Beautiful music (XIII)

I'm a big fan of Franz Liszt's music, and the video below is his piece La campanella. While being a great piece to listen to, it's equally (if not more) fascinating to watch, just to see the amazing theatrics that the pianist must employ just to perform the piece. Liszt was no lightweight, for damn sure.

David Cronenberg

This morning I got my first glimpse of the trailer for David Cronenberg's latest film, A Dangerous Method, and I dare say, it looks to harken back to Cronenberg's earlier-career themes: making his audiences uncomfortable in their seat, though not (at least from the trailer) from his trademark "body horror" but more to the unnerving nature of the plot. And after this 2007 mainstream release Eastern Promises (which I think many Cronenberg fans saw as a sellout), I think many such fans will be relieved to see the filmmaker return to his roots . . . if, in fact, that is the case of A Dangerous Method. For all we know, it could be just as mainstream as Eastern Promises, but time will tell on that front.

I have to confess, David Cronenberg was something of an acquired taste for me. It wasn't until after I'd seen his more mainstream films, like Eastern Promises and A History of Violence, that I became familiar with Cronenberg's style of filmmaking—and to be frank, I wasn't expecting what I saw. My first real foray into Cronenberg's "body horror" genre was with Naked Lunch, and while I knew about the giant talking bugs beforehand, I didn't expect them to unnerve me the way they did. After that, I watched Videodrome . . . and all I can say about my first viewing is, "Holy hell!" It's one thing to see gill slits randomly appear on a human body in the midst of a hallucination; it's a whole other ballgame to see James Woods inserting and removing full-blown objects (like a gun) from said gill slits, almost like he was putting it into his pocket. After that came a viewing of Dead Ringers (which Nora refers to as "that terrible Jeremy Irons movie"), which at the time was enough to make me quit Cronenberg's old-school films cold turkey.

But then a strange thing happened.

For Christmas 2008, my future mother-in-law gave me a copy of Naked Lunch on DVD as a gift, and after re-watching it, I found I had a much greater appreciation of the film than I did on first viewing. Yes, the giant talking bugs were still bizarre, unsettling, and somewhat gross, but I nevertheless gained a certain respect for the creativity and genius behind the inception of this film (which was actually an adaptation from a controversial beat novel). Having gained a certain admiration for Naked Lunch, I then rewatched both Videodrome and Dead Ringers, and found an equitable admiration for both films, as well as a respect for Cronenberg's style of filmmaking. In fact, what draws me to Dead Ringers now is the great tragedy that befalls the two main characters—the identical twins who lose their way, grow apart, and only reconnect through their mutual drugged-out downfall. And I'll also go on record to say that Jeremy Irons was robbed big time of an Oscar nomination (and win!) for Dead Ringers.

Having acquired the taste of Cronenberg through several of his trademark films, that should not suggest, however, that I love all his films. I still find Crash unwatchable (not to be confused with the 2005 Best Picture winner, which I thought was a masterpiece), and I was very disappointed with eXistenZ, because I thought the so-called twist at the end cheapened the whole movie. His remake of The Fly I was somewhat indifferent to, though I will say that Jeff Goldblum really proved his acting chops in that film. I once saw The Dead Zone a long, long time ago, but I don't remember how I felt about it (though I read the Stephen King book beforehand, and loved it). I have yet to see some of his more well-known early works, too, like Scanners and The Brood, both of which I believe were in his body horror camp.

Anyway, how did I get off on this long tangent? Oh yes, I was talking about the trailer for A Dangerous Method. Well, hopefully I'll get to see Cronenberg's latest release this year (though I'll likely be watching it solo), and I'd be very interested to see if he returns to his roots of making an unnerving movie that only certain audiences will enjoy and appreciate—and stomach. Until then . . . long live the new flesh!

Reflections on 15 years

This past weekend, I had the opportunity to partake in my 15-year high school class reunion, and I must say, it was a fantastic experience!

For a number of years, I've remained friends with a handful of former classmates, and naturally have fallen out of touch with many others. But through the magic of Facebook (sarcasm not intended, even though the term is often loaded with it), I've been able to reconnect with a lot of former classmates, and this past Saturday afforded me the opportunity to do so in person.

The reunion was held at Appalachian Brewing Company (more popularly known as "ABC") in Harrisburg, PA, and for the better part of the evening, we had the upstairs to ourselves (even though what looked like a wedding reception was being held in the next room). For three hours, I worked the room like I rarely do, talking and catching up with many old friends and classmates, essentially getting to know them all over again—though as adults, not as middle or high school students.

What struck me as amazing about this reunion was that all the things that made high school, well, high school, were conspicuously absent. Gone were the cliques, the arrogance, the snottiness, and all the associated doucebaggery that makes high school so childish. That night, we simply related to each other as human beings, and it made the associations so much more refreshing. As one person noted, 15 years was a good enough wait-time after graduation to hold this, because five years would have been too soon, 10 years would have been on the fence, but 15 years was just right.

Out of my graduating class of 127 (give or take), I'd say maybe a quarter showed up. Naturally I was saddened that so many people I looked forward to seeing didn't make it, but hopefully they'll attend in the future. But I'm nevertheless grateful to have had the opportunity to catch up with old friends, and I thank the organizer for making this reunion happen.

UDA Class of 1996
(Photo by Jer Strausser, used with his wife's permission)

RIP Grandpa Hamme

A few days before I began blogging again (close to a month ago now), my grandfather passed away. It was a long way down for him, because he had been increasingly suffering from dementia since my grandmother died. Prior to his funeral, I last saw him at the end of August 2008, and for 90% of the visit, I'm not sure he even know who I was. Towards the end of the visit, though, I saw something in his eyes that suggested something clicked in his brain, a connection was made. And if he didn't recognize me finally, he at least knew that I was somebody very near and dear to him (I hate admitting this, but I was always his and my grandmother's favorite grandchild).

His passing saddened me greatly, for many reasons. Not the least of which is, he deserved better. Both he and my grandmother (who died in 2003) deserved to exit this world better than they did (both lingered for quite some time before they died).

And if there's one thing I wish I could have done with my grandfather again before he died, it was for the two of us to go on one more walk. When I was a child and would visit them, he and I would always go on long walks around their neighborhood. And that's the one thing I wish we could have done once more—to go on a walk with my grandfather.

To his memory, I'd like to post this Frank Sinatra jingle. For whatever reason, it seems fitting.

Rest in peace, Grandpa. I miss both you and Grandma very much.

A most unusual start to July

So July got off to an unusual start, all things considered. It began like any other month, and the original plans had been quite simple: the first full week would be just another week (only one workday shorter because of 4th of July), and Nora and I planned to celebrate our three-year dating anniversary on the 6th. But on Tuesday, July 5, things took an unexpected turn.

For close to a week beforehand, I had been having various abdominal pains. I didn't quite know what was causing them, though I theorized (and you'll forgive me for being graphic going forward) that I might be constipated. It didn't help that I'd eaten a lot of crap since Friday, July 1: a catered dinner at our friends Ashley and Billy's wedding rehearsal, drinks and lots of fatty appetizers later that same evening, lunch at a Front Royal pizzeria the next day (though I had a meatball sandwich rather than pizza), another catered dinner at Ashley and Billy's wedding—and for our denouement, chili half-smokes and cheese fries at Nationals Park on Monday. And for my second denouement, two Georgetown Cupcakes on Tuesday, July 5, around lunchtime.

This led to some pretty hefty abdominal cramping on Tuesday right after lunch (though that morning I woke up feeling a tiny bit nauseous, which passed in relatively short order)—enough to make me consider skipping a doctor appointment I'd scheduled for later that week and instead opting right for the emergency room.

So I left work early and drove to the Reston ER, where they ran some tests and told me I had pancreatitis, which is basically inflammation of the pancreas. A possible cause mentioned was gallstones, which meant that my gallbladder might have to be removed. After they consulted with my primary care doctor, I was transferred to Inova Alexandria for hospitalization and observation.

Suffice it to say, I was rather nervous, because the last time I had been a hospital patient was when I was nine years old (bike accident), and I wasn't keen on the idea of having a body part removed, even a redundant one like the gallbladder.

Nora and I arrived at Inova Alexandria around 9:00 that evening, and I was up in my hospital room maybe an hour later. I was informed that I might have an ultrasound overnight, and that a doctor would speak to me in the morning about my test results. I went to bed around 11:00, and the rest of the night was not your typical night: at 1:30 am, I was awakened by a nurse who asked about my diet and informed me that an ultrasound would take place in another hour; at 2:30 am, I was awakened again to be taken downstairs for my ultrasound, which lasted until close to 4:00 am; at 5:30, I was awakened to have blood drawn, and sometime between 7:30 and 8:00 on July 6, I woke up to start the day.

My breakfast consisted of a full liquid diet—hot chicken broth, Jell-O, and cranberry juice. The IV I had been hooked up to since the night before kept me nice and hydrated, though it had two uncomfortable side effects: 1) it increased my blood pressure a bit more than I liked, and 2) I was visiting the men's room every 10 minutes—and carrying with me the IV hookup on wheels. I liked to use the analogy that it was like constantly walking the dog . . . though a dog that only went where it wanted to go.

I nervously waited throughout the morning for the doctor to come and speak to me, and he came shortly after lunch. He went over my test results, though I wasn't as comforted as I'd hoped to be, primarily because tests didn't find a cause for my pancreatitis. The ultrasound showed no gallstones, which itself was good news (because it meant that no body parts needed removing), but it didn't bring us any closer to finding the cause. Though various pancreatic enzymes were currently down to more normal levels after being highly elevated upon admission to the Reston ER, which was good news.

After talking at length with my doctor, the prevailing theory was this: even though gallstones didn't show up on the ultrasound, it was possible that I had some beforehand that passed from my system before coming to the ER; these gallstones could in turn could have caused a blockage in my pancreas, which would have caused the inflammation. The treatment was simply that the inflammation had to run its course, but to help it along, I'd have to adhere to a low-fat diet for a while (or at least after I returned to eating solid food). The doctor wanted me to stay one more night for observation, and if I showed progress (or at least didn't worsen), I could be released the following day.

Nora arrived at the hospital shortly after my visit with the doctor, and with July 6 being our three-year anniversary, we got to celebrate not with candles and wine but with two distinctly different hospital meals: pork, gravy, cooked potatoes, and steamed broccoli for Nora; chicken broth, Jell-O, and cranberry juice for me. Not my ideal celebration, but it did the trick. :) I got a new roommate that day, too: a very nice gentleman from Virginia Beach (I think his name was Bill) who had an equally nice family (his wife and adult daughter, who looked remarkably like a co-worker). I also had a visitor: Will, who came by late in the day bearing the gift of ginger ale.

By Thursday, my abdomen was still somewhat sore, but hadn't worsened any. According to the doctor, I would be feeling residual abdominal pain until the inflammation went away completely. He used the analogy of a sprained ankle—that it would still smart for a few days, even though the ankle was healing. With that in mind, the doctor was comfortable with the possibility of me going home that day. Which was fine with me, because going home is always a great feeling. (Plus, I had not one but two wailing patients near my room who were causing trouble with the nurses.) To test the waters of wellness, my doctor upped my diet from pure liquid to some possible solid foods. I was given cream of wheat at breakfast, and I think it was lunch that they went the full monty and allowed me to have pasta with red sauce, accompanied by cooked asparagus. My abdomen reacted well on all occasions, and by 6:30 that night, I was officially discharged from the hospital.

I was very happy to be home (and also to have the IV hookup removed from my hand!), and the first order of business was a nice, long shower. In all fairness, I probably didn't smell too good from not showering for two days. ;) But I've been eating a lot more fruits and veggies since then, have dropped about six or seven pounds (the liquid diet probably had a lot to do with that), and generally feel well. Once in a while my abdomen might protest slightly if I eat something naughty, but overall the pains have subsided, which is a huge relief.

Like I said, an unexpected way to start July.

Borders is closing

This is truly a sad day, because I first heard the news this morning on the radio that my favorite bookstore, Borders, is closing its doors for good.

I've spent many a good day at Borders browsing through their aisles, looking at books, movies, and music. My favorite Borders of all time was at 18th and L in Northwest DC, near where I used to work. Almost every day from late 2000 to spring of 2002, I would venture over to that Borders on my lunch break, walk down the stairs to the basement section, and browse through the Stephen King section of books and then make my way over to the classical music CDs, walking my fingers through cases of Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Wagner, and Chopin. I even had one or two dates at that store, back in my courtship days.

But that Borders closed for good recently when the company announced it was closing many of its stores as a cost-cutting measure. The last time I went into that particular Borders was in late August of 2008. I had just taken a trip to Ben's Chili Bowl and was on walkabout through downtown DC, visiting several of my old haunts—this Borders included. And it saddens me to think that a place that once brought me such joy and peace is no more.

My second favorite Borders has to be the one in Pentagon City, which was within walking distance of Riverhouse. This Borders, while not as fancy as the one on 18th and L, served its purpose well, and I fondly remember the days when that particular outlet was much bigger (it used to encompass a large amount of retail space before being downsized). Other favorites included the Borders in Woodbridge and Springfield, but the most rockin' Borders had to be the three-story Borders at White Flint Mall. (Three stories? How could it not be awesome?)

If asked why I prefer Borders to Barnes & Noble, I honestly couldn't tell you. There are certain outlets of Barnes & Noble that I hold near and dear to me as well, but overall, Borders had a more concrete place in my heart, and I will dearly miss this bookstore when it closes up for good.

Thank you for the memories, Borders. I'll miss you much!

Beautiful music (XII)

I've always enjoyed the music from To Kill a Mockingbird.

Happy 4th of July!

Happy 4th of July, everyone! Today Nora and I will be celebrating by going to the Nats game—hopefully we'll see them reach .500 again. Come to think of it, today might be a good day to let Teddy win, too! Not quite sure where we'll see the fireworks, though that'll likely be a late-day decision. (Getting to see the fireworks from the Riverhouse roof kinda spoiled me.)

Congratulations, Ashley & Billy!

DVD vs. Blu-ray, from one who went to the other side

So this past Christmas, I did something that I once swore I'd never do: I went Blu, even after all the years I bitched about the format and refused to embrace Blu-ray over DVD.

It actually wasn't an intentional transition, because on a whim, Nora and I bought a widescreen TV the Saturday after Black Friday (somehow still snagging a Black Friday price), and I learned very quickly that a standard-def DVD player isn't going to give the same results on a 720p HDTV. So for Christmas, Nora bought me a Blu-ray player . . . and I have to confess, the Blu-ray experience so far has been pretty good. It took a little while for me to adjust and to learn the breakdown of standard-def vs. high-def, but it's actually very simple:

• Standard-def TV = standard-def disc player
• High-def TV = high-def disc player
• High-def TV combined with a standard-def player = a very large bridge to gap

The thing I had the hardest time adjusting to was the fact that Blu-ray players operate sort of like computers—i.e., they require an internet connection to download software/firmware updates. DVD players (and as I understand it, HD-DVD players before they lost the format war) were mere appliances that didn't require internet connections to download software. In my opinion, the appliance motif was better, because the biggest troubles for me have come when the Blu-ray player downloaded a firmware update that ended up causing more problems than fixing/preventing them (a problem, I understand, that isn't too uncommon in the world of electronics).

My movie purchases have largely been Blu-ray discs since getting the player, though I still get DVDs if a Blu-ray isn't available. And in either case, I'm satisfied with the results on the Blu-ray player, because it upconverts my DVDs pretty well—provided, of course, that it's a decently-produced DVD. Because if it's a crappy DVD release that the studio just phoned in, that's gonna show up tenfold on an HD setup.

I have not gone on a bender of replacing all my DVDs with Blu-rays (I made that decision long ago), but will occasionally upgrade if the DVD doesn't upconvert well, or if it glitches pretty seriously in the Blu-ray player (some DVDs do that, actually!). So far, the upgrades from DVD to Blu-ray have been minimal, and I'm content with that. And for the Blu-ray movies that I own, so far I'm pretty pleased with the results. Apocalypse Now simply looks amazing on Blu-ray, and Collateral shows a vibrant and rich color scheme in HD.

All the same . . .

I feel kinda like a hypocrite, in spite of enjoying the Blu-ray experience, because DVD is still a medium that works, and works well. And it still angers me that there continues to be this forced transition by the industry to move from DVD to Blu-ray. Nowhere is this more apparent than BestBuy, where most stores have given Blu-ray the dominant amount of shelf space over DVDs—an unnecessary move, in my opinion, because even though Blu-ray has seen in increase in market saturation, there's still gonna be a large market segment that won't go high-def, either out of preference or affordability. (And don't get me started on the built-in obsolescence of Blu-ray and DVD in favor of digital downloads.)

Okay, now that I've vented, let me just reiterate that both formats work well, but my recommendation is to utilize only what your setup requires—e.g., you should only consider going Blu if you have an HDTV. It would be nice, I feel, if DVD and Blu-ray could peacefully co-exist, but time will obviously tell there. In the meanwhile, I'll still continue to buy movies in both formats.