she said.

"I know," he replied. "I was getting to know you. You were yourself when you were not trying to catch my eye, and I wanted to get to know the real you."

"But you said you never wanted to marry a doctor!" she countered. "I will NOT give up my career to marry you. You know that, right?"

"You are the exception to the rule-in so many ways. I did not want to marry a doctor, but you changed my mind. I only want to marry you." he said.

"You picked a fine time to say this! The arrangements have already been made!"

"What do I do?" he asked.

"Let me talk to my daddy," she replied. "We will be getting married. I will see to it. In the meantime, let your family know of this."

She immediately called her father, and after much melodrama and threats of suicide, her father acquiesced to his daughter's wishes.

And the young man? What was it about this woman who turned his head? He had been a loner up until this point, never seeking out or receiving honest affection. What he saw in her eyes was a kind soul, someone who he could see being by his side for years to come. He saw someone who would love him unconditionally and saw his children in her face. After a lifetime of denying that he wanted affection and desired the happiness that comes with finding one's soulmate, he could not deny his own feelings.

They were married and moved to the United States, leaving behind his family that never wanted him and the life that gave him so much unhappiness. He became a successful physician and an amazing husband and father. To this day, he is a kind, gentle, and affectionate soul who is all about giving hugs, smiling and laughing when his wife and two boys are around.

Last night, Grace and I attended an AMAZING performance of "Fiddler on the Roof", starring Chaim Topol as Tevye, the role he made famous first in London's West End and then in the Academy Award-winning film version. It also happens to be the favorite musical of the Artful Dad. As I watched Tevye sing "If I were a Rich Man", I saw Dad chafing at the teasing of his rich cousins and being made to feel insignificant. When Tzeitel begged her father to break off the match with Lazar Wolf, I saw the Artful Mom doing the same thing when the Dad made his affection for her known. And, most poignant for me, was the performance of "Do You Love Me" by Tevye and his wife Golda. You see, my parents still sometimes gently sing this to each other even after 43 years of marriage.

This morning, on Father's Day, I called to regale him with stories about how wonderful the musical was and how much I missed him. He asked a lot of questions about it (Did he tell the joke about the chicken? Did they have horses on the stage? How did they do the train station? How did Topol look?) and he was as excited as I was. At the end of our conversation, I told him how much I wished he had been there to watch it with me. He grew quiet, and I could almost see the smile on his face as he whispered into the phone "me too."

It is so hard to believe that I have such an amazingly loving father when I consider the lack of love he received as a child. I am glad that he had the fortitude to persevere through his hard childhood and not let that change the fundamentally wonderful person he is inside. Whenever someone tells me how much I remind them of my Dad, I take it as the highest compliment one could give me. You see, if I become 1/10 of the man my father is, I would consider myself to have lived a successful life.

Happy Father's Day, Artful Dad.

Second Post Today: Strange Search Term that Brought Someone to My Site

OK, so one of my favorite posts was the one about my Mom. It turns out to be a popular post, as I have noticed on my tracking meter that quite a few people have read it.

So today, I was looking at the visitor stats and found that someone from India had clicked onto the story.

Awww, I thought to myself. Maybe someone has a similar story concerning their mother as well. That is awesome.

...until I discovered the google search terms that led them to my site:

"Only Stories that Indian Mom Became Pregnant by Her Own Son."

WHO THE HECK WOULD ENTER A SEARCH STRING LIKE THIS???? That was NOT what my story was about, but apparently it turns up in Google search because it has the words Indian, Mom, pregnant, and son as part of the overall story.

There are some deranged people out on the interwebs...

And All I Wanted Was a Free Movie...

I love movies. I watch them, I analyze them, and I (subjectively) criticize them. Those of you who have been reading my site for a while know that my love for movies is great. For example, even during the summer of the bar (also known as last summer), I made it a point to see every single big summer release leading up to and including "The Dark Knight" in IMAX (ONE WEEK before the bar).

I can pretty much deconstruct my love of movies into two categories: 1) Great Spectacle and 2) Artistic Filmmaking. In fact, just by knowing the name of the director, I can usually discern which of the two categories a particular film might fall into. Michael Bay, the "auteur" of "Transformers"? Spectacle. I am only going to see "Transformers 2" for a chance to see an IMAX-sized Megan Fox...er... Optimus Prime (yeah, that's it) battle with Megatron. Ridley Scott? A toss-up. His brother, Tony Scott? Spectacle. Michael Mann? Well, here there is a bit of both. Mann started his career as a writer on "Hawaii Five-O", the quintessential cop procedural of the 1970s that had, as its main character, a tough as nails Dirty Harry-type cop with a brain named McGarrett (what a great detective name). He went on to create the quintessential cop show of the 1980s (the one that defined "gritty") in "Miami Vice" and "Crime Story." "Miami Vice", it should be noted, launched the career of Dick Wolf, the show runner for the later seasons of "Miami Vice". Most people now know Dick Wolf as the creator and mastermind behind the "Law & Order" franchise, but Mann gave Wolf his first start. Michael Mann left television and became an acclaimed feature director, starting out with "Manhunter", the original film adaptation of Thomas P. Harris's first Hannibal Lecter novel, "Red Dragon". He then went on to direct Daniel Day-Lewis in "The Last of the Mohicans" and really found his stride with one of the best crime films ever made (in my opinion), 1995's "Heat", based on the true story of Chicago thief extraordinaire, Neal McCauley. Transporting the story to Los Angeles was a stroke of genius, as the viewers were treated to AMAZING night visuals of LA. I grew to appreciate Mann's eye for photographing a city at night. His skills were on display more recently in the under appreciated "Collateral" and the similarly under appreciated "Miami Vice" motion picture. No one shoots a city at night like Michael Mann.

Obviously, I am a fan of the Mann. Last summer, I was excited to find that Mann was location shooting his next film here in Chicago, a film called "Public Enemies". It was the story of John Dillinger and the cop who tracked him down. Think "Heat" but in the Roaring 20s. Johnny Depp stars as John Dillinger and Christian Bale as the cop trying to stop him. Great stuff.

So this brings me to last Saturday. I was visiting a movie website that I frequent, and I noticed a contest for an advanced screening of "Public Enemies". The film is due to be released on July 1, but I could not pass up an opportunity to see the film...for FREE...2 weeks before that. I entered the contest. The contest required the entrant to write a 75 word paragraph describing their favorite movie gangster. This is what I wrote:

Favorite Movie Gangster: Sung Tse-Ho as played by Ti Lung in John Woo's "A Better Tomorrow"

Reason: Ho was my introduction to the antihero archetype of John Woo's HK gangster films. The character grows tremendously throughout the course of the first 2 "A Better Tomorrow" films and shows human traits of loyalty, remorse, and anger that lead to bloodly retribution when those close to him are threatened or killed. This showing of humanity in a gangster's guise allowed me to sympathize with the bad guys and root for Ho and Mark's success.

I won the tickets, and I was excited. And then I learned something else. Both Johnny Depp and Christian Bale are scheduled to attend the screening (what with it being the Chicago premiere and all). And, more important to me, is the fact that the Mann himself will be there. So while my friends squeal about Johnny Depp being in town, I am more excited by the chance to meet this most talented filmmaker.

And to think-when I entered the contest, all I wanted was a free movie...

The Struggle for Hours

The billable hour is the bane of the existence of most civil attorneys. In order to HONESTLY bill the requisite 8.5 hours per day, an attorney usually must work 10-12 hours per day. Now, as one gets more efficient in one's work, the number of total hours that needs to be worked decreases until one can almost work an 8.5 hour day and bill for 8.5 hours. Until that point, however, younger lawyers (especially first years such as myself) struggle to to work diligently on projects while taking care to bill clients ONLY for hours that have been put into their specific projects. Of course, I am not going to knock the amount of hours that I have to work (well, not much). My firm compensates me quite well for my work. However, when I think of the actual amount of money that I get paid in relation to the salary that I am paid, the benefits appear to be less and less. There have been too many canceled plans with friends and loved ones and more than my share of working weekends.

I have reached the halfway point of my first year as an attorney (well, billable year, anyway). My firm's requirements for hours are 2000 billable hours (not too bad in a world where 2300-2800 per year is not unheard of, especially in the current economic climate). Today, I realized that my current workload is extremely light. I was worried. Though I know that, with the oncoming deluge of litigation I would again be busy, what was I going to do in the meantime? How would I make my hours? It was this fear that prompted me to tabulate the hours I have worked thus far. The result? So far, in 6 months, I have worked 1100 hours (billable).

Sweet.

What that means is that I am 100 hours ahead of pace. That equates to TWO WEEKS OF VACATION?

Yeah, I am done sweating my light workload for the rest of the week.

Namby, break out the 20 year old Macallan...

UPDATE:

A meeting today with the partner in charge of a big case (one that will engage me for years to come) pulled the trigger on a lot of activity. My chances of me billing my minimum hours TWO MONTHS IN ADVANCE just went way up. This will teach me to complain and worry about hours....

Stolen Lines #5

Tell me... have you ever thought...of changing your life?*

What a silly question-of course I had. It all started with my distrust of friends. With as many friends and acquaintances that I have now, it is hard to believe, but at one point, I trusted no one. The story is an old one-one of betrayal that, even now, some 22 years after it all happened, I still have problems writing about it. I had a best friend in school. We were both awkward kids trying to find our own way, but he and his family were always kind to me. They invited me to evenings a the local dinner theater and the various fish fries that would occur. We became very good friends. He was my first and closest buddy. I never flinched telling him about my worries, hopes and dreams. We talked about girls and the ones we were interested in. We talked about school and the changes that would occur once we were in the real world. We also talked about college and how we would still be best friends. Both of us were part of the gifted program in high school. We were in all of the accelerated courses together and, through most of high school, we were in academic competition with one another. I suppose it was that competition that proved to be too much for him.

I still remember the day of the betrayal. I was summoned to the principal's office. Apparently, someone had witnessed me cheating on a Government test. Really? I thought. That was odd. Government was one of my best classes. Why would someone think that I cheated? Nevertheless, the accusation was enough to put me on trial in front of the Honor Council. I was nervous-this was kind of surreal. At the trial, I was sure that I would be acquitted-I mean there was no evidence! This was too much.

And then my best friend showed up and told everyone there that he saw me change the answers on a test after it had been turned in. I was in shock. That had never happened. Yet, he was there bearing false witness. This was completely out of left field. I felt short of breath-my shirt felt tight around my chest. Just the other day, we had been making plans for after a running meet. Why was he doing this?

Tell me... have you ever thought...of changing your life?

At that point, I realized that I could trust no one. I would spend the rest of my life alone and would drive people away just so I would not have to live through a betrayal like this ever again. I had my revenge, of sorts. All of this happened during my 10th grade year. I went back to school as an 11th grader, and though I had been acquitted, whispers followed me around school.

"Artful is a cheater...no wonder he does so well on tests...the teachers should watch him...I mean, his OWN BEST FRIEND knows...cheater..."

Those were some of my darkest days. I had no one in my corner. I remember being depressed and I remember the emptiness of my school existence. I just put my shoulder to the grindstone and soldiered on. I did pretty well that year, and eventually the whispers died down. My former friend had taken all of our mutual friends with him, and I was left alone.

And then a funny thing happened-the first day back for my senior year, I was notified that I was one of two National Merit Finalists from our school. There was no cheating one's way to THAT! I also started taping the high school football games, and as payment, the principal gave me the BEST PARKING SPOT IN SCHOOL-a visitor's space right in front of the building. Fall gave way to spring, and I found that I had been accepted to all five of the schools that I had applied to. I was being invited to some of the football parties. I was letting people get to know a version of me...but not the real me...for as people were extolling my virtues and letting me know how glad they were to finally get to know me, I knew that they were not learning about the real me. At the same time, I took a small measure of pleasure in the fact that I was in the "in crowd" while my former friend was on the outside looking in. At the same time, this was all just superficial. I was counting the days until I could escape to college.

The first semester of college, I stuck to my guns and tried to maintain my independence. I was not a nice person...no...scratch that...I was an ASSHOLE. I now recognize it for what it was-a defense mechanism designed to drive people away from me and keep myself safe from getting hurt. It seemed to work pretty well. I never saw my actions as those of an asshole, but in retrospect, I cringe over some of the things that I said and did. The night that it all changed is something that is etched in my memory. I was in bed while others in my suite in the dorm were outside my room. They did not know I was in the suite. I could hear them talking...and the conversation turned to me and what a jerk I was. I started. That was never my intention-I never wanted to hurt anyone's feelings; I just wanted to be left alone. When my roommate came in, he was shocked to find that I was there the whole time. I felt horrible, but I told him that it was not nice that people said things behind my back. He asked me what did I expect? I had reached the point where my reputation at school was in danger of being permanent. He then asked me...

Tell me... have you ever thought...of changing your life?


I started. The problem was not with my former best friend-it was with ME. He will always have his shallow pathetic life, but that is no reason for me to have the SAME! My roommate (now one of my lifelong friends) and I spent the better part of the rest of the night talking. The next day, I took the step of finding everyone in my dorm suite and personally apologizing for my attitude and word of the previous six months. I knew that one apology would likely not be enough, and I intended that my actions would speak louder than my words. It took some time, but by the time my college years ended, I had made great strides and enjoyed many friendships. Since then, I have made a lot of friends, and the people who know me can attest to the fact that I am always ready with a smile on my face, a hug, and, where needed, a good glass of wine and a sofa for conversation.

Still...sometimes my mind goes back to the events of high school and the patience that my college roommate showed in giving me another chance. Where would I be had he not done that? Likely, I would be alone and would not have the blessings of so many friends and acquaintances who care about me. I made a conscious effort to change everything that night, and though it is hard sometimes, I still make an effort to be open and honest with the people that I meet. Of course, I always run the risk of getting hurt, but without risk, there could be no reward-and the rewards have vastly outweighed the hurt over the years.

*I stole the first line of this post from the play, Betrayal, by Harold Pinter as part of Grace's Stolen Lines series of blog posts.

Notes from Happy Hour at the Artful Blogger's Bachelor Pad

Date: 06/04/09

Attendees: the Alleged Lady and the Namby Pamby (and two others). Daisy and the Esquirer were ensconced watching their beloved Red Wings lose to the awesome Penguins (heh heh) and Grace was otherwise occupied, so it was just the four of us.

Fun notes:

1) Namby was exhausted from his adventures of the previous evening (read no sleep for Namby). He and the Lady arrived at the same time, and they immediately wanted to see my new Denny Crane chairs. What are those, you may ask? Well, in the television show "Boston Legal", the characters Alan Shore and Denny Crane would close out each show sitting in amazing Italian plastic patio chairs that looked like easy chairs, smoking cigars and drinking Scotch. Yes, I purchased my own pair of these chairs for my balcony. After looking at (and experiencing) the chairs, Namby went inside to make himself a drink, and the Lady called for him to make one for her as well. Namby proceeded to make a dirty vodka on the rocks (Belvedere + olive juice) for the Lady-or so he thought. He was adding Bombay Sapphire gin to a martini shaker, and I asked him what he was doing? "Oh, making the Lady's drink", he proclaimed. "The Lady asked for Vodka, Namby", I replied. Namby looked at me quizzically and then nodded. He corrected himself and decided to make a gin and tonic for himself. At this point, one might assume that he simply poured the gin from the martini shaker into a glass and added tonic. One would be wrong. Namby proceeded to add tonic water to the shaker and SHAKE IT UP (cue song from the Cars).

Tonic water, as Namby soon realized, is carbonated. Cue gin and tonic carbonation explosion all over my living room.

Yes, the suave, debonair Namby Pamby was COMPLETELY out of it yesterday.

2) I put out an assortment of cheeses, fruits, and nuts. I tend to go overboard on my cheese trays, and I have a fondness for softer cheeses and some firmer Goudas. As my guests were remarking on the wonderful textures and flavors, the Lady offered this bon mot:

"I only really like them when they are REALLY HARD AND REALLY SMELLY."

Namby and I snorted (after all, at heart, we both have the sense of humor of 12 year olds).

"That's what she said."


3) Because he lives in the burbs, Namby has taken to occasionally crashing in my guest room. Unfortunately, on those occasions, he has failed to bring changes of clothes and...ah...undergarments. This has led to at least one occasion with Namby asking to borrow my underwear.

Yeah.

Anyway, on this occasion, I told Namby to remember a change of clothes for the next day. Namby showed up with a new shirt, a fresh box of underwear, and fresh socks. Because he left early enough to catch a train, he did not need them, but he proposed leaving the items at my place for future nights in town. So now-Namby has a drawer in a dresser in my guest room. I think that I feel a little uncomfortable with that. The Lady, of course, found this all hysterical.

4) The Lady kicks butt on the drums (when she does not drop the sticks), guitar, AND the microphone on Rock Band. Namby, on the other hand, made an admirable effort but was coordinationally challenged with the instruments (although, to his credit, this was his first time playing the game's instruments). Namby does, however, know how to belt out a tune.

5) Near the end of the evening, Namby proposes watching the film Iron Man, a film that the Lady had not watched. I set it up and we settle in to watch. Namby asks for more wine, and I provide it. He then promptly falls asleep.

6) The Lady and I agree that "When Harry Met Sally" is the best romcom out there. Namby feels it is "Love, Actually" and that "Notting Hill" is a close second. I think that Namby has an unhealthy infatuation with Hugh Grant.

I cannot wait for the next gathering.

Tips on Getting Tips from the Artful Blogger

We have all been there-dining out with cheapskate friends who think nothing of running their waiter or waitress ragged and then neglects to leave any tip or-much worse-leaves something akin to loose change, believing that such monies pass as acceptable tips. I always cringed when I witnessed their actions. Wait staff (well, most of them, anyway) work hard for their money. They carry the food, bus the tables, refill our drinks, and bring us our check. They also listen to our myriad of demands for changes within the dishes that we order. In my life, for the most part, I have been lucky in that I have had good service when dining at restaurants. At the same time, I must mention that I am courteous and polite to the staff, never ordering them around or barking orders at them. They are people to and deserve the same respect that I would give my supervisors at work (something that the Artful parents instilled in me). The same goes for when I ride in cabs. For the most part, I am polite to my cab drivers and engage them in conversation about Chicago sports, whether it is a busy night for them, and what the tourists are doing in Chicago on a particular evening. As with wait staff, I am usually pretty generous about tipping in cabs.

In both cases, however, I have noticed that there are times where I really DO NOT WANT TO TIP ANYTHING. Poor service by itself is inexcusable, yet we have been conditioned to automatically tip for wait service and for cab service. So here is my list of "dos and don'ts" for wait staff and cab drivers for getting good tips from me:

Wait Staff:

• Refill my drink with stealthy skill. If my soda is constantly being replenished in a manner where I do not notice the staff, that is amazing. These skillful individuals ALWAYS get an excellent tip from me.
  

• Stop by to see if everything is OK with the meal. Do NOT just save these visits for when we JUST get the meal-at that time, we have not had a chance to partake and determine if everything is to our satisfaction. Check back periodically and do not disappear for long periods of time.

• Pay attention to the needs of your customer. This Monday, my brother and sister-in-law took me to dinner to thank me for taking care of their awesome dog Pepper for the week (I really miss the dog now). While there, my sister-in-law wanted to order dessert to go, and we settled on an ice cream concoction. The waitress assured us that it would be packed and would make the 10 minute trip to my place with ease. She dropped off the dessert...and disappeared. No check came out. We waited for 5 minutes..then 10 minutes...then 15 minutes...at which time she stopped by our table to drop off our check. She then proceeded to disappear for ANOTHER 15 minutes-knowing that we had FREAKING ICE CREAM for take out. She should have been more aware-it is not that hard to close out a check and come back to check on payment. Epic FAIL for her.
  

Cabbies:

• CLEAN YOUR CABS. Nothing is worse than being stuck in a cab with the windows shut with a cabbie who has not bathed since 1998. I am talking NAUSEATING. Either that or make sure the windows are rolled down....no, just bathe....PLEASE.
  

• DO NOT TALK ON YOUR PHONE-I do not care if you do not talk to ME so long as you just pay attention to your freaking job! You have one thing to do-get me from point A to point B safely and efficiently. Remember that!
  

• Get there faster. You might think that you are pulling one over on me, but I know my way around Chicago in whatever state I may be in. Last night, I met the Namby Pamby out for drinks after work and haled a cab to get home. After I gave the cabdriver my address, he proceeded to turn left and head towards Michigan Avenue. At that point, I knew that he was NOT getting a good tip, for there is another street that he had to CROSS where, if he had taken it, I would be home much faster, as that street has 1/4 the number of lights and twice the speed limit. Furthermore, the cabdriver made his way gingerly through the streets in an OBVIOUS bid to catch some RED LIGHTS. Umm...no, I am trying to get some place as fast as possible. DO NOT PULL THAT BS ON ME. At one point, we were behind a car in the left lane and the right lane was open. By this time, I was HOT. I knew this guy was trying to gyp me and I said, out loud, "FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!!". Amazingly, the cabdriver rediscovered the gas pedal and zoomed all the way home. Nerts to him, though. Rather than the $3-6 tip I usually give based on speed of travel, he was allowed to keep the 50 cents left over when I handed him $7 for a $6.50 bill. AND he did not drop me off in front of my building near the door (2 car lengths away).
  

For those of you who need a laugh

Grace posted this video a while back, but it still never ceases to make me laugh out loud. Enjoy!

My Stolen Lines #4

Feeling both empowered and terrified as I drove into work, I looked up at the sky and started talking*

This is what it all came down to.  7 years in Baltimore, toiling for less than a living wage, trying to unlock secrets of the human genome and training myself to be a scientist.  7 years being summed up in a single one hour seminar given before the entire department, a question and answer session to follow with my dissertation committee.  

I had come so far, yet I was frightened.  As I drove into work, I started talking to myself:

Artful, you know more about this subject than ANYONE else in the room.  You are an expert!  You are the man!  You are...completely pathetic and all by yourself.  There is no one to celebrate with you when it is over.  You are going to get into your car and drive to your best friends wedding.  Jesus Christ...I have spent my 20s in school and have no one, and my best friend is getting on with his life and marrying the woman of his dreams.  Where did the time go?

It has not SEEMED like 7 years.  I remembered coming to Baltimore intending just to get my Masters as a stepping stone to going to medical school.  I remembered moving to Baltimore right out of graduating from UVA and living in a dormitory a hop, skip and a jump away from Camden Yards.  

When I first came to Baltimore, I remembered that I was amazed by the quality of individuals in my program.  These were hardcore scientists, and I never felt that I measured up.  Over time, however, I learned and became more adept at "doing the science."  I mastered the fine art of immunohistochemistry, cell culture, and PCR.  I KNEW the science backwards and forwards with my project.  

My project...that in itself was a long road taken.  Originally, I was looking at Peripheral Arterial Disease in the elderly and using a real patient population for my studies.  I remember running people through stress tests and measuring their peak VO2.  I remember administering resting metabolic rate tests to these individuals and learning how to take a blood pressure measurement manually while someone was on a treadmill.  I remember meeting one of the best people I have ever met, someone I have since lost touch with-a very good friend.  I also remember the day when my mentor lost his funding-2 years into my research.  I had to start from scratch all over again, and I chose to go molecular.  

The lab I chose was a good one, but the week before I joined, my new mentor lost his lab assistant of 9 years-the assistant had committed suicide.  My mentor to be would never be the same after that.  I became the de facto lab head, trying to work on my PhD while running the lab.  I became frustrated, as I saw others in my department actually being trained and graduating while I was stuck in the lab.  I was doing good work, yet my mentor never thought it was enough.  I remember the day when I finally said ENOUGH!  I scheduled a committee meeting, and at the end, one of the committee members told me that I was ready and I should write it up,  My mentor was stunned, and I was elated.  

I went on interviews for postdocs and accepted a position in Chicago so that I could be closer to my brother, who was starting his own fellowship.  I was scheduled to move a month after my dissertation defense.  I was scheduled to defend in September.  

And the day before my defense, my mentor pulled one more cruel trick on me and said it was not good enough.  I screamed to the heavens that night.  WHY?  I had endured so much.  I had suffered.  I had run the gauntlet, yet I was denied the last bit of satisfaction.  I ended up moving in October, and I had to schedule my defense again.  I remember the anticipation and the fear as if it were yesterday.  I was staying at a hotel in town, and I had a rental car.  The morning of my defense, I looked over my slides over and over again as I wolfed down breakfast.  My stomach was uneasy, yet I knew that I would need my strength.  I then got into my car and started what I hope would be the last drive I would have to make to campus.  

Feeling both empowered and terrified as I drove into work, I looked up at the sky and started talking.

I went over my notes and then cursed the sky for putting me in this position.  Where had the time gone?  What happened if I did not pass?  Would I have to move back here and start anew? Would I ever be able to go on with life?  I felt so alone.  

I arrived on campus and made my way to the seminar room.  The seminar room was packed with members of the department.  What I also noticed is that a lot of my friends were there, people who made the trip back just to support me.  They took up the front rows of the room so that they could act as a line of defense for the hard questions.  One of my  best friends told me that if I was faced with the tough questions, I could look at her and she would nod her head in a gentle manner to assure me that I was doing fine.  

I then gave the talk of my life.  I do not know what happened, but I OWNED THE ROOM. Every snarky question that was asked by a faculty member was deftly met with sound scientific answers.  My mentor even grudgingly had to admit that I had passed.  The battle-no, the WAR-was over.  I had done it.  I had my PhD.  I would always have it.  I had not given up and fought the good fight.  I was DONE WIITH SCHOOL (ok, maybe not).  

Now, as I look back at those years in Baltimore, I cannot help but have mixed emotions.  It was so much a part of my life-7 years in the same city meeting so many different people.  Four of my best friends, 2 serious girlfriends, summer nights at the harbor, in Fells Point, in Canton, or in the mountains, winters spent struggling with the snow and the ice, never giving up and never surrendering my goal.  

Since then, I have not gone back to my school.  There are too many painful memories associated with it.  Still, we all are the sum total of our life experiences.  I would not be the person that I am today if I had not gone through my Baltimore experience.  I would not have the friends I enjoy or my godson who currently resides in Florida.  I knew moments of insane happiness and sadness in Baltimore.  But the one thing Baltimore gave me that I have never experienced since and will likely never experience again was the high of seeing all of the signatures of my committee members on the dissertation passage report sheet.  I HAD DONE IT!  That is a high that made it all worthwhile, the only accomplishment in my life where the end was nowhere NEAR anticlimactic.  

*I Stole the first line of this post from Stay Tuned, by Jennifer Weigel. This is part of Grace's ongoing Stolen Lines Experiment.

An X-Rated conversation with the Namby Pamby

The setting: my car

The occupants: me and the Namby Pamby

The scene: driving north from Downtown Chicago for a sushi dinner with the Alleged Lady, Grace, and the Dirty Hippie

Cue scene:

Artful and Namby are driving through Namby's old neighborhood on the way north. Artful is behind the wheel and Namby is commenting on the sights and sounds.

Namby: "This was where my Jewel (a local grocery store) used to be."

Artful (trying to be witty like Namby. but failing miserably): "The Jewel of the Nile?"

Namby: "Where is that from?"

Artful: "Umm..the movie? "The Jewel of the Nile"? Sequel to "Romancing the Stone"

Namby: "That's where it's from!"

Silence, as I try to come up with something more witty. Then...

Artful: "I think it is also the name of a porn star."

Namby (laughing loudly): "Artful, you really are knowledgeable about all films!"

Now, keep in mind that I have NEVER frequented an adult theater, but I continued on, driven by Namby's laughter.

Artful (emboldened by Namby's laughter and trying to make it continue): "Yessir-nothing beats a good nudie theater. I mean, the soft focus, the soft seats..."

Namby: "Premoistened, of course..."

Artful: "Of course! and all the free tissues that you need...everyone there for the same purpose, a brotherhood of sorts. One giant circle jerk."

Namby (shouting and laughing with glee): "HA!! CIRCLE JERK!"

When uttering the words, Namby failed to realize that 1) he was shouting, as he does often and 2) the windows and sunroof of the car were open. These realizations slowly dawned on him when he looked to his right after shouting "CIRCLE JERK" and saw a woman in a car with her windows open, looking at the two of us with open disgust and turning away as Namby waved his fingers to her and sheepishly said "Hi!"

Seriously, I cannot make this stuff up.

Star Trek: The Review

10 minutes.

That is all it took for JJ Abrams to make a believer out of me.

10 minutes.

Let us set the stage for my viewing of Star Trek. IMAX? Check. Perfect seats? Check. Enthusiastic crowd? Check. Worries? Check.

Why worries? Well, as I said in my earlier post, I grew up on classic Trek. The Next Generation was during my college and grad school years. I had read of how Abrams was making wholesale changes to canon, and that worried me. You see, he had attempted something similar with Superman a few years ago in which Luthor morphed into a survivor of the planet Krypton and Superman had all sorts of strange new powers.

Yeah, I know.



So as the lights dimmed, and the never ending parade of production company logos played out across the screen, I waited, anxiously. The giant IMAX screen was filled with the images of Abrams interpretation of a Starship bridge. There was no indication of when these events were taking place. We found out that we were on the bridge of the USS Kelvin. Business as usual is going on until a massive lightning storm anomaly appears in front of the ship. An enormous ship emerges from the anomaly-a great black hulking monstrosity with tentacles of metal reaching out towards the smaller ship. Immediately the Kelvin is under attack-an AMAZINGLY dynamic space battle. Gone are the days of slow moving models on strings with hit or miss phaser shots from the various banks. In this version ,the camera was dynamic as it swooped and turned around the space battle. However, as cool as that was, what caught my attention early on was the human component of the story. Within the first 10 minutes, Abrams introduced us to 3 characters who we honestly cared about and developed an emotional connection to before things changed for them forever. Right at the climax-opening title credit. I was breathless. I turned to Alleged Lady and said "THAT was the first FREAKING 10 minutes? HOLY CRAP-this is already one of the best Trek films I have seen."

I did have to adjust my feelings as the film wore on, however. It became not only one of the best Trek films I have ever watched but one of the most enjoyable action films I have ever watched. We the audience were treated to the creation of the legends of James Tiberius Kirk and Spock of Vulcan. We saw each of the secondary crew members have their moment in the sun. We see Karl Urban INHABIT the role of Leonard McCoy. Most importantly, we see a story that was NOT bogged down in technobabble and expansive views out the screen of the ship. With Abrams, the audience felt INVOLVED with the story and not mere spectators. The screenwriters made some bold story choices as well and changed the historical timeline for Trek for good. One major event was stunning in how it forever altered Spock's role in the story.

SPOILERS BELOW:

Changes in Trek lore include the destruction of the planet Vulcan, the death of Spock's mother Amanda, a libidinous Spock involved with Uhura, the death of Kirk's father well before he was supposed to die, and the permanent residence of Spock from 120 years into the future into the past. Of all of these changes, the only thing that did not sit well with me was the libidinous Spock. It changed one of the fundamental aspects of the character for no good reason. Other than that, however, none of the changes to Trek canon particularly bothered me in a "get a life" kind of way.

SPOILERS END:

The real effect of these changes is that now, many of the events first depicted in the original 1960s series never happened. That series is now considered an alternative timeline from what was introduced in Star Trek: the movie. That is not a big deal. What is important is that this movie injects energy into a moribund franchise that desperately needed it AND allowed people too eager to dismiss Star Trek as the epitome of nerddome to enjoy a new story and finally be able to understand what it was about the characters that made it so great. The music was great, the special effects were stunning, and the performances were...wow. Chris Pine IS James T. Kirk. Karl Urban IS Leonard McCoy.

I am excited for what the future of the franchise holds, and I am excited to see new fans embracing the...dare I say it...coolness of the franchise. I never thought that Star Trek would ever be considered cool, but as Chris Pine's steel blue eyes glared out across the screen (causing Alleged Lady to turn away from the "incredible hotness in front of" her), I knew that the cast would be a hit with the non-fans. This is the beginning of something great. I am glad that I got to experience it AND I cannot wait to see it again.