Nose Dive

It's remarkable how a simple thing can make you so happy. Many thanks to Zack for building such a bodacious hill and to the Evans' for letting us borrow it for a little while. Considering Emma's dad works all night and the works again most of the day, Emma doesn't get so much of a chance to do fun things when the rest of the world is doing them. When you get your very own sled for Christmas, not sledding with friends (or potential friends) is a really tough thing to do. Dad had been sizing up some local parks, trying to find a place that his bad back could tackle with his energetic 5 year old with out much success. When our cousin, Dan, told me about Zack's sledding hill I was psyched. The ideal hill seemed to have appeared. Attempts to visit Zack and Carrie's however were futile (dad had trouble at the pizza store for a couple weeks) so Emma and her poor sled waited patiently.

At last, almost a month after the sledding hill was christened, we were finally able to take advantage of the Evans' offer to try out the facility. Emma could not have been more happy. Taking nose dives off the now exposed edges seemed to thrill as much as a run down the center - which only happened once - and culminated in Emma hitting the embankment at the bottom with top speed - launching herself over the lip and landing gracefully, skids level. Emma enjoyed trying "the other hill" (also known as the gentle slope of Carrie's front lawn) with near equal pleasure.

When your little girl wants something so wholesome so badly, and you can't deliver, it breaks your heart. Finally making good on a promise to the greatest little girl in the world, that's about enough to make me get all misty. Thanks for giving me the chance to make a 5 year old happy Zack - I owe you one.

Valkyrie

Four of Five Stars
Rated PG-13

It's the greatest WWII story that's never been told. However, as the list of great movie thrillers is compiled through the ages, Valkyrie likely won't be at the top of the list. There were things that bothered me about the film, things that kept it from being great. But in the absence of "great" we get "pretty darn awesome." The suspense is well built and comes to nail biting crossroads at several times in the film. True to the historical events on which the screenplay is written, the film bleeds sincerity.

It is this realistic look at the inner circle of the Fuhrer that makes the movie so devilishly delicious. An amazing performance by David Bamber reveals a neurotic and increasingly recluse Hitler. The "creep" factor of watching someone emulate the socialist leader so accurately is worth the watch alone. Costuming was exquisite as were the period vehicles. Filming on location also added to the mystique of watching someone try to assassinate Hitler and bring an early end to the war.

Sadly this magic is broken by the lack of dedication to some details. While I'm glad the producers & director elected not to try to elicit German accents from the entire cast, I was shaken to hear generals speak to each other in British accents. Sometimes Cruise's lack of accent was equally distracting, but the actor himself was not. As with many of this films, Tom Cruise did not so much add anything to the film as he did not spoil it. A solid performance where Cruise is Cruise (regardless of whether he is a samurai, as spy, or German soldier) actually anchored the film - due to the fact that he LOOKED so right in the role. Upon further investigation, he is a remarkable match to the real Lieutenant Stauffenburg as are almost everyone else in film who mirror a real person.

In the end, you may not fully understand socialism without first understanding Wagner, but no affinity for period films or war stories is needed to enjoy this suspenseful thriller with the amazing true-life story.

Where I Want To Go When I Almost Die

I'm not looking forward to any of the myriad of potentially life threatening conditions that may beset me, but it's likely that at least one will happen at some point. Take my brother for instance: Rob suffered an episode of extreme arrhythmia that required a trip to the hospital AND a three night stay at the ICU in the cardiac unit. Not fun - for Rob at least.

I'm almost ashamed to say it, but I did kinda have fun keeping the 'ol bro's spirits up. It may not have been as much fun if he were immobilized or visibly damaged but he was just so darn normal. No artificial breathing not even an I.V. for crying out loud. He was at high risk for a repeat episode of his original troubles so they kept him in the ICU while waiting for surgery. In the mean time, Rob (like anyone in his position) gets a little board, a little stir crazy, so I volunteer to visit and relive the monotony. XBOX to the rescue! We both agreed that bringing the games to the hospital would be the ideal time passer, so with permission, I return a few hours later with the 360.

Here's where things start to move in Doug's favor. We plug into the HD LCD TV in Rob's room and game away. I'm taking the next day off so I elect to stay late in an attempt to wear Rob out. Ends up that we game for about four hours straight and I get in another couple hours in after Rob wimps out (j/k the man was working on 3 hrs sleep out of 60) and catches some Z's. Rob's surgery the next day is postponed 24hrs and I, considering I still had the day off, return for another night of gaming.

Though I can't imagine being in Rob's position, I was amazed at what a great time I was having. Here were two brothers who seldom see each other forced into spending endless hours bonding over video games, favorite TV shows, food, cars, helicopters and any number of other topics. Add to that the good fortune of being kindly offered refills on my Diet Coke by the night shift nurse, and I ended up with two days of great times with my brother. It is, of course, a tragedy that my brother needed to suffer a near death experience and an invasive surgery all while scaring the living b'geezes out of everyone - but if clouds have silver linings, these were sterling indeed.

Rock On

Everyone ought to have an (i)Dog. Especially if you can't have a real dog. As virtual pets go, they're the best. They listen to music with you, dance, bark and feel the mood of the music. Playing mopy music? iDog feels depressed. Rub his head and play with his nose and he perks up. Play with his tail and he gets mad. What does all this mean to me? I feel happy! Everyone should own an (i)Dog.

Say Cheese!

Mom got the best present of Christmas award with the gargantuan doll house. Dad got the best birthday present award with a real digital camera for Emma. If our camera comes out to take pictures, Emma inevitably wants to take some too. It was apparent that a camera for Em was a safe bet - and one that let's you take pictures with princesses too? Guaranteed winner. In the photo above Emma takes her newly opened present out for a spin while shopping at target. She set up her shot in front of customer service, told everyone to smile then turned the camera around to show everyone (20 feet away) how they looked.

Just Swimmingly

Emma is now 5. Where do 5 year old Emma's dream of celebrating their birthdays? At the pool of course! Apparently that too is where Emma's cousins dream of partying because we had a big "girls party" at the pool.

Emma was treated to many nifty presents - not one of them received less than elations of joy. Great joy continued as Emma swam about, riding the slide some dozen times with cousins. uncles and, more times than anyone else, Grandpa David. She left the pool so worn out she fell asleep waiting for her dinner. More pool parties are in order!

Something Special

Christmas was something special this year because an abiding belief in the reality of Santa Claus was present in our house.  We initially were worried such a faith did not yet exist for Emma.  We helped Emma send a letter to Santa not long before Thanksgiving but she didn't seem too sure that the big blue mailbox was going to get her letter (which was, in fact, a picture of a specific doll house she wanted - rendered in all the detail a nearly 5 year old can muster) to Santa Claus.

Although things seemed to change slowly, Christmas songs and dances at pre-school seemed to fuel the dubious suspicion that a man who gives out toys might truly exist.  By the week of Christmas, doubt was little more than a fog for Emma.  In fact, her belief in Santa Claus became horribly apparent when I almost crushed my daughters heart by driving to the wrong place to meet our engagement on "The Polar Express."  Emma was concerned she would not make it to the North Pole to confirm the existence of the Jolly Elf (and to pass along her list) and I was crushed, nearly to tears, to think that the excitement of Christmas may have been dashed by none other than myself.

Apparently my attempts to conceal my anguish were not as good as I had hoped.  The management at the Heber Valley Railroad, noticing a potential problem, went out of their way to investigate cancellations and help me re-book a ride the next day on the last "Polar" train.  Thanks to my agreeable co-workers I was able to secure the night off and we successfully boarded "The Polar Express."  The payoff was profound.  Emma nearly floated from her seat at the chance to see Santa Claus board the train at the North Pole and distribute his "first gifts of Christmas" which had fallen from Rudolph's harness.  Her excitement was so great that she forgot her list, and instead sparkled at being called by name and receiving a hug from the man in red velvet robes.

When Christmas morning arrived, Emma delighted to seeing a rather large present before the tree, and a conspicuous envelope with her name on it.  Inside was a letter from Santa himself and the picture she had drawn in November.  Behind the wrapping was the precise dollhouse she had tried to describe.  There was now no doubt: Santa was real.  "I sent Santa my letter in the mail and it was a dollhouse picture and he gave me the doll house and he brought back the letter so I could see it was the same one!" she would tell anyone who asked even an innocuous question about her holiday experience.  

Never before have I been so pleased to be part of a conspiracy.  The vast perpetration of a grand secret on so many people has made Christmas for me, once again, special.