Monthly Archive for November, 2005

Bringing It Home

Published on 25 November 2005 in Journal and Memorable. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , .

My trip to North Carolina on Wednesday was largely uneventful, despite national news coverage of the weather in Ohio as I left. On the second flight, however, things took a turn for the unpleasant. Midway through the flight the captain came on the loudspeaker, and, between the crackle of the system and the roaring of the engines, I could tell that this was no ordinary announcement. Nor was it of the John-Cleese-the-wings-are-not-on-fire sort. I wish to God that it had been.

Instead, what I could make out of the pilot’s speech was this: we had two American soldiers–the pilot used the words “two American heroes,” and I’ll agree out of respect for those who serve in the military–onboard our flight. One, whose rank I didn’t catch, was escorting his friend, a staff sergeant, back home. For the last time. They had both been in Iraq.

When we landed, the escort rose and made his way to the front of the aircraft, while the remainder of the passengers remained seated, applauding. He paused at the entry, raised his hand, nodded once. I can’t be certain, but it looked as though the back of his head was scarred and slightly burnt. The pilot and co-pilot met him and led him off the plane. From my place over the starboard wing of the aircraft, I watched as a white hearse drove up, and an officer carrying a flag, wrapped in the same triangle we used to make at Girl Scout camp, greeted the escort with a salute. Several minutes later, a dozen more soldiers marched into place on either side of the cargo belt. A coffin, black in the night, crawled into view and they spread the flag over it while the guard saluted.

Tears burned in my eyes, but I resisted the urge to cry in public. Who was the young man and why had he gone to war? Why did the government send him?

I burst into tears the moment I hugged my father, and, for awhile, my parents couldn’t understand my attempts at explanation. How terrible and shallow was I to think little of going home to see my family when this young man would never see his family again?

It’s easy enough to ignore the pictures of coffins on television or the headlines when they announce a new mark for the number of soldiers killed (the civilians remain unnumbered and will remain so). But I can’t see how anyone can face those coffins and flags and uncomforted families. How can we let this go on?

Friends and Movies, Movies and Friends

Published on 20 November 2005 in Journal. 3 Comments Tags: , , , , , , .

It’s odd, but things are winding relatively slowly into the Thanksgiving holiday this year. Aside from a test on Friday, most of last week’s obstacles came on Tuesday. I can’t go to most of my classes Wednesday if I’m to make my flights to North Carolina, and my Tuesday classes, by an odd twist of fate, were all cancelled. I’m left with a one-day work week, which is virtually unthinkable but will hopefully provide me with some time to catch up on grad applications (or, even, God willing, allow me some time to work on restyling around here).

The weekend’s been great fun, so far, leading off, unsurprisingly with a trip to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. As someone who hasn’t read the books, I can’t comment on this, that, or the other thing that were left out for time reasons, but I will say that I enjoyed the film. The end did leave me somewhat in the lurch because too many implications remained completely untouched, but I was pleased overall. I don’t know that they could have found anyone more perfect for Voldemort than Ralph Fiennes. I’d say a few words more, but that would get me into the realm of spoilers, so I won’t. Perhaps I’ll write an entry later dedicated to discussing the movie in greater detail.

I acted like a real college student after the movie; we stayed up talking and laughing and being generally silly until 4 a.m. It was fun, and my sleep schedule is now thoroughly messed up. Alas.

It’s become something of a tradition for some of our friends to get together the weekend before Thanksgiving and cook our own Thanksgiving meal to share, and we did that Saturday night. My only real contribution was the mashed potatoes, though I did clean part of the kitchen and carry the pumpkin pies to Kathy and Ben’s. Dinner itself was great; the conversations were even better. It was relaxing, and that was a nice way to get into the holiday season. We followed dinner with a viewing of the original film version of The Producers, which is nowhere near as good as the musical but still has its moments. “Springtime for Hitler” had us howling with laughter, but I find that’s a general effect of that song.

The best way to top off the night was to head down to Film Society, where they were showing The Princess BrideThe Empire Strikes Back as they’d intended. The copy of the film they had was an original, which makes the film itself 18 years old and not in the greatest condition. Splicing meant that there were little jumps in picture and dialogue, which quite possibly made the film funnier. One of my favorites occurred at the beginning when the Grandfather announced, “Westley did not have money for marriage [skip] so it was an emotional time for Buttercup.” Another amusing one took place in the Pit of Despair: “So it’s to be torture [skip] torture” [Albino shakes his head] “You don’t believe me?” There was only one instance when it was disappointing, and that was when Inigo was in the middle of killing Count Rugen. The price we pay, I suppose.

The audience, being Case nerds, could probably have acted out the entire film word-for-word, but we did restrain ourselves, primarily to a chorus every time Inigo started in on his you-killed-my-father mantra. I’d been hoping for three-and-a-half years to see that film here at Case, and I wasn’t let down by the experience in any way.

And Winter Arrives

Published on 17 November 2005 in Asides. 0 Comments Tags: .

I’m certain it’s my own fault for living in the Great White North–then again those evil mosquitoes are hell, too–but I hate the sensation of snow hitting my nose and not melting. Actually, I should adjust my language there. I have no sensation when the snow hits my nose at that point. I can simply see it sitting there merrily. So much for body heat.