Supernatural

This last year, we discovered "Supernatural". I know it's been on TV for a few years now, but I thought it looked cheesy and thought that the premise (from the teasers) was thin. When a friend of mine (the same one who recommended Buffy, Coupling, and a number of other great shows) turned out to be a fan, I gave it a shot.

I was pleasantly surprised at how fantastic this show is. The writing is smart, the dialog is funny and sharp, and the characters are nicely developed over the course of the program. It's Buffy meets The Dukes of Hazzard with a little of The Odd Couple thrown in for good measure. I really like their take on the various mythos and urband legends,and the two protagonists are so handsome that they ought to be required to carry a permit for their potentially lethal good looks. Google them at your own peril.

The basic premise is that there are two brothers who go around hunting the things that go bump in the night, and their relationship feels a bit Kirk/Spock-ish. In a good way. It's about friendship, general badass-ery, but most importantly, it's about the good and the bad when it comes to family. (It also has an *incredible* soundtrack, full of classic rock.) Every episode is "a good one!", and the best part of the whole thing is that they don't take themselves - or anyone else - too seriously.

Anyway, to bring this back to the point of the story (which is always knitting), we attended the Sock Summit before I got really into the show, and I bought some sock yarn. (Gasp!)

The gal from Damselfly Yarns was a die-hard Supernatural fan, and dyed this colorway which was inspired by the demon cloud at the beginning of Season 2:

It might have been the combination of the color and the silver threads that are spun into this yarn, but I had to have it. Magpie, much?

In any case, Astrid was enthusiastically telling me about the source of her inspiration, and I couldn't share her excitement about perfectly capturing the color- because I hadn't seen it yet! I was inspired to cast these on when I saw the demon cloud fill the sky at the beginning of the season, and I thought, "I have yarn that looks *just* like that!" (Well done, Astrid!)

I paused the DVD, scampered back to my office and grabbed the skein so I could have a themed knitting project to go with the entertainment. (And for the record, I plan to spin "One" while I watch "A Chorus Line". And do a kickline at my wheel.)

I've been slowly plugging away at these socks, using them as my carryalong project. Season 5 is coming out on DVD next week and if I don't finish the socks before then, I'm seeing some ab-filled knitting time in my future.

There are certainly worse things in life.

Oh, Canada!

I'm celebrating Canada Day this year, by awarding my first ever Favorite Canadian award. The nomination process is rigorous ("Really? X is Canadian?"), and the voting is done by a panel of incredibly discerning judges (read: me). It's really the best way of making good decisions.

The 2010 Favorite Canadian Award goes to, drumroll please...

Michael Bublé!

I saw him for the first time on the Graham Norton show this past fall, while Mom was indulging in a little daytime TV. He was cute enough, but it was when I heard him sing that I was *instantly* transformed into the giggly 13-year old girl who had just heard Frank Sinatra sing for the first time again. Since it was between November 1st and December 25th, I couldn't rush out and buy his CD.

(I'm - evidently - pretty hard to shop for, so the family has requested that I not make purchases just before my birthday through Christmas.)

At some point after Christmas, I picked up his CDs. All of them. He's covered most of my favorite Frank Sinatra standards, and a few songs from other folks that I really liked. I may have played the Bublé playlist a thousand times in a week. If it was a record, it would have worn out; if it was a cassette tape, it would have spaghetti-ed. All hail digital music!

Andrew, ever the sly one, bought me tickets to the Bublé concert in Oakland, which he gave me for Valentine's Day. Michael Bublé is the ultimate performer, and even after four encores, I was left wishing the concert was just a *little* bit longer. Might I add that seeing him dressed as a Mountie during the Olympics wasn't bad, either. Just saying. Who doesn't love a man in uniform?

What really locked him in as the winner of the 2010 Favorite Canadian award was his appearance on SNL. (If you haven't seen it, check out the Hamm and Bublé sketch.) Well done, Michael!

Not to be forgotten, but the Honorable mentions for the 2010 Favorite Canadian award include The Savvy Girls, Ryan Reynolds' abs, and Alanis Morissette (for her performance on Season 5 of Weeds).

Speaking of men in vests...

I'm going to harken back to the late '90s, and remind you that there was a man so bold as to wear a vest on network television. A man SO bold as to wear a vest, on television, shirtless.

That man is none other than Kevin Sorbo. Go ahead, laugh; I do. Not many men can pull off the shirtless vest, but I assure you, Kevin Sorbo is in those ranks. I have been powering through Hercules: The Legendary Journeys via my favorite medium for cheesy, B-Movies: Netflix Instant Watch.

Maybe it's his epic chest. Maybe it's the tight pants. Perhaps it's the Microsoft Paint special effects equivalent. Maybe it's the Hasselhoffing (definition #6). Maybe it's the timeless quotability, including classic lines like, "Slavery is just WRONG" and "I'm not just a piece of meat". Sing it, Herc.

It could very well be the intense cheese factor; take Captain Hammer, stick him in a wheel of brie, bake him, sprinkle him with toasted almonds, and he still doesn't measure up to the cheese factor that is Kevin Sorbo as Hercules.

To be fair (and balanced!), I've also queued Xena: Warrior Princess. The icing on the Herculean cake *might* be the fact that Lucy Lawless was a random red-shirty-slave-girl in an early episode, becomes Xena, then dons the hyper-masculine Romulan shoulder accoutrement. (By the way, Lucy Lawless? Crazy long legs. I even liked her as a cylon.)

No apologies, no excuses, just, "Hey, Lucy Lawless is super-hot. Let's make her a superhero." That's exactly the kind of decision making I like to see in my entertainment. Forget about continuity, just cast all willy nilly, get drunk, and write dialogue.

Hm. Sounds kind of like my dream job. Think Christian Williams needs a hand?

What is it about a man in a vest?

While working on my Tour de Fleece projects, I've been working my way through a couple of new TV shows- including The Mentalist. I tripped across it by accident (and given my affinity for Psych, decided to give it a chance), and I have to say... wow.

Now, I'm not going to Clark Kent all over it because suspension of disbelief is part of the joy that is television. So, you're not going to get another attack of the implausible [noun] this time.

First- Simon Baker/Patrick Jane has the best Botox-ed forehead EVER. An un-paralyzed forehead has nothing on him- and even (shockingly) looks unnatural. Weird, right?

Second- he wears a VEST. Seriously. Evidently, vests aren't just for ushers and magicians anymore. He might be the only man on television who wears a vest, but I'll be damned if he doesn't rock it.

(Talking about underrated accessories- Mom pointed out that Gabrielle Anwar rocks a fanny pack on Burn Notice. Take that, you fanny pack haters!)

I'm sure the discussion that made that wardrobe decision went something like this:

Wardrobe Person #1: We want him to be different. Quirky.
Wardrobe Person #2: Maybe we should have him wear obnoxious ties, or a belt buckle, or mismatched socks!
Wardrobe Person #1: Nah, that's been done on Bones. And Criminal Minds.
Wardrobe Person #2: Hm. Since he works with law enforcement, maybe it should be a special tie.
Wardrobe Person #1: No way. They're California law enforcement. Nobody in California wears a tie to work.
Wardrobe Person #2: Flip flops?
Wardrobe Person #1: Flip flops aren't shoes. We need something that says, "Hey, I respect my work AND I'm unconventional."
Wardrobe Person #2: I know. A VEST. Nobody wears a vest anymore!
Wardrobe Person #1: GENIUS.

And so it was. The Vested Man.

My cup runneth over!

There is no TV event I look forward to more than the Tony Awards. I'm a giant geek, and while I completely understand that they aren't really representative of the whole New York theatre scene, it's a taste of fresh theater.

I love it. They also pick the HUNKIEST hosts, including my one and only Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), and this year, my first love (Neil Patrick Harris) will be hosting. Neil Patrick Handsome- I mean, Harris - is the origin of my affinity for spiky, "sticky-up" hair.

My six-year-old crush on him was the reason my parents let me stay up past my bedtime to watch Doogie Howser, Md. Though, in retrospect, I think it may have been my parents, telling me from an early age that marrying a doctor was all right with them. In any case, NPH has always held a special place in my heart, and now he's hosting the Tony's.

I have a morbid curiousity about "Shrek: The Musical", but my instincts warn me that where all the good books become mediocre movies, all good movies will become cheerful, sanitized, simplified musicals.

(Legally Blonde, anyone? Ok, short rant: they made Elle stupid in the play as a plot device to give Emmett the opportunity to tutor her, which COMPLETELY missed the spirit of the story. In case you weren't paying attention, the point is that she always WAS smart, just perceived to be otherwise.)

Where are the original thinkers? What's with all the revivals?

Ahem. But, I digress.

Neil has got some big shoes to fill - and you know what they say about guys who wear big shoes - and long legs to keep up with.

Stunning, long, keeping-up-with-the-Rockettes-in-a-kick-line legs.

Sometimes Vulcans wear ugly sweaters, too.

So, it's been more than a week since the new Star Trek was released. Before I say anything else, it is only fair to say that I LOVED this movie, I think it was brilliant, witty, fun, and Zachary Quinto plays one hot Vulcan.

I think what I might have liked best about this movie was that we get some interesting alternate exposition. We see Spock as a child, and later, as a young adult. We learn that despite logic, even a Vulcan has to wear the Ugly Sweater.

We all know the Ugly Sweater. The one that some well-intentioned family member (or family friend) made for you. The one that itched, or grew, or had some dorky intarsia. Since none of the other Vulcans in the film wore ugly, ill-fitting sweaters made of acrylic (Homespun, anyone?) over their beautifully tailored outfits, I can only deduce there is one person to blame.

Winona Ryder. Aka, Mrs. Sarek, Amanda Grayson, and most importantly, Spock's Mom. She strikes me as the Ugly Sweater knitting type. (Would it be cliche to make a joke about her shoplifting something better for him than ACRYLIC?)

Poor Spock. As if he wasn't a pariah enough for being half human; now he has to don the Ugly Sweater of Half-Human Shame that his mother made for him. Nobody spoke up for him.

My mother saved me from an Ugly Sweater (which, by the way, would have been the autumn-colored, cardiganed sister of Spock's USoHHS) in high school. I saw the end result, which the offending relative decided to make for herself and it was a crime against knitting. A CRIME!

Someone needs to stop the madness. If you happen to witness a crime against knitting, please call the [fictional] Crimes Against Knitting Hotline: 1-800-STOP-THE-ACRYLIC.

For my next trick...

Impressive disappearing trick I did, no? Andrew and I both took some time off of work, and took the oh-so trendy "staycation", where you take time off work and stay home. This economy is AWESOME!

Andrew started this off by building me a new closet.

Before:

Before you get all judge-y, remember that I'm only 5'1", and have an unparalleled love of shoes.

After:

Fancy, right?

Now, After and full!:

Huge difference. I can reach all of my "everyday" stuff. There is room for all of my shoes. Andrew also redid his closet, and I've been offered some real estate over there as well.

I have a drawer for my shawls, and my "special" shawls (my Alison shawl and my Orenburg) have their own sweater box and shelf, and I am in OCD hog heaven. Andrew is also thrilled, since he usually got stuck putting a stack of sweaters away, since I couldn't reach them. Now there's even a little room for my stepladder. (Look to the space at the far right. It's there.)

My next step is to build the closets for seasonal clothing storage, and move my spring dresses in where my suits are hanging. (Suits. As in four of them. How did I end up with four suits?) This way, my heavy winter coats won't monopolize our hall coat closet, and our guests won't have to pile their things behind the couch. Very civilized.

There has been knitting. There has been spinning. There has also been some crazy awesome organization. Stay tuned.

Not to say 'I told you so'

Dear Andrew;

Thank you for shoring up the big bookshelves (and the shelves) in my office two weeks ago. I know I had put the "honey-do" note up in December, and was a little too excited when you did it while I was out with Tika. Because, living in California, it's important to have tall bookshelves secured.

Especially since today, a little more than two weeks later, we had a 4.6 earthquake. You're a great husband, and handy to boot.

Love,

Me

Dr. B's cure for knitting ennui

If you listened to episode 44 of the podcast, you know that my knitting has taken a nosedive. Into a pile of elephant crap. For three weeks, not only has every project run into a major snag, but the more current issue is thatI lost my will to knit. Very serious. Life-threatening, even, for those unfortunates in my immediate vicinity.

I have been suffering from knitting ennui, which is what happens when Knitter's Block goes untreated. Like an infection that gets worse. By Tuesday, when I had an appointment with the esteemed Dr. B, I was at the point where my knitting mojo was going to go septic. (I'll stop the infection analogy here.)

Our conversation went a lot like this:

Me: So, I can't knit.
Dr. B: Like, there is a problem with your hands?
Me: No. I can't knit. Everything I touch turns to crap.
Dr. B: Are you doing something differently?
Me: Same stuff. Easy stuff. There is something wrong with me. And now, I don't want to knit. I'm Sock Blocked!

(At this point, Dr. B chuckled at my interpretation of crude slang to appropriately fit the situation, and I proceeded to repeat the entire "When Knitting Attacks" segment from episode 44. Then, I said something to the effect of, "I'm sure they didn't warn you about having to deal with crazy knitters in school.")

At the end of my story, I asked for a magic solution. (Every time I go in, I explain my problem, and then request a solution, formula, or list. This works, I swear. He's just *that* good.)

So, Dr. B recommended using mindfulness practices to determine the source of the Knitter's Block. [For a great explanation of mindfulness and knitting, go listen to this episode of Cast-on.] What was I thinking about when I was working on these projects, or thinking about these projects that made them SO difficult or unappealing?

So, I did. I saw my Knit(more)-a-long sweater sitting there, on the table. After a Napoleon Dynamite-esque sigh, I determined that it was stupid to allow a large swath of stockinette stitch defeat me, and I had a movie to watch. Believe me, you don't want to face a cinematic gem like Saw 5 without some knitting.

Somehow, just auto-piloting on the Katarina sweater while watching people mutilate themselves knocked my knittng ennui right on it's ass. If knitting ennui has an ass. Though, maybe my knitting was intimidated by the film; maybe it thought I would take a Jigsaw-esque approach to it's attitude.

(That would be, for those of you who don't like gorey, poorly concieved sequels, "Shape up or lose a sleeve," in order to give the sweater a REAL appreciation for it's life.)

In any case, not only is my mojo back online, but I've also cast on a "Coachella" top, in the Tess Microfiber Ribbon. Luscious! Ignore the fact that I have done the front three times, since I managed to misinterpret the directions incorrectly the first two times. I have; the consensus is that it's going to look HOT on me.

(By the way, for your own dose of Dr. B-esque strategies, go give Dr. Gemma a listen.)

Patrick Wilson and the naked clause

I mentioned in my previous post that I have a sneaking suspicion that Patrick Wilson may have a "naked clause" in his rider, stating that in order to participate in a play or movie, he needs to have at least one nude scene.

(Mind you, I'm not complaining, I'm just noticing. The man looks good au naturale, or "a la mode" as it is referred to in our house.)

Proof: The Full Monty (on Broadway), Watchmen, Lakeview Terrace, and Angels in America.

Tika pointed out that he wasn't naked- or even shirtless- in Phantom of the Opera, but I have a theory that they filmed a nude scene to appease Patrick, and then explained that it didn't make the movie due to length. That's showbiz, kid.

Since I am concerned with only reporting accurate information here, I have taken it upon myself to queue up all of his movies. For now, you have the list.

You're welcome.

Aaaahhstralia...

I have blogged about my deep and lasting love of one Hugh Jackman. Maybe it's those long legs, that were clearly designed to be in a showgirls style kick line, maybe it's the singing, maybe it's his 'do as Wolverine. Maybe it's that he gave Barbara Walters a lapdance. Whatever it is, Hugh has got it.

I may have metioned that Andrew feels similarly about Nicole Kidman. Ok, so we missed the proverbial boat on seeing Australia in the movie theaters, but we got it as soon as it was available on Netflix.

The movie was panned, but movie reviewers and I often don't see eye to eye, so I disregarded that bit of information, and we popped in the DVD. Beautiful scenery, beautiful people, but alas, that famous Baz Luhrmann cinemetography, which had the exact effect of making the movie feel cheesey. It's also narrated by the "mixed blood" child in the movie, in what feels like a HORRIFIC stereotype - as far as how he speaks.

Forget that. Remember, Hugh Jackman, Nicole Kidman. Beefcake and cheescake, respectively.

The reason you'll rent this movie, and enjoy it, is this, the best scene in the movie. Maybe the best scene in cinematic history:

Mmm... Creases. Also, note the VERY natural "dumping a bucket of water over my body" pose. (I've asked Andrew to re-enact this scene for me. I'll keep you posted on his answer.)

In any case, if you're looking for a great movie, rent something else. If you're looking for your fill of Jackman flesh, rent Australia.

While I have an undying love of Baz Luhrmann for bringing back the musical, (Baz, if you're reading this, I think I'd be a GREAT leading lady), this was a film that needed an editor. Or some velociraptors. (The raptors fight the Japanese invaders in my version, and they're not REALLY in Australia, the island they send the mixed race kids is really Isla Nublar. Totally plausible.)

It also could have used some Watchmen-style nudity, if you get my meaning. Also, does Patrick Wilson have a requisite nudity clause in his rider? Not that I'm complaining, I'm just curious.

So in short, the film was short on plot but high on eyecandy. In the eternal words of Gershwin: Who could ask for anything more?

Oh cabana boy...

That's right. My toes are the most cheerful shade of pink, aptly named "Oh Cabana Boy".

Adrian Zmed is not dead

Tika and I have had a series of discussions, which usually included a brief debate as to whether Adrian Zmed (Johnny Nogerelli in Grease 2) is dead or alive. This debate is quickly ended by a "We should look that up", at which point, we both forget to do so.

Well, I did. Not dead! And still working, which is awesome for him. Speaking of Grease 2, did anyone else notice that Empire Records is an updated version of Bye Bye Birdie? (The tie there is Maxwell Caulfield.)

Other than rescuing Mom and making parallels between movie plotlines, things have been relatively uneventful around here, though, I had an interesting interaction last night.

I was watching my new FAVORITE show (Dark Angel, which is SO bad, it's AWESOME!), and a guy walks up to the door. The dogs bark, which is pretty standard, and I open the door.

It's a sales guy, for a remodeling company offering me a FREE ESTIMATE - that will be good for a year and a half. Provided we do it RIGHT AWAY. As in, let me in your house, and we'll honor the estimate.

Not. A. Chance. Luckily, Niki was totally on board with this plan, and was barking a FEROCIOUS bark at the guy. (When it's a neighborhood kid, I shush him, and he just whines.) At this point, I will tell you that Niki is behind the baby gate, and the sales guy is perfectly safe, provided he stays on the stoop. (Niki doesn't like strange men, unless they are expressly allowed in. Good dog!)

So, while this guy is trying to sell me on remodeling my house, he is visibly agitated at the Vicious Man-Killing Dog (Niki) barking at him. (Not to make light of what Elphie does, but she was quiet, and had her Cujo face on.) In the SWEETEST baby-talking voice I can muster, I say, "Niki! Hush!" (This is not the "hush" command, by the way. I may as well have asked him to decant the bottle of red wine in the kitchen for how much sense it made to him.)

Now, with dogs, tone is the key. Niki continues to bark, because I have just told him, with my tone, that he's being a Very Good Dog. After five minutes of Niki menacing him, I say, "Let me think about it, and I'll give the number on the card a call." I thought this was polite, based on the fact that I said that I wasn't interested half a dozen different ways already.

I close the door, lock it behind me, and praise the daylights out of the dog. It's days like this that make me especially grateful that we adopted the dogs.

Another year

Today marks our fourth wedding anniversary. Andrew continues to be too tall. Still, it says something that I'm willing to knit socks on size 0/1 needles for a man with size 12 feet.

Evidence:

Happy anniversary, Monkey.

Mondays are for nerds

If you've been a long-time reader, or you've read the archives, you know that I find nerds irresistible. I read nerd romance novels, I observe nerds in their natural habitats, and I watch nerd TV.

Yes, nerd TV. It started with Beauty and the Geek (which I watched mostly for the eye candy, since I hated the premise). Then, I discovered Chuck and The Big Bang Theory. Of course, no "hot nerd" discussion is complete without the mention of Dr. Spencer Reid (from Criminal Minds), and the plethora of nerd eye candy from Heroes (keeping one specific, I-always-knew-he-was-just-misunderstood watchmaker in mind).

It's basically all nerd eye candy and nerd humor. Chuck is full of more common nerd pop culture references, where you need to be a hard-core geek to really enjoy the humor in Big Bang Theory. Like, speaking Klingon hard-core. (Qapla!)

So, Mondays are for nerds. The lineup is all there. Chuck, Big Bang Theory, and Heroes. I'm a sucker for a brilliant men in glasses. (Or Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. Apparently, brilliant and arrogant work, too. Does this sound oddly familiar to anyone?) Add socially awkward and that's a trifecta I can't resist.

Now, to get caught up on my nerditude...

Heroes meets The Fly

I'm a huge Heroes fan. I think it's a great show, and I love that the first two seasons are available on Instant Watch on Netflix. I also love that if your Tivo is rebellious (like ours) and neglects to record the new episodes, they're available online at Fancast and Netflix - pretty immediately.

I could wax poetic about all of the incredible storylines that tie together, the need for in-depth exposition, and all that beautiful character development - see, there I go!

I could also gloat that Sylar/Gabriel was just a victim of circumstances, and I KNEW he wasn't a bad guy, deep down. As I insisted, all he needed was someone to love him. (He's no Sheldon Cooper, but he's nerdly enough.) I do like that they blur the lines of who is good and who is bad.

But when Suresh injected himself with the virus (or whatever it is), and his skin reacted JUST LIKE Jeff Goldblum's in The Fly, I called it. I also think they may have stolen some dialog from Jekyll & Hyde (the musical, not the book).

On the knitting front, I've finished 1 1/2 footprints from the Cat Bordhi class. But, I haven't taken those pictures yet, so I'll distract you with some spinning. I present, Hotel California:

As always, the Crown Mountain Superwash is a pleasure to spin. I've had some repetitive stress pain, so I've reduced my knitting load- but I'm trying to finish some long-term UFOs.

Not only because it's been a while since I've finished anything, but I'm trying to actualize the potential of all that proto-yarn and proto-clothing. Keeping an eye on the UFOs keeps me honest about my stash, and keeps me on the Social Pressure Experiment track.

Romeo and Juliet - a review

Event: Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare Santa Cruz
Cost: Buy tickets here- costs range from $12- $44. Our tickets were "comp'ed".
Photos:

Charles Pasternak (Romeo) and Caitlin FitzGerald (Juliet) in SSC's 2008 production of Romeo and Juliet.
Photo: R.R. Jones

(Hunky, n'est pas?)

The Review:

Like I said on the Podcast, Romeo and Juliet is not one of my favorite plays, and had my tickets not been comp’ed, I likely would not have attended. This would have been an epic mistake.

For the venue alone, it was worth it, but it was so much better than just a pleasant venue. Shakespeare Santa Cruz has an indoor theater (where we saw Bach at Leipzig) and an outdoor theater, where we saw Romeo and Juliet.

The outdoor theater is charming- still intimate while having enough space to be comfortable. The smells and sounds of the woods surround you, adding to the experience.

[WARNING: First time attendees- bring blankets and seat cushions. Santa Cruz gets very cold at night.]

Let’s talk about the play. We all know the plot, right?

Most of the cast is dressed in contemporary clothing, but some are in semi-Elizabethan garb. Somehow, the old and the new blend together. The older characters tend to be the ones in the Elizabethan clothing, which is an interesting juxtaposition.

My personal biases against the play are many; however, it was executed so well that ten minutes into the show, all thoughts of “overdone” and “cheesy” were fleeting.

When Romeo appears, offstage, you expect the traditionally “emo” Romeo. Sure, the show starts that way, but the secondary characters are so funny, that he seems like the appropriately lovelorn teen. In preparing for the Capulet’s ball, there is a lovely parallel between Romeo’s friends primping and preparing him and Juliet’s mother and nurse grooming her for the party.

Juliet’s appearance is reminiscent of a young Anne Dudek, and while the actress appears physically mature, her delivery of the role reminds the audience that while one may appear to be mature, they aren't, necessarily. I have never been so convinced that Juliet really is fourteen years old. She captures the haste and despair that seems to always accompany young love.

The “Pilgrims/prayers” scene (at the Capulet ball, pictured above) made my heart stand still. Seated in the audience, you can feel the electricity between Romeo and Juliet.

It made me feel fourteen years old again. Somehow, after rehearsals and multiple performances, the actors have managed to keep the scene feeling young, frantic, and authentic. (It doesn’t hurt that Romeo is a total hunk. I’m just saying.)

To be honest, until I watched this production, I hadn't realized how funny the first act of the show is. Every other interpretation has been so mired with the eventual outcome of the couple that it has dragged down the whole show. The actors managed to keep the production funny and light in the beginning, and appropriately poignant in the second act.

Other things worth noting are that throughout the show, there is some interaction with the audience, but it’s minimal and well-executed. Due to the way the outdoor theater is set up, entrances and exits are made through the audience, bringing you into the action. It’s fantastic.

If you get a chance to attend any Shakespeare Santa Cruz productions, DO. They do an excellent job and have unusually attractive casts. If not for the culture, it seems to be worth attending solely for the eye -candy.

Tika's Hot Brother

On Sunday, we were invited to join Tika, ManCandy, HeteroLifeMate Jordan, and Tika's Hot Brother for brunch and the new Indiana Jones movie (skip it). We arrived on time, and since Ms. Tika was still in bed, we made the all-neccessary coffee run.

Upon our return, I noticed that Tika and I have read loads of the same books. This is really unusual for me. I pointed this out, and she walked me to her "fiction" bookshelf- in the TV room. We were chitchatting about books (I think), when this rockin-hot-stud walks into the room, wearing nothing but a towel. Slightly damp. With spiky hair.

(Spiky hair is a weakness of mine, starting back in the first grade, when I had my first crush on Doug A. As a child I referred to it "sticky-up hair". In high school, Doug A. and I were supposed to go to a winter formal together, but he ended up canceling due to a hockey game which he was playing in. He's now a cop in Oregon with adorable sticky-up hair.)

"Do you want us to get out, so you can get dressed, THB?" Tika asked, getting up to go, "This is my brother, THB."

I managed a "nice to meet you", and wandered out of the room, jealous that random hot men don't randomly appear in my TV room wearing nothing but a towel. It turns out, that other than being really hot, THB is charming.

To thicken the plot, AllyTheSingleFriend, was supposed to join us, to soak up the THBness. Some parental interference kept AllyTSF from joining us, so I texted her:

"Tika's brother is smoking hot."

I know I'm not a nice person. But I'm honest.

Beauty and the Beast- a Review

I attended Beauty and the Beast at AMTSJ on Saturday, accompanied by Mom and Tika. I grew up a Disney-ish kid, and I love musicals, but this musical holds a slightly more special spot in my heart. The last time it toured through San Jose, Andrew and I went to see it. It was our first real date.

When they announced that it was going to be part of this season, I was pretty happy. The cast was phenomenal, but it seems that there have been some changes made in the last 6-7 years.

I didn’t think it was possible, but they Disney-fied it even more. Gaston is even more of a bully (who doesn’t go more than 3 minutes between punching the formly-sycophantic-now-stuttering Lefou), and they have changed the Beast from a gothic hero to an awkward buffoon. Less angst, more social ineptitude. My heart was very nearly broken by this change.

Despite the ill-advised changes, the actors were terrific- Brad Little plays the Beast, Edward Staudenmayer plays Gaston, and Nikki Renee Daniels interprets Belle with an incredibly powerful voice. I enjoyed the show so much that I picked up a copy of the Brad Little CD. I do love a good baritone. We also thought that Gaston was a smokin’ hot fox.

It’s hard to separate what I want theater to be- thought provoking and moving- with what it is- occasionally aimed a little lower, going for the cheap laughs. I understand that it has become a kids’ show- but it wasn’t before. (Just take a listen to the lyrics. You’ll agree.)

The original story has depth about appearances being deceiving and looking past the superficial. With this one, it felt more like the moral was, “Once you spend enough time with someone, you’ll love them.” A little more Stockholm-y, and a little less a-meeting-of-like-minds, if you will.

This is just be a criticism of the Disney-fication of the world, not the show. Take your kids, everyone will enjoy it. Ignore the curmudgeonly, pink-haired woman in the fierce shoes. She likes angst.

Chivalry is not dead

It’s not, and I have proof that has given me a modicum of hope that humanity may not be entirely doomed. Let me preface all of this by saying, I love the movie “Love, Actually”, but I have historically found people in airports to be unpleasant and rude.

They’re not happy to have their loved ones home, but rather, inconvenienced by what air travel has turned into. People don’t like all of the security, and it makes everything very ugly.

When I got to the airport to come home, baggage claim was my first stop. What I have noticed about Baggage Claim is that people cluster around the carousel long before any bags have started coming out, and stand there, regardless.

Since my luggage is a little… colorful, I stood back from the crowd, and waited. My smaller bag popped up first, and I walked up, excused myself as I parted a couple of people and grabbed my bag. I rolled back to the sidelines and waited for my other bag to make its appearance.

When it did, the gentleman to my right said (without looking at me), that he would grab it for me.

“Thanks,” I said, “My bags are a little … colorful.”

He laughed, looked at me and said, “They match your backpack.” Looks up at my face, “And your hair.”

I smiled and said, “Sometimes things work out just that well.”

I have to admit, I was shocked. Sometimes people do nice things for other people. When was the last time you were courteous to a stranger? When was the last time a stranger was courteous to you?

I try to be courteous and polite when I can. I smile, I’m polite, I hold doors. Maybe the trend is catching on.