Why I can't watch LOTR with my father anymore

OK, probably the greatest set of films produced. Ever. "Lord of the Rings". It leaves "Star Wars" in its dust, combining the amazing storytelling and plot weaving of J.R.R. Tolkien with the imagination, vision, and execution of Peter Jackson.
I have watched the entire trilogy three times already, and it leaves me with a gaping jaw every time. I have, of course, bought the extended edition release, because more is better in this case.
And so, I sat to watch it with my father, who is also a huge fan. Except I can barely watch five straight minutes of film without "was this in the original release?...was this...?".
Now, I remember, mostly. It is also indicated in the chapters which as been extended from or add to the theatrical version.
But I want to watch the film!
I need to concentrate. I need to feel myself disappear into the story. I welcome the abduction of all my senses when I watch these films, and I feel myself walking along with the characters. Awed with them at the sights that accompany them on their journey. Because where the film is amiss, I complete from my own knowledge of the story from the all the works of Tolkien I have read and even fleeting moments on screen take on a profound meaning, that someone who has only seen the movies might overlook, or be completely unaware of.
And then there are the gaps. Some things are not crystal clear in the movie, and I, having become the repository of all things LOTR for my father, find myself explaining little bits of background information. "Why did he say that?" and "Where did they go?" and "Where did they com from?" and my favorite "How come they don't know this?" It's annoying and distracting.
Next time, I'm bringing with me a piece of paper and pen.
Please save all questions to the end.

Black on Black

What a genius Lewis Black is!
I'm in the process of listening (it's better than reading) his book "Nothing's Sacred". It prompted an urge to download all his Back in Black segments from the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. I can no longer watch the show itself because of a cable versus satellite competitions and regulations and cost-value schemes, but the internet serves me with the highlights.
Anyway, it has been a long time since such a politically aware comic has been so affective is Lewis Black. Politically in the way of Political-Correctness comic, not a Political-Governmental way.
Satire about celebrities and minorities and life in general has been amiss since someone invented political Correctness, and that person should be shot. Jon Stewart has made a whole career of it. There have been people in the past, Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, and others I might no even be aware of, but in my life-time I can barely remember any. None that were really exceptional (may Chris Rock forgive these lines). It's more than making jokes about them, it's putting them in a rediculous light.
Returning to Lewis Black, I just love him. He doesn't always make me laugh, and that's exactly the point. He touches nerves that most people nowadays stay away from. Things that I may not find funny, do not put me off of listening to every word he has to say. He warns us about the things in life we might take too seriously, and points out their absurdities. He points out the naked kings we wish to follow, worship, and celebrate. The way we empathize with celebrities who a suffer minor indignation, while our neighbors and fellow men wallow in true misery.
And on top of that, he is funny!
What else can we ask for?!

Music bitching again...

I'm going to rant about music again. This time not in the disgusting self-pity of my lat entry, but in a militant "what-the-hell-are-they-playing" fashion.
As I've mentioned before, I occasionally like to go out an play some pool. I'm not very good at it, I've mentioned as well, but damn it, I like it!
We meet at a place not far from here, on the roof a large mall. It's a nice sized club with lots of people and large projected TV's all around so you can check out the current game on Eurosports, or maybe the latest in the fashion on FTV (depending on the mood of who=ever is in charge).
Now, as some may know, pool halls should have certain kind of music playing in them. Namely Rock. Rock and Roll. Punk Rock. Garage Punk...Anything with guitars and drums. It can be hard or heavy, melodic or bouncing, indie or progressive (no emo, please!), but it should fall into the category of "Rock Music".
Hip Hop, not to mention Rap, have no real space in a pool hall, but I can see how they would work.
Dance is right out!
That stupid banging and repetitive beats with dumb-ass words and three repeating bars of distinguishable music.
And that's kinda what they play at the place we go to.
If it weren't for the awful music they play it would be perfect.
I swear my play time is cut short because long before I get tired of playing, the music just pisses me off! It does, indeed, save me money, but I'm not sure that it's the manager's intentions.
Every once in a while they have a good evening with kick ass music, but it's usually only for an hour or so, and then they return to the regularly schedule crap. We've spoken to them once, and the guy at the desk (running the music computer) says the music is mandated by the owners over the entire chain, and they can't do anything about it.
Tonight, for example, I've heard five Eminem songs in the course of the hour and a half we were there. That is too much, even if I am in the mood! Which I wasn't.
I apologize to all the Eminem fans out there, but "Cleanin Out My Closet" is not a pool-playing background-music song!
Makes me wanna stick a cue through my brain!

Silence

Music is one of the greatest things in the world. I love music. I can listen to music, but most often I experience it. I can't tell you what's my favorite song or who is my favorite band, because there are thousands of songs that I love the most, and dozens of bands that whose music I like almost unconditionally (the definition of fanatic!).
As long as I can remember, I had a sound-track to my life. I would wake up in the morning with a song in my head. The song would change with my mood. Sometimes, a surprising song on the radio will alter my mood completely. Music was defined my current mood, and affected it in much the same way.
However, lately, I have been waking up with nothing. And walking through the day with nothing. Sometimes, a song will elevate my mood, but it's occurring in lessening frequency. It is the brightest and most shiny sign of my lack of inspiration. I get up, and I don't want to go to work. I feel bored. I go to write something, and nothing comes out, and instead I let my mind lock on something stupid on the television set.
I need a change to happen. Quickly. Get up and change myself, people keep telling me, but it's hard to do when you're mired in dullness, and you can't see what's your interest in getting up and doing something.
I need something to elate me again, because I'm just sad all the time. And angry. And, sometimes nothing. Just blank.

Let's Eat!

It is said that all Jewish holidays may be described in the following manner: "Somebody wanted to kill us all, but we were saved at the last minute. Let's Eat!"
It's true, for the most part. No matter how asinine the reason is for a holiday, there is an ample amount of food, many items specific to that holiday, an no others.
Never is this truer that at Passover. The entire holiday (all seven days of it) is centered around the food. There are special foods that we eat only during this week. There is a special Kosher designation for Passover. Many of the every day food-stuffs that we eat, become contraband in Passover. You are not even supposed to have them in access. Whatever you don't throw away you must sell!
There is so much food-related fussing, that the real reason for the holiday is almost forgotten in the shuffle.
Passover celebrates freedom. In Hebrew we refer to it as the "Liberty Holiday". It is also the "Spring Holiday". There are many names to it, but aside from a few select moments in this long holiday, we never remember them. It's all about who is more "Kosher for Passover".
It's down to Kosher bathroom cleaning products!
Likely to lick a toilet bowl, are we?

2nd Degree Relations

There is an old Israeli-army quote about career-NCOs: "I want a large circle of 360 degrees, and inside a small circle of 180 degrees!"
It is used in great reverence for their intelligence (where is that sarcastic blue when you need it) but I use it symbolize tight circles of relationships. Inside, you have your closest friends. Friends you can share any thoughts with. People you can share your very life with. A circle so tight it does seem to have only 180 degrees in it.
Outside, there is the "friends of friends". People who, usually, are met through mutual friends, who you keep a friendly term with, but not a person you would normally call out of the blue for nothing. These are the second degree relations. People who are not really close, but close enough that you don't want to hurt their feelings. Usually because of repercussion from people you do care about, but never mind the motive.
The worst is when these people don't notice. The circles are often very clear, and people share definition of a circle. It is rare, although it happens, that one person might place another in an inner circle, while the latter places the former in an outer circle. This misunderstanding of relationship definition can be, at best uncomfortable, and at worst, downright annoying.
This can often lead to greatly awkward moments.
Like last night
When I found myself in an outer-circle party, when all my inner-circle friends - the link to the hosts - were missing. It was a birthday party as well, so small gifts were involved, on top of everything. One got stuck on a trip with a broken down car and could not make it, one has a pregnant wife who was feeling ill, and another was sick at home with mild pneumonia. All valid excuses, except the pneumonia - what's a little coughing of contagious viruses! Except, that I was mostly by myself with people I wasn't so close to and did not look to get so close to.
And now I've made their inner circle, which is why they are bothering me with IMs all day! Like now, as I'm writing this!

Social civility is a bitch!

Team Sports are hazardous to you health...

...if you're watching!
My sport is basketball. I can't play worth a damn, but I love to watch. I don't really have a team in particular, and my favorite change from season to season. The reality is that I'm a fan of coaches! I'm find myself rooting to the teams whose coaches I like.
All that's true in our local, national league.
The story is different in international competition when I'm a HUGE fan (of course) of the Israeli representative. In Europe, the biggest league is the Euroleague. The best teams in the continent play there. And the biggest team to play there, certainly over the last two year, is an Israeli team called Maccabi Tel-Aviv.
They year, the system has been cracked, and they face a much stiffer competition as all their moves have been studied and stopped by the other teams. This year there is a serious danger that they will not go all the. There is even a chance they wont make it to the Final Four (to be held at Prague this year, by the way).
How does all this affect me and why it is dangerous? Because of my poor heart that suffers a thousand tiny attacks during a forty minute game. On top of the immediate physiological affect, I also eat a lot during the game. Eat garbage of course, 'cause that's what you do while watching sports! All sorts of fat, oily, and salty things that come in little bags with health warning on them (I'm exaggerating of course; there are no, in fact, warnings in the bags, but there should be.)
Tonight, for example, was the second game in a series of three for the quarter finals. It was an away game, and Maccabi lost. The series it tied 1-1, and will be decided next week at home.
Maccabi played terribly. So instead of jumping up and down, screaming happily at the television, ignoring the munchables on the table, we sat there sulking, eating continuously. I feel quite sick right now, not to mention the poison that is now slowly being absorbed into my body.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Because I have no self-restraint.
And because Maccabi keeps losing and playing poorly, and I'm worried that they are not taking the championship this year, and they might not even get to the Final Four.

It's all their fault!
I wonder if my insurance covers this in case I get a heart attack before the end of the season.

Isn't that deflating...!

It's nice to know that with all the technology around, and all the crashing of PCs and Servers, all of internet service failure, network congestion, etc., you can always trust a flat tire to bring you back to reality.
I drove into my drive way, and there was a strange sound coming from somewhere I didn't quite place. As I opened the door, the load hissing sound was no longer unmistakable. I had a flat. I don't exactly know how it happened. Normally, I get flats because there is still construction all around me, so there it always the odd nail or piece of metal that jams itself into the rubber. This time, the valve itself torn at the base, and all the air came rushing out.
But there is nothing like changing a tire, a little manual labor, to bring some sense into things. I wish everything could be as easily replaced as a tire. A little back-work, and you're done.
I wish everyday my puzzles would not be more difficult than figuring out which way the Jack goes (because every car has to have its own special king of Jack; a standard would be unthinkable!) So I have grease under my fingernails, and cuts and little bruises over my arms, but it made me forget my day, that's for sure!

I should have a weekly self-initiated tire change. I seem happy about it, for some reason, where I should be cursing and kicking.
On second thought, maybe I'll just leave the tires be.

Oooh! Pizza's done!

Of course I'm wet again!

Yes, it is spring time, and yes, it rarely rains in the spring around here, but it sure as hell going to rain on me!
I hate the rain.
I don't really hate it, but I don't like it. Mainly it is because it is wet. Water on ground - good; water falling through air on head - bad.
I can be happy when it rains. Happy in a sort of appreciative, grateful sort of way, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.
It all comes down to experiences. People who never leave the house, at least not be outside, can like the rain. They can stay indoors, and watch the magnificent flow outside. There are also people who take walks in the rain. They bundle up well, or poorly, depending on the effect they're after, and go for a walk. They can always return as soon as they feel the least bit uncomfortable.
My experiences include standing on a rooftop in a storm that lasted three days. This was back when I was in the Army. I was wearing five layers of winter gear, a flack-jacket, and combat gear, but after six hours straight in the pouring rain, even my underwear was wet.
Another experience is a Golden Retriever that doesn't care what's going on outside, when she needs to go She Needs To Go! (even her bark is capitalized at that point). I can't wait until a more convenient time, and I can't return whenever I want. She needs to go NOW and I have to stay outside until she concludes her business. Anybody who owns a dog knows that there is a very strict protocol for relieving oneself, and one does not "go" just anywhere.
That's what happened tonight. I was at my parents', and Sandy (our Golden) needed To Go. So I took her out, and got caught in a sudden downpour. I had no cloths to change into, and had to stay wet until I got back home.

So yey rain, and boo rain.
Give me the sunshine anytime! (those are some tough words coming from a red-headed-fair-skinned man who has been known to get sun-burns from neon!)

Spell-check Note: I wrote "ourside" when I meant "outside". Speller's suggestion: "Hurst". Go figure...