Driver Picks The Music…Observations on a life in Orange County, California

3D is Invading my Private Space

January 23, 2010 · Leave a Comment

So I’m walking toward the movie theater. It’s Saturday afternoon and my first free one in weeks. I’m alone (which is often best for movies because a pal always screws up my objective nature…or subjective nature as it goes,) and THAT GUY is standing there. You know the guy. The one with the binder that says FREE MOVIE SCREENING! I stare. I can’t help it. A free movie. That’s just up my alley. I don’t know why I get sucked in every single time. Yes I do. Because I love them…movies. And I’ll watch dreck just to be watching something.

But, back from the tangent, the guy is giving out passes for an animated movie. I love animated movies. Hey Toy Story is in my all-time top 20. Come on! Woody banging on Buzz’s buttons as it says “Buzz, Buzz, Buzz Lightyear to the rescue” we all laughed…I know you did. So I notice the flyer says 3D. 3D?! What? Why? Life is 3D buddy and in case you didn’t notice, we don’t seem to want to watch real life in the theater. We (I mean THEY here) want blue people for crying out loud!

And I’ve been seeing the tech posts recently begin hyping the 3D TV. I absolutely refuse to wear dorky glasses in my own living room to watch a film. If I wanted 3D, I’d watch a play! I know… not the same, but you get the idea. Look, I admit it. Avatar’s 3D was at least not incredibly intrusive most of the time, but it only made three, maybe five shots better or more impactful. So why all the fuss? I’m not sure Rosebud would have been all that much of shock in 3D. Jabba the Hut maybe. And, well the guys would have loved to see that bikini on Princess Leah in 3D, but I don’t want blood flying at me in 3D…even if Jackie Earle Haley is slinging it.

For the future….I’ll take better actors over 3D in a heartbeat. And you know what, I’ll cave for the free movie this time, but after that…well I’ll cave for the next free movie, but I’m not getting on the 3D boat. Not that Titanic…until it’s free Oakleys for everyone!

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Virtual Christmas

December 24, 2009 · 2 Comments

So I’m in a new job (finally!) with a big dog corporate office. That’s my name for it, but it has nothing do with  who they are or what they do. I’m just a cog in the machinery, but there’s a little gem to my working world. I sit in a cubicle aisle (yes cubicle) with five great people..some I used to work with elsewhere.

Now it’s the holiday season and the six-pack (our boss’s name for us) has fancied up our little cube aisle with fun and religiously indifferent decorations. We’ve refrained from reciting the nativity story and turned up a holiday carol only if Kermit the Frog was singing it. We’re all just happy to have jobs because all six of us had been laid off in our other jobs/lives last year or this year.  This means we’re happy, but the holidays are tinged with a whole lot of POOR going on.

Today; however, was a different animal. Today, Christmas Eve, one of our six, I’ll call her Sophie told us a story that actually brought a tear to my eye. I haven’t felt the heartwarming holiday season yet and thought it was a done deal with the big day, the 25th just around the corner, but no, here I was sniffing at the first telling…and again later when I heard it told to another. I’ll relate Sophie’s story of The Virtual Christmas.

Sophie, an older woman with an off/on working husband at retirement age (as if anybody could retire right now) is pretty much the bread winner in her house. Her house expanded by leaps and bounds this year. She took in a blind boarder, her son and his family (wife and three boys) moved in because of illness and her other son came home to roost on the only available spot, the couch, because the building market dried up in the Rockies (or somewhere east of here). Needless to say, Sophie’s supply of severance pay dried up quickly. Actually it dried up literally the day she started working at the big dog corporate office we’re in now. Christmas wasn’t going to be lean for Sophie, it was going to be a wisp of air.

Now Sophie, a grand woman of faith, prayed that she as the matriarch of the family would be able to find a way to spin the regularly scheduled speech to the grandkids of “you know Christmas is going to be lean this year” because it wasn’t going to be “lean” but just a feel of dental floss. Just then a grand idea popped into Sophie’s head. She thought and thought and prayed and decided it was just the thing to do.

Sophie gathered her family together and explained how Christmas would go this year. “I want you all to know that our holiday season, despite the cramped quarters, or maybe because of it, has been the most joyous to us so far.” The grandkids geared up for one of Grandma’s crazy plans. “If money were no object, I know I would have the most amazing gifts for all of you.” Little Jimmy rolled his eyes and thought to himself, sure I’d get that iTouch I wanted. “So that’s what our gift exchange is going to be this year. We’re having a Virtual Christmas.”

Daniel, father to Little Jimmy and the boys looked his mother in the eye. “Mom? Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” said Sophie. “People always say it’s the thought that counts when giving a gift, so that’s what we’re going to do. Everyone is going to think about what they would like to give to each other if money were no object.” Sophie pulled a set of hand-made velvet bags in green, gold, red and silver. She handed them out to everyone. “Our neighbor had some fabric leftover from the school play, so I made some gift bags. Your job is to decide on a gift for each member of the family. You have to draw, cut-out, print or represent that ‘virtual’ gift in some form and put it in a bag. Before the house breaks apart for the grandkids visit to Alma’s folks, we’re going to exchange our virtual gifts, just like we would with real gifts. Sure we’re a day early…the eve of Christmas Eve, but we’ll put on the fire, sip some cocoa and unwrap each one.”

Daniel’s boys sighed in unison “aww Grandma, ” and Daniel squinted his disapproval. The others were silent, but Sophie’s husband slowly stood and wrapped an arm around his wife. “I for one am going to think long and hard about what you naysayers deserve for our virtual Christmas.” And with that, the family meeting ended.

Sophie worried for a week about how her experiment would go. Would they just scribble something on a piece of paper? Would they cut out a comic from the funny paper? One thing Sophie knew for sure, her own gifts were treasures to her children and grandchildren so she decorated her slips of paper with glitter and love.

The day arrived for Virtual Christmas. A pile of velvet bags lay at the feet of the plastic tree that had seen five too many holidays and Sophie wrapped herself in a toasty robe and handed out mugs of cocoa to all and a bowl of popcorn to the boys who sat at their parents’ feet. Sophie’s grandson, little Jimmy stood up. “I’d like to give my gifts first.” He picked up a set of bags and handed each one delicately to its recipient. “Open yours, Dad.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows and pulled the bag open slowly. He reached inside and brought out a triangle of folded paper. “This is what I used to flick across the school room to Mrs. Lindley’s desk in the sixth grade.” Everyone chuckled as Daniel unfolded the paper. It was a printout of an internet photo. The photo was of a set of New England Patriots season tickets. Jimmy leaned into his father’s leg “If money were no object, I’d send you to see all the games, Dad.” Daniel’s face warmed and he mussed the young boy’s hair. “Thank you, son.” Sophie’s husband coughed “I’m not gonna wait around for you slowpokes,” as he opened his bag. Inside was a magazine cut out of a super sleek jet airplane. “Well now, I think I know where I’ll be flying this every weekend…to those Patriot games!”

Within minutes everyone was laughing and excited to see what Virtual gifts they had been given. Nothing was rushed, everyone talked about their gifts and some even made great impressions. Sophie’s husband gave Daniel a real estate printout of a small inn up in the mountains. “Dad, you know that’s my dream job.” “Well son, I think those small business loans are opening up. Maybe now’s the time to really look into it.” Daniel gave his boys a virtual tent and promised to take them camping in the spring, no matter what the job outlook was like.

Sophie sat back and prayed again. Thanking God for her gift…along with the five houses and two laptops she received virtually. Sophie thanked God for the time with her family and a way to truly enjoy Christmas.

“Mom, you’re the last giver” Daniel helped his mother out of her chair. Sophie gathered her bags from the tree and handed out each one, placing the bag delicately into big and tiny palms. “Daniel, I give you the gift of wealth. I know you can make your dreams come true with His help.” Daniel hugged his mother tightly. “Boys, you each get the gift of wisdom. It often comes too late in life and you’ll benefit from getting it early.” Jimmy scratched his head. “I thought money was no object.” Sophie looked into her grandsons eyes. “It wasn’t. You can get an education with money, but you can’t buy wisdom. It’s a special and rare gift.” “To my young son, for whom I know the couch is a lonely place, I give the gift of love. It will come to you in many forms.” “I’ve had it all night, Mom.” Sophie turned to her daughter-in-law “and to my only daughter, I give the precious gift of health.” She saw all eyes begin to tear up. She quickly handed her next bag to her husband. “Dear, you didn’t have to get me anything.” “I know, that’s why I’m re-gifting to you.” “Re-gifting?” Sophie kissed her husband on the cheek. “You get my heart. Again.” The family clapped and celebrated. Daniel spoke up “Mom, when we do this again next year… let’s use these bags again.” Sophie’s joy swelled. Next year! It really was the best Christmas yet.

When I heard the story today, I knew I had to put virtual pen to paper. That’s the Christmas I want. In fact, I think I want all my Christmases like that.

OH, and to the blind boarder,  Sophie gave the gift of family. Hers.

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Snobs are People Too~!

November 9, 2009 · 1 Comment

I’m an “Orange Countyian” — I know that’s probably not a word, but it’s what I am. There’s no denying it. And boy, have I tried to deny it.

I didn’t set out to love or hate Orange County. I didn’t think it was in my DNA. My dad went off to greener girlfriends when I was a kid and he lived in L.A. so I spent many an alternate weekend on the highways and byways (read 5 freeway) into the not so great, greater parts of Los Angeles.

I’ve seen the west side of this and the south side of that. My uncle had a factory in the garment district when I was a kid, so I spent a few Friday mornings wandering among the Mexican (now known as Latina) women sewing their little hearts out, smiling at the 7 year-old (with a Hispanic last name, so don’t berate me) abandoned in the warehouse and feeding me crackers from their opened plastic sleeve.

I remember the Covinas and the Hollywoods and a whole lot of 7-11s and Denny’s restaurants (what’s a single dad supposed to do, I guess), but it didn’t seem all that different from the Gemco or JC Penney at home. Fast forward lots of years and I still drive to L.A. for a movie at The Grove, lunch in the Farmers Market or a show at the Pantages. I thought of myself as a Southern Californian. To me that meant Los Angeles and Orange County, as if we were suburbia south because L.A. had too much business in its own county to actually house people.

Of course my skewed vision of So Cal was actually some kind of ghostly vision — a shimmering figment of my childhood imagination. I realized that in black bold print on yellow plastic today… with a directional arrow. I went to find myself a location shoot. Today’s possibilities were for Criminal Minds, Heroes and Lie to Me. I found lots of placards and eventually saw a bit of a scene from Heroes, but what I found far more easily was my own squinting eye at the downtown neighborhood I was in. L.A. is a pit. That’s it.

Look, I know how it sounds. Uptight snob visits the city and is shocked when icky stuff appears because people live in the city. It’s not that…exactly. I know L.A. has it’s nicer neighborhoods and that ones that some tend to avoid, but I like visiting cities. New York, Hong Kong, Chicago, and Rome — all of these are a kick to visit. Seattle and Vancouver, I could even see myself living there, so what happened in L.A.? I think South County Stepford has rotted my brain.

My expectations have gotten out of whack with the reality that is…and let’s be real, probably always has been Los Angeles. Parking. Today’s foray just sent me into a mind mush on the idea of paying for parking. I found what I was looking for, a location shoot (that’s were the yellow plastic signs come in) and then proceeded to hunt for parking. Now, downtown L.A. has tons of parking from what I saw, just not tons of parking for me. Slimy guys in tiny lots with huge prices and why can’t I just park over there in that nice large lot, oh no you can’t because only the regulars get to park there and now I’m fifteen blocks from where I want to be, and yes over here the street is only one-way and no you can just make right turns to end up at square one because there’s a hill and a freeway and streets that run into buildings and tunnels and WTF?

I recently went to a movie theater that is pretty new in North County (what I refer to as the sane non-Stepford part of the county where I live) and they have card machines to pay for parking. This concept is so foreign to those of us behind the Orange curtain that I find myself explaining the concept of “pre-pay” before you go to your car at every single foray to the theater. I don’t mind. It makes me feel like I’m a cultured city girl among the simpletons. Today I realized that I am a simpleton. I am a Stepford gal in Orange County. And no, you can’t tell by my shoes, still from JC Penney thank you very much, but by my squint. I didn’t bother to get out of the car in L.A. I drove slowly past the location shoot four, maybe five times (that was easy, they were a crowd at a hotel entrance with signs like they were protesters) and thought, eeww, why would I want to get out of my car here where the air is just a visible representation of air and the bums spend more time with their pets than the rich wives of Newport Beach (and those gems take the yips everywhere).

So off I went to my next location and got bored driving past cheesy stores hawking wedding bands and shoes (two for $20) and determined I was not going to stay. I hit the freeway and jaunted another ten miles to the land of Rose Parades and the last location I had note of. The parking was reserved, no trucks yet. By then it was mid-afternoon (I got a late start – unemployment will do that to you) and I found this was my third trek to Pasadena in four weeks. And I liked it. The streets are clean. There are lots of interesting shops, there’s parking (pay and free) and I drove both directions down a street when I turned around to park near a burger joint for my late lunch.

So why did I like Pasadena and not L.A.? Because, Pasadena is suburbia. My kind of suburbia. Close enough to the crazy busy city for the good stuff and far away enough to avoid fire engines every 10 minutes and the smell of stale cigar smoke and poverty in the air. Ahhh, well there’s the nail and didn’t I just miss it all day long.

My love for Los Angeles waned because I am now identifying with a much less cash-equipped group of residents…nay, inhabitants than I did before. Now that I can’t afford a trip to The Grove for a movie and some lunch at the Farmers Market, I don’t want to see them-the pretty people with average money. Nor do I want to see who I could afford to have lunch with. I shocked myself. I am a snob because of fear. And my fear (unending unemployment) makes me want to hold on to that Stepford suburban life I swore I hated not twelve months ago. I am an “Orange Countyian” darn it! So please God, let me find a job and stay that way…so I can love L.A. again.

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