Place Eyes Here

Why the hell did I sign up for Tumblr again? What was I gonna do with it?

Maybe I’ll just use Tumblor as a dump for movie reviews from now on. Might as well use it for something.

We went to see Girl with a Dragon Tattoo last night. It was odd, since I just saw the original movie a week or so ago, and loved it. (For clarity, I’ll refer to them as Mark I and Mark II. For further clarity, this does not refer to anyone named Mark.)

In short: Mk I was better. But not by much.

Mk II was definitely a solid movie … I just don’t think Fincher has the patience to do a murder mystery. He whizzed past (or glossed over) some fairly important — albeit boring — plot points. If I wasn’t already familiar with the story, I would have been totally lost. Mk I’s pacing was smoother, more fluid, but not more exciting. Mk II had more style, but there was no sense of discovery as the characters unraveled the mystery.

Some of the changes were interesting, from a film-making perspective. The time line was tweaked very slightly. I think it was a good change, and I’m impressed that they thought to do it. The ending though … not sure what happened there. The ending of Mk I was left open, hinting at further adventures. Mk II’s ending went on for several additional minutes, and hit a fairly bleak note. It may have been truer to the book, but the bittersweet mood they were going for seemed out of place.

Some changes just sucked … in particular the climax between Lizbeth and Mr. Bad Guy. In Mk I she made a crucial decision; in Mk II, she was a spectator. Lame. And her backstory was cut almost entirely, perhaps to make room for the not-all-that-interesting-or-relevant new material at the end.

Oh, and Noomi and Rooney were equally hot, even though they screwed up Rooney’s eyebrows in Mk II.

I guess this is a good excuse to type words into Tumblr.

11.11.11! Omy and I got hitched. Here was the plan: drive up to Sedona mid-morning, relax a bit, set up moderate and tasteful decorations at the insanely perfect location next to Oak Creek. Begin ceremony at 4pm, relax and chat and toast champagne and nibble cake for a couple hours in the clearing by the gazebo as the creek babbles beautifully in the background, then head leisurely over to the restaurant for dinner.

Here’s what happened.

We left late, of course, but still in plenty of time. Omy and her kids were in her car, my brother, the dog, and the wedding cake were in mine. We had to make a stop to get clothes for Estevan, which cost us 20 minutes or so. But we were still leaving Phoenix before noon. The weather, which was making a mild threat of wind and rain that day, was instead pleasantly sunny. My brother and I stopped for gas just out of town, putting Omy about 15 minutes ahead of us.

I fired up Google Navigator, and noticed a red warning light I’d never seen before. Touching it showed me a warning a few miles ahead. Several miles of nearly stopped traffic. We found out later that a lettuce truck had overturned on the highway, blocking the right lane and clogging about ten miles of road. Navigator estimated the 90-minute trip would last about 3.5 hours. We hit the traffic soon, and inched along. Consulting the map, I saw what was, in theory, a shortcut that would take us past the vast majority of the back-up.

We’d gone about half a mile in the past thirty minutes. Up ahead, people were getting out of their cars and stretching.

I signaled and took the exit. In seconds we were traveling faster than the highway traffic.

In a few more seconds, the asphalt ended and we were driving on a dirt road.  Keep in mind my car is a light, sporty Celica, and has as much ground clearance as the average vacuum cleaner. But it was a smooth road.

Less than a mile later we were passing people going the opposite direction, waving frantically. One stopped me. “There’s no way through! You have to turn around!”

“Great! Okay, thanks!” I said, and continued onward. Most helpful people are dead wrong at least once.

Eventually the road ended, and I, following Navigator’s advice, ducked my car through a roughly car-sized hole in the scrubby desert trees. It was at that point that the “path” became composed of grapefruit-sized rocks, and Derek pointed out that this wasn’t really a good idea at all. But we’d gone a mile or so by now, and had passed so many cars on the highway, I felt obliged to press on.

The rocks ended, but the dirt was uneven in wildly undulating ways. We tilted 45°, then tilted 45° the other direction. We caught up to a brave driver ahead of us, who was in a black Hyundai sedan. He was helpful in navigating my low-profile tires around the terrain they were never designed for. My brother managed to silence his doubts for the most part, but he kept his legs clenched tightly the whole time.

At one point the road became more roadlike, and I could see the highway; even at our low sports-car-on-a-rough-dirt-road pace, we were flying past the traffic jam. Navigator said we were nearing the end of my dangerous, but genius, shortcut.

Then we came to the river.

It wasn’t a real river, this being Arizona, but it was a steep slope down into 100 yards or so of bowling ball-size boulders. The black sedan ahead of us stopped and questioned his sanity. Derek vocally questioned mine. Again.

Slowly, the sedan plunged down the slope into the riverbed, and I followed, somehow managing not to bottom out my car on a sharp boulder. We could see the road sign for the entrance back to the highway. Almost there….

Somehow … we made it. No damage to the car at all. Unfortunately … remember how the cake was riding with us? It didn’t enjoy the jostling at all. We didn’t learn that until later though.

Half a mile later we were past the scene of the accident. There was a lot of lettuce.

I stopped at a rest area. We were pretty hungry by now, and the snacks we’d packed were all in Omy’s car, so we waited for her, removing much of the time we’d gained from my wonderful shortcut. (Our officiant — officiator? — and photographer were still far behind Omy, so we couldn’t start without them anyway.) We burned about half an hour there … before Omy realized she had locked her keys in her car.

Fortunately, Arizona rest stops are great places to find people who know how to break into cars. We had a dozen or so people helping at one point. It only took an hour or so before one of them managed to flip the door lock with a long piece of metal.

Off we went. We made it. We were only ten minutes or so late for our own wedding.

There was a flurry of activity … unloading vehicles, introducing family members, setting up decorations. Omy began the dressing process, which apparently takes a while for girls on their wedding day. I threw on my tux, the kids got dressed, we went back to the clearing with the gazebo, and just as the light was starting to fade, Omy came down the stairs, looking hot.

Robin started the ceremony. Fortunately Stephan had found some electric lanterns; it got dark quickly down in the valley under the trees, in the shadow of the mountains. Kai read his poem/blessing, my mom belted out a song a capella.

I wasn’t really prepared for the emotional impact all of this would have on me. All these people traveled so far, just for us, for this. I’d avoided freaking out by imagining it wasn’t that big a deal; we were just having a ceremony to cement what we’d already decided, after all. But it was a big deal. We said our vows to each other, we exchanged rings, Robin closed the ceremony with a beautiful Sanskrit poem (I could see her breath in the light of the lantern at this point), and we kissed. And it was done.

Hugs happened, and we popped open the champagne. The cake was beautiful … only because Omy’s sister had done pastry surgery on it.

We did a cursory clean-up and left for the restaurant. In short: food was fantastic, they handled the large party quite well, but they couldn’t get Omy’s name on the reservation right even after three corrections, and I have a feeling they charged us almost double what they agreed on.

They served our cake too. It was amazing.

Definitely a most memorable day.

I went jogging the other night, here in downtown Salt Lake City. Alone. I picked paths at random, choosing well-landscaped lawns of public buildings over car dealerships. I’m in a strange city I’ve never visited; my feet had never before landed on those spots. And I entered some strange zone, the same mental state that made Paris so enjoyable for me. Maybe a combination of slight fear of an unknown place and curiosity of seeing new things? I become totally centered; my mind stops wandering. I just look, and listen, and feel where I am.

This state of mind is something I’ve only successfully found when I’m traveling alone. I wish I could get it at home, but familiarity seems to be the enemy here.

And lo,

On the 81st Day of the year 2011, did The Creater waketh up in a terrific mood. And he did say, “I think I’ll pick some dude at random and shine My good luck down upon him, that he may know I am Awesome.”

And so it was that the dude He picked liveth in Arizona, and was named Jerrod, and Divine Luck did shineth down upon him in the form of Ricardo. 

An old washer and dryer did sitteth upon Jerrod’s yard, where they had sat for two days since a new washer and new dryer arriveth. Jerrod knew not what to do with them, and was filled with despair. And so did Ricardo looketh upon Jerrod’s yard, and did see the old washer and old dryer, and did asketh unto Jerrod, “You no want? Ees okay I take?” And it was then that Jerrod knew that Divine Luck was shining upon him.

“How much you want both?” Ricardo did asketh unto him.

And then did Jerrod shruggeth his shoulders, for he knew not how much to ask.

“Fifty?” did spake Jerrod.

But Ricardo wailed and gnashed his teeth, and clutched his chest, and raised his face upward, for fifty was too much, and would leaveth him with no money for gas. “$30 ees okay?”

And then Jerrod furrowed his face, for he thought that was how haggling was done. He shruggeth again, and said “Okay.”

So Ricardo did giveth unto him a $50 bill, and did ask for a $20 bill in return, and Jerrod knew again that luck was shining upon him, for a $20 bill was unto his wallet, even though he never ever has cash on him.

And then did Jerrod and Ricardo rejoice, and did loadeth the old machines into Ricardo’s truck. And Jerrod kneweth at that moment that the day would be filled with Awesome.