…morning espresso

Sometimes when I make my morning espresso, I get a whiff of its aroma and it takes me back to the farm, hanging around the kitchen table before preparing to work the land.

I miss Italy.

I miss you, Timo!
I miss you, Timo!

…Django, Django, Django….

Yes, I went to the movie theatre to see Django Unchained. And if you didn’t know before, yes, I am Black.

Black, Black, Black.

And guess what? I thoroughly enjoyed it! More than I thought I would.

When I saw the trailer for it many months ago, I had noooooo desire to see it. It looked like a hot mess on a platter. Even though I really like Sam, Leo and Jamie, I just thought – nope.

Then I saw an interview with Quentin and Charlie Rose, and it gave me pause, and a different perspective of him and his intentions for the movie. And after watching the film — it is truly the fruition of a desire born in him after he watched Roots as a youth. I won’t get into the details of the interview, but here it is. Listen out for the reference to Chicken George. However, I’ve seen most of Quentin’s films and nothing he does is straight-from-the-book. They are always super bloody. They always have a bit of humor. They always have memorable dialogue.  They always have a character that goes rogue and is bad-ass. They always have the good guy/girl win in the end. They are always flawed in some way or another, like most films. This film is yet another in his genre, with slavery as the meat that holds it all together.  He gives his interpretation artistic license, and that is his right as a filmmaker.

I did not feel he was ‘making light’ of slavery, using the N-word gratuitously, or any other such intelligentsia accusations that have been thrown his way. With regards to the N-word, it is used in the film about as much I would assume it was used during slavery and probably now in the deep deep south 2013 — it did not seem out of context for the characters. It was a typical western – bad guys, good guys, a beautiful woman who needed saving, some fighting and shooting, some killing and maiming, and a little dynamite thrown in for good measure. If there is anything I could complain about, it would be that the women lacked depth. But hey, this is Quentin’s story.

Interestingly enough, I felt quite satisfied at the end. Kind of how I feel after I eat some really good coffee gelato. Yeeeessss! Get ’em Jamie (and Christoph)! Oops, I’m not at the theatre anymore.

My final thoughts: I wish people would see the film before they criticize it to oblivion, because I would respect their negative critique more if they did.  As I have said with television, film, print – the media in general – if you don’t like what you see, stop talking about it and create your own images. Follow through! Don’t piss on the plate when there is no other food left and you haven’t participated in making any of the dinner. I respect others’ right not to view the film (there are several directors whose films I don’t view on purpose because of their shady history), but just like eating (I must be hungry right now), don’t say the food is nasty before you’ve even taken a bite.

Ok, off the soapbox.


Doesn’t it irk you when you realize that you’ve been giving some one/group/company the time of day when they neither deserve the time, nor the day?

Realization is a muther.

For some reason I am apt to give people the benefit of the doubt. I usually employ the two strikes law. However, every now and again, I toss that law aside and go against my better judgement.

Always go with your gut.  That bing*bing*bing ooh-this-doesn’t-feel-right feeling is there for a reason. It is indicative of your boundaries being actively tested.   Stand your ground!

…on death and dying

Today I learned that a fellow SGI (Soka Gakkai International) member had passed away. She had  been fighting cancer, and my entire district (and probably beyond) had been chanting an abundance of daimoku (a mantra, Nam Myoho Renge Kyo) for her recovery.

I was not close to her — I met her only a few times at one of our meetings. However I remember that she had such an infectious smile, and she made gratitude journals for all of us, and I remember thinking how generous it was of her to do so. I still have that gratitude journal, which will now hold a different meaning for me in the future.

Life is precious.


…you think you know so damn much…

Did you know that when you are referring to a ‘transient’, that you pronounce it TRAN-shint, not TRAN-see-int, or TRAN-zee-int?

Did you know that short-lived is pronounced with a long i and not a short one, as in strive, not give?

I did not, and I’ve been mispronouncing it for years. Why didn’t someone tell me? Probably because they thought they knew too.

You know how you go around thinking you know so damn much? You get caught up in your day-to-day and forget to learn new things?  Yeah, I jumped off that bandwagon a long time ago.

I love learning something new everyday. Sometimes two.