Hey, you’re supposed to be the fastest thing in the valley, but that can’t be your car…that must be your mamma’s car! I’m sorta embarassed to be this close to you.

Remember when this movie was in the public domain and every TV station would air it 800 times between Thanksgiving and Christmas? My sister and I used to play a game to see how many times we could watch it in one year. I think our record was 13.

I think a lot of people who haven’t seen this movie think it is sappy, due to the oft-repeated “Every time a bell rings…” line, but it is actually quite dark. George Bailey is a troubled man with trampled dreams and suicidal ideas. The chemist wants to poison children. That sort of thing. One of my favorite lines is when he says, “Why’d we have to have all these kids anyway?” I’m sure parents think that kind of thing all the time, but you don’t hear the sentiment expresses much in Christmas films.

I think one of the most powerful scenes in any movie I’ve ever seen is when George and Mary are talking to Sam Wainwright on the phone about getting in on a new business and George grabs her by the shoulders and says, “Now you listen to me. I don’t want any plastics and I don’t want any ground floors. And I don’t want to get married ever to anyone! You understand that? I want to do what I want to do!” And then they kiss. It’s incredibly passionate.

Braised bones, toes and skin
Worked around the mouth and tounge
No grace in these feet

This is a re-consume, for maybe the fifth time. David Long lived in Tacoma when I was in college and was friends with one of my English professors. I was in a book club and we read this book and he came to the meeting. Having the author of the book you are discussing at book club is very sort of stressful and altogether Oprah. He very much does it on purpose, if you know what I mean. His writing is very crafted, almost poetic. For awhile every story I wrote was essentially copying him until I moved to poetry altogether, which in my own little way was how I could copy him best. He was the first author I ever really “knew” and I remember attending readings at the Barnes and Nobel or the library and waving shyly. And now where is he? Who knows. I don’t think I love this book as much anymore but it is still a great read.

I found this book emotionally manipulative and overly sentimental. While the setting is fresh, the plot itself is cliche and tired, and sometimes the dialog is outright laughable for its soap opera qualities. (“My whole life is a lie, goddamn it!” Cue violins.) The author relies too heavily on sentence fragments and the word “goddamn” for effect, and it gets old fast. All in all, typical bestseller schlock. It reads like the guy had his movie option in mind, and I’m sure this will soon show up on the big screen starring Adrian Brody with a spray-on tan or something. Yawn. It was nice reading a book about Afghanistan though. I just wish it were a better book.

Dapple apple tea
appley, happily tea
happy tummy tea.

We all know that person who always has to prove you wrong, like if you say “orange juice is good for you,” they will respond with, “Well, ACTUALLY…” and tell you how maple syrup has the same nutritional value as orange juice and make you feel sort of stupid for thinking otherwise. These people are fun to be around at first because they can spout out little interesting factoids as party tricks, but soon you feel like they just want to prove you wrong no matter what, so you start pressing “ignore” on your phone when you see they’ve called and when you see them at the grocery store you turn down an aisle to hide lest they criticize what’s in your basket. This book is kind of like that person. I was entertained at first but as I read on the fluffiness of the book started to annoy me and I could hear the authors saying, “Nuh-UH” in a taunting voice after list after list of rhetorical questions. The authors brag in the beginning that there is no unifying theme to the book and they are all proud of that, but I think a theme might have provided some substance that the book sort of needs. It’s just so fluffly and none of their conclusions were all that satisfying to me. But you know, it’s alright I guess. I didn’t hate it.

“You broke my sitar, motherfucker!”

I love candy. Seriously. So does Steve Almond. So he wrote a book about candy. And I read it. I enjoyed most of this book, except for the weird tangents about how depressed he was and how only candy loved him. I would have been fine with an autobiography about a guy who really likes candy, but this book read more like a book about the history of some candy companies with some strange diversions about life thrown in at the last minute because maybe no one would want to read a book just about candy. I also found it incredibly distressing to read page after page about the magical Valomilk, only to find that they explode at high altitude so they don’t ship them over the Rockies or transport them by plane, which means I’m going to have to go to Kansas or something to get my hands on a damn Valomilk. Boo!

Alka-seltzer is the best hangover remedy ever. There’s a little bit of fizz to soothe your rumbling tum, and a little bit of asprin to soothe your throbbing temples. Plus you have to drink it with a whole glass of water, which helps re-hydrate after a long night of drinking. Supposedly there is a “morning after” alka-seltzer with caffiene as well, but I never see it in the stores. The regular kind with a cup of coffee works fine for me.