21 Films

     These films are stories of love, war, or life. Some grab me on a personal level, others are entertaining. Many of them are funny; others are deep, sad, or profound. The writing and direction is beautiful and they carry messages that appeal to a wide audience. I would recommend any of these films, so if you're headed out to Blockbuster any time soon, pick up one of the following titles:

1.Forrest Gump 2.Meet Joe Black 3.The Notebook 4.Dazed and Confused 5.Wedding Crashers 6.The Sandlot 7.Fever Pitch 8.Pearl Harbor 9.Hairspray 10.Glory 11.Animal House 12.Casablanca 13.Batman Begins 14.Mean Girls 15.10 Things I Hate About You 16.Clueless 17.Stomp the Yard 18.The Little Rascals 19.Zoolander 20.Home Alone 21.Angels in the Outfield

"Multiply it by infinity, and take it to the depth of forever, and you will still have barely a glimpse of what I'm talking about." –Meet Joe Black

Photographs of Baltimore

The Nation Believes

Contrary to what one may think upon seeing this post's title, this is actually about the Boston Red Sox, rather than politics. And the nation to which I refer is the highly regarded and widely revered Red Sox Nation. This great nation stretches across political, socioeconomic, ethnic, religious, and political boundaries. There are Catholics for Red Sox, Evangelists for Red Sox, Jews for Red Sox. I myself am an Episcopalian for Red Sox. No matter the situation, nothing brings joy to a Red Sox fan like a David Ortiz home-run. Or the boy who makes his home inside the Green Monster. Sorry Cubs fans, the Green Monster indisputably puts the Wrigley Field ivy to shame. Anyways, this boy has the power to overjoy an entire nation when he changes the out of town scoreboard, revealing to an elated group of Fenway Faithful, that, indeed, the Yankees have lost again. 86 seems to be a particularly bad number for New York. It denotes the number of years after which Yankee Stadium closed, as well as the number of years after which the Evil Empire began to unravel. But this season, we need not concern ourselves with those inferior creatures from the Evil Empire. The "House That Ruth Built" will soon be gone, and the Yanks will also end their twelve year string of post-season appearances. It's about time. Of course, we still hate the Yankees, Babe Ruth is still an unhappy subject, and no, we do not forgive Manny. The potential to face the LA Dodgers in a World Series match-up, and to hear some interesting comments from Manny, is still very real. (The Dodgers did, however, lose last night; take that Manny, Nomah, and D-Lowe.) But, for now, there are some incredibly interesting story lines to develop in the ALCS. Of course, there have been some incredible bench clearing brawls between the Red Sox and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays (no I will not omit the "devil.") And the storied reincarnation, or perhaps, first-ever birth, of the Rays, who are typically the runt of the division, if not the entire league. We eagerly await Jason Bay's first time on the big stage, and so far, not a single disgruntled, unhappy Revere man could call in to WEEI 850 and complain. Besides, "Remdawg" wouldn't take it; Bay has been exceptional. There's Beckett, coming off an injury, and Daisuke struggling with consistency. There are the Sportscenter analysts doubting the team's capabilities with out veteran Curt Schilling. (Schill, maybe you should have spent less time taping advertisements for John McCain and more time in physical therapy.)  To say the least, we of Red Sox Nation have much to be excited about when the competition comes to Beantown for Game 3. Sweet Caroline is already on cue, the sausage guys are setting up shop down on Yawkee way, and the Cask and Flagon is raging. Hopefully, we'll go in with some wins, but if not, part of my Red Sox Nation experience is dealing with pain. As is my father's experience, and my mother's, and my Aunt Elizabeth's, and my Uncle Steve's, and Uncle Tim's. And Nana's and Grandad's. 

     The once great dynasty of 1912, 1915, 1916, and 1918, was smothered by the curse of the killer B's. Babe. To fund a New York City musical? No, NO, Nanette! And Bucky. 1978 Pennant Race. (And critics says the Cubs can't win one!) Buckner. 1986. You ALL know this story, but what you might not know is Calvin Shiraldi began to self-destruct. Poor Bill and his bad knees are the scapegoats. And Boone. Aaron Boone. 2003 ALCS. Game 7. But we prevailed! Fever Pitch will tell you that, "God's most pathetic creature," is, in fact, ".... a Red Sox fan." I prefer to think of Red Sox Nation as a land of exceptionalism. Then again, maybe Mayor Rudolph Giuliani will tell you that's something reserved for America. But he's a Yankees fan, so who's listening?

Orphanage Outreach

Suspended They don't have much No, not much at all Back, forth. Swinging on the playground Back, forth. Back and forth. Symmetrical, synonymous. Like one, back and forth. They are one people, one love. The blazing orange fruit leaves and palm. So green, so lively Like the children Their smiles flash, dazzling, briefly. Exuding curiosity, hope. So young, so innocent I hope They will not become that which they see on the bench. on the corner. They swing. Suspended. Between not having much. And having it all. Counting, in unison, they jump off. Each landing a perfect ten. Her Sister's Shoulders A weekend afternoon. Late. The vibrant street music floats and wafts from the 'desolate' town like a sweet scent, upon a breeze. A child walks along, following the music Or is she carrying it? like so much else. Those shoulders already bear so much weight. she pauses. then takes her sister's hand. and leads her home. Or at least to a house. Maybe.

Orphanage Outreach

Monte Cristi, Dominican Republic Orphanage Outreach June 2008 Each day, it becomes clearer to us that "last year" has come to embody the experiences we shared during our weeks in Monte Cristi. With each passing day, it is evident that all of our intentions lead us back there next year, and undoubtedly, with next year, will come many opportunities to reminisce about this year (which of course will be next year's last year). There will indeed be much to remember. Luckily, there will be many people to share these memories with. Within each of us is a collection of images and quotations, conversations and gestures. This shoebox captures a wide range of emotion and a variety of people. Every single one of those people is absolutely, inarguably, beautiful. We remember so vividly the wild, fast paced message chain on the eve of our trip, the trepidation, hesitancy, and confusion. Uncertainties regarding food, dress, what terminal to arrive at, when to arrive, even which airport we would be departing from. We remember the unsettling tension, and then the excitement. We dragged our bags from Fast Park, or wherever, and across the floor, filled with ruts and scratches from the beginnings and endings of so many peoples' journeys. The feeling of spotting a familiar classmate, a friend, out of the crowd of people waiting to be checked in. The relief when the chaperones came, and upon stepping through the security line unscathed. The worry, as boarding time approached and all but one of us sat quietly. We were waiting, hoping we would not leave without her. The joy to see her rush onto the plane, as we took off down the tarmac, signals cleared. We remember the feeling of savoring that last piece of pizza, that last Vanilla Bean Frappuccino, in Miami, before departing for uncharted, unfamiliar territory. We remember the languish of waiting in the newly discovered heat and poverty, we handled baggage situations. The growing comradeship on the long bus ride, down poverty stricken, dust blown roads, was tangible. The excitement upon finally arriving at our home for the next two weeks, or possibly a home in an even more permanent sense. The feeling of being let loose on our kingdom, our palette, to paint and make our mark upon. A clean slate, an opportunity to reinvent oneself, but also to change someone's life, or perhaps the lives of many. The warm, familiar satisfaction of eating a home cooked meal, in the company of lifelong friends. The pages on the calendar fly by from this point onward, uncontrollably flapping, leaving a whirlwind of random and beautiful memories in their dust. Our first morning, the sky an unfathomable shade of blue, the light seeping through the thatched roof and across the wooden slats of the porch, as we sit; reading, thinking, pondering, missing, preparing, sharing, laughing. Our first walk into the seemingly strange town, so lively and happy, even shrouded in darkness. The jovial charisma of the manager at the Chic Hotel, where we exchanged money, and the excitement accompanying glances of people and places and things, animals, and plants, and foods, lifestyles so diverse, so unfamiliar, but at the same time unified, similar, rich in beauty and tradition. The first morning at Batey Maguaca, learning the ropes, building the beginnings of trust, friendship, and love, with children who live in huts, lean-to's, and shacks, among cows, and sheep, and goats. The same uncertainties reflecting back at us from their faces, their eyes, as we unload the bus. The gradual trust as we discover more meaningful relationships. The frustration of afternoon Science Camp, the children reserved and unwilling to participate. The joy and pride, multiplying day by day. The sadness of being ripped away from our home at the Bateys, the embodiment of our love, attesting to the bonds, inseverable and forever.

The Beach on Friday, each grain of sea salt, each wave of sand, each touch of blue in the water, etched indelibly into our minds. The gentle surf, the waves lapping away at El Morro, during our sunrise venture.

With each day, the waves take another trace of sediment and rock away, undetectable from one moment to the next, but powerful and forceful over a span of moments, years, endless time, that spreads across the expanse of golden shore. That first night in the park, playing soccer under the stars, 

The rush of warm blood, a quilt of emotions and personalities, stitched together with the world's most beautiful and universal game. The high tensions and the trivial nature of the game. The warm breeze, the slowly sinking sun, the beads of sweat as they drip down our foreheads are precursors of the exhaustion to come. The slowing pace of the game, night, witnessed for the first time in all of its magnitude and splendor. We remember the good natured apprehension upon the arrival of others. The conversations; frivolous, playful, others mature, full of substance. The simple gestures and shared love of soccer, people, smiles, lollipops, hugs, kisses on the cheek, and friendship, that above all "transcend every language barrier." The now familiar groove of the Kiddie Camp, the crunch of chocolate wafers, trickling of water, lemonade. Joselito wants lemonade. The crinkling of saltines, the smooth spread of the rich, creamy, peanut butter. The birthday cakes and goodbye parties. The late night conversations, card games, and learning experiences. Making picture dictionaries for security guards. The security guards make a home for us and share stories of their lives, their families, their culture, their experiences. The irritation of learning a new card game before mastering it. The concept of orienting oneself with something greatly unfamiliar, seemingly a hindrance at first, but in the afterglow, in hindsight, a necessity. Something basic yet powerful. The apprehension upon arriving at the Haitian border, and being out of our friend's line of sight. The relief upon emerging from the jungle of vibrancy, intact and whole, but nonetheless changed, bettered. The juicy mango and papaya, displayed in rainbows on silver platters.

The small, sweet, quenching satisfaction of a limoncello, hand picked, and glowing, ravished by late afternoon light. It lies in the palm of an eight year old's hand. He holds it out in offering, as a gift, a sign of friendship, of acceptance, of loyalty, of gratitude. 

His brother holds out a bracelet and slips it onto your wrist, begging you not to forget. Not to forget him, his brother, the children, the soccer, the park, the night, the warmth, the town, the country, but instead to remember everything that boy is, has, and stands for. Above all, these children; they stand for hope, we exist to give them hope, but instead, they fill us with hope. They exude happiness, they exude power, strength and ambition. Confidence. It is these gestures, these memories, that tell us we have succeeded in what we set out to do. That small bracelet, with its intricate beading and tight clasp, means the world. It shows that similarities overcome differences, love overcomes hate, loyalty overcomes infidelity.

The reluctance, hesitancy, sadness, full fledged refusal to leave the park, leave the children, our children, until we are dragged kicking and screaming to the bus. The anguish, melancholy, and heartache, of the unending bus ride, the beginning of our return to where we live. Where we "live." I think our real home is in that park, with those nights, and those hugs, that joy, that unity, that sense of pride, that irrevocable, unbreakable bond between us and them. Alexis was correct in the end, philosopher that he was, when asserting that "love has no age." Truly it doesn't. Not only are all of us of different ages and backgrounds, the statement applies as a double entendre, as the love we know with these people will never age, never grow old, never fade, falter or disappear. It is the star that never loses its glow, never falls, and never deteriorates or weakens. Our love is forever.

New Developments/ On My Mind

Last night's debate was interesting. Perhaps even dissatisfied viewers should feel lucky that they were graced by the presence of both candidates. Maybe we should all realize what terrible people we are for making the Republican Presidential Nominee actually speak to us, when he could be out doing "better" things. Saving the world. But like the true American hero that he is, John McCain put aside more pressing matters, ultimately dragging himself down to Mississippi for, wince, the first Presidential Debate. I understand John McCain's decision to "put aside" his campaign in this economic crisis (In reality, he pulled a few TV ads and talked big about going to Washington.) But to what extent was all of his world-saving successful? Was he even in Washington? And even if he did, as claimed, try ever so hard to come to a bi-partisan agreement to the benefit of the people, has any such agreement developed? Did he play a key role in trying to develop it? And if so, I might like to remind Mr McCain that the President of the United States is head of the Executive branch of government, NOT the legislative one. While he has shown utmost leadership and commitment to solving this economic problem single-handedly, has McCain's performance shown us anything about his ability to be Chief Executive? I would say not.      Once again, I might also like to remind Mr McCain that there is a difference between foreign policy and military intervention, just as Mr McCain reminded us of the difference between tactic and strategy. Also, Mr McCain, this is the year 2008, not 1863, not 1945. The world has changed. Wars have changed. General Petraeus, the man you support, has attempted to restructure and expand the military agenda. We might also take into consideration that the definition of war different than it used to be. There are no longer going to be clear cut victories. There will not be a formal surrender, on the deck of a United States Aircraft Carrier, as your grandfather witnessed. 

     You MUST realize this. You must realize that the wars of the past are not those of today, or of the future. You must realize that history repeats itself in rhyme. You must cast off your aspiration to "win" in Iraq and make up for VietNam. You and your father believe that war was "winnable," but whether or not VietNam was winnable, it is irrelevant to the challenges we face today. 

     In the debate last night, you stated that you have promised a New England mother not to let her young soldier die in vain. Here's some news; the best way to honor this hero is to make wise, valid, and current decisions, decisions that will protect the rest of our heroes. As Commander in Chief, you would need to realize that this is a new century, a new millennium, a new war. You need to realize that assessing the war without the preconceptions of your militaristic past is the best way to honor this soldier.      You criticized Barack Obama heavily for his willingness to sit down with other nations' leaders "without precondition." There is a difference between preparation and precondition. Mr Obama would be in absolutely NO way validating or supporting a leader's agendas, simply by sitting down at a table with him. John McCain, THIS IS HOW FOREIGN POLICY WORKS. Mr Obama has said he would meet with these leaders head on, not to validate them, or to empower them, but to speak to them, to use diplomacy, as a means to come to agree, discuss, or compromise. It is naive, and ignorant, as well as misleading to the American people, to suggest that by meeting with Iran we are giving a notion of legitimacy or thought towards all of their actions. It is untrue and wrong to implicate Barack Obama as being an advocate of the viewpoints of any country he wants to meet with.    John McCain, leaders take charge. Leaders meet with leaders to solve the biggest problems. Choosing to meet with other leaders personally, shows awareness and dedication.       Foreign policy is not "bomb, bomb, bomb Iran." It is not making foreign relations worse, by refusing to meet with world powers. Good leadership is not showing utter and visible contempt for a fellow American in a Presidential debate. How are we supposed to expect you will relate to opponents that are not Americans? The world is not black and white. People are not good and evil. You need to abandon the dangerous, cavalier, and militaristic attitude that promotes your world view. Leaders with much more executive power, and less patience, than Senator Obama currently has, will NOT be receptive to these strategies. Other nations, if offended, will answer with diplomatic, economic, and military force that would threaten our entire nation.      Further, Sarah Palin has shown herself to be weak on issues, and well in need of some major grooming over the past week. As much as you have tried, you cannot put the debates off until December, and you cannot hide your campaign's positions on the issues under Sarah Palin's celebrity appeal. I guess when Sarah finally finds out what the Bush Doctrine is or gets some valid information to share, she'll "find it and [she'll] bring it to ya'." I mean, us. And if you're not too busy single handedly batting down this bailout plan, saving the world, misconstruing Mr Obama's words, and interviewing with Katie Couric, I know David Letterman would just LOVE to have you on his show. He really missed you last week, when you cancelled so you could go to "Washington." Next time I catch up, we'll do the economy and partisan politics. My knowledge, however, may pale in comparison to the newly acquired financial genius Ms Palin seems to have found herself.

Let's Talk

A couple of musings regarding recent developments in the political race: So there has been much talk about Sarah Palin, and how she has "revitalized" or "energized" the Republican base. Now, it's great for Republicans to take a renewed interest in politics, seeing as John McCain didn't quite do it for them. But how does energizing the conservative base in an increasingly partisan political environment help the country? Likewise, it's great that Sarah Palin is one of the guys up in Alaska, hunts, and eats moose burgers. But once again, what does this have to do with the Presidency? Palin pursued her own aspirations, accepting John McCain's Vice Presidential offer, after a very short and incomplete interview. Did I mention she put her pregnant seventeen year old daughter in the spotlight of an entire nation? Sarah Palin did want the Bridge to Nowhere, until she realized how unpopular it was. Or maybe, we should talk about the Time cover, the US Weekly, the People, the tabloids. Or Reverend Muthie, the minister who prayed for her in the gubernatorial race, and hunted Kenyan "witches" in his spare time. Every day, a new story comes out about Ms. Palin. It is irrefutable that she is a supremely interesting woman, but do these characteristics mean she can be Vice President of the United States? I believe not. For someone that admittedly does not think much about foreign policy or the economy, for someone who deems herself an energy expert, she sure isn't ready to take over our country. (I'm sorry, but running Alaska, where citizens receive royalties for oil and don't have difficult taxing problems, should not count as the "executive experience" John McCain lords over the Obama campaign. Not to mention the population of the state of Alaska is less than that of Baltimore County. And I would hardly be ready to elect Jim Smith Vice President.) John McCain is seventy three, a cancer survivor, and was once a prisoner of war in Hanoi, Vietnam for five years (in case you didn't hear Republicans brag about this without end at their convention). More likely than not, something will happen to John, and I dare not think what the ramifications would be if we put the McCain ticket in the White House, leaving Sarah Palin to take over in case of an emergency. She doesn't put her own children first when it comes to siezing political power, how can we expect her to do the same for the country? Picking fights with the Obama campaign over trivial points is a waste of time. Mr McCain, this strategy is  NOT the best way to convince America that you would bring about the end of partisan politics, or improve the world's view of us. If you go after Medvedev or Putin like you have attacked and implicated Senator Obama, he will not take it with class as Mr. Obama has, and our country will pay. There is a difference between military strategy and foreign policy. Senator Obama proposes diplomacy, negotiation, talks, and thought. (God forbid we have a President that is considerate and thoughtful, rather than impulsive and rash!) Please, let's not waste time debating the definition of precondition; it is futile. Barack had the respect and the class to dismiss talk of Ms. Palin's family, it would be refreshing to see the McCain campaign consider the lies they are encouraging. Teaching Kindergardeners about sex? Seriously? Sarah Palin (NRA member and Oil lover and the face of Pro-Life) is a maverick? How can you be a maverick and "energize the base" like never before. John McCain, you used to be a maverick. The Republican party was none to pleased with you, but now you have resorted to the same tactics you used to denounce. It is shameful that you are capitalizing on Americans, with misleading television spots and untrue, irrelevant statements. For a real change, let's talk about someone who doesn't say he would rather win a war than an election, but then distract the country from the issues by selecting an unprepared and inexperienced running mate. Let's talk truth. Let's talk real issues. Let's talk country first. Let's talk cutting taxes for the people that need cuts, 95% of America, which is Obama's actual plan. Let's talk universal healthcare. Let's talk someone who actually believes in the shared American experience rather than differences. Let's talk someone who believes, and has for quite a while, that our economy is in trouble. Let's talk someone who actually foresaw the subprime mortgage crisis. Let's talk someone who doesn't have corporate lobbyists running his campaign. Let's talk supporting our troops but preventing them from loosing their lives unnecessarily. Let's talk someone who not only loves America, but someone who knows how to save this great nation with temperance and consideration. Let's talk Barack Obama. Let's talk this Friday, at the debate, and we will see who America should really listen to.