Monthly Archives: February 2011

Groundhogs, The Bachelor and male pattern baldness.

Posted on by
Certain special days do not translate well for everyone.  For example, Robbie Burns Day – does anyone who is not of Scottish heritage really want to eat haggis and listen to bagpipes?  I’m half Scottish and I certainly don’t want to – or President’s Day, which does not carry over very well to countries that are not the United States.  Groundhog Day does not really apply to this part of the country.  I understand that there are pagan, weather-lore, and even Catholic and Protestant Epiphany-based roots that contribute to Groundhog Day, but we all know that it simply does not apply if one is living in Calgary, as I am.
It’s amusing, though, because Calgarians WANT to participate in Groundhog Day, despite the fact that no groundhogs would ever live here and anyway it would be supreme animal cruelty to make one come out of its den in this climate to observe its shadow, and so there is someone whose job it is to dress up like a groundhog:
Photo from balzacbilly.com

Occasionally I will succumb to a severe lack of judgment, which is what happened the other night when I watched five minutes of the Bachelor.  The Bachelor is one of those cultural phenomena that seems to indicate society’s downfall.  It is, arguably, one of the worst anti-feminist piece of entertainment around.  Just the concept is terrible: women desperately competing to win the attention of a man and/or kickstart a modeling and/or reality television career.  It is one of the saddest things ever, and the fact that I watched a piece of it is sadder still, although I still believe that from a lemons-to-lemonade standpoint, a drinking game wherein viewers have a shot every time the phrase “I feel we have a real connection” is uttered would be the best possible scenario.  Of course, this would probably lead to death or, at the very least, severe alcohol poisoning, so perhaps not. 
But anyway I tuned in for a couple of minutes and discovered two things: a) a woman whose Nascar-racing fiancé – and father of her child – DIED was actually going to drive a Nascar, um, car because it was “something she needed to do”, and b) the bachelor who is currently on the show seems to be one of the stupidest people in the world, and I do not say that lightly. 
Yesterday I heard, and shared, a quote which I thought was funny: “The best way to hide male pattern baldness is to make a shit load of money.”  I thought it was an ironic commentary on the misguided importance placed on material wealth, but I fear I may have inadvertently caused hurt feelings.  NOTE TO MY BALDING MALE FRIENDS: smooches, guys, you all look great.  As a rule, hair is of minimal importance to women, unless of course you are wearing your hair in a mullet, in which case I have nothing further to say.  But if you still think that hair is important in physical attractiveness, then I invite you to observe this man:

Image from reelmovienews.com

So to summarize: hair is not important, but being stupid – as in the current “bachelor – IS.  Groundhog Day is today and Alberta is leading the world in humanely treating groundhogs, by wearing ridiculous costumes.  Happy Groundhog Day!

I never slept through Money Never Sleeps

Posted on by
The boys had a day off of school today, and it went the way such days often go: with happiness distributed like a double bell curve, peaking in the mid-morning while pajamas are still on, bottoming out in the early afternoon, and then peaking again, after some activities instigated by myself, only to start the slippery slope back down again.  Mark has a love-hate relationship with days off: on the one hand, he enjoys the freedom to just play unrushed, but on the other hand he really misses the structure of school.  And I run a pretty structured house, it’s not all hippy-dippy around here; meals are eaten at the same time, bedtime and rising times are kept the same, clothes are still expected to be worn, as opposed to pajamas.  Mark started to spiral downwards right after lunch, becoming irritable and high-needs until I suggested he make Valentines for his class.  Glitter and sticker backings soon overtook the table and happiness reigned once more.
On Saturday night I watched Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, which is remarkable for the sole reason that I watched it in its entirety and did not fall asleep.  I very rarely see the end – or middle – of movies because I generally fall asleep or, alternately, get bored and start reading, which means I have a very fuzzy view of most films released in the past ten years.  For example, the other night my husband was watching the movie Blow, which we had seen together a few years ago.  I watched a bit with him, unable to remember how it ended, only to discover that it has a very sad ending.  I watched the final scene with tears running down my face, while my husband reminded me that the man in question was a hardened, criminal drug lord, even if it was sad his daughter never visited him in prison.  It is surreal watching movies that you know, intellectually, that you have seen before but can only remember small snippets of.  The last movie I saw in a theatre was Pirates of the Caribbean Part Two, and I slept through nearly the whole thing, waking occasionally to see that weird guy with a squid head and a scene where Captain Jack was being chased around an island.  Although I may have dreamed that part.  Was Johnny Depp naked?  And feeding me grapes?  No?  Then I guess I dreamed it.
But Money Never Sleeps was an excellent movie; I would highly recommend it, especially if you are interested in financial markets.  If you aren’t, then I wouldn’t recommend it at all.  It was a very interesting and entertaining view of the 2008 market correction, and I found myself strangely attracted to Michael Douglas, which is nothing short of disturbing given that he is a senior citizen.  Evidently I’ve turned into my mother, who has always thought that Sam Elliott is the bee’s knees, and my response would be “Oh GOD, Mother, he is so OLD, how can you LIKE HIM?”  Well now.
My husband also loved Money Never Sleeps, which is not surprising given that the original Wall Street was a “motivating” movie for him.  Yes, my husband found Wall Street, greed is good, to be “motivating”.  I am not sure how I feel about that, but I guess it’s better than Rocky, or something of that genre.  Although a guy I once dated used to watch Rudy as a motivational movie.  He used to get so choked up in the part where the teammates bring their jerseys in “It’s for Rudy, Coach.”  I remember laughingly telling that story to a male co-worker, then noticed that HE was getting teary eyed as I talked about Rudy finally getting to play.  All of which is to say I just don’t understand.