Batman 3 reviewed, Violence in media, society

     "Batman 3:The Dark Knight rises," has a fair amount of violence, a ton of action, a lot of memorable quotes, most of which escape me now. For instance, the bad guy, Bain, tells Batman that when Gotham is in ashes, then you can die. And he's gotten weak in his victory, and he says that as he knocks Batman like he's a doll, which was impressive if not out and out mean.
    The movie I believe is philosophical about heroism and idealism and doing the right thing. It's difficult to be the lone hero, to carry that persona around with you. Madmen, many charismatic enough to garner a lot of followes, seem so persuasive (yet so unreal -- think Hitler, Idi Amin, Pol Pot and the rest). But they're not there, and we would hope they would stay away from the wider public arena.
    It was a powerful, interesting part of the movie when handsome actor Christian Bale is put by Bain in a prison that is at the bottoom of what looks like a huge stone well somewhere in the Far East (and the Wayne mansion looks a  whole lot like the "Highclere Castle" mansion I visited in England in 2001). The other prisoners talke to him about motivation when things get desperate. A blind man points out that it was a child who found a way up the walls and Wayne had to think like him. He was dedicated enough to Gotham City that he had to find a way out, something many of us wouldn't have the strength to do. Did that make it seem unrealistic? It certainly added to the drama and tension.
    But there certainly was a lot of fighting, explosions and other violence. Is there too much violence in the media? Not long after the movie came out a young man with red hair said he was the joker and shot up a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado, killing 12 people who didn't even know the guy. The media said he got 6,000 rounds of ammunition off the internet. We have all these ways to communicate and buy things electronically, but at what cost? Why didn't someone pick up on this weird behavior?
    The movie gave Bruce Wayne a "point" in his life. What was the point (logic) behind the shooting in the movie theater?
    In real life, don't we need more heroes? But then, going it alone is too hard. One person can't "do it all," so we should work together more, compromise even. And use the media more constructively.
     

Men Think They know it all

    Men -- aggravating and annoying and think they know it all. We were going to the next town and I knew, basically a shortcut. Did my husband take my suggestion? NOOOOOOOO. He went by what our visiting son said, who doesn't live here and know the roads like I do. We drove 40 minutes out of our way, then learned our destination would have been closed if we had gotten there early to get tickets anyway!
    And planting a garden-- doesn't that go in the back yard, not the side of the house? But does he think so? NOOOOOOO. Either we agree or totally disagree. It's ridiculous.

Have moved, College orientation and moving to college essay

    This will be short in that we are are "still" in the process of moving in. Once you get all your furniture and papers and clothes and pictures and art and such in another house, then you have to sort it out. It is a "process," interrupted by my watching the Olympics. Man, they are so young, disciplined and fit (all the things I'M NOT).
    But, I am now copying an essay I wrote about my son Adam going to JMU for orientation a few years back. It involved alot of ravel and some interesting conversation...  (below)

   

An Inch Closer to Independence (Talking ‘bout their generation)

By D. J. Mathews

    It was going to be a big day, day to meet new people, maybe encounter a few cute coeds – for my son, that is. The news that our son Adam, a rising senior who was third in his class at his small high school, was accepted at a prestigious college was no surprise. Getting up at 4 a.m. to see the hotshot school was.

    “Grief, it’s the middle of the night,” I said. We were starting out for a college orientation session and the drive was over four hours away! I was dreading the drive and the thought of his leaving home. Then again, I would get some storage space in the house.

    Adam seemed wide awake – easy to do when you’re not the one driving – and very relaxed about this whole thing, staring out at the stars as I pulled onto the interstate. And he came up with a topic I never would have thought of.

     “My generation will probably live to be 500,” he proudly announced,as though we were on some obscure, out of this world talk show.

    “How would your generation manage that?” I had to ask.

    “Oh, you know, Ma.”

    “No, I don’t know. Give me a hint,” I said.

    “Cloning. By the time I’m your age they’ll be cloning all my organs so that I can live a much longer life.” Science had done a lot of things in the last thirty years, when I was a young undergrad. Mapped out the human genome. Come up with the Concorde supersonic jet. But they still haven’t invented a ball point pen that writes upside down on a refrigerator pad. As a computer science major maybe my son could work on that, or how to clone a pen that writes upside down on a refrigerator. Or maybe he could invent a time machine, so I could go back to a time of having a body without  lines and sags. But that’s a pipe dream for sure.

    Arriving at the university at 8:30, we had to rush through the registration line, running into the administration building to  have his picture taken.

     “What do you think?” he said as he held out his new student ID. He looked like he’d been caught in a tornado; the tornado won.

    “Looks great,” I said. “I can’t wait to show it to Dad,” he replied. But did he have to?

    My parents’ packet included information banking options, bookstore mementos and the joys of what looked like dorm rooms the right size for a squirrel. As Adam was dragged away with an orientation program assistant for his own special conference, I followed  other middleaged adults I surmised were parents into an auditorium so that they could discuss education options (read: how to afford college).

    At lunch time we met up at the dining hall, which I thought would be a great moment for a thoughtful, serious  conversation on what college life and the future would bring. What commanded his thoughts? The amazing variety of food.

    “We don’t have this in our cafeteria,” he enthusiastically opined, spreading his arms out to showcase the food stations around us. At one place you could get a hamburger with anything on it and fries, at another several kinds of pasta; yet another have several soup combinations. And chocolate. There was chocolate cake, chocolate cookies, brownies, chocolate and vanilla swirled

ice-cream. Maybe that talk could wait till later. Now it was time to sample half those desserts.

    The afternoon session, while Adam and his peers were seeing advisors and signing up for courses, we middleaged fogeys were entertained about what college would bring for our children, and ourselves. Some wore purple, some wore yellow and black stripes (like bees) and pretended they were surprised by their "new" children, coming home much different after only a semester at college in their leather skirts and tight jeans.

    They specifically showed teens home on break dressed in a punk look of micro mini-skirt, heavy eye makeup and spiked hair, exerting their independence by announcing they would be home late, causing concern for the parents, who realized they had to adjust to this strange new person.

    Then they turned around and  also showed teens who wanted to go home the first weekend, who didn’t consider college their real home and were homesick right away. Being the independent middle child, I figured Adam’s adjustment to this brave new world of possibilities would be somewhere in-between. But as I slowly walked with him back to the car later, I knew that as he inched toward independence, the “real” adjustment for a student away from home would have to be mine. As I thought about it, the adjustment would be more mine, in more ways than one. I needed another focus.

    I considered  going back to college myself.

    While Adam had successfully gone through college and gotten a job using his computer skills for a company for away, I looked at Master’s programs close to home. After he graduated college, I decided to get back in the academic game again and see what it was like. It was not that easy; it required a lot of reading and preparation, which took my focus away from my sons and gave me the opportunity to see what possibilities were out there for me. And it’s been worth it.

    Whatever I do, I know encouraging my son’s independence and (eventually) mine, is the best thing a good mother can do.

                                                      - 30 -

   

Great First Night in House in storm

    You don't expect that your first night in the house you just got the deed for would maybe, no longer be there. I was a little worried about
that. Our first night in the house was in a great storm!
    Why, oh why, must we have this hurricane-tornadolike weather? The lights were blinking as the husband was using the electric pump to blow up our mattress -- yes, we were "camping out" in the house -- and I worried the lights flickering meant we were stressing out the circuits.
    We went out the front door and he said "Auntie Em!" It looked like a tornado might be close by, the branches of our small trees out front were literally being 'wrenched' back and forth. I felt sorry for the trees. I would feel even sorrier if something fell on the house we just bought.
    But the lights and everything electric had gone out now. This, our first night in the house! There was hardly anything in the house as we still had flooring to be put in and we were there, specifically, to take adavanage of the great electricity from the heat pump that was cooling ALL the rooms, something our rented house did not have. And all of a sudden, poof, it was gone, no electric, no escape from the high 90s outside. Or was it maybe a tiny bit lower?
     It probably was not that low outside, temperaturewise, as this was a weird storm. Dark and gloomy clouds, very high winds and no rain, to speak of. The  newspaper gave it a Spanish name, techerecho, or something like that! It is mostly a wind storm, and at the end of our block it caused a mature maple to almost split in two, and bring down a wire to the home in back of it (luckily, not ours). Even if we do have insurance, I would like the house to stay in one piece!
    By this time it was getting "really dark" in and out of the house,so Fran ran across to the neighbors and asked for a flashlight. The wind was still whipping things around and I wasn't brave enought to go out there with him. He brought back some of those white 'storm' candles and a lighter, dumped our almonds into some aluminum foil, and created a holder for the candles by lighting them and dripping the melted wax into the bottom of the tin. Then he set them in it and there they stood! Not bad for a former boy scout!
    You never think about hurricanelike weather this far inland in June. We did get the air mattress inflated before the lights went out, and opened our "one" window with a screen so we could get some breeze from outside. But at 11 pm or so a neighbor must  have been bored in the dark and started playing the drums, in a neighborhood with no electricity at all! It was difficult to get to sleep.
    I hear people in the bigger cities like Roanoke still may not have their power  -- ours came back on in the middle of the night. I went to bed early but the drummer and cars driving by and hitting the house with headlights were no help!
    Our second night was better. I guess it would have to be.

Optimism with new house of one's own

     When you get, obtain, purchase (whatever you call it) a house of one's own it is a big deal. You can put holes in the wall wherever you want. You can keep the lights on all night (though you wouldn't since "you" are paying all the bills now!), you can landscape and decorate however you want. You have a "place to stay". 
     We have lived for years in substandard student housing. It was very "close" to where we work, but it was in the midst of student partying and we older folks didn't quite fit in. Will we fit in in this new neighborhood of families and such? Sure hope so. We want to fit in somewhere and get to know our neighbors -- I think we will have things in common. Having a place of one's own is a responsibility, but also fun. It is something to feel upbeat about!

Pursuing Writing Seems healthy, can be frustrating

     It seems the writing life (and by that, I mean striving to be a writer and learn more about it) agrees with me. I will be moving soon and I have a plethora of notebooks, hopefully with intelligent, helping writing material in them or ideas for writing articles and books. My oldest son has reminded me he will one day toss my magazines I save. But will he save my very own notebooks, especially the ones with some humor? Humor is good for your health and sometimes the writing life too.
    So I "helped" my writing life by going to a writer's club meeting at a fancy new library to learn about the publishing business. It is interesting that our speaker,  Kathleen Delaney, had lived out in CA. and written about the wine industry there. Wines -- made from grapes grown in a certain soil, picked at a certain time, fermenting for a certain length of time. It's very much an outdoor occupation, an interesting kind of work. And they say some wine is good for you, although, as a breast cancer survivor I'm not "supposed" to drink alcohol -- don't know if it's the sugar content (did you know cancer "loves" sugar) or the alchohol. Sugar all around is not too healthy an option, although a Dr. Wright says xylitol may actually prevent tooth decay (and is used in some gums).
    Anyway, guest speaker Delaney has some unique cozy mysteries out -- one is out by Poisoned Pen Press: And Murder for Dessert. She pointed out that she took adult extension courses to learn how to deal with things like structure, form and creating relationships in her writing. I think a lot of people just interested in memoirs could do something like that.
    Our meeting was at the "Tah Mahal"  of libraries  -- the new "Southside Library" in Roanoke, VA -- wow, with its big Marquee out front, like a half mile from this "edifice," and tribute to reading. There was a huge parking lot with a spacious downstairs. And besides book shelves there was an auditorium where they were showing a movie, and snack bar nearby (what? in a library, what is this, Barnes and Noble). And upstairs a private reading room with a fireplace (what is this, somebody's house) and with a big paperback book section too. The reference rep sais it only cost  around $15 million. Your tax dollars at work. And man, did they work! I need to come back sometime, for dinner and a movie! Ah, and also books, maybe books on writing.

Working the computer can be stressful

     I thought for a while I didn't have my  "antivirus" gizmo working. I am not the most computer savvy and  and was worried I could get a virus and ruin the computer and what was saved to it. Then, I bought a version and it didn't do squat. So I went to "find" it on the computer, opened it, put in what I thought was the "license" info and it seemed to activate. Then I restated the computer and it said it had no antivirus protection! In state of stress I contacted the company and in the meantime it seemed to straighten itself out now "I think" it's working! Phew.