On Changing Jobs

A job is an great thing. It's a passport to financial independence. It's a way to identify yourself, should you so choose. It's a tribe to belong to. (The Illustrious Fraternal Brotherhood of "Whatever-It-Is-You-Do's.") But most importantly, it's a way to fulfill one's societal duty to produce. Where am I going with this? I just changed jobs. Not technically. My title didn't change nor did my compensation. But my duties and location did. I used to work directly with physical objects. Things that were bought and sold, received and sent, stored and removed. Big things. Expensive things. Things that needed care and expertise and forethought, but also occasionally brute strength, to manipulate.    

Now I sit at a desk.

And I have to say, it's far less rewarding. There is no bodily reminder at the end of the day that I DID SOMETHING. No lingering soreness, no small scrapes reminding me that things in one place at the beginning of my day are now in another place.
No wonder people join gyms.

Remembering Old Books

Recently I pulled an old book of my shelf. The book was so old the gold foil lettering had worn off and I couldn’t tell what it was without opening it up. It was a tiny hard cover, only 4”x5” with scrolling gold leaf on the spine and the author’s signature in relief on the cover. A tattered red ribbon marker fell limply from between the first few pages which hung to the rest of the book by only the thinnest of fibers. There is no publication date but Google tells me Collin’s Clear-Type Press most likely issued this book sometime between 1915 and 1927. Then, it must have been a deep vibrant red. Now it is worn, faded and water stained. As I held it in my hand I saw it was a copy of “The Three Musketeers” by Alexandre Dumas. It’s a story I’ve read before, but not one I’m particularly attached to and considering the poor condition of this copy I wondered why I would bother to buy it. But as I thumbed through it the reason jumped out at me off the page. It wasn’t anything Monsieur Dumas or his translator had written, or even the beautiful illustrations by F.C. Tilney scattered throughout. On the inside of the title page is three short of lines of script written in pencil. Most likely these lines are a quotation from a play or famous poet. I’ve never tried to find out. I prefer to think that they were written by the person who purchased the book, and meant as a comfort to someone they loved. (I’m a romantic, sue me.) Here are the lines as they appear in the book:

When twilight draws the

Curtains and pins them with

A star, I will remember you

Dear.

J.

I keep this book because there is a story behind it. And I don’t mean Porthos, Athos, Aramis and D’Artagnan and “One for all, and all for one.” I mean the story of J. and whomever he or she is remembering. I’ll never know anything about those two people but nonetheless, every time I pull the book off my shelf, I’ll remember them both.

Regularly Scheduling

When I was in college I was the owner of the largest TV in my entire apartment complex. (That's not to say that I had a large TV. But when you live in campus housing, most of your neighbors tend to be on a budget, thus keeping the average television size pretty low.) Several nights a week, various friends, acquaintance and the occasional random passerby, would drop in to make use of the big screen, abundant seating (we were one of the few apartments to have two couches) and digital cable. (I sprang for the extra $10 a month service.) TV became a regular part of my routine. I even started planning my study sessions around new episodes of Battlestar Galactica and Grey's Anatomy. (A favorite of the girls downstairs.) When I moved home, I brought my TV habits with me. It's much more difficult to watch with a group in suburbia were everything seems to be a 20 minute drive away, but I managed to find one group to watch Heroes with and another for The Office. Plus there was always my sister who shares my taste in TV.

But what to do about this writer's strike? I need my TV! And I needed on it's regularly schedule time. The answer? The glorious invention known as Digital Video Disc. Between myself, my sister and a couple of friends, I have access to what must be dozens of full seasons TV. But I couldn't just start watching shows at random. I needed that security of prime time lineup. So I made my own. One episode of each show, on the same night each week. If you see any thing you like, feel free to drop by.

Sunday

• Malcolm in the Middle
  
• The Simpsons
  
• The X-Files
  
• Playmakers~
  
• Masterpiece Classics*
  

Monday

• Firefly
  
• Space: Above and Beyond
  
• Battlestar Galactica
  
• Terminator: The Sara Connor Chronicles*
  

Tuesday

• Scrubs
  
• The Office
  
• Keen Eddie
  
• Chuck
  

Wednesday

• Dark Angel
  
• Alias
  
• Veronica Mars
  

Thursday

• 30 Rock
  
• What I Like About You
  
• Gilmore Girls
  
• Heroes
  

Friday

• Friday Night Lights+
  
• Dead Like Me
  
• Arrested Development
  
• How I Met Your Mother
  

Saturday

• Miniseries or Movie
  

*new episodes
+new and dvd episodes
~subject to change without notice

The Bourne Catchy-Title

I read somewhere close to 300 film reviews in any given year. Sometimes I’ll read a review because I’m interested in the film. Other times, I respect the particular critic’s viewpoint or enjoy his or her writing. In all the reviews I’ve read, a subject which comes up very rarely and then only in passing, is the actual movie going experience itself.

Oh don’t get me wrong, critics love to talk about the theater as cathedral to the religion of film. They talk about the extra emotional weight a capacity crowd adds to the images on screen. And they talk about viewer reaction to particularly funny/tense/scary/emotional moments in the movie. But they never talk about waiting in line. Then paying $10 for a ticket. Then waiting in line. Then paying $15 dollars for soda and popcorn. Then waiting in line. Then filing cattle-car style into the theater only to find that all the best seats have been taken and you have to sit between Comic Book Store Guy from The Simpsons and a woman trying to nurse her crying baby. (Oh and the chair is sticky from the 5 year old who managed to spill his entire soda onto the seat in the previous showing.)

They don’t talk about any of that, because they don’t have to do any of that. No, film critics get to go to press screenings. I know because I’ve seen them. I’m on the list. No, not “THE LIST”, or even “The List.” I’m on “the list.” Every once in a great while, when the stars align (in this case the stars being a press screening for a film produced by Universal Studios, that’s in Seattle, and isn’t already full) I get an email with information on how to get two passes into the screening.

This is a very rare occurrence. In fact, it has only happened three times in six years. The first time was for a movie called The Bourne Identity. Having read and loved the Robert Ludlum novel on which the film was based, I was very excited to see it. I walked into the theater, flashed by pass at the skinny guy in the box office and was pointed toward a theater. No lines, no cash, no hassles, just walk right in and pick any seat I want. (Oh and instead of sticky dried up soda and candy wrappers on the seat, there’s a gift bag waiting for me.) Then comes the hand delivered (free) popcorn and soda. Then came the movie. And it was awesome! How can critics ever dislike a movie when it’s this much fun to go!

Last night I went to the late showing of the newest Matt Damon action-spy-thriller, The Bourne Ultimatum. The follow up to 2002’s The Bourne Identity and 2004’ The Bourne Supremacy, Ultimatum stars Damon as an amnesiac government assassin hell-bent on exacting revenge (justice?) for his lover’s murder by his former employers. (As if you didn’t know that already.) The first two films were some of the best action movies of the past decade. So good in fact that many, myself included, believe they served as the model for the re-imagining of that most ubiquitous of action heroes James Bond. This third Bourne is better. (And not just because a prediction of mine about Julia Styles’ character Nicky was proved correct.)

In the first two films Jason Bourne must fight three of his fellow assassins who have been sent to kill him. All are members of a group called Treadstone. In Ultimatum, the agents sent after Bourne belong to Treadstone’s successor Blackbriar. Presumably they are products of training methods perfected beyond what was used on Bourne who is, we find, the very first agent. In many ways they are better assassins than Bourne because of it. At one point I turned to my friend in the theater and said of one of the Blackbriar assassins, “Did that guy just outsmart Jason Bourne?!” In fact he had. Bourne then proceeds to kick the crap out of him. The enemy Bourne faces in this film is all powerful. They can tap into any security camera, listen in on any cell phone call, assassinate anyone, anywhere. But it doesn’t really matter. When they come up against Jason Bourne, they’re powerless. Is it because they represent the filmmaker’s ideas of an intelligence community with too much freedom and not enough oversight? Or because Bourne’s cause is just? Or simply because it makes for a really cracking action movie?

I prefere the third explanation. Yes, if you are so inclined you can infuse this film with some politically relevant theme. But for me that makes the film a waste of money. I paid to see a movie and have a good time, not sit through a political science lecture. And as for Bourne’s cause being just, it’s Bourne who commits the most heinous, despicable act in the whole movie. We identify with Jason Bourne because he has changed. He is no longer an assassin, but the fact remains that he killed quite a few people in cold blood and with no explanation necessary. Jason Bourne’s quest has very little to do with him being righteous. Instead, he understands that it is not enough to simply no longer be Jason Bourne. He must ensure that they’re will never be another Bourne… born. (Sorry.) And in that, the character finds at least a small bit of redemption and allows us as an audience to root for him.

But mostly there’s a lot of punching, crashing and shooting. And it’s awesome! Even if I did have to wait in line this time.

Today's Tomorrow

I'm supposed to publish something today. I wanted it to be a review of The Bourne Ultimatum. Problem is the movie won't be released until Friday. So I'll see you on Saturday.