Jackie Brown Roving Mars

Took my grandson and his father to see the widely acclaimed IMAX presentation of "Roving Mars" yesterday.  What a disappointment.  The colors and clarity were terrific, as always, but the narration made no differentiation of what was actual Mars footage and what was clever animation. It would be obvious to anyone with half a brain that movies of the Rovers on Mars could only be made by another Rover, but face it, based on GWBush's still having any showing at all in the popularity polls, how many of our fellow Amurkins have even half a brain?

E'en worse was the animation of the trip to Mars.  Here's this incredibly loud rocket launch, and it stays loud well into outer space.  Each booster separation was accompanied by a thunderclap explosion.  The two tethers which eventually extend to slow the spacecraft's rotation make a "swish swish swish" sound - in the movie at least.  Gentle reader, of course there is no sound transmitted in outer space as there is no air to conduct the sound waves.  Flick was nothing but eye candy.  And ear candy, I guess.  Blah.

The good movie was the re-viewing of Tarantino's "Jackie Brown" eight years after its release.  After Pulp Fiction, his best movie no doubt.  Mr Jackson is terrific and Ms Grier is amazing.  The long, long steadycam shots, the Quentinisms (the VW bus stalls leaving the mall lot, the excessive use of that despicable Nappellation),  the implied but never shown violence, and not being able to predict anything, ever.  Loved it.

The Mysterious East

Herself and I traveled to suburban DC to help our youngest move into her new condomaximum in Falls Church.  The weather was blustery -"bracing" as one of her new building-mates put it.  It's just the place a dad wants for his little girl, roomy yet cozy with a good sized deck; three floors above ground so the risk of break-in is virtually nil.  The building is a ten-year-old brick construction with nice wide hallways and well manicured grounds.  She has secured, monitored parking.  Really a nice place.

First assignment was to repaint the larger of the two bathrooms.  I was tasked with applying both coats of primer and painting the ceiling while them two took off for a fun day of whatever wimmens does when they say they're "shopping."  We had dinner at a strict Muslim restaurant that night, and the cuisine and service were regrettable.  Luckily we had Molly's pal along to supply some much-needed charm at that point in the day.

The drunken salivating oafs who moved some but not all of M's stuff were really the only bad part of the trip.  Two disgusting degenerates who harrassed M for her phone number, for a date, for who knows what she didn't tell me before she got them out of her apartment.  They ended up breaking at least two pieces of her furniture before we were rid of them.

One of the stranger phase changes of the trip was the night M was bringing us back to our hotel, and she and her mother were at each other just like the old days.  Each thrust parried expertly with a stilleto-like rejoinder.  I wisely kept mine own company, huddled in the miniscule back seat of the Civic.  The picking, sniping and bickering lasted up the stairs and down the hallway to our rooms, where, once we were ensconced, M calmly, professionally and expertly got on the phone and internet and directed an international phone conference with the people on her "team" in India.  The women in my life are amazing.

Good to be the grampa

 My grandchildren's mother was taking them to school yesterday. (I was tasked with picking them up from school and entertaining them until their Nana finished her matinee with the Blue Cross/Blue Shield peeps.)

So the grandkids are discussing the upcoming afternoon with yours truly:  Granddaughter says to Grandson, "Maybe you should stay for the after school program.  Just me'll go home with grampa.  That'll be good!  You can stay, and I'll go with grampa.  How about that idea?!" 

Grandson objects, "No way!  And me miss an afternoon with my best bud?!"

I picked 'em up.  Baskin Robbins'ed 'em, took em to the bank for a sucker, past the Walgreen's drive thru, then we went to the park and jumped and swang and screeched and limped around (one of us) until Nana called and said she was on her way home. 

We played "Roll the windows up!  Grampa!!" and  "Roll the windows down Grampa" and "Not that one, the other one Grampa!"

Nana eventually came home, after taking her sweet time, and found the three of us playing Go Fish.  She was pleased; grampa was well rewarded. 

Grampa one happy guy.