Curling

And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor,
And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
-- Francis Bret Harte

Sunday, March 12, 2000
One year ago: No Green Pajamas
Two years ago: Hiding Things

Two years ago, I said something that I thought was very funny and clever! One year ago, we had a great musicality lesson at Friday Night Practice.

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On the trufen list, the folks who were at Corflu and Potlatch are jonesing for Seattle. I suggested that if people want to come back again, they should consider doing the trip on the first weekend of any month. Then they can come to Vanguard and be the visiting firefighters! One list member replied, "This sounds promising! Exactly what kind of fuss are you willing to make over a visiting firefighter?" Turns out that he really is a volunteer firefighter! But I was using the phrase metaphorically. "Visiting Fireman" usually means someone from out of town who is being shown a good time.

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This was another weekend where I helped get Jack's daughter H---- up to Bellingham. She's thirteen, so is almost old enough to take the train or bus by herself, on a direct trip, but Jack understandably doesn't want her to have to change trains or wait around bus stations. The Friday night train she took this weekend and previously doesn't get to Seattle until almost ten, which means we don't get to Bellingham until after eleven. But the drive isn't bad, since late means less traffic.

I was a bit concerned when I started the car to go to the train station -- the dashboard lights in my car wouldn't come on! This happened before, when I'd inadvertantly hit the intstrument on the dash intended for dimming the dash panel lights. But when I fussed with that wheel, I could only get the dash lights by having all the interior lights on -- weird! I felt like I was in a movie! They always have very odd lighting inside the car on night driving scenes, so you can see the actors.

Jack decided that he and I should sleep on the downstairs futon Friday. He said he had stuff disarranged in his bedroom, which would make setting up the trundle bed inconvenient. This wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind when I'd talked about "breaking in" the futon, back when he bought it! But I was ok with it, and it wasn't uncomfortable.

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Saturday afternoon, Jack had a concom meeting for Vikingcon already scheduled. So H--- and I dropped him off on the college campus after a good, quick Mexican-food lunch, then went off to the grocery store. This shopping trip was needed, because we'd decided to try to see The Tigger Movie at one theater, then Mission to Mars at another, with no time for dinner in between. I'd suggested that we bring food along and eat in the car (or sneak it into the theater) so we needed to get the makings for that.

H---- and I did some kitchen cleanup, then I made turkey-swiss sandwiches on good sourdough bread. Jack walked home from his meeting (not a long distance).

The Tigger Movie was good, but I don't know if I'd recommend it for little kids, and that's the intended audience. The ending is extreme, with the characters caught in an avalanche. Little Roo's hurt and longing for connection with Tigger, and Tigger's loneliness without family, made me cry!

I was glad that we got to the theater for Mission to Mars in good time -- it did fill up! We'd scarfed down the food in the car. I distributed some lindor chocolates. I realized that I'd miscalculated, back at the grocery store. There were three different sorts of lindor chocolate balls in the bulk bins: milk, dark, and peppermint. I'd intended for each of us to get two of each, but then I'd only picked up six chocolates -- two of each, not three! This mini-crisis turned out ok, since Jack didn't want the peppermint ones anyway. It was like some sort of brain teaser to figure out the distribution.

Mission to Mars had flaws, but I was glad to have seen it in the theater. The special effects were the best part! (Gary Sinise's eyeliner almost counts as a special effect, but it doesn't help the movie.) There are plot flaws and improbabilities (why is the mission control in a space station? it could perfectly well be on Earth.) but I didn't hate it.

Jack was really irate! The physical impossibilities of the rescue mission's orbital insertion really got him going afterwards, along with other stuff. I didn't disagree, but I finally told him "tell it to slashdot!"

The third movie was The Matrix, watched on video at home, after the first two. H---- had never seen it before. She was confused at times, of course. I think you need a flowchart to keep track, the first time you see it!

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Both Saturday morning and today, Jack and H---- got a big kick out of watching curling on the CBC channel. This Canadian sport has some of the appeal of bowling, on TV. The player who pushes the stone (called an "iron" I think) down the ice calls out commands to the other players, who sweep the ice in front in order to make the stone turn in or out, and end up where they want it. The pusher shouts these orders in strange grunts, which tickled us. H---- started imitating them. "Hunh!" "Wha!"

I took H--- back down to Seattle with me, and made sure she got on the train ok.