Bless my agent! She may be the Queen of Rewrites, but she has secured me a nice, big extension on the book. Which reminds me of a quote I saw the other day, which really spoke to me:
"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."
-Douglas Adams
I've received some charming thank you notes in my day, but a hands down winner arrived yesterday from my brother-in-law, heretofore known as The Engineer. The Engineer is one of those Silicon Valley geniuses who specializes in nanotechnology. Never let it be said that these science types lack a sense of humor. To wit:
"Thank you for the Amazon gift certificate which I immediately put to good use by ordering a book I had wanted for a long time: Theory of Cortical Plasticity by Cooper, Intrator, Blais and Showal. I know what you're all thinking: 'Are you nuts?!! How could you have held off for so long in buying the classic exposition of BCM theory? Especially since it includes Matlab simulation code that correlated their theoretical predictions with laboratory experimental results!' Too true - that is very perceptive of you. And now, thanks to you, I have it. It is a real page-turner. Thanks again."
And that is just one of the many reasons I love my brother-in-law The Engineer.
So much hype. Such a disappointment. Can someone please explain to me why "It's Complicated" is billed as a "woman's movie," other than the fact that the director is a woman?
Is it supposed to be some kind of feminist break-through that a middle aged man (Alec Baldwin) actually finds a woman of his own age (the ever-gorgeous Meryl Streep) to be sexually attractive? Wait, wait - there's more. There are two men who want to sleep with her! And Baldwin, who plays her chubby ex-husband, even prefers her to his younger wife with the washboard abs. (Well, technically he's sleeping with both of them at the same time, but no matter, that's just because his voracious young wife is forcing him into fertility treatments.)
And what is so irresistible about his ex-wife, other than the fact that she is hot in bed? (Hotter, actually than she used to be, because as he explains to her she always used to be so tired from raising the kids and working and now she is more relaxed.) Why - she could take wonderful care of him. Unlike his selfish young wife, his ex can roast an amazing chicken, bake a fabulous chocolate cake, and at the same time snatches away the butter out of his hands when she suddenly worries about his health. On top of that, she is a wonderful mother, surrounded by their adorable grown-up children. (The young wife, who we are told has "a big job," has an obnoxious, badly behaved 5-year-old.)
Then there's the fantasy after her date with the other guy (played by a completely flat Steve Martin) - she bakes him chocolate croissants from scratch - merrily laughing all the way, because it is SUCH fun. What a nurturer!
Yuch! Sorry to sound like such a curmudgeon. There were definitely moments I laughed during this movie. But when I left I felt like I'd eaten a lot of junk food. The movie -wrapped in a guise of women's empowerment - was just a lot of very pretty sexist claptrap.
For The Boy's big Christmas present, Santa brought him 4 tickets to a New York Rangers game. As faithful readers know, The Boy is an absolute, die-hard Rangers fan. I have even written in the NY Times about how his room is a shrine to the team, which you can read here.
He used his 4 tickets to take the family to the game, which was really nice, because he could have easily taken friends instead. Walking into Madison Square Garden was amazing. The place is alive and intense, with music pounding out from the jumbotron or whatever the heck that big score board/video player thing is over center ice. Our seats were great. And I didn't feel like a jerk in the huge Rangers jersey I had borrowed from my son - I was one of hundreds decked out in fan gear.
It would have all been perfect, except for one thing. The New York Rangers. They ....well, I won't tell you what the fans were cheering, but let's just say they were really, really, really bad. They lost to the Philadelphia Flyers 0-6. It was ugly. Even the Boy admitted that had he been watching it on TV, he would have turned off the game.
We stayed til the end of course. All in all, it was pretty fun to watch a game live. It would have been even more fun if they had managed just once to get the puck in the net.
One thing I forgot about having The Boy home is that the TV is constantly tuned to sports. Last night, he had a couple of guys over to watch basketball. The night before that it was hockey. The night before that was football. It's not just night time either - if The Boy is in the family room, chances are ESPN is turned on. This time of year, there seem to be a million highlight shows - best plays of the year, best plays of the decade, and that kind of thing. Of course, The Weatherman is in heaven to have someone to watch all these games with.
But I keep remembering what I read once in an Ann Landers column: any man who has watched three consecutive football games can be declared legally dead. Bummer. I loved them so.
"There is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart."
-Washington Irving
I'm still in heaven because the whole family is home. And today one of my fantasies is coming true. My Daughter is working from home - she has reports to write and has to link in to her office network, but does not need to be physically in her office. And since she is visiting, she is working from my home today. Yea!
So the fantasy is parallel play - she is setting up her lap top in my office. She will be at my desk, I will be at a small table nearby in the room. She'll write her report. I'll work on Chapter 3 of the book. We can even edit each other!
This may not sound like a great time to others, but I'm a nerdy writer who loves having my kids nearby, so for me it's bliss.
My Daughter will be home later today and then I'll have the whole family together. Most of our holiday traditions remain unchanged. Despite the fact that the kids are in their 20s, we will still have stockings (the cats each have their own stockings too), The Weatherman will still read "The Polar Express" out loud, My Daughter and The Boy will exchange their gifts tonight in front of the tree. We'll still get up early tomorrow morning and the children (both of whom are considerably taller than I) will wait at the top of the stairs and ask, "Did he come?" Then The Weatherman will say, "I guess you better come down and see."
Then they will clamber down to the living room, where there will be a fire roaring in the fireplace, and - if Santa does come - presents under the tree. Later there will be more family and a big meal.
Hmmm.....some one sounds as excited as her children.....
Recent Comments