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Old Movies for Young People

I enjoy watching the occasional old movie. Pre-1960s movies seem to come from an entirely different planet, a place that is technically more primitive, morally more nuanced, and temporally more phelgmatic.

We netflixed Witness for the Prosecution, a suspenseful courtroom drama from 1957 based on an Agatha Christie story, directed by Billy Wilder and starring a sultry Marlene Dietrich. Witness for the Prosecution enthralled me all the way to the surprise-twist ending, which had stunned and delighted audiences when it was released. The advantage of watching it 50 years later is the ending wasn’t ruined for me by an overly-talkative friend. I’m surprised Witness for the Prosecution hasn’t been remade. It does lack any sustained action, violence, sex, or mobsters, but I’m sure the magicians of Hollywood could fix that.

I decided to see what else Netflix had to offer in the classic courtroom drama category. Since I liked Witness for the Prosecution, Netflix was positive that I’d also like Anatomy of a Murder, a 1959 drama starring Jimmy Stewart as an aw-shucks country lawyer who is defending a local army man charged with murdering the barkeeper who raped his alluring, flirty wife.

Anatomy of a Murder moved slow, so slow that I had plenty of spare brain cells to simultaneously follow the plot and analyze how different the movie would be if it were being filmed in 2009. She’d be using a computer… he’d be carrying a cell phone… the train station wouldn’t exist… there would be numerous flashbacks both to the rape and the murder… the jury would have at least 6 black people on it despite taking place in rural Minnesota… instead of having the soundtrack and cameo by Duke Ellington, we’d get Usher.

Every scene featured long conversations with cigarettes and cigars in hand. There were typewriters, bottles of milk by the doorsteps, pinball machines as a town’s sinister entertainment, casual drink driving, and worst of all, a young wife’s tight clothes, sensuous hip movements, and bouncy hair style as justifications for her being raped. How quaint… quaintly barbaric.

I didn’t dig on Anatomy of a Murder as much as Newtflix though I would, and I think the difference may be Marlene Dietrich, whose beauty and poise is truly timeless. Jimmy Stewart doesn’t hold up as well.

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By Meredith – February 11, 2009

From Raw to Thaw

It’s totally against my will that I’m writing about the weather today. But the weather pleaded, begged, cajoled, and frankly sweet-talked its way into my mind’s focus to the exclusion of just about everything else.

The temperature in Boston hit 55 degrees today. Maybe 55 degrees doesn’t sound like any big favor, but one week ago, the daytime high crested 15 degrees, the wind was frigid and nearly everything on the ground was encased in layers of ice and snow. So 55 degrees felt marvelous. Oh, to have warm sun on my bare, unflinching skin!

Though I’d like to put on the stoic face of a rugged New Englander, I’ll admit: This past January was hard. Perhaps if I lived in the secluded state of hibernation that most people adopt in the winter months, I would not have found it so arduous, but to have to walk to and fro the subway with my gloved hands clenched within the pockets of my thick, long, 6-pound winter coat, my chin and neck buried in the collar, my ears tucked under a hat, and my butt perpetually and inexplicably numb… well, frankly, it sucked.

Everyone took a lunchtime walk today. I forgot what sidewalks crowded with smiling people looked like. Hell, I forgot what people looked like when they’re stripped of their winter padding and gear. I forgot what the sidewalks looked like without a foot-high mound of dirty ice flanking the icy foot passage. I forgot what it felt like to walk slow and relaxed, to let the mind wander as far as the feet.

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By Meredith – February 11, 2009

Paul Krugman, the Charming Economist

Tonight Paul Krugman, the Nobel-winning economist and New York Times op-ed columnist, gave a talk in Cambridge, in part to promote the paperback edition of his book, The Conscience of a Liberal, and in part because he’s a liberal God and coming to Cambridge is soothing affirmation of his Holiness. Since the economy is such an interesting and timely topic, and since Krugman’s column in the Times is my only touchstone to the world of economics, and since I happened to be in the Harvard book store the day that tickets went on sale, I decided to go and see Krugman.

I’m suspicious of economists. To my outsider eye, it seems that they either want to privatize everything and allow the invisible hand to ensure compliance, or they are still tweaking Marxist theories and advocating planned economies. Krugman, with his lefty ideals about welfare (loves it) and trickle-down economics (hates it), is an anomaly: An economist who actually agrees with my left-of-center political views, thereby validating that they are financially feasible!

What was obvious from his talk is that Krugman is a very, very clever guy. Quick, articulate, and witty. The quips flew fast and furious:

“When your neighbor loses his job, it’s a recession. When you lose your job, it’s a depression,” he quoted before predicting that unemployment could take 5 years to recover.

“To get us out of this economic mess, we need guys who know where the bodies are buried, but not the guys who buried them there,” he said before offering a doom-laced assessment of Obama’s economic team.

Regarding the stimulus bill, he said it’s only 50% of what it needs to be: “It’s like building a bridge halfway across a river.”

And Krugman is optimistic that China and the rest of the world are only hoping and praying for America’s recovery, because of an old saying: “If you owe the bank $5,000, you’re in trouble. If you owe the bank 1 million dollars, the bank’s in trouble.”

The audience was rolling, which helped cushion Krugman’s dire pronouncement of short-term economic hardship and slim hopes of health care reform.

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By Meredith – February 9, 2009

Color Bind

A new study has linked colors to how we perform cognitive tasks in testing situations. According to researchers, the color red makes people more accurate and the color blue makes people more creative.

Experts theorize that the color red commands greater attention because it evokes a primordial danger instinct, perhaps linked to blood or the intensity of fire. Wouldn’t early man be pleased that their menacing encounters with predatory carnivores, reptiles, and raptors have enhanced our ability to do proofreading and memorization?

While the color red foments mostly negative feelings, the color blue has a positive emotional correlation that may explain its link to creativity. Blue skis and calm waters were conducive to Mr. and Mrs. Homo Sapiens’ tool creation, storytelling, gardening experiments, and brainstorming sessions on how to domesticate horses.

And what of the color green, my personal favorite? The study found green to be comparative to neutral colors when used in test experiments. This surprised me, as I find green to be the most calming, reassuring color because it conjures nature and health. Perhaps that is just my modern interpretation, and not an innate reaction born out of evolutionary necessity. Perhaps the qualities that we value and associate with the color green are fundamentals that our ancestors took for granted.

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By Meredith – February 6, 2009

Googles

Recent favorite search engine phrases from the web logs, including the best one ever: meredith green and adrien brody. And the worst one ever: “meredith green” cancer.

INTERROGATIVE

in what film is a captain bewildered by the death of a calf
boss listened to howard stern is this a hostile environment
who invented biosilk
what is green days email address
what is a jagerette
where can i buy bobaraba injections
will pilates exercise criss cross widen waist
what parable is like noah’s arc
meredith’s light green dress with dark green belt where to buy
did carolyn bessette kennedy have a nose job
is cindy fitzgibbon pregnant again
barbara ehrenreich embraces what personal heritage
how many calories in cosi oven roasted vegetable sandwich
what do we call the lines which strech from pole to pole in a globe
how do they kill braveheart
polar seltzer any caffiene
what happened to oh naturel products walmart
if i ate any sugar treats or sugar frosting cake the day i would wake up with sore throat and coughing phlem

MISSPELLED

puetorican eggnog
skinny drip girl
qubitting
abercrombie and fitch gay models in riped boxers
wind revels cute panties
crystal meth cleaning with carberry juice
case study of a large ratchet wench
candace cameroon
cow grils don’t cry on you tube
barack obama peraide

QUOTATION

“cvs on hold music”
“going to cut off your hair”
“walmart sex”
“don’t break the bottle wooden wine puzzle” solution
the hartford insurance claims rep “rambow”
“chicken drummers” mushy middle
“short men” “corporate ladder”
tim and eric “chunky capiche”
“we have too much leisure” essay
cinnabon “so disgusting”
“olive oil misters”
photos of “men in kilts exposed”
techno song africa “spinning class”
“nixon grade school”
“be a bud sitting quietly”
“what if mozart wrote” “i saw mommy kissing santa claus”
“new kids on the block, wearing abercrombie and fitch”
“meredith green” cancer

NAUGHTY!

gay senior citizens nude
assholes gaped with apples
when you masterbate you kill a cat
busty hills
escort service euphemisms grey suit
fine ass soccer girls
belleville nj white trash married whores
hershey kiss nipples
pictures of men with beautiful breasts

EVERYTHING ELSE

jealous of meredith green
meredith green and adrien brody
chest infection cough luminous green phlegm sweet taste
methacton drug rate
the bothersome beauty of pigeons blogspot
yakuza japantown denny’s
frazzled faces
black cloudies
dj tanners boyfriends
jane pratt physics
kittycat seeks owl for cute sea voyages
children sonification poems
livestoned bracelet
blind dating sighted lovers
sam’s club strawberry shortcake murder version
$500/hour, wind energy generation
bon ton lancome counter pay rate
home cinema rooms bean bags or slob chairs
kids coloring pages of wind turbines
ikea catalogue poland homosexual
one whiff of detergent kill brain cells
endomorphins and leisure
precious moments nativity water globe at walgreens
santa jesus
cryptic clue ideas for secret santa
article on billie joe armstrong’s aversion to deodorant
brethren before wenches
insert armageddonist rhetoric here

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By Meredith – February 5, 2009

Two Nefarious, Hilarious, Burglarious Burglars

The Boston Police Department blog reported an incident in which two men were caught using bolt cutters to steal bicycles from a residential property. The suspects tried to convince the police that they thought the bicycles were “junk” and were not trying to steal anything. The BPD blog wryly comments, “It should be noted that the bicycles were chained and had a combined value in excess of Eight-Hundred-Dollars.” Zing!

My eye caught on one item tucked in the laundry list of criminals charges that the suspects face. In addition to Larceny and Breaking and Entering, the men were charged with “Possession Of Burglarious Tools” for wielding the bolt cutters.

As an avid, frequent employer of adjectives, I am thrilled, charmed, and intrigued to learn a new adjective: Burglarious [ber-glair-ee-uhs]. That’s my new favorite word. Since I sense the opportunity to use “burglarious” will be few and far between, I have begun brainstorming possible usage scenarios. Besides tools, what else can be burglarious?

1. Acts 2. Intentions 3. Investment Bankers 4. Politicians 5. Burglars

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By Meredith – February 4, 2009

Hands Off My Testosterone

“Good news!” Mr. P beamed, walking into the kitchen as I sauteed some red swiss chard in garlic and onions. “Mass General is going to pay me $1000 to be in a medical study, if I qualify!”

“Hmmm…” I said. I had seen the letter addressed to Mr. P with the Massachusetts General Hospital insignia when I got the mail. The envelope evoked suspicion. “What kind of study?”

He began reading from the letter. “‘The study lasts 16 weeks. You will be given an injection every 4 weeks to lower your testosterone level.'”

“Wait, what?” I cried. “No, no, no. No. You are not getting any shots to lower your testosterone. No. Way.”

“But they give some participants a ‘topical testosterone gel.’ And everyone gets a daily pill that ‘prevents testosterone from being made into estrogen.'”

“No way!” I said. “Give me the letter.”

“But babe, it’s $1000!”

I snatch the letter out of his hands. “Good, we’ll have plenty of money to buy you some nice bras.”

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By Meredith – February 3, 2009

And so it is, it’s Groundhog’s Day

This morning at breakfast, while reading Google News, Mr. P teased me about what the locals do for fun on February 2 in my native state of Pennsylvania.

groundhog

“Well, if you lived in Punxsutawney, you’d be bored enough to yank a groundhog out of its hibernation hole and force it to make weather predictions, too,” I say. “Punxsutawney is just down the road from East Bumblefuck, so they’re amendable to engaging in tribal rituals rooted in ridiculous folklore. Did you know that the people of Punxsutawney maintain that Phil the groundhog is immortal? And that Phil speaks to them in some special groundhog language that only they can understand? The rest of Pennsylvania humors them like an adult indulging a child who is playing make-believe.” I take a breath. “Is it any wonder that I moved to Massachusetts? I am too snobby to ever be comfortable in Pennsylvania.”

Obviously I still harbor residual bitterness towards my home state because of the past election, when Pennsylvania had well-publicized difficulty voting for a black man, and I labored to draw distinctions between the more-enlightened urban areas of and around Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, and the rest of Pennsylvania. The town of Scranton has been mythologized in Mr. P’s mind as the epicenter of working-class undecided racists so much so that he perversely demands to visit Scranton every time we go to Pennsylvania, a fancy that I’m tempted to indulge so long as I don’t have to get out of the car.

As I’m walking to the subway, I mentally compose a rant about Groundhog’s Day and then I realized, why waste the effort? Why not just tap into the scathing wisdom of Bill Murray?

“A thousand people freezing their butts off waiting to worship a rat. What a hype.” –Bill Murray, Groundhogs Day

Is it sad that I relate much more to Bill Murray’s character when he’s cynical and nasty, before the space-time continuum glitch transforms him into a warm and generous human being who presumably thinks the groundhog ceremony is one of life’s delights?

“Seer of seers and prognosticator of prognosticators.” And what is it? A groundhog that predicts if winter will continue for 6 more weeks. That’s sort of lame, isn’t it? Wouldn’t a real seers of seers, prognosticator of prognosticators be able to, say, tell us the cure for cancer, break the code of the Voynich Manuscript, or share some hot stock tips?

“I’ll give you a winter prediction: It’s gonna be cold, it’s gonna be grey, and it’s gonna last you for the rest of your life.” –Bill Murray, Groundhogs Day

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By Meredith – February 2, 2009

The Most Romantic 10K Ever

Today we ran the Super Sunday 10K in Boston’s Seaport district (aka the South Boston Waterfront, aka “Hey, when did they replace the warehouses, fish factories, and generalized urban blight with luxury lofts, 5-star hotels, and gourmet restaurants?”)

The race was co-sponsored by Legal Seafoods and the Harpoon Brewery, both longtime residents of the Seaport district. The post-race perks included free clam chowder and beer. Who knew that salty, gritty, shellfishy, creamy goo immediately after running 6.2 miles could be so yum?

Runners could either sign up for a 5K or a 10K. The races started at the same time, but us 10K runners/suckers would do two laps of the course. Before the race, we studied the map and Mr. P pointed out that the course would pass by the site of our first-ever kiss along the Boston Harbor in front of the Courthouse. This prompted a moment of subdued cooing.

I am not fast and I do not have marathon-worthy endurance, but I’m the Queen of Pacing Myself and Knowing My Limitations. Since winter is my dormant running season. I planned to jog easily for the first 3 miles, then see what I had left. So I wasn’t surprised when the race began and dozens of people charged pass me. I knew I’d be seeing some of them again at the end of the race.

supersunday

Mr. P went ahead of me, and I maintained a steady 10-minute mile pace for 3 miles before stepping on the gas. I felt pretty good and began passing people. After mile 4, as I approached the loop around the Courthouse, I spied Mr. P on the other side of the road. He had just finished the Courthouse loop.

“Huh! It’s my babe!” he shouted, and suddenly did a U-turn to run alongside of me.

“What?” I cried. “No! You’ll have to run around the Courthouse again! What are you doing?” But of course I knew what he was doing. We neared the site of our first kiss, and he leaned over and we kissed twice without breaking our stride.

“Go on, go!” I said, and he pulled ahead of me. My wonderful husband ran an extra 1/4 mile just to commemorate our first kiss. Elation seized me and my legs moved without effort, my lungs breathed without struggle, and my entire body warmed to the memory of that cold winter night four years ago, when we stumbled out of a bar to look at the luminous cityscape reflected in the harbor and to lock lips with our destiny.

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By Meredith – February 1, 2009

REI Garage Sale

Today was the quarterly REI Garage Sale, which is a members-only sale of returned and overstocked merchandise at un-freaking-believable prices. For instance, at the Garage Sale last November, Mr. P and I walked away with 2 pairs of backcounty skis and boots, 1 pair of Alpine skis and boots, 2 pairs of high-quality womens hiking boots, and a few random items of clothing, all for about $120. With deals like this, the normally peaceful REI customer will get in touch with his inner stampeding consumerist.

The sale started at 10am and we arrived at 8:40am to get in line. About 40 people were ahead of us. Mostly college kids, all outdoorsy types, placid on the surface but each one salivating at the thought of cut-rate sporting goods, clothes, and accessories. A small group had spent the night camping in a tent to secure the first place in line. One of the campers milled around in cut-off jeans, as if to say “I spent my Christmas break hiking mountains in Alaska, so camping in 15-degree weather in suburban Boston is like a trip to the tropics.”

After securing a place in line, I headed to the neighboring Dunkin Donuts to fetch breakfast. A father and pubescent son walked by with a box of Munchkins. “Dad, what’s going on?” the son asked, staring at the line. “Guess there’s a kayak sale,” the man said in a voice dripping with derision. Damn kayakers!

The line grew and grew until it wrapped around the building. Finally at 9:55am, an REI employee announced that the doors would be opening and then pleaded for calm. Mr. P and I had planned to rush to the shoe section at the back of the store, but the first thing we saw was a pair of Rossignol XC skating skis — the perfect size for me (Retail: around $200 with bindings, Garage Sale: $49.83). Mr. P then grabbed himself a pair of backcountry ski boots and a pair of classic ski boots (Retail: around $70 each, Garage Sale: $15.83 each).

We split up. I happened upon of a table of bags and immediately grabbed 4 of them (a common Garage Sale tactic is to snatch first and look later. It’s obnoxious, but so are the college dudes who hoarded all the snowshoes). I ended up keeping only the Sherpani Vida backpack (Retail: $80, Garage Sale: $12.83). I collect backpacks like other women collect purses. “How many backpacks do you need?” Mr. P asked. “But this one is slightly bigger than my brown backpack, and smaller than my black backpack,” I explain. “And it’s so cute!”

The closest thing to pandemonium at the Garage Sale was at the women’s clothes rack. I waited until the frenzy abated and then found an REI Madrona Jacket (Retail: $129, Garage Sale: $19.83), which bills itself as combining “casual good looks and weather-ready performance for city dwellers and urban adventures.” Windproof at up to 60mph… now that’s a coat for Boston. The discount tag explained that the jacket had suffered “water damage” in the store, but I found no damage. How can a rain jacket sustain water damage, anyway?

Meanwhile, Mr. P found a pair of rechargeable Motorola walkie talkies (Retail: $50, Garage Sale: $18.83) and a pair of slightly-used Asics running shoes (Retail: around $80, Garage Sale $9.83). By then, about 45 minutes after the doors had opened, the Garage Sale was winding down. Everything worth getting had been snatched up. Latecomers picked through the Garage Sale remainders, the weirdly-sized shoes, damaged goods, and white elephants like quilted ear covers, sports-themed Christmas ornaments, and yoga calendars. I got in line with our stuff and Mr. P continued to scavenge the store for deals. And that’s how we ended up with 2 large quick-drying camping towels (Retail: $16 each, Garage Sale: $7.83 each).

How stoked am I? Next Garage Sale, maybe we’ll pitch the tent in REI’s parking lot and get some sweet camping gear.

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By Meredith – January 31, 2009