A Plague of Angels (a book review post)

I'm going to lead with the fact that I haven't quite finished this book; however, I'm within 20 pages of the end, and I'm fairly certain that nothing can redeem it at this point, so I feel pretty safe in all that follows.

But let me remind you that I like Tepper and think of The Gate to Women's Country as a must read. Or, at least, a should read.

And I love A Plague of Angels as a title. However, it seems to have no connection to the book other than as a title, which is more than a little disappointing.

As is common with Tepper, this is a post-apocalyptic style novel. It's not quite post-apocalyptic because there doesn't seem to have been what we would think of as an apocalypse-level event, but the effect is the same. Man, after having used the Earth harshly, takes off for the stars in hopes of finding a better place to live than what they're leaving behind. Of course, not everyone goes, and this is a story about those left behind and putting together the pieces of the world into something livable. Except this story takes place so far after the exodus that it's a legendary event to most people. A story passed down and passed down and passed down.

So far so good, right?
That's what I thought, too.

The first bit of oddness is the Archetypal Villages that are scattered around the land and populated by Archetypal Characters. These people have no names, only titles: Orphan, Oracle, Hero. There can be only one character of any given type in a village. Now, these villages seem to have some relevance or importance early on in the book, and maybe they did when Tepper started the writing, but the whole thing about them gets shrugged off later on when one of the apparent masterminds of the world states that they are only places for misfits to live who have no other place in society. Not only that, but some of them are largely populated by androids.

So, you know, in a world where civilization and society have collapsed, some group of people decided to go around gathering up all of the orphans and creating a whole village for each of them, because it does seem that each village must have an orphan. But only one at any given time. And, when the village could't be supported by enough other misfits, this group of people supplied androids to fill the roles.

No, this whole premise is in no way supported by the text, especially the fact that this group of people supplies these android play-actors to these villages but seems to make no other use of them. For anything.

And then there's the part where mythological monsters spring back into being after the exodus. Why? No reason is given, though there's an implication that they were called forth so that the Heroes would have things to fight. Called forth from...? Yeah... No idea.

And talking animals show up, oh, somewhere a bit after halfway through the book.  Why? Because some guy started teaching them to talk.

But all of this is supposed to be coming out of the ruins of our own world so, well, I think if animals could learn to talk, it would have already happened since there are plenty of people who spend a lot of time trying to learn to speak with animals.

Oh, plus, there's a very convenient "battle of five armies" at the end of the book that's so contrived that the author has one of the characters state that it feels contrived but decides that it's okay because he was not the one that contrived it.

And I haven't even mentioned the "walkers," because, as it works out, they're too stupid to bother to mention.

This whole book, by the time I got to the end, felt like some kind of sweep-the-kitchen pizza. But, you know, not in a pizza kind of way. Unless that pizza was literally made from the sweepings of the actual kitchen floor, including dog and cat hair, stray coffee beans that bounced into corners, and bits of dry cat food that cat sticks into odd places probably to see if the dog will find them.
Not something you'd ever actually want to eat, is my point.

And this is the first book of a trilogy!
One that I will not finish, because I'm not going onto anything built off of this story.
In fact, this one is so bad that it's put me off of Tepper for a while.
To say that it was a disappointment isn't saying enough.

The Cheese Board Collective (a food review)

This all began several years ago. There was this list of the top 100 pizza restaurants in the country, and I decided to check it out, in no small part because my middle child would subsist off of pizza alone if we would let him. Which I get, I was the same way when I was his age. As it turned out, many of the top pizza places are right here in California -- no surprise, actually -- and three of them are (or were at the time) right here in the Bay Area. I added a couple of them to the list my wife and I keep of things we want to do or try. Yes, we do actually keep a list for that because we, or at least I, would forget them if we didn't keep a list.

Some of the things on the list, especially the restaurants (because we don't go out to eat all the often), we will never get to, and we probably wouldn't have gotten to The Cheese Board except that my wife had an overnight event (that we may discuss later but not right now) down in Oakland a few years ago and we had to eat out a few times. We decided to drive through Berkeley on our way home and have dinner at The Cheese Board because it was the place off our list that my wife most wanted to try.

There are a few unique things about The Cheese Board:
1. It's a collective, meaning that it's owned by the employees. On top of that, all of the employees, no matter what they do, make the same wage. It's all pretty cool.
2. It's not just a pizza place. Actually, it's a cheese shop, or that's what it started out as. Or something. The pizza came later.
3. The pizza only comes in one size. You can buy a whole pizza or a half pizza. Or, hey, even two whole pizzas!
4. They only make one kind of pizza per day, so, if you want a pizza, you get what they made not what you choose.
5. All the pizzas are vegetarian. Not in the traditional sense of pizzas; these pizzas are... creative. Both in the veggies used and the kinds of cheeses.
Remember that line in Inside Out? You know, it went something like, "Thanks, San Francisco! You ruined pizza!" Well, The Cheese Board would be a perfect example of what Mr. Anger was talking about... except that it's SO GOOD.

I don't remember what was on that first pizza we had, but I'll admit to being a bit wary of it. I like some veggies on my pizza, but I've always been more of a meat pizza person. Though, actually, now that we make pizza at home, I've come to realize that, when done correctly, the veggies add much more flavor than the meat. It's just that you're never going to get more than token flavor from veggies, or even the meat, from any chain pizza place. They don't do the right prepping to bring the flavor out of things. Red bell pepper, when properly grilled, is a flavor explosion on your pizza.
But I digress...

So, yeah, I don't remember what went on that first pizza, but it was nothing less than amazing. What I remember most about it was the incredible cheese. And, again, I'm not really a fan of "cheese pizza," because what's the point? Except, again, I've come to realize that my feeling about that has more to do with the failure of chain joints to provide anything more than melted cardboard on their cardboard crusts. The pizza we got at The Cheese Board was enough to rocket that place to my pick for pizza place ever.

And I'm not alone in that. There was recently an article (and, yes, I should have saved the link, but I didn't, and I'm not going to go look for it) about how The Cheese Board is one of the top three restaurants -- not pizza places, restaurants -- in the nation. It's certainly one of our favorite places to go... when we're anywhere near it. Last week, when returning from Monterey, we made a very deliberate detour through Berkeley just to stop for pizza.

Look, even my younger son loves it, and he doesn't eat vegetables unless we make him.

That first visit aside, since then we've had pizza with corn on it... Yes, I said corn! And, yeah, I was like, "What...?" when I saw that on the menu for their pizza that day, but it was... Unbelievable. I mean, it was corn! On pizza! But it added this bit of flavor that really worked.
And, yes, we've had pizza with broccoli.
This last time we stopped, it was bell pepper and olives.
I think that's it, just the four visits over about three years
I'd go more if I could, but my wife is convinced, no matter how good it is, that a two-three hour round trip is too far to go for pizza.

The Burger Review (a food review post)

As I mentioned last weekend, my daughter has a thing for hamburgers. For her next older brother up, it's pizza but, for her, it's hamburgers. And let me just say, it's a lot easier to find decent burgers in the wild than it is to find decent pizza. Not that there's a lot of decent burgers, but there is much more upward variation. And because it's my daughter who plays softball, we've tried a lot of burger joints, most of which are unrememberable. Just to clarify, we basically never stop at chain joints for burgers. The last chain joint we went to was Burger King (for reasons I can't remember), and that was... that was... hmm... more than three years ago. Maybe more than four years ago. It reminded me why we don't go to there.

Having said that, let me further clarify by saying that I don't consider Five Guys a chain joint. Probably, it is, but in my head it's not. Still, it's been almost a year since we went to Five Guys, and that was because my wife was out of town and the kids wanted to go there. Anyway...

So Five Guys...
We like Five Guys. I mean, if you want a burger on the cheaper side that is still pretty good, Five Guys is the place to go. One thing about burgers is that no good burger is not messy, and Five Guys has nailed the messy part of burger making. You'll have "sandwich hands" for days after eating at Five Guys. Plus, their fries are good. Really good, actually, in comparison to other burger places. Unfortunately, you're getting fries or you're getting their other kind of fries and, for an onion ring guy, that's a downside no matter how good the fries actually are.

In-and-Out...
Don't believe the hype. Okay, well, actually, if your experience with burgers doesn't extend beyond the big three (McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's), you can probably believe the hype. From that standpoint, I can understand why non-Californians get so worked up over In-and-Out (even John Scalzi!). When I first moved here 20 years ago -- 20 years ago! -- and my experience with burgers mostly didn't extend past the burger chains, I thought In-and-Out was great. I was blown away by it the first time I had it, in fact. But that was 20 years ago, and they haven't changed any. They have the worst fries of any burger place I've ever been, and their menu, also, is pretty limited. So, sure, they're probably better (maybe) than BK or McDonald's, but they don't stand up to Five Guys. Oh, and I'd probably go to In-and-Out over ever going to Habit again, so there's that, too, I guess.

Barney's...
Barney's is probably the best burger I've had that was made outside of my own kitchen (other than that one I had in D.C. when I was 15, but I have no way to legitimately grade that against any other burger ever, because that one has achieved Legendary status in my brain (I have a post where I talk about that somewhere, but I'm not going to pull the link up right now (too busy)))). Barney's is a place we stopped on the way back from a softball tournament many years ago, and my daughter immediately fell in love with them. According to her, they are the pinnacle of burger making. I suppose mine come close, or maybe she's just being nice. Who knows? Unfortunately, we don't have one close enough to us to make it a place we can just decide to go to on short notice. Going to Barney's is an event or, actually, gets rolled into some other event.

Superburger...
As far as burger places go, burger places we can just decide to go to if we decide we want burgers (because making burgers at home is a multi-day process, so we have to plan to make burgers at home ahead of time, days ahead of time), Superburger is the best place around. Period. I actually think their burgers are comparable to Barney's, but you'll never get my daughter to agree with that. However, they don't have good fries. They do have onion rings which are pretty tolerable, and they also make yam fries. They don't have anything close to the menu offerings that Barney's has, though, so Barney's has the edge, overall, as a place to go eat. Superburger does make some awesome shakes and, if shakes were a thing I partook of, that would definitely be my choice of places to go. Look, these shakes are better than any shake I've ever had from any ice cream place, which is kind of like if the best burger you could get came from KFC or Taco Bell.

Superburger does have one pretty huge drawback at this point: the cost. [And I'm looking at their menu online, right now, and I'm pretty sure those prices are not accurate to the last time we went there.] When we first started going there, I would say their prices were pretty reasonable, but, now, taking the whole family to Superburger is much more expensive than a family night out at the movies. In other words, I think we went to Superburger, like, twice in all of 2018. Not that we get food out all that often, anyway, but Superburger is not a part of the normal conversation of places to go if we are going to get food out. It just costs too much. It's become a "special occasion" place, which is unfortunate.

There are some other burger places in the area that we've tried that aren't worth mentioning, so I'll go ahead and mention them as places to never ever go, the first of which I'm seeing has actually gone out of business:
Bibi's Burger Bar: Very expensive but with fast food level food. I'm not surprised they had to close their doors.
Phyllis' Giant Burgers: Frozen burger patties at their finest. Seriously, these are the kind of burgers you can make at home by buying frozen patties at the grocery store and picking up some tasteless white bread buns.
Ozzie's Grill: The only reason they stay open is that they are supported by the middle school and high school that they're halfway in between. Comparable to Phyllis' above.

It's possible that there are some restaurants that have better burgers than Superburger and Barney's, but I haven't had them and, when you think of getting a burger, you think of going to a burger place. Of course, when you think of getting a shake, you'd probably think of going to an ice cream shop, but I think of a burger joint.

So there's your burger rundown to go along with last week's review of Habit Burger.

Racism, Not Just Hate Flavored

We do a lot of food exploration at my house. I mean, we experiment with cooking a lot in our house. For many reasons.

Like, the Indian restaurant we really loved closed, and we don't think any of the others in the area really come close.

Or my wife doesn't like pizza from restaurants, so we need to figure out our own pizza at home.

Or, gee, enchiladas are really hit-or-miss, maybe I should figure out how to make them so that we don't have the problem of bad enchiladas (which is what I did during January, and, now, we can't go buy better enchiladas than what I make at home).

Sometimes, when we're doing these food projects, we discover that there really is no one way to make something. That's true of everything, actually, but it's more true of somethings than others. I mean, pizza, despite the different toppings and thickness of the crust, is still basically pizza. It's bread and sauce and cheese at its heart; everything else is just window dressing.

But tagine... Tagine is not like that at all.

A couple of years ago, we decided to explore Moroccan food, and we started with tagine, because that seemed to be a pretty standard Moroccan dish. With Indian food, you start with curry; with Moroccan, you start with tagine. What I learned very quickly is that there is no one thing that is tagine. It was kind of mind boggling.

I mean, sure pizzas can be very different from one another but, if you see a pizza, you're going to know it's a pizza. Going through recipes for tagine, though, if I hadn't known I was looking at tagine recipes, I might not have been able to tell that two different dishes were both the same thing.

Except for the chicken. Tagine tends to have chicken.

And that's kind of how racism is. It doesn't all look the same, sometimes to the extent that you can't tell that what you're looking at is racism. Even in yourself.

We tend to think of racism as hate or, at least, an extreme dislike of a certain set of people, like, "I hate black people," or, "I hate Muslims," or, well, I'm sure you can figure it out. This is the burning crosses in people's yards or the dragging them from their homes and lynching them or the crowding them into ovens and gassing them kind of racism. But it's also the kind of hate that prompts torch-wielding mobs (even tiki torches) to march through towns and college campuses proclaiming how great they are. It's all very obvious and in your face, and, generally, we, culturally speaking, are quick to condemn it.

But racism is frequently more subtle than that and extends to the people who say things like, "I don't have any problem with black people, but..." We're so used to dealing with racism from the standpoint of hatred that we forget that it can include people who don't hold any particular dislike for another group of people but who just feel that their group of people is intrinsically better than some other group of people.

In fact, they may even like that other group of people and feel... fondness... for them. It's like this:

Some people really love kids. Little kids. They think they're great and want to play with them and do things with them and take them exploring and teach them and all of those kinds of things. They want to assist them in becoming adults because, right now, kids aren't as good as adults. But, maybe, one day, they will be. You know, assuming someone takes them in hand and guides their paths and helps them to become all they can be.

Sometimes, that's what racism looks like. "These other people aren't as good as us, but we can take them under our wing and teach them all about our ways and our religion and, maybe, one day, they can become all that they can be. But, until then, they need to be know their places as the inferior, the loved inferior but still inferior, and learn how to be better. The kind of racism of Robert E. Lee when he said god gave the Africans to the white man so that the white man could help them learn to become better people. [Yes, I'm paraphrasing.]

I think we often forget that racism can extend into being benevolent overlords. It's all for their own good, you know.

It's important to remember this stuff when people like Trump (#fakepresident) and Sessions claim to not be racist. I believe that it's possible that they don't feel racist because they don't feel whatever level of hate it is they believe is necessary to be a racist, but racism is not just hate flavored. It has a lot of flavors and a lot of ingredients. Sometimes, you can have two kinds of racism standing side by side and only recognize one of them, the one full of hate, and forget all about the one full of only white supremacy (and Anglo-American heritage).

Racism isn't about how you or anyone feels, not just about that, anyway. It's also about how you act, what you do and what you say. If you say racist things and do racist things, it doesn't matter how you feel. At that point, it's all about ducks: if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's a duck.

In other words, just because you're not a hate-flavored racist, if you're promoting white supremacy in any form, you're being racist. Which is why, in the end, if you are a Trump (#fakepresident) or Trump (#fakepresident) administration apologist, you're a racist.

I don't care how you feel.

What's this? (pictures I like)

I'll take it!

No, I Don't Have a Phone (and, no, you can't use it)

The other day, I did a thing I don't do very often. It's a thing I want to do... or want to want to do, maybe... but it's never as good as it seems in my head. I took my notebook with me to the cafe and figured I'd get an Aztec and sit and write for a while. The family was out of town and what better indulgence could there be with no demands on my time, right?

And, see, that's the part where it always sounds better than it turns out, because, almost as soon as I found a place to sit outside, a parent from my kids' school came by and started talking to me. Is it just me, when I am sitting bent over my notebook with my pen going, who thinks that should be a signal not to be disturbed? But that wasn't even the real problem. The real problem is that I didn't really know who the woman was other than that I had seen her on the campus. I don't even know who her kid is. But, then, because I have worked with, basically, the entire middle school in regards to creative writing and because everyone knows me as someone who has published books, lots of people know who I am whom I don't know at all.

But she thought I should know her and talked to me as if I knew who her kid is and what it is she was talking about. And I sat politely through it wondering how I could get back to what I was doing without being rude. The answer there is that you can't.

Eventually, she left. And so did I, because I didn't want to run into anyone else who wanted to talk at me. So I went across the street to the hotel that has the creek running behind it and sat on one of the benches there with goal of getting back to work. There's also a park right there, a park where homeless people tend to hang out.

Not long after I got back to work, one of said homeless guys came by. He wanted to use my phone. To order a pizza. He had money. It would only take a moment. He'd give it right back. He did this kind of thing all the time. I'm not sure if, by that, he meant borrowing people's phones or having pizza delivered to the park. Maybe both. The problem, of course, is that I don't have a phone.

Okay, the real problem was that the guy didn't believe me when I told him that I don't have a phone. And, hey, I get it; everyone has a phone. Except me. And, well, maybe everyone he asks to borrow a phone, because maybe that was why he was so persistent. Maybe everyone tells him they don't have a phone in order to get him to leave. Posers.

So we argued over the fact that I don't have a phone with him trying to convince me of why I should let him use it. The non-existent phone. Until, finally, he left. Sort of. Because he almost immediately came back. I mean, he went around the curve in the path, I looked back down at my notebook and tried to figure out what word I was supposed to be writing, and there he was again. "Are you sure you don't have a phone? I just want to order a pizza." And we went through the whole thing again.

Then, he left.

Except, 10 or 15 minutes later, he came back. Now, the thing to know here is that when he came back, he acted as if I was some completely new person. It was like we had never even spoken before, and we had to have the whole conversation over again. And I swear I heard him mumble something like, "The other guy didn't have a phone, either," when he was leaving.

And I left, too, because, man... I suppose that's why I never go to the cafe or anything like that to do any writing.

I did feel bad for the guy, and I hope he got his pizza. But, really, I don't own a phone.

Exploring Personality: Part Eleven -- "Can't we all just get along?"

"...can we all get along?" -- Rodney King

Types 8, 9, and 1 make up the intuition triad of the Enneagram, also known as the body triad because of the tendency of people in this group to say things like, "I knew it in my gut." Reactions can be very instinctual, requiring little thought and ignoring emotions. Intuition isn't well understood by science. It's the brain making a "leap of logic" and, while some studies have shown that forcing people to do something like math intuitively generates more correct responses than people who are required to "logic it out," that does not mean that people who rely on intuition are always right. It's very dependent upon the individual. The motivating emotion for this triad is anger, but it manifests differently for each of the three types (unlike for the intellectual triad where their fear is almost always about decision-making).

The Peacemaker

Ah, the Nine. The Nine is the most common of all of the types. Perhaps up to 40% of all people. Not only do you probably know one, you probably are one. Okay, maybe not quite "probably" but pretty close to it. You can always tell a Nine by his very distinctive characteristic of... oh, wait... the Nine has no distinguishing characteristic. That's what makes a Nine a Nine. Sort of.

The core motivation of the Nine is peace and harmony. Because they want to keep conflict to a minimum -- well, completely absent if possible -- they are adept to seeing all sides to a conflict and helping to bring about a peaceful resolution, hence the name Peacemaker or, as they are also sometimes called, the Mediator. They can see every side, that is, except their own. Their drive to keep things calm, causes them to submerge their own desires so that they often don't even know they have any.

They also tend to take on the characteristics of the people they spend the most time with, called "merging," which can cause them to appear to be the same enneatype as the person they're with. They do this unconsciously as a tactic for creating more harmonious relationships. You can't have a conflict if you always want to do exactly what they person you're with wants to do.

All of the Nine behaviors are driven by their intuition. They're experts at picking up on nonverbal cues from other people and adapting their behavior to go along with or counter, depending on the need, the other emotional state of the other person. So good are they at sensing the condition of other people, they rarely have any idea of how they feel about any given situation. Questions aimed at them about their own feelings often get responses of "I don't know" or "Well, Bob feels..."

I have avoided personal examples in these so far but, this time, I'm going to give you one, because it's such a good example of Nine behavior:

A couple of years ago, we were trying to find out what my oldest son wanted for his birthday dinner. This should be an easy task, right? Not so much when you're a Nine, which he is. The conversation was something like this:
"Hey, so what do you want for your birthday dinner?"
"Oh, I don't care. Whatever you guys want to have."
"It's your birthday; we want to have whatever you want to have."
"Whatever's easiest, then."
"Anything you choose will be the same amount of easy."
"Whatever's cheapest, then."
"Look, that doesn't matter. Just tell us what you want."
"My brother wants pizza."
"Your brother always wants pizza. What do you want?"

I'm not exaggerating when I say that that conversation lasted for half an hour. It chased its tail. It went in circles. It was like the Scooby gang being chased by a ghost in a haunted house: everyone, including the ghost, running right into everyone else, getting scared, and running away again. We had to sit him down and make him think about what he wanted. He kept deferring in his responses to what he felt like other people would want.

Something as simple as "what do you want to eat for your birthday" became a rather tortuous task for him to figure out because, really, he didn't know. And that was an easy question. That's how it goes with Nines.

Ironically, the Nine's obsession with keeping their environment harmonious very frequently results in inner conflict. The fact that they are always burying their own desires (to the point of losing touch with them) to fulfill the desires of others causes them to feel invisible and creates a deep longing to be noticed. Of course, their lack of initiative and internal drive, actually, to not be noticed (because that can create disharmony) comes into conflict with this, a source of their angst. Also, any desires they have are unspoken and, therefore, unmet. These two conditions, unmet desires and feeling invisible, can create a deep well of anger within the Nine. Mostly, this anger goes unrecognized and submerged, but it can leak out as passive/aggressive behavior that the Nine is oblivious to. Occasionally, when pressed, this anger can result in huge outbursts of temper that quickly dissipate.

In stressful situations, especially situations where they're with people they're unfamiliar with, Nines can become nervous and jittery, unable to make any kind of decision because they don't know the people well enough to facilitate activities or resolve conflict. In situations of overt conflict, Nines may well seek physical refuge and, if failing that, will withdraw into themselves.

Nines who have spent the time getting to know themselves and figuring what their desires are can become very purpose-driven while still being able to resolve conflict with or for other people. They can learn to stand by what they actually want and achieve an internal harmony even in the face of external conflict.

Nines may appear to be introverts because of the way in which they become overwhelmed by conflict, but that isn't necessarily the case.

Musicals: It's All About Context

Let me begin by saying: Musicals have never really been my thing. When I was a kid and my mom was always wanting me to watch musicals, I just couldn't get into them. Let's just say that the idea of a crowd of people suddenly bursting into song and dance (as in Oklahoma!) just didn't fit into my reality. I mean, I'd never seen that happen in life, so why should I be expected to accept it in a movie?

Of course, Disney films, at least the animated ones I watched as a kid, were an exception. The break into song didn't seem out of place to me in an animated movie. And they usually didn't involve elaborate dance numbers, Mary Poppins being the exception, but there was enough animation and fantasy involved in that movie that I didn't have issues with it. However, when people think of "musicals," I don't think they tend to think of Disney movies, except, maybe, the aforementioned Mary Poppins.

All of that to say that I grew up with the idea about myself of "I don't like musicals," and it was an idea I held onto for quite a while. Which is not to say that, now, I like "musicals," but I certainly don't dislike something because it is a musical.

Interestingly enough, it was two unrelated musicals in 2001 that began to change my perspective.

The first was "Once More, With Feeling," an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now, let me make it clear that the episode contained all of the things I'd always disliked about musicals: people, including crowds of people, spontaneously bursting into song and dance. However, Joss Whedon, who wrote all of it himself, gave it all a context, a reason for happening, and it was pretty brilliant. It was especially brilliant in that the characters, at first, were aware of what was going on but didn't know what was causing it. Not to mention that it had some great songs. I bought the soundtrack of the episode for my wife, and she carried it in her car with her for months.

The second was Moulin Rouge. Not only did it have music by U2, but it had Obi-Wan Kenobi... SINGING! How awesome is that? [And, yes, ever since Moulin Rouge, I have wanted Star Wars: the Musical.] And, again, they put the singing and dancing in a context I could take, that of writing a musical. And, well, some of the numbers are just amazing. And hilarious. If you haven't seen the "Like a Virgin" scene, you are completely missing out. However, I'm going to share one of Ewan McGregor's songs (you can look up the "Like a Virgin" number on your own time):



To make what could be a longer story shorter, the lessen here is that you shouldn't dismiss an entire genre, any genre (even romance), as being something you "just don't like," because there is always the room that there are pieces of that genre that you could like. It's like when my oldest boy was six and tried to maintain that he didn't like cheese... while preferring cheese pizza and being a constant eater of cheeseburgers. Later, much later, it was, "I only like Gouda," but that was wrong, too.

Within the last couple of years, we've begun showing our kids musicals. Partly, this was prompted by the fact that my oldest son has now been in a few (right now, he's performing in Les Miserables) and my younger son has actually been in a couple himself. Partly, it was prompted by my wife's love of musicals. They all loved Moulin Rouge; only my wife likes Oklahoma! Other favorites have been Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music.

Basically, don't get trapped within ideas of yourself. We all get tempted to do that because those things help us define who we are. However, when we lock ourselves into those things and refuse to step outside of those boxes, we tend to become smaller and smaller people. Our views fail to expand and grow, and we can't even look at things that don't fall within the narrow confines of who we think we are. It's time, now and always, to look outside the box. Musical or not.

The Winter Soldier (a movie review post)

Let's have a discussion. Well, sort of. This is not going to be a typical movie review for me, because I want to talk about a lot of stuff that doesn't actually pertain directly to the movie but is stuff that is brilliant about the movie. If I had my way, this would be all of us going out after the movie and sitting around talking about the movie. So not a review, but a discussion. Like my wife saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I just step on your moment?" was her favorite part and my daughter responding with, "On your left. On your left. On your left." Not that I probably won't wrap it up with a bit of a review at the end, but, first, let's talk about some things.

Like the Winter Soldier.

Comic books were a big part of my life for a long time. Something like 20 years. But I've, now, been out of comics for something like a decade, and the Winter Soldier was introduced after I quit reading and following comics. I had no idea who or what he was, so that whole part of the movie was pretty cool. And I'm glad I didn't know anything about it, although it caused problems for members of my family who wanted to ask me questions (because if it's about comics, I almost always have an answer), and all I could say was, "I don't know anything about the Winter Soldier."

Then there's the whole Nick Fury vs. S.H.I.E.L.D. aspect of the movie.

Nick Fury is one of those divergences from the comic books. In the comics, Nick Fury, also, fought in World War II and is still alive today because he takes something resembling the super soldier serum that keeps him alive. The Howling Commandos actually ran with Fury during the war, not Captain America. But they've done a great job so far of twining the Fury/Captain America stories into something that works for the movies, and they did that again in Winter Soldier by bringing in major elements of the vs. SHIELD story. Being someone that read that story back in the 80s when it came out, I really appreciated that they worked it in here. And what they did makes me really want to see what's coming next (and makes me really wish I could watch the SHIELD television series and see what they're going to do with all of this there).

I was also gratified with the reveal on Arnim Zola, because I wondered about what they were going to do with him after the first movie. It will be interesting to see how that will play out in the future, too.

Possibly, the best thing, though, was the introduction of the Falcon. I have issues of Captain America going back to when the Falcon was Cap's partner. Or sidekick. Or whatever you want to call him. It's great to see them (Marvel) bringing in characters like this. It gives the Marvel Movie Universe so much more depth. Which brings me to what was probably my favorite line in the movie, "I do what he does... only slower."

That's about all I can talk about without giving actual spoilers, which is why it's too bad that you guys didn't go see the movie with me and are sitting around at a Round Table (pizza place) with me eating Parmesan twists and talking the movie. Maybe next time, right?

So, now, the movie:

Captain America: The First Avenger is one of the best super hero movies in terms of capturing the essence of the comic that has ever been done. Of course, Marvel is making it harder and harder to say "one of  the best" because they keep doing that over and over. Captain America: The Winter Soldier is easily of the same quality as its predecessor. I hesitate to say that it's better, but it might be. If nothing else, Chris Evans is as much Captain America as he's ever been and I'm beginning to think he may actually really be Steve Rogers.

One of  the things Marvel seems to be exploring is who their heroes are just on their own. Of course, Thor starts out that way, with Odin taking his hammer. Iron Man 3 asks the question of just who is Tony Stark without his armor. And The Winter Soldier not only poses the question, "I heard you're more than just the shield," it puts Cap up against a villain that is able to dismiss the shield as nothing more than a piece of equipment, forcing Cap to be just Steve Rogers. Of course, there's more to it than that, but, again, spoilers.

As I mentioned, Chris Evans is excellent. If nothing else, Marvel has found actors to be the perfect embodiment of their heroes, and it wouldn't actually surprise me to find out that Evans is just a cover for Captain America.

Samuel Jackson continues to be Nick Fury. He's more Nick Fury in this one than in any of the other Marvels so far. Not only is he more in this one than the others (except, maybe, The Avengers), but he really shows us who Fury is.

Scarlett Johansson is everything that you could hope for alongside Cap. And her goal of finding him a date adds humor throughout the movie and comes off completely naturally.

It was great to see Robert Redford in this. His physical presence on camera is just as strong as ever; he was excellent as Alexander Pierce. He oozed politician, and it was great.

But the greatest addition was Anthony Mackie as the Falcon. He was... well, perfect. Just a hint of young Will Smith cockiness but with his own maturity. He's another example of great casting, and I hope we see more of him in the future movies, both Captain America and the Avengers.

If you've liked (loved) the other Marvel movies, I don't see that there's any way that you will not enjoy The Winter Soldier. If you've found that the Marvel movies aren't your style, well, I think you should go home and re-think your life.
And, yeah, sure, I know that line is from a different franchise, but I mean it all the same.

Putting Yourself Out There (an Indie Life post)

I was never very adept at dating when I was younger. At least, it didn't feel like I was. Maybe it feels like that for everyone? Or most people, at least. There's always this great ambivalence leading up to asking anyone out. Sometimes soul-crushing ambivalence. Doubt. Fear. And, frequently, you just don't do it, because you decide, before you even ask, that the person you want to ask will say "no."

Of course, when I was in high school (and college), all of this was complicated by "The Girl." I was so stuck on her that it made me incapable of seeing other opportunities that were in front of me. And it lasted for YEARS. And it's not like it was some hidden, unrequited thing, either. She knew how I felt and there was pretty consistent pursuit. In fact, any time I would start to get fatigued, she'd do something to keep me hooked without ever going out with me. She very much wanted to make sure that I didn't date anyone else while still not dating me. I came to hate, "I like you, but..." It was... horrible.

But I was completely blinded by her and her unfulfilled promises and it prompted me to completely turn away several girls who were interested in me just for the chance of going out with "The Girl." That and it felt dishonest to go out with someone when I was clearly attracted to someone else. The couple of times I did actually go out with some other girl, I let "The Girl" mess those up. Like I said, she didn't want to date me, per se, but she didn't want me dating someone else, either.

Eventually, though, I did get past her and started asking out some other girls. And, my gosh, the dread of doing that...
There was this one girl... I think I was a freshman in college (pretty sure), and she was, well, she was older than me, like a junior or something. Blond. Pretty. She sat next to me in... Intro to Drama? Maybe. She sat next to me in something, at any rate, and I really wanted to ask her out. I argued with myself over that for weeks. I gave myself all the reasons why I shouldn't ask her:
"She's older than you."
"She's popular."
"Look how pretty she is."
"She'll never say yes to you."

I'm sure there were more, and I'm also sure you get the idea.

At any rate, what it finally came down to for me was this:
If I didn't ask her out, it was the equivalent of a "no." But, if I did ask her out, I might get a "yes." I suppose I couldn't let the possibility slip by, so, one Friday after class when some friends of mine and I were going to hit the local pizza joint, I asked her if she wanted to come along. And...
I did not get a "yes," but I also didn't get a "no." I got a "I can't right now, maybe some other time." And, maybe, that was a "no" and, maybe, it was exactly what it was. I don't know, because I didn't try again. Maybe, I should have; I don't know. The main thing, though, was that I asked her, which I even knew at the time.

That was my thing after that, "If you don't ask [about whatever, not just dating], the answer is always "no." Or to say it the way my mother-in-law used to say it, "Let them say 'no,'" meaning: Don't not ask because you're convinced you'll get a "no." Make them say it.

Of course, I'm not really talking about dating. All of this has to do with what it's like being an independent author. "The Girl" is like that time period where you're stuck on going with a traditional publisher. Most authors go through that and will pursue it for years and years. They'll jump through all kinds of hoops thrown out there by "The Girl," um, I mean Agents. "I like it, but..."
You just need to change these parts.
You just need to write it first person.
You just need to have a love triangle.
blah blah blah
All of that when it's not really about you, anyway. They just want the attention and the power (and I'm not talking about any specific agent; I mean that in a general sense about the way that part of publishing works).

Of course, I could also talk about looking for an agent in the same context of dating, but I'm not going to do that, because I don't think most authors ought to be looking for agents, but that's a post for another time.

What I want to talk about is the whole thing of putting yourself out there. I mean, that's what dating is: putting yourself out there and becoming vulnerable. You risk the big "NO" any time you ask someone out, and that risk is scary, and it never feels good to get it. But you don't always get a "no." I hope.

Putting your book out there is a lot like this. Putting it out there where people can see it and read it is risking the big "No" of bad reviews (and no reviews), no sales, and people responding negatively to you rather than your work. It can be... hard. Scary.

But not putting your stuff out there is the same as not asking. Don't let the fear that people won't like what you have to say keep you from making it available. Let them say "no." And some people will say "no," but some people will say "Yes!" And isn't it those people we're writing for anyway?

This post has been brought to you in part by Indie Life.

Being Round Table (an IWSG post)

Pizza is a pretty miraculous thing. It comes in so many shapes, sizes and forms, but, yet, it is pretty much always recognizable as pizza. Even dessert pizza, which is in no way actual pizza, is recognizable as pizza and counted as such.

Possibly the best thing about pizza, though, is that kids are just as enthusiastic over cheap pizza as they are for expensive pizza. In fact, they often prefer the cheap pizza. Until just recently, my younger kids would generally choose Little Caesar's over anything else. Which, you know, is nice for the wallet. Not that we get pizza all that often, but, when we do, it is usually just for the kids (which has many causes but is frequently because there is something happening that will cause some kind of delay to dinner but they, my daughter especially, can't make it without something before the delayed dinner). Grabbing a couple of $5 pizzas is kind of a great thing.

And Little Caesar's is great for birthday parties and play dates and stuff. I mean, basically, every kid will eat either a Little Caesar's cheese or pepperoni pizza, but, if I get something more expensive, there are always kids that respond with "I don't like that kind of pizza," even if it's cheese or pepperoni.

So, see, cheap is good. It's... mass level pizza (it's good for the masses, see?). Even adults, who may not prefer it, are generally willing to eat it. Well, except my wife. She has standards. She won't go for anything less than Round Table. But I'll get to that in a moment.

It's been interesting to watch my kids develop, to watch their tastes mature. Here's a basic rundown of how it went:

• At some point, all of the kids preferred Little Caesar's. (So we'll call that the "lowest common denominator pizza.)
• My oldest is at that age where he will eat almost anything (I think I could squirt some ketchup onto cardboard and sprinkle it with cheese, and he would eat it); however, he prefers this place called Mombo's, which I think is awful (I'm pretty sure they do use cardboard for their crust which is why I think I could get that past my son).
• My younger boy still loves Little Caesar's (because, hey, it's pizza), but, when he gets to choose, he picks Papa Murphy's. (I'd call Murphy's a good mid-range pizza place. Their most expensive pizza is still cheaper than Round Table's cheapest (at an equivalent size).)
• My daughter has moved all the way up to preferring Round Table (but, then, she is our child that is most invested in food). If not Round Table, though, she prefers Little Caesar's, while the boys would both pick Papa Murphy's (because Mombo's, although not as expensive as Round Table, approaches Round Table and, well, no one other than the oldest will eat it).
• My wife eschews it all if it isn't at least Round Table (I say "at least" because my wife prefers an even more expensive pizza from a place called La Vera, which is not a place the kids like at all (my younger son mostly refusing to eat any of their pizza) and, although I will eat it (it's good, just not that good), I prefer Round Table.)
• For a short while, the family liked, as a group (including my wife), Papa John's (my daughter, especially, loved it for the stuffed crust and dipping sauces), but the owner guy started spouting off at the mouth, and we no longer support them.

Here's the thing, though, everyone (in my family) pretty much agrees that Round Table is the "best" pizza even if it isn't the particular "favorite" pizza of that person. For instance, my younger son agrees that Round Table has better pizza than even his favorite pizza at Papa Murphy's; it's just that Papa Murphy's has a particular type of pizza that Round Table doesn't offer that my son really likes. My wife agrees that Round Table has better pizza because it doesn't cause moaning from the kids. My oldest agrees that Round Table is better because they have all kinds of extras that Mombo's doesn't have. And my daughter and I just like Round Table better anyway.

But, see, if we're going to the mass appeal thing, I can't do something like serve Round Table at a kid-oriented birthday party for one of my kids (as opposed to the family-oriented party), because 1. it's too expensive 2. not all the kid guests will eat it.

Which brings me to my point, some books are very "Little Caesar's." They appeal to a broad spectrum of people and, although many people may not think it's the best, they'll eat it. [Of course, you have people like my wife who just won't and people like me who sometimes might but, later, will wish they hadn't.] It's low quality but easy and cheap. And you have books that are "Mombo's" or "La Vera's," which appeal to a much thinner spectrum of people but people who really love it. And there are "Papa Murphy's" books which are bit higher quality than Little Caesar's but require more work (you do have to cook it yourself) and some people just aren't interested in that kind of time investment. And, then, you have the "Round Table"s which most people will agree qualify as "good" books but not all people are willing to read (because, we'll say, of the intellectual investment; those are more complex). And, of course, you get the "Papa John's" which people boycott because the author is a complete gashole (which is the hole you use to put the gas in a car, see) no matter how good the product is (like the controversy surrounding Ender's Game).

Authors have to decide where on that spectrum they want to be. Cheap and easy with mass appeal or higher quality which places them out of the intellectual price range of some people. Maybe most people. Or, even, some niche market where the author may develop very loyal fans but there won't be very many of them. Or be so high concept that most people just won't care (sort of like Moby Dick). I say it's a choice because it's very rare that a Rowling will come along and present something that is both high quality and have mass appeal. Her further endeavors have shown just how rare a thing like Harry Potter is. Of course, sometimes, the author doesn't get to decide, because the author just isn't capable of writing anything other than the kind of thing that the author already writes (like, I think it pretty unlikely we will ever have any high quality, literary work from E. L. James (so, yeah, that's a judgment, but I think it's a safe one)).

Personally, I'd like to be Round Table. It's quality pizza but affordable enough that people can, at least, splurge on it for special occasions. It's not going to turn most people away other than kids that are still stuck on the blandest of cheap pizzas (like Little Caesar's and, from what I remember (though it's been years since I had one), Domino's). I realize that means that I'm not aiming for some blockbuster, mass appeal novel, but you know what? I'm okay with that. I want to be the pizza that people remember and wish they had more of, not the pizza that people settle for.

Now, speaking of pizza...
I think I'm hungry...

This post has been brought to you in part by Alex and the IWSG.

Unexpected Applause: "Memories"

Note: This review will be full of spoilers. The work is short enough that there's no practical way to talk about aspects of it without actually talking about those aspects of it.

In "Memories," author Alex Hurst has given us a bitter-sweet story of love and its importance no matter what kinds of gender boundaries may exist. From that perspective, it is well worth reading, this look back through the important moments of two lives that have come together. It's sweet and it's sad, and it could, really, be the lives of any two people that have come together in love and lived out their lives that way, which is where the power of the story comes from.

However, I found the vehicle for that story to be... distracting. And, actually, unconvincing. But, first, there is a brief introduction for the audience that spells out what's going on which I also thought detracted from the story. The story itself is really one of discovery or, actually, re-discovery by  the story-teller. I think introducing the story to the audience by telling us that she has entered a shop of memories takes that journey of discovery away from the audience, removing some of the power the story could have as we figure out what's going on. It removes rather than adds to the tension of the story.

The real issue for me, though, was the artificial limitation of "you can choose only one thing" which just made me want to know "why?" I get that the author is using that limitation as a vehicle to stroll the memories of the character and examine them while contemplating the importance of each, but that didn't stop the question of "why" from bouncing around in my head. It reminded me of those silly games people do:
You're stranded on a desert island and can only take one book, movie, food with you; what do you choose?
And I want to know, "Why am I stranded on a desert island?" and "If I am stranded on a desert island, what good is one book going to do me?" And "how am I going to watch this one movie while stranded on the desert island?" And "What? There's going to be a pizza tree there?"
So, yeah, this idea of the narrator only getting to pick one memory from her life before going on to wherever it was she was going really got in my way of enjoying the story itself.

Which may or may not be fair to the author and may or may not affect anyone else, but it did effect me.

Also, there is the issue of the ghostly store clerk, which I couldn't stop thinking about in terms of a static-like TV image after the description of it being like bad radio signal. If the memories are the narrator's and it's her store, so to speak, why is there a sales clerk following her around? And, if she has all the time in the world to choose, why does it keep interrupting with "have you chosen, yet?" Yes, I'm sure some of that is just my own issues. But I was annoyed on behalf of the narrator and wanted to tell the clerk to "go away and leave me alone! I'll call you when I'm ready."

And here's the problem with such a short piece: what I'm saying here makes it sound like I liked the piece less than I did. I enjoyed it well enough. It's well written. There are only a couple of grammar issues (which I can't even remember now, so they couldn't have been that big a deal). And it has a message that, probably, more people need to get. Okay, not probably, certainly. This is the kind of piece that might be able to give people a connection to how a real person feels about the issues being dealt with in the story, and, for that, it's worth the read.