Pancakes with Abby

Last Sunday, I had pancakes with my favorite 8-year-old. Let’s call her “Abby.” Abby is very smart for her age and though I hate tossing the word around, I wouldn’t hesitate to describe her as precocious. Like any child her age, she’s got her obsessions. She loves mummies. The first time we met was when Abby’s mother and her mother’s boyfriend brought her to see a museum exhibit on Chinese mummies and I joined the three of them. I learned just as much from Abby as I did from the exhibit. She even has her own personal favorite Egyptologist, whose voice she recognized from the other room when he spoke on CNN during the riots there last January. She excels in this category of history, it’s definitely her strong suit, but just like everybody, she struggles in other areas. She is, after all, just a kid.

A few days before I visited with these friends I had read this article by Lisa Bloom: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-bloom/how-to-talk-to-little-gir_b_882510.html. In it, Bloom talks about the modern-day girl and ways to help promote their intellectual growth and focus less on physical appearance. “Teaching girls that their appearance is the first thing you notice tells them that looks are more important than anything. It sets them up for dieting at age 5 and foundation at age 11 and boob jobs at 17 and Botox at 23. As our cultural imperative for girls to be hot 24/7 has become the new normal, American women have become increasingly unhappy. What’s missing? A life of meaning, a life of ideas and reading books and being valued for our thoughts and accomplishments.”

Keeping this fresh in my mind, I re-assessed my interactions with Abby. How had I treated her during our one-day day camp this summer? Did we talk about boys or fashion or how cute I think she is? I think she’s an adorable young girl and will grow up to be a very good-looking woman, just like her mom. But that’s not what we did together. We built a puppet together and brainstormed over Chinese food about what kind of puppet show we’d put on for her mom when she got home. Abby is thoughtful and creative and yes, that dreaded word, precocious. But the reason I feel comfortable about using that word is because of this one little detail – while we were planning out our puppet show, getting everything ready for Violet the purple bunny rabbit’s big debut, Abby insisted that we play a book on CD to listen to. We could’ve played music or had a television on, but she wanted to hear the adventures of Pippi Longstockings in the background while we worked. And that to me was a very important indication of how bright Abby’s future will be, moreso than whether or not she’ll be pretty enough to find a boyfriend.

I’ve always tried to treat kids as adults, while at the same time treating myself like a big kid. I guess that’s why it’s easy for me to relate to them. I like cartoons and comic books and board games and my imagination is always running wild so I can keep up with their games pretty easily. So while I talk to them like adults, I also like to keep them thinking like kids. Innocent and inquisitive, children can have thoughts that we’ve long outgrown and can express them in interesting ways. Concepts and ideas that we’ve come to see as second nature can be confusing to them and it’s nice to see their tiny gears turning in their heads as they try to understand a new idea. Abby is this way, that spark in her eye when she learns and retains a new fact from the mummy documentaries she dives into full-force. And although she struggles with her homework sometimes, she would never take the easy way out and have someone do it for her. No matter what J. C. Penney might suggest.

I’m sure I’m not showing anyone anything new when it comes to this infamous shirt, sold for only a few scant hours online at jcpenney.com.

The thing that bothers me about this shirt is that, even though I don’t have a daughter of my own, I still know girls like Abby who are at the age where they might see this and think too hard about it one way or the other. They could see it and think, “That’s funny, and that’s right, I AM too pretty to do my homework!” Or they could see it and think, like I hope Abby would do, “Hey! I’m just as smart as my brother. Probably smarter!” I have two sisters, both of whom are smarter than me. My younger sister was high school valedictorian. I know all the lyrics to “The Weird Al Show” theme song. I’m not winning any Nobel Prizes any time soon. And as long as Abby stays thirsty to learn, she could very well be her school’s valedictorian one day.

So what did Abby and I talk about after pancakes? When we were done watching a National Geographic special about the Silver Pharaoh, I asked her about school, which was starting up again the following week. I asked her what grade she’d be in and what she was excited to learn about and never once questioned what she’d wear on the first day. Whatever she wears, I know she’ll do her homework on her own when she gets home, hopefully while making jokes, being silly and curious and, well … a kid.

Busgate 2011

On June 3rd, 2011, I was stuck on a bus. I collected the live-tweeting that followed so that we all may never forget.

Mom’s Text: Are you on the bus? / My Text: I am inside the bus. They wouldn’t let me ride on top : ( / Mom: I wish you were adopted.

So, the bus I’m on is stuck in-between some side streets, on a hill. I guess I should be live-tweeting this crap, right?

The bus was 1.25 hours late to the depot, and left 1/2 hour late because of traffic. So the driver decides to try some shortcuts.

Driver looks exactly like Bull from “Night Court,” and apparently he’s just as smart. (i.e. Dumb, in case you’ve never seen “Night Court”)

(I loved “Night Court,” by the way. Laroquette was amazing! Remember when he was the Phantom of the Court? Solid stuff! But, I digress.)

So, Bull here decides to drive up a side street, up a hill, and almost hits a white Mazda. Thank goodness Mazda’s brakes are so good!

If you don’t have a Mazda, you should think about getting one. I’m not getting sponsored by Mazda or anything, they’re just quality cars.

Bull almost runs a stop sign, the Mazda makes it through okay, and then Bull has trouble getting the bus up the hill. Real jerky motions.

(And I know a thing or two about jerky motions; I’m single! Ba dum bum!)

Stop. Go. Stop. Go. We finally get to the top of the hill. Well, the front end does. That’s when Bull figures out he’ll have to turn.

Uh-oh, it’s a bus, Bull. A big fucking bus. And that street is to small you can’t turn. So, we get stuck. On the hill.

We’re stopped sideways, splayed across two small side streets, when we should be on I-76, traffic or not. Ballsy shortcut, Bull!

He can’t maneuver well, so we’re stopped. People get off to smoke. Randall, a tall black man with a goatee, finds a bodega nearby.

Randall and Catherine, a middle-aged woman with a badunkadunk to die for, buy some boxes of popsicles for the three (3!) babies on the bus.

The babies have been surprisingly well-behaved. My faith in the healing power of popsicles has been renewed.

Bull makes some phone calls and Randall and his friend (I don’t know his name) decide to guide the bus down the hill backwards.

Should we take Green St. or Main St.? Bull isn’t sure, but a local elderly woman says “Take it to Green, honeychild!” Bull goes with Green.

The streets are narrow and we’re inching our way down them and haven’t hit any cars (yet). All the Mazdas are safe. God bless Mazda.

Randall almost lost his flip flop guiding the bus. He’s doing this in flip flops, people! He’s a true American hero.

Catherine asked me if I wanted a popsicle. I said ok, but I was one of the last ones asked so there’s only lemon left. No thanks, Catherine.

Now Catherine thinks I’m a popsicle elitist. Whatever, Catherine. I just prefer blue raspberry or cherry.

Bull does a really violent jerk backwards and the engine cuts out. One of the babies finally cries. From somewhere in the rear, a man yells:

“Get this bus on the fucking road. This bus ain’t gonna have no transmission when you (Bull) is done!”

Bull responds, “You don’t trust me? Maybe I’m crazy.” The engine comes back on and he rethinks his strategy silently.

Man in rear: “We should all get half our money back for this fucking bus ride!” I tell him he should be our class action lawsuit liaison.

We still haven’t made it to Green St., or Main St. for that matter. We’re on a cobblestone road across from a cemetery. Convenient.

Bull gets us onto a main road but is now lost. He laughs maniacally. Randall is a trooper, helping a lot! Catherine calms the baby to sleep.

Local woman gives us directions through downtown Manayunk. “Good luck, honeychild!” she says. Boy will we need it!

No one has asked the man in the rear to stop cussing, even though we have 3 babies on board. I’d say something, but eh, fuck it, ya know?

Some want us to stop at a McDonald’s drive-thru since we’re now 1.5 hours behind schedule. I’d rather just get there. Or at least Wendy’s.

We made it to the main road, everyone! There’s a sign for I-76! We all slap Randall and his friend on the back as they come down the aisle.

Everyone loves Randall and friend right now! Bull, not so much.

Man in rear: “I know you gonna drive in the fast lane now!” Bull: Oh, I will. Ha ha ha ha. I will.

Currently cruising along I-76 behind schedule but all alive and okay. Some of us got popsicles, even! Randall’s totally gettin’ laid tonight

People pull out cell phones and call their loved ones. I call my mom. She says “Imagine how fun that would’ve been from the roof, smartass.”

And this concludes my bus fiasco of 2011. Back on the real highway, no traffic in sight. Guess we avoided it after all, Bull. Good job!

Sorry for flooding your TLs, guys. Hope you enjoyed reading. If you have any questions for Catherine, I’ll ask her. Randall’s sleeping. Shh.

.@teamblock: How are the babies? // Babies are all good. One dropped his popsicle when the engine cut out, but he got over it.

Michael Keaton Monday

Last Monday, I declared my intention to make Mondays “Michael Keaton Monday” on Twitter, or to use the hashtag system, #MKM. I realize this may appear humorous to some of you, that perhaps it’s just @WritingWilkie being silly, but I only have the purest of intentions with this purposed trend. Allow me to explain (Because, hey, it’s my blog and you don’t have a choice).

 

I’ve been a big fan of Mr. Keaton since seeing him as the dark knight in 1989’s Batman, one of the first films I recall seeing in theatres. (The VERY first movie I remember seeing in theatres was Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and then retelling the story to my family from a barstool as they fed me pepperoni slices. And believe you me, if Rick Moranis ever joins Twitter, I’ll be starting “Rick Moranis Tuesday,” #RMT) I appreciated Batman and the Keaton-starring sequel Batman Returns growing up, as well as other Michael Keaton characters such as Beetlejuice and the grossly under-appreciated Johnny Dangerously. I learned plenty of things from Mr. Keaton’s repertoire, both in comedy and in real-life techniques (You can make grilled cheese with an iron? Genius!), but it was his portrayal of Bob Jones in My Life that taught me about the power of film.

 

I first saw My Life on basic cable when I was too young to understand everything that was happening, thinking from the title that it had something to do with Billy Joel, whom I love. I rewatched it a few years ago, grown up and comprehending everything for the first time. I am still blown away by every step of the journey Bob takes. If there is one movie Michael Keaton is most proud of, I sincerely hope it’s this one, because he deserves every word of praise he receives for it. When I started working on my first novel, about the relationship between a dying father and his son, it was this film in the back of my mind motivating me to make it better. If you’ve never seen My Life, I cannot recommend it highly enough. It’s right up there with Big Fish on my list of favorites, probably just ahead of it, and these are the only two movies I’ve seen repeatedly that I will never be able to watch without shedding a few tears.

 

Maybe I’m just coming off as a kiss-ass, but I truly mean it when I say that Mr. Keaton is one of my all-time favorite actors and I’m excited as hell that he’s on Twitter now. I can only hope that one day he’ll look through my tweets and find me amusing in some way, and would be pumped as fuck if he even for a second considered following me. So is it funny to dedicate one day of the week to him? Maybe. But I mean it as the nicest compliment I can possibly think of.

 

And Mr. Keaton, if you ever do read this, thank you for being in some of my favorite movies, and being a badass dude.

Green with Envy of the Fuzzy Pack

Anyone who knows me well knows that I’m a huge Muppets fan. Even some people who don’t know me well at all know that. And with two teaser trailers for the next Muppet movie being released in one week, I thought it might be a good time to broadcast some opinions I have about the whole ordeal, thus far.

First, a little bit of backstory: It’s been about three years since talks began on this film, which will be titled simply The Muppets. Jason Segel worked with the Jim Henson Company on building the puppets used for the end of a film he wrote and starred in, Forgetting Sarah Marshall in 2008. Once his foot was in the door with this creative team he expressed his love for the original Muppet Show gang and how he had an idea for a movie that could return them to the spotlight after being in the background of pop culture for so many years. Aside from a cameo appearance in the movie Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, Kermit the Frog hasn’t been seen on the big screen since 1999’s uneven Muppets from Space, which many people agree (me definitely included) was barely worth making. Since then, there’s been no Muppet television show or movie, and the only thing filling the Muppet void has been YouTube videos like their now-infamous cover of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Segel convinced Disney (who owns the Muppet name and classic characters) to jump on board, and everything started taking a real shape.

Segel re-teamed with his Forgetting Sarah Marshall co-writer, Nicholas Stoller, and penned what people who have read it have described as a terrific way to reintroduce children of all ages to the Muppets and aims to recapture what made them great in the first place. Which is great, because buying Muppet DVDs for all my friends’ kids has gotten expensive. The last two critical pieces to fall into place were the decisions to go with director James Bobin and music supervisor Brent McKenzie. McKenzie is one-half of the comedy-folk duo Flight of the Conchords, who make some of the funniest, catchy songs I’ve ever heard, and their short-lived TV show was hilarious. And probably not incidentally, James Bobin directed the majority of episodes of The Flight of the Conchords, so once this all fell into place, my faith in the project increased tenfold.

Now, is this the right team for the job? Let’s consider that James Bobin knows even obscure Muppets, like the Phantom of the Muppet Show, Uncle Deadly. And while I’ve heard a few people complain that Segel will do the Muppets an injustice, that his humor is too adult-oriented and won’t translate well to these characters, let me point out that the Muppets were never intended to be a kiddie act; they were supposed to be all-ages from the beginning. Plus, I highly doubt we’ll be seeing any full-frontal shots of Segel in this outing. But if you want the most convincing argument that he’s a good fit, consider this: At one of the first table readings for The Muppets (And no, I’m not a fan of the title. It’s confusing and too simplistic all at once.), the puppets were brought out and Segel had to stop the reading. The reason? He was crying. He was so moved by being in the same room as Kermit the Frog that he was brought to tears. That cemented in my mind that he was the right man for the job.

So months and months pass, and there have been a few (VERY few, WAY TOO few) publicity photos released, and some behind-the-scenes shots revealed, but the big ticket item came last Friday, when before the newest Pirates of the Caribbean movie, a trailer for a new romantic comedy from Disney premiered. Here it is, Green with Envy:

So, a fake-out that, thanks to press releases, a lot of people already knew was coming, but exciting nonetheless! I liked this tactic; I think it plays out extremely well, and most importantly, it’s funny. To me, it feels like a trailer for the Muppets, even when it’s not a trailer for the Muppets. (Anyone follow that logic?) And there’s a lot to interpret and analyze. (I won’t break it down much myself, but two great fan sites already have. See: http://www.toughpigs.com/greenwithenvy/ and http://themuppetmindset.blogspot.com/2011/05/breaking-down-green-with-envy-trailer.html) The Muppets themselves don’t show up until about halfway through the trailer, and since this is a teaser, that means that out of a 1 minute, 32 second trailer, we only see about 41 seconds of Muppets. But that’s the point of a teaser trailer: to tease you. And in those 41 seconds, there is so much alluded to!

Although I contemplated going to theatres just to see this trailer (I’m not a Pirates fan, so I had no interest in seeing the film.), I waited patiently for it to be uploaded on Monday. And once it was up, I immediately watched it on my phone. And then again. And then raced to my laptop to watch it a few dozen more times. I was instantly in love.

And then, the nigh-impossible happened: Just three short days later, there was a trailer for this, The Fuzzy Pack.

(For more analysis fun: http://www.toughpigs.com/fuzzy-pack-disney-has-a-plan/)

In one short week, we went from seeing behind-the-scenes photos to TWO trailers. Now, the second one doesn’t offer much in the way in new snippets, but it does feature two of the many, many cameos that will take place throughout this film (For those who can’t recall their names, that’s Wanda Sykes and Danny “Machete Don’t Text” Trejo). But I still got chills when I saw those opening images.

The plot of the story, for those wondering, is that the Muppets have disbanded and scattered across the country during various new things. Jason Segel plays Gary, Amy Adams plays his girlfriend Mary, and the little brown guy no one knows yet is Walter, Gary’s roommate who loves the Muppets and relates to them for reasons he can’t explain (Doesn’t he know he’s fulfilling my lifelong dream? He IS a Muppet). So they travel the country to reunite the group and save the theatre where The Muppet Show and all their movies were filmed from being torn down for its hidden oil reserves underneath by Chris (Lt. Dan) Cooper’s character, brilliantly-named Tex Richman. So seeing these flashes of what the theatre looks like after years of neglect gave me chills. I’ve gotta say, seeing this made me shiver with antici … pation.

When I was a kid, the biggest thing to come out in my lifetime was Star Wars, Episode 1. And when that teaser trailer hit the theatres and subsequently the internet, I watched it pretty much every day, speculating what the story behind all these quick flashes of images and snippets of dialogue would be. I remember watching it with my dad, who had seen the original Star Wars in theatres and had been waiting even longer than my whole life to see this story that had been talked about for years. Looking back now, I can’t remember exactly where my level of excitement sat when I first saw that trailer. But I can almost guarantee it’s nothing compared to my excitement for The Muppets.

I’ve been a fan of the Muppets pretty much since birth. I can’t imagine a time in my life that they weren’t a part of; whether it be through learning the alphabet from Sesame Street or learning what comedy was all about from reruns of The Muppet Show every afternoon on Nickelodeon. They’re ingrained in me somewhere and I’ve never “outgrown” them, and I can say with absolute confidence that I never will. So this has been pretty much the best week of my life so far. I’ve never been more excited for a movie in my life, and the smallest glimpse of what will transpire in it gives me goose bumps.

Would I have tried to be the first in line this Thanksgiving to see this movie without these trailers? You bet your ass I would have been! But seeing how much care Disney is taking in promoting this film, coupled with the fact that there is so much Muppety goodness to love in just under 3 minutes of footage, and so much that harkens back to what made me love the Muppets in the first place, this has me standing up and hollering for more (MORE!).

I love the Muppets. And I can’t wait for The Muppets. No matter what title they’ve come up with.

Why Write?

It started out as a tweet.

I take my writing very seriously nowadays, and being laid off, I treat writing as though it were my real job, clocking in every morning and spending hours at the cafe around the corner typing on my keyboard. So when I made the statement on Twitter, “I’d rather be an unemployed writer than an employed anything else,” I meant it. I still do. I’m doing exactly what I want to do at this point in my life. It just took me a while to figure out that this is what I wanted to do.

I was a business major in my undergraduate. I have a B.A. in entrepreneurship and may one day use it. But my graduate studies are in creative writing, something people find to be a complete 180 degree turn from business. It took me some real soul searching to get me to enroll in this program. I had always written in my spare time. I have a few screenplays under my belt and a few unpublished short stories that will most likely stay unpublished. The thing that really pushed me over the edge and take the plunge into getting my M.F.A. was my father’s death two years ago.

I don’t feel a need to have children any time soon. It’s not that I had a bad childhood myself, or that I have any kind of problem with kids. I just want to live the life I’ve always wanted to before I have to be responsible for others. My dad was always working menial management jobs, working hard to support us, and we became his life. I think his dreams got pushed aside, and I’d hate for that to happen to me. I don’t think he ever resented his kids for that, but I doubt it’s what he pictured when he was younger. I know it isn’t, actually. He wanted to be a game show host. The closest he ever came to that was when he quizzed me on spelling words.

When he died, I took a long, hard look at all the things he told me he never got to do, and I vowed to try to do all that I want to do in my lifetime, to be able to say to my kids (if I ever have any) that I am now raising them with no regrets. I had been working the same types of jobs he had been, and was so unhappy about it. So I enrolled in that January’s master’s writing program and am now at a place where I feel satisfied with my life. I’m not just writing anymore – I am a writer.