Holidays 2008

Christmas has come and gone again for another year. And I look now longingly at The Tree knowing that shortly after New Year's the "Holidays" will officially be over and the Tree will need to be taken down until next time. Grief follows happiness. So the cycle continues.

Gwen and I endured our final Christmas in Europe on the down-low. Most of the week leading up to Christmas I myself was working heavily on the wards, rounding on patients and dodging the various VIPs that like to make their own rounds in the hospital at holiday time. Dennis Farina? I have no time for you - I have patients to see. (I also heard that Kid Rock was around about a week ago. Though I did not see him myself. If I had, I would have probably been implored to tell him that his new song sucks and is a total rip off of far better songs, and to stop rhyming words with themselves. And, uh, thanks for supporting the troops.)

I worked on Christmas itself which was mostly peaceful and fairly pleasant with small exceptions. My favorite part of working in the hospital on the holidays is commiserating with the patients and other staff who are stuck there by constantly commenting that it's "the most wonderful time of the year!" This is my go-to joke in hospital during the holiday season, and it works every time when a patient laments spending Christmas in the hospital, or a fellow employee laments that we're working that day, etc. Whether I actually sing the verse with verve or mutter it almost under my breath, it doesn't matter - it's money in the bank every time. And the busier it gets, or the worse the situation, the funnier the joke.

Christmas night I got home and Gwen and I exchanged gifts. This year I received a batch of Giants Stuff, which is always welcome, some DVDs, books, among other things. My big gift to Gwen this year was a a Kindle, which, after doing research and talking with some people who own one, I feel is perfect for her. This is a woman who reads full books in 1-2 day periods, rereads the same books while wating on other books to arrive, etc. There are not enough books to go around for her, an insane thought but nevertheless true. We have four full size bookcases jam-packed with books, and more always on the way. It's as if the Kindle was made for her, and in fact should have instead been named, simply, "The Gwendolyn".

Unfortunately it's currently on back-order, and it can't be used in Europe anyway, so we're waiting a bit to get it in our hands. Still, our next trip to the States nears, and when it does come that thing is not going to know what hit it.


After presents and dinner Gwen and I scuttled off to Man Room to renew our now annual holiday tradition, that of viewing the Lord of the Rings trilogy in it's Extended Edition entirety. This is fabulous thing to do each year, if one can find the 37 hours necessary to spare to actually sit down and view all of it. We went nightly through the three movies beginning on Christmas with Fellowship and ending on the 27th with Return of the King.

I find myself continually transfixed with this trilogy, and each year it becomes more and more difficult to tell myself that there other movies, anywhere, about anything, more worthy of my time. The trilogy is a masterpiece, and I reaffirm this every time I see it, often in the first few minutes of the first movie, while Sauron poses with the Ring during Cate Blanchett's narrative back-story. The flaws are few and far between, and require what seems like extended and deliberate effort to find. These movies grip me in a way few other films dream of, and they've clearly taken the mantle from Star Wars as the series du jour which defines my love of science and fantasy fiction.

The Two Towers, in particular, continues to grow on me with subsequent viewings. I've said this before but I'll say it again - I think it benefits the most from the Extended Edition treatment and, similarly to Empire, it really adds some of the universe's subtleties which make the entire trilogy more enjoyable. Also it features prominently my two favorite secondary characters, Saruman and Faramir.

The high points are simply too many to list here, but I will say that every time I view the Wizard Fight in Fellowship I find myself thanking Sweet Jesus that I am in fact alive and granted sight. I also enjoy watching Gwen turn into a quivering heap of tears for the entire second half of Return of the King. It gets me every time. It seems I already can't wait until next year.

Lastly, I will mention that fantasy football is officially over for another year. I had four teams in the semi-finals, as I mentioned, but alas, only one took home the Championship The lowly ManRays, of the TFL, who were just 7-6, a lowly 6th seed, became all of a sudden the little team that could while all my other teams, number one seeds all of them, faded away into infamy in some form or another through the rest of the playoffs.

Now football returns to a purer, if somewhat less involved form. Wins and losses are all that matter, and my attention diverts again, like the Great Eye, entirely to the New York Football Giants and their quest for a repeat championship.




"Time? What time do we have?"

"You Underestimate the Power of the Dark Side..."

The Tree is back.

Year after year, The Tree comes back to spruce up the holidays, and this year is certainly no exception. See former versions and a general recap of the story of The Tree HERE.

Gwen and I put The Tree up on the Friday after Thanksgiving. We left shortly thereafter for a week in San Diego, but since we've been back we've been lighting The Tree nightly in ritualistic fashion to help celebrate the holiday season.

This year's ornament additions include several encompassed in a Death Star Throne Room theme. There's the Emperor on his throne, a Crimson Guard, and an Imperial Shuttle (which plays the Imperial Theme at the push of a button - awesome) as well the crowning piece, a little diorama of Luke fighting Vader complete with push-button quotes.

As always, the Tree rocks and Gwen and I always enjoy putting it up, animating it, and later marveling at its splendor on a nightly basis. Hopefully the San Diego boys will be fired up to see in person next year.

In the spirit of our Tree, happy holidays to all!

And now, the pics!

Christmas Tree 2008

The Fantasy Football Tree Giveth...

and the fantasy football tree taketh away.




I am on the cusp of greatness no longer. Two of my four potential champion teams have been hammered this past week. My beloved and sweet Crackheeds were vanquished by Gabe's Pescaderos on Monday night, ironically finished off in one of the worst ways imaginable - by an Eagle. And no ordinary Eagle, but Donovan McNabb, the ringleader himself, whom, even worse, *I* had traded to Gabe only a few weeks earlier for the currently gimpy Brandon Jacobs.

Fantasy Football is indeed a harsh mistress.

My Landstuhl team, the 11-2 powerhouse that it was (the number one seed and 150 points better than the next team, and the one team I was SURE would win), lost to a lowly 5th seed by 10 points. Why? Because Brian Westbrook didn't show up this week - that's why.

Duped by the Eagles twice in the same week. And with a Giant's loss to the Cowboys? I thought this was supposed to be the holidays. If it is indeed, let the heavy drinking begin.

I still have two potential champs in my remaining leagues. We shall see how things go down. But my dreams of being emperor of all of fantasy football have faded....until 2009.

Other tidbits, intended mainly to keep this blog rolling along, at least at a snail's pace:

-I saw a man in clinic this morning came dressed as Santa Claus. The full suit, 300 dollar leather boots, and a 200 dollar leather belt. (He told me the costs). He is a jolly man, for doing the spiel during the holidays. Only I couldn't revel in the joy with him. We focused more on his blood pressure and cholesterol problems.

"Santa's eating a lot of refined carbohydrates to keep warm up there in the North Pole, eh?"

But he did ask me if I had been a good boy this year. It was a weird encounter.

-I had a sleep study last night. For years I've dealt with potential symptoms of narcolepsy, including quick onset of sleep, sleep paralysis, hallucinations upon waking and falling asleep, daytime somnolence, sleep walking, and other things. Talking about these symptoms over the years with Gwen, she encouraged me to get a sleep study, and last night I did. (These are the perks of dating a neurologist.)

It was strange. Imagine pasting (yes, pasting) about 12 electrodes all around your head as well as others on your legs and neck, taping them down, and wearing two bands around your chest and abdomen to measure movement, and placing other wire sensors across your upper lip to monitor air flow and temperature. Now lean back, with weird lights in the room and a fish eye infrared camera on the ceiling that makes noise a creepy mechanical noise as it pans - and go to sleep! It's only a step away from Clockwork Orange - just relax! Luckily I did fall asleep, because I'm good at that. But when I turned on to my side (one of my frequent moves), it took drowsy effort to not become tangled. Also scratching an itch on my face became an act suddenly fraught with peril. And once I had to "detach" to go the bathroom in the middle of the test. That was a total debacle.

Anyway, the study isn't read yet, and there are probably more tests to come, but we'll see what I can find out.



-On a whim I picked up Metallica's new album, "Death Magnetic" a few weeks back. I've been very pleasantly surprised. That thing absolutely rocks. It's MUCH better than "Chinese Democracy", the new Guns and Roses offering, which I also picked up a few weeks back. That one...is not so good.





GOOD





BAD

Any questions?

On the Cusp of (Fantasy) Greatness

(Note: If you don't care about fantasy football, skip this post.)

Here we stand on Saturday night (or Sunday morning) prior to Week 15 of the 2008 season in the NFL, otherwise and more importantly known as the semifinals week of fantasy football. Once again I've involved myself with no less than four fantasy football leagues this season (though for this year, unlike last, I DID manage to cut out NFL Salary Cap Football, Yahoo Pick 'Em, Fantasy Basketball, Fantasy Baseball, and even Fantasy Hockey. Also I'm not in a survivor pool this year - but that one was an oversight.) I also participate in a yearly pick 'em pool (against the spread) and just for the record in case any government people are reading this pool is totally for fun and we don't gamble with real money at all.

Anyway, this NFL season, so far, has been kind to me in many ways. (Though no matter how it ends, it almost assuredly cannot top the end of last season, when my beloved Giants took home the ultimate prize in the most awesome fashion against the most evil team ever, but I digress. ) This season the Giants are currently 11-2, and though I wish our star receiver hadn't shot himself in the leg at a night club, because he really does make us better and much harder to defend, I certainly can't complain. The Giants at least will be in the playoffs and have as a good a chance as anybody of being Super Bowl Champions once again.

On the fantasy side, things have also been going well. A little too well, perhaps, and maybe, just maybe I shouldn't be writing this jinxing post. But oh well, here it goes.

As I mentioned, and despite my best intentions to wean to only three, I currently play in four fantasy leagues:

1)My oldest, proudest, and most competitive league, Mick's League O' Micks, now in its tenth glorious season. (Visit our Web Site!)

2)The second oldest, second proudest and also quite competitive league, spawning from my residency days, The Triple FL, now in its sixth(?) season.

3)The third oldest, most on-the-spot trash talking league (it's a work league - we see each other every day), The Landstuhl League, now in its third season.

4)The fourth oldest, or newest league which started last year as a way to reconnect with some medical school people, the league known simply as "Balls" (we're highly educated professionals, and this is what we name our league), now in it's second season.

Two of these leagues are 10 team leagues (MLOM, Balls), and two of these leagues are 12 team leagues (The Triple FL, Landstuhl). Mick's League O' Micks dominates about 85% of the time I spend on fantasy football. The Triple FL and the Landstuhl league take up a combined 12% split about evenly, and the Balls league is almost an afterthough, taking about 3% of the overall time invested. That's not a slight against Balls, just a fact - there's only so much time in the week. Luckily investing time in MLOM has trickle-down effects on the other leagues - each league is based on the same players of course.

At the end of the regular season, through a little skill and mostly luck I managed to have the top seed in 3 of these leagues, the lone exception being the Madigan league (in which I drafted Tom Brady in the first round) where I managed only a 6th place finish, bringing home a blase 7-6 record. Even so, this team made the playoffs. Because of other successes and certain playoff formats, two of my teams (MLOM, Balls) had first round byes and two teams had quarter-final games last week. I won both of those.

So now I sit in the semi-finals with four viable teams and three number one seeds. I have several good players common to at least three teams, including Drew Brees, Larry Fitgerald, Thomas Jones, Calvin Johnson, the Pittsburgh Defense and some role players as well. I have Adrian Peterson in two leagues and Kurt Warner in two leagues. Not hard to see why it's been a solid year.

Anyway with this sort of schedule there comes a lot of stress, and tomorrow's set of football games will be no exception. As one could imagine, it becomes difficult to decide who to root for at times because obviously there are some cases where I will be playing both with and against certain players. And I may possibly have players on fantasy teams going against the Giants in (quote) real life. So to avoid confusion and undo stress I have devised some simple rules on who or what to root for:

1)The Giants come first - every time.

2)LT's Crackheeds (my MLOM team) comes second.

3)The other teams and their various players come next, depending on how many teams I have a certain player on, how a particular fantasy team is doing that week, what I "need" from certain players, and of course all this keeping in accord with rules one and two above.

I tend not to draft Cowboys or Eagles on my teams (on my MLOM team at least) which make rules 1 and 2 go together pretty easily. There are exceptions to this drafting rule at times, of course, and occasionally an Eagle or Cowboy will rear his ugly head on my team.

So tomorrow is a big day. The Giants play the Cowboys (at 2:30 am in the damn morning) and I have four fantasy playoff games going. There could be some stress. There will be some stress. But it will also be fun. (Though sadly the stress will probably outweigh the fun - why do I do this again?)

Most seasons I play in three or four fantasy leagues and if I don't manage to win the championship in at least one league I end up considering that season a fantasy failure. I've won two championships the same season only once I believe. And now I hover on the edge of multiple championships again. If I don't win any this year, given the fact that I have four teams in the final four at this very moment, I will definitely call this season a huge fantasy failure. I'm hoping to nab all four, which of course would make me the stuff of legend, but I doubt that will happen, and so I'd be happy with two, I think, as long as MLOM is one of them. If I fail to win at MLOM, then only the other three combined could potentially soothe me. And if any of these combos don't occur, then the Giants must win the Super Bowl. Oh wait, that must happen every year anyway - at least if heavy drinking in the offseason is to be avoided.

We shall see.

I enjoy fantasy football, and the end of the fantasy season (which happens at the conclusion of week 16, aka Championship Week) is always a little sad. There's a silver lining too, though, in that all the stats and numbers go away except for one - the scoreboard. And that's nice, because it returns the sport - in a rooting sense - to its purest form.

But we're not there yet. And for now, I'm off to research this week's kicker match-ups. Every point counts.

Straight West Coastin'

Got back from San Diego today after a quick week-long trip to begin the frenzied job search process. More on that in a second. First a couple of quick pre-trip updates:

-Birthday came and went on November 19th; Gwen and I went to Julien (French Restaurant) in K-town that evening, very quiet and very nice. My birthday fell on a Wednesday, so the following weekend we took a day trip up to Frankfurt and spent the night in a nice hotel, and enjoyed a well-researched sushi dinner, all courtesy of sweet Gwendolyn. The sushi was actually pretty solid, at least tied (with a place in Munich) for the best I've had in Europe. A nice weekend.

-Thanksgiving came and went. Gwen and I journeyed to Heidelberg for this to have dinner with an old Madigan colleague, Dr. Allision, and his family, who are now stationed over there. A very pleasant day. I spent the Saturday and Sunday of Thanksgiving working, and also preparing for....

SAN DIEGO

Gwen and I flew out last Monday and returned today, quite the quick trip to travel all the way to the West coast. For good and bad, it will be a trip we will be making likely several more times in quick succession over the next six months. Good because it is part of our much heralded transition to civilian life. Bad because it requires a ridiculous amount of fatiguing time in plains, trains, and automobiles. Gwen and I emerged from our flight to Frankfurt this morning bleary-eyed like a pair of zombies on the hunt for brains. Sadly, the traveling part of traveling really does get old.

But the upside easily outweighs the down. I got to see my peeps, go to the annual Baditude Holiday Christmas Party (awesome), and through the interview process realize that there is indeed tangible life after the Army.

I spent the bulk of my week in a suit driving all over San Diego County and meeting with various physicians. The good news is that there are job opportunities there. The bad news is trying to decided which one to go for as there are many different types, styles and locations to choose from. Not a bad problem to have, of course, but not the sort of decision to take lightly. Anyway, more later. I'm jetlagged and have to take call the next two nights, which I'm not exactly thrilled about.

On top of that, I've got fantasy football playoff games to gameplan for!

Peace.

Barack Obama is My Hero

Ugh, when I restarted this blog after the summer vacation my intent was to post roughly twice a week. I haven't quite met that goal, and frankly I blame the football season. Every Sunday I stay up until 2 am to finish watching all the "afternoon" games and then Monday I'm a train wreck having to go to work on about 5 hours of sleep. After Tuesday it's time to start my weekly fantasy football notes for my "main" league; those suck up two solid days of writing effort and can wear me out. After that, I'm spent on writing, and so this place remains empty. (Oh, also on a side note, I'm looking for a job - but that's much less important than weekly fantasy football notes.) So that's the quick synopsis.

Today is Monday, and again I'm tired, this time after watching the Steelers stave off the Chargers late last night, but I'm also determined to slap out a freaking post. I've been wanting to post about the election results ever since the magical day itself but haven't found the time. Now we're two weeks status post election and it already seems like ancient history, which is too bad in some ways. I wish I'd touched on it back during the actual week of the election, but oh well. I'm posting some quick thoughts now just so I can look back in a few years and remember how damn fired up I was.

Barack Obama won the election two Tuesdays ago and it's by far the most fired up I've ever been after any election. For a week straight, I watched as the world celebrated his win. What a telling thing, to watch the entire world go absolutely apeshit for his victory. Think that happened in 2004? Think everyone's had enough of Bush? (Frankly, the whole scene reminded me of the end of Return of the Jedi, when the Emperor's just been defeated and the second Death Star destroyed, and everyone around the universe is celebrating. There's happy music playing, people are dancing, and some Ewoks are playing drums on neo-con skulls.)

It was Wednesday morning here when the results were in. Gwen had woken up in the middle of the night to check the results so she had already told me in some sleep-addled fog. But after waking up officially and looking at the screens, and then hearing it on the radio while I drove in, it became real - and awesome. I had to get up at the crack of dawn that Wednesday to do an Army weigh-in. After the weigh in at 6 am, I killed time in the darkened internal medicine waiting room watching the TV normally seen by our patients as they wait for appointments. I just flipped around the channels watching result after result and I just had a huge grin on my face.

The results were pouring in and there were cutaways to scenes around the country, and the world for that matter, of people just going nuts. I wanted to be out there with them. I was totally fired up. And I don't normally care too much about politics. But suddenly I just was like Stan's dad on South Park in their post-election show (those guys schooled me good with that one).

That whole day and the rest of the week I was just beaming. It was like the Giants had just won that amazing Super Bowl again - that's how I felt. (Though not quite THAT good. Come on, this is the fate of the free world - but that's football. Actually, the parallel there is eerie. I watched that Giants Super Bowl hoping for a win, desperately hoping, but bracing for the loss. Same thing with the election. I was ready to be let down - again. And then - I wasn't. And I went nuts.) Driving in my car the whole next week, I'd just think about the election result and pump my fist in celebration. I loved it. I must have listened to "You Got the Touch" on my Transformers Soundtrack twenty times, making up mental montages of Barack Obama smiling and waving. For a few days I'm pretty sure I became an Obama groupie.

On Saturday after the election I was at work and took a break to wolf down a salad. I sat at my work computer and watched his full acceptance speech and I was downright emotional, nodding silently (salad spilling down my white coat), bordering on tearful. Actually, in retrospect, it was a little ridiculous. But that's how much it affected me. Craziness.

The guy came out, calm and collected, stammer-free and delivered a knockout speech. Best of all, his thoughts were coherent, his sentence structure solid, and he even used some compound words! Mostly, I just thought he sounded very presidential. Man it will be nice to have that back, I thought. I pumped my fist a few more times.

Now a few weeks later things have started to settle down again. All eyes are on Obama and he has a huge task facing him. I have no idea how things will turn out, no idea how effective a president he'll be, and over time now my euphoria is fading back into reality and I'm slowly reverting back to my politically apathetic self. I have other things on my mind. But that week was pretty cool, in retrospect. Hopefully my excitement will be justified and my hopes will ring true and it'll carry over for four years of generalized improvement in America. Regardless, at the very worst, it was nice to have some hope forcefully rekindled in our great nation.

Quick, somebody hand me a flag. After the last eight years, I finally feel like waving it again.

"I wanna be an American Idiot"

Today is election day, which is something of a relief. Not necessarily because we're electing a new president, but more importantly because we will be ending the non-stop campaign coverage which has decimated our lives over the past three, no wait six, no wait twelve, no weight eighteen months, like a series of prolonged carpet bombings. After an hour with any news channel, I find myself wandering, disheveled and emotionally battered, not to mention hoarding canned goods and bottled water.

It's pretty disheartening to see what American Elections have become, and the massive amount of money poured into the campaign machines. It's possibly even more disheartening to watch the news media's coverage of it all, with the not-so-subtle leanings of the different channels to the blatant fear-mongering to the anything-for-ratings style presentations of "facts".

The funny thing is I don't even watch TV on a regular basis (other than football). Everything I just complained about basically comes from the last many months of me walking back and forth past our waiting room at work, which features a large TV often tuned to said coverage. I'll catch a minute here or a minute there, shake my head, and go on about my day.

(The only upside to all this election madness is the wonderful, wonderful Daily Show with the funniest man alive today in my opinion, Jon Stewart. He has succeeded in making a mockery of the news (and especially the election news) on every level, and I for one love him for it.)

Frankly, I get pretty tired of talking about politics, so I don't do it that much other than cracking jokes with people who I know think like me. In terms of the spectrum, I'm pretty liberal, but actually right on the border between liberal and libertarian. Which means that socially I'm almost a pure liberal, but economically I can go either way depending on the day of the week or my mood, but I usually end up somewhere in the middle.






In many ways, I'm still in disbelief over the past eight years of American "leadership". For one, the 2000 election of Bush over Gore was one of the shadiest things I've ever seen in national politics; honestly I think it was worse than Watergate, because at least we know what happened with Watergate. In the case of the 2000 election and the Florida debacle, we don't even know what really happened. Counts, recounts, Jeb Bush. All I do know is that the whole thing seemed ridiculously shady and yet no one talks about it or has forgotten about it. I still don't think Bush was actually elected then, but here we are. No use crying over spilled milk I guess.

What's worse though is the fact that the US actually reelected Bush in 2004. I'm going to type that again. The US actually reelected George W. Bush in 2004. This is about as baffling as it gets for me. About 50% of people said "Hey, this guy ain't bad - I'm voting for him!" I'm still completely stunned by this when I really stop to think about it. To be honest, though, I don't stop and think about it too much, because when I do, I get upset and bitter. (See next paragraph.)

As far I'm concerned, any country where 50% of the people reelected "W" probably deserve whatever is coming to them. A horrible war or two, massive debt, a housing collapse, the ire of the rest of the world, repealed civil rights, economic disaster - nothing is too horrible to wish on them. Oh wait, it's all already here. Strong work America! Eight years in the toilet. At least we have a lot of empty platitudes involving the word "Freedom" and how much we love it. It sure has been fun!

(Whoops, I stopped and thought about it. See? Bitter.)

Anyway, about two weeks ago I cast my absentee Texas ballot (for Obama, shock), and so I guess did my job as a citizen. (Though there is almost no point to someone with my views voting in a state like Texas.) As of right now the polls say Obama will win, so that's good for me.

Either way, everyone's somewhat of a winner when a certain somebody steps down from office in January. I think we can all agree on that.

My Summer Vacation, by Mike S.

Today was my first day off since the 13th of October, and I promised myself I would do two things. One was work out, the other was write a blog post. And once I hit "publish post", it looks like I will have managed to do both. (For the record, I also slept in, played some Madden, and drank a lot of coffee.)

Work has been ridiculous lately and a scheduling disaster happened which put me on the wards for two weeks straight. The team I was rounding on was large (rarely less than 15 patients in 14 days) and was constantly turning over, meaning that I was constantly turning over the paperwork, and staying long hours on a daily basis. It reminded me of my residency days in many ways, and not the fun parts.

As Gwen and I work toward separating from the US Army here in the next eight months I'm constantly wondering when I can flick the "mentally checked out" switch. Clearly, it's not yet, but I sort of wish it was.


Summer came and went, and based on some of the emails and messages I received it seems people are tired of loading this page up to see once again the Joker's long purple coat and little else. My apologies for that. I would say there are two reasons for the discrete lack of blogging of late. One reason was the immense traveling we did at the end of summer. The other reason was, and is, quite frankly - the football season.

Readers may or may not be comforted by the fact that though this particular blog has been dormant, the blog I run for my "main" fantasy football league (I have four leagues, hence the "main" distinction) has been quite active on a week to week basis. Most readers, however, will also lament that it's a blog about a fantasy football league, and little else, and there really would be no reason at all to read it unless you were a part of that league. Hence, I will not link it here. The point of mentioning it is that the other blog takes up the time I'd normally focus here. (Actually, come to think of it, it's staggering to think just how much the football season affects me in terms of time, mood, sleep, and overall health. But that's for another post.)

So I've been wanting to fire up the old Discostup blog again but between work, travel, and football season I haven't really had the time or energy to sit down and really crank out anything worth reading.

Also, in the past, I've made the mistake of trying to "come back" with a monster post, intending to make up for all the lost time by blasting readers with a mega-post. I won't be doing that this time, though given how easy the words are coming off the keyboard at the moment, I might just ramble on a bit further than I intended.

When I last posted I had just seen the Batman movie (see last post!). About two weeks after that Gwen and I headed up to Stockholm, Sweden for an extended weekend. After Stockholm we had about a day to collect ourselves before gearing up and spending two weeks in San Diego where we are both currently looking for jobs. Back in August (and into early September), I should add that it was really only Gwen actively looking at that time. (I hope all who know us are sitting, because I'm sure what I'm about to tell you may shock you. Yes, it's true, Gwen beat me to the punch in terms of job hunting. I'll just give you a minute.) My interests at the time were more in line with hitting the beach, taking a load off, and of course participating in the 2008 version of Best Day Ever, which centers annually around, what else, a fantasy football draft.

Upon our return from San Diego, Gwen and I went through the usual post-vacation depression and dove back into work. We unfortunately haven't been able to travel all that much since, because of frequent call and all the time we spent Stateside, with one large exception. Earlier in October I alone (Gwen was working) was able to meet up with my parents and some family friends (Ceil and Ken) in Venice, Italy over another long weekend.

And so, before moving on to other topics great and small, in other posts, I will briefly recap the recent travels.

First up was Stockholm, a clean and expensive city with good seafood and the best phrase for saying 'Hello' we've ever encountered. The way to say hello in Swedish is to simply say "Hey". When you don't know that, however, it can make for interesting encounters, like the time you enter a store and an employee looks at you and says, "Hey". Interpretations could vary in meaning and tone, from "Hey!" (what the hell do you think you're doing?!) to "Hey" (with a quick head flip, as if you're my best friend and I've known you for years). Either way, the response in the beginning is always a guarded return "Hey" and then quickly moving about your business. As the weekend went on, however, it was kind of fun to play with, and saying "Hey" became kind of an amusing game. Often I'd have to prevent myself from responding "Heyyyyyyy" with varying tone inflections or the like. Regardless, "Hey" is the best "Hello" there is, at least in any country I've been to.

Another amusing part of the Sweden trip that I almost forgot was that the Olympics were on while we were there. I sort of got into Team USA hoops (and I've always loved Track and Field), so a few times Gwen and I went around looking for a TV to watch things (usually me dragging Gwen to watch hoops). Sweden does not have what I would call a strong Summer Olympics team, but this olympics they did have one key figure who dominated all their coverage - it was a table tennis player. Amidst all the Asians who dominate the sport, he seemed to be like an out-of-place Viking in a samurai movie. His picture was everywhere in Stockholm, like a Swedish Michael Jordan. For some reason I just found this hilarious.




This guy can have any woman in Sweden



And with that, let's move on to some pics:

Stockholm-Aug 08

Next up was our trip to San Diego. Two weeks of fun in the sun and of course, Best Day Ever 2008. Gwen did a lot of job interviews, and I tried to relive a small portion of "Summer of the Bum" (the real event occurred back in 1997) by hanging out with friends, hitting the beach, and basically just kicking back. I'm not going to rehash the entire two weeks but it was a lot of fun and the trip sort of sealed the deal for me that I need to go back to San Diego when I'm done with the Army.

Best Day Ever 2008 was actually stretched into a Best Weekend Ever 2008, and of course culminated in the annual Mick's League O' Micks draft party which was held at the Papa Roston's Pleasure Palace. Unfortunately there aren't many pics of the occasion on my camera (and the few pics I do have are of Eryn in his "thong" on draft day. Yes, he lost a best involving last year's fantasy team and had to draft for a few rounds in nothing but a thong this year. Most people losing this bet would have sheepishly complied, but let's just say that Eryn is not the shy type, and several of us learned that day that there are some things, once seen, that cannot be unseen.) Let's just move on.

The last recent trip I took was to Venice, where as I mentioned above I met my parents and some old family friends. The weather was nice (so nice that I got eaten alive by mosquitos) and we had a great time catching up. Going in I thought Venice would be a little too touristy and quaint for my taste, but I must say that though it is a very touristy city it still has something really unique and cool about it. It's definitely worth a trip, especially considering that there is Italian Food and Gelatto everywhere. The centerpiece of Venice is Saint Mark's square which more or less defines the classic "European Square". Saint Mark's Basilica, which is the centerpiece of the square, is really eye catching and even a person such as myself who's nearly burnt out on European churches at this point can be really impressed.

As always it was great to see my parents, even if my dad did develop a crack-like addiction to "Spaghetti Bolognese" (the guy ordered it EVERY meal. That's not an exaggeration.)

I leave you with Pics:

Venice Oct 08

Dark Knight

So Gwen and I saw "The Dark Knight" last night.

I liked it, liked it just fine as a matter of fact. But at the risk of being unpopular (since there seems to be a Batman love-fest going on right now), I didn't love it. I definitely found it to be uneven at times. And sadly, the biggest problem? It's Christian Bale. He's really not that good, and the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced of this. He's not terrible by any means, but he's just, well, flat. He doesn't excite me. And I think that's what really holds this movie back. He's surrounded by really strong talent on all sides (Oldman, Freeman, Caine, and of course Ledger), but he just didn't quite hold his own in the big scenes when he really had to, at least not for me, and he's supposed to be the damn hero. (And I'm not just talking about that gravelly whisper-voice, which while annoying, seems to serve a purpose to further hide his identity.)

So compared to the other big superhero movies, even the ones from just this summer, Batman suffers from the worst lead. Robert Downey Jr. turns in a monster performance in Iron Man, and I really liked Ed Norton as Bruce Banner, but Bale just doesn't measure up to that level of talent in my opinion. Which is a shame.

My other big complaint is the number of half-fleshed out subplots which didn't really amount to a ton by the end. Also, I never really got the superhero chills in this movie - I was never incredibly revved up to be watching. In every other superhero movie worth it's salt, I get this sort of vibe at least once, where I'm ready to hi-five the people next to me in the theater. This one, with it's more suppressed tone (not a bad thing necessarily), just didn't do that for me.

Other than that though, I did enjoy the movie. Ledger, who is of course getting mad press, really does seem to live up the hype. After the first scene or two I wasn't sure, probably because I was expecting instant miracles after said hype, but after he got going I was really into him. He nailed it. Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, and Gary Oldman likewise were nails. So was the guy who played Harvey Dent. And Maggie Gyllenhall was a serious step up from Robo-Wife-of-Tom-Cruise Katie Holmes, who threatened to single handedly derail Batman Begins, which is overrated to me (again, heavy Bale involvement).

So there it is, let the hate mail from my WCD breathren pour in.

Other thoughts:

-Every Superhero movie from this past rush of Superhero movies (over the past 10 years or so) has some big weakness which foils it's potential Lord of the Rings-esque greatness. Even my beloved Spiderman.

F0r these Batman movies, it's Bale (among other things). For Spiderman, it's the 25 minute love discussions between Peter Parker and Mary Jane. For Iron Man, it's the last battle. For Hulk, I think it's that the main hero character is basically CGI. And so on. They all have their problems which keep them from being in that unbridled 5-star class like LOTR.

-Of all the Batmans, I liked Michael Keaton the best. That said, I think Clooney has/had the most potential to be even better. Sure, he was stuck in Schumacher's disgraceful "Batman and Robin", but I think in the right setting, even these movies, he could knock the role out of the park. Maybe he's not dark enough, not sure, but he's a good enough actor to pull it off, I think.

Muscles from Brussels

For those of you don't remember, the phrase "Muscles from Brussels" was a surrogate name of sorts for the one and only mega-action star/"actor" otherwise known as Jean Claude Van Damme.

That's right - THE Jean Claude Van Damme.

(Note: From here on out, Jean Claude Van Damme will be referred to as JCVD. It's easier to type, and apparently it's also the title of a documentary on his life. Check the link)


My thoughts drifted often to JCVD as Gwen and I spent a weekend in his hometown. Whether it was haggling over a souvenir and wondering if I would have to deliver a jumping, spinning roundhouse kick to the merchant's face to get the price I wanted(*) OR wondering when I'd have to bust out those sweet splits followed by a quick groin punch to some mugger's 'nads as Gwen and I walked through a sketchy part of town, (**) I knew that the spirit of JCVD traveled with us everywhere we went.


(* Line of choice following said kick, as the merchant lies in a pool of his own teeth: "Negotiation Over.")

(** No line here, but to set the imagery a little more this punch would be one of those no-look punches where, as I was still in the splits - which I would have busted out in a millisecond I might add - I would look away with a primal, slow motion, face-quivering-side-to-side yell as my balled fist, connected to a ridiculously ripped, veiny arm, delivered the goods.)

Sorry, just wanted to go off on how sweet JCVD was there. Does anyone remember his movies? Bloodsport? Time Cop? Double Team? Sudden Death?! I mean there is some real quality crap in there if you know what you're looking for. I love me some JCVD.

The drive to Brussels took roughty 3 to 4 hours and was relatively pleasant and straightforward. Gwen had picked out a Bed and Breakfast which sounded pretty quaint but turned out to be a moldy, small-bedded death room not fit for a jail. OK, that's an exaggeration, but the room wasn't really all that sweet. Apparently most of the rooms in this particular B&B are pretty nice, but since we called late in high tourist season we got stuck with the musty basement room. The bed was a double, and only had ONE blanket, which was about 6 feet by 4 feet and ensured a nightly tug of war the entire first night, though we tried to be civil about it. The room was so bad that by Saturday we had talked ourselves into just getting a hotel room at the Sheraton nearby and eating the cost of the second night at the B&B (which thankfully was quite cheap). Gwendolyn beat herself up about the choice of accommodations but after all the planning she has done over our years of traveling I think she gets a freebie for this one, which wasn't even her fault. (So there Gwendolyn.)

Also the B&B wasn't in the best part of town, being located in the immigrant "Turk" area and made for some sketchy walking the first night, until we knew where we were going. Luckily, again, I had a plethora of go-to JCVD moves at my disposal if things got out of hand. Thankfully, for any would be assailants that is, they didn't.

We also had trouble finding a place to eat Friday night, settling for some sort of generic place called the "Brussels Grill". It was the only thing we could find open, but again this was mostly our lack of knowledge of the town at this point.

Things definitely picked up the rest of the trip after that first night.

The guidebooks will tell you that Belgium is famous for waffles, beer, and chocolate. And they are right on all three accounts. I'm surprise people are not more in love with the Belgians just for these reasons. The beer is some seriously high quality stuff and they take it as seriously as the French take their wine only without the hoisted noses. The chocolate is ridiculous, and even the waffles have a little something extra. You know something? That country is alright. It even got Gwen to drink beer (albeit Cherry Beer, which, though good, is not quite "beer beer") and like it.

Saturday we did some hop on hop off bus tour which got ruined halfway through because of a massive thunderstorm which lasted about an hour. Still, despite the halting pause, it was a nice way to see the city. The coolest part which I wish we could have visited more was the ATOMIUM, a humoungous replica of an iron crystal in atomic form. (Given the storm and the bus, I couldn't really get any good pics, hence the link.)

Other Brussels highlights were the "Grand Place" (simple but effective naming), and several World War II Memorials (there all so much better outside of Germany - I wonder why?) When not on the bus Saturday, Gwen and I tromped around just checking things out. Aside from the brisk thunderstorm, the weather was actually pretty good.

Deciding on this trip to forgo any fine art museums (we've seen a lot of art lately), Saturday afternoon we instead headed to a comic museum. Brussels is actually known as "The Comic City" in some circles, and we did pass multiple comic stores. Problem was everything was in French, so boo that. Also, this museum dealt exclusively in the Belgian Comic Scene, which apparently has a rich and storied past that I know absolutely nothing about. With one exception: The Smurfs. And there was an entire smurf display which was pretty cool (and actually had English descriptions, something the rest of the museum lacked). It was neat, but we didn't end up staying as long as I would have thought at a placed called a Comic Museum.

On Saturday Gwen booked reservations at some super fancy restaurant which turned out to be a great choice. The highlight of this place, other than the amazing food, was the unisex bathrooms which had translucent/clear doors on the stalls which turned opaque only after they were locked! As Gwen and I were both leaving the bathroom and about to leave the restaurant, we spied some lady having "trouble" with this concept - she was seated on a stall reaching out for the lock and missing a couple of times before getting it. Seeing her, sitting there on a toilet seat, in FULL view, was a little awkward...

Sunday, after enjoying a good night's sleep courtesy of our much, much, much better room (and king -size bed), we walked around a bit in the late morning and into lunch, drank another beer or two, bought some beer and chocolate to take home, and then headed out. On the way home we nearly ran out of gas, which caused some, uh, consternation, but we eventually found a gas station in some vineyard town before having to resort to pushing the car.

And that was that. Brussels is a good town, and definitely worth a look if for no other reason than the beer and chocolate.

Pics!

Brussels July 2008

Godspeed Pete Henning

Yes, Pete is gone. ("Destroyed...by the Empire.") But he wasn't blown up, like Alderaan. He merely flew out yesterday, rather, off to Washington D.C. to begin his Rheumatology Fellowship at Walter Reed. I'll never forgive him for it, frankly, leaving me and Gwen like this. Leaving us alone, Pete-less, in this big scary Europe. How dare he? After all we've been through. We feel abandoned.

It was a bummer, to be sure, to see Pete go. We've had lots of fun in the past three years in Europe (and other places), and during the past six years total since I first met the guy. My first memory of him was him cracking some joke about gall bladders at lunch when we were interns. I don't remember what he said, just his midwest accent and goofy smile. This guy is alright I thought, alright indeed.

Cut away to six years later and we've been around the world together, from the best places to the worst (Speaking of, I'll never forget what an awesome sight old Pete Henning was that first night at FOB Falcon in Baghdad when I first arrived after completing what were probably the two most stressful weeks of my life. Whoa - listen to me - something tells me I'll be telling that story 40 years from now while I wear a hat covered in war pins, but still, it's true. Anyway, it was like something out of movie; I just finished riding a blackhawk over Baghdad war skies wondering if a rocket was screaming toward me the entire time, and then an hour later Pete and I are cracking jokes in some shitty dorm room on some shitty FOB in some shitty country and everything was just a little better, just because he was there. Good stuff this "friends" thing, I'm telling you. ) We've had a lot of fun from our trio with George days in residency to our early European exploration to our seasoned veteran traveling.

Anyway, all that said, I won't ruin a perfectly good post with sappy stories of fun times or anything, but I will say it's sad to see friends leave. Nothing profound there, just a fact.

Oh I'll see Pete Henning again, pleny of times, make no mistake. But will I ever live near him again? Who knows.

And with that, let's do this. What eveyrone came to see. What everyone NEEDS to see. The Pose montage.

...there's gonna be a MON-TAGE....


In chronological order...


Insurgent's worst nightmare, March 2006

(It took us about five minutes upon getting together at FOB Falcon to start playing with our gear, our weapons, and the camera. About 200 meters away from this shot, across walls that is, there was a damn war going on - it was a mixed Shiite, Sunni neighborhood. And about 800 meters away in the other direction, some feral dogs were on the prowl looking for a fight....)




Baghdad, FOB Falcon, Fall 2006, and the picture that launched "The Pose" for many trips to come.

(Yup, this one started it all. Taken by my PA Jeff. I don't know what the hell brought it up, the idea. This picture was months after the one above, and after my leave from Iraq. We were probably a month away from leaving country at this point, maybe less. I think it was October.)



Berlin, before New Year's, 2006

(Now it's starting to become a trend. The temperature was probably in the 30's this day - I think Eryn took this picture. This was part of our back-from-Iraq drinking binge New Year's extravaganza. Frankly it's kind of fuzzy.)



Berlin, drunken New Year's Eve 2007

(Now we're cooking with gas. And booze. This was just after getting out of the cab which we took from a Spanish Restaurant where we ate dinner (and where we were scowled at mightily I might add by the Germans, simply because of how Pete was dressed and because we were drunk and maybe a tad loud - but come on people, it was New Year's!) Anyway, it's around 11 pm New Year's Eve when this shot was taken. It was cold as hell but I didn't care or feel it at that moment, I mean look at me I'm sauced. After this picture our group (six in all) trekked around to find the Brandenburg Gate and the center of New Year's festivities. I remember, maybe a half hour after this photo, Pete went looking for a short cut through some woods and coming back a few minutes later with no new secret path, just a large cut on his face from a low branch. Good times.)





Chamonix, Winter 2007

(Taken by Libby. Not the best snow in the world that trip, but you just can't beat the scenery of the Alps. Just can't. Oh wait, it's not a Pose either. How'd this get in here?)




Bermuda, George's Wedding weekend, May 2007

(Spring time and love is in the air. George and Cristin. Me and Pete. The Bermuda shorts make this one an instant classic. There's another shot like this one (we always took a few) where I'm about to fall and both Pete and I are in stitches. Maybe I'll put it up one day...)





George's Wedding Day, Bermuda, May 2007

(We couldn't resist the opportunity to take one of these babies in our suits and in perhaps with the best scenery of any of these shots. This one might be my favorite - this or drunken Berlin.)






George's Wedding night, Bermuda, May 2007

(No pose here, either, just a few too many and a camera sitting around. )



Dublin, Ireland, 2007

(Ireland was a great trip. This shot is taken at the University, and the statue behind us is of some "crusty dean" who wouldn't admit women. Apparently after he died, they got right in. There's more to that story, but that's all I can remember for now. I think this is the first shot since the original where I go left arm on torso - I'm still figuring out which side works best to hold Pete.)



Croatia, the first trip, August 2007

(Pete really nailed the tender aspect of the mock kiss in this one, kind of like Bermuda in suits. (He's getting good at it by now, just look at him screw it up royally back in Berlin for contrast purposes.) This was taken in Mali Losinj, a place I could honestly live and just one town over from my grandfather's village, Veli Losinj.)




Barcelona, October 2007

(I'm pretty sure I can still hear John Lesher cackling as this shot was taken. This was taken at the end of a long bike tour which rocked. My favorite part is the outline of the guidebook in Pete's pocket- either that or it's his bony ass.)



Croatia, the second trip, on the walls of Dubrovnik, June 2008

(Back in Croatia, first time we tried this shot with dueling hats (with brims). It made it a little tricky, but by this point we're pros so it was no big deal. I'm back with right arm to torso now. I think I finally settled on that side as my preferred "Power Base" for these pictures.)







And finally our swan song, Paris, July, 2008

(It started to rain right before we shot this. It's as if Paris, and to a larger extent Europe, knew we were saying goodbye...)


And there it is. Until I hold Pete in my arms again, and there's a camera around to document it.

Until we meet again Pete Henning.

Woe is Me

Shockey's a Saint?

Pete's leaving Germany for good tomorrow?

My world is collapsing.

Paris Pics

As promised.

Some good shots in there.

Paris July 2008

And the next post on the docket, ugh, is currently too depressing to think about.

Back to Paris

Pete, Gwen and I spent last weekend in Paris. It was basically our last "hurrah" in terms of traveling with Pete in Europe - that jerk is moving away to Washington D.C. next week to start his Rheumatology fellowship, and in the process is breaking my heart. No more Pete? Why live? I'm pissed.

Anyway, we sure are going to miss Pete, but more on that in a later post. I wanted to knock out a quick recap of this Paris trip and then come back later with the bulk of the pics, once I have a chance to tune them and load them into a web album.

Anyway, this was my FOURTH trip to the city of lights, and the place never gets old. I love how it's only three to four hours away by car. We drove this time, figuring that with two people it's about a 50/50 decision to take the train versus driving a car, but the convenience of the train wins out. With three, however, the car is the way to go to save a little money. Talk about tolls though - for a roughly 260 mile drive to Paris, there are 26 Euros in tolls one way! (It's moves like that by the French that had Pete and I looking for some serious mime ass to kick as retribution. Mission accomplished.)

(As a side note, totally unrelated, I hate how the phrase "Mission Accomplished" is now forever ruined because of George Bush in a flight suit. Dumb.)

We arrived Friday night, parked on the outskirts of the city, took the metro into town, found our hotel, and had a few drinks. By the way, driving toward Paris is no big deal. Driving in Paris, however, is a different story. After our GPS went nuts and after several "Big Ben Parliament Kids" type experiences in under-construction roundabouts, I think we all recommend taking the train.

On Saturday we got up and headed to one of the Parisian museums (apparently they have a few). We went to the D'orsay museum first to look at some impressionist art (lots of Van Gogh, Monet, Stuparich, etc) and also some impressive sculpture, our tour of which included an impressive piece of Hercules in which he showed off his prowess with a bow and arrow and also his taint. Even Pete was impressed. Pics to follow in a future post.

Anyway good museum. Afterward we strolled around town, having a drink here, a crepe there, taking in the sights. Paris really does rock. We had dinner on the Montre Marte, a neighborhood north of the Seine up on a hill overlooking the city.

On Sunday Pete hired a walking guide right out of the Ric Steve's guide book which turned out to be a good move. The guy, named Arnauld, met us at 9 am and took us around for about four hours, explaining all sorts of stuff about the city, including the history of Paris and France. We went to an old chapel which used to store the thorny crown of Christ apparently, and had beautiful stained glass windows. Then we walked through various neighborhoods, seeing off the beaten path sites with full narration courtesy of our guide. After the tour we had lunch with this guy, who was a neat dude. He was thin and gesticulated a lot, and was clearly French, but seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. He speaks six languages. We talked about Franco-American relations, their hatred of our president, our hatred of their surrender mentality, etc. Even more fun was watching the guy wince in horror when Pete or I tried to pronounce any French word and ended up absolutely butchering it. That said, we had a good conversation, and the guy had a good sense of humor. Sometimes it seems like a lot of work to hire guides, but it always seems to pay off. Mental note for future trips.

After departing our guide, we made off toward the Eiffel Tower. By then it was starting to rain, but we snapped a few pics, like the one below, and then headed out.

Summer Movies

We are firmly entrenched in summertime again and that can only mean one thing - blockbuster season at the movies. For the most part, this doesn't mean a whole lot to me, and really hasn't since I was 18 or so. It's no secret that I'm a movie snob, and certainly the summer blockbuster is the antithesis of movie snobbery as I see it. Summer is the time of Michael Bay, Jerry Bruckheimer and monster explosions, and the time when most decent, hard-working movie snobs like myself go into hiding to await the Oscar Season's fall crop of dark, introspective films that normally feature things like moody hard-luck types staring out of a car window as they contemplate life for the fifteenth straight scene where nothing really happens. Yes, I prefer those films.

There is a corollary, however, to my standard take on the summer blockbuster season which, as it turns out, is also kind of an Achilles Heel of my movie snobbery.

The Comic Book Movie.

I could take or leave a thousand different action movies, cop movies, buddy cop movies, cops and robber movies, or other such generic schlock that typically make up the menu at the Summer Movie feast, but put a comic book character into a movie, tell me about it, and my eyebrows instantly pick up. I grew up loving comic books - still have several boxes full at the Stup compound as a matter of fact - and as a result there's some pre-teen/teenage part of my brain that still thirsts for that sort of entertainment. (Plus my head is still so full of useless knowledge from those things, I'd better be into them or all that is going to waste.) I like comic books, and I like Super Heroes, and even all these years later I still want to be pumped up by them. I want their movies to succeed. To me, their success, the character's appearance in a "good" movie, validates my childhood in some stupid way.

I will add that this notion applies to the entire genre of science fiction and to a smaller extent fantasy fiction as well. I like both genres, and though I think the typical film in those genres is mostly junk, the times when something really good happens along (Lord or the Rings, Matrix, etc.) simply blow me away. Those are my favorite trips to the movies.

One downside to this is that I become really invested when one of my childhood "favorites" gets put onto screen. I end up watching more like a nervous mother than an ardent fan. I sit in the theater, kneading my hands together, thinking please be good, please be good, and so on. There's two ways this can end. Spider-Man, as an example, got it right. Tobey Maguire did a bang-up job, I thought the tone was perfect, and I got chills a couple of times. Mission accomplished - at the end I wanted to shake Sam Raimi's (director) hand like a proud father would with the coach who helped his son really shine out there. Transformers, on the other hand, got it wrong. Very wrong. By the end of that movie, all I really wanted to do was punch Michael Bay in the face for degrading my favorite sentient alien machines of all time. I hate that guy like a father hates the idiot coach who benches or misplays his clearly talented son. So there it is. The stakes are higher when I really liked the character growing up. Right now, these are my children - and you better treat them right. (On a side note, I can't wait to be an overbearing and borderline obstrusive presence at every one of my children's sporting events!)


OK, got that out of the way. On to the meat of the post, which is basically just me commenting on the Summer movies I've seen so far (two of which happen to involve famous comic book characters).


Iron Man



I didn't really know what to expect going into this one. When I heard they were making it, I just sort of shrugged. Neat. I liked Iron Man. Went through a clear and distinct Iron Man phase in my comic life as a matter of fact. In my memory, Tony Stark was kind of like the Marvel version of Batman. Not a superhero by physical power, but dependent on technology. Only Tony Stark was an alcoholic in the comic books, with many a storyline centering on the "all this power but what about the demons within" sort of thing. Good comic, though.

But even despite my history with the character, I was still rather oblivious to whole film until it arrived. Then I heard it was getting over 90% on rottentomatoes.com. Over 90 percent! I thought that was impossible or the movie had to be Citizen Kane or something to achieve that high a score. I quickly became intrigued. If "most people" liked this comic book movie, then what would I think?

Well I'll you what I thought. I dragged Gwendolyn and we both really liked it. I thought Robert Downey Jr. was amazing. What a presence! Anyway, I thought the whole thing was really good. A nice modern take on the classic Iron Man story. The movie was funny - and at several parts laugh out loud funny. Most of that was all Downey Junior, but hey it was directed by Jon Favreau of Swinger's directorial fame so I'll give him some credit too.

The only thing I was underwhelmed with was the final battle. Could have been better, but still not bad. Overall a big thumbs up.

Verdict: Thumbs Up

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull



Oh sweet God no. George Lucas resurrecting classic characters and material, dusting if off, and giving it another go 20 years later? Where have I seen that go horribly wrong before? (Let's face it, the further out from those first two Star Wars prequels we get, the worse the whole thing seems. I thought I was past this, but clearly I'm not. Looks like it's back to therapy. Let's just move on.)

I won't belabor this one. I hated this movie. It was awful on just about every level, and it had no reason to be. I've ranted about it already (in a different forum), but as time goes by my two biggest disappointments remain the following:

-Harrison Ford mailing it in. It's like he wasn't even there. Sleepwalking through scenes, babbling his lines. It was just bad. At least in Temple of Doom, a movie I don't otherwise really care for, you still had Harrison Ford being Harrison Ford. The movie was silly, but there still some top notch scenes in there courtesy of Harrison Ford delivering the goods and bringing his A-game like you know he can. Not this time, though. Very disappointing.

-Steven Spielberg. Ugh. How could you Steven? I feel like I have two sons, one good-for-nothing troublemaker (George Lucas), and one sweet little angel who is one of the best kids in the world (Spielberg). And now I've gone and found out that it was Steven, not George as I had suspected, who wrecked the car (even though George was a passenger in the car). Sure George put Steven up to it, and this is the sort of thing you'd expect from George - you know breaking stuff and ruining things - but not my sweet little Stevie. This one hurts. Steven, you're better than this. Now go to your room and think about what you've done.

Verdict: Big Thumbs down

The Incredible Hulk




Here's the first thing to realize - I'm a Hulk fan. I'm not going to apologize for it. I like it when he gets big and green and starts laying the wood. I've heard that some people don't like it when he gets angry - but I do. I get totally pumped by it, in fact. Here's another thing to realize - I LIKED the first Hulk movie. That's right. Ang Lee's Hulk. Liked it. Maybe even really liked it. (I realize I'm one of like eight people nationwide who have this opinion, but the good news is that my boy George Mount is another one of those eight and if I'm not mistaken we saw it together in the theater and hi-fived on average once every three minutes, and once every ten seconds while Hulk was schooling those Hulk Dogs.) Sure it sort of derailed near the end, but I still think it was sweet.

(I just checked rotten tomatoes again, and actually the original Hulk sits at a 61% on the tomato meter, much higher than I thought it would have. Weird)

But what about this new Hulk? Loved it - that's what. I like Ed Norton to begin with, so that's a plus, and I really liked his cerebral Bruce Banner. The action scenes were solid, and this Hulk did a really good job of saluting the comic book and former TV show by fitting in all sorts of classic homages and doing it in a way that was actually pretty cool and stylish. The Hulk's moves in his big fights were straight out of the comic book. And, just like the first go around, I get pumped when Hulk gets mad and starts schooling peeps. And further still, unlike Iron Man, which still might be the overall superior movie, the big fight at the end was pretty solid. No complaints here.

Here's my quick take on who played the characters better between the two films:

Bruce Banner - Ed Norton (current Hulk)

Betty Ross - Um, Jennifer Connelly (original) (no contest here, not that Liv Tyler was bad - actually she was pretty solid - but dude it's Jennifer Connelly...)

General Ross - Sam Elliott (original) (no contest)

Hulk CGI - This one

Special Merit Award - Hulk Dogs (They rule. Well, until they run into the Hulk).

Final Verdict: HULK SMASH!


Hancock



Interesting little picture here and I'm not going to spend much time on it. Here's my take: It started out strong, I really liked where it was heading, and then I thought it derailed about half way through. Will Smith was good. Jason Bateman was really good. Charlize Theron was meh. I wasn't a huge fan of the generic super powers in the film - Will Smith is essentially like a drunken Superman with a 'tude. Anyway, I would still say it's worth a viewing. Not as good as Hulk or Iron Man - not even close for me - but certainly better than Indiana Jones. (If you haven't seen the new Indiana Jones yet, then simply tell yourself it's still a trilogy and this was all just a bad dream. Trust me.)

Verdict: Thumbs middle, trying to go up

Croatia Pics at Last

First, a milestone.

As of 30 June, 2008, I had exactly ONE year left in the military. That's it! As of now, it's more like 51 weeks. Let the countdown begin.

I've been busy the last two weeks. As a penalty for my early June vacations, I got blasted with call in the latter part of June through this weekend. I did a week of the wards - a busy week averaging 12-15 patients and constant turnover - and then followed it up with four straight nights over the holiday weekend. Boo. Luckily things trim down a little in terms of call after tonight (my last of the four). But man that was rough. The older I get, the more I hate night call. It's a young man's sport.


OK, I got a bunch of Croatia pics uploaded. Looking back on the pics was fun - man we had a blast. Something else I noticed? Eryn really, really out-jackassed me in these photos. Normally I take pride in being the resident jackass on trip photos. Well, E, hat's off - you schooled me this time out. At least I took the stupid game, which thankfully is not recorded. Maybe on Eryn's camera I out-jackassed him. We'll see when he posts his pics, I guess.

Until then, enjoy!

Croatia 2008

Great Expectations

I find that it's always tough to get going on this thing after a lot has just happened. There is simply too much expectation to document all the fun properly and entirely. The expectations are my own more than anyone else's, of course, but that fact doesn't stop me from creating a large mental obstacle that needs to be overcome before I can even sit down and just get going on a simple blog post.

The irony is that the whole process reminds me of work. At work, I don't mind seeing the patients (most patients that is), but rather it's the lengthy and laborious documenting of the encounter afterwards that I've really come to hate. Similarly, I sure as hell enjoy going ON the vacations, visiting with friends and family, and traveling Europe, and rocking out to Priest, and watching summer movies, etc; it's just the documenting of the experience that I have come to lament. (And yet of course still expect of myself.)

It's hard to say how many times I've sat down to get going on a post only to stop and say to hell with it. It happens a lot, actually. Such is the way of blogs I guess.

And I would probably just stop doing it actually (I mean who needs more administrative "paper work" in their life?), except that every once in a while I like flipping back through the old posts and seeing what I was doing back in the old days, what I was thinking about back in those days, etc. I wish I had something like this through high school and college, now that I think about it, because I find it's harder and harder to remember details from those days as the years go on, and I'm of course a sucker for nostalgia. That said, I can't really imagine actually reading anything I would have written in high school or college without reddening embarrassment. (I certainly wouldn't talk about anything as immature as Transformers, Spider Man, or ninjas in THIS day and age. No, of course not.)

So I guess I keep doing it for the diary effect more than anything. Plus I get giddy when I think about a potential child of mine reading this thing in their 20's, and seeing what I was saying about shizzle back in 2006, or whatever.

So that's where I sit in general with this blog. OK, enough justification. Onto the actual post.

Here are the recent big events in my life:

Early June: Went to Croatia for about 8 days with Gwen, Pete, Mallory (sis), and Eryn.

Following that: Eryn stuck around for another week. Highlights from that week included a fair amount of viewing Euro Soccer from the Euro Cup 2008, a Judas (Effin) Priest concert in Luxembourg, and a quick shimmy up to Amsterdam.

On top of all that, Gwen and I have been taking in the occasional movie and watching some good stuff on the DVD player to boot.


Regarding Croatia, ain't no way I'm doing a full recap. The trip was awesome and I'll leave it at that. I will mention that similar to last year's vacation, one of the highlights was the Adriatic cliff jumping. We ratcheted it up a level this year, seeking out higher and crazier cliffs, mostly on Pete's lead. Anyway, I got a real charge out of some of our highest jumps, which we estimated were in the 50-60 foot range. (A year from now, we'll be telling people 150 feet of course). There comes a real adrenaline rush with looking over a height, contemplating rationally what you're about to do, and then just pulling the trigger, followed by the harsh slap of the water. What a kick!

Other highlights from Croatia including spending time with my sister, and together touring our "Motherland" as Prince and Princess of the famous house of Stuparich. Dubrovnik, a walled city, was amazing. We toured several islands, some national parks, and absorbed the local culture. I ate a lot of seafood. We also got to watch Croatia play soccer in Croatia, while we were in Zadar, which was neat because as everyone knows the Euros are NUTS regarding soccer. (During this cup alone, I've seen the Croats win while IN Croatia, the Dutch win while in Amsterdam, and of course the Germans win while IN Germany.)

Most of the Croatia pictures are still being assembled (they were taken on no less than four cameras for eight straight days - that's a lot of pics), and I'll try and post 'em up in time as they roll out with a choice selection or two here today. I know everyone just wants to see the pics anyway.


After Croatia, Eryn, Pete, a buddy from work (Tony), and I headed up to Luxembourg to check out the one and only Judas Priest, my favorite metal band which I've resurrected in my life here a few months back. I listened to Priest a lot in high school and then only intermittently until recently. Turns out they're still alive and kicking and Rob Halford, the lead singer, is one of my all time favorites.

The show was a blast. Priest is getting up there in age, of course, having gotten their start in the 1970's. So it wasn't exactly what I'd call an "impressive" group of men who rolled out on stage that night. That said, once the music kicked it didn't matter how old and hard livin' they looked, how balding they were, or how much their leather sagged off of skinny limbs. I'm proud to say they can still rock hard with a purpose. Rob himself was a sight to behold. He's older now, there's no mistaking that. No longer the lithe, young, almost pixie-like "hellion" who so entranced me in high school, he now resembles something more like an older, heavier, slower, Hell's Angel type. I commented to Pete at the show that if you put a hat full of pins on him and stuck him in our waiting room, he'd fit in with every other Vietnam-looking veteran that's in there. He can still hit the occasional high note, though he's clearly lost a step - I'll admit that much. Overall, the show was still great and yet really made me wish I had seen them in 1990 right after Painkiller came out.

I was impressed with the song selection as well. Priest has more than 12 studio albums, and lots of classics in the genre, so I was definitely curious to see what they would play. And here is the set list from what I recall: (This is not in order)

Song (Album)

Painkiller (Painkiller)
Hell Patrol (Painkiller)
Between the Hammer and the Anvil (Painkiller)
Leather Rebel (Painkiller)
Sinner (Sin after Sin)
Hell Bent for Leather (Hell Bent for Leather)
The Green Manalishi (Hell Bent for Leather)
Metal Gods (British Steel)
Breakin' The Law (British Steel)
Electric Eye (Screaming for Vengeance)
You Got Another Thing Coming (Screaming for Vengeance)
Devil's Child (Screaming for Vengeance)
Rock Hard, Ride Free (Defenders of the Faith)
Eat Me Alive (Defenders of the Faith)
Angel (Angel of Retribution)


They also played two or three songs off of their brand new concept album, Nostradamus. Again, I was pleased at the selection. I think the best songs at the show were "Rock Hard, Ride Free" and "Metal Gods".

Anyway, since exactly three people who read this thing probably like Priest, I'll stop there.

And now this post was just interrupted by a long phone call and I lost my train of thought.

Post over. (Pics to follow another day.)