Hot. That’s how my weekend was. Hot. The kind of heat that makes you want to curl up inside with a nice book and tall glass of something cold and icy. Or a good movie. We’ve had several days of heat alert here, because along with the heat, it’s humid. It’s the kind of heat and humidity that make it hard to breathe. So we stay inside and watch movies and read books.
We have a few favorites around here. My husband is currently enamored with “Let the Right One In.” When I say enamored I mean he’s watched it like a dozen times in the last 2-3 mos. The kids play-act a lot of the scenes now, and can recite them along with the movie. The MiniNess can do a creepy, spot-on imitation of the main character. And even I have come to love it. I wouldn’t watch it at first, thinking it was a horror movie, but it’s not, it’s a tragedy. I expected gore, but there was none. I braced for scary music and instead got sad stuff. I steeled myself for the shocking sudden in-your-face scare scenes and never got any. It’s a sad tale about a kid who just happens to be a vampire who is trying to survive in a world it doesn’t understand, who was a victim of circumstances it never wanted. And who weeps when it has to feed. Watch it, I dare you. It’s a Swedish film but it’s dubbed in English. “I’m 12 … but I’ve been 12 for a long time.” I double dog dare you.
We’re also in love with Kung Fu Panda. Master Oogway has us all enthralled and we’ll often walk around reciting his lines. No wiser turtle ever lived. “One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it.” Po, the panda is also beloved here. “I’m not a big fat panda. I’m THE big fat panda.” “Skadoosh!” I am especially fond of Po’s father, Mr Ping, who likes to say, “We are noodle folk, broth runs through our veins!” Can you say “noodle folk” 10 times without cracking up? Betcha can’t! “There is no special ingredient – To make something special you just have to believe it’s special.” It’s not just a “kid’s movie.” It’s about trying to do your best, believing in yourself, trust, and loyalty. And the animation is stunning.
And I started going through my husband’s story Sharkey again. I still cry when I read it, just like I did the first time, because I feel like I lost someone I dearly loved. Sharkey is the father/grandfather/uncle we all wish we had, I think. I bet if you read it, you’d love him too. There are a handful of chapters, but I’m pretty sure Darc is thinking of working on some more soon. *fingers crossed*
You couldn’t pass the harbor when the ships came in and not see Sharkey. Or, more to the point, hear Sharkey. He tried to be mindful of women and children with his language, but Sharkey was a sailor through and through. And his name was a familiar one when I grew up. Visitors came into Oliver’s wide-eyed and shaken asking who that man on the boat was yelling and screaming and laughing, and Alyssa or Joan, or their mom Bev, and now Joan’s daughter Maris, would just smile at them and say, “Oh, that’s just Sharkey — don’t mind him.”
Yeah, don’t mind him. He doesn’t bite. Much.
He was everyone’s favorite uncle, a kindly loving seaman with Thor’s hammer for a voice and the sea for his eyes. That was Sharkey … it was like the sea came alive and walked among us for a while.
So what do you do for those lazy weekend days when it’s too hot to do anything?