A Series of Unfortunate Events was viewed by me last night (apparently in the passive voice) and I have to say that it was quite charming. I expected it to be interesting visually, and it certainly fulfilled that promise, but as a film it impressed me. Somehow, it created that same sense of (in MHG’s words) child-like adventure that very few films have managed. It had a Goonies quality, a Young Sherlock Holmes quality, and *yes* a Harry Potter quality to it.

Though the screenplay rarely varied from the schlock family movie standbys, the story remained intact in the hands of a competent and loving director and cinematographer. And while the kids in the film played straight man to Jim Carrey’s handful of remarkable characters, they did so with an earnest quality rarely seen in actors so young. Even the subtitled young girl avoided Jar-Jar or monkey territory.

Stick around for the end titles, too, as I would gladly have paid another eight dollars to have them go on for a few more hours. I theorize that they may have pitched those credits for the opening and were turned down based on tone, but could not be turned away, so talented are the animators.

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MHG says she thinks of me when she hears Weezer. Maybe this is part of why.

“In the Garage” — Weezer, Weezer

I’ve got a Dungeon Master’s Guide
I’ve got a 12-sided die
I’ve got Kitty Pryde
And Nightcrawler too
Waiting there for me
Yes I do, I do

I’ve got posters on the wall
My favorite rock group KISS
I’ve got Ace Frehley
I’ve got Peter Criss
Waiting there for me
Yes I do, I do

I’ve got an electric guitar
I play my stupid songs
I write these stupid words
And I love every one
Waiting there for me
Yes I do, I do

In the garage
I feel safe
No one cares about my ways
In the garage
Where I belong
No one hears me sing this song
In the garage
I feel safe
No one laughs about my ways
In the garage
Where I belong
No one hears me
No one hears me
No one hears me
No one hears me
No one hears me sing this song

So, when a spam arrives in your junk mail folder with the subject “WOW Leather Blowout!” what is your first reaction?

Is it excitement over the prospect that a player of World of Warcraft has created several items with his leatherworking trade skill, might be selling them cheap, and that your level 19 druid might take advantage?

If so, you approach my level of nerdiness. If this post left you confused, then your presence here is likely a mistake. Welcome, there’s nothing for you here.

I dreamt last night that I was a father. My 22-year-old son (I knew I had at least one child) wanted something that I could not give him. The argument screamed over the protests of my wife, Clare. She stood nearby, her face indignant and injured. My son continued to assert that my backward principles stood in the way of my understanding him. I was old in the dream.

But in my mind within the scenario (not the third-person one that passively watched), I would not lose this fight. I decided that my son was misguided and this was my opportunity to teach him something. Ironic, actually, how stubbornly I was going to defend my side, not even considering what my grown son was saying; exactly what he was saying. And I knew that my son would respect what I would say in the same subconsciously conscious of our relationship way that I would disregard his opinion on the subject.

And later at home, even knowing that he disagreed, he would wrestle himself over whether he should trust in his father’s experience and wisdom or believe what seemed more right in his own mind.

And I was proud. My son respected me, he loved me, and he valued me as his father. I was proud that he listened, and decided ultimately that he disagreed. I was proud of him and I was proud of me.

This dream was way better than the one where I kept dying over and over again in World of Warcraft.