Waiting in Slow Motion
The last few days have really been a bummer. Jodi’s mom was admitted to the hospital yesterday and they’ve been running all kinds of tests on her and what not. Nothing to do but sit and wait, which begets a certain feeling of helplessness to all involved. Too hard: to hear her say, “I’m so sad...”
I feel really bad too—I’m so terrible at consolation. I’ve never been one for mouthing empty platitudes, but sometimes there is a genuine need for words of assurance and I find my tongue failing me. And it doesn’t help matters that I’m not much of a “phone person.”
So Crystal (the dog) and I have the run of the house this week. Still don’t know when Jodi will be back. It’s looking to be a bittersweet ringing in of the New Year indeed. I may check that Ghost Buffalo show out, if I feel like it. Or maybe the Antisocial Me will just peep some flicks and hide out in the ‘burbs. We’ll see.
Last night I started catching up on some of those flicks that have clogged up our Tivo for so long. First up: Mystic River. At long last I got to see this powerful film. That Sean Penn is something else. I’m trying to think of another actor of his generation who even comes close to his talent—is Johnny Depp the only one? Then I finished the last half of Death in Gaza, a heartbreaking documentary about a couple of Palestinian kids growing up in the Gaza Strip. Finally, I caught about the first half-hour of Errol Morris’ Fog of War before conking out on the couch. Very interesting stuff—I’ll probably finish that one tonight. All in all, some pretty heavy shit.
So everybody’s talking ‘bout the big tsunami, and once again, the bloggers showed up the mainstream press. I donated a few bucks to the Red Cross this morning and encourage you all to do the same.
N/P Pugh Rogefeldt – (Ja, Da A Da!)
I feel really bad too—I’m so terrible at consolation. I’ve never been one for mouthing empty platitudes, but sometimes there is a genuine need for words of assurance and I find my tongue failing me. And it doesn’t help matters that I’m not much of a “phone person.”
So Crystal (the dog) and I have the run of the house this week. Still don’t know when Jodi will be back. It’s looking to be a bittersweet ringing in of the New Year indeed. I may check that Ghost Buffalo show out, if I feel like it. Or maybe the Antisocial Me will just peep some flicks and hide out in the ‘burbs. We’ll see.
Last night I started catching up on some of those flicks that have clogged up our Tivo for so long. First up: Mystic River. At long last I got to see this powerful film. That Sean Penn is something else. I’m trying to think of another actor of his generation who even comes close to his talent—is Johnny Depp the only one? Then I finished the last half of Death in Gaza, a heartbreaking documentary about a couple of Palestinian kids growing up in the Gaza Strip. Finally, I caught about the first half-hour of Errol Morris’ Fog of War before conking out on the couch. Very interesting stuff—I’ll probably finish that one tonight. All in all, some pretty heavy shit.
So everybody’s talking ‘bout the big tsunami, and once again, the bloggers showed up the mainstream press. I donated a few bucks to the Red Cross this morning and encourage you all to do the same.
N/P Pugh Rogefeldt – (Ja, Da A Da!)
(Btw, noiseboy, did you ever find that keyboard shortcut for an umlaut? Cuz I need it too, you witty bastard.)
posted by Jonathan Wright at 2:53 PM EMAIL POST
