Movie Review - The Butterfly Effect

The Plot - It isn’t the blackouts that worry Evan’s mother, but a fear that he may share the same illness that has kept his father institutionalized since Evan’s birth. After an incident at school a specialist recommends Evan keep a daily journal of his activities. Years pass and whenever Evan experiences something traumatic he blacks out. Eventually his mother moves him away from his childhood companions, too late to save any of them from the horrors they’ve shared.

Seemingly together in his new life, a college-age Evan is caught up in the study of human memory. A brilliant student, he is the talk of the department and more importantly he’s been blackout free for seven years. That is until Evan takes a moment to read one of his old journals. As he reads about one of the more traumatic moments in his life the room shakes and suddenly he finds himself reliving the exact instant where he once blacked out. Upon further investigation Evan discovers he has the ability to travel back through time and alter the history of those around him. The only question is can he alter things for the better?

The Review - I read a lot of bad press about The Butterfly Effect before seeing it last night. I really was more interested in the storyline than Ashton Kutcher’s thespian skills which helped tone down my expectations. Can Ashton Kutcher act? I can’t say his performance was so cardboard that it distracted from the film. Is the movie plausible? The story moves along at a good clip and requires a lot of faith from the viewing audience. As a strict sci-fi tale you could poke holes in the physics of it all, but I was more intrigued by the tale. Unlike the happy-go-lucky feel of Back To The Future, Evan’s attempts to correct the traumas of his life and those around him only spins more chaos. I found myself thinking in terms of my own life and what would have been lost or gained if I had zigged instead of zagged. Perhaps it was the “What if?” aspect of the movie that kept me intrigued. Mind you the story is loosely held together, the acting is mediocre, but still I found the film entertaining. As expected, the film wraps itself up neatly, but not so Scooby that I wanted to puke.

Grade: B-/C+ (this is one of those love it or hate it films)

Take Your Cats On A Roadtrip

It seems Lauren is preparing to drive cross-country with her cats and having survived the experience myself I was inspired to share the following story.

The year was 1998. It was the middle of May and I had just put into motion my escape plan from Michigan. The Mayflower truck was already enroute to Phoenix and I was set to crash for the night at my parent’s place. I had traveled many times cross-country, but this would be the first time with cats in tow.

My morning started at 4am. First task give Bailey & Julia the Xanax prescribed by the local vet. My sister had made a similar cross-country trip to Seattle only a year before and she highly recommended this method for cat control in the vehicle. Pilled Bailey without a hitch. Julia was quite a different story. The first pill she just up and spit out. The second pill I held her mouth shut for a minute and after she clawed my hand she spit it out. I tried a third, fourth & final time each drawing more severe lacerations until I needed pills myself to ease MY pain. After 30 minutes I decided I could deal with a howling cat in my car.

With my beat up Mercury Tracer packed to the legal limit, I put the two cats in separate carriers in the back seat. I realized right away I was in for a long trip as after thirty minutes on the road neither cat had stopped caterwauling. I knew I would hear from Julia as she wasn’t medicated, but the surprise was Bailey. His drug induced stupor sounded like a small child drowning as his elongated yowl pierced my ears. Once I got on the highway I turned up my radio in an effort to drown out the cat noise.

After a while the chatter died down a little, but the cats would quickly start over whenever I pulled into a rest area. The vet had told me the cats would be less inclined to pee inside their carriers because of the confined space and I should encourage them to use a litterbox when making an extended stop. I tried this only once. I had just entered Ohio when I pulled into a welcome center. Knowing I couldn’t walk the cats I had placed a small litterbox in the front seat of my car. With the passenger door open I took Bailey out of his carrier and placed him in the box. He immediately laid out spread eagle style. Apparently in his doped up state he was unable to stand correctly. He was so freaked out from being in the car that I realized he probably wouldn’t use the box. It was quite a chore getting Bailey out of the litterbox back into his carrier. A 20lb. mass of fur covered in litter dust wasn’t any fun to handle especially when it was as limp as a wet pasta noodle.

Mid-afternoon I had the brilliant idea to let the cats out of the carriers INSIDE the car. My thought was if they were allowed to move around a bit maybe they wouldn’t be crying as much. It didn’t take long before they both crowded around my feet and Julia wedged herself behind the brake pedal. I pulled off at the next exit and spent OVER AN HOUR attempting to get the cats back into their carriers. Julia proved to be the kitty-contortionist as no matter how many of her feet I had in my hand they all managed to pop out just as I placed half her body in the carrier. I tried the head first method, the butt first method. I tried standing the carrier up and dropping her in. I was lucky that she was too scared to run anywhere, but that didn’t prevent her from ducking underneath my car. I had just finished with Julia when my attention turned to Bailey who I couldn’t find. I was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten out of the car while I was fussing with Big Mama Kitty and after a few moments I realized he was hiding underneath the driver’s seat. I reached under and tried to pull him out, but he was stuck. I pulled a few times before getting a better look at the situation. Turns out his head kept bumping the seat lever whenever I pulled. He let out an elongated yowl and his eyes rolled like a crack baby. Oh yeah, the Xanax was such a good idea. I finally managed to get Bailey unwedged from the seat and put him back in the carrier. That’s when the hornet flew inside my vehicle. Yeah.

Eventually I got back on the road and crossed my fingers in hopes that there wouldn’t be any kitty accidents in the car. 15 hours later I stopped at a roadside motel. It was 1am. The cats got to eat & pee and I planned on sleeping for several hours. The cats made sure that didn’t happen. At 4am I checked out. I passed on any further attempts to dope the cats as the pills only made Bailey’s cries more annoying. I was in Missouri when I stopped. I drove straight all the way to Arizona only stopping for food & gas along the way. I drove like a man on a mission, neither rain nor sleet nor steady inclines which nearly blew out my engine would prevent me from getting to my destination so I could get these screaming felines out of my car.

The only event that would qualify as a similar Olympic sport would be cat bathing.

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Monday Morning Blog

Type type type… HIGHLIGHT-DELETE. Type type type… BACKSPACE 3x, type.

These are the moments I dread the most. The ones where my brain is in overdrive and yet spitting out anything coherent seems next to impossible. I used to be very good at stream-of-consciousness-there-in-the-moment ramblings, but lately I have fallen short. Hold that thought.

Before I forget I would like to direct you to the website of Ryan “Hardcore” McGee. Recently I nominated him alongside Mr. Perry for Blogger of the Year, but that’s not the point. The point is even more recently Ryan put together a printed collection of his writing which is sure to astound and delight audiences. I’ve mentioned on many occasions the wash of green that comes over me when I read Ryan’s blog. My growing admiration/envy stems from the fact that a lot of what he writes about I can relate to and if my vocabulary graduated past the “See Spot Run” phase then perhaps I would create a similar connection with my readers. Because that’s what great writers do.

You can find out how to purchase his yet-to-be-titled book here. I highly recommend it because I get a percentage of each sale (just kidding). Unlike the infamous Tony Pierce who has daily readership in the thousands, Ryan’s blog hasn’t garnered the attention it deserves.

Friday Funies

Today’s Friday funnies brought to you by Mr. Helpful who gives us a peek into the private wedding between Britney & her highschool sweetie AND Ryan “Hardcore” McGee who never fails to deliver memorable snippits.

Kill Bill Got Bumped…

“…audiences will have to wait a little longer for the bloody conclusion to Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill.” Variety reports that Miramax has bumped “Vol. 2″ from Feb. 20 to April 16. No word on why it was moved.”

NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Uhm… yes, I feel secure…

Moving on from yesterday. Explain to me again how the nation’s security is so much better post 9-11? Paranoid yes, better MORE efficient? I don’t think so.

Just yesterday in Portland, Maine the airport had to be evacuated because airport screeners mistook a passenger’s flute for a bomb. Apparently the passenger was questioned about the flute then allowed to get on his plane without it. Meantime, the bomb squad had to come and investigate requiring 8 flights and 300 passengers to be evacuated.

I’m missing the part where the passenger didn’t adequately explain inside his bag was A FLUTE. Apparently he was a frequent flyer and while the article is very short I didn’t get any indication that his behavior was suspicious.

I’m reminded of Ben Stiller in Meet The Parents where he says “You mean I can’t say the word ’bomb’? Bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb!” and it gets him thrown off the plane.

I don’t want the government to make me FEEL secure, those efforts end up seeming pretty shallow. Let’s see some steps for security that are proactive not reactive.

Avid readers know I’m not a very good flyer as the last time I had items removed from my possession by an airport screener (a money clip, nail scissors & disposable razor) I kindly reminded him that I was completely capable of killing someone with my bare hands.

Friday funnies…

Ryan “Hardcore” McGee is going for the Most Humorous Blog title today.I don’t know which was funnier his assessment of Britney’s waning career or the fact that she makes Justin look like one smart guy. I chuckled at this comment, “Can we just accuse Nicole Ritchie of starting mad cow disease and be done with her?” He also ponders the question “Do strip clubs have gift certificates? If so, what would be the process to redeem them? I think about these things.”

In answer to that question, it’s called a VIP membership. Anyone makes it to Dallas and I’ll hook you up.

Speaking of Britney, looks like Rob got himself another exclusive interview. And Paul managed to get the picture.

Alrighty, I’m off to work now.

What would you do for love?

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside… oh wait, not my line. The power of love is a scary thing. It conjurs so many different emotional states it is not uncommon to see someone go from a state of bliss to insecure paranoia to jealous rage to joyous relief all in the same breath.

Or am I the only one who does that?

When it comes to relationships I have always approached things in a logical Vulcan manner. Every move is calculated, my pros & cons list is on hand and the 50% rule is generally in effect (If Happiness + Time > 50% then Double-Thumbs Up).

Trouble is planning, guidelines & sanity go out the window when you love somebody. Love is not meant to be rationalized. (This explains Carmen Electra’s time with Dennis Rodman, but is not an excuse for Michael Jackson’s sleeping habits) “Love is a battle, love is war, love IS the ultimate outlaw.”

I wonder, how do we even know we’re in love? Maybe true love has to be tested. Maybe it’s only by moving past the wild-monkey-sex, surviving the routine, enduring the inevitable fights & bickering that you appreciate and learn to understand love.

Love is acceptance. Love doesn’t have good days and bad days. Love isn’t a mood. Love is commitment without hesitation. Love is perfect in “the moment” but there is no perfect love.

Last night I was reminded of how powerful & exhausting love can be. I feel pretty lucky, but then Michelle would tell you I’m blessed….

Sites of the moment…

Links will have to do this afternoon folks, busy busy on the job today.

David Chin sent me a nice invitation to participate in his web project A Picture’s Worth. The stories and pictures are pretty incredible.

I’m still diggin’ Sean Johnson’s blog. His is definitely a site that warrants more comments people.
UPDATE 5:37PM - Go wish Sean Happy Birthday.

I want to hide a planet just like Lauren’s.

Must be a Monday.

Ever wake up in the middle of the night and immediately stub your toe getting out of bed?

Must be a Monday.

Ever take a whiz in the dark only to have the toilet seat slam down creating a resounding echo that is only muffled by you shouting “Geezus!” because you?ve now pissed on the toilet cover and the floor?

Must be a Monday.

Ever clean up your own pee at 3am?

Must be a Monday.

Ever decide there?s no point going back to bed because you smell like piss so you might as well take a shower and as you?ll be wide awake you might as well fix an early breakfast?

Must be a Monday.

Ever forget that drinking orange juice just after brushing your teeth is a bad idea?

Must be a Monday.

Ever pull up to the drive-through bank teller only to have your window refuse to open because it’s frozen shut?

Must be a Monday.

Ever wish you had just tied your wanker in a knot and stayed in bed?

Good morning loyal readers, join me as I recount the beginnings of my Monday. Not since I?ve lived in Detroit have I experienced weather that can change so dramatically in a matter of hours. All last week the temperature was in the 70?s and by Saturday I had turned on the air conditioning because the weather had become so warm & humid.

This morning the temperature was 25F°. I?m a cold weather person so I really didn?t take notice until I couldn?t open my car window at the bank teller. I couldn?t open my door either (as I was next to the building) so I had to drive around the building to get out of my car and use my driver?s license to unstick my window from the door panel. (TIP #357 for all you fair weather natives). Of course, by the time I pulled back up to the teller there was a line of cars thwarting my attempt to get to work on time.

Successful they were as the line at the bank teller was joined by the confusion that amassed once I left the bank. I say this because surely insanity is the only explanation for waiting three light changes to make my left turn when I was only five cars back from the stoplight. Riding that emotional wave like LSU?s defense car after car kept me from changing lanes or moving anywhere close to the posted speed limit of 55MPH once I was on the tollway. As I sat in traffic I had flashes of Office Space and said “No, I don?t want to be that guy.” unless of course I get the dating Jennifer Aniston perks.

Arriving at the office I stood in the elevator full of people waiting to get off on the 4th floor. I couldn?t help but begin mumbling incoherently as we stopped on the second floor, the third floor and then the 7th floor followed by the 12th floor.

It helps if you actually remember to push the button for your floor, but then it is a Monday…. *chuckle*

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