Knocked Up and Windmills
I saw Knocked Up. I originally thought I’d have to see it alone because Beki is mad that there are never any films where the woman just has an abortion. I told her about Maud and it just made her angry that we haven’t progressed in forty years. I reminded her that I wouldn’t be here if some people didn’t just go with it, but she was unconvinced. Anyway, time appears to soften all convictions and she was pretty excited about the film (the fact that The 40 Year Old Virgin is on HBO every other day probably helped).
I loved it. I’ve a huge fan of Judd Apatow since Freaks and Geeks, and I think he just keeps getting better. I won’t say that Knocked Up is funnier or better than The 40 Year Old Virgin, but it is impressive. Apatow has a way of melding improve and dialogue so that people actually sound like people. He’s unafraid of dealing with things as we all experience them and not just how we want to experience them. That’s not to say that he isn’t a romantic. I can’t imagine that his films will ever have anything less than a perfect ending, but getting there is never easy or naive. The film also made me a huge fan of Katherine Heigl. I might have to watch Grey’s Anatomy (but probably not).
On my way back to New Mexico from Florida, we flew over windmills in Texas. I always try and get a window seat when I can, and this time it really paid off. I was listening to the new Low album (more on this in a future post) and the clouds opened up just in time to see a field of windmills. I’ve never seen the white, slick, contemporary windmills, but there they were, clear as day. They spin much faster than I expected. They were beautiful. I’m always amazed and delighted when purely pragmatic design has the secondary quality of being aesthetically perfect. You couldn’t ask for a cleaner, prettier piece of industrial equipment. Plus, you don’t have to feel bad because wind-power is so good.
A Shocking Good time
I’ve written about the insane static electricity here in Los Alamos. Alba now has decided that she enjoys being shocked by her favorite chair. Or maybe it’s her favorite chair because it shocks her. Either way, she licks the metal legs hoping for a shock. She’s starting to figure out that in order to be shocked she has to charge herself. She sits on the chair and licks the metal and gets shocked. She continues to lick until she is sure she will no longer be shocked. Then she slides off the chair and either licks or touches the legs again. She gets shocked and jumps back into the chair. Repeat for ten to fifteen minutes. She’s doing it as I type this.
Sparks will fly
The static electricity is so intense here that I dread shutting the car door and touching my ipod. The cat has it particularly bad. She's white and incredibly fluffy (which causes me to hate her every time I want to wear a black suit jacket). She has been known to try and lick the metal legs of the chair. There's an audible pop. At night, on the wool blanket, in the dark, she comes to you and demand to be pet. You can see the electricity when you run your hand down her back or rub her ear. It's pretty; like stirring up phosphorescence in the Gulf.
