I know! Jess Riley totally left a comment on my blog!!! (Yes, I also know that 3 exclamation points are grammatically incorrect, but it's appropriate here.) Discovering her comment was a new level of awesomeness for me.
I don't review movies because I'm pathetically behind the general population in watching them these days. BC (Before Children) I watched them all the time. I was one of those people who saw all the Best Picture Nominees before the Academy Awards aired. Now I'm lucky to catch one of them 2 years later.
That said, I have to endorse a movie we rented while in Colorado. Lars and the Real Girl. It was beyond what I expected, sweet, funny, tear-jerking and really? Not about a pervert with a sex doll. It was a film about compassion and understanding and love. The setting and performances were peerless and the script was incredible.
Rent this film. Thank me later.
The Bumble Book Club meets today at 1:00 and I have 50 pages left in The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin. I love this book and have been really disenchanted with politics lately. As a former debate coach and politics junkie, this book sang to me. And it reminded me of how very important this presidential election will be. People, we can't f*ck this up again. Seriously. Don't believe me? Read The Nine. I've either repressed or forgotten so much of the last 8 years and this book gave me fresh perspective.
I bought The Nine for my dad last Christmas. He's a die-hard Republican who thinks the Current Occupant is a Brilliant Leader. I didn't realize the liberal bent of this book, so to make up for it I'll give him this for his birthday:
Maybe he'll forgive me. Or maybe he's not that mad in the first place since he never mentioned it.
Last night was perfect. Mr. B had soccer and Mr. G was reasonably behaved during his game. It was stifling hot, but Shazaam! won their game. We meandered over to the baseball fields in our park complex and watched Mr. T play baseball. The air cooled as we sat in the shade and the sun went down. My children disappeared into the playground with all the other players' siblings and I chatted with the other moms in the bleachers. We've lived here 5 years and I'm not "local" but I think I'm definitely "familiar" now. Mr. B and Mr. G returned regularly for cash to spend at the concession stand where Mr. G's day care teacher worked. I should've set up a tab or given her $20 and gone back for change at the end of the night for as many trips as I made over with my wallet. Anyway, we enjoyed popcorn and slushies, sunflower seeds and Skittles. Mr. T got on base twice and only struck out once. He HIT THE BALL!!! (Really--this also deserves excessive punctuation--he's been stepping back from the plate all season in mortal terror of being hit by the pitcher.) In the second inning he picked up a ball from center field and crow hopped and threw it into the infield beautifully--without hesitation or error.
Grandparents, mothers, uncles, siblings sat around the blessedly mosquito-free diamond and cheered for their teams. Mr. T's lost (the other team is shamelessly stacked with traveling tournament team players) and we got home at the late hour of 9:30--covered in sticky trails of sugar and the fine dust of ballpark sand.
I felt glad to live in a small town and enjoy the night with my fellow Americans. It was good to be surrounded by decent, hardworking people whose lives are filled with drama, laughter and Little League baseball.