Japan, Packers and the Red Scare

Well, there's lots to discuss. So, no hor d'ouvres (how does one spell that? and why?), instead, let's to the meat and potatoes:

I spent most of November Learning to Bow and happily, too. Bruce Feiler's swiftly moving account of the Japanese education system as seen through the eyes of an American teacher, abroad for a year, cuts quickly to life behind the screens. I surprisingly enjoyed it... only surprisingly because it had been required reading for a high school history class, and I guess I never did read it, until now, when I don't have to, but choose to. It's funny how that works, reading and doing things when one doesn't have to instead of when one does have to... but that's life, right?

The point I want to make, though, is how EXACT Feiler is with his account. Little, of course, do I know about the Japanese, but during the proverbial (?) busiest travel weekend of the year, I found myself sharing close quarters with a lovely Japanese woman on an airplane (yes, I was one of the 1.8 million who passed through O'Hare this weekend). All I did was offer to help her with the coat and large purse she was holding, and she bowed to me, arigato, arigato. She was so kind, so polite, so by-the-book. I don't know, I was happy to be there. Call me crazy.

Packer Country
My job has taken me to Green Bay this weekend. What a crazy little place ... the actual city of Green Bay is sparse by any account of a city of such name recognition: a few shops, bars and banks, but mostly nothing. Drive less than ten minutes to Lambeu Field and you'll find a wealth of restaurants, movie palaces, luxury hotels, shopping meccas and the like. But hey, that's why people come here, right? Lucky for me the game was out-of-town this weekend.

Clooney Does Murrow
While near one of those movie palaces, having unloaded some of that cash that keeps growing on trees at a shopping mecca, I stopped in and caught a matinee of Good Night, and Good Luck. The theatre was TINY ... less than 90 seats and a screen small enough to rival my iPod screen (which, by the way, is supposed to be that small). The 90-minute film was also tiny. The beginning of the film used scrolling text to explain some narrative material -- hello? Anybodys home? It was like a high-school film class project... in fact, I think the one JJ and I did was better (perhaps someday I'll tell you about our experiences shooting Pocket Change). The choice of silence as the soundtrack was unnerving and made me squirm - I want a score! Give me a score! Oh, he sort of listened... the jazz crooning seemed out of place and--perhaps?--used only to extend the length of the flick? I dunno. I guess I just didn't get it.

I did, however, see some other movies this turkey day week: Walk the Line was fabulous! Shopgirl okay, Ice Harvest worse than anything I've ever seen in my life. Yech.

Apologies for no links or pictures this post. Maybe it's because you've been bad boys and girls. Coming when I have 'net access next: time zones, a dough boy commerical... and, if you're good, strangers in bathing suits.