A Working Man in a Movie That Doesn't Work

04012018-11

— पांच हजार आठ सौ दो —

Last night was Action Movie Night at the Braeburn Condos theater. There were ten of us: Tony, Jake, Ben, Ryan, Chris B, Andrew, Tom, Derek, Shobhit, and me. Notable absences of regulars included Chris G (who usually brings a vegetarian pizza; bummer!), and Daniel, who this week seemed to just disappear without a peep. There was no RSVP from him either.

It was Ryan's choice this week, and he went with a movie he apparently went out of his way to make sure was one for which I had not posted a review: A Working Man. He noted before the reveal of the movie that it was still in theaters—he's technically right about that, but it's not currently in any theaters in Seattle proper.

Here's the kind of funny thing: I wasn't super compelled by the premise of a guy getting revenge for the kidnapping of a young woman for kidnapping, plus the reviews were bad. I actually made a conscious decision not to go see that movie, which actually was pretty bad. More specifically, it was incredibly dull. Shobhit quipped that now I'll have to write a review for it, but the movie opened three weeks ago, which is long enough that there's not much sense in writing a full review. It's already out of theaters in Seattle proper, after all, as I said. In any case, now I have seen it, and my shorter letterboxd review will just have to suffice.

Something kind of interesting did happen during the potluck-hangout before the movie, though. My movie review blog came up in conversation. This has happened many times before, of course, but perhaps not when Ben was around: he reacted as though first hearing of it, and asked what the website was. "Fruitcake Enterprises dot com," I said, and he immediately brought it up on his phone. "There it is," he said. "Bookmarking now!" This was also amusing because Ben and I differ significantly in opinion on most movies, with a few notable exceptions (we both love Tom Cruise action movies, in spite of him being a Scientology wacko).

I feel like someone else looked it up during the conversation, too. Andrew, maybe? I know I already once emailed it to Tony, some time go. And clearly Ryan is already familiar, if he was checking to see whether I had already reviewed this week's movie. I noted that there was nothing playing right now that I haven't already seen that looks that great to me, so my expectations were low.

Ryan has a mixed history with movie choices and how much I liked them. His last choice, in September, was Oddity, which scared the shit out of me but I was also actually pretty impressed with. Other past choices of his included both the magnificent Triangle of Sadness and the bonkers-bad Mad Heidi, so Ryan's choices really run the gamut. I think he usually chooses movies he's never seen himself either, so I can't necessarily judge him too harshly for the bad ones.

I could have guessed when it came to A Working Man, though. When people were looking up my blog (and the feed of movie reviews is the landing page when you go to fruitcakeenterprises.com), I went to take a look myself: the current crop of recent reviews really lend weight to Gabriel's constantly criticisim that I "only" give movies grades between B-minus and B-plus. This isn't actually true over time, of course, and this is sort of that time of year: even the better movies available to go see are just pretty-good at best. Also, in my defense, I saw the surprisingly fantastic A Nice Indian Boy only four movies ago, and I gave that one an A-minus.

Had I written a review for A Working Man it would have gotten a solid C at best, maybe even a C-minus. And here's the kicker about that: the reason I don't give a lot of movies a grade lower than B-minus is because it's usually easy to tell which movies will be bad, and so I don't bother seeing them. If you want me to write more reviews to bad movies, then fucking pay me to do it! I'm not going to subject myself to something I already know is shit just for the sake of "diversity of opinion" within the context of what's just a hobby of mine.

— पांच हजार आठ सौ दो —

04012018-14

— पांच हजार आठ सौ दो —

Anyway. I did also think about how anyone looking up my movie reviews who happens to go exploring on the site will quite easily find themselves on this very feed, the one for my personal blog. Good thing I try not to talk shit about people at Action Movie Night! I try not to talk shit about anyone, honestly—Gabriel's perception that I constantly get things wrong notwithstanding.

Shobhit made a Magi (Indian noodle, in the vein of top ramen) dish with added sauteed vegetables and tofu. After getting spoiled with an abundance of vegetarian offerings last time (including three different vegetarian pizzas), the dish we brought this time was the only vegetarian option we had. Ben tends to go back and forth between vegetarian or not; this week he brought a medium pizza with anchovies.

I had already eaten too much of the Steph's Tofu samples left out at work yesterday, so the limitation was kind of welcome, and helped keep me from overeating my dinner. I just had the one serving of the magi, plus the mango nectar cocktail I made for myself with vodka and peach schnapps. My weight was still up this morning.

In other news, I got a call from Danielle just as we were all leaving the movie; I was in the middle of putting dishes into the Community Kitchen dishwasher and so did not answer. About 15 minutes later, up in the condo, I called her back. We then proceeded to chat for about an hour and 15 minutes.

We talked about a lot of stuff, but the big thing was the news she wanted to share: she got approved for temporary residence in Mexico. I didn't even know she was applying until the last time we hung out, on Sunday two weekends ago. She's very excited and wanted to share it with someone. It sounded like she tried Jeanna first but she was already in bed; she gets up really early. More than once Danielle said, "Thanks for being the first friend to hear the news!"

I did tell her, "I'm happy for you. I'm not as happy for me." She said, "Why?" And I said, "Because I'll miss you!" On the upside, I guess, I'll have someone to visit—and perhaps even stay with—once I finally one day make my first visit ever to Mexico. Danielle loves it down there and has now gone several times. It's wild to think of her living outside the country; the possibility never crossed my mind until she mentioned having gone to the Mexican Consulate earlier this month.

She really wants to just get out of the U.S., President Fuckwit has fucked things up so badly. On the one hand, I get it. On the other hand, the good people abandoning ship is only going to make it worse for the rest of us. But, we all have to follow our own path. I'm kind of with Rylee on this one, who does not want to move down there with her mom: "I have a life here." Indeed. Presumably she'll live with her dad if it comes down to it, although there is more to process so it could be a while before Danielle makes an actual move. She hasn't even decided what to do with her house.

She did tell me she's also "done with suburbia," which was also new to me. She's lived in Renton for over twenty years now, something I have never been able to fathom doing—but, this is what the majority of people with families do: the move to the suburbs. Especially in Seattle, which has the third-lowest percentage population of children of all cities in the U.S., at 15%, behind (predictably) San Francisco at #1 (13.4%) and, randomly, Quincy, Massachusetts (14.6%). Quicny is a suburb of Boston (7th-lowest, 15.9%), which makes Seattle the second-lowest percentage of people under the age of 18, among all American cities that are anchor cities of major metropolitan areas. I think everyone would assume the one city with a lower percentage would be San Francisco. (Pretty interesting to see Pittsburgh ranked right after us, though.) Anyway, the point is: the suburbs are where the children go, especially those in middle-class families.

And, well, one of Danielle's children is grown and out of her hands (much to her relief), and Rylee has a couple of years to go. Danielle's need for suburban living is dissipating in real time.

The city she wants to move to is Puerto Vallarta: population 224,000 (metro population 479,000—this actually makes it only slightly smaller than Spokane, where both she and I grew up). I told her perhaps this means one day we can visit Mexico City together, and she said, "Fuck. Yes!" She then mentioned it's about a 10-hour bus ride from Puerto Vallarta, and I said, "Uh, I would fly. It's a ninety-minute flight." It occurs to me now that maybe we could just meet there; she coming from Puerto Vallarta and me flying direct from the U.S.—depending on the state of borders and customs, anyway; who the fuck knows with President Fuckwit in charge? Or, maybe one day we can combine both into one trip. If Danielle is down there for four or five years—she does talk right now as though eventually she'd come back, but who knows—it's possible I could visit multiple times, though. If I have a free place to stay that clearly changes the calculus significantly.

I'd still really miss her, though. We'd have to make it a point to get on FaceTime a lot more often.

— पांच हजार आठ सौ दो —

04042021-41

[posted 12:32pm]

charley horse

04252020-04

— पांच हजार आठ सौ एक —

I communited to work by bike yesterday, my first bike commute of the year, and the latest in the year I've gotten back on the bike since before covid. And you know what? My legs are fucking killing me.

I tried to look up blog posts from my first bike commutes in 2024, 2023 and 2022 (April 11, March 27 and March 29, respectively), but could only find commentary on the day itself, which means I wrote about it after riding to work, but before my first bike ride home from work—which is the far hardest part, being uphill (a cumulative 410 ft climb up hills, the equivalent of a roughly 35-story building, but all on inclines, most of them steep). I checked the next-day posts as well, but in none of them did I say anything about how hard it was to ride home for the first time of the year.

Because I can't remember it ever being this fucking hard. In two different spots yesterday, I couldn't take it and had to get off the bike and walk it up hills. It was exhausting and fucking depressing. Am I just getting old?

My first ride home is always exhausting. It takes a week or two to really get used to it again. But I don't remember it being this hard before. I need to make a note to self for future years, and even take Shobhit's advice: I should ease into it more, by taking a route that is less direct but on average a bit flatter.

Honestly, I could just take the flatter route as a matter of course. As a rule, though, I like to get a steeper stint over more quickly than to ride up a lower incline for a far longer distance; this way I get a good percentage of the climb over quickly. This is why I usually ride down Elliott Ave to Broad St—as I did yesterday—and then take a left on Broad and ride three blocks up to 2nd Avenue, where there is a protected bike line into the heart of downtown. The thing is, the three blocks on Broad from Elliott to 2nd Avenue alone is a 102-foot climb, the first two blocks alone being an 85-foot climb. In just those two blocks, a full fifth of the cumulative 410-ft climb getting all the way home, which now that I think about it is a little bit nuts; the three blocks combined amount to a quarter of the elevation climb.

Huh. Why am I doing that to myself? Well, when I'm back in shape every year: to get the hardest part over quickly. It usually works for me! But, yesterday, I made it up the first block okay, but as the light was green when I made it to Western Ave, I had no time to stop and rest, and although I tried to keep going that second block, I made it maybe a third of the way before I got off the bike and pushed it walking, barely able to breathe.

I had already been 10 minutes late getting out of the office, because I was just rinsing my tea tumbler out in the kitchen when I got into a 10-minute conversation about the Deli Smoked Mozzarella Pasta and how we both much preferred when the smoked mozzarella was cubed. Apparently both of us have had multiple conversations with people in Deli about it over the years since this was changed (probably like 7 or 8 years ago now) and we both thought we were the only ones so passionate about it. Gabby did tell me Whole Foods carries a version in which the cheese is still cubed rather than shredded as PCC now does it; I haven't tried it but I fully intend to one of these days.

It took me a bit longer than the usual 25 minutes after that to get home, because of course, I had to get off my bike and walk a couple of times. The first was on that stretch of Broad Street; the second was on Pine, the very last block before getting to 15th where my condo building is located—also a very steep block. I got nearly halfway up that block, gave up and got off the bike, then walked it across the street to come in the front door rather than through the garage on 15th as normal.

But, I needed to figure out a way to get my front tire properly pumped; it was not quite adequate. This tire has a type of pump nozzle I am not used to, and it's easy to press it in a way that it just deflates the tire by accident. I did this twice before I finally stood the bike upside-down and managed to get it pumped properly.

It was 5:23 by the time I was walking to the door through the garage, the bike actually locked up finally, and at that very moment Shobhit called me, wondering why I wasn't home yet. He remembered that it typically takes me half an hour to ride, rather than the roughly one hour it takes to walk, so he clearly expected me to be home by 5:00. But of course, I didn't even get out of the office until 4:40, so it would have been 5:10 before I got home even if it weren't my first bike commute home. I saw moments later that he had even texted me two minutes before that: Are you okay? Bike giving you trouble? Nope, just being a fucking old geezer, who has to ease more carefully into strenuous exercise than when I was younger, is giving me trouble!

What a pain in the ass! And my legs. I rode to work again today, and my legs are aching even as I write this. I got a charley horse in the back of my right calf just swinging my body out of bed this morning. It was very weird because I could feel a literal bump bulging out of my calf muscle, until I sort of rubbed it back in; at least it didn't last long. But, I'm sure it was a result of the physical strain from yesterday.

I did do a slightly different route to work this morning than I did yesterday, though, as I did not need to swing by the library this time. I might have to give up on riding to work along the waterfront though. The zigzagging I have to down around Pike Place is annoying, and I don't care for riding over the old stone street through Post Alley. This results in a 20-minute ride, the alternative that still gets me along the waterfront being a circle via 12th Ave down to Yesler and then back over to the waterfront, which is a 24-minute ride. And if I just take the standard route that does not invovle the waterfront, simply turning right up 4th Avenue from Pine and then riding down Broad, that's typically a 17-minute rite. I love the waterfront but I'm not sure it's worth all that. Some days I'll still need to catch the bus, and I can just go back to walking to the waterfront via the Overlook Walk then.

— पांच हजार आठ सौ एक —

05092018-07

— पांच हजार आठ सौ एक —

Otherwise, it was a quiet evening at home. Shobhit and I watched the season finale of season 7 of Black Mirror on Netflix: the episode "USS Callister: Into Infinity." It was really fun, even though it was a direct sequel to the season 4 premiere "USS Callister," which was released December 2017 and I really couldn't remember it at all. The "previously" intro helped a little bit. The feature film-length episode (88 minutes) was still really fun though.

After that, Shobhit connected via Zoom to this month's 43rd District Democrats monthly meeting. Ry is running for Mayor and was going to speak. I was more struck by a few of the speakers who were candidates for City Council. Some were better than others, at what I guess I'll call "politicianing."

Each speaker had enough time to take about two questions from constituents on the call (although Shobhit joked that there were more candidates on the call than voters). One of them noted that Seattle is a "C40 City" collaborating around the world to combat climate change. I didn't even know what that was, and had to look it up. At first I thought it made Seattle sound incredibly impressive, if it was one of only 40 cities in the world in this coalition—but, there are actually 98 of them. Granted, only 17 of those are in North America, and Seattle is one of 14 American cities, so that still feels kind of impressive.

So what the hell does the 40 refer to, then? I totally assumed it was the city count, but clearly not. Maybe it's a reference to climate? Oh, wait—it actually did refer to 40 cities at first, when the number was expanded to 40 in 2006. This was after it was first formed as the "C20" in 2005.

Well, okay then. Clearly they should be calling it the C100 now. What is wrong with these people?

— पांच हजार आठ सौ एक —

05012018-26

[posted 11:56pm]