Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

Stuff

The List

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CompBKNames72So talking about “the list” got me thinking about the lists I’ve used in the past to name my children. Today being March 4th got me thinking about marching forth and doing all the things I’ve been planning to do for a long time but haven’t done for no real reason except I don’t much feel like doing them.

As an aside, my house is clean right now. Freakishly clean. It has been for over 24 hours and the children have even been allowed to roam freely about the house at times. You could eat off my kitchen floor – but please don’t….

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FAT SPAM and Dancing

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Have you been getting the spam telling you that all of your co-workers are talking behind your back about what a fat slob you are? I have. The email goes into detail about all the office gossip and how the sender doesn’t want to be the one to tell me how disgusting I am but just wants to save me from future trauma.

I cannot believe it. For one thing, …

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The Karate Kid — A Retrospective

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Trapped in a house full of munchkins with a sinus headache and feeling decidedly less than lerious, I am reminded that I have yet to do a movie review of The Karate Kid.

I’m worried that once the night-time cold medication kicks in, I’ll be unable to remember all the details of the film that was such an integral part of my formative years. I must get it all down now. It may be hard to believe, but the following synopsical-review is from memory, with no source material of any kind. I have not seen the movie since I was a junior high student in Southern Alberta. Calgarians like sanding the floor and martial arts.

The film has an amazing cast including Elizabeth Shue and Daniel Laruso, also known as Daniel Son. According to the film, wise old Japanese men think every young boy is their son. It takes place in New Jersey or California. Come to think of it, everyone is blond in the movie and my mom is not blond and she’s from Jersey so either it takes place in California or it was directed by The Beach Boys or my mom is lying about her place of birth.

No, I think Daniel Son grew up in New Jersey and he moved to California with his mom in their station wagon so he could listen to Cruel Cruel Summer (not the Ace of Base version. It hadn’t been invented yet.) on a ghetto-blaster while people played soccer on the beach and ground his face into the sand.

His mom has a bad perm. Good then, bad in retrospect. Their station wagon has wood paneling and needs to be pushed to start. He works as a waiter/butler guy until he gets fired for throwing spaghetti on rich people and he’s skinny but highly attractive to 13-year old girls. These factors combine to make him a total loser and therefore the ideal underdog romantic leading man.

Come to think of it, I’ve always liked em skinny…and I’ve always liked em named Daniel.

So he gets beat up a lot. He walks to school. He gets beat up. He eats lunch. He gets beat up. He wears the coolest Halloween costume in history (a bubble-blowing shower stall) and consequently gets massacred. Everyone at his school goes around at night dressed up like skeletons and they’re all karate black belts at a local dojo where the sensei’s life’s work is to train evil high school skeleton bullies to rule the world.

They do.

Daniel-son gets saved by his apartment janitor. Oh. That also makes him a loser. He lives in an apartment and has come in contact with a janitor. I think you’re still okay if you happen to periodically rub shoulders with a butler but janitors are right out.

Luckily the janitor is a karate master who has been chillin’ in the basement, carving miniature shrubberies, eating flies with chopsticks and waiting for his next pupil to surface. He owns a beautiful home and a fleet of vintage cars but has no one to wax the cars, sand the floor or paint the fence. He sees Daniel as an ideal slave and sufficiently unwilling apprentice. It’s no fun to train a student who comes to you willingly. Half the joy of mentoring someone is humbling them into submission, while mumbling incoherent sound bites of ancient wisdom and watching them do all of your housework.

In some ways, I see The Karate Kid as a flawless parenting guide.

Another truth I found in this movie that’s served me well is that the best person to date is your boyfriend’s arch-nemesis. It ups the drama and you get to scream more. By the time the next movie comes around, you’ll probably be dating HIS nemesis so that he’s free to move to Japan and date Mr. Miyagi’s zucchini-farming relatives.

As he does his sanding, waxing and painting, Daniel-Son becomes a karate master and scores a sweet ride with which to take Elizabeth Shue on a date to a montage of amusement park rides.

My throat hurts.

He ends up facing down his enemies in the ring at some big tournament where the evil dojo master encourages his legion of Aryan-Nationesque foot soldiers to maim Daniel slowly so that he ends up like the black knight from Monte Python by the end, spurting blood and standing on one leg. The baddest high school dojo kid is encouraged to “SWEEP THE LEG” and others heckle to “put him in a body bag.”

Mr. Miyagi performs some black magic in the locker room and Daniel wins the fight, the respect and the girl, who proceeds to run him over with an overpowering hug. The skeletons cry, Mr. Miyagi almost smiles and someone in a suit gives Daniel Son the Stanley Cup.

A few more things I remember are that no one is impressed with Daniel Laruso’s fabulous BMX stylings. I’m not sure why. I think they forgot they were in the 80s. I also think there is something about Mr. Miyagi being a widowered WWII vet and I’m fairly sure someone burns his house to the ground. When this happens, Daniel Son may or may not yell “NOOOOOOOO!” and cry a lot.

It’s a good one. Rent it this weekend. No, I was not paid by The Karate Kid or any of its subsidiaries to write this post.

Hieroglyphics

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I saw an IMAX movie about Egypt on a date with Dan this weekend. I really think that if given the budget and footage they had, I could have made a much better film. I mean, look what I did with Allysha‘s husband, $20, 4 pirate radio DJs, a couple of Mexican wrestling masks and a pair of pantyhose. I didn’t even have Omar Sharif when I made that film and let’s just say it was pure cinematic magic.

Seriously, I should be making films when I’m not making kids.

We did not intend to see the IMAX movie, the juggling guy, or the mole rats. Our plans were thwarted and it makes no sense to me.

Translate these rare scribblings if you dare.
Is it common to sell out a museum exhibit? Will people’s retinas begin to burn holes in the preciously preserved documents if more than 150 of them pass through the dark room each day?

Hieroglyphic translation — I didn’t see the Dead Sea Scrolls. Sold out. Paid babysitter. Bites.

One good thing about this weekend: I told Magoo to go find Dad and tell him “Raaarrrrrr!” Magoo ran to Dan…yay, he’s doing what I asked…and then ran right past him…ah well…grabbed a plastic polar bear from the toy room…ran back to Dan…held out the bear…and said…”Raaarrrr!”

In Magoo’s world, bears, big cats, teddy bears, small fluffy sheep and his mom after paying $60 for babysitting, parking and gas to be told that the Dead Sea Scroll Exhibit is sold out all say “Raaarrrr!”

I Saw the Signs

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I don’t care what they call it. I’m pretty sure there’s no honey in this bucket.sign3

Now this changing table from a restroom in the crypt of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London is appropriately labeled.
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Those things are always pretty nappy.

Be afraid. Be very afraid. I don’t see Beware of Dog signs very much anymore but these seem to be cropping up everywhere. You’d better watch out. They’re all around us. Some may even live on your very street…or in your HOUSE! Watch for signs.
sign

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Seriously? None at all? On this, not-recently-barfed-on cement slab in downtown Seattle? Okay. I’ll try to restrain myself. Maybe there’s a sweet spot down by the shipping yards.

I love the endorsements on political signs.
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Was he endorsed by some Washington nurses association or is his mom just a nurse and she really likes him? I’m endorsed by software programmers, escape artists, people named Allysha and the Democratic Party (I figure that if at least 20 people living on the internet link to my site, and the internet was invented by Al Gore, it just stands to reason…). Maybe I should run for office.

Those things are always pretty nappy.

Tip Tuesday — Scary Movies

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One of the things I learned working in the media department of a public library with a massive film collection was that people like scaring the living chigooly out of themselves on or around October 31st. What many people learned the hard way was that if you go to a video store or library the day before or the day of Halloween, you’ll have to be a little more creative when choosing a scary flick to watch.

More than once have I tried to convince a teenaged boy that Nosferatu would be the oogledy boogledy best scary movie to watch for his Halloween bash. No takers. No love for the original scary, the movie that started it all. I bite my thumb at them. Go to Blockbuster and see if Scary Movie 3 is in stock. Ha HA!

Then there’s the grown men looking for a scary movie on Halloween night. Umm… Nosferatu’s still here or you could try that one about the pride and the prejudice… The screaming, the running, the horror, the sudden fits of narcolepsy. Works every time.

What are some of your favorite scary movies? Here are a few that you may not have seen:

Nosferatu (1922) — silent, B&W, the original vampire movie. Everyone should see this at least once. It also makes a great background on a big screen during a spooky party.

M (1931) — Fabulous German film starring Peter Lorre as one of the all-time creepiest villans, B&W, German with English subtitles.

Le Boucher (The Butcher 1970) — Another great murder mystery, French with english subtitles, directed by Claude Chabrol. You will be freaked out by this well crafted thriller.

Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) — Kampy, silly 80’s horror flick.

The Brain from Planet Arous (1957) — Life is not complete without viewing this 50s horror film. A giant brain from Planet Arous, held up by heavy wires, “floats” around and possesses the body of a well-known scientist. The tagline reads “It Will Steal Your Body And Damn Your Soul.” You cannot lose with this one.

Wait Until Dark (1967) — My favorite scary movie of all time, this film must be watched in a completely dark house. Audrey Hepburn plays a blind woman being terrorized by a team of international drug dealers. There is no scarier movie. Ever. I’m willing to step up and fight you over this pronouncement or step up and dance you over it or EVEN freestyle rap battle to prove my point. I’m that confident.

Now share yours. Some ideas for younger kids would be helpful too. Mine are all relatively clean as horror movies go, but much too mature in content for young family viewing.

Boats Can Read but Cows Cannot

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Apparently the little boat that sailed into the night reads my blog.  On Wednesday I finally called for its return.

Last night at the mariner’s house one small square window was glowing with a dim light, the first sign of life I’ve seen there all summer.

This morning the ship was back afloat the billowing grass, missing only its mast, no doubt having been smashed in some outrageous journey…  or taken down for winter storage.

In one field near the house a herd of cows likes to graze.  Frequently they can be seen lounging around a sign that reads “Premium Angus Beef:  Call for details.” How the rancher gets them to aid in his advertising is beyond me. Needless to say, I fear they are hopelessly illiterate.

Long Range Clapper-Finder

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I am a loser. I lose things. Small things, large things. It doesn’t matter. I can frequently be found asking people if they’ve seen my keys, my phone, my van, my mind.

I can keep track of most anything on my Palm. So maybe I should write down the location of all my important items at any given time in my PDA. Then I’d just have to find that and I’d have the map to unlock my own personal universe of misplaced somethings.

On really bad days, days when my massive diaper bag masquerading as a purse eats all that is dear to me, I dream of a magic long range clapper-finder that will respond when I clap and tell me where the desired item is hiding. I guess I’d need a different clap for each item or maybe a whistle, ala Captain Von Trapp.

My cell phone has the most amazing uber-long-range clapper-whistler-finder built right in. Each night and often several times a day, I just call my own phone and follow the ringer. I even occasionally do this when I KNOW it’s somewhere in the deep recesses of my purse but I still can’t find it. It lights up when it rings, you know, and I can hear it echoing up from beneath the many crayons, tampons and electronic devices.

Well, we found out last night that its finder range extends at least 15 miles from my house. This is the longest distance we’ve achieved in our testing to date and the results are very promising.

It was 11:00pm. I called my phone. Here, girl. Here, girl. Come to mama. I will charge you, little cell phone. Come heeerrrreeee. Souuuuueeeeeee! Not a sound did she make. I walked out in the garage. Nothing. I went from room to room. Nada.

Suddenly someone answered, “Hello?”
Me: I must have the wrong number.
Woman: Maybe not. Do you know whose cell phone this is?
Me: Maybe mine. Is it smallish? Cute? Wearing tight leather pants with a see-through mid-section?
Woman: Yeah. You dropped it at Costco. It’s in the lost and found.
Me: Okay thanks.
Woman: It’s the Costco in —town.
Me: Thanks [Dude. How many Costco’s do you think I go to in a day?]

Although she practically called me a compulsive bulk shopper to my face…over the phone, I forgave her in my gratitude that Costco has someone babysitting lost and lonely cell phones in the middle of the night, waiting to help me out in my continued quest for scientific advancement.

And, truth be told, I was glad she told me which Costco. You see, Costcos like me – but only from a cautious distance. There are currently two Costcos holding their positions equidistant from my house and I very well could have forgotten which one I attended that afternoon. “Two Costcos stalking you?” you gasp. That’s nothing. I once had three Costco’s arrange themselves in a triangular pattern, each 25 minutes from my house in opposite directions. They’re really quite remarkable creatures.

reasons: Magoo running to the laundry room with his arms outstretched to catch the dust flying from the lint trap as I change loads

I Hate Goodbyes — A Tree Grows In Brooklyn — Final Chapters

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Francie and her family close the door on me, just like that? What gives? Where’s book two? A Tree Grows In Brooklyn — the Blog?

I want so much to know what will happen in Francie’s life. Will life with Ben become something wonderful? I believe that she will find a deeper love in Ben than she ever had with Lee, who was only really a dream, her first flailing attempt at love.

I agree with her mother that Francie will never forget him, but I think he will come to be a sweet memory, a foreshadow of things to come, rather than continue as an overpowering presence in her life.

Francie’s mother married her first love, met on a whim, attracted to his good looks and in love with being in love. Don’t you think she’ll be much happier with McShane? They have a quiet attraction and respect for each other, a slow simmer that will build with time. He is more of what her head wants and her heart will grow to follow.

Any other predictions of how their lives will end up? Will Francie finish college, marry Ben, forget about Brooklyn?

As far as the book club goes, I’m starting too think it’s too ambitious for my current life. There are so many projects I am in the middle of and I think I need to know when to say when. So, as far as this book club goes, WHEN. If you plan to read another great book and want to let me know about it, I may just read along. I’ve really enjoyed discussing this one with all of you. It now joins my increasingly too large list of top 10 favorites.

Links:
Lauren writes from a New Yorker’s perspective about the ways our world has changed and how it remains the same.
Allysha says “[…]Often times it’s heartbreaking as Francie has to negotiate the world she has created in her mind with the reality she lives in.[…]” In her usual thoughtful way, Allysha discusses this week’s section about growing up.  She discusses beauty and truth and one of my favorite sections of the book and finishes up perfectly with this post.

Schedule:

Pease let me know if you’ve blogged about the book and I’ll add a link here. And remember, you don’t have to stick to the schedule. If you have something great to say about the first page, let us know.

Settling — A Tree Grows in Brooklyn Chapters 38-45

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What is your price? How often do you settle for something far beneath what you are worthy of because it’s the best thing you’ve been offered so far? Do you even know that you’re giving up something greater?

Francie knows. When she agrees to stay on at her job and become the city reader, she knows that she’s giving up her education and her future dreams. She knows she could be doing something greater with her life but she also knows that her family needs the money now and that she has the means to take away their present problems by sacrificing her future happiness.

The decision sickens her to the core and tears at her young heart. She is doing what she thought she would love and she is finding out that though she has life better than her mother had it and though she is more successful this year than she was the year before, it is not enough.

The interesting thing is, she doesn’t even know the extent to which she is being cheated, underpaid and overworked. She just knows something’s wrong.

When I am selling out, giving up my chances for a grand life because the illusion of something better than my current situation sits tangibly within my grasp, I know something’s wrong. Do I always know how desperately wrong? Do I always care that it’s wrong or do I just go for the something better that’s at arm’s length instead of leaping into the darkness for the unimaginable greatness that is beyond my ability to hope for?

I fear that I often accept the small victories in life, too afraid or too ignorant to really become the worthy protagonist of my life’s story.

Links:
Lauren writes from a New Yorker’s perspective about the ways our world has changed and how it remains the same.
Allysha says “[…]Often times it’s heartbreaking as Francie has to negotiate the world she has created in her mind with the reality she lives in.[…]” In her usual thoughtful way, Allysha discusses this week’s section about growing up. She discusses beauty and truth and one of my favorite sections of the book.

Schedule:

Pease let me know if you’ve blogged about the book and I’ll add a link here. And remember, you don’t have to stick to the schedule. If you have something great to say about the first page, let us know.