January 2, 2014--WARNING: Sports Action Violence

This holiday season we've actually gone to the movies three times. Out to the movies in a movie theater, not just watching them at home on DVDs.

Thus far we've seen--Woody Allen's Blue Jasmine, 12 Years A Slave, and the Coen brothers Inside Llewyn Davis.

All were disappointing.

Blue Jasmine felt like a series of two-dimensional cliches about the rich and poor. The rich vapid and hollow, the working poor violent and virtuous.

12 Years A Slave, though it reminds one of the unspeakable cruelty of that "peculiar institution," also was superficial, with the slaves essentially noble and the owners psychopathic. Of course there are elements of truth in this; but, I felt, if you want a more moving and insightful view of this American nightmare, get hold of Roots on disc or, if you'd like something brilliant and unsettlingly controversial, take a look at Django Unchained.

As for Inside Llewyn, if you're searching for a mean-spirited portrayal of the folk music scene in 1961 Greenwich Village, this flick is for you. Even the music in the film, which in real time was often clever and full of fun, was turgid. And the Coens' picture of the Village back then was far from what I remember. To them it was empty and grim; to me it was tumultuous and exciting, with of course the usual down and dark sides.

To distract myself, especially during the disappointing Llewyn, for some reason I found myself thinking about the movie rating system. The one that warns potential moviegoers about nudity, sex, and violence. Or at least the old G-to-X system that prevailed until more recent years when the list of warnings, especially to parents, increased dramatically.

For example, the preview we saw for what I suspect will be a leading candidate for the stupidest picture of the year, the Robert De Niro-Sylvester Stallone film Grudge Match, has among its warnings "Sports Action Violence." I doubt if the really good Rocky I, which Grudge rips off, had such a warning even though Sly spent a lot of time in a meat locker beating up on bloody sides of beef.

Midnight Cowboy, the first mainstream X-rated movie, back in 1969 received an X because of its "Homosexual Frame of Reference." How far we've come. Today it would probably be rated PG-13.

On the other hand, moviegoers are now warned about "Unsettling Images," "Sexual References," "Drug Use," "Smoking," and, my current favorite, for the film Walking With Dinosaurs, "Creature Action and Peril."

This proliferation of warning categories reminds me of all the safety labels on things such as step ladders, bicycles, and kiddy car seats. Some of this is because of litigiousness; some because we have devolved into a culture that over-coddles children; and, more generally, we have become a people paralyzed by all sorts of unknowable threats.

But when it comes to new categories for Motion Picture Association warnings, those I would welcome include--

For Blue Jasmine--Pervasive Cliches.

For 12 Years A Slave--Superficial Social Issues.

For Inside Llewyn Davis--Only for those Who Know Nothing About the 1960s.

October 3, 2013--It Was My Party

Here's what we actually did yesterday--

We didn't see Blue Jasmine. We didn't go to Primo. Or for that matter Cafe Solo.

We did go out early to Chrissy's where I had two of the best croissants available outside Paris. I indulged in a double espresso with steamed milk on the side.

Then, surprising myself, I said, "Let's drive to Camden and after that stop in Rockport on the way home." It was 80 degrees out by the time we got there. While walking around, I noticed a small sign for a 'Doctor Margaret Zwerling'.

As there are very few of us, we went to her office and discovered we are related somehow since ancestors of ours came from the same Austrian village. Though she, unlike me, did not have any known horse thieves in her background. But she does have a brother Steve, actually Stephen.

Around the corner from her is Leslie Curtis Designs. We had read that they have nice wicker pieces and since we have been looking for new porch chairs we went in. It didn't hurt that she is a former wife of Tony Curtis and helped raise Jamie Lee. One of my favorites.  And, to boot, there are a couple of chairs we are considering.

At the Rite Aid drugstore, where we went for a bottle of water, Rona insisted on my buying a $2.00 scratch-off lottery ticket. In many ways I have been and continue to be a lucky boy, but that didn't carry over when it came to this. I'll keep the ticket as a souvenir and a reminder to invest my money more wisely.

We spent an hour sitting on a bench gazing out into lovely Rockport harbor. A Maine classic. We almost fell asleep in the sun but pushed on. To perk us up we stopped at a Dunkin Donut overlooking Rockland harbor. A bit more commercial but the pumpkin donut that we shared was a seasonal treat.

Rona kept asking what I wanted to do for dinner. "Maybe eat out," Is said. There are a couple of modest places still open and Rona seemed game for either.

But, as a backup, we went to a local farmer's market where we bought a couple of heirloom tomatoes and newly harvested tiny potatoes. Also, a couple of tree-ripened pears and a large handful of pole beans.

"All we need now are some New Harbor beef medallions from Reilly's," Rona said, "And we'll be ready to cook at home or go out. You're still have those options."

"We do have that wonderful Bordeaux," I reminded Rona, as if she needed reminding. "Maybe just drink that with some Weatherbird's bread and hand-churned Maine butter?"

"We'll see," she said.

"Just as long as we're done with dinner so we can watch Mary Tyler Moore."

"And Bob Newhart," Rona made sure to add.

So that's what we did--I roasted the potatoes with Rosemary straight from Rona's garden, steamed the beans, grilled the steak, sliced the heirlooms, and we managed to drink almost the entire bottle.

I watched MTM but feel asleep halfway through Newhart.

It was a perfect day.