Where is this generation's E.T.?

I babysat tonight (for a five year old who had the remarkable ability of transforming into a lunatic at precisely the stroke of bedtime), and other than the hour plus bedtime shenanigans, I had a lovely time. The reason? We watched the movie, E.T. When the parents first put it on before they left, I had my doubts. I had never watched E.T. with a younger child. Would it be too scary, too weird, too sad, too profanity laden (you'd be surprised). I kept expecting to have to dive across the room for the remote, slow-mo style, to stop the movie the second things got dicey. But then something remarkable happened. E.T. was indeed scary and weird and sad and a little profanity laden. But it was perfectly okay for the five year old I was with, because you know what, kids can handle a lot more than we think they can. They can handle scary and weird and sad and a little profanity laden if these things are done the right way.

Yet somehow children's movies have become these sanitized, squeaky clean, capital M message, cartoon cheerful things. When's the last time you watched a kid's flick and actually recognized a human trait in any of the characters? When's the last time you watched a movie aimed at younger viewers that was genuinely scary? Bet your reaction to that last question was, "harumph, well of course not, children's movies shouldn't be scary." Because that would have been mine. But you know what, kids like scary. They don't like slasher flick, zombie scary (and neither do I for that matter), but they like scientists storming Elliot's suburban house in spaceman looking suits scary. I understand wanting to protect kids, but it's one thing to shield your kid from the evening news and it's another to keep them in a bubble. It's like kids today are living in a styrofoam world. Sure there are no sharp edges that way and maybe they won't ever have nightmares or weird, irrational phobias, but aren't those things so much better than bland, boring styrofoam?

If making the choice for my future kids, I would take scary, weird E.T. any day over those shiny happy pod people Disney movies (and I say that despite my love for all things High School Musical, but really as much as I love Zac Efron, I would hate for my kids to grow up thinking these movies were classics). And you want to know why? Because kids act like real kids in E.T. They cuss on occasion and are mean to their siblings and lie to their parents. And if you're worried that the presence of these things in a movie means your kids will turn into hoodlums and eventually felons then you are weighing the importance of movies way to heavily in comparison to the importance of parenting. You want to know what else happens in E.T. other than some harmless childhood bad behavior? Big, wonderful, magical things happen, and these things are made even cooler and more magical because they happen in the context of an identifiable world where moms yell and dads are in Mexico with new girlfriends and teachers drone on and on about killing frogs. And the look on the kid's face tonight confirmed to me how meaningful it is for a kid, especially a young one, to watch a movie like that, a movie that challenges rather than coddles, that instigates imagination rather than suppressing it with heavy handed morality tales and messages. From what I saw, this boy did not suffer severe trauma from the few seconds where the adorable alien appeared to be dead or from any of the other myriad things that would shock a lot of parents. Instead he connected with what was happening on screen, which made that moment where all the kids take off on their bikes above the policemen all the more rewarding.

Which leaves me wondering why people seemed to have stopped making these kinds of movies. When I was a kid I had E.T., The Goonies, The Princess Bride, The Neverending Story, Labyrinth, The Witches all of these wonderfully twisted and dark movies that were nevertheless filled with optimism and kindness and magic. I seem to have made it to adulthood without severe mental scarring despite watching Inigo Montoya kill a man. I don't recall any post traumatic stress associated with multiple viewings of David Bowie as an evil, singing and dancing Goblin king. When I was little I regularly watched movies where terrifying things happened and people died or did bad things. And maybe this is a stretch, but in some ways I credit movies like that for the big, messy imagination I have. Books and stories make an imagination, but movies can sure help prod it along, as long as they're not mindless and vapid and stupid.



So at the moment I'm feeling a little distressed, because what do kids today have? Pixar movies are awesome. I'm not lumping them in here. But animation can only take a kid so far. Children need those live action movies that will stay with them forever, the way E.T. and The Princess Bride have stayed with me. Sure you can find these movies as an adult, but they'll always sort of be an empty shell that way. To watch a movie like E.T. as a child means that even as an adult some part of you will always remember it the way it was the first time you saw it, when you honestly believed that those scary adults would do harm to a poor, defenseless space creature, when you thought that given the right circumstance bikes could fly and friendships with aliens could be formed with just a little help from Reeses Pieces. Kids need those childhood movies, the ones that make them keep the lights on for a little while, the ones that make them peer out their blinds at night, wondering if maybe, just maybe, it could be real. Kids need to gasp in terror at rodents of unusual size and evil witches who congregate in hotels and turn children into mice. Even if it scares them, they're remarkably resilient.

I guess at the end of the day I feel lucky to have come of age in what seems to be a prime period for weird and crazy but remarkably true to life (at least in terms of the kids portrayed on screen) children's movies. But I am still bothered that not all kids growing up today have parents who will seek these kinds of films out. So maybe, all of us 80s kids can make a pact. While other families trek to the theater and pay 15 dollars a ticket to see mindless, candy coated, soul less, drivel, we can stay home, pull out the DVDs and introduce our children to the quirky, expansive worlds we grew up with. Maybe we'll have to spend a little extra time tucking them in or install a new night light, but our reward will be children with imaginations every bit as strange and beautiful as the movies that inspire them.

carrot sticks and oatmeal

I went on a walk tonight with my family around the Fan (for those of you not up on your Richmond lingo that's the name for the neighborhood in the city that I reside in). We do this every year on Christmas Eve to see the perty lights, especially the chic, fancy, clearly professionally designed ones on Monument Avenue (to be honest I'm kind of partial to giant blow up penguins or those humongous snow globes that actually blow snow). And tonight I saw something really wonderful. It wasn't the lights or the massive, dressed to the nines Christmas trees visible through windows. It wasn't even the fully decorated and lit up Cadillac that sits on the same street corner every year, bursting to the brim with festive stuffed animals. Nope it was near the end of our walk when we passed a house with two plates sitting on its front porch steps. I stopped walking and took a closer look. On one plate there were carrot sticks. And on another plate (or bowl really) there was a big heaping of oatmeal. It took me a moment, but only a moment, before I realized what this obviously was. Whoever lived in that house politely and considerately set out a midnight snack for Santa's reindeer. And for whatever reason, this completely thawed my sometimes over it heart.

Can you remember what it felt like the last time you put out snacks for Santa or his reindeer? I have a hard time. I know that I did this. I know that at one point in my childhood I believed with all of my heart that the big guy in the suit would munch on the cookies I so carefully set out (usually Oreos, the special Christmas kind covered in white chocolate), that he would quench his thirst with a tall glass of milk, and that he would bring carrots up to the roof for Prancer et. all (I never had the ingenious idea of putting the reindeer snacks outside so the reindeer could snack while Santa does his present thing). But somehow I've forgotten what it really felt like to believe so fervently in something I would never see, to trust so completely without the need for proof or logic (minus the one time I asked Santa for his signature to prove to my brother that he was real; needless to say he complied).

As an adult Christmas is wonderful. There are things you can enjoy as an adult you could never enjoy as a kid; spiked eggnog, Christmas morning mimosas-okay basically just anything alcohol related. But let's be honest for a moment. As wonderful as Christmas still is, as warm and fuzzy as it still can be, we lose something the moment we stop believing in the jolly fat guy. I think we all feel it. Even the cheeriest, seasonal sweater wearing, Christmas addict, if honest with themselves, would have to admit that something goes missing in our Christmases once we reach the age where we no longer believe, where we wake up in the morning and the only thing that's suspensful is what our parents got from our list, not whether Santa came or not. How could it not be different? For the better part of our childhoods, for one night, we get to believe, no questions asked, in magic. No matter how dull or prosaic the rest of our lives are, for one night every year we are privy to greatness, to extraordinary events. Seeing those plates on that porch tonight just forcefully reminded me of how beautiful that is, how beautiful it was, how all of those wonderful childhood things, optimism and hope and innocence all get concentrated into that one powerful, singular belief.

And as much as this blog may seem like a depressing note for Christmas Eve, it's not. I may not put out cookies or believe that the presents under my tree tomorrow will have been delivered via sled. But that doesn't mean Christmas has to lose all of its magic. It may be a more measured, more adult brand, but I still feel something when I look at a lit up Christmas tree in a darkened room. It's a bittersweet kind of hope, a more restrained type of optimism, and maybe, just maybe, if I think about those carrot sticks days of mine hard enough, there might still be a tiny sliver of belief.

Merry Christmas.

Super Duper Last Minute Gift Guide

So it's the night before Christmas Eve, you still have a full list of shopping ahead of you, and you're freaking out right? Or maybe not if you're one of those super productive people who finish their Christmas shopping in like March, but if you are like me and veer to the unproductive side, I have a list for you. In fact everything off this list you can get up until the moment you open presents. Like you can take your laptop with you to the tree on Christmas morning and order your gifts in mid-wrap, that's how super duper last minute this list is. And the best part; every single thing on this list will do genuine good. Let's face it, the economy sucks, the climate is teetering on the verge of chaos, there may or not not be killer, light allergic, cannibal zombies in our future (I really should not have watched I Am Legend the other night). But despite these things, we, as in us average individuals, those of us not receiving lump sums from the bailout, still have the ability, as corny or cliched as it sounds, to make a difference. So if you're stuck for ideas and running out of time or if the thought of going to the mall tomorrow makes you want to stick an ornament in your eye, then please consider one of the following. I suggest these various nonprofits and charitable causes because I have had at least some contact with them, whether it's because I have donated or they've been suggested by others or they're just a cause close to my heart. So here, officially, is the Super Duper Last Minute Gift Guide of 2008 (that is guaranteed to make you and your recipient all warm and fuzzy inside).

1) Operation USO Care Package-for $25 sponsor a care package that will go to a deployed US soldier

https://www.uso.org/donate/custom.aspx?id=565&

2) St Jude Children's Research Hospital - donate a sum of your choice online, peruse their gift catalog, order holiday tribute cards, visit your local Target store and buy special cards or wrapping paper with proceeds going to the hospital-no matter how you give to this cause, your gift will make an invaluable impact

http://shop.stjude.org/GiftCatalog/index.do

3) Cookies for Kid's Cancer - started by parents of a child with cancer in order to raise awareness and funds for pediatric cancer research, you can donate directly or order cookies with proceeds going directly to the cause-so you can do good and get something yummy in return

www.cookiesforkidscancer.org

4) Save the Children-a charity dedicated to helping children in the US and around the world, recommended by none other than Valentino Achak Deng, one of the Sudanese lost boys who spent years in refugee camps as a child and saw first hand which nonprofits did the most good

www.savethechildren.org

5) Pet Helpers-Charleston's local animal rescue and adoption shelter, you can make a one time contribution or for a larger amount, sponsor one of the shelter's pets for a year-this is even more necessary this year because so many people are giving up their animals to shelters because of the recession

www.pethelpers.org

6) World Wildlife Fund-adopt an endangered animal (and get a fuzzy stuffed version sent to you) or contribute to any of the huge number of worthwhile efforts this global nonprofit undertakes

http://www.worldwildlife.org/home.html

7) Lowcountry Food Bank or Central Virginia Food Bank (or any local foodbank around the country)-don't want to haul a bunch of food somewhere? no problem, go to one of these sites and you can virtually donate food-right now food bank are facing critical shortages around the nation, NO ONE should go hungry in the United States, not when there are people left who have even the smallest amount to give

http://www.cvfb.org/

http://www.lowcountryfoodbank.org/

8) South Carolina Aquarium- an awesome place to visit and an even more awesome place to give to-plus you can adopt a Loggerhead Sea Turtle!

http://www.scaquarium.org

9) Deoki Nandan Education Trust, Inc. -can definitely vouch for this one because my sister is the secretary-it was started by her friend and her friend's Indian husband and is aimed to bring education to poor children in rural India-I can not stress how valuable and necessary this kind of thing is in a country like India with areas that are so devastatingly poor

http://www.dnetindia.org/

So there you have it. I can not stress how important and valuable these nonprofits are and how much good your help would do. And trust me, this list is for me too, to remind myself that things are great and all, but they just can't compare to hope and compassion and empathy. So if you're rushed and stressed and think you might have a nervous breakdown if you here "Jingle Bell Rock" over a store's loudspeakers one more time, then consider staying in tomorrow and ordering the rest of your gifts from this list.

Goodnight now and Merry Christmas Eve :)

71 pages

Okay so forgive me now if this is going to come off as some sort of pretentious would-be writer moment, because believe me I still get a little red in the face if I even refer to myself as a writer because well, for whatever reason it's one of those professions where it's hard to be open about unless you're successful. It's not like exterminators only call themselves exterminators if they kill a certain amount of bugs per year, or accountants stop being accountants if they have a slow month. But saying out loud that you're a writer is just one of those things that carries with it a certain amount of self importance, whether it's merely perceived that way by others or if writers are just naturally self important species is really up to personal opinion. But in my good, less self conscious moments I can call myself a writer. Not because I get a regular income from it or because I think I'm the awesomest writer to ever write, but because well it's really my only skill. God did not give with both hands when I was born and I'm okay with that, because really, I think it would be exhausting to be one of those multi-talented people who can be a brain surgeon by day and a concert pianist by night. When would you sleep? But really the whole point of this blog was to announce that I have written 71 pages of a fiction thingy. I call it a fiction thingy because it's too long to be a short story and if I called it a novel then I would be pretentious. Novels in my opinion are not novels until they are read by others and possibly even published. Same goes for books. So for now it's just a long fiction thingy. And for whatever 71 pages struck me as a really long length. Not for any professional writer of course, but I've only ever written short stories which usually top out at around 20-25 pages. So to have written something that is 71 pages (and still in its early stages), makes me really happy. Whether it's crap or not at least it means I can stick with a character and a story for longer than what I've done in the past, and not get sick of them and kick them to the curb after the honeymoon period. So woo!

jump starting my mind grapes

So I realize that my last few blog posts have been a little, how should I say, weepy. Unfortunately weepiness is one of the known side effects of leaving a place like Charleston, that and a lot of navel gazing, melancholy, angst if you will. But I swear that from here on out you will find me in far better spirits, well at least until something new depresses me/angers me/brings out the angst ridden, emo kid in me again. But let's just hope that will not be for a long, long time. And in an effort to clear out my drama juices (apologies, that sounds gross), I thought I'd just go ahead and do a little conscious streaming, a jumble of random thoughts and moments, a sort of jump starting of the mind grapes (to borrow a phrase from Jack Donaghy). So here goes.

-The movie Clue was on tv today and I cannot tell you how obsessed I was with this film when I was little. I have no idea why, because I don't think I could have gotten even half of the jokes. I think I just really liked the part below where Tim Curry runs around like a maniac reenacting how the murders must have went down. Or maybe I just really loved the board game? But I was pleasantly surprised to find that unlike many of my favorite movies from childhood (anything featuring cinematic legend Jonathan Taylor Thomas springs to mind), Clue really stood the test of time. I mean how can a movie not be awesome when it features the brilliance that is Michael McKean (see Spinal Tap, For Your Consideration, Best in Show). Also Tim Curry is freaking hilarious, like so funny it's almost disappointing that not all of his roles have allowed him to show off what an amazing comedic talent he is. Plus there's murder, mystery, death by candlestick, singing telegrams. Really it's just all good, campy, ludicrous fun.


-I made the terrible mistake of walking by PetSmart on my way to Barnes and Noble today. And you know what happens at PetSmart on Saturdays? Poor, adorable puppies from shelters are put on display for the sole intent of breaking every single passerby's heart. Okay well maybe the point is for the poor, adorable puppies to find homes, but it just kills me. Not only were most of these dogs wearing doggie sweaters because of how cold it was but they all had their oh so sad "stories" written up on signs hanging on their cages. And of course every single story just makes you want to adopt every last one of these dogs and make it your sole purpose in life to prevent them from ever having to experience anything unpleasant or painful ever again. There were two beagle-y brothers named Fonzie and Howie and they just destroyed me with their sweetness and cuteness, not to mention they had the saddest story ever that I won't even share because it will break your heart. Let's just say it took a lot to pry myself away, and the second I have the means to take care of a dog I will go to PetSmart on a Saturday and rescue one of these poor little guys. It did make me very happy to see an "adopted" sign on one cage with a cute little boxerish mix, and it is my dearest hope that every single one of those dogs finds a home where they will be loved and pampered and spoiled to within an inch of their lives. And I wish only bad karma on their previous owners who should all be in jail.

-I'm watching Love Actually on tv right now, and no matter how many times I've seen it I can never get over Laura Linney or Emma Thompson. The giddy, hopeful look on Laura Linney's face when she first dances with her office crush, her resigned sorrow at the end, Emma Thompson's moment alone in the bedroom when she realizes her husband is involved on some level with another woman, and then the way she pulls herself together right before she faces her kids-these two women just blow me away with their performances. In a sprawling ensemble of very talented actors, they do so much with only a handful of scenes. Oh and random side note-hello January Jones aka Betty Draper from Mad Men! She's one of the American floozies in the bar in Wisconsin, and it is so weird to see her in this. She's doing that thing with her face, what is it, oh that's right, smiling. You see, it took me a second to place it because it is not an expression that Betty normally or ever wears.



-I'm in the last stages of the Great Flea War of 2008. Now that I'm not in the flea infested Charleston house, I feel like I have gained the upper hand. All that's left is to nurse my dozens of flea bites (which apparently NEVER stop itching) and wash every single thing I own. I am anxiously awaiting Monday when I will pick up my pashmina shawl from India that I was forced to get dry cleaned. I know this makes me very materialistic, but if anything happens to this shawl I will be devastated. Because in my mind, it cannot be replaced. Even in the unlikely event that I manage to make to the Kullu region of the Himalayas in India, even if I track down the exact shop, that shawl will be a reminder of that specific trip. My current shawl reminds me of the trip on which I bought it, and that is priceless. Not to mention that it is magic. Okay maybe it's just the wonder that is pashmina, but it might as well be magic because it is whispy, almost paper thin and every bit as warm as a down comforter. I heart it. It better survive or my war on fleas will wage forever. Also I had to wash my stuffed panda (my sleeping companion because yes, I never outgrew that aspect of childhood), and that was nerve wracking. I kept checking the washing machine, waiting to find a panda carnage, but panda remained intact and now he is super soft and gives off a lovely, fresh laundry scent. I sort of wish I had washed him sooner.

-I have created a nice cocoon of Charleston-ness around me. Since I've been home, the only t-shirts I've worn have been College of Charleston ones or Charleston restaurant ones. I have only drank (drunken, drunk? yes I am an English major, hold your applause) out of my Hominy Grill mug, I've put my shells and sand dollars out and I've propped up my Cooper River Bridge Run poster and gorgeous print from the Tidwell Gallery. I have a thick stack of Charleston Magazines and right next to my bed I have my Sak's Charleston snow globe. Maybe it's not the healthiest way to deal with my homesickness, but I don't care. I like my cocoon.

-I'm going to see Slumdog Millionaire tomorrow and I can't wait. For one it's supposed to be great. Also I have been fascinated with Indian culture since I went over there because it's so crazy and big and complex. But the thing that made me want to see it most was reading in a review that the main character scams tourists at the Taj Mahal as a kid. We were on the receiving ends of many of these scam attempts at the Taj Mahal and throughout India (and occasionally we were stupid enough to fall victim), and I am so excited to see this from the scammer's perspective. Because it is easy to forget that everyone has a story, and questions of morality aside, these kids scam because they live in tremendous poverty and have had to find creative ways to survive.

-Did anyone else choke up slightly during the last episode of Top Chef? Yes they laid on the holiday special thing a little thick (especially when this episode must have been filmed in early fall at the latest), but when all of the cheftestants helped Hosea and Rhadika out after their meat went bad, well it just seemed like a really genuine, human moment. I just like this season of Top Chef a lot because not one of these people seem despicable or cruel (unlike the season where Illan won). Maybe it makes for higher drama, but I always prefer reality shows where people are kind and decent. And this has nothing to do with kindness or decency, but I am obsessed with Fabio. Everything he says cracks me up because broken English=comedy gold. Between his rantings on "bullshit bacon" or his musings on his "evil" childhood and his grandma's discipline trick of making him stir polenta, well I hope he stays till the end just because everything that comes out of his mouth is freaking hilarious. And this isn't me being mean to foreign people, because I fully admit that when I lived in Paris I must have made many, many people laugh with my mangling of the French accent and language.



-I went to the eye doctor yesterday, and no matter how many times I do this, I always get a little flustered during parts of the exam. You know the part where they ask you to read the lowest line you can make out on the chart while covering each eye in turn? For whatever reason, I always feel like I can get this wrong, like it somehow reflects poorly on me if I can't read the last line of letters. Obviously this is completely absurd because the only thing that reflects negatively on is my vision which is the whole point of going to an eye doctor, but I always find myself debating out loud like I'm on a game show or something. Here's me. "Okay the first letter is a V, well no, wait, maybe an X. Yes, okay definitely an X. And umm, well I know the last letter on the right is definitely an O. There might be a P somewhere in the middle. And you know what, I think that first letter is a W. Is it too late to change?" What can I say, I'm a freak. Plus I hate the peripheral vision test because again I always feel like I'm stupid if I get it wrong, and I have a really hard time moving my eyes without moving my head and I just have issues. I can't stand the glaucoma drops because they make my eyes feel like someone put maple syrup in them. Although at least this year they changed the drops so they aren't yellow anymore. It used to freak me out so much after she put the drops in and I'd wipe my eyes because they always water and there would be neon yellow blotches on the tissue. So at least that was a positive thing about this year. But yeah, normal people can do things like go to the eye doctor and not worry they can somehow answer wrongly to the question "does this lens make it clearer?". But me, I bring awkwardness wherever I go, so I end up making my poor eye doctor switch back and forth like ten times while I intensely debate with myself whether A or B is better.

-Okay I feel better now, like my creativity is back on track and I can write about things other than how sad it has been to leave Charleston. Because I know angst gets old in a hurry.

-Oh there is one more thing. I want a hippopotamus for Christmas.