Hope and Good Will

Sometimes life throws a huge wrench in the gears of your planning.  Sometimes, without any action on your part, something happens and you just feel blindsided.  Maybe you felt you were just getting by or you were doing really well and suddenly your burdens outweigh your net earnings.  Or you simply feel like you have just enough strength and suddenly something extraordinary requires more.  Sometimes it's a weekly thing. Or perhaps you've been going through life so smoothly for a few months that you become so relaxed and stop looking for any warning signs. Your parents will live forever, right?  Your siblings will outlive you.  Or that job has always been around and plenty of other places would hire someone of your capability and caliber, correct?  And, as any parent knows, children will outlive their parents - or they should.  The thing is, if life has a message attached to it, I would think one possibility for all of us is that message could be "On guard!!" For me, and for so many others, we seem surprised when it happens.  The factory shuts down and suddenly our lives are shaken.  The child starts to run a fever and suddenly a doctor is explaining "your options".  A phone call comes in the middle of the night and your life is suddenly very different.  It's not easy being human. It certainly gets easier until it gets harder.  After so many years we even feel a little foolish when life throws that wrench at us.  How could we have been so "unprepared"?  We say things to ourselves such as "I knew things were going a little 'too' good."  or "Why would God do this to me right now?"  It's just a little coping method our minds develop to try to deal with life as a "reality" rather than some by-product of our conscious choices.  For the true secret many of us deny is our choices will never guarantee our lives to remain on any given course.  In fact, if I may be so bold, the more choices and course corrections we make tend to make those "reality checks" tougher to swallow.  My old economics professor (Mom) used to constantly talk about saving for a rainy day.  In fact, if you were to look at her checking account right now (#34765321 at Jerry's Trust and Savings) you would see a positive balance.  Financially she's prepared.  Or as prepared as she can possibly be.  Life has taught her the value of saving.  But even she will admit that anything is possible and one day can mean the difference between "living well" and "barely getting by".  Like so many other parents of children my age, my parents know what poor is.  And, through their choices, have achieved financial security through saving and a little planning.  I do remember some pretty lean years growing up and the Christmas trees of childhood usually dwarfed the amount of presents under them on Christmas morning.  No matter how many letters I wrote, Santa had to live according to a budget like so many others.  But, no matter how tight the money was, my parents still tried to give their children something.  I still remember the joy in opening up the neatly wrapped pair of socks.  And how could I ever forget the feel of brand new Christmas white undies.  My mom, like so many other moms, would use Christmas as an excuse to purchase the necessary things as well as one fun gift.  My siblings and I came to understand how much of a sacrifice was required from my parents as we became adults with our own children.  But my childhood was in the days before convenient lay-away plans and credit cards.  Christmas wasn't even shopped for until after Thanksgiving.  Heck, it wasn't even mentioned until after Thanksgiving.   The pressure for shopping for Christmas wasn't even mentioned until after the big bird was consumed.  If my parents didn't have the money to pay for presents then my siblings and I would just have to go without.  We would be sad but we didn't know any other lifestyle.  I know my parents wanted to give us the world but they had to live realistically.  Even today, with a much larger budget, every Christmas when the Rueuhy's gather for Christmas Eve and snack on snacks and await the "passing of the envelopes" from the parents and my children's grandparents, we still hear "I wish it could have been more".  But as I've grown older I realize that the mere fact they are still here, living and breathing, is an abundance of wealth for me and my siblings.  Just the fact that we can still gather as a group/family is an abundance of wealth so many others would give all their Christmas presents up for.  As I post this posting we will see Christmas of 2013 within 5 days.  If I don't receive one of those life altering phone calls I will be a blessed man.  If I awake Christmas morning and life remains relatively the same, it will be a glorious morning.  If I find no presents under a non-existent tree and my life has not seen any wrenches thrown at it then I will consider myself a richer man for it.  And if I can get through the next 5 days without one of those life changing phone calls, and a decently wrapped pair of Christmas socks, then this may be the best Christmas ever.  I can say this because I have experienced those phone calls.  I have endured holidays after loosing a job.  I have gotten the news of a loved one passing away.  I do not tell you this to make you feel sorry for me.  I only felt it was necessary to add a little perspective on the season.  May you find joy this season even if it doesn't seem possible.  May good will be your perspective even if life is handing you "good won't".  If you have nothing to offer your children or your parents this Christmas season try to remember that the best thing you can really give your loved ones, in the absence of anything else, is love.  That's the gift we got a couple of thousand years ago.  A baby.  A savior.  And that's exactly what I wanted for Christmas.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.   

More Babbling about Hobbit 2 - part two

"Spoiler alerts.  Do not read unless you want to know stuff."


I could hear them off in the distance.  A town filled with desolation and despair from 60 years of economic decline due to one dragon's peculiar addiction to gold. (No.  The name of the seaport was not Detroit.) A town lead by a crooked man who just wanted the people to blindlessly follow him. A greasy man who loved his alcohol.  And a sidekick who was even greasier and dressed in black.  The town itself used to be a hub of merchant trading but ever since the dwarfs lost their mountain to Smaug, economic decay and poverty was their trademark.  But now, because of a team of dwarfs and one burglar, the town was threatened with annihilation by the beast who's name is Smaug.  This was how Hobbit 2 ended.  Our story began with an initial meeting between Gandolph the Grey and Thorin in a tavern.  If Gandolph hadn't of shown up, the little dwarf king was about to be (que the music - dum, dum, dummmmm) murdered.  So, Thorin and Gandolph agree to take back the mountain.  Now, in our first episode of The Hobbit, our troup of adventurers find themselves dropped off on a hill by some really big birds.  The Eagles, not to be confused with the group who gave us Hotel California, are no where to be seen in Hobbit 2.  In fact, they were pretty embarrassed by the whole rescue scene where they kept dropping the little guys and having to fly in and catch them.  But I digress ... the gang of eleven and the wizard and a Hobbit named Bilbo begin the second leg of their journey through a forest filled with evil mutant spiders.  Now the evil is so thick that it alters the mind into seeing strange things and causes the traveler to feel confused and disoriented.  It reminded me of my senior trip to St. Louis so many years ago.  I was 18 and spiders still seemed pretty big to me.  And I remember how confused I felt in "the big city".  There were no spider webs though.  And I was never wrapped up in a cocoon so the similarities are minimal.  That's when the elves came.  Not the St. Louis elves.  Actually, these are the ancient pretty ones.  I never actually saw any elves on my senior trip but it wasn't really that time of year.  So, the elves save the dwarfs and then throw them in prison.  I guess that would be my first instinct after saving someone's life as well.  It's pretty typical of an elves' to-do list - 1.  Hang out in the forest.  2. Kill the big spiders.  3.  Imprison anyone we find in any cocoons.  4.  Get yelled at by the head elf 'cause we didn't kill all the spiders the first time.  6.  Fall in love with a dwarf which adds NOTHING to our story.  Well, it may have given the two elves an excuse to go off on another daring adventure after being ordered not to leave the elf land but how was she supposed to know that when she left without regard for herself cause that one dwarf was soooooo adorable and he had that shiny stone his mother had given him.  An elf's life is hard.   So Bilbo uses his ring to hide from the bad/good elves and ends up rescuing the dwarves (again).  Now escapes are hard, especially when your captors are asleep ten feet away from you.  So, the best thing to do is make the loudest noise possible and steel all the wooden barrels.  But it does make for an exciting barrel chase/execution down the river with elves jumping on your heads while the ravenous evil orks are trying to kill everybody.  So, at this point, the Orks have been outwitted (who could have seen that one coming?) and our heroes continue on down the river.  Enter the strange human with a boat.  It's at this point one of the wise dwarves decides to reason with the guy in the boat (who just happens to be an important descendant of the marksman who should have shot down the dragon when he first attacked the mountain.  He did actually hit the dragon but just knicked him (sort of).  So, as convenient coincidences go, this one was very useful in our story.  Now fish, when used in any story, are always a crowd pleaser.  Especially when you're a dwarf stuffed into a wooden barrel being transported into a convenient city which just happened to be the home of the guy who should have shot down the dragon but didn't and you're covering the heads of the dwarves in the barrels.  Fish are useful that way.  So, after many confusing chases through the town, and after being hidden by the family of the man who is the descendant of the man who happened to not be a dwarf but served as the human who manned the most advanced weapon using the most advanced iron arrows which are the only one which can pierce the armor of any dragon, our heroes find themselves being given a heroes send off to reclaim their rightful place in the mountain.  So, they make their way to the invisible door in the mountain and give up when the sun goes down and all hope is lost.  But the Hobbit won't give up.  Because he knows the movie needs to last another hour and he needs to get paid for the third episode of this epic adventure so he will stand there and figure out where that blasted key goes to.  And as soon as I yelled "What about moonlight?  Can't moonlight be the last light they're talking about in the map?"  the moon came out and we see the moonlight light up the key hole that can't be seen any other day of the year.  I was a freakin' genius.  But did I get credit?  No.  And then the hobbit kicks the key off the mountain but Thorin shows up and catches it before it falls off the side of Lonely Mountain.  Then they go inside and torque off the dragon and he crashes through the side of the mountain bent on destroying the tiny little seaport who aren't smart enough to fish for themselves. And that is how the second part of the trilogy of The Hobbit ended. And all I could think of was why those stupid eagles couldn't have dropped them off at the mountain to begin with.   I should have stayed home and slept.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.   And that's all I have to say about that.

Real review of Hobbit 2 - part one

"Now this is a story all about how,
Bilbo Baggins got flipped, turned upside down,
It took 160 minutes for me to sit right there
And watch a Hobbit, with a ring, to get real scared"

(Caution!! This review may contain possibilities of spoiler alerts not suitable for true Tolkien fandage!!)


Let me begin by telling you I was tired.  Real tired.  The week was long and cold.  Darkness surrounded the two of us as we entered the lobby of the old theater.  Normally the lights are out at this time of night.  Midnight -the hour of possibility and nightmares.  As we made our way to the cashier, a feeling of excitement and wonder filled our anticipation and curiosity.  We had waited, as so many others had, for the sequel to the prequel of the trilogy of The Lord Of The Rings.  Our journey had only just begun with the conclusion of the first installment of The Hobbit.  Who was Smaug and why would a dragon bury himself under so much gold?  Who was Bilbo Baggins and his arch enemy Smeagol?  Would Smeagol even make an appearance in the second installment? Would Harry Potter battle Gandolph the Grey in this one?  Would the Ork's continue hunting the dwarves and would the elves continue working establishing their rule in the cookie industry?  So many questions and only 2 hours and 40 minutes to find out.  I must admit I was still questioning the eagles and why they wouldn't just drop off the wizard and little guys on top of Lonely Mountain.  The whole time I'm watching Hobbit 2 - the question lingered.  Why wouldn't the eagles fly an extra couple of minutes and drop them off at the foot of that mountain?  "Why?"!!!!!!, I silently screamed as the weary, battled travelers made their way through a weird forest?  "Why?"!!!!!, I agonized while watching them being chased in barrels by the Orks.  For me, the movie was a string of "why's?"  "Why?" would an elfin lass fall under the spell of a quick witted little dwarf with a black shiny rock given to him by his mother?  Why would Gandolph wander off by himself and get himself trapped in a cage?  Why isn't agent Smith from the Matrix in this one? How did Smaug survive 60 years inside the mountain without eating?  Where the heck is Smeagol?  Why doesn't Bilbo just wear the ring all of the time when danger first approaches?  Why doesn't Smaug just melt Bilbo the first time he sees him?  Why are fish so much trouble?  How do the dwarves get their weapons back when the Orks attack?  How did Kate make it off the island and where the heck is Sawyer?  And why doesn't anyone call her Freckles in this one?  And how does everyone forget about moonlight?  And how did Thorin recover so quickly after the last Ork attack before the eagles showed up in the first Hobbit?  Reviewing this movie as just a movie, without ties to the first Hobbit or ties to the final episode, I would describe the movie off-paced with many breaks in rhythm.  The effort by the director, in stretching out this epic tale into three, drawn out movies, to secure profits, could be summarized as bold and tiring.  I believe, on its own merits, the tale of The Hobbit could have been well done with a single, two hour movie.  I do blame my own weariness as the main culprit in my initial displeasure with Hobbit 2.  It was after waking up the next morning that the questions came.  What upsets me the most with Hobbit 2 was the final question after really seeking out my true feelings upon this viewing - How could a movie this long, as a number two in a trilogy, have no real continuity or rhythm?  Yes, I was already physically and mentally fatigued prior to the start of Hobbit 2.  I'm just thankful I didn't endure 3 hours of wearing 3D glasses for this one.  I am already in the process of working on the sequel of this review where I really get in depth on my reflections of my initial feelings on the The Hobbit 2 - A Dwarf and His Dragon.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Hobbit - Desolation of Smaug review

It was kinda long.

"Resistance Is Futile" - Ohm's Law - the movie

From the moment of birth to our last breath, entertainment is a driving force in our lives.  From our first laugh to our last cry, the ability to focus on something outside of ourselves is a motivational force that drives us in our lives.  For me, as for many others, visual documentation in the form of cinema is a relished past time.  I would not want to know how many hours or days I have spent in front of a screen in the search of alternative diversion from my boring life - or at least the normal life I live, but I'm sure the number is a large one.  I was reminded of this fact while watching a video of a favored film critic of mine who asked a simple question - what was the moment at which I knew I loved the movies?  An interesting question that piqued my interest.  Something else of interest is the fact that the old saying "piqued my interest" is often thought of as "peeked my interest" but pique, by definition, is to provoke or arouse.  To peek is merely to take a quick glance or a stolen observation which just cannot work in that phrase for our purposes.  One may disagree on this observation but that's just how it goes sometimes.  So, my interest was piqued.  And I considered the many movies I have observed in my lifetime.  I've watched many different genres and types of movies.  So for me, as an individual rather than a statistical figure, a movie is so much more than just a diversion.  Movies to me are pretty important.  In fact, I would say that a good movie, based upon my own personal criteria, could be considered an achievement rather than just a diversion.  For me, a movie provides mental fitness and emotional stability.  Now, I must make this clear - I am not saying that my happiness or sanity is based upon how many hours of satisfactory viewing I am able to achieve for the week.  Not at all.  What I'm saying is that movies and television provide a necessary stability to my life.  And I believe this is true (the stability of mental and emotional health) that can be found in many of us.  We, as a people, have always needed a good story in words and visual representation.  From the earliest records of man we see this evidence.  Man has always required the outside influence from storytelling or dance or many other forms of entertainment.  I believe man/mankind will always require to think about the "what if's" and the possibilities outside of himself.  From daydreaming to dreaming at night - even nightmares provide a level of fear and problem solving the mind seems to require and even demand of us in the subconscious level.  Even while at rest our minds form dreams and nightmares built upon memories of past faces and bits of our lives from our waking hours.  And the question we must ask is "why?".   Why is it when the body is at rest the mind is required such a work out?  Is it for our bodies benefit?  That  does not seem likely due to the fact our muscles become useless in our deepest dreams.  But I don't believe our minds would do so much in our sleep periods if it wasn't for our own health.  So, it isn't a matter of feeding some emotional nutrient that our mind is lacking or solving some unsolved problem.  Well, the unsolved problem aspect could play a part of it but I believe it goes much further than that.  The mind itself is locked away in our brains with no outside influence other than what we take in with our own senses.  If the mind rested we cease in rational functioning.  So, I theorize that the mind requires the input that it devises on its own.  Much like certain types of sharks that have to constantly move to force the water in that gives them the oxygen they require, the mind must not stand still either.  I believe that dreams and nightmares are required of those minds that must continue moving through their complex analysis of data.  For some, like other types of sharks, the mind is at rest a majority of time anyway so the mind doesn't require the constant analysis so it does rest.  I do believe it is a matter of intelligence and is a survival technique of those with a constant problem solving mode of thinking.  In our waking moments, the mind finds sustenance from different forms of outside entertainment such as reading, television, and movies.  Some minds merely adapt from the absence of data by referrals from memories processed within itself using still pictures from old albums.  Each of us, as individuals, processes at whatever rate the mind requires.  This process can be changed from our infancy but requires an assertive effort on our own.  So, going back to the original question - "When did I first know I loved the movies?" may not be the right question - for me at least.  I, as an individual, probably found the movies provide a level of problem solving and emotional sustenance that was similar to vitamins and minerals for my body.  My mind, when it was allowed this form of outside stimuli, reacted to it like a missing food that quenched a hunger that was lacking in other stimulus' my mind had previously been feed.  For me, a movie has to have a point or provide a strong emotional component I can connect with. I find this in television shows as well.  If it's stupid or pointless than I don't really want to watch it and my mind and emotional center push me off in some other direction.  So, for me, movies aren't really just a distraction - they are important to my mental and emotional stability.  I just never realized it before.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

The Wheels On The Buss Fall Off, Off, Off

I love to tell a good story.  Especially when it happens to be true.  The false ones are okay but it takes a lot of commitment to lie from beginning to end.  Also, my fake stories are usually meant to humor the listener and I usually snicker or giggle by the end of it.  But the true stories are the best.  Especially when they happen to me.  This is one such story:

When I was young my parents forced me into an institution against my will.  It wouldn't be until years later that my parents would inform me that they had no choice - leaders from the state had imposed such requirements and parents had no other option.  The institution would send a bus to pick me up and the dread would fill me like dread has a way of doing.  I remember the concrete walls and the adults in charge of me.  Some of those paid to watch over me were decent but there were a few who honestly hated children.  The days at the institution were filled with lectures and work.  I don't know if our paintings by hand were sold on the black market or merely brought home for the amusement of those adults but it was made clear to me and the rest of the children, held against our will, that our artwork must be completed.  At meal times we were lined up in a column and ordered into another building where we were given a choice of regular milk or chocolate milk.  I always questioned the smiles we would see when we were asked which milk we would prefer.  I would always offer up an answer and then wait for the adult's reaction.  If there was any indication of pleasure on the face of that adult I would hastily change my decision.  The days seemed to last forever once we were returned to the interrogation rooms.  They would seat us in little chairs attached to a wood tray type device and we would be forced to study symbols for hours at a time.  Over the course of many years we would come to understand that these symbols were connected together for some type of code which allowed communications with others.  We also learned certain symbols and markings could be strung together in a language which allowed for various calculations we were told we would need later in our training.  We were conditioned to respond to loud bells and forced to listen to endless speeches from the adults who would stand in front of us and preach about these communications with symbols and varying degrees of complexity in using the markings to bring different results with the symbols.  Some of us would accomplish these mundane tasks and we would be rewarded with advancements in our training.  These "rewards" would only mean more work and lengthier lectures with different adults.  Our minds and bodies would be conditioned by these state workers until one day we were given our freedom.  This illusion of "freedom" would begin an even lengthier sentence in the outside world where our conditioning would bring us into terrifying hours of menial labor in which we would be granted payments based upon a monetary system based upon a pledge of a bankrupt government that promised some imaginary backing to some type of paper currency.  Myself, as well as a large part of the population, forced by the state to endure these institutions, have been altered on the conscious and subconscious level to continue adhering to their control. Our parents, also part of this broken and systematic derailment of mental stability, helplessly watched their young indoctrinated by these state institutions under the guise of "education" and "structure".  The freedom I barely remember seems so far away and so long ago.  As I said, I love to tell a good story.  And the best ones are the true ones.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

On a side note - it was while riding on one of the vehicles of the state designed for the transportation of little ones such as myself at that age, that a funny thing happened upon being delivered back to my parents.  The bus ride home usually lasted around an hour and it was on one such afternoon that the passenger side wheels of this bus came off and we were slammed into a ditch along the road.  We had to leave the bus using the emergency exit at the back.  Like I said, the true stories are the best ones to tell.

The Coldest Of Summers

The park bench was colder than it should have been thought Justin.  And why did Derrick want to talk this early anyway?  "I must have been crazy to tell him I'd be here.", Justin told no one in particular.  It was late afternoon when Derrick had called.  Justin was rather surprised Derrick would even call him, let alone want to meet publicly.  The argument had lasted for days and Justin figured Derrick would be the last person calling him.  "Just meet me in the old spot.", he had begged.  It was more out of curiosity than forgiveness that lead Justin to that bench. The November air was chilly and there were no signs of life left from the previous summers they had shared playing here.  This had been their favorite spot.  Two boys who had grown up and grown so far apart.  And it all had to do with a girl.  It always did.  Women and money can usually be found as the culprits that start wars between the best of friendships.  But if ever there was cause for such a battle, Jennifer was just cause.  They had always fought for her affections since grade school.  And she always knew.  Life was simpler back in those days.  The stakes didn't feel as high back then.  But now, in the waning days of adolescence, the battle for her affections had finally done in the childhood friendship.  And this had been too much for Jennifer as well.  She had had enough.  An ultimatum had been given and Jennifer was the kind of girl who considered herself no one's plaything.  The boys would have to grow up if she was to remain in their lives.  It was on this very bench when Justin had revealed his true feelings for her. And it was on this bench he had watched her walk away.  In his heart he knew he would never be with her.  Derrick understood that truth as well. Truth can be as evasive as anything else if we run from it fast enough.  And the heart has a way of hiding the realities of life.  And men will always be their own worse enemy.  The memories of those past summers flooded into Justin's thoughts like a gentle wave that comes in and overtakes the shoreline.  His fondest memories were the ones that included both Jennifer and Derrick.  Every pleasant recollection of his past would inevitably find either one or both included in those fond images.  Life itself reflected every smile and tear that had molded Justin.  But patience was one trait that seemed most allusive to him.  "Where is he?" Justin thought to himself.  The cold has a way of permeating into every pore of a man when the darkness gives way to the dawn.  The longer he waited the more intense the chill filled the air.  "I'll give you five more minutes, Mr. Potter, but then I must haste my departure."  Justin smiled to himself in his cleverness.  His two friends found his obsession with the Harry Potter series curious but they were not fans like he was.  His catch phrase "You're a wizard Harry."  had gone old in a brief matter of time.  It was usually in the silence and the separation that he would continue with his fascination alone.  Times such as this. Perhaps the silence was in order.  "A man's perspective can only be found at times such as this." his father used to say.  He missed him as well.  It was in that fall, after his father had died so suddenly, that Justin had become the closest with Derrick and Jennifer.  Perhaps their friendship may have been the only thing that had saved him.   And it was that same friendship that held him seated at the bench.  But it was cold and his shift at the sandwich shop would start in an hour.  It was better than nothing his mother would remind him when he felt down about it.  He hated the job but he was grateful to be working.  "Time waits for no one." was another favorite of his father's trusted sayings.  Like his father, his phone seemed so far away as well.  "Why did I leave without it?" he asked to no one in particular.  The horizon was filled with the morning light as he saw his mother approach from the distance.  "Justin?" she asked as she drew near.  "Hey mom, just waiting for Derrick.  What are you doing here?"  The sadness on her face was a familiar sight to him.  He recalled the months she had worn it after the funeral.  But he could see compassion as well.  "Justin, why don't we go home?"  Her eyes held so much truth but he wouldn't allow that.  He couldn't.  "Mom, he'll be here.  He has to."  The silence was familiar as well.  It was in those moments of silence that they had grown close as well.  "Hon, you know Derrick can't come, right?"  There was agony in her eyes as well now.  That was another reflection of those months as well.  "He'll be here.  He was very serious when I talked to him."  Her eyes slowly closed as she pondered her next words.  "Justin, please."  Her hand reached out to him as the memories flooded back.  The truth, as evasive as it is, and no matter how far we run, will eventually find us given enough time.  Slowly, like an old VHS tape pieced together, the images came back.  That last night Derrick and him had ridden together.  The sound of the glass breaking.  The blood on the dashboard.  Every horrific moment of that last car ride played out in his mind.  Justin slowly felt that sadness he had pushed so far away envelope him like molasses.  He felt his mother's arm wrap around him as the tears flooded his vision.  His last memory of Derrick, before the crash, was the hate they felt towards each other as they yelled about Jennifer. Who liked her more and who she liked better.  Justin would never be able to tell him how much he had meant to him all those years.  He would never be able to tell him how his friendship had saved him when he wanted to commit suicide after his father's death.  Those words of his father surfaced once more in Justin's mind.  "Time waits for no one."    My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.