Thursday, January 15, 2004

Minus Zero





-5.4. That's right. Minus-five-point-four Farenheit. Right after I took this snapshot, I stepped outside, and closed the door. For the first few seconds, I thought: It's not so bad. But after ten seconds (I was counting) the bitter brittle air started to tighten its cold group around my exposed hands and face. I stepped back inside.

As I write this, nearly thirty minutes later, the temperature on my outdoor thermometer is reading -6.3. Minus six-point-three. My hands are only now beginning to feel warm.

New England is in the midst of its coldest weather in years. It's the lead story in every media outlet. The weekend's forecast is going to be in the mid-thirties, and we're looking forward to it! Our only consolation: No snow. But the blustery wind is making up for that deficit.

Best Movies Watched in 2003

I watched 56 movies in 2003, twelve of which I watched in the theater. The rest I watched on DVD or on cable television. Here were some highlights:

Tuesday, January 13, 2004

Best Books Read in 2003

My Previous Best Books: 2001, 2002.

I read seventeen books last year. Three of them were "graphic novels" (comics), which I read during the buzz of American Splendor. Two of the books, Mystic River and Matchstick Men, I read strictly because I knew I was going to watch their movies. These turned out to be terrific books.

My favorite book from 2003 was Empire Falls. This book is by Richard Russo, and it won the 2002 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. This is such a beautiful book, it's almost indescribable. Many times as I was reading it, I openly marveled at how lovingly the sentences were put together. They were rich with imagery.

One sample: "She gave him a smile in which hope and knowledge were going at it, bare-knuckled, equally and eternally matched."

Now how good is that? You don't even have to know the plot or the characters to see what her face must look like.

As a whole, the bookie story is about a man coming to terms with his own self, with his own dreams, with his own struggles. We spend a lot of time inside the main character's head, and I found myself pulling for him as I turned every page. This is a book I deliciously savored over the summer. I hope to devour this again!

Friday, January 9, 2004

Tweet

It's so cold that I can feel my nose hairs freeze when I breathe through my nose. They feel like tiny icicles.

The weather reports said that the sun would be ineffective today. Indeed.

Thursday, January 8, 2004

Fifty Letters

My resolution this year is to write fifty letters to people.

That's right: fifty actual letters that I will send by postal mail. I was buying stamps at the post office last month, and they were selling a sheet of fifty stamps, each stamp bearing one of the fifty states. In an impulse, I bought the sheet ($18.50), and declared to myself that I'll use this sheet to return to letter writing.

Of course, since that time, I haven't written a single letter. But fifty letters over the course of a year should be doable. My wife actually suggested I write a hundred. But let me settle for fifty. First letter will bear Alabama.

Sunday, January 4, 2004

Cut Time

I posted the list of books that I read and the list of movies that I watched in 2003. I'll be picking out my favorites from these two lists over the next few days.

A few days ago, I finished reading my first book in 2004, a splendid book about boxing called Cut Time by Carlo Rotella. I'm a moderate fan of boxing. The few times that I've admitted this in public, I was met with ridicule. "Boxing is so barbaric!" some would say. Now I can urge these folks to read this book. It's a surprisingly moving account of boxing and the relationship of boxing to life. Carlo's writing reaches such tender notes that you'll have to remind yourself that the book is about the kind of people that purposely seek to hurt and be hurt.

Thursday, January 1, 2004

New Year's Reminisce

For nearly all my time growing up, until the years after I got married, I spent New Year's at my cousin's house, in a suburb near Washington, D.C. The four of us would meander through the long New Year's eve day, eating plenty of food (my aunt hosted a hearty party every New Year's eve), playing with new toys, and watching plenty of television. When the New Year rang in, cheers of "Happy New Year" were shouted and choruses of Auld Lang Syne were sung. More eating. More TV.

Jenn, my wife, attended the festivities a few times, and knows what we're missing.

I miss the party every year I don't go. As I get older, all I really want to do is be a kid again, scampering among the toys, eating too much food, and yelling Happy New Year into the quiet midnight evening.

Hello 2004. Happy New Year!