In Honor of President's Day

Cupcakes, folks. The entire thing is made of cupcakes. Personally, I don't think Abe ever looked so sweet. President Obama is on the left.

Figures.

Go here to see the progress.

And the winner is...

I decided to stay with Verizon. So I upgraded to their iphone wannabee, the Voyager. Must say, I'm loving it. Oh, sure, it lacks all the applications that are available with the iphone, but honestly, I can't remember the last time I had to tune my guitar or find a sushi restaurant. I think I can learn to live without a few bells and whistles.

...at least until the next time I get to upgrade.

Woovie Critic II

This is Coraline. Sarah and I took the boyos to see it today. It was much much better than, say, running to the car in the icy rain or skidding on the wet sidewalk in your flipflops. I did both of those today, too. Coraline was better.

It's based on a book by Neil Gaiman, and you can read an excerpt here. I had never read the book, but from what I have read in these excerpts, the film follows it fairly closely. Coraline is loved but generally ignored by her workaholic parents. They have recently moved into an old house which has been made into apartments. They share the house with some delightful, quirky characters...two former actresses and their Scottie dogs, and a Russian circus performer who is attempting to establish a mouse circus. One day, while exploring their 150-year-old house, Coraline discovers a small door. In the way of all things mysterious, the door leads to another apartment, identical to her own, inhabited by identical parents (with the single exception that their eyes are buttons.) This Other Mother and Other Father spend all their time with the attention-starved Coraline, playing games, making her favorite dishes, and causing her to feel special and important and loved. They offer her the opportunity to stay with them always, but the hitch -- there's always a hitch, right? -- is that she has to allow them to sew buttons over her eyes. Drama ensues.

The movie is typical Tim Burton. The bad guys are all spindly-legged and spidery. There are Edward Scissorhands moments, and Corpse Bride moments and Willy Wonka moments (not the good Gene Wilder version; the creepy Johnny Depp one). Once the Other Mother revealed her true identity, C-Monkey (nearly 7) got scared. Mr Roboto, who is almost 10, denied being scared, but he's just ever so-o sophisticated, he'd never admit it if he were.

There were some weird things, too. Like a neighbor boy who, for no particular reason, had a hunched back and a Black grandmother. There is a circus scene with a very fat lady bouncing around wearing -- I kid you not! -- sequined pasties and a g-string. Maybe those things are right out of the book, but in the movie they were not explained, and only provided a couple of "Wait, what?" moments.

I loved the first half of this movie. It was quirky, melancholy, and sweet. I enjoyed watching Coraline build relationships with her odd neighbors. It was sad to see her parents ignore her to the point of driving her away. Even her initial discovery of The Other Parents was a fun twist, and it was a joy to see how they valued her. The second half of the film was pretty dark. I don't like seeing kids in danger, and I sure don't like seeing dead kids (oh, yes; three of them). It irritates me when kids talk like grown-ups, and although there was no PG13 language in the movie, there were several occasions when Coraline said, "Oh my God." We don't allow our kids or sub kids to say that, so it was very uncomfortable to hear it from a little girl I had grown to care about.

I have mentioned before that I see A LOT of animated films. I am often drawn into the actual animation...especially the little things like rain drops or animal fur. There is a scene in which Coraline is wearing flannel pjs, and they were so fuzzy! I found myself mesmerized by the fuzz, and wishing I could ask my friend John, Visual FX Guy Extrodinaire, about it.

So my recommendation? Don't take any little kids. Too scary. Too sad. Too many kids in peril, kids hurt, kids threatened, kids dead. I'd say, maybe 8 would be the youngest. And even then, I'd recommend some prep work and some debriefing time.

I mean, come on: sequined pasties?

To i or not to i

This was my first cellular phone. I got it for my birthday about 75 years ago. It was battleship grey, weighed 20 pounds, had a battery life of 10 minutes, and each phone call cost $27.50. But it was a gadget, and I love gadgets. I was one of a handful of people who carried a phone in my purse, and could call from anywhere (within the coverage area of just over 3 blocks.) Verizon was known back then as AirTouch. We fell in love fast and hard, AirTouch and I. I hauled around that original phone for two years, until my first upgrade, which was smaller, faster, lighter, cheaper... Each time I upgraded, I needed more. More features. More colors. More style. By now I was a junky, hopelessly addicted to the tech.

This is my phone now. As Randy Jackson would say, "It's aiight." It will send and receive calls and texts, takes decent photos like this, and offers all the bells and whistles I have been told I need, like games and music and a GPS navigational system. It has online capabilities. It's orange. It's cute. I should love it. I should.

But it's not an iphone. I'm really longing for an iphone. I want a phone with it's own theme song. I want applications that tell me when to feed the dog and how to do the Running Man. I want touch screens and mp3 players and a shiny shiny chasis.

I can't leave Verizon; I have a family plan which enables my four kids to have their phone service for $10 a month. And our plans are all up at different times, so even if we all switched to ATT&T, it'd cost us a fortune in early cancelation fees. Plus, they'd all think they were entitled to iphones, too. And they'd whine about it until they all got their own. Selfish brats.

There are wars and famine and drought. My home state is facing a financial crisis The Terminator can't bust us out of. But this is what I've chosen to worry about: I'm discontented with my phone.

What a sad, sad little person I am.

Corn Pop Trees

Every February these trees burst into bloom. The streets are lined with them, and they are glorious. In a few weeks, they begin to lose their blossoms, and we have "snow" in Riverside. When Bethany was little, she called these corn pop trees, because as I mentioned here, she liked to twist her words. When we drove down the street she would announce every single tree: "corn pop tree, corn pop tree, corn pop tree" for blocks and blocks. Every year I think I'll get her one for her birthday, but by the time her birthday comes at the end of April, the blossoms are gone, along with my memory of how beautiful they are. Plus, if I went to the nursery and asked for a corn pop tree, I doubt they'd be able to help me.

Do you know the name of this tree? They are similar to crepe myrtles, but the blooms are different. If you know what the trees are called, please comment below for me.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Prepare the taste buds and the stretchy sweat pants. It's pie sale time again.

cherry, berry, peach, apple, rhubarb, french apple, apple lite, blueberry, razzleberry, razzleberry lite, pecan, lemon meringue, custard, chocolate cream, chocolate meringue, chocolate satin, kahlua cream cheese, german chocolate, key lime, lemon cream cheese, double cream lemon, double cream blueberry, coconut cream, coconut meringue, cream cheese

$6.99 + pie tin deposit

Now, I must say, I don't understand folks bringing back their stash of pie tins during the pie sale. The pies are already discounted. Seems to me it's better to save the pie tins for when the pies are NOT on sale. No matter; we'll happily take them any time.


Go get 'em.

The Woovie Critic

Title explanation which has absolutely nothing to do with the post: When she was little, my youngest daughter had the cutest way of twisting her words. Because she was the baby, we all thought it was adorable, and adopted her diction as our own. We all said "ho-mock" and "corn pop" and "poop dog" and "gee-tow" with her because, gosh darnit, she was just so stinkin' cute. (Her Kindergarten teacher was not amused.) Anyway, she would say "woovie" instead of "movie", and it just stuck with us.

And now, the actual blog post:

Because I'm the grandmother of two little boys, I tend to see a LOT of kids' movies. It's a joy to take my boyos, and watch them watch. Especially now that C-Monkey can actually sit through an entire film without feeling the need to explore the theater from beneath the seats. And occasionally, Mr. Roboto has been able to make it through with only one or two trips to the bathroom. We see every one of the PG or G rated films...some more than once. Animated, fantasy, and those live-action movies with big name stars who used to be famous actors but are now too old for the chick flicks or action adventures, and have found themselves playing the parents of teeth-gratingly annoying children.

I call this "Nap Time for Grammie".

Oh, I've enjoyed a few of them. Kung Fu Panda held my attention. Some of the Pixar stuff is wonderful, and I kind of resent the plot and artwork cutting into my sleep pattern. Last summer's kid fare was just awful for me, as I ranted about here and here.

Yesterday, because I had worked hard at home, and deserved a nice 100 minute nap, I took the guys to see Hotel for Dogs. Have you seen this heart-warming tale? It's about a couple of siblings who have been battered around by the Evil Foster System, and are not candidates for adoption because they are 10 and 16...no longer cute little puppies. (get it? get it? That's just one of the subtle hidden messages in the film)

The story begins with Bruce, the 10-year-old, putting heavy stones into empty cell phone boxes, using the hot air hand dryer at school to shrink wrap them, and passing them on to his sister Andi to sell as new to the pawn shops. Now, I'm quite old, and not up to date on all the hip new jargon the kids use these days, but in my day we called that 'fraud'. Were these kids punished? Not so much. They did go to the police station, but their social worker (Don Cheadle, who used to be a famous actor) got them out on the legal defense of being Adorable Well-dressed Orphans Stuck in the Evil Foster System. Because then theft is quite ok, and there are no consequences for illegal actions. Oh, I see.

The foster parents are Carl and Lois Scudder (Lisa Kudrow who used to be a famous actress), They are scum o' the earth rockers who keep the kitchen cabinets padlocked, and feed the kids twice a day because that's all they're legally required to do. Cereal in the morning and tv dinners at night. Carl and Lois are working hard to perfect their sound; they're going to hit it big. You know without having seen the movie that they are just wretched. Really, a metal version of Smelly Cat would have been an improvement. So the kids are completely on their own to wander the streets. They come across an abandoned luxury hotel which they take over, and commence to appropriate as a home for dozens and dozens of strays. Adding Breaking and Entering to their rap sheet. The Despicable Empire of Animal Control shows up here and there, but the kids always thwart their attempts to capture the strays...once, with the obligatory kick to the crotch.

The kids are gorgeous and brilliant; the adults are caricatures; the stray dogs are all purebreds; the hotel was abandoned but miraculously still has all the furniture and even some clothing left behind by guests; blah blah blah; villains, separation, orphanages, sadness, blah blah, dogs on the loose, blah blah multiple traffic accidents, heroes, redemption, adoption by the good guy, curtain.

It was Home Alone all over again. I hated Home Alone.

Bottom line: The boys LOVED this movie, and me? I liked it a whole lot more than Bride Wars.