Lee Child continues his Jack Reacher series with _ The Hard Way_. While the books are fairly formula and have predictable plots, they are a good read.
Rating: Several hours of escapist fantasy
In a conversation with a friend the other day the subject of email spam came up as he was lamenting the amounts of junk he had to filter through. That got me to thinking about my own spam situation, and I realized that I hadn’t looked at the statistics SpamSieve collects for me as it cleans my inbox for some time now.
So far, this year, I’ve had 66,453 spams, or an average of 484 per day. Extrapolated I should see about 168,000 spams this year. Since I installed the filter two-and-a-half years ago, I’ve had 284,895 spams. In the same time span I’ve had roughly 7000 emails that weren’t spam. In other words 2.45% of my mail is something I want to see. The other 97.55% is crap.
Wow.
If I had a nickel for every spam I’ve filtered in just over two years I’d have made $14,244.75.
Where’s my check?
My sister, Amy, died, thirty-three years ago of leukemia. During the last year of her life, and before we knew she was sick, my father took a portrait of her that really captured her essence. Shortly after her death he sent a copy of the picture to a company that produced a large format print that looks like an oil painting. This picture has hung in my mother’s bedroom ever since.
As my father has never really talked to me about Amy’s death, it is hard for me to talk to him about it as well. After years of wanting a copy of the original picture I finally asked my mom if she would ask dad to make me a copy. While I know that she asked he has never followed through, and so I still have no picture of my sister by which to remember her.
Three weeks ago when I saw my mom she told me that she was putting together a list of treasures and to whom she wanted them distributed. She said that one of her choices was going to be upsetting to me. She then pointed to Amy’s picture and told me that she was giving it to her two biologic grandchildren so they would “know their Aunt Amy.” It was upsetting but I told her that I understood and we moved onto other topics. Since that time I have come back to the whole picture issue again and again. My nieces will never know who Amy was; she died thirty years before they were born, and if what my brother tells me is true, he doesn’t really remember Amy so other than telling them that this picture is an Aunt they’ll never met, I’m not sure what purpose her picture will serve in their lives.
I think that my mom sees in her two granddaughters the potential of Amy’s life that was lost when she died so young. R and A will, hopefully, have long, happy lifetimes, and I believe my mom is counting on that to somehow make up for Amy. I understand that and I will admit to feeling that way myself. It’s just hard for me, in a year when I’ve already lost my wife and will soon be losing my mother, to, in effect, lose Amy again. I’ve always wanted a picture of Amy and even after I asked for one I still don’t have anything. That part of me which is passive-aggressive wants to take my camera with me the next time I go and, in front of both of my parents, take several pictures of her portrait saying as I do, “this way I’ll finally have a copy of my own.”
Being passive-aggressive about my feelings won’t help either the situation of my mom dying, or of my not having a picture of Amy, but in a time when so many aspects of my life seem to be beyond my control or ability to absorb, acting out is one of the few activities I have that is under my control. Once I get over my upset about this I’ll send my father a letter and ask one more time for a copy of my sister’s picture. At least I have pictures of my own of mom, so I won’t have to wait thirty years to have something by which to remember her.
I was pleasantly surprised by how good Mr. & Mrs. Smith was when I first saw it last fall. Over the weekend I picked up a copy to add to my collection and I enjoyed it just as much watching it again last night. It is a very funny movie, with some decent action thrown in for thrills. Being forced to watch Angelina Jolie doesn’t hurt either.
Rating: Worthy of a sequel.
Rating: Lots of supposition as fully half of the movie occurs after the last radio communication with the Andrea Gail.
Shortly after we moved into the apartment I currently live in, Michele woke me in the middle of the night terrified of the apartment. After a long discussion she came to the conclusion that there was bad energy in the apartment. We cleansed the apartment with a lit white candle, joined hands, and our combined voices telling what ever was in the apartment to get out and stay out. Now I know this sounds like the start of a slide into tin-foil hat territory, but something happened as we were cleansing the area in front of the kitchen door that leads to the garage. We had done the bedroom windows and the windows and doors in the living room. They were all shut. The only opening was the garage door, and the kitchen door leading to the garage. As we completed our cleanse the inner door moved, by itself several inches and there was an intense feeling of something moving past us. Afterwards the apartment did seem cleaner and brighter, and I know we both sleep better. Michele felt that whatever was there wasn’t evil per se, just negative, and by forcing it our we saved ourselves untold anxiety and worries.
Two nights ago as I lay in bed looking out the partially open window at the holly bush outside I suddenly saw a face formed in the leaves. I’ve had this window open for at least two weeks as the weather here has been mild, and I often look at this bush before falling asleep. The image of the face was imposing and fierce, it seemed as if it was glaring at me. I will admit that it was a little spooky. I kept telling myself that I was just being silly and rolled over and went to sleep. Last night as I lay down I again saw the face outline in the bush, staring in at me. Not wanting to deal with my imagination I got up and went outside and tore off the leaves comprising the face. Afterwards, looking outside I felt much better. The hint of malevolence I felt looking at the bush was now gone. Also, the cats returned to the window sill to watch through the screen, something they hadn’t been doing for several nights.
I remember being pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed Serenity last fall when I saw it in the theater. When I discovered it was out on DVD I grabbed a copy. It has the perfect mix of black humor, likable characters, and engaging plot.
Rating: Destined to be a long-time favorite.
“Go this way!” “No, it’s on fire” “Over here!” “We have to go up” “Hold your breath!”
Rating: Just once I’d like to see a disaster movie that kills everyone.
Oh. Wait. That was On The Beach.
The theater nearest to where I live has very early matinees on the weekends. The first showing is usually around 11:00 am. As a bonus the admission price to this early show is only $4.50, two dollars less than the usual admittance price. However, that isn’t the best part.
The best part comes from living in a very religious community. Church attendance is high in these parts which means the pool of people going to see movies first thing Sunday morning is small. The last several movies I’ve seen at the 11:00 am showing have been deserted, even the new releases are under populated. At MI:III and The Sentinel I only had to share the theater with a total of seven other people. That’s for both movies combined.
I’m off to see Poseidon by myself this morning.
My father loves mysteries and introduced me to Henning Mankell’s Kurt Wallender series. Faceless Killers is only the first. Set in Sweden, the characters are richly developed, and bleak, wet cold of a northern latitude winter makes you ache as you imagine being there.
Rating: I’ve already gone out and purchased the second book in the series.