I’m meeting Jodi and the kids at the Science Museum of Minnesota in a little while to take in the sheer awesomeness that is Star Wars: Where Science Meets Imagination.
The, uh, kids are really excited about it. I dunno – s’okay, I guess …
In honor of this momentous occasion – and because I dig both Star Wars and Shakespeare In Love – I (re)introduce you to George Lucas In Love.
Last night the kids wanted to watch a movie. It’s sometimes a challenge to get them to agree on a single flick – but our DVD player downstairs isn’t working, so we’re limited to the older movies we have on VHS.
Still they were going back and forth, so I said, “How about The Wizard of Oz?” Why, you ask? I dunno – maybe because Jacqui had been blogging about it …
“Yeah!” said Emma.
“Yeah!” said Gabe.
“Um – no!” said Trevor.
“You haven’t even seen The Wizard of Oz, Trevor!” I said, although Jodi’s eyes warned me otherwise.
“Uh-HUUUH!” insisted Trevor.
“Really. What did you see?”
“There were monkeys, and even they could fly!” he said, a big smile breaking across his face.
“Flying monkeys?! That sounds pretty cool! What else?”
“And there was a lion!”
“Was it a mean lion?”
“No, he was a nice lion – even there was a scarecrow!”
“A scarecrow, too? Was he scary?”
“No, and even there was a dog!”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “The Wizard of Oz has flying monkeys, a lion, a scarecrow and a dog? This sounds like a pretty good movie!”
Trevor, by this point was grinning ear to ear, and nodding along with his description.
“And even there’s a collection!”
“A collec … a what?”
“There’s a collection, and even he can move!”
“A collection that moves?” I asked.
“Even the collection has an ax, and even the ax can break wood!”
But of course: the Tin Man, a collection! “Well, Trevvy – that sounds like about the best movie ever!” I said. “Wanna watch it?”
“Yeah – let’s watch it!” he cheered.
Jodi doesn’t like bats much. I, on the other hand, find them fascinating (and totally appreciate their insectivorous appetites).
Some folks freak out when our little neighborhood bats flit about at sundown, but tonight, I found them strangely meditative. A couple of things had gone wrong – not big things, just particular things that really shouldn’t have happened, and that I specifically issued instructions to avoid – and I was at the end of my leash, growling, barking, snapping and slobbering.
I knew I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with the young’ns, so Jodi took over and I stepped out on the deck. I could hear the cicadas and frogs in the grass, and strange sonic clicks in the air all around. I sat very still. Generally after a few moments, the bats are darting here and there overhead, and you can only catch quick glimpses of them against the darkening sky.
Tonight, however, I saw just one, flying almost casually in a light, looping pattern along a more-or-less straight line, so I could track him until he disappeared past the neighbor’s old oak tree. His path seemed to write in cursive a pointed question to me: Sooooo?
The loopy little devil was right. It wasn’t that big a deal …
Today was Rose’s day at work with Dad. Sure sign of a great day pending: I start the car just as Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s “Over the Rainbow/Wonderful World” medley comes on the radio. Nice.
She spent the day making multicolored paper snowflakes and drawings for the women in my office. We had lunch at Annie’s Parlor in Dinkytown with our good friend Haircut Cate. Emma loves Annie’s fries and chocolate-mint malts, with chunks of the fancy brown and green chocolate mints your sometimes find on your pillow in hotels – so good!
Throughout the day, Emma out-SlugBugged me two to one – she had six to my three before she finally fell asleep on the way home. All in all, a lovely day with our girl …
After I reported on Gabe’s day at the office and described his artwork, he read the report and informed me that the second picture wasn’t the pins being knocked down.
“I put the ball instead of a skull, and then used two pins instead of bones,” he explained.
Asked where he got such an idea, he thought a moment, then said, “Probably bowling. I’ve bowled before!”
Judge the result for yourself. Looks to me like the makings of one bad bowler tattoo …
Archangel Stomp 