The Fault In Our Stars- Reality Bites

     A funny thing happened to me on the way to the movies the other night, my girls wanted to see The Fault In Our Stars. John Green is the author of the book by the same name, and he’s a very young, liberal, hysterically funny author and blogger. My daughters have latched on to him as the Most Current Hip Thing, and I get it. He’s also a spot on storyteller with the sucky reality of cancer, and I wonder about the point of it.

The star-crossed lovers

Anyone with a pulse realizes that TFIOS is blazing box office numbers right now, and I just can’t figure it out. It’s grossed over 50 million bucks on a twelve million dollar tab to make, which is a pretty impressive return on studio investment.

The thing is, people, why pay to see what is all around you? I told my girls they could see it. I knew I would probably have objections to it, so I read the book before making any censorship decisions. (Note for those with ears to hear, always know what you are talking about before you insist your kids don’t see/buy/listen to something. )

So I read TFIOS, and bawled like a little girl. (Zero spoiler alert here, by the way. It’s a cancer movie, so of course important characters are going to croak, OK?) John Green wrote the book as an attempt to help people understand that cancer patients are not somehow “other” than the rest of us mortals, and that even young ones can have rich, full lives. To that, I tip my hat. The legions of friends that surrounded us when Chris was dying never gave me that ‘vibe’, he was treated with as much humanity as he ever was.

But how is it we are not awake to this? Why do we need to pay to be jarred into tears? As the movie progressed, I found myself watching my fellow movie-goers. Predictably, tissues came out during the more heartwrenching scenes. Shailene Woodley and Ansel Elgort  are completely adorable as the star crossed lovers, and when one of them dies, it brought the ladies next to me to full-blown sobs. Huh?

What around you are you not feeling?

On July 18th, it will have been four years since I lost my own Chris to cancer. For about the first two of those years, just about everything brought me to tears. I was a raw, walking radar for other people’s pain. I didn’t have to look to closely, sometimes I didn’t have to look at all, to find something worthy of tears. Divorce? Illness? Cruelty? Aging, ignored elders? Neglected children? Hunger in America, of all places? Wounding thoughtlessness to loved ones? New friends have even opened my eyes to how we mistreat other life forms- I never knew that elephants had family structures a lot like ours, for example, and grieve for years when their babies are shot for sport.

It seems to me that we are experiencing what I find to be kind of a disturbing trend. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I might call it ‘social media isolation’. It’s hard to hold someone’s hand when it’s wrapped around a screen, or typing on a keyboard. Texting interrupts everything, and the need to record everything for Facebook is everywhere. It’s ironic to me when we pay to see mind-boggling natural events on a big screen, and don’t strap on our hiking boots and go for a walk. And there is something deeply dismaying to me to see men and women weeping at a truly touching story, and leave those tears in a wadded up tissue at the theater door.

So what to do with all that energy? I find that simply showing up does a lot for me.  Get to a church, friends. Go to a woman’s shelter. Go to an animal sanctuary. Walk into a hospice and offer to mop the floor or make coffee. Go to an inner city AA meeting. Show up and let your heart be broken by reality. It’s much more satisfying than a movie.

Who will break your heart today?

Much love,

Victoria

On “Star Trek”, Cumberbabes and Other Cultural Gifts

“Cumberbabe”- Urban Dictionary.

Fans of the glorious actor, Benedict Cumberbatch, originally under the name “Cumberb*****”. The title of the fangirls was changed under the suggestion of Benedict himself, and so it became Cumberbabe.

It is simply killing me not to spoil “Star Trek Into Darkness” for you. I can’t even tell you how much I want word-bleed all over the page with reference after reference for all of us die-hard Trekkies out there. (And yes, beloved son of mine, it is “Trekkie”. Say “Trekker” again, and there may be blood.)

The Glorious Benedict Cumberbatch! Movie Idol for the Brainy!

Be still, my fan-grrling heart. Just look at that face!

My daughters and I have been swooning over the beautiful Benedict since we discovered him on the BBC version of Sherlock Holmes. 

Benedict has actually been a steadily working actor for over a dozen years, but “Sherlock” was his breakout role, and now “Star Trek” is breaking records everywhere. 

The girls and I are going to see it again tonight. The first time I saw it, I overheard a number of people in my vintage (that is to say 40plus) whispering about the sheer number of references director JJ Abrams gives us die hards to talk about. 

It’s just hilarious. Ever notice how much cultural energy is to be found in shared storytelling, especially if the storytelling is good? 

Even the corny ones like  “Good Night, John Boy,” (The Waltons) “Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!”(Lost in Space), or “Who loves ya, baby?” (Kojak) or “Mom always liked you best!” (Smothers Brothers) , “Yada, yada, yada’ (Seinfeld) Even “Jane, you ignorant slut!” ( Saturday Night Live) (Heheh, sorry about that one, I just loved Dan Akroyd as a kid).  

All of these completely dorky lines wormed their way into our cultural psyche to produce something that’s actually pretty funny. Remember calling out your friends’ stupidity with “Where’s the Beef?” Or, and this really dates me, acting pleased with a thumbs up and a long “Aaaay” like the Fonz? Oh, just the visual is hilarious. 

Well, I can’t resist. So, in the spirit of a little fun, I’m going to give you Trekkies who haven’t seen the movie yet, a little scavenger hunt. If you over-think these things, you might spoil the movie, but I doubt it unless you are a complete Star Trek nerd like me. So when you go, look for these things. 

Carol Marcus

What’s with the tribble? 

The things you can do with a fire hose! 

Christine Chapel

“I’m a doctor not a ________”

Lastly, those magnificent photon torpedos. 

Get thee to a theater, get a large popcorn and settle in. It’s a blast. Those of you who have been to a Star Con, leave me a note and tell me what I missed. You know who you are. 

Much love, 

Victoria

 

 

 

 

 

Victoria Alert: Regarding “The Call” With Halle Berry

I was going to have a lovely night here at Barnes and Noble with Rachael putting together a picture book of our recent cruise to the Eastern Caribbean. It was terrific! I have some great pictures for you guys to see of the magnificent boat and some wonderful, different places on the planet. Some of the simplest ones are the best. For example, ever notice how scary it is too look over the pier anywhere on Manhattan Island? Someone once told me you were only safe if you got a hepatitis shot before swimming! Contrast that to this:

Running with the “Silent Girl” pirate crew to see the turtles at Tortoise Cove

 

 

Ah! Go swim anywhere! From a pirate ship in Saint Thomas.

But that’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.

Those of you who have been with me for a while know that I’m contemplating going back to school for a doctorate. Abnormal neuroscience has held a fascination for me for years. I’ve been steeped in the ‘normal’ (Ha!) for decades. Now, I want to see if I can make a contribution toward catching the likes of Dylan Klebold or Adam Lanza.

I also like the fact that we are all pretty much in the same boat, as far as the hard cards we get dealt in life. Sure, I’ve had an unusually bad run, but if something traumatizing hasn’t happened to you, just wait a bit. Someone is going to abuse you, one of your addictions will get the better of you, or someone will die.

Here’s the good news, it’s doable.

Several columns ago I wrote about PTSD and an experience that I had that was essentially ‘retraumatizing.’  (“Jeff Mackleby…”) In a fascinating study of the etiology of PTSD stressors Julian D. Ford  describes education, reading ability, and a belief in ‘self-efficacy’ to have a tremendous impact on the lowering of ‘retraumatization’ among PTSD survivors.

 I think that’s pretty damn cool. 

In essence, if you read well, like school, and believe that you can help yourself and others, you can make a difference the the lives of others. I come out pretty strong in all those areas.

So here we go.

Halle Berry on the set of “The Call”.

 

Halle Berry and Abigail Breslin are simply terrific. They’re two of my favorite actresses, so I thought it would be a fun way to spend an evening with Rachael, followed by a trip to Barnes and Noble.

(SPOILER ALERT!) “The Call” is a story about how a 911 police officer responds to a lethal call. Berry plays the police officer in the 911 call center (The “Hive”) who receives the call of a teenager who is trying to avoid the hands of a home invader.

She doesn’t. She’s murdered in her little-girl bedroom, and the invader goes on about his business. Berry’s character hears everything, and is brutalized. (Some of you are getting a gut reaction right now. Good for you.)

Halle’s character is a decent human being, so is realistically depicted as being traumatized by this event.

Six months later, the assassin strikes again, and Berry’s protege  takes the call. Berry is now a trainer, and her newbie replacement can’t figure out what to do when Breslin’s character is abducted from a mall.

What follows is a tense cat and mouse game between the killer of the previous call, Berry and Breslin’s teenage character. Berry is exceptional and Breslin is really coming into her own.

It’s a tightly woven, edge of your seat tale, and very, very realistic. Breslin very nearly loses her life, as does Berry.  I had my eyes glued to the screen, and at one point found tears running down my face. What the heck?

Well, duh. I have three teenage girls. This could be any one of them. Probably has been one of yours, my precious reading audience. Why look at a story that sets your thoughts in such a negative direction?

So if your loss still gets to you, if you still feel the pinch of pain in your gut when you hear accounts of other people’s trauma, don’t go see “The Call.”

All the best, my forward looking friends.

Much love,

Victoria

 

 

 

 

Just Who the Heck Are You, Anyway? On Affleck, Clooney, Mendez and Argo

    So I just got back from the opening night of Argo with some friends. Ben Affleck and George Clooney produced the thing, and Affleck was the star. No spoiler alert, suffice it to say it was an edge-of-your-seat affair about a Latino CIA spook who was instrumental in the release of the hostages during the 1980 Iran hostage crisis.

English: Cover movie poster that was created by the CIA as part of their cover legend. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Go see this thing. Affleck has made a successful transition from man-candy actor to legitimate director, and perhaps, most astonishingly a patriot! In the liberal Hollywood establishment, this is amazing.

I love a good movie that makes you think. Lately, those of you who have been with me for a while, know that I’ve been ruminating a lot lately about people’s character. The “Chandler” posts, after I stopped bleeding, were actually pretty instructive. What kind of person do I want around me, anyway? Who are you?

In Argo, the “Tony Mendez” character kept reassuring these hostages ‘It’s what I do, and I’ve never left anyone behind.’ No one asked him to risk his life to be murdered by crazed Iranians, it was what he did. Over and over, he drilled the hostages in procedure, and persistence, and teeth-rattling bravery. It was what he did.

Recently, some very kind friends have made some comments to me about my persistence in the face of religious persecution by the state of Colorado. I don’t have the irrevocable hard copies in my hand, so I can’t get quite specific yet.  Suffice it to say the government of Colorado doesn’t like faith-based preschools, and did it’s very best to eradicate mine.

No. It’s what I do. No. I can’t stand a bully. No. I will NOT allow bullying in any form, even from the government. No. NO! The outcome of this battle was never assured. I could have lost just as easily as won.  I have found that character is not often influenced by win/lose selfish scenarios.  I WOULD NOT allow something that’s just wrong to happen, if I have any say in the matter. Even if I lost, I would lose with my side of the street clean, no regrets, nothing done differently.

Melanie Curtis, my business and life coach, is constantly encouraging me to a higher self, a better, more loving, more aware place to be. During the entire preschool ordeal, she helped me clarify why I was doing this, and how far I was willing to go. Would I, like Jefferson, pledge (work) lives, fortunes, and  sacred honor?

Hell, yes. It’s the principal of the thing, dammit. I have lost wages for nearly four months. My teachers didn’t get a raise. We couldn’t go to the annual teachers conference that I look forward to every year. My character and motivation was impugned at every opportunity by desk bound critics held hostage by their own anti- school choice, anti-family agendas. My teachers were subject to extreme, humiliating inspections and questioning that government based preschools simply never get.

No. I would rather lie down on a train track than give up what’s so important to me. During the whole ‘Chandler’ ordeal, I often heard the refrain “People change.” Actually, not so. It’s more like people are revealed. When the chips are down, when bravery, money, self-control, persistence, unselfishness, kindness or other hard things are required, you get to see what people are made of. I find if you frame it like that, I am actually thankful for some of the trials Jesus promises us. You really get a lot of clarity.

One of my companions tonight was someone who has proven herself to be in my  trusted inner circle. “Rebecca” has a serious, nagging, constant health issue. It prevents her from driving, and doing other activities of daily life.

Yet during the hardest part of Chris’s cancer ordeal, Rebecca’s  Godly character held like a steady, bright flame. She babysat my kids, cleaned my house, had her kids help steady mine, with never a single complaint or sigh of impatience. Rebecca is a gift. In a somewhat frail package, Rebecca has the character of a rock.

Some Christians say hard times are coming. I’m not the apocalyptic type, but these days, I wonder. Who would have thought I’d nearly be driven out of business because of my faith? I wonder.

I  do wonder. But I stand firm. With the help of God and my trusted countrymen, because it’s what we do.

Much love,

Victoria