Casita Klatsch

Funny Zombies

It's here.  It just wouldn't be a Sandy summer without a head cold.  I thought I might have escaped it this year, but it has moved in nearly overnight.  I'm hoping it will be one of my short-lived ones. 

Last night, Zane and I watched Shaun of the Dead.  It has been on my wishlist for a few years.  Now that Zane is old enough to deal with such movies and not obsess or have nightmares, it is a real pleasure to watch them with him.  Of course, anyone who knows anything about SOTD, Simon Pegg or Edgar Wright knows that this is not your average zombie flick.  Part of their "Blood and Ice Cream Trilogy", it is so clever.  Ranks up there with Bubba Ho-tep on my list of favorite dark comedies.  Even Mark, not a fan of horror films, giggled a bit throughout it.  

In other news, I have a birthday coming up fast.  In case anyone is out of ideas, I'd like something from here, please.  And there's always my Powells or Amazon.  Thanks in advance!  </wink>

The Unbreakable

We took the boy to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince today.  It was, well, long.  And slow.

Please don't misconstrue.  I quite like the series.  HP has a special place in my heart.  It's not that I am a costume-wearing, conference-attending fanatic, a status achieved from gobbling up everything that is Potter.  No, I can thank fatherhood for introducing me to the splendidly entertaining world of Harry and his gang of bumbling wizards- and witches-in-training.

Five and a half years ago, when Mark, Zane and I first moved in together in Tucson, we read the Harry Potter books to Zane every night.  We would all take turns.  Even Zane had a go at reading to us now and again.  Our dear Australian friend, Alison, whom we met in Tucson while she was also studying at the UA and lived just around the corner from us, pitched in as well.  Night after night, we would take our turn on Zane's bed, lying next to him and reading quietly from whichever book of the HP series was the most recent.  Sometime after the (book) release of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, we stopped, for Mark and Zane had to return to Australia when their visas expired.  Our nightly readings came to an abrupt end, but Zane kept up with the books on his own. 

Now, half a decade later and Zane nearly a foot taller, we trundled off to the mall to sit in silence and watched as the penultimate book of the series came to life on a screen in front of us.  We sat, our funny trio, and gazed intently at the even funnier trio before us.  We fidgeted in our seats and tried not to yawn as Harry fretted, Hermione wept and Ron drooled.  We all shifted uncomfortably as Dumbledore resigned himself to a dutiful sacrifice. 

It was all long-winded set-up, we realized.  Movie #6 was basically a 2.5 hour prologue to the potentially omni-effective and tear-evoking finale to Ms Rowling's beloved series. 

But that's okay.  As we left the cinema and then waited for the bus home, we neither complained, nor criticized.  Our unspoken understanding:  it is what it is.  It is our special something.  And it shall not be defiled.