Ah, so it's May, and that means that yep, I'm busy taking time to hop on the bike for a helluva ride on June 9th and 10th - the MS 150. Yep, 150 miles in two days. Sound impossible? Well, I did it last year, so no, it's not impossible. It does, however, require a bit of work, pain, and self-inflicted torture of riding my bike over a whole lotta terrain that I would otherwise prefer to avoid. BUT, it's going well. Not as well as I'd like, but then, when is it ever perfect??? Never, as far as I can recall. But this weekend was a decent bit of riding - pretty much all of it good. A few lessons were learned from it, however:
1) ALWAYS prefuel. Yeah, I was stupid and didn't prefuel on one ride, and wondered why I was tired after about 30 miles. It didn't occur to me that I'd only eaten an apple and a handful of m&m's that day.
2) Chamois butter (or equivelent) always a necessity.
3) Biofreeze: also a necessity, and just some really nice stuff.
4) After riding with some friends, I realized I'm in better shape than I thought compared to some of them.
5) cycling tans are funny-looking, but are testament to the work put in.
6) Contrary to what my father believes, my saddle is not a torture device.
Speaking of Dad (see what I did there?) - Mine said the best thing today:
"If you live an extra 10% longer for drinking coffee, and 5% for drinking a nip of whiskey, and another 3-4% for having a glass of red wine, between that and all the other things that I do, I figure I'm never gonna die. I've got it solved!"
Dad, you crack me up, Dude. I look forward to helping you explore this theory!!!!!
Some other random coolness: looking forward to moving soon. A new house with workshop space for my house-mate and I, plus some entertaining space, as well s a nice-sized "Pittsburgh-level" yard. Covered porch, the works. It's a nice place. Hopefully, we'll be able to start moving on Monday!
Looking forward to a summer of camping, biking, and a lot of other things!!!
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
What makes a good film?
Since who knows when, America has had a thing for the movies. The Fat Kid is no exception. Now, I'm not going to say what you should and shouldn't waste your time and money on - I'm not professional critic and I'm not getting paid to do that. No, this is about all the things that I think movies should be - those qualities they should possess in order to make them adequate for viewing. Just because a film doesn't match up to my criteria doesn't mean you can't enjoy it. So, here it is: The Fat Kid's Guide to Film Adequacy.
1) Story. It's about story-telling, and so there must be at least an interesting story to tell. If you don't have an interesting story, why would anyone want to go see it? For that matter, why would they pay to go see it? At $10 per primetime film, that's just crazy. And by having a story, I mean a real one, not one that's a backdrop for a whole bunch of explosions, and by the end, we're supposed to believe that life finally got good for the main character because of 300 explosions ans near-death experiences. For example, let's take the Indiana Jones franchise. The trio of films was great. Indy's life was always just a little tough. It wasn't perfect, etc. The last film??? Ugh. NO REAL STORYLINE, and then the ending was stolen from the first "X-Files" film. Sad.
2) Special effects and make-up at a minimum. Unless the goal is to completely turn an actor into something alien unto human beings (think orcs, wookiees, trolls, other aliens, etc) we really just wanna see the actor do their thing. Yes, some makeup is essential, and should not be discouraged completely - but the point is: DON'T blow the budget on making a picturesque movie that lacks substance. Makep can't act. Neither can explosions. In fact, all most explosions seem to do is create shrapnel that hurts the main character somehow - thus requiring more makeup and/or fake blood.
3) Proper use of technology. Studios are very fond of showing off their new toys. Just look at Pixar. Hey, the do some cool things with those toys, and even though some of the characters are cute and funny...I'm still listening to Tom Hanks, John Goodman, Tim Allen, and Billy Crystal. Oh, and John Ratzenberger, whom I still have to stop and think of his name rather than call him Cliff Claven. Disney used to make a LOT of films for kids and families using real actors. In fact, it was almost all their stuff. Can we get back to this, please?
4) OK, this one is the biggie, and really, the rest of them all feed into it. RUN TIME. No film (other than kids movies and the occasional documentary) should EVER be shorter than two hours. There's a VERY little bit of leeway on this one. I mean, if a film runs 117 minutes instead of 120, ok. It happens. The 120-minute mark is really an "-ish" statement. Sometimes, there will be a complete story told in 110 minutes. BUT, when those sorts of things happen, usually, the story is sound, the tech is under control, and the special effects are reigned in as well - they simply ran out of story to tell, and rather than belabor the point, simply chose to move the story on to its conclusion. MOST of the time, these films that just fall short of the 120-minute rule are "OK" films. They are not heralded as "good" or "great." At the multi-millions of dollars used to make movies....would another 7-12 minutes of film REALLY be all that much to ask to flesh out a story in full? Isn't most of that on the cutting room floor, anyway??
I know what you're saying: "But there's not all that much to tell of __________(insert name of short film here)!" Precisely the point. Not all stories should be made into films. It requires good judgment, and that judgment should focus on what makes good movies, as compared to what Hollywood thinks teenagers want to see the most. Wait one minute: WHY ARE WE LETTING TEENAGERS DICTATE ANYTHING? I know, I know....because "it sells." Yes, 14 yr old boys want to see just how much leg and midriff they can see from the latest hottie of the month. Trust me, they see enough as it is, they don't need it in HD-3D-with Dolby 5.1 surround sound. They're boys. They'll figure it out. But you know something else? If you start telling good stories again, to completion, leaving little to nothing out, and that's what we allow our kids to be exposed to, we just might end up teaching the next generation how to actually appreciate the art of cinema rather than the art of demolition.
OH, and please....can we STOP making re-makes? HUH? Are we really running that low in the barrel that we have to remake Footloose? Can't you just tell a different generation-gap social commentary story that strongly parallels the film but maybe without dancing and such, and call it something different? PLEASE? That's for another post, though.
Thanks for Reading,
The Fat Kid
1) Story. It's about story-telling, and so there must be at least an interesting story to tell. If you don't have an interesting story, why would anyone want to go see it? For that matter, why would they pay to go see it? At $10 per primetime film, that's just crazy. And by having a story, I mean a real one, not one that's a backdrop for a whole bunch of explosions, and by the end, we're supposed to believe that life finally got good for the main character because of 300 explosions ans near-death experiences. For example, let's take the Indiana Jones franchise. The trio of films was great. Indy's life was always just a little tough. It wasn't perfect, etc. The last film??? Ugh. NO REAL STORYLINE, and then the ending was stolen from the first "X-Files" film. Sad.
2) Special effects and make-up at a minimum. Unless the goal is to completely turn an actor into something alien unto human beings (think orcs, wookiees, trolls, other aliens, etc) we really just wanna see the actor do their thing. Yes, some makeup is essential, and should not be discouraged completely - but the point is: DON'T blow the budget on making a picturesque movie that lacks substance. Makep can't act. Neither can explosions. In fact, all most explosions seem to do is create shrapnel that hurts the main character somehow - thus requiring more makeup and/or fake blood.
3) Proper use of technology. Studios are very fond of showing off their new toys. Just look at Pixar. Hey, the do some cool things with those toys, and even though some of the characters are cute and funny...I'm still listening to Tom Hanks, John Goodman, Tim Allen, and Billy Crystal. Oh, and John Ratzenberger, whom I still have to stop and think of his name rather than call him Cliff Claven. Disney used to make a LOT of films for kids and families using real actors. In fact, it was almost all their stuff. Can we get back to this, please?
4) OK, this one is the biggie, and really, the rest of them all feed into it. RUN TIME. No film (other than kids movies and the occasional documentary) should EVER be shorter than two hours. There's a VERY little bit of leeway on this one. I mean, if a film runs 117 minutes instead of 120, ok. It happens. The 120-minute mark is really an "-ish" statement. Sometimes, there will be a complete story told in 110 minutes. BUT, when those sorts of things happen, usually, the story is sound, the tech is under control, and the special effects are reigned in as well - they simply ran out of story to tell, and rather than belabor the point, simply chose to move the story on to its conclusion. MOST of the time, these films that just fall short of the 120-minute rule are "OK" films. They are not heralded as "good" or "great." At the multi-millions of dollars used to make movies....would another 7-12 minutes of film REALLY be all that much to ask to flesh out a story in full? Isn't most of that on the cutting room floor, anyway??
I know what you're saying: "But there's not all that much to tell of __________(insert name of short film here)!" Precisely the point. Not all stories should be made into films. It requires good judgment, and that judgment should focus on what makes good movies, as compared to what Hollywood thinks teenagers want to see the most. Wait one minute: WHY ARE WE LETTING TEENAGERS DICTATE ANYTHING? I know, I know....because "it sells." Yes, 14 yr old boys want to see just how much leg and midriff they can see from the latest hottie of the month. Trust me, they see enough as it is, they don't need it in HD-3D-with Dolby 5.1 surround sound. They're boys. They'll figure it out. But you know something else? If you start telling good stories again, to completion, leaving little to nothing out, and that's what we allow our kids to be exposed to, we just might end up teaching the next generation how to actually appreciate the art of cinema rather than the art of demolition.
OH, and please....can we STOP making re-makes? HUH? Are we really running that low in the barrel that we have to remake Footloose? Can't you just tell a different generation-gap social commentary story that strongly parallels the film but maybe without dancing and such, and call it something different? PLEASE? That's for another post, though.
Thanks for Reading,
The Fat Kid
Monday, April 30, 2012
3rd Annual Poetry Challenge, #29 and #30
Ahh, you were thinking I'd actually dropped a day and wouldn't get back to it! I know you were! Well, I didn't. Even the Fat Kid has a social calendar some days, and this weekend ended up being a pair of social engagements that invaded my writing time. C'est la vie! On the other hand, it also means that I don't lock myself away in the scriptorium and become a recluse, so I suppose this is a good thing.
First, I'd like to share with you all a poem I was sent from a person I consider a very gifted artist. In this particular piece, I personally find a strange (in the good way) rhythm, and when I was told WHAT inspired the piece, well, it all made sense. No, I'm NOT going to tell you - it's not all that difficult to figure out on your own, and if you're paying attention, I'm sure you'll get some of the same feeling the artist intended. Enjoy!
SPRING PATCHWORK
4-runnering one grey spring day:
Wintery hillsides bursting undergrowth,
Yellowing shades to evergreen,
Interrupting blinking towers,
Fall's browned teasel staking roadsides,
Wild dogwoods sprinting among shad bush and bridal veil,
Rolling hills striped with coal,
Rocking streams streaked with purple filigree.
Stone walls fencing soft pines,
Sentinel sycamores stalwart amid sweeping russian olives,
Rusting fields newly tilled,
Grey shack shadowing lonely creek,
Sleeping wild mustard fields;
A dogleg trip to Virginia or Connecticut?
To anywhere, live,
The Master's Quilt, perfectly pieced!
And now for something of mine!!
The Craftsman
My hands tell a story;
beaten, battered, scarred but strong,
rough from the work I do.
I am ashamed of them, at times,
how could such things hope to hold beauty?
they do not belong to touch finery,
my world, a mueum in which I may only see with my eyes.
But my eyes do not see,
what my fingers behold.
the eye is keen and critical,
it knows the errors, the imperfections,
where to look to see what the hands have hidden.
My hands tell the story of creating.
Oh geeze, on this, the last day of the Challenge, you get a two-fer!! Wait, I suppose technically, it's a three-fer! Huh, who knew? This last one is for all those who ever felt alone in any environment, or just like you don't fit in.
Apart
The world spins around me,
I cannot keep pace.
Ever traveling from place to place,
incongrous with the rhythm.
Conversations abound,
I am a part of them, and not,
I want to add to them, but dare not say anything.
I am the clown, mute and amusing.
But I do not belong here.
I am called to somewhere else,
my mind races with other thoughts.
I cannot explain it to you,
but only know that I am becoming something more,
something greater than I was.
In this, I am alone.
Solitary.
One.
from everything else,
Apart.
And there you have it. That's it - the end of the 3rd Annual Poetry Challenge. Reflections on this year's Challenge will be brief, but I cannot part without a few words:
First, Thank You - especially to the select few whom I KNOW have been regular - if not daily- readers. Thanks for your comments, your compliments, your critiques, and your criticisms (yes, the last two are different when speaking in literary terms.) I hope that you have been inspired in some small way to write your own - or to continue to write your own words.
Secondly, it strikes me that there are a few themes running through this year - however unintentionally they are. If you've gotten nothing else, please, take the following: Don't give up, even if you suck at something. Even if it's so tough, you think it will get the better of you, don't ever give up. The rewards of persistence are worth it.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
First, I'd like to share with you all a poem I was sent from a person I consider a very gifted artist. In this particular piece, I personally find a strange (in the good way) rhythm, and when I was told WHAT inspired the piece, well, it all made sense. No, I'm NOT going to tell you - it's not all that difficult to figure out on your own, and if you're paying attention, I'm sure you'll get some of the same feeling the artist intended. Enjoy!
SPRING PATCHWORK
4-runnering one grey spring day:
Wintery hillsides bursting undergrowth,
Yellowing shades to evergreen,
Interrupting blinking towers,
Fall's browned teasel staking roadsides,
Wild dogwoods sprinting among shad bush and bridal veil,
Rolling hills striped with coal,
Rocking streams streaked with purple filigree.
Stone walls fencing soft pines,
Sentinel sycamores stalwart amid sweeping russian olives,
Rusting fields newly tilled,
Grey shack shadowing lonely creek,
Sleeping wild mustard fields;
A dogleg trip to Virginia or Connecticut?
To anywhere, live,
The Master's Quilt, perfectly pieced!
And now for something of mine!!
The Craftsman
My hands tell a story;
beaten, battered, scarred but strong,
rough from the work I do.
I am ashamed of them, at times,
how could such things hope to hold beauty?
they do not belong to touch finery,
my world, a mueum in which I may only see with my eyes.
But my eyes do not see,
what my fingers behold.
the eye is keen and critical,
it knows the errors, the imperfections,
where to look to see what the hands have hidden.
My hands tell the story of creating.
Oh geeze, on this, the last day of the Challenge, you get a two-fer!! Wait, I suppose technically, it's a three-fer! Huh, who knew? This last one is for all those who ever felt alone in any environment, or just like you don't fit in.
Apart
The world spins around me,
I cannot keep pace.
Ever traveling from place to place,
incongrous with the rhythm.
Conversations abound,
I am a part of them, and not,
I want to add to them, but dare not say anything.
I am the clown, mute and amusing.
But I do not belong here.
I am called to somewhere else,
my mind races with other thoughts.
I cannot explain it to you,
but only know that I am becoming something more,
something greater than I was.
In this, I am alone.
Solitary.
One.
from everything else,
Apart.
And there you have it. That's it - the end of the 3rd Annual Poetry Challenge. Reflections on this year's Challenge will be brief, but I cannot part without a few words:
First, Thank You - especially to the select few whom I KNOW have been regular - if not daily- readers. Thanks for your comments, your compliments, your critiques, and your criticisms (yes, the last two are different when speaking in literary terms.) I hope that you have been inspired in some small way to write your own - or to continue to write your own words.
Secondly, it strikes me that there are a few themes running through this year - however unintentionally they are. If you've gotten nothing else, please, take the following: Don't give up, even if you suck at something. Even if it's so tough, you think it will get the better of you, don't ever give up. The rewards of persistence are worth it.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
Sunday, April 29, 2012
3rd Annual Poetry Challenge, # 28
oh boy - a flurry of activity for the alst couple of days, so I guess I better hurry and finish a couple of poems!
And now, time is but too short a thing,
a resource spent,
wasted, over so many days and nights
when the choice was to do nothing.
And though it's the squandered we see,
we count the other,
and fill our days with accomplishment.
Tomorrow, I will look to finish the challenge with a day of cath-up and the last day of the Challenge. Thanks to all who have sent their thoughts and musings, the occasional poem, and their support!!!
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
And now, time is but too short a thing,
a resource spent,
wasted, over so many days and nights
when the choice was to do nothing.
And though it's the squandered we see,
we count the other,
and fill our days with accomplishment.
Tomorrow, I will look to finish the challenge with a day of cath-up and the last day of the Challenge. Thanks to all who have sent their thoughts and musings, the occasional poem, and their support!!!
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
Friday, April 27, 2012
3rd Annual Poetry Challenge, #27
So it seems the theme of this week in my life is "Faith." Oh not necessarily a relgious faith of any sort, though there's been some of that, too - more like a general faith - in mankind, for example, or in one's own self. The funny part about this idea of faith, though, is that it's not been me who's been embroiled in it - but those around me. I cannot help but to think of the times when I have struggled with some of the many aspects of faith. If I could give advice to my friends, I would simply remind them that having faith is not easy. It is often thankless, and yes, even painful, and occasionally, you will get burned by it. BUT, having faith also keeps your mind and heart open to the many good things of this life. For this, it is always worth having faith. It is a gift. So use it. Keep your faith, my friends. The reward is worth it, even though you may be battered about first.
I know not the merits of love,
for merits are to a man whan he holds dear.
And though I am not everyman,
I am to everyman akin,
to have tasted the delights of Love,
and eaten at the banquet of its bounty.
Yet I will not shy from it,
though I may die a thousand deaths in a single day,
so sweet its nectar,
so delicate and fulfilling,
that never shall I want for less than Love's fair vintage.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat kis
I know not the merits of love,
for merits are to a man whan he holds dear.
And though I am not everyman,
I am to everyman akin,
to have tasted the delights of Love,
and eaten at the banquet of its bounty.
Yet I will not shy from it,
though I may die a thousand deaths in a single day,
so sweet its nectar,
so delicate and fulfilling,
that never shall I want for less than Love's fair vintage.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat kis
Thursday, April 26, 2012
3rd Annual Poetry Challenge, #26
WooHoo!!! You know, since this blogsite went and updated stuff and gave me an actual counter, it's nice to see that some people - quiet as they are - are at least looking at my words. How many of them are my mother, I'm not quite sure, but I'm grateful for those who are reading. I hope that you've been enjoying this as much as I have, and I do so hope that, even though you haven't joined me in creating poetry on here, that you join me next year - or for that matter, make your own poetry/lyrics/short fiction/whatever month - and invite me to read!!! The whole point is to enjoy writing and exploring words.
So - what do you say to exploring some of those words now?
Climbing
Cadence. Footfall over footfall,
turning the crank over.
Stand.
Swing the bike.
Kick, drop the gear, just one.
In the saddle again,
Don't stop, keep turning the crank.
Drop the gear again,
focus on the rhythm,
lungs and legs burn together,
winding up the hill.
Drop again, burning the gear,
stand on the pedals,
like you saw that guy do in Europe.
This is your Europe,
your Alp D'Huez, your Tourmalet,
The only climb that matters -
the one you're on.
It will never get easier.
There is another one around the bend.
What? I figured it was about time I got a cycling poem in there! I've been good about trying to vary it up a bit, but today, I felt the need to climb a hill. And for those of my cycling friends who may be reading....yeah I just said I felt the need to climb a hill. Strange days.....
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
So - what do you say to exploring some of those words now?
Climbing
Cadence. Footfall over footfall,
turning the crank over.
Stand.
Swing the bike.
Kick, drop the gear, just one.
In the saddle again,
Don't stop, keep turning the crank.
Drop the gear again,
focus on the rhythm,
lungs and legs burn together,
winding up the hill.
Drop again, burning the gear,
stand on the pedals,
like you saw that guy do in Europe.
This is your Europe,
your Alp D'Huez, your Tourmalet,
The only climb that matters -
the one you're on.
It will never get easier.
There is another one around the bend.
What? I figured it was about time I got a cycling poem in there! I've been good about trying to vary it up a bit, but today, I felt the need to climb a hill. And for those of my cycling friends who may be reading....yeah I just said I felt the need to climb a hill. Strange days.....
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
3rd Annual Poetry Challenge, #25
Well, with 6 more poems left - including today's, I think this month has been quite successful, if I do say so myself. But, I shall employ some advice from an old professor friend of mine: "Do not die on the side of the mountain." What should be pretty plain is that she meant for me to stay the course and buckle down, do the work, and don't let IT - whatever "it" may be - get the best of you. Sound advice when times get a little tough...or for when you're prepping for a really long bike ride that you know will have lots of hills.....
But what does that have to do with today's poem? I have no idea. I haven't written it yet. That theme may pop up, it may not. I have no idea - that's kind of the whole "poetry adventure" thing we're on here. So all you hep-cats out there put your mittens around your kttens and awaaaaaaaaay we go!!!
Before the Door
Heavy, old, battered and beaten,
the old door stands before me,
Hinges rusty on their pins,
bleeding down the wood.
It is a door the like I have never seen -
the lumber, unknown to me,
no marks to tell me of its maker.
No clue what lies behind it,
I only know that I must go through.
My hand trembles on the latch.
It feels solid, well-made,
the work of an artist,
a creator, a craftsman.
I try the latch and it opens,
the rusted hinges
swing open noiselessly,
there is nothing but darkness on the other side.
And I must go through.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
But what does that have to do with today's poem? I have no idea. I haven't written it yet. That theme may pop up, it may not. I have no idea - that's kind of the whole "poetry adventure" thing we're on here. So all you hep-cats out there put your mittens around your kttens and awaaaaaaaaay we go!!!
Before the Door
Heavy, old, battered and beaten,
the old door stands before me,
Hinges rusty on their pins,
bleeding down the wood.
It is a door the like I have never seen -
the lumber, unknown to me,
no marks to tell me of its maker.
No clue what lies behind it,
I only know that I must go through.
My hand trembles on the latch.
It feels solid, well-made,
the work of an artist,
a creator, a craftsman.
I try the latch and it opens,
the rusted hinges
swing open noiselessly,
there is nothing but darkness on the other side.
And I must go through.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
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