Book Review(s): Inspector Lynley Mysteries by Elizabeth George

Here's what I've been doing for the last month:

I got a Kindle, as you may or may not have heard. And I decided that what I wanted to read first on my Kindle were the Inspector Lynley mysteries by Elizabeth George. A bunch of them have been sitting in my Amazon.com wish list for well over a year, following my seeing the BBC versions of some of the books on Masterpiece: Mystery! At last count, I think I've read 6 of the 13 that are available. This is what keeps me off Facebook most nights. Of course there was also The Count of Monte Cristo, but that's a subject for another post.

So I started near the end, with the book that was the last episode of the television series: With No One As Witness. This one had all my favorite things in a mystery novel: lots of dead bodies, a potential threat to the law enforcement officers involved, and a serial killer. Needless to say, it did not disappoint. The bulk of the book deals with a series of murdered young boys; eventually the investigation leads the detectives to a youth center and from there to the killer. It was pretty awesome. I really enjoyed Inspector Lynley as a written character, and Sergeant Havers is awesome. This particular volume made some ill-advised attempts to convey what happens in a police situation room; no one wants to read about people sifting through paperwork and looking shit up on a computer -- those are things for which you want to skip showing and go straight to the telling. And make it brief.

Next I read What Came Before He Shot Her. I was tricked into buying this one by Amazon, which publicizes it on their website as being a Lynley/Havers novel. Well, no. It is a novel about the kid who shot Lynley's wife in the previous book. And it is terrible. Racist, and terrible. It reads like a social services case file on a 12-year-old stuck in a housing project. If this novel had been written about an African-American kid by this white woman writer, the outcry would have been quite loud. As it is, I found this novel offensive and boring -- drugs, sex, and gang violence aren't even remotely entertaining anymore, it turns out. Which is a shame -- if you're going to offend, at least make it interesting. I stopped less than halfway through, as soon as I figured out that Inspector Lynley would not be making an appearance.

And then came Careless In Red. I enjoyed most of it -- the investigation, Inspector Lynley and the way he's mourning the deaths of his wife and unborn child, most of the peripheral characters. But the character that gives the book its title was just stupid and one-dimensional, and I found myself really irritated by her and her supposed effect on several other characters. The whole situation was poorly drawn.

Then I went back to the beginning and read A Great Deliverance, Payment in Blood, Well-Schooled in Murder, A Suitable Vengeance, For the Sake of Elena, and Missing Joseph. I really liked going back to the beginning and meeting the characters for the first time. And honestly? Elizabeth George's writing was better in the earlier books. However, four of her five main characters -- Lynley, Helen Clyde, St. James and his wife Deborah -- really need to get over themselves. No one in real life has the kind of issues they only think they have. There's nothing relatable in any of their faux-drama. They are likeable enough, but they are not relatable. It's like the writer is so enamored of all their virtue, she's made them into these paragons. Presumably they all become more human, like the 5th main character, Sgt. Havers, as the series progresses. Thank god for Sgt. Havers, ever the voice of reason and actual humanity.

But in general, the books are really great reads, and the mysteries are somewhere between a British/PD James type thing and an American-feeling faster paced crime thriller. It was time well spent.

I am in fact still among the living.

What would it be like to be the sort of person who blogs every day? Or nearly every day. Or even, at this point, once a week? But don't worry -- I have an actual, semi-entertaining entry planned, reviewing a bunch of Inspector Lynley novels. Once I finish reading The Count of Monte Cristo. Which has somehow managed to take over my life the last several days. It's so long! And I just haven't had the kind of time I usually have to really sit down with it and read a ton all in one stretch. It's an awesome book -- I can't believe I've gotten all the way to 40 without ever having read it. But whatever -- I'm nearly finished and thus won't be deficient any longer.

And by the way? Totally different than that cheesey movie with Jim Caviezel -- which, don't get me wrong, I love wholeheartedly and will watch every single time it's on cable even though I actually own the DVD. But it should be called The Count of Monte Cristo, loosely inspired by the awesome novel of the same name. I totally picture the count with Jim Caviezel's face, but everything else in the story is pretty much... different. Yet another example of a book where I'm glad I saw the movie first, because otherwise the movie would have just angered me in all that it left out. And this is a situation where what they did instead didn't really improve upon the narrative -- the filmmakers actually just kind of made up a fan fiction ending and left it at that. Which is fine for fanfic, but not so much for movies. But I guess they just assumed that no one going to movies in 2002 had ever read the book...

Also? I'm really glad I got a Kindle and read this book on it, because the actual book is over 1200 pages long, and I have carpal tunnel syndrome something fierce, in addition to cysts on both wrists. I would have been even more miserable than I already am if I'd tried to hold that book for the 7 evenings it's taken me to read it.

Also? (And this is what I get for ever doing ANYthing on Facebook...) I posted that I was "Currently Reading" this book in my Facebook library thing, and it brought up some user reviews. And this one halfwit was going on and on about how cliched she found all the "revenge stuff." And said that "it just got really old after a while, and it's been done so many times." And I find that hysterical on so many levels, because this is actually the book that wrote the book on revenge fantasies. So if you're reading the first major work of literature to explore in depth a revenge plot, you can't call it cliched. You just can't. You have to actually put the book into context; you have to do a little work. You have to. Because otherwise, people like me will call you a halfwit. And mean it.

So yeah. I'll be back soon with an actual post, and you might even see me on Facebook again this weekend.

Hmmm...

I guess I take back what I said about the snow. It's quite crappy out now, and I had to have a friend drive me home from work because I am a wuss when it comes to 4 inches of slush over ice on the road...

I just realized...

that my brief synopsis of District 9 makes it sound like kind of a stupid movie. And it's totally not. So you should definitely see it.

Happy Friday! In my city, everyone was bunkering down last night in the belief that we were about to get hammered by a huge spring snowstorm; I think we were all afraid it was going to be like that one time in 2003 that 4 feet of heavy, wet snow actually shut the whole urban corridor down for three full days. And let me just tell you, this city does not shut down for snow. You are expected to be at work, and be at work on time, even if there's 14 inches of snow on the ground. Once we get past the 18-inch mark, we begin discussions of leaving work early and late starts the next morning and what have you. So it takes a major, major snow event to shut this place down. And that's what the weatherpeople were hyping earlier this week, well into the evening last night -- 10 to 15 inches, probably more, blizzard-like conditions, etc. etc.

Well. Perhaps that happened somewhere, probably two hours north of here. But here, it's just snowy and wet and gray. Life goes on as usual.

Damn weatherpeople and their vicious lies.

Movie Reviews: Best Picture Showcase 2010

Me and The Husband spent this past Saturday at day two of AMC Theatres' Best Picture Showcase 2010. Our new tradition for Oscar weekend... does it count as a "tradition" if we've only in fact done it twice? Well, whatever... here are some thoughts on the 5 movies we saw (we'd seen 8 of the 10 nominees for this year's Oscars. We heart movies.):

1). Up. OMG! This movie is amazing. Funny, touching, a little bit tear-jerky, visually awesome. Our only regret was that we didn't get to see it in 3D. The couple in the movie reminded us of... us. So awesome. Can totally see why it was nominated in the Best Picture category in addition to Best Animated Feature, and was thrilled when it won Best Animated Feature. Pixar rules.

2). A Serious Man. I felt really bad for the people sitting beside us because they thought they were about to see A Single Man... totally different movie. So this was the Coen brothers, which automatically means you're about to be taken on a weird ride, and you'll laugh along the way and often be a bit puzzled, but still love the ride. And sure enough, it delivered. It's about a Jewish family in 1960s Ohio who may or may not be cursed owing to the actions of a relative back in the shtetl. It is funny in that special way that only Jewish families can deliver. The ending was rather abrupt (a tornado about to level the town and several main characters, with several plotlines seemingly unresolved), and at first I was like, WTF? But then I thought about it, and realized it was to be expected. Given the curse. Or as per The Husband's point of view, the tornado was a larger symbol of the pointlessness of believing that God actually has any kind of plan for us.

My favorite moment was a youthful rabbi who reminded us of a good friend, who will henceforth be known as Rabbi Dicker. For the rest of all time.

3). The Hurt Locker. Really well done movie about bomb diffusion experts in Iraq in 2004. I'm a fan of brutally realistic war movies, and this one certainly didn't disappoint. Its accolades are well-deserved, and I'm thrilled that Kathryn Bigelow won Best Director. What's funny is that this movie made me realize how jaded I've become about brutally realistic war movies. Someone I know had been talking about how much this movie made her "think," and I didn't really pursue it at the time, because I hadn't seen it yet. But after I did, I felt like something was wrong with me because it really didn't make me think. It was everything I expected it to be, but it didn't keep me awake at night or anything. It only confirmed for me that war is horrible and brutal and perhaps too much for young men who are practically still children to deal with, and that the stress of combat sometimes causes people to do questionable things, and become people they might not have otherwise become. I guess if anything, it just reaffirms my belief that we need to take special care of our service people, both before and after they serve in combat.

4). An Education. Ah, a beautiful British coming of age film starring the oh-so-awesome Carey Mulligan -- Oscar nomination well-deserved for her, by the way. The whole movie is just lovely and lyrical, and I loved every second of it. In the hands of lesser actors and a worse director, it could have been sugarcoated and schlocky, but instead, it's both heartbreaking and hopeful, sad and funny. It's got a happy ending, luckily, but you find yourself thinking, Yikes -- that was a near miss. It's just a gorgeous, lovely movie. And?? The Husband loved it too!

5). District 9. An alien movie that kind of sneaks up on you, it's done as a faux-documentary, which I think really works. I love that this movie got a Best Picture nod, because it could have so easily been overlooked. An allegory about apartheid (and any other method the human race has devised to marginalize large groups of other humans), the premise is that an alien spaceship broke down in the skies over Johannesburg, South Africa 20 years ago, and the alien creatures were rescued, brought down from the ship, and put into a shantytown/craphole just outside the city. They are about to be moved to a new location because the humans hate having them there -- they think of them as vermin, basically. So the man chosen to lead the mission of notifying the aliens they're about to be relocated becomes infected with alien blood and begins turning into one of the aliens. He narrowly escapes becoming a governmental science project, and assists one of the real aliens in escaping and getting the spaceship running again; this alien takes his child and says he's going to go back to his home and bring back help for the rest of the stranded aliens. Since this movie doesn't take place in space or on a spacecraft, but rather on earth as we know it, it really humanizes the situation and gives you more things to ponder than the usual alien movie.

Honestly, in our couple of years of making sure we've seen all the Best Picture nominees before the Oscars air, we've come to realize that we don't envy the people that do have to make the choice. It's hard to pick a favorite out of ten really amazing movies. We had also seen Avatar, Up In the Air, and The Blind Side.

Honestly, if I had to choose, I would split my award between Up In the Air and An Education.

Book Review: Rich Again by Anna Maxted

Worst. Book. Ever.

I don't know -- I feel like I've maybe read worse, but can't think of anything off the top of my head. So Rich Again is the latest gem from Anna Maxted, a chick lit writer who I used to love but has let me down immensely before... her book Running In Heels was the one where, 200 pages in, the main character is suddenly anorexic, with no hints leading up to it. As I'm fond of saying, I should have known better. But I was taken in by the cute cover, and by the fact that I was buying a PD James mystery at the time, along with Drood and The Count of Monte Cristo (Unabridged), and knew I was going to need something light to go along with all that. So I gave Anna another chance. And let me assure you, she has failed, and thus her chances are all used up.

The book is about the fabulously wealthy Kent family of England -- the father was disgraced during the Lloyd's debacle of the early 1990s, but the stepmother had the foresight to move all of his hotel empire holdings into her own name several years before, thus ensuring the family held onto most of its fortune. There is a daughter of the father's first marriage named Claudia, and a daughter of the second marriage named Emily. Claudia is supposed to be the character we root for, because she is nice and was treated cruelly by the stepmother and has turned her back on the family to make her own way in the world as a journalist. However? Claudia is totally fucking boring. And that's why no one gives a shit about her.

And then there's Emily, who we see at age 14 on page 1, planning a huge party at her mummy's Hollywood mansion. Emily is a whore, yet still a virgin. She is a disgusting human being. She's smart, but utterly stupid at the same time. I suspect that we're supposed to have some sympathy for her, but since the writer clearly hates her, and writes every single line about her with poison positively dripping from her pen, there's no way we'll ever locate our sympathy. Late in the book, a few years down the road, Emily gets her children taken away from her by Social Services -- the whole thing supposedly engineered by the real villain. But the thing is, she totally deserved to get her kids taken away.

The dad Jack is emotionally unavailable to everyone in his life following the death of his first wife (Claudia's mother). The parts narrated in his voice just make him come off like a whiny douchebag. Like we're going to feel sorry for him. He marries Innocence, but he hates her. He's in Paris getting a hotel ready to open and falls in love with Maria, the housekeeping manager who turns out to be Claudia's birth mother. Yeah, by the way? Claudia's adopted. About 1/3 of the way through the book there's this scene that takes place in Italy somewhere and two people have just gotten married and are all swoony and happy but you're not supposed to know who these two people are. But it's TOTALLY fucking obvious that it's Jack and Maria, and that we'll eventually find out that his marriage to Innocence was never legal or some stupid shit like that.

Meanwhile, Claudia has fallen in love with an older guy at work, who turns out to be her birth father. Luckily her sister Emily figures this out before Claudia gives up her goodies, but the way Claudia goes about breaking things off with the guy is beyond ludicrous: she lets him catch her getting it from behind while bent over a desk from a slimy coworker that everyone hates, Claudia included. Instead of, oh, I don't know, telling her fiance that she's his long lost daughter, she gets all pissy about it and concocts this scenario in her head where he banged her birth mother and abandoned her, never knowing she was even pregnant. Of course we know from Maria that this scenario is far from the truth. But the record is never set straight, not in 734 pages. I hate that kind of shit.

And true to Anna Maxted's new style, I guess, on page 200 we are introduced to the real villain. Out of nowhere, we learn that Claudia's mom and Jack had adopted a baby boy named Nathan to "complete" their family, but Claudia's mom dies before the adoption is finalized and Jack, who has never bonded with the boy at all, turns him back over to family services or whatever. Because apparently in England you can't adopt a child without a mother in the home or some shit, or maybe it was just "back then." It's all very convoluted and contrived so that the author can create a villain with a vendetta against the family; what she failed to realize is that these people are all fucking assholes and "what goes around comes around" and eventually they would have screwed themselves -- she didn't need to add a real villain to get the job done.

So this kid grows up abused by the foster care system and turns into a psychopath who eventually murders his birth mother and then goes off to Hollywood and becomes this big huge Oscar-winning star, and all the while is masterminding the downfall of the entire Kent clan. We're supposed to not be sure when we meet Ethan Summers the movie star whether or not he's also Nathan the crazy psycho. But the writing is so shitty and the plot so thin that of course we know... unless we are a halfwit, I guess.

Eventually he kills Emily and somehow convinces Claudia to marry him even though the whole family hates him because they believe he's responsible for Emily's kids getting injured in his house and subsequently taken away by Social Services and placed in foster care. Sorry, but I just don't see Claudia falling for someone like him and agreeing to marry him. Also? There is a gaping plot hole where we're expected to believe he planned out the entire thing where Emily's kids get placed in foster care, but there's no way he could have possible known that Emily would end up with him and the kids be hanging around. Also, the amount of time he spent with the kids just wouldn't have happened -- he was a case study in despising other children growing up and I just don't think he would've been able to fake it that well. Not even as good an actor as he's supposed to be.

But whatever. He kills Emily, helps Claudia get the kids back, convinces her to marry him, and then moves in to kill her and the rest of the family on the wedding night. He has somehow managed to convince his former psychologist to be his personal and murdering assistant, by the way, and they manage to kidnap the kids and tie Claudia up and then the dad and stepmom come to the rescue. Except there's just no way a psychopath like this would've let everyone live as long as he does. Eventually he only kills Jack the dad as stepmother Innocence kills him and the crazy assistant. So Claudia and the children live happily ever after and she marries her old childhood friend Alfie, who she was in love with all along.

Does it sound stupid? Because it is. Better writing could have made it palatable. But I suspect Maxted was trying to write a thriller, and she doesn't have the proper skills -- mood setting, character building for many different types of people, etc. The villain character, for example, comes off like his backstory was copied rote from a sociology case file -- bad foster care, failure to bond, presto! Psycho. Which is both boring and annoying in a book.

I can't believe I spent 5 hours of my life reading this book, but since I did, I guess I can warn the rest of you not to follow suit.

Oh Crap...

My birthday is in 3 days and I haven't given much thought -- okay, ANY thought -- to what my bday resolutions are going to be for this year. And this is the year I have to come up with 40. Damn. I suppose I should also check up on how I did with last year's -- maybe the ones I didn't keep I can just use again.

So I have had Olympics hangover every day for a week, but just as I was beginning to grow a bit weary of the games, there came this weekend, during which no events that interest me were broadcast in the evenings. So I took a break. Sadly I did not take a break from television altogether, and spent the entire day today catching up on DVRed episodes of Big Love, and watching that movie Adam, which Rob got from Netflix because it's about a guy with Asperger's. I joked that they should have just called the movie "Rob" instead of Adam, but Rob functions way better than the man in the movie -- just like the at the end of the movie, Rob has been forced to be on his own and learn how to cope for a long time; he wasn't sheltered the way the man in the movie was. Unfortunately, in general the movie wasn't very well done, so it was kind of disappointing. For about half of it, I felt like I was watching an after school special called You Can Be Friends With the Asperger's Kid!

Anyway, I was going to comment that I now get raging headaches if I watch too much television. I think it's the position of our chair and sofa in relation to the television. I always have to slightly turn my head to see the screen, and it's enough to create a crick in my neck and that turns to a headache if I zone out for the whole day. Sigh. I guess that means I'm going to have to start doing something more productive on my weekends...

I don't know why I'm surprised.

I can't remember the specific Olympic games, but am recalling this morning that NBC really botched their coverage in recent years... wait, it was the 1996 summer games in Atlanta -- there were all kinds of shenanigans going on with true competition timelines and lack of coverage for many events. And so I don't know why I'm surprised that NBC completely screwed up last night's opening ceremonies for half of the United States, but they sure did.

First of all, it wasn't being aired live in the Mountain and Pacific time zones. How do you NOT air it live?? I turned on Olympics coverage at 6:30pm MST, and for two hours, they messed around, interviewing athletes, showing other stuff, nothing terribly interesting, and didn't being the coverage of the actual ceremony until nearly 8:30. At that point, the ceremony had already been going on for an hour and a half in real life, and everyone I know in the Central and Eastern time zones had been enjoying it for that long. A full hour and a half before I got to see the cauldron being lit, everyone I know in those time zones had already seen it, tweeted about it, and gone to bed. Instead of the inane messing about, NBC could have just aired their live feed here too, and messed about after.

Second of all, Bob Costas. I keep thinking that at some point he's going to get his shit together and not make an ass of himself as he commentates on yet another Olympics Opening Ceremony. But oops! He's done it again. There was a huge lack of explanation for what was going on and why; Matt Lauer would ask thought-provoking questions and Bob would just ignore them; no explanation was given of who half the people participating in the ceremony were and why they were there... it was ridiculous. And yet I know the information was out there, because I got it from the Vancouver 2010 website... which I had to do because Bob Costas is a moron. I mean, this is the SAME dude who brought us the "Beef: It's what's for dinner" comment during the SLC 2002 opening ceremony, while Aaron Copeland's Fanfare for the Common Man played, so I don't know why I'm surprised, yet here I sit... surprised. At how bad it was.

And of course NBC cut actual parts of the performance out, and aired way too many commercials. Wayyyyyy too many. Which made the performance make less sense to anyone watching at home.

I bet the opening ceremony was totally awesome. I wouldn't know for sure -- I only saw part of it.

Is this what I can expect for the next two weeks -- an hour and a half delay in everything I'm watching from the evening's Olympics coverage? Fantastic.

Thanks for nothing, NBC.

Now we're going to hate on Taylor Swift? Seriously, people?

So last Sunday night at the Grammy Awards, someone sang out of key. And now the whole fucking world is going to spin off its axis! Batten down the hatches...

Look, I am 39 years old, going on 40 in a couple of short weeks. Out of my 40 years, I have seen approximately 26 or 27 Grammy Awards shows. On those shows, there have been an average of 10 live musical performances per show. Of those performances, roughly half suck. So that's 130 sucky performances in the last 26 Grammy Awards shows -- and trust me, I'm being conservative. The main sucking point is usually that the band is playing in a key far different than the lead singer is singing in. In general, it's because the quality of the talent isn't that high. But more often than not, there is an OBVIOUS issue with sound, and the singers clearly can't hear the backing music. Presumably, too, there's a lack of rehearsal time. Some of these people have a lot of other things going on. And sometimes, good bands and good singers just have an off night, on national television.

What's interesting is that, until now, no one ever calls them on it. But now we're going to hate on Taylor Swift. Because she sang poorly during a duet with Stevie Nicks. Who is apparently a perfect goddess who has never sung out of key a day in her life (10 years of cocaine abuse notwithstanding, apparently Stevie Nicks is so magical that she was a perfect performer throughout).

I have news for you, people: Stevie Nicks was ALSO out of key during the very same Grammy Awards performance. Her voice is definitely not what it once was, and she was struggling. Also? The Black Eyed Peas were out of key. And we've seen them in concert, and they were freaking awesome, and totally not out of key. And yet no one is going on about how crappy Fergie is for singing out of key on one night. Also? Green Day. Not quite in tune. But I guess they get a pass because it's totally punk rock to not be in tune.

What disgusts me though is the overall tone of the picking on Taylor Swift. This tone of she's only won all her awards because people felt sorry for her after the whole Kanye West incident.

Um, no. Just because some of you were living under a rock and didn't notice that she had the biggest selling album of 2009, or the biggest video of the year (Single Ladies dances moves notwithstanding), doesn't mean that it didn't happen. Just because you failed to notice doesn't mean that Taylor Swift hasn't connected and touched a nerve with a massive audience. And THAT is how you win awards. Awards don't go to the best technical singer, or the band with the most proficient drummer, or the guitarist with the most amazing and original riffs. Awards go -- and have always gone -- to the people who lead the music industry at any given time. And whether you like it or not, Taylor Swift is currently leading the music industry. It would have been shameful NOT to give her all the awards she's been getting, and trust me -- people would have bitched about that instead.

She's not a powerhouse singer. She isn't a Beyonce or a Jennifer Hudson. Never has been. Her thing is music and lyrics. Her voice is more akin to the pop singer-songwriters, like Ingrid Michaelson or Sara Bareilles (ew) or Norah Jones. Since her thing is country, it is easy to forget this, and to assume, having never heard her sing before, that she's going to come over all Faith Hill or Martina McBride (who, incidentally, has sung out key, in public, on national television, on more than one occasion). But that's not who she is.

When you listen to her songs, if you really know how to listen, you'll hear that the backing vocals are always from bigger voices than hers. Hers is the smaller voice out front. She's never belting out giant notes. She's just sharing her thoughts and strumming her guitar. If anything, she's the victim of the overproduction that characterizes today's mainstream country music.

With the popularity of American Idol, suddenly everyone thinks they know some shit about music and singing and what it's like to do it and what it's supposed to sound like. Even NPR has entered this debate about Taylor Swift. Personally, I think NPR has better things to do with their time, but whatever.

Consider this: She already knows she's not the very best singer in that room. She's 20 years old, and still nervous about how people she admires perceive her. She also suffered the embarrassment of the Kanye incident -- sure, he did a douchebaggy thing but what if he was just saying what a bunch of other people were thinking? And she's singing with a legend, Stevie Nicks, someone who gets a free pass because she's been so admired for so long. And to top it all off, the sound quality onstage isn't great, and she can't hear a damn thing.

You'd sing off key too.

Yes you would.

But in the end, Taylor Swift is a nicer person than probably 80% of the people slagging her off. She has more going for her. She has millions of fans who believe in her. She writes awesome songs. She isn't some mental case wannabe prostitute who's going to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of Sunset Boulevard 8 years from now. She has grace and style, something most people know nothing about (see: aftermath of Kanye incident, where she refused to indulge in name-calling or the vilifying of Kanye). She doesn't really need your approval.

If you don't like her, fine. Get over it.

But for fuck's sake. Don't pretend you actually know anything about music. You'll only hurt yourself.

You know it was a lame weekend when...

... the most exciting thing you did was go to a meeting at work on Saturday afternoon.

... even cleaning started to seem fun.

... you got your scrapbooking supplies organized for a crop that's several days away.

... you checked out 5 books at the library...

... and it didn't even bother you that one of them has what looks to be a booger in back.

... it was THIS easy to root for football teams you don't even care about.

... you couldn't even muster up the energy to take a proper nap.

A bit disillusioned, but that's a good thing in this case.

So I found myself getting all bent out of shape earlier this week because this blogger whose blog I used to read posted the Paste Magazine Top 50 Albums of the Decade, highlighted the ones she and her husband own, and proceeded to mock the snobbiness of the list because of how many they don't own (I think all told they owned or were familiar with only about 7 or 8 on the list). A number of her readers jumped right in, agreeing with her about how snobby the list is and how stupid it is because they didn't see people like Prince or Green Day or insert name of popular band here on the list. A number of these people accused the magazine of racism because they only saw 3 black acts on the list (apparently you are only a "person of color" if you're black, and if these people know you're black). None of these people actually read Paste Magazine or were actually familiar with Paste Magazine prior to this blogger posting the list, and admittedly, most of them knew or were familiar with fewer than 5 of the acts on the list. The blogger herself is also not a reader of Paste; it's questionable as to whether or not she was familiar with Paste before posting the list, since she grabbed the list off another friend's blog in the first place.

So naturally I got annoyed. Because first of all, I think you should only be bitching about such a list if you were in fact the target audience of said list... in this case, a reader of Paste or a follower of Paste online. Someone familiar with Paste and what their overall editorial mission is -- which is to introduce people to musical acts they might love, but might not have heard about any other way but by reading the magazine or visiting their website. Paste doesn't feel the need to devote a cover story to Green Day or U2, because Green Day and U2 have the might of their artist deals behind them, and armies of millions of fans. You're not going to see a ton about Beyonce or Madonna in Paste, aside from actual record reviews -- and a cool thing about Paste is that at least one half of every single issue is devoted to reviews of actual albums, and also films, books, and other media which might be of interest to their readers. The music reviews are comprehensive though -- they cover most areas or subgenres of rock and roll, including the all-encompassing "world music." With every issue, you get a sampler cd of about 20 or so good songs featuring a number of artists the editorial staff wants to shout about that month. When I say "good songs," I mean good songs -- it's not like the shitty sampler cds you get with a lot of magazines.

I can't even tell you how much awesome music Rob and I have been introduced to through Paste over the last few years -- I've been a devoted reader since 2004, and I can name at least 10 favorite bands that I would never have heard about were it not for Paste. Maybe -- maybe -- I would have discovered them some other way, but I don't see how.

So I was annoyed at this blogger. And it wouldn't have been so incredibly annoying if it hadn't kept up for an entire week, with her commenting back to almost each and every one of her commenters, and iterating over and over how snobby the list is and how it "really misses the mark" and how it didn't speak for her at all. And how I made one comment saying I thought she and her husband would probably really like Paste and really like a lot of the music on the list if she gave it a shot, given what I know about her musical taste based on postings she's made on her blog in the past... and how my one comment was the ONLY comment out of about 100 that she didn't personally reply to.

Which is all fine and well -- of course it didn't speak to her. She isn't a reader of Paste. She has no interest in the music they're helping to sell, and has no clue what it is they do or why.

What I took issue with is the "snobby" comment. This is an issue I've always struggled with: If someone says something you like is stupid, they are essentially calling you stupid. Are they not? If someone labels a group of people "morons" and you are part of that group, you have just been called a moron. And if someone says something you're into is snobby, that makes you a snob.

I know there are people out there who don't think about what they say and would deny they ever meant to call someone they actually knew "stupid" by saying "Liberals are so fucking stupid," or meant to call anyone they knew a "snob" by saying that the Paste Magazine Top 50 Albums of the Decade list is "the snobbiest list ever" (a direct quote from the blogger in question). I disagree and I believe it is not my problem that you failed to think through what it is you were really saying. And it is my right to be offended by it.

But what really chapped me about this whole thing -- which I totally get is not a big deal, and I can just stop reading her blog and all that, which I have of course, duhhh -- is that this blog I'm talking about is a commercial blog. It exists so this woman who writes it can sell stuff -- she is a scrapbooker who used to work for Simple Scrapbooks magazine (which, incidentally, you'd think would make her a bit more understanding of the concept that magazines have actual editorial missions), and now she teaches online scrapbooking classes and creates digital scrapbooking content for a digital scrapbooking store, and participates in a number of other online scrapbooking resources, all designed, in the end, to sell a product.

And so I guess I'm just confused, because I sell insurance for a living, and I'm trying to decide what would happen if I called a current or potential customer a snob. For sure, I would lose the customer. Almost for sure, I'd lose my job. So I just think it's really bizarre that this blogger would think it's okay to call one of her customers a snob (and I am a customer, and used to be a fan -- I purchased the books she's written about scrapbooking, and read Simple Scrapbooks mainly for her column, because I had loved her books so much). It makes me see what a pissy person she actually is, and makes me no longer such a fan, and made me cancel my registration for an online class of hers I was going to be participating in soon. It made me delete her blog link from my blog roll; I know no one that would be into her blog really reads this anyway, but I don't want it there, distracting me.

I guess I've just gotten so used to the notion, based on my personal experience, that scrapbookers are generally some of the nicest, most fun, welcoming women on the entire planet. That there's something about scrapbooking that attracts a certain type of person into its most hardcore circles.

Clearly I was wrong. So noted.

Young At Heart

I'm watching this Independent Lens documentary on The Young At Heart Chorus -- the "Glee" of senior citizens, basically. I love this. It's so touching. You know it's risky going into a show like this because most of these people are like in their 80s. So of course one of the favorites dies about halfway through. And then they go sing at a prison and you can actually see on the faces of a bunch of the prisoners that they're getting through -- they're touching them. It's so awesome. The man who passed away was the soloist when they sang Coldplay's "Fix You." I'll never listen to that song the same way again.

Dude, old people are tough as nails. In a good way.

Story

I love Ali Edwards' blog (see link to the right) -- she is a famous scrapbooker who wrote for Creating Keepsakes magazine for many years, and she designs digital scrapbooking images, and she has this awesome blog she uses to encourage others to live artistically. For the last few years, she's been encouraging her readers to select a "Word of the Year" at the start of each year -- basically a word to live by, a word that will kind of guide you and ground you throughout the year, a word that will perhaps remind you of what you think is important, a word that will give you focus.

Oddly enough, until now, I blew off selecting any such word of my own. It was one of those things that seemed like a nice idea but made more sense for other people, not me. You know what I mean? But this year, I gave the notion some thought when Ali challenged her blog readers to think about their word about a week or so ago. And I came up with my word...

Story.

Funnily enough, this wound up being the same word Ali herself chose, and for many of the same reasons I've chosen it. Overall, because telling stories is important to her, and I feel the same way. I also like how she talked about being more aware of the fact that she is a character in the story of her own life, and how she has threads in her story she might like to weave in another direction.

I've been a storyteller as long as I can remember. As a small child, I enjoyed hearing a good story, and eventually learned to tell a good story -- mainly in writing, but sometimes orally as well. I've had so many stories swimming around in my head for so many years. In college, I majored in Creative Writing and was sure I'd spend my life writing novels and stories... but doing that for a living turned out to be harder work than I expected, and I let the writing fall by the wayside. I've started and stopped and started again more novels than I really care to admit... okay, I think 4 at last count. And I've made countless scrapbook albums over the last several years with the intention of adding all this great storytelling to them, only to cave in to expedience and leave them as they are, lacking what they need to become real: the stories behind the photos.

And so part of the reason behind my word choice is inspiration, a reminder to tell the stories that I've promised to tell. That means finishing my unfinished scrapbooks. It means picking up my novels and working on them, eventually finishing them.

And the other part is to live the story of my life with a little more intention, a little more deliberation. Sometimes I think I am way too content to sit back and let things happen, rather than stepping up and making things happen. I would prefer to be the writer of my own story from this point forward, so I am going to make more things happen. I've noticed over the last few months that I've been more willing to do this in certain situations, and it's made life more magical, and a lot more fun. I can't sit by and let someone else control my destiny any longer. I'm going to write my own story, thank you very much.

I can't wait to see where this leads me. At the very least, it will lead me into a better mindset, one I've been heading toward for several months now. It's exciting.

Maybe on December 31st, I'll write a story here about what a great year we had, instead of being glad to see it go.

Christmas Hangover

I'm not surprised that I got bored by the daily "journal your Christmas" prompts halfway through -- they started getting really redundant, and my decision to actually blog them was a mistake... I think they were intended to be pondered over more deeply than I usually do for a blog entry, but I hoped that blogging them would at least get me started, so I could then transfer them into my scrapbooks later.

So I have Christmas hangover this morning. That feeling of, "That's it??" Nothing a little spending of gift cards won't cure, though...

My friend Jason has posted his year-end Top 10 singles over at his blog -- you should check it out for some new and different music: http://www.audiofordrinking.blogspot.com/.

What else... not much. We just had the building maintenance guy over here for 45 minutes repairing our kitchen light fixture. He's so bizarre. He was basically throwing a temper tantrum the whole time because he had to come back after putting in new bulbs last week; he didn't put the cover back on properly, and the new bulbs were flickering like strobe lights. Once he finished up today, he was all, "Next time call sooner for new bulbs." Like it was our fault. And then he wanted to stay and chitchat about football and his shitty Christmas.

I'm not sure he's all there upstairs.

O! Christmas Tree

It isn't Christmas if the tree isn't up and decorated.

We tried to skip it last year because we went away for the week after Thanksgiving, which is when I usually decorate the house. By the time we got back to town, it seemed so late, like we'd get it up and it'd be Christmas so soon after and then I'd just have to take it right back down. But it turns out it was depressing to not have it up. It didn't feel like Christmas at all. We were broke, my job wasn't going well, etc. etc. But the minute we finally got the tree up, things started to look up.

And that's the point. The tree isn't for other people to see. It isn't intended to impress anyone. It doesn't have to be fancy, but it's okay if it is. All it needs are some lights. It's your own personal beacon of hope in a world that can sometimes feel really dark.

Write about your favorite holiday movies or shows.

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (the original, cartoon version).

A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Snow (this is one of those cheesy ABC Family movies that came out a few years ago).

The Night They Saved Christmas.

The Brady Bunch Christmas episode.

Prancer.

The Polar Express.

The Holiday (Kate Winslet, Jack Black, Jude Law and Cameron Diaz).

Love, Actually.

Holiday Parties

We don't host a holiday party; we just attend the parties of other people. Or make an effort to get together with long-time friends for a meal or whatever. My son's dad hosts a Hanukkah party every year, so we usually go over there for that. My best friend's birthday is the 23rd and most years we do something to celebrate for her -- she likes Indian food and a visit to the Zoo Lights best, but sometimes it's too cold so we've taken all the kids to a movie instead. My friends Rob and Marci from high school have an annual Christmas party at their house and we went this year; it was fun -- lots of kids for The Pook to run around with and lots of old friends to catch up with!

After we moved to Colorado when I was 9, our friends the Leahys down the street always had a party on Christmas Eve, with lots of friends and food and fun. The only year it didn't happen was in 1982, the year of the Christmas blizzard, but we were able to go over anyway since we were just two doors away. I loved those Christmas Eve parties. In fact I would go so far as to suggest that sometimes, they were more fun than actual Christmas morning! I know that's crazy... you know how much I love presents...

Holiday Lights

When I was little, really little, after Christmas Eve service at church, my dad would drive us around town to look at Christmas lights. It would be the four of us -- eventually the five of us -- snuggled into our little car, looking for the best lights and the best decorations. Back then, people didn't get too crazy with the decorations, but there were always houses that were more lavishly decorated than others. Those were my favorites. Lots of colored lights, maybe a plastic Santa and reindeer.

And now that I'm a lot older I find that I love the houses where the people go all out and make a complete spectacle of their holiday lights. The whole point behind the "Holidays of Light" is that humans have always looked for a way to light up the darkest days of the year, and turned to annual rituals to do so. Christmas lights on houses are part of these rituals. My feeling, as someone who gets a little depressed by the dark days, is "the lighter, the better." And so it cheers me to see a house where the lights are nutty and overdone; I love that people do up their houses just to cheer up other people. I love to visit the Denver Zoo for the Zoo Lights; this year we're going to try the Botanic Gardens, which we've seen from the highway a few times and looks quite beautiful.

So my favorite holiday sight is the lights. I love it when I look at the lights of the city this time of year and they're brighter than usual.

What is your favorite Christmas book?

I have enjoyed many Christmas books over the years -- The House Without a Christmas Tree. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. The Gift of the Magi. A Christmas Carol. They're all great. But what I'm really, really a sucker for is lavish illustration and a cute story. So my very favorite is Jan Brett's The Wild Christmas Reindeer. It's about a little elf girl who is charged with prepping Santa's reindeer for the Christmas Eve voyage, but the reindeer don't want to cooperate. She learns how to be more patient and gentle, and the reindeer are ready on time.

I could look at the artwork in Jan Brett's books for hours. It's very Norwegian and colorful. There are all kinds of hidden details, including side panels featuring Hedgie the hedgehog looking for a cozy winter home or something like that. My son and I love Hedgie. Jan Brett visited his school when he was in kindergarten and gave all the kids a little beginning reader book about Hedgie.

Anyway, if you're looking for something to read with your kids for Christmas, Jan Brett's book are the best.

Write about the significance of at least one of your items of holiday decor.

Most of my holiday decor takes the form of Christmas tree ornaments. I have so many that are significant and cherished more than others -- see previous entry about all the stuff my son has made for our tree. And then my Mom gives me ornaments every year in my Christmas stocking, and the ones she gives me are particularly cherished. And then there are the ornaments I pick up when we travel, which is something I just vowed to begin doing a handful of years ago, so I don't have a ton yet. What we do have: a gold glass ball ornament with an Inukshuk painted inside of it that we got in Canada last time we went up; and a giant red glass Mickey Mouse head with Mickey clothes painted on it that we got at Disney World last year.

A few years back my Mom gave me some little glass ball ornaments with white snowy owls painted on them -- Hedwig from Harry Potter, essentially. I love them. Oh, and my favorite ornament is this little purple "love bus" I picked up at a Christmas store on the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder a few years ago. It has flowers and peace symbols and hippie stuff on it; it's Dept. 56. I love it and always have to find a very prominent spot on the tree for it.

We also have a little statue of Mickey Mouse dressed as Santa that my Mom bought for Daniel the year the three of us went to Disney World together, to remind him of what a great time she had with him there. That's a special piece too. It's by my favorite Christmas artist, Jim Shore. He does folk art painting on wood figurines, in bright colors. We also have a Nativity scene by him that I like to just leave out all year long because it's so lovely.

Honestly? I'd leave the tree up all year long if I thought I could get away with it. And wouldn't have to find a way to dust it.