Deadwood
AdventureMan and I are in the midst of a DVD-watching-marathon. Our son packaged up three entire seasons of the HBO show Deadwood, and we are in the middle of season two, now. I had seen occasional episodes now and then on AmericaPlus, here in Kuwait, but what we see here in Kuwait is heavily censored. I made the mistake of watching one episode with my son when I was back in Florida last summer.
Everything was OK (you get de-sensitized to the language after a while) until one very graphic sex scene which sort of happened before we knew it was going to happen. Believe me, there is nothing LESS sexy than watching a graphic sex scene in the same room as your own son. He said it works the same way being in the same room watching with your mother! (no kidding). I never watched another episode with him; couldn’t take that chance, it was just too awful for words.
But watching with AdventureMan, now that is something else entirely.
One of the things I love about the HBO series is that you find the same people appearing as totally different characters in different series, and you start kind of looking for them. For example, Charlie Utter in Deadwood, was also the California drug dealer in John from Cincinnati. Kristin Scott Bell (who will always be Veronica Mars to me) shows up in Deadwood as a young woman with a con game. When she loses, she loses big. Again, this series is both graphic and gruesome, not something to watch with your parents or your children.
(Hard to believe, but that is Kristin Bell as Flora)
Deadwood is the story of life in the days of the California gold rush. In the very first episode, we see how basic and crude and violent life can be without any rule-of-law. From the very beginning, might makes right, the strong take what they want, and the weak suffer, are exploited, die or are killed.
In succeeding episodes, we watch power struggles, and also the inward creeping of small signs of civilization . . . and the strong men have to share a little of their power, the tiniest threads of government begin to creep in. That is what keeps this show alive for me, and why I watch, in spite of the violence and incredibly vulgar language. It is a society in transition, from lawlessness to civilization. Those who prosper under lawlessness have to learn new ways of coping as rule-of-law creeps in.
There is one episode about plague, how it creeps into the community, and it seems to be to be an allegory for how rule-or-law creeps in, first the tiny threads, and slowly those threads weave themselves into the texture of daily life. The town bullies don’t like it, but as men who have survived – they adapt or they have to move on. We are held captivated by this series, and fascinated at how this crude society is transitioning and transforming into something else entirely.
I have two favorite characters, Calamity Jane and the Doctor. Calamity Jane has lived a tough life, had a tough beginning, and – so far – keeps herself pickled in liquor to bear her daily life, especially after Wild Bill dies. She dresses in men’s clothes, swears worse than many of the men, and at the same time . . . there is something insightful and whimsical in her character.
The Doc is a straight talking character, doing his best to patch people up and keep them alive under the very worst circumstances. He treats the town whores, treats the plague victims, treats the town leaders – he is it, he is the only source of medical services in the town. He is practical, and tough, and compassionate.
If you get a chance to watch Deadwood, it will hold your attention – there has not been a boring episode so far. Just don’t watch with your parents or your children!
A Matter of Centimeters
If it had happened today, with the wet, slippery streets, it could have been a totally different story. As it was, it happened yesterday, while the streets were still dry, thanks be to God.
On my way home from grocery shopping, there was this kid who cut in front of me, but he isn’t just driving, he is also on his phone (left hand) and talking with a friend, and gesturing (right hand) and his car isn’t staying in the lane. In fact, he isn’t paying attention to his driving at all, too much going on in his life I guess.
Traffic slows, the kid drifts left and into the left lane and that car, who was passing, honks. The kid gets embarrassed, or shook, I don’t know what, speeds up and cuts in front of the honking car, and cuts back in front of the car in front of him (also in front of me.)
At the same exact time, a bus pulls over from the right into the left lane, and the car in front of the kid slams on it’s breaks, we all slam on our breaks and I am also watching that land rover behind me coming up fast and praying he also slams on his breaks. In the end, there are six cars stopped within two seconds, centimeters apart – and not a single crash.
Thanks be to God. And thanks be to God we are not carrying guns in this country.
Fresh Start
I always get a burst of energy between Christmas and New Year’s. Truly, for me, new hope has come into the world. It doesn’t have to be rational, it’s just the way it is for me. I get all kinds of old messes cleaned up, I sort, I organize, I throw out or I hem/mend/ cut down to make something useful once again.
It made the dark months of winter pass more quickly in Seattle and in Germany, where many days go from black to dark grey and then back to black again. Here in Kuwait, with all the sunshine, it is just so much easier. Every day dawns in blues and pinks – how can life be bad when a day starts so beautifully?
There is one sharp sword hanging over me – taxes. *gnashing of teeth* I am pretty good about keeping receipts all in one place all year, but taxes for xpats can be complicated, and our tax guy sends a worksheet – like 14 pages – for us to fill out every year. It really isn’t that hard, but I dread it.
Over a year ago, the US government changed the way expats are taxed. Even worse, they snuck it in as an amendment, I think to a military appropriations or budget bill, and no one was aware of the implications until it was a done-deal. It is a nightmare. In one year, we went from qualifying for refunds to owing a burdensome debt of taxes. Aaarrgh.
I have a list of projects I want to do this year, some challenging, some just fun. Some projects left over from previous years I want to get done once and for all. I see 2008 as a great luxury, all those days, an entire year, stretching out before me in which I can get these things done. Woooo Hooooooo!
Pathetic and Divorce
When I saw this cartoon in the New Yorker, I laughed out loud. I have a friend whose husband is leaving her. No, that is not a laughing matter. He wants to be young again, he seeks (to no avail) younger girlfriends, and she has discovered he has a page on MySpace where he tries to make himself younger and cooler than he really is.
He is about to be wifeless, desperate to regain his lost youth, and pathetically eager to attract young women who really prefer hot young men. The “EEEEEEWWWWWWWWW Factor” is just too horrendous to contemplate.
He also has two teen aged sons. I can’t imagine how they must feel when they see Dad is leaving Mom, and has his own MySpace page.
Ya gotta love the The New Yorker.
Kuwait Camels
When we used to drive around Qatar, we would see camels out roaming everywhere. I imagine it used to be that way in Kuwait, too, until the Gulf War, when the retreating Iraqis seeded the deserts with explosive devices. Even now, every month a shepherd or two loses a limb to an unexploded piece of ordnance in the desert. We don’t just jump in the car and go out exploring here – sadly, it’s not safe, or it’s only safe when you are with people who know where it is safe and where it isn’t. We have friends who tell us, with a sigh, about the beautiful places they would go to see the wildflowers, but no more.
Now and then we will see a camel in a large, empty nearby plot of land, under the sparse trees, sometimes a mother with a baby. Most of the time, I only see camels when I go to shop at the Sultan Center in Al Kout. There is also a very large fresh vegetable, chicken/egg, meat and fish market there, and when I see these unsuspecting and unconcerned camels in the back of a truck, I have a bad feeling that they are destined for the meat market.
The Big Fight
AdventureMan and I had a big fight last night; I made it worse because I wouldn’t fight. It only made him angrier that I laughed and walked away.
Too much information? Sometimes, most of the time, a fight isn’t about what it seems to be about. When you have been married a LOOOONNNNGGGG time, you learn, thanks be to God.
AdventureMan is jet lagging, and working too hard. He takes all his responsibilities so seriously. He needed to go to sleep. And that is exactly what he did. Right after dinner, he fell asleep. The Qatteri Cat (he told me this morning) knew something was up and took two of his babies in to AdventureMan to make things better.
We were both up early this morning, laughing. He came up with a wonderful idea for date-night tonight, one of my favorite restaurants, and then . . . (if we can stay awake) we are going to watch this:
I know ya’ll have seen it, but we haven’t, and it just came out on DVD last week in the US.
Stop Honor Killings.com
I used to send out e-mails to close friends about my adventures travelling and living in “exotic” places. When you live your entire life in one place, the smallest things that may seem trivial to you are interesting and different to those who have never been to your country. I would get letters back saying “you don’t know me, you don’t even know the person who shared your e-mail with me, but (that person’s) former wife is related to one of the people you sent the e-mail to . .”
If someone makes an interesting comment on a blog I follow, sometimes I follow that comment, which I did today. On the blog of a person I don’t follow, from a comment from another blogger I don’t follow, I found this fascinating website:
Stop Honor Killings.com
Here is what I would describe as their mission statement:
INTERNATIONAL: International Campaign Against Honour Killings
Posted by Ginger on Wednesday, September 05, 2007 (12:56:46) (187 reads)
Over 5000 women and girls are killed every year by family members in so-called ‘honour killings’, according to the UN. These crimes occur where cultures believe that a woman’s unsanctioned sexual behaviour brings such shame on the family that any female accused or suspected must be murdered. Reasons for these murders can be as trivial as talking to a man, or as innocent as suffering rape.
I’ve lived in countries where honor killings happened, and we knew about it. It would be in the paper. We saw it in Jordan, in particular, where there is now a huge effort to put an end to the killings, and in Qatar, where it was never in the paper, but the kids would tell their teachers about it, and word travels fast in a small country.
I never hear a word about honor killings in Kuwait.
Is that because there aren’t any?
Dharfur: Cat in Charge of Protecting the Mice
Today on an interview on BBC, I heard the UN Secretary General saying that the man appointed to be the Minister for Humanitarian Affairs had been responsible for co-ordinating and authorizing many of the Janjaweed attacks on Dharful villages. It’s the kind of thing that is so stunningly outrageous that sometimes I can barely wrap my mind around it.
I found an article on BBC News: Africa in which it says the following:
ICC prosecutor Luis Moreno-Ocampo said he had strong evidence that the Sudanese Minister for Humanitarian Affairs Ahmad Harun and the leader of the pro-government Janjaweed militia, Ali Kuchayb, were involved in attacks on civilians in Darfur.
The leadership of the Sudan pretends to be co-operating, pretends to be looking for solutions and working with the United Nations, and does exactly what it pleases, which is to work toward accomplishing the extermination of the people of Dharfur.
Books on my To Do List
You’ve seen the books stacked next to my bed. I read constantly, but the stacks never seem to diminish. Maybe because I have an addiction – I buy books faster than I can read them.
Here are some of the new acquisitions to my “read me” stacks:
They all look so good, I don’t know where to start.
Happy Birthday, Law and Order Man
Thrills change as life goes on. We had a big thrill this week. We got a call from our son, a felony prosecutor, and we could tell from the second we answered the phone that he was happy, more than happy. You don’t hear this kind of happy all that often – it’s exaltation. It’s the call when he met “the ONE,” the look on his face when he graduated from law school, the sound of his voice when he snagged the exact job he wanted – prosecutor – in his field, his joy on the day he was married, and now, putting a bad guy away.
He just won a major case. You would think that this is a common occurrence, but it isn’t necessarily. The police have to gather the right evidence, the chain of custody has to be flawless, your witnesses have to be strong . . . one time, for example, his prime witness against the accused got on the stand and said SHE did it, not the gal she was supposed to be testifying against. She changed her story. Our son thinks they may have been watching Law and Order, or something, and figured out how to screw with the court.
This time, though, he had a major win, and put a bad man away for a long time. Every now and then, you get that exhilarated feeling that you are doing exactly what you are created to do – and we could hear it in his voice.
Thanks be to God. As parents, all you want is for your children to find their happiness, to find the purpose for which they were created, to find a good mate/partner to walk through life with. We don’t wish our children a life without struggles – struggles help you become who you are meant to be. Struggles are normal. Oh, how we dance with joy when you struggle and you prevail. We are dancing for joy for you, son.
Happy Birthday, dear son. We wish you a year full of wonderful new experiences.
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