Meeting the Folks

Over Memorial Day Weekend, I meet many of MJP's folks, including his baby's mama. I believe all of these introductions went well. There were no Guess Who's Coming to Dinner moments and no one brought out a lie detector or asked me to milk a cat. Still, I have to say a great big "Phew!"

Why I Avoid Talking to People on the Phone at Work

This video depicts what would probably be happening on the other end of the line.

Sikh Strut

Only in Philadelphia does the Sikh American heritage parade contain a contingent of mummers.

Ending Obstetric Fistula

"The film, 'A Walk to Beautiful', follows the journeys of Ayehu, Zewdie, Almaz, Yenenesh and Wubete to the Addis Ababa Fistula Hospital to seek treatment for the devastating child-birth injury that has left each of them incontinent."

http://www.endfistula.org/get_involved.htm

If I'm not a surgeon. . .

then why do I feel so horrible when I make mistakes at work?

Amusement

Michel Gondry Entertained For Days By New Cardboard Box

Young at Heart, Closed City

On Saturday, I caught a matinée showing of Young at Heart, a documentary about a senior citizens' chorus in Massachusetts. At first, the narration and a whiff of condescension turned me off, but eventually I couldn't resist the stars and their poignant and witty renditions of rock, pop and punk songs. You can't fake the life experience the singers bring to the music. I was glad I saw Young at Heart, but I could have waited for the dvd.

In the case of Rossellini's Open City, I didn't have any choice. Yesterday I tried to watch a Netflix dvd of this big deal neorealist classic. As with many older foreign films that haven't been recently restored, the subtitles were very spotty. Whoever did the subtitles way back when didn't bother translating about 25% of the dialog. I couldn't figure out why some of the dialog was unworthy of translating. That question distracted me so much from the movie itself that I quit watching it after about ten minutes. I guess I'll try it again tonight.

I Dream of Congee

Last night, I dreamed that I was in some kind of congee cooking contest. I'd heard of congee before, but I've never eaten any in my life, and until I looked up the word a few minutes ago I didn't really know what it was. Never the less, congee was the buzzword of last night's dream. In the dream, everyone was preparing noodles. Someone said we were making congee. I suspected that this person was incorrect, but I said nothing to contradict him or her (that's right, I don't know who said congee). I just kept trying to make better noodles.

Prospect Park Wonders

On Sunday, MJP was kind enough to drive me to Brooklyn's Prospect Park for a friend's birthday celebration. After strolling along a lake and consuming enough picnic food to fuel a small army, he and I headed back to his car. On route, we encountered two enormous wild chickens. We also observed that small children tend to gather sticks.