Month: July 2010

MOVIE REVIEW: Toy Story 3

Who WERE those three heartless Rotten Tomatoes heartless critics who didn’t like Toy Story 3?


OK, let’s get my singular complaint out of the way. My wife and I both felt that the 3-D did not particularly enhance Toy Story 3, at least when we saw it at the Madison Theatre in Albany last week. I had not read Roger Ebert’s otherwise positive review of the film, which ends, “Just don’t get me started about the 3-D.”

That said, this may be my favorite of the three Toy Story movies, and we own the first two on something called VHS. It starts with a flashback scene of Andy (voice of John Morris) playing with his toys, followed by present-day Andy getting ready for college. What should he do with his frankly neglected buddies? His mother (Laurie Metcalf) has an idea that he doesn’t much care for. Andy decides to take Woody (Tom Hanks) along with him to college and put the others in the attic, but miscommunication ensues, with nearly unfortunate results.

There was an article in the Wall Street Journal back on February 19 that describes the plot this way: “In Pixar’s coming movie ‘Toy Story 3,’ Woody the cowboy and his toy-box friends are dumped in a day-care center after their owner, Andy, leaves for college.” Well, not quite; I think there was intentional misdirection on Pixar’s part, rather like the wallpaper image shown above.

The toys do find themselves at the day-care center; quoting Ebert: “they think they’ll like [it], because there will be plenty of kids to play with them all day long. There seems to be relatively little grieving about the loss of Andy’s affections; he did, after all, sentence them to a toy box for years, and toys by nature are self-centered and want to be played with.”

There is a pecking order in the daycare, with the bear named Lotso (Ned Beatty) the seemingly Burl Ives-like, avuncular leader of the toys. Ultimately, the best scene in this segment may be between the clotheshorse Ken (Michael Keaton) and smarter-than-she-seems Barbie (Jodi Benson). Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) en Espanol is also entertaining.

Ultimately, the ending made my wife a little verklempt. As for me, I wasn’t nearly (sob) as (sob) affec(sob)ted (sob). Apparently, we were not alone.

No, we did not bring the daughter. There was enough “toys in peril” stuff going on in this G-rated film that we agreed that she would not enjoy it.

Oh, here’s a different kind of complaint I have: surely this movie will be nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards, and deservedly so. It got 99% positive reviews in Rotten Tomatoes; who WERE those three heartless critics who didn’t like it? But because there is now an animated feature category, its chances of winning the big award are virtually nil. I predict a best original screenplay nomination for Michael Arndt, probably best known for Little Miss Sunshine; not brave enough to pick it to win…yet.

In the “Who moved my cheese?” department

What did we do on Monday from 3:52 p.m. to 5:48 p.m.? We, that is to say I, stood in line so that my wife and I could renew our passports…

It’s my wife’s birthday today – happy birthday, Carol! – and we have been chuckling lately over something that started off as annoying.

She’s a deacon in our church. A few weeks ago, she substituted for another deacon in preparing a snack for after the service. She had bought, with her own money, a block of cheese, had cut it up, put it on a plastic plate, covered it up with a plastic wrap, and brought it to church at 9:30 a.m., at which point she went to Bible study.

At 10:30, she went to transfer said cheese onto a nicer plate, but she could not find the cheese. She looked around for a time, finally finding the plate of cheese in the garbage. There were other snacks, but she was understandably annoyed, actually, less about the waste of money and more about the waste of time preparing said cheese, then looking for it.

There is a policy – these are Presbyterians, so naturally, there’s a policy – that food in the refrigerator need be labeled and dated, but Carol never thought that the food she brought could be dumped in an hour. (By contrast, when they cleaned out the refrigerators at my workplace on July 9, we got a week’s e-mail notice, with large notices also on the fridges.)

Carol tells the deacon for whom she substituted about the situation, so she could be alerted when next that deacon served snacks the following week. Then the fun began, with that deacon forwarding Carol’s note, to Carol’s chagrin, to all the other deacons and the pastors. Suddenly, there was a flurry of e-mails going back and forth, some citing policy, others complaining about the waste of food, still others suggesting it be discussed at a committee meeting, and/or that better signs be made. A huge cause celebre.

The custodian had noted that someone else had been eating the cheese that morning, and was possibly the one who rewrapped it poorly. The member of the committee who tossed the cheese had thrown out the cheese because she was afraid it had been there too long; it wasn’t wrapped well, probably by the snacker, but then, to Carol’s embarrassment, she gave her money, to compensate for her loss.

I, on the other hand, thought it was all terribly funny, and labeled it The “Who moved my cheese?” incident. Then it felt more like absurdist theater, and we laughed about it regularly.

Quite coincidentally, there is a unit in my building at work that was downsizing, and they were getting rid of some books. I picked up a few business books for our work library, including the Spencer Johnson book, “Who Moved My Cheese?” I mean, I just HAD to.
***
So what did we do on Monday from 3:52 p.m. to 5:48 p.m.? We, that is to say, I, stood in line so that my wife and I could renew our passports and so that our daughter could get her first one. There were two families ahead of ours. And we hit the line just minutes before the 4 p.m. deadline. The rush was based on a TV story we heard that the rates were going up on Tuesday.

The downside of waiting is that I did not bring any reading material. The upside is that, by the time we actually got to the front, I could cite, almost verbatim, the policies put forth by our fine postal employee. “The passports will take four to six weeks. It has been taking four weeks, but because of the recent influx, it might take a little longer.”

We hadn’t planned on waiting until almost literally the last minute. We were near the post office earlier in the day, but the daughter was having a stomachache. Later, we got an unexpected 71-minute phone call from an old friend, then I went bike riding with the daughter while the wife napped. (We’d gotten up very early to take a relative from Oneonta to the Albany airport that morning.)

In the end, we saved nearly $100, and I got a lesson in passport policy.
***
It’s also Linda Ronstadt’s birthday, so maybe she should sing with Muppets.

 

30-Day Challenge: Day 12- Where Your Family Is From

Greater Binghamton, ironically, has been getting smaller.


My sisters and I were born in Binghamton, NY. My parents were apparently born in Binghamton, NY; my father, I’m not positive about, but certainly by the 1930 Census, when he was 3.5, he was in Binghamton, NY. My maternal grandmother and her mother and HER mother grew up in Binghamton, NY.

The vast majority of the relatives I can find were born in New York State. Some were from Pennsylvania, probably in an area not that far from Binghamton, NY.

I wrote about Binghamton, NY extensively HERE.

I was in Binghamton proper this past weekend, though only in passing, for the aforementioned family reunion. A lot of my wife’s family are from the Binghamton area, though I was unfamiliar with them when I was growing up.

Strange change to the nomenclature about the Binghamton metro. It is now called Greater Binghamton. The airport is called the Greater Binghamton Airport. When I was growing up, it was called the Triple Cities, which included the villages, not cities, of Johnson City and Endicott. Greater Binghamton, ironically, has been getting smaller. There used to be two public high schools, and now there is only one, pictured above; that’s the building, now augmented, that my mother, my sister Leslie and I used to go to, once Binghamton Central HS (the blue and white of the Bulldogs), now Binghamton High (the red, white and blue Patriots).

Several interstates run through the city. I-81, which runs north/south (fastest way to get from Syracuse, NY to Scranton, PA is through Binghamton); I-88, which the late state Senate Majority Leader Warren Anderson got built from Binghamton to Schenectady, near Albany, even though it pretty much parallels NY Route 7. A new Route 17, which will eventually become I-86, was started when I was in high school, which involved tearing down some perfectly decent housing just a block north of my late grandmother’s old house. I used to ride my bicycle on the completed, but not yet opened highway. I’ve successfully had to relearn how to get from one part of the area to another via highway, rather than the local roads.

Z is for at the ZOO

Yes, what ARE they talking about? I’ve been paranoid about gathered birds…

Simon & Garfunkel had been performing on their “Old Friends” tour this year, and I had been considering going to one of the shows in Massachusetts. Then I heard the show had to be canceled because of Art Garfunkel’s vocal paresis.

Old Friends/Bookends was the last pair of songs, segued together, on the first side of the 1968 S&G album, Bookends. The collection also featured “Mrs. Robinson”, “A Hazy Shade of Winter” and “America”.

At the Zoo was the last song on the second side of the album. (Remember when albums had “sides”?) Here’s a video of the song.

I recall really liking this recording when I was in high school, whereas my good friend Carol HATED it, and also the Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever; odd the things one recalls. And I was particularly fascinated by the attributes that Paul Simon assigned to the animals.

Someone told me
It’s all happening at the zoo.

I do believe it,
I do believe it’s true.

It’s a light and tumble journey
From the East Side to the park;
Just a fine and fancy ramble
To the zoo.

But you can take the crosstown bus
If it’s raining or it’s cold,
And the animals will love it
If you do.

Somethin’ tells me
It’s all happening at the zoo.

The monkeys stand for honesty,

Could this be a reference to the see no evil/speak no evil/hear no evil depiction of monkeys? (And why IS that?)


Giraffes are insincere,

I suppose that could be because they wouldn’t/couldn’t look you in the eye.

And the elephants are kindly but
They’re dumb.

I suppose this is a function of the pachyderm’s lumbering gait. But I was watching an episode of CBS News 60 Minutes, rerun on July 4, that indicates that elephants are considerably more sophisticated than we might have thought. “Researchers listening to elephant sounds and observing their behavior are compiling an elephant dictionary.”

Orangutans are skeptical
Of changes in their cages,

I mean, aren’t we all wary of change? Perhaps they were picked because they are fellow primates, or because of the scansion of the word “orangutans”.

And the zookeeper is very fond of rum.

Ah, the inmate running the asylum.
Actually, it seems that the understanding of keeping animals in zoos has improved tremendously since I was a child, with more room for the creatures to roam, e.g.

“Paul Simon released a children’s book titled At the Zoo (ISBN 0-385-41771-3) which combines the lyrics of the song with the very detailed illustrations of Valerie Michaut. To make this book appropriate for children, Simon made changes and additions, including identifying Rum as a beaver.”

Zebras are reactionaries,

Because they see everything in black and white?

Antelopes are missionaries,

You know, the horns and the markings on their foreheads rather look like a cross, I believe.

Pigeons plot in secrecy,

Yes, what ARE they talking about? I’ve been paranoid about gathered birds since I saw that Hitchcock film.

And hamsters turn on frequently.

I suspect that hamster cages could generate lots of energy, if only we knew how to harness it. In that aforementioned children’s book, the hamsters are given headlights, which they “turn on frequently”.

What a gas! You gotta come and see
At the zoo.


ABC Wednesday

Only Moderately Schizoid

Low or moderate ratings mean that you are unlikely to have the disorder.


Since I was away this weekend at the reunion, I find it useful to fall back on online tests people send me. Fortunately, I have an irrational fascination with psychological testing, even the thumbnail sketches on the Inters-net. Does my freak flag fly?

Disorder Rating
Paranoid: Low
Schizoid: Moderate
Schizotypal: Moderate
Antisocial: Low
Borderline: Low
Histrionic: Moderate
Narcissistic: Low
Avoidant: Low
Dependent: Low
Obsessive-Compulsive: Moderate

— Personality Disorder Test —
— Personality Disorder Information —

Personality Disorder Test Results
Please remember that this test isn’t meant to diagnose you. Only a professional can do that. Below are your test results, broken down for the ten different personality disorders. You are rated “low,” “moderate,” “high,” or “very high” probability for each disorder. Low or moderate ratings mean that you are unlikely to have the disorder. High or very high means you are more likely to have the disorder. Only a professional can diagnose a disorder, however.

So, people who know me: accurate or not?

Photographs were taken July 7, 2010. (C) 2010, Mary Hoffman. Used by permission

Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial