Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.
Left foot, right foot. Repeat.
Smile, nod, accept defeat. Repeat.
Wake up, accept disappointment, go to sleep. Repeat.
Persevere. Eventually, with enough stubborness and never-give-up-itude, opportunity and change will break through.
Right?
Of course I’m not taking it. But damn, why’s that got to happen this week? I’ve got too much going on.
The Clearing was a special, special experience. It’s funny; I knew it was special throughout the process. I could feel that it wasn’t just another show. But since closing the show yesterday I’ve started to realize just how special it truly was. The cast bonded as well as any I’ve been a part of, the performances touched people in many different ways, and European characters from four centuries ago found a way to make sense in 2013 Tuscaloosa, Alabama.
Robert Preston taught me so much about myself once I let him, and he serves as a beautiful warning against taking the safest path.
But I can’t call it life-changing unless I choose to change my life with what I learned, right?
My dad still denies it.
Says that it was determined well in advance; that it came from another source; that he wasn’t even a big fan (because of the Chapel Hill years); that my mom was more involved in the decision than he was.
But Michael Jordan won his first NBA championship on June 12th, 1991. Eight days later I was born and in addition to being named Michael was given the initials MJ.
So Pops can deny whatever he wants for as long as he wants - but I was named after the greatest basketball player of all time.
Who turns fifty today.
With that in mind, I decided to tribute my namesake in the two best ways I knew how today - by playing basketball, and by watching Space Jam.
It was a great way to spend an afternoon, and though I can’t dunk from the foul line, I did recreate his eyes-closed free throw against the Denver Nuggets, even if it was on the second try.
The coolest part of the day, though, might have been before we even started playing. I was lacing up my Jordans,
which I bought to play intramurals a few years ago and haven’t worn in ages, and two of my buddies walked over and saw what I was wearing.
“Dude, I love the Jordans,” the first one said. “Those look badass.”
“Jordans?” the second guy said. “I wish I had a pair.”
And so a simple conversation that almost certainly happened tens of thousands of times in the 90s and early 00s was repeated at least once more today, as Jordan hit the half-century mark (he did that 39 times in his career, too: just not quite in the same way).
That conversation, simple as it was, was surely a much better tribute to MJ’s legacy than our horrific play on the court ever could have been - I’m not sure 50 points were scored the whole day, let alone by one guy.
On the other hand, though, the guy wearing the Jordans won.
So happy birthday, MJ. If you ever get the urge to make good on your Hall of Fame speech and make a comeback to the NBA at 50, ridiculous as it sounds,
just do it.
“breathe in your favorite color, and breathe out the black.”
i give this advice to people all the time. there are moments in my life where it all just get to be too much. i don’t think that life means to weigh me or anyone else down, but it does sometimes. i get caught up in the darkness—in the…
Beautiful.
I really hope my girlfriend doesn’t read this until after she sees the “new” Spiderman movie. G (and anyone else who hasn’t watched it yet), if you’re reading this, stop. Go watch the movie. Then come back.
…
Okay, I think we’re clear. I saw the movie Tuesday night, and though I don’t really like Andrew Garfield as a human being (he’s dating Emma Stone and no man deserves a woman that perfect), I had heard way too many positive things from the people who watched the midnight premier to be anything but excited. This was going to be the reboot the series needed. This was going to be the third best action movie of the summer (not bad, in a summer with The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises). This was going to have gratuitous shots of Emma Stone in short skirts.
….so, what happened? Did everybody else see a different movie than I did? Because people: I hate to break it to you, but they already made this movie ten years ago.
Yes, Andrew Garfield is a better Spiderman than Tobey Maguire - in part because he looks the part more (much more scrawny and awkward pre-bite), and in part because his first script is more true to Spidey than the 2002 version (more of the quippy sarcastic comments as he fights his bad guys). And yes, Emma Stone is a better everything than anyone else. Can she please be in the rest of the movies?*
But this movie is not a reboot. It’s a repeat. And if Sony had their way, it wouldn’t have even been that.
See, Sony originally wrote this script as Spiderman 4 for the same actors and director as the first 3. They saw the script (Spidey goes back to high school) and bailed; leaving Sony with two options: Allow the Spiderman movie rights to defer back to Marvel Studios, or make another movie. Soon. So they recast (and recast very well, by the way) and took away the cumbersome “4,” electing instead to pull a do-over. This was probably smarter anyway, as anyone who saw Spiderman 3 was going to be VERY reluctant to watch a fourth installment, but it wasn’t the original plan.
So, to summarize: Sony basically restarted the movie franchise, used the same basic plot points as the original movie (and some from the sequel: remember Doc Ock’s underwater headquarters? Hm.) 10 years ago, and said “Hey. Younger kids like Spiderman anyway. They don’t remember that movie. And this way Marvel can’t have him back. Ha.”
So here we go. Spiderman again. It’s a great movie - like it was a decade ago but with better CGI and a better Stan Lee cameo - that focuses mostly on the awkward teen romance between Peter and Gwen (not MJ. this tells me they plan to later introduce an MJ to compete for Spidey’s heart). Spiderman is a fun character; he’s one of the douchiest superheros you’ll ever see, and Garfield portrays that wonderfully while still managing to keep himself likable somehow - probably because he’s just so darn cute.
But before you go talking about how “amazing” and “groundbreaking” this movie is - just go watch the 2002 version. I know I will.
*Note: I’m not just talking about Spiderman here.
Saw Brave yesterday morning.
First, I should say that I saw La Luna, Pixar’s newest theatrical short. If you don’t care at all about seeing Brave (which would be silly), you should still go just to see La Luna. It’s fantastic - in my opinion, as good as any other short they’ve done.
But then I saw Brave, and once again Pixar comes through for all ages, though the older generation probably shouldn’t expect an instant classic like Toy Story or Finding Nemo. Merida is Pixar’s first female protagonist and the movie is Pixar’s first fairy tale. Also, it’s the first movie in 25 years for which Pixar completely rewrote their animation system, and the first full-length movie in the US to use Dolby’s new sound system (which, unfortunately, you can only hear in 14 theaters nationwide), Atmos.
Anyway, it got me thinking about the Pixaramid and where Brave ranks as well as the list overall. I think there are five levels of Pixar, with each level containing movies that are of similar quality. Obviously, all of Pixar is quality - of the 12 movies I’ve seen (Cars 2 the exception), I’d want to own 11 of them.
The single biggest factor in determining the movie’s tier is watchability: in other words, if you asked me which movie I’d want to watch right now, movies of similar tiers would be hard to choose between, but a higher tier movie would win over a lower tier almost every time. Thus, for your consideration:
Tier 1: (GOAT): Toy Story forever. I’m not sure any movie can really match this one. Amazing characters with development and change over time, fantastic storyline, perfect comic relief and balance between kids’ humor and adult humor.
Tier 2: (Instant Classics):Wall-E, Finding Nemo, The Incredibles, Toy Story 3 Wall-E did an amazing job of creating a character that was completely relatable and lovable to kids of all ages without the use of any dialogue at all. Finding Nemo has one of the best storylines of any Pixar movie, with unexpected twists the whole way, two different stories going on at once, and laughs every minute in a movie that also make you cry. The Incredibles is a different take on the life of a superhero and has what every superhero movie truly needs: a great villain. Toy Story 3 is the perfect end to one of the best trilogies of our generation and possibly the best animated trilogy of all time.
Tier 3 (Must-Have DVDs): Up, Brave, Monsters Inc Up was a movie that shocked me in its quality after I heard that a kids’ movie would center around a grumpy old man; Brave is a more serious movie with a deeper message that everyone in the audience gets; Monsters Inc was the success after the Toy Story franchise that let you know Pixar was for real.*
Tier 4 (Great movie but no need to buy unless collecting the set): Toy Story 2, Ratatouille, Cars Toy Story 2 is the weakest of its franchise, but still a great movie - especially as sequels go; Ratatouille was good when I saw it but I haven’t seen it since; Cars was funny but I felt no need to watch the sequel (I will at some point).
Tier 5 (The Toy Story Hangover): A Bug’s Life Much better than I remembered after watching it again last night, but let’s be honest - nobody picks A Bug’s Life unless they have to. I hope Cars 2 doesn’t end up on this tier.**
*Monsters University, the “prequel” to Monsters Inc, is scheduled to release on June 21st, 2013. If I don’t see the midnight premiere for my birthday I’mma be pissed.
**Interestingly enough, if it does I don’t have to change the title of the tier at all: Cars 2 would just be suffering from the Toy Story 3 Best Picture Oscar Nomination. This is probably a bad omen.
By last Wednesday morning, G and I were no longer just in the same place geographically. We were both aching for an experience; one that was ours and ours alone - not wanting to retrace my past footsteps anymore, but to do something that was new for both of us. We were ready for an adventure.
We just weren’t ready for the one we got.
The day started as well as any day can - Breakfast Burritos from Saguaro’s. If you’ve ever been to Moe’s, you know they make huge burritos. The breakfast burritos from Saguaro’s are at least that size or bigger, and they’re one of my top 3 all time breakfasts. This is a massive compliment from someone who loves breakfast as much as I do.
Anyway, G’s a wimp and the burrito was too spicy for her, so I stopped and got a big bottle of water for her on the way to Lake Poway. One bottle of water. For both of us. Foreshadowing.
See, we were going to Potato Chip Rock, and I googled it and found that it was on Mt. Woodson Trail, which is right next to Lake Poway. When we got there it took about 10 minutes for me to even find a map that could tell us where we needed to go, and we finally started on the Poway trail at about 10:15.
Unless you like hiking I don’t know how you can get to Potato Chip Rock. It’s almost a mile just to get to Mt. Woodson trail, which is then 2.9 miles to Potato Chip Rock. 2.9 miles up steep climbs, sharp cutbacks, and magnificent views. You gain 2300 feet in those 3 miles to a final elevation of 2855 feet. And it took us an hour and a half of solid hiking just to get to the top.
I can only remember one time we stopped longer than the length of time it takes to take a picture, and it was because G dropped our water bottle off a cliff and I had to climb down to save it.
I was so tired, but I obviously couldn’t show it in front of G, so I decided to make jokes and try to play it off like it wasn’t that bad. If I’d had it my way, though, we’d have just stopped at the top and waited for a search helicopter to find us. Wouldn’t have taken too long, I don’t think.
I’m glad we didn’t stop though - thank God for my pride - because when we got home, we only had about an hour and 15 minutes to shower, get changed, and get to the pier in San Diego to catch the 4:00 ferry to Coronado. G’s a girl, so we got to the pier in an hour and 20 minutes - parking and getting out of our car just in time to watch the 4:00 ferry leave the dock, making us wait an extra hour.
When we finally did make it to the “island,” we walked all the way across it - slightly more than a mile, which isn’t fun when you’re dressed up and have already hiked 7.5-8 on the day - to get to dinner at a mexican place called Miguel’s, where we had a wonderful dinner with amazing margaritas and better conversation. Originally the plan was to get Cold Stone after, but we were so full and decided to walk on the beach next to the Hotel del Coronado instead.
Well. I decided. The margs hit Gia pretty hard, and I had to drag her, literally kicking and screaming, onto the beach. But I had a goal - I had to get her in the Pacific Ocean before she left! - and I accomplished that goal, even if it was just her feet. We also got some pretty beautiful pictures of the sunset before getting a sketchy cab ride back to the ferry so we could head back to reality and away from this town right out of the 50s. By then it was dark, and unfortunately the old woman taking our picture couldn’t keep the camera still, so we don’t have good proof how beautiful the San Diego skyline is lit up. But it’s hard to forget.
Coronado is one of the most romantic places I’ve ever been. I think that the town is beautiful and I’m so glad to have been able to walk through it, even though I was exhausted at the time.
Potato Chip Rock is one of the least rewarding hikes I can remember: you can’t see the actual rock until about 2 minutes before you arrive, so you have no idea how far away you are. And the view is fantastic from the very first step you take down at Lake Poway, but still: about halfway through, you start trying to remember a time when you turned a corner and a big hill wasn’t the first thing you saw. But it’s so worth it. It’s one of the coolest things that I’ve done in San Diego, and the picture of G and I is one of the best souvenirs you can get for free.
To spend a day being in both of those places, with a ferry ride in between, cost Gia and I the money we spend on dinner plus $17 total for our ferry tickets. We also took that cab on Coronado, but you really don’t have to, especially if you haven’t just done PCR.
The second most beautiful part of the day was how affordable it was. I wouldn’t trade anything for last Wednesday. Nothing at all. For the same cost as dinner and a movie in Tuscaloosa, we got an old man telling me that Gia is way too beautiful for me (true), a young man telling me I had very pretty eyes (also true), and an old woman telling Gia that - and I’m quoting directly - Kate Middleton had nothing on her (true and hilarious). Along with a million other memories that I won’t share - because some things you don’t want the whole internet to know.
And that was the lesson from Wednesday. There are some things that two people experience that they want to share with everyone they know and everyone they don’t know, too. There are some things that deserve to have photo evidence and their own blogs and tweets. There are things you want to brag about.
But the moments that mean the most are the ones that you want to keep to yourself.
And the most beautiful part of the day was how much of it was full of those moments.
Last Sunday night my sister asked a favor of me: Could I go to the airport the next morning and pick up her friend who was coming home from overseas?
What I wanted to say was no, I don’t know your friend and I’m not your errand boy. I have other things to do and you’ll have to find someone else. Unfortunately, I had no other things to do. So I couldn’t really say that.
So Monday morning I went to the airport around 10:45 or 11, and the damned flight was delayed. I couldn’t park and this Heather girl didn’t have a working cell phone (she’d been living overseas), so I couldn’t wait somewhere for her to call me. I had to circle the airport over and over and over and wait until I saw Heather, who I’ve never met and would only recognize by a sign saying “Michael Vine.”
Over. And over. And over.
And then - no big deal, nonchalant, totally casual - there’s G, standing with her bags on the side of the road, smiling and holding up a sign that says “Michael Vine” and the next thing I know I’ve parked diagonally in the pickup lane and am causing traffic jams that I really still don’t care about a week later because are you kidding me? It’s G. I will stop hugging her when I damn well please and you can deal with it.
So I get her back to the apartment and get her luggage inside, and then we go to lunch with my sister at Bud’s Louisiana Cafe. This place should really be on my buck-eat list, because for a LA cafe that’s just south of the other LA, it’s surprisingly accurate and good. Is the crawfish etouffee as good as that of Jax in New Orleans? Of course not. But it represents Louisiana well, especially from 2000 miles away.
Lunch was followed by a trip to show Gia the beauty of Soledad Mountain and La Jolla in general (if you haven’t read my post about them… there’s pretty much nothing I can do about it), with dinner at Islands, a good local chain of burger restaurants that reminds me of a SoCal version of Mugshots, but with burgers that aren’t as good.
When we got done with dinner, we came back to the apartment to a couple beers and The Lion King, and I generally just don’t think that life can get better than that. You can have your clubs. You can have your drunken parties. I’ll take The Lion King with great company and good beer. Every time.
Unfortunately, I had work Tuesday afternoon, and when I got back to the apartment afterward, G was too terrified to do much because she was watching “Insidious,” so we finished the movie, and then she got to experience In N Out and, later, Sushi Deli for the first time. In N Out is a really good fast food burger place - really simple menu, really good cheap burgers. We spent a combined 5 bucks, maybe. Delicious and unhealthy.
Sushi was also fantastic - I’ve never had better sushi than San Diego sushi, and unless I go to Japan I’m not sure I ever will. Both places are deserving of a spot on any San Diego buck-eat list, and it was great to let G cross them off hers.
We talked about going out on the town, but decided to leave that until I’m actually 21 and it’s a weekend - maybe I can bribe her out here again before then end of the summer. At any rate, we needed the extra sleep for Wednesday.
We just didn’t know how badly we needed it.
1. I did run out of gas in the middle of San Diego rush hour traffic, in the left lane, on the way to pick up my sister from work, setting off a string of events that included parallel parking without power brakes or steering, walking 2 miles to get gas, pushing a car up a hill, and starting said car as it was rolling down said hill in Neutral. But was it my fault?
2. Yes.
….
On Thursday, G and I went to Belmont Park around lunchtime, and spent the whole afternoon there. We had a very decent lunch that we overpaid grossly for at a place called The Wave House - if you’re in the Mission Bay area, I actually recommend it. We overpaid because of the drinks we bought, not because the prices are unreasonable - where they have a wave machine that people can surf on. We got to watch people surf, play “Who Got the Better Deal?” and feel the sand between our toes: it’s an outdoor restaurant on the beach. Seriously, go.
Belmont Park is a kind of permanent fair plus a real roller coaster, The Giant Dipper. The coaster was built in 1925 and is one of only two original oceanfront coasters still operating on the West Coast. There’s also laser tag, ice cream, a ropes course, and other typical fair attractions, such as Down the Clown - a game where you get 10 baseballs to throw and try to knock down as many 10 inch clowns as you can from 15 feet away. The more you knock down, the bigger your prize. G wanted a bear, which required 6 clowns. I got 7.
Only took me thirty baseballs.
After grabbing some ice cream (G stole the second half of mine, and made me eat the second half of hers, because hers was too cold or something), we headed back to the car to pick up my sister from work. We’d been driving on E all day, so I knew I had to find a gas station, but first I wanted to make sure I knew how to get to Kira’s office. Once I did that, I was not thinking of a gas station anymore - just that I was late and caught in San Diego rush hour traffic.
Next thing I know, I’m stuck at a red light right next to the apartment with the car unwilling to start and lots of angry San Diego drivers having to deal with the traffic jam. It reminded me of a situation a few months back with some friends in Tuscaloosa. Stuck in the left lane at a stoplight, busy road, rush hour. The difference?
In 25 minutes stuck on the road in SD, one person stopped to see if everything was alright. In 25 minutes stuck in Tuscaloosa, fistfuls of strangers stopped and asked if they could help. I love San Diego, and I can see myself living here someday, but there’s no question that there’s a difference in the people here. Southerners are just nicer: not just nicer than Californians, nicer than other people. More willing to help a stranger. Less consumed in their own lives - or maybe just more cognizant of the fact that staying in your own bubble all the time isn’t healthy. I hope that when I move out of the South (which I will), I remember to take it with me. I hope I remember that it doesn’t cost anything to make a stranger’s day sometimes.
Anyway, you know the rest. About two full hours after coming to a stop, we got the car running again, and G and I still made it to Sunset Cliffs 10 minutes before the sun went down.
Never would I have planned her last day to include crossing a busy highway on foot to get to a sketchy gas station, but I’m sure glad it did - there’s something to be said about a person who can take a stressful situation in stride and keep you calm, make you laugh, keep things in perspective, and turn a potential disaster into a happy memory.
Something to be said indeed.
