A Couple of Thoughts
Since I was housebound for the weekend and continue to be for today, I have only the Sunday paper, Netflix, and the internet to guide me through the outside world.
So, here are a few of my unsolicited thoughts, opinions, and memories.
Malcolm X
This movie came out in 1992 when I was in sixth grade in a small little corner of Iowa. I never saw it because I was 12 and because, surprisingly, movies about controversial figures don't find themselves in many living rooms near me. My parents don't watch anything that doesn't end with a giggle or a happy pop song.
I was, however, exposed to the "X" hat craze that exploded thereafter. I can't find an example of one now (after diligently searching Google and eBay for 1.5 seconds) but they were black baseball caps, each with a different neon-colored "X" on the front. Every boy in the middle school had one and I had no idea where they got them. I do remember knowing just enough about Malcolm X to put him in the same category as MLK Jr. (y'know, the "Afro-American" category) and was also encouraged that so many of my fellow classmates had such respect and understanding of the Civil Rights Movement.
Two years later, in eighth grade, we had to each write our "middle school manifesto" about where we were and then we compiled them into a lovely book that I no doubt threw away somewhere around tenth grade in an embarrassing fit after rereading my lengthy uninformative diatribe about finding myself.
But these boys, the same ones who sported the X hats that I was jealous of, wrote, one after another, about how much they loved Hitler, white people, and guns. These were not well thought out pieces, detailing anything insightful about these adorations, just that they loved Hitler, thought he was right, that they would work hard to prove the white man rules, and they loved their guns. And they spelled "Nazi" wrong a lot.
I was so confused. Even for shock value purposes, what was the point? I didn't understand the oxymoron of the two things and I really believe I lost respect for almost every boy who wrote that throughout the rest of high school. (Thereby giving me the perfect excuse to skip my ten year reunion this year. "I'm so sorry, Tracy, I won't be attending because my classmates are white supremacists, or at least were in 1994.")
Anyway, I finally watched the movie, which was very well done and Denzel is awesome as always, but through the whole thing, I kept thinking about how incredibly stupid those caps were to sell to 12-year-old boys and how stupid I had been for being jealous of their "understanding."
Writer's Strike
So, supposedly, there is a deal in place because the "rehab centers" in southern California would fill up if Hollywood didn't get its histronics needs met with the Academy Awards. I'm glad they figured this out because I really do believe the writers were getting screwed.... but I really don't freaking care.
First of all, if all they're going to write is more television like "Lipstick Jungle," then please, stay on strike. They're not worth the raise.
Second of all, I understand that this significantly impacted the geographic regions of L.A. and New York. Strikes have a tendency to do that.
But I was thinking back to my senior year of college when all of the administrative personnel who worked for the state of Minnesota went on strike for lack of benefits and inadequate wages and poor healthcare. The entire city of Winona practically shut down, including Winona State, and it was a massive hardship on everyone in the town for the four weeks it went on. I participated in rallies and marched with them. I read article after article about the strike.
And I don't remember reading one iota of information about how much the residents of Hollywood and New York were concerned and interested in helping out the administrative personnel in the state of Minnesota. They didn't seem to run websites dedicated to helping them recover their lost wages in order to fight an oppressive system. I don't remember a peep about it on Jay Leno or David Letterman.
It finally makes sense then why I ceased to care about this and really couldn't get worked up. It didn't affect me. At all. It affected friends of my friends, sure, and for that, I was always on the writer's side. But geographically speaking, it didn't matter to me. I couldn't bring myself to care. Because there are people who are just as badly off, who perhaps lose their jobs unwillingly because a factory was shut down or a plant closed in small town Iowa, and nary a peep will ever leave the direct regional location affected. Sure, it's the way life works. But then it also seems close-minded to assume this had any widespread impact on the greater good.
In my opinion, it really didn't.
Oh well. At least it's (potentially) over, though I am enjoying watching "Iron Eagle" now and again due to lack of new material.
So, here are a few of my unsolicited thoughts, opinions, and memories.
Malcolm X
This movie came out in 1992 when I was in sixth grade in a small little corner of Iowa. I never saw it because I was 12 and because, surprisingly, movies about controversial figures don't find themselves in many living rooms near me. My parents don't watch anything that doesn't end with a giggle or a happy pop song.
I was, however, exposed to the "X" hat craze that exploded thereafter. I can't find an example of one now (after diligently searching Google and eBay for 1.5 seconds) but they were black baseball caps, each with a different neon-colored "X" on the front. Every boy in the middle school had one and I had no idea where they got them. I do remember knowing just enough about Malcolm X to put him in the same category as MLK Jr. (y'know, the "Afro-American" category) and was also encouraged that so many of my fellow classmates had such respect and understanding of the Civil Rights Movement.
Two years later, in eighth grade, we had to each write our "middle school manifesto" about where we were and then we compiled them into a lovely book that I no doubt threw away somewhere around tenth grade in an embarrassing fit after rereading my lengthy uninformative diatribe about finding myself.
But these boys, the same ones who sported the X hats that I was jealous of, wrote, one after another, about how much they loved Hitler, white people, and guns. These were not well thought out pieces, detailing anything insightful about these adorations, just that they loved Hitler, thought he was right, that they would work hard to prove the white man rules, and they loved their guns. And they spelled "Nazi" wrong a lot.
I was so confused. Even for shock value purposes, what was the point? I didn't understand the oxymoron of the two things and I really believe I lost respect for almost every boy who wrote that throughout the rest of high school. (Thereby giving me the perfect excuse to skip my ten year reunion this year. "I'm so sorry, Tracy, I won't be attending because my classmates are white supremacists, or at least were in 1994.")
Anyway, I finally watched the movie, which was very well done and Denzel is awesome as always, but through the whole thing, I kept thinking about how incredibly stupid those caps were to sell to 12-year-old boys and how stupid I had been for being jealous of their "understanding."
Writer's Strike
So, supposedly, there is a deal in place because the "rehab centers" in southern California would fill up if Hollywood didn't get its histronics needs met with the Academy Awards. I'm glad they figured this out because I really do believe the writers were getting screwed.... but I really don't freaking care.
First of all, if all they're going to write is more television like "Lipstick Jungle," then please, stay on strike. They're not worth the raise.
Second of all, I understand that this significantly impacted the geographic regions of L.A. and New York. Strikes have a tendency to do that.
But I was thinking back to my senior year of college when all of the administrative personnel who worked for the state of Minnesota went on strike for lack of benefits and inadequate wages and poor healthcare. The entire city of Winona practically shut down, including Winona State, and it was a massive hardship on everyone in the town for the four weeks it went on. I participated in rallies and marched with them. I read article after article about the strike.
And I don't remember reading one iota of information about how much the residents of Hollywood and New York were concerned and interested in helping out the administrative personnel in the state of Minnesota. They didn't seem to run websites dedicated to helping them recover their lost wages in order to fight an oppressive system. I don't remember a peep about it on Jay Leno or David Letterman.
It finally makes sense then why I ceased to care about this and really couldn't get worked up. It didn't affect me. At all. It affected friends of my friends, sure, and for that, I was always on the writer's side. But geographically speaking, it didn't matter to me. I couldn't bring myself to care. Because there are people who are just as badly off, who perhaps lose their jobs unwillingly because a factory was shut down or a plant closed in small town Iowa, and nary a peep will ever leave the direct regional location affected. Sure, it's the way life works. But then it also seems close-minded to assume this had any widespread impact on the greater good.
In my opinion, it really didn't.
Oh well. At least it's (potentially) over, though I am enjoying watching "Iron Eagle" now and again due to lack of new material.