I'm excited about the first game of the World Series.
First pitch: tonight at 7:08 pm.
Fans of these perennially losing teams, Cubs and Indians, are naturals to root empathically for the opposing team, but in a different year, when they aren't playing one another. As a child, I was a die-hard Yankee fan in a family of Yankee v former Brooklyn Dodger fans who morphed into Mets fans. I never knew anyone who had been a New York Giants fan, but they must have existed at some point in time.
After moving to Chicago, I remained committed to the Yankees for many years, but also developed a fondness for the Mets as my second hometown team. Still, when it was Yankees v Mets, the preference always ran for the Yankees.
Funny thing, last year and this year, I found myself rooting for the Cubs, and I'm very happy to see them in the Series. I guess my decades long journey to being a Chicagoan at heart is complete, or almost complete. I didn't cry on Saturday night as many grown men and women did after the Cubs defeated the Dodgers. And I still might face a major personal crisis if the Cubs and Yankees ever meet in the World Series.
Helpful hint of the day:
When expecting an important phone call, turn off bluetooth headset after removing headset, or you'll hear the phone ring, but hear nothing else when you pick it up. Then you'll call the number back and you'll hear nothing. And you'll call it back again, and you'll still hear nothing. And then you'll remember that you forgot to turn off your headset, which you left in the closet on top your file cabinet.
We saw Certain Women. It's an odd film that presents snapshots of the lives of several women, their stories revealed separately, though their lives intersect briefly and coincidentally, in one instance in a way that matters, and in another instance, that doesn't appear to matter, but only the audience sees these intersections. The characters are unaware of the connections that might best be characterized by degrees of separation. You've got to see it to understand what I'm saying.
Using the word stories to 'describe' our observations of these women is somewhat misleading. It's more like watching mundane vignettes from their lives, briefly heated by a privately smoldering, below-the-surface same-sex crush that comes to nothing, an affair briefly revealed, and a not-so-mundane hostage scene that plays out in a strangely mundane manner. Again, you have to see it to know what I'm talking about.
I don't quite know what to make of this film as a whole, though I liked it. We talked about seeing it again, so maybe that will happen. I'm not ready to rate it yet. One additional observation: Kristen Stewart has obviously been determined to shake off any memory of her as a child actor, taking on more interesting character roles, not going the easy pretty-face, blockbuster route with her career. She's really become a fine actor.
Last thought, and then I must go. Moonlight is next on the film agenda. Here's an interview of the creators on NPR. Given the reviews and the interview, I expect I'll enjoy it.
You'll need a hard copy of the NY Times to read this list, but this image gives you an idea of how much Trump resorts to insult. No doubt the Times could give the same treatment to flagrant lies Trump has told, e.g. I never said global warming is a hoax perpetrated by the Chinese, said while his tweet saying exactly that was still online.
Virtually all politicians tell some lies. They believe that 100% truth-telling would make them unelectable, and they may be right. Advantage sometimes goes to the liar. But the sheer number and brazenness of Trump's pants-on-fire lies exceeds anything we've ever seen before in a major party candidate. The irony is that Trump's supporters see him as an unprecedented truth-teller. I believe that's because they confuse socially offensive statements with speaking the truth. It's the socially forbidden quality of his statements, the pretense of merely being political incorrect, that is wrongly conflated with truth-telling. But being offensive and dishonest are not mutually exclusive conditions. There is nothing at all extraordinary about socially offensive lies.
In A Man Called Ove, the title character, Ove, is the mean old man of his Swedish neighborhood. As the story unfolds, Ove is also revealed to be a guilty, grieving man, covering his pain with a brusque, critical manner as he polices his neighborhood for tiny violations of the community code book. Outside the view of others, Ove repeatedly tries to commit suicide so that he can join his beloved late wife in the afterlife. But execution of his plan to die is repeatedly interrupted, while new neighbors—a young family with a Swedish husband, Iranian wife and two adorable little girls—help him grudgingly recover some moments of joy in his life. This film could be corny, but it's subtler than that, bittersweet leavened with darkish, gentle humor, and pitch perfect performances by Ralph Lassgård (Ove) and Zozan Akgün (Nasanin, the Persian woman). Rating: 92/100
The university had a half-day off earlier in the week, and since I didn't have private patients, I caught a matinee showing of the 40th anniversary re-release of Taxi Driver (1976). It's still a great film. If you love movies, go see it on the big screen and show up early. Instead of trailers and ads, the director and cast are reunited for an on-screen discussion of their personal recollections. 100/100
Thirteen trials were held in Nuremberg from 1945 to 1949, with multiple defendants in the cases. The prosecutor for one trial was Benjamin Ferencz, who was just 27 at the time, and it was his first trial.
Mr. Ferencz is 96 now, and the last living Nuremberg prosecutor. In this interview, he explains how he winnowed a field of 3000 potential defendants down to just 22 who were tried and convicted. He also gives his own thoughts on why the trials really mattered.
This 7-minute interview is more than worth the investment of your time. Hard to believe this man is 96. The longer you listen, the more you could believe that you were listening to a tack-sharp attorney in his prime. Amazing man.
I heard the sound track to this video on the way to work today. I was touched by it, which took me by surprise. I love this country, and there is so much that is good about it, which is why I've never been as distraught over an election. Actually, I've never been 'distraught' over an election. I've held strong opinions about candidates, but this year I fear for my country.
A Buena Park (Chicago) neighborhood man was ordered held in lieu of $500,000 bail Sunday after being accused of breaking into a 23-year-old man’s bedroom and sexually assaulting him, prosecutors said...
Assistant State's Attorney Elena Gottreich said the victim woke up to find [Joseph Kopacz, 52], a stranger, in his bed with his head in the victim’s crotch area, attempting to pull down his boxer shorts.
Kopacz fled, but the victim put him in a headlock before wrestling Kopacz to the ground outside the apartment building. Kopacz is in the Illinois sex offender registry, listed as a sexual predator who was previously convicted of attacking a 24 year old when he was age 39.
I've seen the attacker at a Starbucks (his photo accompanies article), and I've wondered if he's mentally ill. He has a bit of a chronic mental illness/halfway house vibe about him, though I never felt sure about it.