the doves and palms are far away
Yesterday was like a shot of pure adrenaline to my emotions, because of all the red carpet Age of Ultron stuff #code name: group hug, and then the STAR WARS trailer, AND THEN, THE RANGERS GAME. WHEN BRASSARD SCORED 28 SECONDS IN I WAS LIKE IS THIS REAL LIFE? \o/
All night, I was like, MY EMOTIONS. MY EMOTIONS. I was so exhausted afterwards, I just went to bed.
But for all my complaining about the Rangers' inability to clear their own zone, especially in the third period, I'm so glad they won. Now they just need to keep on winning.
And Star Wars: The Force Awakens! Basically this has kind of a low bar to clear for me - it just has to be better than the prequels. I'm not expecting anything more than that. I obviously can't be really objective about the original trilogy, since I was 7 when I saw the first movie (when it came out) and it was a huge, influential part of my childhood, so I'm always going to love it most, but I'm also not expecting the surprising excellence of The Clone Wars, because they had a lot of time to tell a lot of stories on that show, and to layer in complexities for secondary and tertiary characters I doubt these movies will bother with. But in the trailer, when Luke hands that lightsaber to someone else - niece? daughter? - I just got all teary. (Also, if you are a spoilerphobe, avoid the NY Post. The final bit from the trailer is on the front page, in color.)
I really should look into getting a Star Wars icon that isn't about sibling hetcest.
(If Star Wars was my first fandom - well, movie fandom anyway - then the Rangers were the first sports fandom I consciously chose, in 1979, during the finals against Montreal; I inherited being a Mets and Giants fan from my parents and never felt a need to go against that, but I'm the only real hockey fan in my family, by which I mean, I'll watch regular season games and I'll watch teams I don't care about etc., whereas the rest of the fam are playoff-only fans. If the Rangers meet the Islanders in the second round, it'll be like all those heartbreaking series in the '80s I listened to on the radio, because we didn't have cable. That's part of why 1994 was so sweet - they beat the Islanders and the Devils to get to the finals. If they get that far, hopefully they can beat the Islanders again. That would make me very happy.)
As for my current fandom, I'm choosing to be excited more than apprehensive about AoU. I'm saving all my cranky fannishness for Cap 3 now, because nothing about it sounds like what I wanted out of it. But we're not thinking about that right now!
and now, a poem:
Grapefruit
My grandfather got up early to section grapefruit.
I know because I got up quietly to watch.
He was tall. His hairless shins stuck out
below his bathrobe, down to leather slippers.
The house was quiet, sun just up, ticking of
the grandfather clock tall in the corner.
The grapefruit were always sectioned just so,
nestled in clear nubbled bowls used
for nothing else, with half a maraschino
centered bleeding slowly into
soft pale triangles of fruit.
It was special grapefruit, Indian River,
not to be had back home.
Doves cooed outside and the last night-breeze
Rustled the palms against the eaves.
He turned to see me, pale light flashing
off his glasses
and smiled.
I remember as I work my knife along the
membrane separating sections.
It's dawn. The doves and palms are far away.
I don't use cherries anymore.
The clock is digital
and no one is watching.
~Ted McMahon
***
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/742240.html.
people have commented there.
All night, I was like, MY EMOTIONS. MY EMOTIONS. I was so exhausted afterwards, I just went to bed.
But for all my complaining about the Rangers' inability to clear their own zone, especially in the third period, I'm so glad they won. Now they just need to keep on winning.
And Star Wars: The Force Awakens! Basically this has kind of a low bar to clear for me - it just has to be better than the prequels. I'm not expecting anything more than that. I obviously can't be really objective about the original trilogy, since I was 7 when I saw the first movie (when it came out) and it was a huge, influential part of my childhood, so I'm always going to love it most, but I'm also not expecting the surprising excellence of The Clone Wars, because they had a lot of time to tell a lot of stories on that show, and to layer in complexities for secondary and tertiary characters I doubt these movies will bother with. But in the trailer, when Luke hands that lightsaber to someone else - niece? daughter? - I just got all teary. (Also, if you are a spoilerphobe, avoid the NY Post. The final bit from the trailer is on the front page, in color.)
I really should look into getting a Star Wars icon that isn't about sibling hetcest.
(If Star Wars was my first fandom - well, movie fandom anyway - then the Rangers were the first sports fandom I consciously chose, in 1979, during the finals against Montreal; I inherited being a Mets and Giants fan from my parents and never felt a need to go against that, but I'm the only real hockey fan in my family, by which I mean, I'll watch regular season games and I'll watch teams I don't care about etc., whereas the rest of the fam are playoff-only fans. If the Rangers meet the Islanders in the second round, it'll be like all those heartbreaking series in the '80s I listened to on the radio, because we didn't have cable. That's part of why 1994 was so sweet - they beat the Islanders and the Devils to get to the finals. If they get that far, hopefully they can beat the Islanders again. That would make me very happy.)
As for my current fandom, I'm choosing to be excited more than apprehensive about AoU. I'm saving all my cranky fannishness for Cap 3 now, because nothing about it sounds like what I wanted out of it. But we're not thinking about that right now!
and now, a poem:
Grapefruit
My grandfather got up early to section grapefruit.
I know because I got up quietly to watch.
He was tall. His hairless shins stuck out
below his bathrobe, down to leather slippers.
The house was quiet, sun just up, ticking of
the grandfather clock tall in the corner.
The grapefruit were always sectioned just so,
nestled in clear nubbled bowls used
for nothing else, with half a maraschino
centered bleeding slowly into
soft pale triangles of fruit.
It was special grapefruit, Indian River,
not to be had back home.
Doves cooed outside and the last night-breeze
Rustled the palms against the eaves.
He turned to see me, pale light flashing
off his glasses
and smiled.
I remember as I work my knife along the
membrane separating sections.
It's dawn. The doves and palms are far away.
I don't use cherries anymore.
The clock is digital
and no one is watching.
~Ted McMahon
***
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/742240.html.
people have commented there.