Flashback: How to sit still

I've been trying to clean out some boxes of papers and things, because I have packrat issues and really, do I need all the Alamo Drafthouse guides from 2004? I'm still deciding on that one. Other decisions are easier: I found a few stapled sheets of paper that I've decided to transcribe here for your entertainment. This was written on lined paper, and I recognize the paper size -- those little pads of paper that were popular at a former employer. My guess is that I was stuck in a meeting or conference session and due to factors that will become obvious, decided to write this down as a kind of escape. A little note at the top tells me that this was written in 2004 or 2005.

How to Sit Still

• Do not jiggle your legs.
• Do not push the chair in front of you with your feet, especially if someone is sitting in it.
• Do not scratch your head.
• Hell, don't scratch anything, okay?

tempers fidget

I wanted to write one last post during Holidailies -- I have a post nearly finished that just needs some thoughtful editing -- and I ran out of time, damn it. Hopefully I'll finish it later and not let it languish in the draft queue for months (you wouldn't believe some of the stuff in there...).

Thank you, everyone who participated in Holidailies, and hopefully we'll see you again in December.

Nutcracker

I am not a tall person. And when I drive other people's cars, I have to adjust the seat forward so my wee little legs can reach the pedals. I learned quickly that the considerate thing to do is to pull the seat back after I'm done, or when I think someone else is going to drive my car (like at the mechanic's).

My dad, getting into a car that I had driven without putting back the seat, used to curse a bit and famously yell, "Nutcracker!" Nowadays, when I hear the word "nutcracker" I think of my dad first, and the ballet second.

The car in the above photo is a 1996 Saturn. My dad bought it in October 2005. But even with the seat adjusted exactly the way he liked it, he found it to be a little small for him. He really wanted an SUV, and in April of 1997 he sold me the car. It had less than 10,000 miles on it and seemed practically new, especially to someone who had only ever driven well-used secondhand cars. For years, I kept it pristine, and once fussed at my mom for leaving an empty coffee cup in it.

25 years later ...

The photo on the right is my baby brother. I took it 25 years ago, Christmas 1983, at my parents' house (the one where we lived until 1991). We loved making him pose for pictures in cute and silly ways -- I also have photos of him peeking out of an empty jumbo-sized diaper box, playing in a lot of wrapping paper, hugging various dolls, and so forth. But this Christmas photo is one of my favorites.

Two days ago, the adorable little boy in that photo traveled to St. Louis to see his girlfriend, who was performing in a Christmas show, and to spend Christmas with her. During intermission at her Christmas Eve performance, he slipped backstage and proposed to her. She said yes.

My baby brother is engaged. To a Rockette, no less! Who'd have thought it of the baby with Billy Idol hair. I wish I could see them now, together.

I haven't even talked to him yet -- I knew he was going to propose, but only found out when/how it happened by reading it in his Facebook status. Now 25 years ago, I never would have believed that one.

merry merry merry, tree tree tree

Last year, the weather was sunny on Christmas Day and we drove over to Capital of Texas Highway to see the decorated trees. Every year, some stealth group decorates a bunch of trees right off the highway. In 2006, seeing the trees every day during my crummy commute to Westlake was definitely a boost. In 2007, seeing the trees up close added a festive touch to our low-key Christmas.

This year, the weather was sucky and we didn't go. We stayed home and enjoyed meatloaf and mac-and-cheese with the crusty top, and green beans and rolls, and later there may be pie. I'm hoping the sun will come out tomorrow or this weekend, and we can sneak over to the highway and take some more photos. Maybe even bring someone with us, so I could have a photo of C. and me together. (I'm especially hoping the New Year's themed tree is up again, because there's a great opportunity there for next year's holiday cards.)

sharing the movie love

Earlier this evening, C. and I went to see the movie Let the Right One In. I'd seen it already, when it played in Austin during Fantastic Fest in September. A colleague of mine at the festival recommended it -- he knew I didn't like graphic, intensely violent horror movies, and said he thought this one would be fine for me. Also, he was raving up and down about the movie. After the screening, he sought me out and when I told him how much I enjoyed it, he had a very familiar expression. It was the look of someone who loved a movie and shared it and the people he shared it with loved it too.

And if you are a film lover, it is a glorious feeling. I love watching movies, but I also love sitting next to someone in a theater and sharing a movie I have particularly enjoyed and feel hopeful that they will enjoy, occasionally peeking at them and watching the expression on their face as they get involved in the movie. Last week, it was JCVD; this week, the peculiar and sweet Swedish vampire film. I'm going to be pointing people at The Wrestler soon, too, and crossing my fingers that they like it as much as I did.

Sometimes it doesn't work -- I remember taking a friend to see Wings of Desire, and he didn't quite seem to get it. Admittedly we saw it at Hogg Auditorium and that was never the best place for a long, deliberately paced film with subtitles -- the seats weren't comfy. And then there was the time I took C. to the Paramount to see Tom Jones not knowing that he cannot abide bawdy costume comedies. But I still remember dragging my friend Eric C. to Singin' in the Rain at the Paramount, and how delighted he was with the film; introducing my youngest brother to the Evil Dead series; a blogger friend telling me how he watched Kiss Me, Stupid after I wrote about it, and enjoyed the experience.

It makes me wish I worked programming films in a theater -- imagine an entire theater full of people responding positively to something you arranged to have screened. But for now, it's satisfying enough to share with one or two other people. Watching movies can be a very lonely experience, but when you're sharing something you love, or loving something someone else encouraged you to see, it's part of the increasingly rare communal aspect of moviegoing.

(And yes, you absolutely should see The Wrestler when it opens in your town. Also Let the Right One In, and JCVD, and Timecrimes, and ... that's enough for now.)