The concrete details of my parents’ romance are, in a word, problematic.  Or perhaps troubling is a better descriptor.  These words make their love sound so much more harsh than it is though. Really, the point I am trying to make is that they did everything wrong yet ended up with something that remains my definition of right.  Their love is what I idolize and hope for myself, even though the way they went about finding it will always be a prime source of ribbing when it comes to my poor mother.

Really, all of the relationships in Dolores’ family seem ill-advised, yet somehow they all work.  She has six brothers and sisters, five of which got married.  None of those marriages ended in divorce even though all of the weddings transpired before the couple was 25 years old and, in most instances the time it took to meet, fall in love, get engaged, and get married was less than a year.  Yet, somehow, they all found happiness, or perhaps they just figured out the secret to making it work.

My parents met at a college dance where my mom was, quite literally, my dad’s Plan B.  He knew my mom’s sister, my Aunt Loretta, from school and made his way across the dance floor to ask her to dance. However, before he could reach her, someone else beat him to the punch.  Rather than turn around awkwardly, my dad, in an attempt to save face, asked my mom to dance instead.

It sounds so cute when you tell it, but when I think of myself in my mom’s shoes, I think about how my friends and I would react.  “Oh? Your first option didn’t pan out, so I should be flattered your attention can now turn to me? Thanks, but no thanks.”  I tend to refuse to get involved with guys my good friends have been involved with specifically because we are socially conditioned to believe that feeling of being second best will only end in heartache.

Yet, as I get older, I find myself increasingly willing to give someone another shot or try not to take it too personally if it takes them a little while to come around to me as a love interest because they may be preoccupied with someone else.  In my head, I think of a young Glenn Welman who didn’t mean anything shady by settling for Dolores when he set out for Loretta, he was just a young kid who didn’t want to look stupid in front of a couple of pretty girls.

My mom certainly didn’t take it to heart, for, as she tells it, by the end of that night, she had told my dad she loved him.  To quote Sassy Gay Friend, “Slow down, Crazy. Slow down.”

In a certain light, it reeks of desperation, but in my head, it is a testament to the fact my parents were destined to be together.  While society may always have me worried and concerned I am saying too much or being too affectionate or overbearing, I could probably use a good dose of Dolores in how I speak my feelings.  I clam up to the point where no one really knows how I feel about anything, thinking this is the low maintenance approach to relationships. Just don’t talk about your feelings and enjoy your time together. Keep it simple, you know?

Dolores’ bluntness was pretty simple in its own way too though.  She was straight to the point. No time to mess around with a guy who wasn’t on board with a relationship, she had places to go and people to see after all. And she found a guy who was on board, even though he didn’t do a great job of showing it on their next date.

Date number two was a trip to the Memphis Zoo.  My mom was quite impressed that her beau showed up with a fancy camera, just one of many gadgets my dad adopted far earlier than the rest of America over the years.  However, she thought a lot less of that camera by the end of the day.  My dad took exactly one photo on the trip.  Was it of his darling new lady love? Nope. It was of a gorilla. 

Dolores tried not to read too hard into her social standing that the gorilla seemed more photogenic to my dad than she did, but it did hurt her feelings just a bit.  That small hiccup was really the only bump in the road for them though.  Within six months, they were engaged, though even that they managed to bungle.  My dad and mom didn’t get married because my dad asked her to, oh no.  They got engaged because she brought him home to Missouri to meet her family one weekend.  While they were there, the small town gossips saw Dolores at church with a strange young man and did the next logical step: report in the local paper the following Monday that the two were engaged.

Rather than have my mom deal with the shame of being inaccurately married off by the local Glennonville, MO paper, my dad basically just shrugged and said, “Okay, why not?”

Within nine months, they were walking down the aisle.  Even their wedding attire defines bad romantic decisions, as my dad honest to God opted for the ruffled powder blue tuxedo that took the world by storm in the early 70s.  My mom’s dress was nice, though it should be noted that not only did she sew her own wedding dress from scratch, she also sewed all the bridesmaid dresses and managed to find time to make her mother an outfit as well.  Considering the planning for this wedding took all of five seconds, one has to wonder when my mom found time to sleep between prepping for her nuptials and sewing an entire department store’s worth of clothing. 

That is my parents’ story of how they fell in love and got married in June of 1972, when my dad was just 23 years old and my mom only 21.  Over the 20 years they were married, there were some struggles and compromises, such as my mom’s insistence Dad stop smoking a pipe or the numerous moves around the country as IBM transferred my dad from city to city.  Yet, from those years, I really only hear happy stories.  I hear about the camping trips when they lived in Colorado.  I hear about their first stone house in Lexington and sewing curtains for their first home together. 

From my own recollection, I can remember the moments where my mom underwent surgery and my dad was there to help her through it.  Moreover, I watched as my dad suffered through cancer while my mom stood by his side to the very end.  Through it all, there was never bickering or problems, the only thing I can remember at all is two people in love, supporting one another.

When I ask my mom how they did it, she can’t really offer any explanation, though she will often tell me where I am going wrong in her mind.  “You’re always so concerned about being able to talk with the guy you date. Why do you like talking so much?”

I will admit that she and Dad were never chatty. In fact, the adoption agency almost didn’t let them have kids because they were worried they might be too introverted.  Just being around each other made them happy.  They didn’t need to talk all the time to prove they got along.  I, on the other hand, feel the need to talk all the time to prove just about anything.  I have yet to find that person who I have no trouble saying nothing around.

I haven’t found that person, and when I think about my parents’ love story, the love story I think of as the ideal, I do have to question if, at 30, I have really figured out how to be in love at all.  For, Dolores and Glenn seemed to be doing it all wrong, yet they found something so right.  They broke all the rules, they rushed too quickly into things, and, from what I can tell, the discussions about their feelings were few and far between.

Nonetheless, it was a love that burned so brightly that, even 22 years after my dad passed away, my mom still makes no effort to meet someone else.  She has now been without her husband longer than she was with him, but she still wears her wedding ring every day.  Sometimes she thinks about finding companionship, but as she tells it, if she knows she will never find anyone who comes close to my dad, what is the point of looking?

When my search for the right person tries my patience, I think of my mother, a woman who has easily put up with 22 years alone because of how good 20 years with the love of her life were, I try to bite my lip, take my blows and soldier on.  When I think about my parents’ love story, I often start to mull about the sadder side of their tale, not to mention mull over why I seem to not have this whole dating thing figured out yet.  If you are so young and find such happiness so easily and so early, does it hurt that much more when you lose it?  If you’ve never really had to be alone, is it that much harder?

Then I try to look on the bright side. Perhaps I am just getting my time alone out of the way early so I can really relish the time together like they did.  My years alone are being served now so I can appreciate the ones with my person that much more.  At the end of the day, I keep an open mind and hope that, perhaps in the most unexpected of circumstances, an awkward, well-meaning young man might stumble into my life.  And, while he may initially think my sister or a primate might be more interesting than I am, eventually he will let me be his everything on our own terms, even if they seem absolutely crazy to everyone else.

When people ask me about my time in Los Angeles, I am quick to inform them I will never live in that barren wasteland of inconvenience ever again.  I spent six years living in LA between college and life after college though, so while there is not money on Earth that would ever get me to live in LA again, I actually spend a fair amount of time there and there are a fair number of places I like to visit with regularity.

In fact, I am in Los Angeles right now and have spent much of my weekend showing my friend Josh the town, as he is a movie buff who has never been to Hollywood before.

The thing is, I am more an off the beaten path LA tour guide than most.  I will show people Hollywood Boulevard as I did today (which is where, btw, we just stumbled upon an incredible bookstore called Larry Edmunds).  I still get all giddy when I get to show someone the beautiful facade of the American Cinematheque Egyptian Theater.  I can drive Sunset Blvd, pop into the Beverly Center, hit up the beach and Third Street Promenade, but what I take the most pride in is showing folks the side of LA they may not really know about.

So, while Josh may not be getting your standard tour of the City of Angels, I’d like to think I am giving him some glimpse at the city that is arguably a little more worthwhile.  I am no Angelino expert.  Hell, I’m not even an Angelino.  But, if you ask me, these are the ten things I would suggest you do if you ever make it to the City of Angels:

1. Eat a French Dip at Philippe the Original

You can debate whether or not this old-fashioned lunch counter across the street from Union Station, but you can’t debate that it is probably the best French Dip sandwich you’re ever going to eat.  Bring cash, as this order-at-the-counter establishment doesn’t take cards, but don’t worry, it won’t break the bank.  The most expensive of the sandwiches, the lamb dip, is $8.25. Throw on a slice of cheese and it’ll cost you $.50 or so more.  I’d also advise to save room for pie, as they carry a wide array of slices and you can tell as soon as you walk in the place that this is the type of joint that knows how to make a good pie.  And they sure as hell make a damned fine sammich.  In the past two years, I’ve had a 100% success rate with friends getting Philippe and leaving completely satisfied. It is a slam dunk of a win of a meal, plus, if you want to walk it off afterwards, the charming Olvera Street is just two blocks away and worth taking a gander through. You may want to save room though, as the aroma of delicious tortillas and Mexican food might just win you over.

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2. Indulge in some cookies at Diddy Riese

While on the subject of cash-only cheap but amazing eats, let’s talk cookies.  I am of the belief that there is truly no more perfect dessert in the world than a chocolate chip cookie and the chocolate chip cookies from DIddy Riese in Westwood are perhaps the most perfect specimen of them all.  Plus? You can get three of them for $1.  You will have to wait in line for those cookies, but it is most certainly worth the wait.  My friends are big believers in the ice cream cookie sandwich option (which is a slightly pricier $1.75), but I tend to just go straight cookie for the most perfect sweet snack LA has to offer.

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3. Go see something, anything at the Hollywood Bowl. Bring a picnic.

Okay, okay, this isn’t exactly off the beaten path, but I don’t think the Bowl gets nearly enough love.  It is a truly stunning place to see a concert.  Even if you get the nosebleed benches at the back of this amphitheater, the acoustics are amazing and the views of the stage and the surrounding hills of Hollywood are spectacular.

What really threw me the first time I went to the Bowl though is that you can bring in whatever you want with you.  Unlike most concert venues that basically strip search you and confiscate your Juicy Fruit if you don’t buy it from the concession stand, the Hollywood Bowl encourages patrons to pack lunches, bring bottles of wine, and have a full blown picnic.  So, even if you may not feel like a night of symphony music is worth it, the experience of noshing on wine, cheese, and crackers, taking in the atmosphere, and spending it in good company will make even the most boring show well worth your while.

By the way musical theater fans, each August the Bowl stages a popular musical with an all-star cast.  In past years they’ve done Rent, Grease, and Chicago, and this summer they’ll be staging Hair.

//instagram.com/p/eQ-5TxRYN7/embed/4. Grab some breakfast from Mama Ella at Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles.

Over the past ten years, the concept of chicken and waffles has gotten a little more common.  When I arrived at USC in the fall of 2001, I hadn’t really ever thought of pairing fried chicken with a waffle, but nonetheless went on a dorm-sponsored outing to Roscoe’s.  A lovely waitress named Mama Ella refused to serve us if our elbows were on the table, insisted we mind our manners, and proceeded to serve us one of the more perfect food combinations in the world.

My order of choice is the Carol C special, a chicken breast and a waffle.  I also add a biscuit though, for as all Southerners know, breakfast is not breakfast if you don’t add a biscuit if it is an option.

You may think you can find chicken and waffles all over the place, but I implore you to understand that there are chicken and waffles and there is Roscoe’s, you may have tried one, but you have certainly never experienced the other.

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5. Buy some fresh produce at the LA Farmer’s Market

Tourists go to The Grove because it is basically a celebrity petting zoo.  A small, confined outdoor mall where there is almost always some celebrity in the vicinity, it is a good place to people watch, don’t get me wrong.  But the real gem of this spot at the intersection of 3rd and Fairfax is the LA Farmer’s Market.

This place has been an LA institution for 80 years and shows no signs of slowing down.  Dozens of booths selling everything from fresh fish to fresh fruit to children’s toys, this bustling marketplace is probably the most European-feeling spot in the LA area.  Time permitting, you should absolutely explore the entire place, but if you have to pick and choose, some of my favorite spots are Kip’s Toystore, Bryan’s Pit Barbeque, any of the fruit merchants, Tusquella’s Seafood, and the piece de resistance: The French Crepe Company where a snack is pretty much mandatory.

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6. Grab a late night cup of coffee at Canter’s Deli

Just down the street from the Farmer’s Market is one of several Jewish delis in the LA area. While some people will laud Jerry’s or Art’s or Factor’s as the best, for my money as the most convincingly Jewish non-Jew in poker, Canter’s wins.  

My friends and I used to hit up this all-night deli after attending, of all things, poetry slams down the street.  Perhaps it is the late night availability that won me over.  The counter of baked goods and cookies that always provide good take-home treats helps too.  But the food is pretty solid.  The chicken soup is the star, but all of the breakfast items are more than sufficient. A benedict and a latke? Don’t mind if I do!

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7. Crash Dr. Drew Casper’s Class at the University of Southern California

It shouldn’t surprise anyone that something USC-related made the list. Sure, a night at Traditions or a trip to Chanos is a lot of fun.  It goes without saying USC football is now Lane Kiffin-free and hopefully back to its fun and winning ways.  But the real star of my college days was Dr. Drew Casper, the foremost Alfred Hitchcock authority in the world and allegedly the highest paid professor on campus.  His lectures are more like performances and he might have the best taste in film of anyone I have ever met in my life.

It also helps that his classroom is actually one of the five nicest movie theaters n the country.  The Norris Cinema Complex features nothing but the best equipment, including a virtual one of a kind digital projector selected and donated by alumnus George Lucas.  The seats are a lush crushed red velour, just like an old movie house.  If you are a film fan, there genuinely might not be a better cinematic experience, just don’t get caught crashing the course.

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8. Chow down on Mexican food at El Cholo

While you’re in the vicinity of USC, take the 15 minute drive over to the Mexican food institution that is El Cholo on Western.  While you want to go during blue corn tortilla season, it is going to be a delicious experience year-round.   While you may have to wait a while to get a table, you can pass the time sipping on a margarita scoping the place for celebs (we would often see Jack Nicholson hanging out post-Laker games).

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9. Go see Marty and Elayne rock out at The Dresden

As a recovering hipster, I would be remiss not to include some sort of representation of the Los Feliz/Silver Lake hood.  I spent my 21st birthday there sipping on cocktails living out my “Swingers” fantasy of being that kind of Angelino.  The movie “Swingers” is really what put The Dresden on the map, highlighting the delightfully unique musical duo of Marty and Elayne.  This geriatric musical group does lounge music-style covers of pop music hits under the dim lights of this 50’s-esque lounge.  

You can go there for dinner, but this is really just a chill place to grab a drink or two, catch some memorable entertainment, and marvel at just how many hipsters this neighborhood has to offer.

10. Buy a slice of Village Pizzeria and wander the delightful Larchmont Boulevard

If I had to name my favorite place in Los Angeles, it would be the tiny stretch of three blocks or so that constitutes the Village of Larchmont.  My college roommate and I discovered this hidden gem that I would call the quaintest place in LA when we moved to Koreatown senior year (btw, we were way ahead of the curve on K-town being cool).  This area, which kind of feels like Stars Hollow from Gilmore Girls boasts a ton of tiny cafes and restaurants, a wine and cheese shop that serves incredibly tasty sandwiches, and a ton of boutiques selling everything from books to toys to clothes to jewelry.

It is also home to the best pizza in Los Angeles: Village Pizzeria.  This New York-style pizza joint allows you to dine-in or take out.  You can order by the pie or by the slice, but be warned that a single slice is basically the size of my head.  For around $5, you can get a massive slice of thin crust tasty pizza and one of their signature garlic coils, which i sjust enough fuel to power your walk to the other side of the drag to grab a Crumbs cupcake for dessert.

When I lived in LA, this was my sanctuary.  Long walks, leisurely shopping, and dropping by Landis Gifts and leaving a book on the take a book, leave a book shelf.  It is the most un-LA section of LA, but it is hands-down my favorite and kind of what Hollywood is all about–a place providing escape from the real world, with all the clean and shine of a movie set that feels too good to be real.

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(WARNING: If you haven’t seen “Frozen” and care about whether or not it is spoiled, don’t read this)

I may be 30 years old and childless, but I’ll admit it–I’ve seen and enjoyed “Frozen”.  Considering the movie’s grossed half a billion dollars, I can’t be the only one in this situation.

Granted though, the group that really made this Disney retelling of “The Snow Queen” the massive success that it is is little girls.  Much like my peers and I took to Ariel and Belle back in the early 90s, the tiny tots of today turned Elsa and Anna in the two new princesses to be on the Disney block.

That’s right, there are two “Frozen” princesses.  The older one, Elsa, is the titular snow queen.  She has magical powers that allow her to turn things to ice and manipulate the winter weather, but she doesn’t have complete control over them, so sometimes she accidentally freezes people or things, including her little sister.  She also gets to sing “Let It Go”, the breakout song from the movie that recently won an Oscar. Here, have a gander:

The younger princess is more of the traditional Disney mold.  Anna is young and sheltered, but is forced out into a whole new world in an effort to save her sister.  She has not one but two suitors and dreams of a world much bigger than her little bubble of a life inside her castle. Note the spunky pigtails, but the decidedly less glamorous dress:

When I was talking with my friend Jeff about his four-year-old daughter’s obsession with the movie, he mentioned how much she loved Elsa.  It didn’t surprise me, as his daughter always seemed to like super heroes and he goes out of his way to make sure little D doesn’t get too preoccupied with traditional Disney princess types.

He informed me that pretty much every little girl prefers Elsa to Anna though.  He told me a story of going to Target in search of Elsa toys only to find all those shelves empty, yet all the Anna toys were fully stocked.

Apparently all the little girls like Elsa.  Jeff acted like it was obvious she would be the favorite. “She has powers, she has the best song, of course they like Elsa.”

Clearly little girls’ priorities have changed since I was of Happy Meal-ordering age.  I suppose I should trumpet the advent of feminism and progressive film heroines who are not all about marrying some dude they just met and only aspiring to be a wife and a mother.

But here’s the thing…

Elsa’s life blows.

I mean, this girl can’t even touch anyone without the risk of killing them.  She is the literal and metaphorical frigid shrew who has to live a life as a spinster not because she wants to, but because she might seriously hurt someone she loves if she tries anything but this lonely life.  Look at her hands in this photo.  She has them tightly clasped, she spends the movie wearing gloves (though I do admit all those pretty gloves do give a point to Team Elsa).  For the entire movie, Elsa either spends her hours locked in her room not talking to people or flitting about her ice palace she built to live out her days all by herself.

At the end of the film, she and Anna reconcile and Elsa returns to life in the palace, but we never get any indication that she will find companionship or ever be able to touch another human being.  Granted, we also don’t know if she really wants companionship, but given how upset she seems when she rants away into “Let It Go”, you get the impression it bothers her at least a little.  They say that love is the key to harnessing Elsa’s powers, but we never see her have anything except sisterly love to use as an example.

Meanwhile, you have Anna, who gets to be spunky, funny, go on adventures and meet not one, but two boys who think she is awesome within 48 hours of entering the dating world.  If that’s not enough, she is voiced by Kristen Bell, who I think I have mentioned before is my biggest of girl crushes.  Anna gets to save the day, Anna gets to befriend the funny magical Josh Gad-voiced snowman, and Anna even gets to be the martyr, almost dying for her sister’s mistakes not once, but twice.

In other words, Anna gets everything, while Elsa is the Jan Brady.

The movie has a lot of fun using Anna to offer some funny commentary on the whims of past Disney princesses to great effect.  When she gets engaged to a dude she just met, numerous people react with righteous indignation. Yes, it is silly that Anna wants to marry some guy she just met, but her desire for companionship, even just a new friend or two, which she expresses in her song “For the First Time in Forever” isn’t that outlandish or anti-feminist of a desire, is it? Who doesn’t want friends and people to talk to each day?

I should also take the time to point out that Anna gets her shit done all on her own. Yes, she enlists the help of Kristoff to guide her up the mountain, but she hires him, pays him for his services, and doesn’t let him slack off on the job.

I guess what I am getting at is that I know that I should be happy that little girls of today are aspiring to be more than just Sleeping Beauty, literally doing nothing until the man of your dreams comes along and only through his actions allows you to be an actualized person, but doesn’t Elsa seem a bit too far in the other direction? Is the answer really to put forth a princess who literally can’t have anyone in her life because she is just so darn powerful?

Because, to me, Anna seems like the better option.  She may not have powers, but she is capable, she filled her life with friends and people she cares about and, while she almost rushed into an ill-advised marriage, she learned some hard lessons about love and growing up that she will hopefully put to use in the future?  She is flawed, but fun. She ends up with a guy, but she cares more about saving the day and her sister than ending up in a romantic relationship.

Maybe priorities really have changed a lot in the two decades since I was a little girl.  In many ways, it feels like progress, but when I hear that little girls would rather be Elsa than Anna, I have to wonder if this is as good a thing as people are making it out to be.  I’d like to hope if I had a daughter, she’d be one of the lone Anna fans.  We could comb the Target aisles buying clearance Anna merchandise hoping there is a space for her to be happy that exists somewhere between the classic Disney princess and the frigid snow queen.

It probably isn’t a good sign that it is Day 2 of this blogging challenge and I am not really sure what I have to say.  Part of the problem is I spent the day on the road driving to LA to spend some time at the Bike for the Circuit event this weekend.  Another part of the problem is the friends I am staying with convinced me to go to Stout Burger and I am now in a “Morning After”-induced food coma that was well worth every bite.

I mean, look at this meal:

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While at dinner, my friend Jamie and I got to talking about the point in college when we went from being acquaintances to being full blown friends.  It happened early in junior year. We were in the same discussion group for our Postmodern Cinema class.  Our TA, the smarmily named Daniel Smith-Rowsey, was awesomely deadpan and hilarious, so, unlike many of our TAs, plenty of people in our section went out of their way to try and impress them.

It should surprise no one that I used to be a massive kiss ass and suck up to professors and teachers, but in college I started to slack off knowing I wouldn’t be held accountable for much  of my college life, save for whether or not I finished my degree.  I turned in papers, I tried to end up on the honor roll, but I didn’t need to prove myself to be the smartest person in the class.

Some other people in our section though, they were out to prove how smart they were.  It is a type or pretention common in film school, but not exclusive to it.  In fact, every department of college I would find these folks who had no clue they weren’t particularly bright to begin with, perhaps because they were too busy trying to prove how smart they were to everyone they could, including Daniel Smith-Rowsey.

The story I am about to tell isn’t just about condemning a film school kid trying too hard.  It is a pretty telling sign that I should have known long before I went to grad school that I was not cut out for the academic and theoretical  discussions that make up academia.

I pause briefly to warn you all that I am about to spoil the plot of a 15 year old movie (which is a stupid thing to have to warn people about if you ask me).  In class, we had watched The Talented Mr Ripley.  If you’ve seen the film, you’ll know it concludes with Ripley (Matt Damon) running off with his newfound gay lover Peter Smith-Kingsley and taking a cruise.  Shortly after the boat departs, Ripley runs into a friend (Cate Blanchett) who believes he is not Tom Ripley, but another person altogether, Dickie Greenleaf.  Once again, Ripley is caught pretending to be someone he is not and he is forced to make a choice about how to keep his secret a secret. 

He can choose to kill Peter or he can try to off Blanchett, who is on the ship with about a dozen friends.  He chooses to kill Peter, continue to live his lie of a life as Dickie, and pretend to Blanchett and co that he is the rich golden boy he never really was.

A girl in our section spends a good five minutes discussing the extensive homosexual metaphor at play here.  This is not just a movie about Ripley trying to be someone he is not. To her, it is a large metaphor about homosexuality and Ripley’s inability to come to terms with his gayness.  “Then it culminates with him choosing to murder his new gay lover to fully quash the bad side of himself, the side that isn’t heteronormative.”

It is at this point that I let out an exasperated sigh and raise my hand. Daniel Smith Rowsey calls on me.

“Listen…while I guess there may be some larger theme at play here, but can we talk about the fact that, from a plot perspective, he can’t do anything but murder the gay lover?”

She doesn’t understand my point, so I continue.

“Ripley can either kill Peter quietly with little issue or he has to kill Cate Blanchett and deal with her horde of friends.  This isn’t a gay metaphor, this is a numbers game.  He’s not repressing his homosexuality on purpose, he is just being pragmatic.”

I knew I was supposed to engage in the debate, propose some other reading of the text or theory about what it means that Tom Ripley lives a lie, but I just couldn’t find the energy to do it.  It happened a lot in grad school too.  The class thought I was a racist because I didn’t have a problem with the barbaric natives in King Kong being Pacific Islanders because, why wouldn’t they be? They are supposed to be in the Pacific Isles.  Or when Indiana Jones shot that ethnic Moroccan man in Raiders because, he is in Morocco. What exactly did you expect him to do, shoot a Swedish guy?

In other words, I am a lazy academic.  I value logic and pragmatism over interpretation.  Before I can think about what something means, I need to know that it makes sense.  It is why this blog is called Cultural Nitpickery.   Sure, I can have the more esoteric debates about what the larger message of a movie is, but not before we can all agree that you don’t have your protagonist kill someone to prove  a higher point in the name of queer theory without it servicing the story first and foremost.

That is why Jamie and I get along so well. She feels the same way and references this comment and my refusal to not just say what is on my mind as the moment that she realized we were going to be great friends.  I’m glad she drew that conclusion, as she is now one of my best friends.  I am also glad that we can agree on tasty burgers and illogical plot points because I am going to sleep well in burger bliss tonight.

This may sound a little odd, but I have always really loved Lent.  Not just Easter, Lent.  That 40-day stretch is a nice time for me to wonder how to be a better person, how to offer more to my family and friends and, in many cases, it is a time for self-betterment.

I always feel a little ambiguous about Lenten promises or giving things up for Lent designed to make me a better person.  The selfishness of these choices seems counter-intuitive to what Lent is about.  I found time to go to church today though and the priest giving the homily put a spin on Lent I really liked.  Speaking of Ash Wednesday, he talked about the symbol of ashes as rebirth.  He encouraged us to think about what in our life might need a rebirth.

As I got to thinking, my mind drifted to this poor, neglected blog.  It gets the short end of the stick so often because I decide I am tired or that I have nothing to write about.  But I also know that, someday in a perfect world, I want to write the cultural think pieces of a Grantland, Vulture, or Previously.TV and I won’t do that without trying.

So now is the time to try.  For the next 40 days I am going to find something to write about every day.  I can tell you right now, several of those days will be spent revisiting Top Chef Season 1, a show I recently re-watched and found I had a lot to say about.  Some days will be spent talking about LA, where I will be spending two weekends over the next month.  And some days I may need some help, so if there is ever anything you wanted my opinion on, now is the time to ask.

I am not normally one to write about something when I don’t have something to say, but now is the time to see if I can do it.  It is a challenge that is probably too selfish to call a Lenten promise, but I hope it will help me rekindle something I’ve been trying to get a grasp on for several years now.

Pray for me?

It has been an overwhelming couple of weeks and this little blog is getting neglected, but I would be remiss to not put my Oscar guesses somewhere, so here they are independent of context:

Best Picture: 12 Years a Slave
Best Director: Alfonso Cuaron, Gravity
Best Actor: Matthew McConaughey
Best Actress: Cate Blanchett
Best Supporting Actor: Jared Leto
Best Supporting Actress: Lupita Nyong’o
Original Screenplay: Her
Adapted Screenplay: 12 Years a Slave
Best Animated Feature: Frozen
Cinematography: Gravity
Documentary: The Act of Killing
Documentary Short: The Lady in Number 6
Cosutme Design: American Hustle
Film Editing: Captain Phillips
Foreign Language Film: The Great Beauty
Make-Up: Dallas Buyers Club
Production Design: Great Gatsby
Original Score: Saving Mr Banks
Original Song: Let It Go
Animated Short: Get a Horse!
Live Action Short: Helium
Sound Editing: Gravity
Sound Mixing: Gravity
Visual Effects: Gravity

I started a project on Spotify last year where I made a playlist of the 12 songs of 2012 that defined my year musically.  Some were songs I listened to on repeat at the gym (hence the inclusion of a Pitbull jam on this list), while others were songs I just associated with memories or people from that 12 month span.  Some were rather old songs, but my rule of thumb was if I discovered them in 2012, then they were up for inclusion, which is how an old John Denver song ended up on my list.

It was a fun exercise and one I finally got around to doing for 2013 just recently.  I didn’t remember the assembly being so difficult last time. This year, I initially dragged over 20 songs into the playlist, then had to slowly cull from there. “No, Jess, you don’t need three Great Big World songs on there,” I told myself. I also cut some of the obvious and ubiquitous songs of 2013 like “Get Lucky” and Bruno Mars’ oeuvre, since it doesn’t exactly feel like the personal experience I am looking for in my selections.  After some cutting, some adding, some deleting, and some adding back, this is what I came up with (alphabetically by title, of course):

“Bellas Finals” by the cast of “Pitch Perfect”

I think Anna Kendrick might be giving Kristen Bell a run for her money as my number one girl crush. I’ve been a fan of hers since I was in college and caught her stealing the show as Fritzi in the delightfully over the top nerdy art kid dream of a movie “Camp”, but for some reason, I never got around to seeing “Pitch Perfect” in theaters. Shortly after the WSOP, I decided to reward myself for surviving the summer with HBO and, rather than dig into “Game of Thrones” straight away, I watched this movie first instead.

It should surprise exactly no one that this movie about arty nerds in college was right up my alley. Picking from the host of quality performances was tough. I almost selected the final performance of the Bellas’ male counterpart, The Treblemakers (I can throw down that rap section in the middle like a beast fwiw), but even though it is 2013, the anthems of 1980s classic films like “The Breakfast Club” (heavily featured here) are going to win me over until at least 2043.

“Catch My Breath” by Kelly Clarkson

In October my friend Elaine and I went to a free Kelly Clarkson taping and we were talking about how strange a role Kelly Clarkson plays in our musical selections. I would never self-identify as a fan of hers, yet when I scroll through Spotify, I have to have at least ten of her songs spread across my playlists. 

Unlike other Clarkson songs, which I enjoy to rock out to on car rides, this particular one stuck with me moreso than the others.  I am not often one to get very self-helpy or aspirational.  I know it works for other people, but that sort of motivational stuff has never done much for me.  But, after a stretch of my year where I felt like I was letting myself be a doormat and feeling pretty stupid about it as a result, this served as my musical pep talk.  And some great running music at the gym.

“Goodnight and Go” by Imogen Heap

One of the good things about attending dance classes regularly is your musical horizons expand along with your range of physical ability. I don’t know if most people realize this, but dancers have great taste in music, so I am always glad to get to non-ballet classes like the contemporary one I took where I was introduced to this song back in the spring.

It also bears mentioning that I am a sucker for a good wistful song.  The kind of song you can listen to when you’ve got a crush.  This one gets a little bit…er…leery?…at points, but I still love so many of the lyrics, particularly the chorus.

“I Want Crazy” – Hunter Hayes

Yes, I like country. Don’t be those people who say it is the worst. You don’t like “everything but country.” If you did, you’re telling me you’ll listen to classical tuba or Native American flute? Enjoy all the polka there is to offer? Didn’t think so.

A lot of people have been hard on the bros of country these days, but I think Hunter Hayes tends to avoid the criticism, in part, because he is that country-lite Taylor Swift-esque country singer and, in part, because the kid is just 22 years old.  I don’t really actively follow the country music scene, but the older the get, the more I find myself defaulting to the country radio station when my phone isn’t an option.  I really don’t know how I became this person. I don’t think I mind being this person as much as I thought I would though.

“Janet” – The Format

I wrote a blog earlier this year about discovering The Format. This is my favorite song from that discovery.

“Just Give Me a Reason” – Pink f. Nate Ruess

Another dance class discovery, this is the song that got me to give fun. more of a chance and, as a result, discover The Format.  While the video of the mattress afloat in the ocean is a little bizarre, Pink, like Kelly Clarkson, keeps sneaking into my music collection without me realizing it.  One thing I learned from dance class? It is surprisingly effective to do crunches to this song.

“Love on Top” – Beyonce

If you weren’t sure I am completely out of touch with the contemporary music scene, this should seal the deal for you. No songs from the new Beyonce album for me, I am just going to continue to rock out, clean the house, go to the gym, and sing in the car to this tune from her 2012 album, 4. 

A brief aside, but given that 2013 was also the year of her Super Bowl performance, can we briefly talk about how people talk about how Beyonce is this incredible dancer? Go watch those Destiny’s Child videos again. This girl was terrible, worst of the three by a mile, but somehow she managed to both get better at dancing and find choreography that highlights what she is good at when it comes to movement. Still though, I find very few of her songs to be very dance-able. My sister played me “Drunk in Love” today and I let out a yawn or two, but other than that, didn’t have much of a reaction. For every great song like “Single Ladies”, there is a super mediocre one like “Best Thing I Never Had”. More throwbacks like “Love on Top” Bey, please.

“My My Love” – Joshua Radin

Do you guys watch “Parenthood”? Hint: “no” is the wrong answer. This show is amazing and amazingly good at getting me to sob like a child.  This song, which plays in the background of Amber and Ryan’s engagement this season, just destroyed me. Such a beautiful song with phenomenal lyrics. It is the kind of love song that makes you hope someone feels that way about you someday, that makes you hope you can feel that way about someone. But this is coming from a gal who is a sucker for any nerd-voiced emo white boy singing acoustic-type music, so you may not want to take my word for it.

“Neon River” – Keane

When I travel for work, I don’t always get to see much of anything outside the casino. So, I make it a point to do as much walking around as I can. Such was the case for my first trip to Melbourne for WSOP APAC this spring.  Walking along the river, this tune from the most recent Keane album caught my ear.  As someone who is positively obsessed with every single track of Keane’s debut album “Hopes and Fears”, the numerous follow ups have all been pretty disappointing, but I dutifully try to give the album a couple of good listens before discarding all but one or two songs. There are songs here and there that I enjoy, like “The Lovers Are Losing” and “Nothin in My Way”, but their “Strangeland” album is the first one in ten years that has me liking the majority of the tracks.  “Neon River” is my favorite and it reminds me of walking along the waters by the Crown, which was easily my favorite part of the APAC trip.

“Say Something” – A Great Big World

Every year on “So You Think You can Dance”, there is a number that takes my breath away, then takes my time away as I rewatch it 100 times on YouTube.  This year, that number was Amy and Robert’s duet to this song. 

You make think you’ve heard this song before, but if you’ve heard the version with Christina Aguilera, I highly advise you to check out the original version, which is simplistic, beautiful, and heartbreaking.  I wouldn’t be exaggerating to say I listened to this song 200 or 300 times this year. I cried with it, I sang along, and I just relished in it, knowing this year I found one of those all-time favorite songs that I will listen to several thousand more times before I leave this world.

“Simple Song” – The Shins

Much like “Parenthood”, “How I Met Your Mother” manages to wow me with their musical choices.  This song plays at the end of last season over the final scene where we get to see the Mother for the first time.  That is what got me to give the song a try, but in the fall, when things were getting a bit overwhelming for me on a lot of fronts, this song’s chorus is was what hooked me in. 

That being said though, did anyone watch this week’s HIMYM, which was told entirely from the Mother’s POV? Delightful vintage quality HIMYM—too bad we have to suffer through so much less than ideal stuff to be rewarded with these little glimpses of awesome.

“Stars and the Moon” – Jessica Mulaskey

There has to be a showtune on this list somewhere.  This one barely snuck in to make the list, but this December, I took a day at work and just cued up every Jason Robert Brown penned song I could find.  It all started because my cousin Joel, an accomplished musical theater composer, started blogging about his creative process.  I was reminded how much I love Joel’s work as well as how great the storytelling in showtunes can be, so I turned to Brown, whose musical “The Last Five Years” is currently being adapted into a movie I positively can’t wait to see featuring (we’re coming full circle here) Anna Kendrick.

This is one of those songs I find it impossible to understand how it took me so long to find it. Brown’s “Someone to Fall Back On” is probably my favorite song of all time. I have songs from the same show as “Stars and the Moon”, but for some reason this tune just lived in a blind spot.

I found it though, then listened to this beautiful story unfold several dozen times, grateful that I found it eventually, even though it may have taken longer than I would have liked.

“Summer Song” – Matt Duncan

Everybody has their song of the summer. Mine just happens to be written and performed by a high school classmate.  I knew Matt’s first album, Beacon, took off a couple years ago. I have all the songs and enjoy his throwback hipster jam band vibe a lot. Unlike many other friends with artistic pursuits, I didn’t listen out of obligation, I listened because I really dug the music and like to humble brag that we sat next to each other in Calculus.

His new album dropped this year and this song was my WSOP jam, keeping me mellow as I drove to the Rio, giving me around three minutes of summer fun before heading in for another long day at the office.

I would approach my recommendations with a grain of salt.  If these 13 songs are any indication, I am pretty eclectic, far from educated musically, and way too emo-y for my own good.  But it is still nice to see what comes my way each year and think about where it comes from.  Of these, absolutely none came across my radar because I heard it on the radio.  In fact, I’d probably wager that will be the case when it comes time for 14 for ’14 too…

Btw, for those who are curious, this was my 12 for ’12:

“Back in Time” – Pitbull
“Bella Donna” – The Avett Brothers
“Even If It Breaks Your Heart” – Eli Young Band
“Gotta Have You” – The Weepies
“Home” – LCD Soundsystem
“I Wanna Dance with Somebody” – Matt Alber (originally by Whitney Houston)
“Meanstreak” – Matt Duncan
“On Your Porch” – The Format
“Poison & Wine” – The Civil Wars
“Sunshine on My Shoulders” – John Denver
“Teenage Dream (Acoustic)” – Darren Criss (originally by Katie Perry)
“Windmills” – Toad the Wet Sprocket

In the almost two decades that my best friend Lindsay and I have been acquainted, we don’t always get to talk much. We haven’t lived in the same place in some time, so we have to get by on phone calls and texting to keep in touch. However, we rarely seem to text about what is going on in our lives. Instead, we text each other random song lyrics or lines from movies, typically designed to make the other one laugh.

Yesterday, I pulled out an old inside joke from our middle school days about “The Chipmunk Adventure”, the 1980s animated movie about Alvin and the Chipmunks as well as the Chipettes, their female counterparts.  Lindsay responded that she tried to explain this classic of our childhood to her European acquaintance and it didn’t go over well.  What follows is us trying to summarize the plot of this film. Be warned, this won’t be amusing unless you are familiar with the film:

Me: “How do you even begin? So there are these prepubescent chipmunks living with a man. And they sing…”

Lynz: “And they have female counterparts who sing about getting lucky…to snakes.”

Me: “And they are left unsupervised and decide to hot air ballooon around the world. It seems innocent enough, but turns out they are inadvertently smuggling diamonds.”

Lynz: “For Russians…”

Me: “Using dolls that look like tiny versions of themselves…”

Lynz: “There’s a really touching scene about the bond between mother and child…”

Me: “Involving penguins.”

Lynz: “Who wear lockets.”

Me: “And the chipmunks singing this song don’t really have a mom, so presumably they’re singing about…Mrs Miller?”

Lynz: “She’s the babysitter…for the prepubescent chipmunks.”

Me: “Who clearly could be doing a better job, as she is blissfully unaware the six of them are romping around the world unsupervised.”

Lynz: “To be fair, the chipmunks did pull off some Ferris Bueller-esque tricks to cover their tracks.”

Me: “Here is a question…do you just not need passports when traveling the world via balloon? Or are there deleted scenes somewhere of them outsmarting customs?”

Lynz: “Wouldn’t some sort of aviation authority have shot them out of the sky?”

Me: “They’d have to have some sort of license at the least. Maybe Claus and Claudia took care of that though?”

Lynz: “Their selection criteria was that the munks could play a hot air balloon video game. Not even a simulator. A game. I don’t think they had their shit together enough to get licenses.”

Me: “I am laughing so hard there are tears. I forgot about the arcade game plot point.”

Lynz: “‘We need an astronaut. Let’s get that kid from Showbiz Pizza who’s kinda good at Galaga.’ What kind of logic is that?”

Me: “But remember they thought no one would find innocent, young, singing chipmunks flying around in hot air balloons suspicious. They were so far above reproach that one tribe veen thought Theodore was a god.”

On the bright side, while searching YouTube for the trailer, I discovered we aren’t the only adults preoccupied with this film.  These guys went so far as to reenact it: