A prairie home....not companion..??

So, Marvin and I went to go see A Prairie Home Companion the other night. Let me tell you, it was fabulous! I don't know if it just filled me with midwesternly nostalgia, or what, but I can't remember the last time I just genuinely enjoyed a movie like that. Especially one that wasn't so over-the-top crass. It reminded my of my old days in the Youth Theater Company with Tim Talon.

Anyways, that's besides the point. I was so excited to tell everyone and their mothers how great this movie was the next day. But, I got to work and started talking about it and I got a lot of blank stares. When I mentioned "Hey I went to see A Prairie Home Companion last night" I got a lot of "A Prairie Home what..?? What's that?" And then I thought maybe if I mentioned Garrison Keillior, maybe I'd get a little more response. "Garrison who..??" Lake Wobegone?? Nope. Nothing. This absolutely blows me away. From everything that I've seen Garrison Keillior is a pretty widely known personality. He's got this radio show. He contributes regularily to widely read periodicals. He's made appearances on TV shows now and then. But nobody has heard of him! The only ping I got was from the guy that's known around work as our resident holder of useless knowledge.

This has gotten me thinking. Is the fact that nobody knows about this because right now I'm west and south of Minnesota? Is it because nobody cares about radio shows anymore? I mean, I suppose nobody would recognize the name Michael Feldmen either. Is it because I work with people who just don't care about anything that doesn't show up on Fox, CBS, ABC, or NBC anymore? I don't know.

I've been reading a book called Redneck Nation off and on for a while. The guy who wrote it came from the Deep South and talks about his desire when he was a kid to reject all things southern and become what he thought was an enlightened, intelligent northerner. Now, he says, southern culture and ignorance has become a nation-wide norm. People get their entertainment from watching other people eat pig intenstines and bugs for money. Nobody knows anything about literature or politics or anything other than what's on top 40 radio and the four tv networks anymore, except for a few elite. He makes the comment that everyone is going to a version of tech school now. Barely anybody goes to college for a liberal arts degree anymore because it's not directly marketable. Everyone goes to be an engineer or a doctor or a teacher. Directly marketable skills. Exactly what tech school does. Nobody is an intellectual anymore.

I've kind of gotten the feeling lately that the nation we live in now is not what I imagined it would be when I was younger. When I was a kid I heard all about how this is the land of individualism and progressive thinking, etc. Whatever. The more I observe people and get to know what life outside my own head is like, the more I realize that I am surrounded by a bunch of zombies. A bunch of office working desk jockies who live and work in their cubicles by day and come home and watch Desparate Housewives by night. People who decorate their houses in white and burgundy and clear crystal and knick knacks from Wal-Mart. People are so afraid of doing things outside the norm that our individualism is just drowned. Even people who try to be different try so hard at it that they end up fitting into everyone else's schema of what a "different" person looks like. I feel bad, because I really do like people and care about people, but so often I come home from social functions feeling like, "None of these people had one interesting thing to say this whole time."

For example, I went to Marvin's softball game this Monday. Before the game we went to the bar and grill across the street for a beer and a burger. We met some of the guys from the team out there. I genuinely had a good time with them. These guys let loose and were themselves. Then we got to the game and their wives showed up. All of the sudden it was like they put on a mask and were different people. Their wives were these pastel colored, high heel wearing, manicure getting women. Is that what a wife is supposed to do? Is that how a married relationship is supposed to be? If so, I don't want to be a wife. The wives sat around and politely cheered on their husbands "Yay Lance!! Good throw!! Hit that ball!!" And it was like they were duty bound to be supportive, even if they didn't know what was going on, or care. I don't know if I'm ever going to fit in with other "wives." I get along better with the guys. I'll go to the game with Marvin, but if it's boring, I'm reading a book. And the husbands all talked about how they could let loose if the wives were gone. I don't ever want that!

Anyways, that's my rant about humanity for today. Watch A Prairie Home Companion, even if you don't know who Garrison Keillior is. Even if you've never heard of it before. Even if you don't like Lindsay Lohan (I don't either...but she didn't wreck it.)

Somehow, I've given birth to 10 adolescent boys

I've had a strange epiphany as of late. I'm a mom. I don't know how it happened, or how it could have been prevented, but all of the sudden, I'm a parent. Not to an infant either. I have magically spawned 10 adolescent and pre-adolescent boys. How many parents do you think would have survived if, instead of giving birth to an infant, they gave birth to a 12 year-old? Instead of going through diapers and bottles, they were immediately thrust into a life of teenaged angst?

So, less metiphorically, I've realized that right now, I'm the closest thing to a mom that my boys at work have. I'm the female that has the most influence over their lives. I spend the most time with them out of everyone pretty much. And that's weird. But it's kind of cool at the same time too. Most of these boys have such a hard time trusting adults at all. One boy in particular was so angry and hurt when he got to us, that he could barely have a conversation with us, much less show affection. I make it a point to go into everyone's room at night and give them a hug and say "I love you, good night," and when he first got to us, he would refuse hugs, and would barely say goodnight. But, yesterday, he had achieved a big step in his therapy, and I gave him a hug to say congratulations, and he hugged back like he meant it, and smiled at me and said "I love you." I don't know if I've ever been prouder of someone. This boy has been in and out of treatment facilities since he was 4. The fact that he's been able to break down and trust someone enough to tell them that he loves them is HUGE.

Anyways, enough of that. So, I promised a review a long time ago of the Decemberists disc that I picked up, and here, finally, it is.
Picaresque:
I'm not entirely sure how to describe this disc. It's a little bit folk, a little bit sea shanty, a little bit troubador, a little bit english punk. The lyricist for the Decemberists is freaking brilliant. That's pretty much all I can say about that. Each song sweeps you into the story he's telling, whether it's the experience of a boy who's trying to meet up to his father's desire to live his old sporting dreams vicariously through him, or the story of the sailor who seeks revenge on the man who ruined his mother. And what's totally wonderful about all of this, is that the music matches the lyrics. The sailor's story sounds exactly like a sea shanty. The Decemberists seem to have this magical quality to morph into whatever kind of band is required for the lyrics. Definately five stars on this disc. I can't find anything wrong with it. And that's saying something.

So, anyways, that's enough for today. More later.