Ratatouille: A Cinematic Treat

One thing about having kids in the house is that adults can indulge the little kids in them by engaging in child’s play, a sort of “free pass” to being child-like without being childish. Watching movies clearly designed for kids is one of those indulgences, and Ratatouille fit the bill last night.

Made by the same people that brought the world The Incredibles and Monsters, Inc., Ratatouille is a CGI-fest set in epicurean Paris, where a little rat named Remy (voiced by comedian, Patton Oswalt) dreams of the culinary life. Guided by apparitions of Gusteau (voiced by Everybody Loves Raymond’s Brad Garrett)– the Emeril Lagasse of Paris who recently passed away from despair over losing one of his restaurant’s five stars– the rodent discovers his talent for cooking and soon finds himself in a position where such abilities are put to use. The challenge, of course, was how can a rat be accepted in the gourmet world? Enter Linguini (voiced by Lou Romano), the heir apparent to Gusteau who, unfortunately, does not possess any of his late-father’s skills. The pair soon develops a method to bring Remy’s recipes come to life.

Like any “feel good” good story, there always has to be a villain and a love interest. The bad guy is in the character of Skinner (voiced by Sir Ian Holm), Sous Chef to Gusteau, whose plans for the expansion of the late-chef’s business does not include his former boss’s newly-discovered son. Janeane Garofalo lends her voice to the character of Colette, the only female chef in the famous restaurant’s kitchen, who was tasked by Skinner with Linguini’s orientation in the kitchen after the former “garbage boy” was mistaken for a chef due to Remy’s fateful involvement. And, naturally, Colette and Linguini fall in love.

The nearly two-hour film was engaging in both its visual characteristics and story development that almost any kid would love it. This big kid certainly did.

Wii!

I played Wii for the first time on Saturday night and it was hecka fun! I always doubted how physical it could possibly get, thinking that the oversensitive controllers may be easy to fool with simple gestures that could simulate the required movements, but I was dreadfully mistaken. There was a swimming game, in particular, that was particularly ineffective unless you truly put some elbow grease into it. I’m pretty sure that our nosy neighbors had quite a laugh looking at us from the outside.

The coolest thing about the Wii is that anyone of any fitness level can feel good about participating in “sports” in a safe virtual environment. Of course, it’s not meant to replace the real thing, but it’s certainly a far cry from simple button pushing, as most of the movements require full arm actions. Hand/eye coordination can also greatly improve from many of the games, like the target practice and skeet shooting. But plenty– such as the “cow racing” game– are just downright fun.

The Wii is now being used in injury rehabilitation. I’m sure that as more games are developed in the future, some will be specifically designed for this purpose. It would be another step closer to truly putting the player inside the game.

Fake Laughter: Is It Even Worth It?

Do you know people who have (or seem to have) fake-sounding laughs? I’m at this coffee shop right now (I left Starbucks a couple of hours ago) where the barista clearly does a fake laugh at everything. I suppose when you’re in customer service, and you want to (appear to) be agreeable with your customers, you would force yourself to laugh at their lame jokes. In my years of customer service, I know this for a fact. However, I also happen to know that I don’t have a fake laugh. In fact, I find nearly everything humorous and genuinely laugh at/with people.

The thing is, people who have fake laughter– whether they realize it or not– are downright annoying. You’d have to be a moron to not realize someone is fake laughing at your version of a joke. I mean, I can understand fake laughter from an actor on stage, TV, or screen, because it’s called for. But in real life? It’s excruciating. In my opinion, fake laughing should be banned. I know some pretty unfunny poeple and make it a point never to fake-laugh when I’m around them. For one thing, I don’t want to unnecessarily empower them into believing they are funny when they’re not. For another, I just don’t want to be unfair.

So anyway, this barista is really irritating me right now. I think I’ll finish my tea and get the hell out of this place before I get fake-laughed to death.

Shopping at Macy’s

For Christmas, I received a $30 USD Macy’s gift card from a cousin, which I thought was a very sweet gesture. Yesterday, I finally drummed up the courage to use it. It’s been forever since I’ve gone shopping in a department store, let alone shopping for non-Nike apparel. Past experience told me, however, that the gift card wouldn’t go for too much in a store like Macy’s, despite the Presidents Day “sale” the department store was boasting. So, I thought I’d purchase some everyday essentials, like socks and underwear, rather than the leather jacket that I spied as soon as I got to the Men’s section of the store.

A very nice lady assisted me at the register. She asked, “Did you find everything that you were looking for?” My sarcastic bone immediately kicked in and I wanted to respond with, “Well, I was looking for love in all the wrong places, but I didn’t find it.” Instead, I simply replied, “Yes.” She proceeded to scan the three pairs of socks and two pairs of boxer shorts that I bought. She obviously had a penchant for small talk, so she said, while pointing at the boxer shorts, “These are wonderful choices.” I regarded the lady– she looked about seventy, and pretty in that nursing home kind of way– and I came to the most logical conclusion: she was hitting on me. Therefore, I said the first thing that came to my mind, “You should see them on me,” I said with a wink.

The lady stopped mid-scan and simply stared at me. I thought, Oh, great. I’ve just sexually harassed this nice lady and will now need to be escorted out of the store. Thankfully, she let out a hearty chuckle, and said: “You need to work on your pick-up lines, young man.” I grinned and took joy in the fact that she got my poor excuse for comedy, and patiently waited while she dutifully wrapped my undergarments in tissue paper. She placed them in the trademark Macy’s plastic bag, handed it to me, and genuinely said, “Thank you kindly.”

Thank you kindly. Who says that anymore?

Top Ten U.S. Presidents of All Time

In honor of this Presidents Day Weekend, I wanted to share this list of the Top Ten U.S. Presidents of all time as ranked by political science scholars.

1. Abraham Lincoln
2. Franklin D. Roosevelt
3. George Washington
4. Thomas Jefferson
5. Theodore Roosevelt
6. Woodrow Wilson
7. Harry S. Truman
8. Andrew Jackson
9. Dwight D. Eisenhower
10. James K. Polk

As for the U.S. Presidents who were in office since I was born, here are their rankings:

15. Ronald Reagan

21. Bill Clinton

22. George W. Bush

25. George H. W. Bush

27. (tie) Jimmy Carter

27. (tie) Gerald Ford

32. Richard Nixon

In terms of the “Worst President in U.S. History,” the current one seems to top that list according to Rolling Stone, the Washington Post, among others, including Dawn (Pakistan’s English-speaking newspaper).

Whoever ends up replacing GWB come November, I wonder how he or she will rank when all is said and done.

Lucky Thirteen: My Life Without Coffee

I’ve rolled into Day 13 of my coffee-free existence. Right now, I’m at a Starbucks (I know, blech!) because (a) it’s cold outside, (b) my favorite coffee shops weren’t open yet, and (c) I find it more comfortable to blog while outside of the house. Plus, it’s cold outside. Anyway, I’m drinking a venti, two-bag, mint Tazo hot tea. (Geez, and I thought my days of ordering multisyllabic beverages were over.) You know what’s funny? I went up to the counter, ordered hot tea, and was promptly interrogated like a crime suspect. “What flavor would you like?” “What size drink would you like?” “Would you like one or two bags?” “Would you like a jacket for your cup?” “Would you like a copy of your receipt?” I was waiting for them to offer me crumpets with my tea. Alas, they didn’t.

Saturday Pic Picks // 02.16.08

© 2005-2008, JonSquared Productions

Have You Pandora’d Lately?

A coworker of mine introduced me to Pandora, and now I am hooked. Pandora is an internet “streaming” radio that you can customize to play the music you like. Here’s what it stays on their “About” page:

The Music Genome Project®

On January 6, 2000 a group of musicians and music-loving technologists came together with the idea of creating the most comprehensive analysis of music ever.

Together we set out to capture the essence of music at the most fundamental level. We ended up assembling literally hundreds of musical attributes or “genes” into a very large Music Genome. Taken together these genes capture the unique and magical musical identity of a song - everything from melody, harmony and rhythm, to instrumentation, orchestration, arrangement, lyrics, and of course the rich world of singing and vocal harmony. It’s not about what a band looks like, or what genre they supposedly belong to, or about who buys their records - it’s about what each individual song sounds like.

Since we started back in 2000, we’ve carefully listened to the songs of tens of thousands of different artists - ranging from popular to obscure - and analyzed the musical qualities of each song one attribute at a time. This work continues each and every day as we endeavor to include all the great new stuff coming out of studios, clubs and garages around the world.

It has been quite an adventure, you could say a little crazy - but now that we’ve created this extraordinary collection of music analysis, we think we can help be your guide as you explore your favorite parts of the music universe.

We hope you enjoy the journey.

Tim Westergren
Founder
The Music Genome Project

The way it works is that you enter an artist’s name and Pandora not only searches the songs by that artist, but also then compiles and sets in random play “similar” artists/music, therefore giving you what you want to hear. The best thing about this is finding out about artists and their music that I never would’ve discovered through traditional means.

Driving and Riding: Second Strange Dream This Week

Okay, I must be sleeping really well these days to be dreaming so much. I had another odd dream last night. Though not as vivid as the one I’d had earlier in the week, this one was just as confusing.

In this dream, I did a lot of driving. I’m in my SUV and seemed like I had a destination in my head but it wasn’t necessarily revealed to me exactly where it was, only that I needed to get there. I took roads that were familiar to me although, to my knowledge, they weren’t any stretches of road that I’d seen before, at least not in any of the cities that I’ve lived in my past nomadic life. There was one area in particular that had crisscrossing overpasses and underpasses when I recalled thinking: “If I took that highway, I’ll get there. But if I took that highway, I’ll get there, too.” Again, I don’t think I ever found out where “there” was. I do recall a couple of times when I had the SUV running idle, and I was in the driver seat looking at something. I could only assume it was a map, but I don’t remember now. All I know is that I had that “something” in front of me, and was holding it with both hands.

At another point in the dream, my destination was my sixth grade elementary school. That time, however, I was on a bicycle rather than in my SUV. The scene started with me rounding a corner where there was a Chevron gas station, which had an autobody shop. The street was familiar to me, but I don’t recall it truly existing anywhere in reality. When I passed the gas station, I knew that I would be going up a steep hill to get to the school. As I was heading up the hill, I found myself struggling and discovered that the front tire of the bicycle had deflated. Grudgingly, I turned around and headed back down the hill toward the Chevron gas station, where I figured there’d be an air compressor machine.

I got there and saw that the machine was inside the autobody shop, which I found odd since, most times, the air compressor machines at gas stations were outside in plain view. Anyway, I rode my bike up to it, and started to help myself. A mechanic walked up to me and, without saying a word, tapped the rear wheel of the bike and said, “This one doesn’t need it.” I thought the comment odd and unnecessary since it was plain to see it was the front tire that needed the air. Anyway, he then writes me an invoice for $2.oo USD, which I assumed was for the air. I told him that I needed to get gas, too, and he said that the pumps were outside. I don’t recall stopping to think why I would need gas for my bicycle when I stepped outside to naturally find that my SUV was sitting out there. That was where the scene ended.

The dream then took me onto a helicopter when I seemed to be a paratrooper. At least, that’s what I assumed. I couldn’t see myself, and was almost just a spectator to the scenes that unfolded. I recall one of the paratroopers had, unfortunately, died, while in mid-jump, and was dangling on the side of the helicopter with his released parachute. The pilot yelled for me to cut him off. The helicopter was shaky and I recalled struggling to my knees and crawling over to the open door on the left, noticing for the first time how the parachute had caught onto some rigging inside the helicopter. I looked out the window and down toward the paratrooper, who swung limply with the movement of the helicopter. When I finally produced a knife with which to cut him down, I noticed that the paratrooper was holding a plate in front of him. I squinted to see what was on the plate, and– I swear to God– it was a plate of uncooked ground beef.

Then I heard my alarm clock.

I don’t think you’d have to be Freud to figure out what certain parts of my dream may have meant, but it was still interesting that my mind chose such imagery to send me subconscious messages. For other parts, however– such as the plate of uncooked ground beef– I am racking my brain trying to comprehend their meaning.

As with my dream earlier this week, this one had rendered me exhausted. I’m struggling right now to find motivation to hit the gym this morning, but I know I must. Sigh. I knew we shouldn’t have had that plate of Truffle Fries at the restaurant last night…

Happy Valentines Day!

Here’s a couple of guys expressing what we all feel: