Tuesday, September 25, 2007

 
A couple movies, old and new:

3:10 to Yuma was excellent, as good a western as I've ever seen. Interesting plot, great acting, the works. Ebert's review is here.

And in a completely different vein, we rented Gojira, otherwise known in English as Godzilla. Gojira is the original 1954 Japanese film. A classic monster movie, fun one for the kids, the subtitles didn't bother them at all. I was delighted to see the superb Takashi Shimura from Seven Samurai and Ikiru fame in a nicely done suporting role.

I've taken to renting old movies for the kids and they love them all. It's easy to check the reviews and see which ones have stood the test of time. With Netflix and Blockbuster, you can easily rent nothing but four-star classics if you want. I thought we'd try a couple of the old monster movies just for fun: King Kong and The Creature from the Black Lagoon are next.

Should be fun.

Monday, September 24, 2007

 
The UAW just called a nationwide strike against GM. Earlier in the year, Toyota became the biggest car-maker in the world and is not unionized.

Sure, there are other factors, but how many people see the connection?

Have a look at this article about Toyota. These guys are serious. I own one of their cars, and you know what? It never breaks. It's got over 120,000 miles on it, and it's almost as tight as a new one. I drove it on a cross-country trip, 2000 miles one-way last year and didn't think twice about anything but tires. The word I got from an honest local mechanic is that if the Americans made their engines like Toyota—and most of the other Japanese makers—he'd be out of business. And he meant it as a compliment: Do regular maintenance and they're good for 300,000 miles without taking the heads off. The American ones? Not even close.

Now, I have all the confidence in the world that the Americans can compete, the question is will they be allowed to?

Friday, September 21, 2007

 
Connections I make with people are important to me.

I traded a couple emails with someone the other day. The person on the other end would have had no way of knowing how I was feeling from unrelated events and how heartened I was to recieve their last message. This morning, from something they wrote, I see that they got something good from me in the exchange.

And so, it helps me understand that in connection and compassion, we—people—feed each other.

 
A couple blogs I check almost everyday—everyday zazen and A Small Stone—capture certain moments and thoughts.

 
This morning, my irritated wife asked me to stop doing something and as it happened, an old habit from childhood—attention seeking, and the use of it as a control mechanism—popped up into view. After biting back my reaction, a brief talk about it, I was able to see what was going on: Using other people to fill an emptiness inside, and at that, having poor timing about it—in the middle of the kids getting ready for school.

As they say: Another growth opportunity.

It's funny how things go sometimes. I feel peaceful and calm about it, thankful that she brought it to my attention, thankful that I was given the insight that will help me make a change for the good of myself and the people in my life.

It's a good morning.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

 
Yesterday, a crystalline moment:

Fading sun, about an hour of daylight left, sun riding low above the trees. My broad-brimmed canvas hat shades my eyes as I recline in a chaise lounge by the road in front of the house. Rich golden light touches the high trees and road, painting early fall. Paused in my reading, I look out over the pond, water five feet down from a leak, low and cool in late afternoon shade. Except for a single large patch of sand opposite me, grey mud rings its perimeter, narrow on the steep slopes, wide in the shallows. Two urchins, my two, have dragged a small red and white cooler and a red wagon into the bare and slimy bottom on the other side and are picking golf balls of imprecisely known origin out of the muck. With mud flying, ernest chatter, turned unintelligibly into babbling from the hundred yards distance, narrates the adventure, the joy in which is palpable where I sit smiling in silence.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

 
Tiger is in the lead in another tournament going into Sunday, while Zach Johnson shot a 60 and set the course record. Amazing stuff, beautiful to watch.

Watching golf and tennis has been a nice escape in the last couple weeks. I'm finally feeling rested again after feeling pretty tired from traveling a number of times over a few weeks.

So, for around six months, tendonitis in my left elbow has put a stop to sports and a slowdown on yardwork. I finally went to a sports medicine practitioner and it looks like I'm in the pipe to get this healed up at last. I hope so. I really want to get back to working out somehow. My age and ability to heal are on my mind: The clock is ticking. I better get moving if I still want to get some things done.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

 
A nice retrospective writeup of 9/11 from the Right by Hanson, and an account of plain stupidity on the far, far, far, far, far, far, far Left, admittedly written by someone on the Right. But still...

I've enjoyed a number of articles from The New Republic of late and I think I mentioned that I'm trying to read a bit more from the Left, but I was surprised that today there was no mention of 9/11.

From time to time I go by The New Criterion, too, finding intelligent, very nicely written, and—as far as an outsider such as myself can see—informed opinion.

I haven't thought about 9/11 that much so far today. I guess I may stop and do that tonight. It would seem a worthwhile thing.

I keep having a lot of thought rolling around in my head in the mornings in the car on the way to work and by the time I get to sit and write, they're gone. It is what it is, I guess.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

 
I've always loved the elegant simplicity of tennis: Hit a ball back and forth over a net, the first one that misses loses the point. Of course, the scoring is a bit different from every other game I can think of, but I think that it importantly provides a rhythm that would be otherwise be missed completely.

I played and watched a lot of tennis in the early 80's and I can see how the game has changed. And although I really enjoy watching players like Federer and Henin, one thing that has made the game less interesting to watch is how similar the players' games are now. Twenty five years ago, the various top players had styles that were quite different from one another. For example, Borg played big looping strokes with heavy topspin from the baseline seldom coming to net, Connors used very flat spinless shots with constant agression, McEnroe was superb serve and volley with strokes that looked nothing like anyone else's, Vilas was heavy topspin, onhanded on both sides, Evert was steady baseline play, while Navratilova was super agressive serve and volley, Jaeger was slower baseline play with moon balls, Mandlikova was an all-court game, and on and on. Today, seems to be less difference in style of play, the main difference being that of execution, and sometimes, from a distance it's hard to tell exactly who's playing.

Another interesting point is that serve and volley tennis is almost gone. This link will search YouTube for "borg wimbledon". This link will search YouTube for "federer wimbledon". Both searches will return results from Wimbledon finals of the era. Have a look at the wear pattern on the court in Borg's time versus Federer's time. Nowadays, there's almost no wear near the service line because almost no one is playing serve and volley, even at Wimbledon.

Interesting how the game has changed.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

 
In traveling lately, I notice my mood is more volatile than when at home. I get lonelier, feel more isolated, feel more keenly the grief of past wrongs both given and received. While engaged in the very act of traveling—waiting or boarding whatever the machine is, be it bus, plane or train—staying in the moment is easier. It's the down times in the room away from home that are hard. In the way that traveling is the metaphor for spiritual quest, acknowledging my difficulties helps me become human.

One day, I hope to be able to stay centered as I move through life on my path.

 
I must say, I never thought of sacrificing a goat to fix an airplane. Guess I'm not a very good lateral thinker.

And this article on human-animal embryo research gives me an uneasy feeling. The potential horrors are all but unspeakable, at least in my mind.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

 
I understand how vague impressions of things aren't always accurate, but this story about "Rock stars more likely to die prematurely" makes me wonder who spent good money to figure this one out. It may be sad, but is it really a surprise? How many of us had party maniac friends who are no longer with us?

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