Running around town

Errands, errands, errands.

Costco for food and stuff (or was it Monday? I can't remember now).

Ophthalmology appointment. Dilated eyes. I'd have been a hit in the 70's. Left the eye doctor's office, and the world outside exploded into painful light until I got my sunglasses on. Thankfully I had my prescription sunglasses, so that I didn't look like a complete geek with the place-this-behind-your-glasses darkened film-sheet.

Over to the gyn office for my yearly check-up. Left sore. Enough said. Was pleased that I'd scheduled the appointment months ago that was so convenient to the theatre were I was supposed to see Resolved, feeling that payinh $8 for parking at UCLA wasn't such a waste this time.

Walked a couple blocks to the theatre to see Resolved. Horribly frustrated to find that the Landmark theatre is NOT the same as the Landmark Regent theatre. Doubly frustrated that the shuttle only came every 30 minutes, which would make me horribly late for the 1700 showing. Trebly frustrated by the slow crawl of traffic down Westwood Boulevard to the Landmark theatre. Parked a block away so that I didn't wast time looking for nonexistant parking in the structure. Quadruply (?) frustrated at the blister I could feel forming on the ball of my left foot. Finally made it up to the top floor and semi-plead with the ushers to let me in to the theatre, to which they semi-joked that they'd held the showing for me in particular.

Walked into the theatre and was enshrouded by the darkness. When I got to the end of the corridor, I could see the screen, but thought that every seat was filled. After half a minute. I felt a hand on my arm. "Hey, thanks for coming out!"

Feeling very embarrassed, I replied, "Oh sure. I'm excited to see the film. But I can't actually see who you are."

Low laughter. "It's Greg." (the director of the film, who I knew a lifetime ago from being in the same ward and from swing dancing lessons before I really got serious. I happily congratulated him, then settled up against the wall, since I couldn't see any open seats.

Another person touched my arm and invited me to have a seat (read: You can't stand her during the show). I confessed that I'd had my eyes dilated and couldn't see any open seats, at which point the guy looked around and found me one that was easily accessible, and I settled in.

Resolved is about high school competitive debating. I'd come in expecting something like Presidential debates, or what I'd seen eons ago in JSA, which I was involved in during junior and high school primarily because of the great conferences and parties, and secondly because of an effort to be more civicly minded. Turns out the style of debate used in JSA is called Lincoln-Douglas debate, which is leagues away from policy debating.

Basically, I was riveted. From the 400 word a minute spewing from the mouths of the young participants, painful sounding mini-breaths, tubs full of information, complex personalities, streams of information, and fabulous editing, my eyes were glued to the screen. The blurb on the festival website:

The fascinating complexity of high school debate gives way to a portrait of the equally complex racial and class bias of American education in Greg Whiteley's riveting documentary.

Initially a portrait of top-flight debaters from well-funded, mostly white schools—like nationally ranked Sam Iola and Matt Andrews of Highland Park, Texas—the film deepens when it changes focus to Richard Funches and Louis Blackwell from Long Beach's Jordan squad. While gifted traditional debaters in their own right, the two decide to challenge the usefulness of the jargon-filled, 400-word-per-minute style of modern debate (known as “the spread”) by steering their debates toward issues of personal experience and dialogue. What is the use of refining an argument, they stress, when it does not affect the reality of a person's locale and particular life? Why must individual perspective and bias be masked? For many, these questions present such a radical interpretive shift that competitors and judges crumble in front of them.

Contrasting Fuches and Blackwell's attempt to challenge the system with Andrews' relentless pursuit to excel in it and win the prestigious Tournament of Champions, Whiteley deftly explores the disparities between the debaters, their styles, and their resources. Alternately inspiring and polarizing, Resolved reveals a constantly shifting sport that is as much philosophy as competition.

The movie was spectacular. More professional than New York Doll. More streamlined and visually and plot pleasing than Spellbound. I have no doubt that this will get picked up and distributed across the country. I'd see it again in a theatre. I'd even buy the dvd. It really was THAT good.

Made it home and started raving about it to both of my roomates. Ironically enough, turns out that Wonder Woman was the state champion in policy style debate, and Girl Friday had competed in Lincoln-Douglas style debate in high school as well. Then I got on the internet to look up the rest of the festival movies. Maybe I'll be able to fit one more in.

And lastly, there was another episode of SYTYCD!!!! Everyweek Wade Robson amazes and delights. Amazingly innovative choreographer. Fabulous dancer. Tall. Hot. And appears to be straight. What more could a tv viewer ask for?

Loved the pieces that Jamie & Hok (jazz) and Sabra & Dominic (rumba) performed. And I even liked Lacey & Kameron's Quickstep. I generally don't like the QS, but Meredith kept it fun and snazzy by adding elements from Charleston and Shag. Hurray for dancing!

Rainy day in LA

It rained today. First time in a long time. And ordinarily I would not find it remark-able enough to write about here. Except that I had to drive out to Glendale and Pasadena today. And a little bit of rain was enough to ruin my plans.

Perhaps I should explain. California is the Sunshine State. Especially in Los Angeles, we are unused to such oddities of precipitous weather patterns. So it is that, when water actually falls from the heavens, it is An Event. Romantic people with the penchant to be wet go out for long walks in the rain. Those with more of an inclination for sunshine await the day when the rain had gone, and we can all enjoy cleansed air for a few days. Hikers rejoice because the trails will be slightly less dusty, and the views from local mountains will be lovely. And those who drive (read: everyone) start panicking.

Angelenos just don't know how to drive in the rain. Besides creating pools of water over which hydroplaning is possible, our window wipers are just not used to such vigorous activity. When it rains, Angelenos who are used to activating their window wipers solely to clear off the morning dew, are generally loathe to find out that the black, previously flexible plastic has been baked into adobe by the constant sunshine, and is relatively useless at swiping away the rain on a leisurely drive down the freeway. And I do mean leisurely. What could be more leisurely than 10 mph eastbound on the 10?

So, there I was. Having left a little late for my 1700 hair appointment. Creeping along the 10 freeway. At 1650, it became blindingly clear that I wasn't going to make my appointment, seeing as it was in Glendale, and I had yet to transition to the 110, I made the call to Shears and explained my predicament. Relieved to find that she could take me the next afternoon. She was also relieved, because that meant she could leave early to prepare for her dinner party. So, we were relieved all around. And no, I didn't just turn around and go home. What, and waste the 45 minutes I'd already paid to the jealous freeway gods? No, I continued with my tribute, and made my way up to Pasadena for a night of terrific dancing.

Left Lindy Groove at midnight after the closing song. And serenely made my way home through the clean air and empty freeway. Aaaaaahhhhh ...