I’ve mentioned this before; movie companies should pay me a lot of money to review their movies because I love most of ‘em. When my buddy BC and I used to review movies for our University paper, we couldn’t write a bad review if our jobs were on the line (which, of course, they always were, and which also, of course, is why we were asked to stop writing reviews for the paper — “You’re fired,” I believe, were their exact words).

Yet, before we headed out for a surprise trip to the movies with the three little VWs, I had to do a search for the movie and check out the reviews (I was curious, too, about the PG rating).

Every review I read was harsh, and nearly every one of them compared Seinfeld to the comedy shtick he would do on his series a decade ago.

I was sucked into this attitude, unfortunately, and when the movie started, I was looking at the lead bee, voiced by Jerry Seinfeld, as the guy who ran a sitcom about nothing for nearly a decade. I was disappointed. It wasn’t George’s buddy in the black and gold costume. I, like everybody else–for some reason–wanted it to be.

Then I stopped. I realized that wasn’t fair. Fair to Seinfeld, fair to the movie, even fair to me. I don’t get out much anymore to see movies, and so when I do get the chance to see anything–even a movie made primarily for kids (let’s not forget that little fact, folks–this one was for the kids; the PG rating was given for a short scene where two adults were smoking…that’s about it), I don’t want to spend the time thinking critically how bad it might be. All I want to do is enjoy myself.

And that’s just what I did. I let go of Jerry the sitcom king and enjoyed Bee Movie for what it was: an entertaining, visually stunning movie made for a younger audience, with a nice run of subtle jokes that the moms and dads could appreciate as well. It was never Jerry’s intention to do an encore episode; to assume so only cheats you out of a pretty fun experience.
Now, there were some agendas that seemed to be running under the conflict (these, of course, went completely over the younger heads in the auditorium, but that’s nothing new. Try watching some of the Merrie Melodies that we enjoyed so many years ago. When we were kids, we just laughed and laughed and laughed till tears filled our eyes. We never thought about possible allusions to issues concerning racial tensions, international conflicts, or even the threat of nuclear war. We just laughed.

Any commentaries on white guilt, slavery, and cultural diversity that might have been apparent to us in the seats (if they were even intended in the first place) are there for us to do with them as we wish. They weren’t the focal point of the movie, they didn’t disrupt the flow at all, and they didn’t affect the overall quality of the final product. They certainly were invisible to my three children. So what’s the big deal? Writers (including the likes of Dr. Seuss and C.S. Lewis) used writing as a soapbox all the time. Why should directors be held to a different standard?

That’s why I give Bee Movie an A. Forget about the sitcom that’s been off the air for a decade. Think only about a bunch of bees who fight for what they believe is right.

And sometimes, even when you think you are doing the right thing, it’s hard to remember that it’s not always about winning the battle; it’s about understanding the complexities and the effects that are put into action when we fight those battles.

For this movie, leave your battles at home and just go and enjoy the 90 minutes of BEEautiful cinematography, good-natured fun, and humorous dialogue. You won’t be disappointed.

This is a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be.As I continue to work on my Nano book/musical, High School Yearbook, I am pleasantly surprised with its depth in plot and the gentle steer away from stereotyping my leads. When I was planning out the story, I was a little embarrassed with how pop-ish it seemed and how Disney-esque the whole story line felt. Some of my students (for those who don’t know, I teach high school and advise our school’s yearbook team) wanted it to be exactly like High School Musical, where I would write more of a fan fiction piece than an original story. This would have been easy to do, of course. Just watch the movie and plug in “yearbook” every time they said musical. Change a few of the names, and you are set.But I knew that, by doing any such thing, I would be compromising my own vision of this story; I would fall into that trap of reinventing the wheel and wasting my time on something that would never, could never get published.So I broke every rule and did not study the tapes.

Yes, I confess. I am writing High School Yearbook, and I have never watched High School Musical.

I get the main idea, though, and I’m running with it, using every stitch of previous knowledge I’ve gained about working with yearbook teams over the past 20-plus years. What I’m realizing is that these teams that I’ve worked with are micro-dramas capturing all that is real to the rest of us, regardless of our age. The concepts of love, fitting in, doing your best, and working together are universal themes that, even if you’ve never worked on a yearbook team, you can relate, even if you’ve found yourself on the other end of any of these concepts.

Maybe that’s what is so fun about this: I’m writing about you, about me, about the rest of the world, and I’m having the time of my life doing it.

I feel like Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein, though I just got all my hair chopped off today and I can’t do that mad laugh that he does so, so well.

All else, though, applies. Me -n- my Mac, we’re Puttin’ on the Ritz.

Here’s the background: I bought my G4 Titanium Powerbook at the end of the first week in October of 2001. It was a brisk autumn afternoon, and I remember leaving with my new Powerbook, clutching it as if it were the baby that would be born to us just two weeks later.

Madelyn just turned six, and as she now dances ever-so freely and innocently in this early evening, this eve before we finally turn our clocks back an hour, I write this entry on my Powerbook, a loved and worn friend resembling the Velveteen Rabbit more than anything else. The sound doesn’t work, the cd drive is cracked but usable, the firewire port is no longer on fire, and the battery has long since overheated and sports black singed marks where it just couldn’t give anymore.

It includes a 10-gig hard drive (stop that snickering!). Yet, I have successfully resuscitated it with a gig and a half to spare. I’ve got my essential software loaded, and a core 37 songs on iTunes that, when I twist the earbuds just right, I can hear Dylan, Zep, and Jerry G reminding me that the music never stops, and every little thing’s gonna be all right.

I just ordered the brand new battery pack, the one that I should have received for free when the recalls went out years ago. I saved nearly $50 on eBay (reliable seller; otherwise, I would have never taken the chance), and it should be here by Wednesday.

I’ve priced portable external hard drives, and i can get a fine 120-gig Iomega portable drive for $129, which I’ll get in the next week or so. It’s got a USB drive, so I don’t have to worry about the fire-less firewire…

This, I hope, will last until Madelyn begins 1st grade next August, when I’ll have the money to get my new Powerbook.

But that will be a bittersweet moment for me. It will be nice to have all the new technology, the DVD-R drive, the 17-inch laptop screen, and all the speed and space I’ll ever need to write and design. What I will mourn, though, is the passing of this old laptop, my friend, my brother-at-my-side since before my daughter was born. We have been through over 75 original pieces of writing that have found their way in print, and countless other ideas that continue to develop on and off this screen. We have spent marathon writing sessions in myriad coffee houses and cafes, learned of breaking news–both good and horrific–as it developed online, and of course, shared my life as it unfolded as well with all of you in this blog.

I hope my laptop, my friend, holds up until next August. He is as a part of my muse as my daybook, and I look forward to this Swan Song Run for the next 10 months as I work on another book, share my life with you, and celebrate life as I’ve never celebrated it before.

First, my kudos to Carl for his incredible R.I.P. Challenge that concluded this week. I am deeply sorry that I did not participate more by posting about the readings. Carl, you got me reading nonetheless, and I thank you for that. Keep up the great work, Friend. You inspire many.

Second, I’m done committing myself to any Challenges online for awhile. I keep trying to do these things, and I keep falling way, way short.

Third, as if this seems foolish to write after I just said no more challenges, I’ve begun my third annual NanoWriMo challenge, which is to write a book during the month of November. Believe it or not, I was successful in my previous two attempts (and the first year’s fruit, Journey to Cold Rock, will be released in March 2008–pushed back a little because of some last-minute necessary revisions). I had planned on writing a serious, deep novel about a person who learns he has a gift to heal, but I opted for the much less serious, more superficial book that spins off of High School Musical and is aptly called, High School Yearbook. I’ll post excerpts here whenever I get excited enough about a particular passage or chapter. So…stay tuned!

Fourth, I’m Back on my Mac! It’s old, it’s taped together, but it WORKS, and now that I figured how to be a little creative with Comcast, I should be back online more regularly. . .

woohoo!
Fifth, more meaningful stuff to come later tonight/tomorrow. Just had to share the good news that I’m finally back with a computer in front of me! WooHoo!!!!!