Water, Water, Everywhere...

I guess the universe decided that I needed a little water to go with all that sunshine I've been getting this month.

First, our hot water heater broke, flooding our (very full) basement with up to 5 inches of water in the deeper parts. Then, on a particularly rainy day, it started raining into our bedroom (which is on the 2nd floor, so no relation to the basement issue). Oh yeah, and our downstairs toilet started to leak.

The hot water heater broke when I was home between trips to CA and FL. Bob and I were going out for brunch (so, late morning) and to run errands, and as we were leaving I heard water running down in the basement. It sounded like the washing machine, and I was pretty surprised and impressed that Bob was already doing laundry that day. Fortunately, rather than just heading straight out the door, I mentioned it... and was none too happy to hear that he had not in fact started the washing machine. I rushed down there to find water spewing out of the top of the hot water heater (I later learned this was because the "core" blew, though I still don't really know what that means--other than that we were out one hot water heater, which needed to be replaced), and an ever-less-shallow lake covering the entire basement floor.

Doing my best to remain calm, I called Bob down there, and we started trying to figure out how to turn the water off. I thought I remembered the water main being on the far side of the basement, on the wall closest to the street. Not even thinking about the possibility of getting electrocuted, I trudged over there through increasingly deep water (at least I was in my rubber-soled Dansko clogs). Bob followed; while I looked for the water main, he headed straight for the hot water heater, and actually found the right spigot to turn off.

I knew there was a drain somewhere in the floor over where I was (from a previous flooding); I found it, but we couldn't get it open. Fortunately, a friend who is also a handyman was able to come over and open it up for us, and the water did drain out pretty quickly once that was the case. He's the one who brought up the possibility of electrocution. YIKES! But fortunately, we were all fine. If a little wet.

But then there was the matter of All That Stuff to deal with.

First, let me say that I am an incurable pack rat. Have been since I was a kid. I really have a hard time parting with things--not like those people on tv who save the wrapper that their Big Mac came in, or anything. But really, I know I save way too many things. I envy my sister, whose house is, I would venture to say, about 100% clutter-free. I don't know how she does it.

Anyway... all of that to say that my basement would have had way too much stuff in it anyway, but it had even more because last year when we renovated the attic for Bob I lost all of my storage space up there. I did get rid of some stuff, but a lot of it ended up in the basement. And then there were the many boxes of Bob's things that we hadn't found a place for that were also on the floor in there. Plus boxes of things from our wedding (extra embossed napkins, which I thought would be fun to save and break out at an anniversary party somewhere down the line, etc.). And of course, a TON of toys, because before that became our storage room it was George's playroom.

So began the task of going through all of it. Which was a task we were planning to undertake this winter anyway, to get the house more organized before the baby joins us and we start acquiring even more stuff. But this wasn't exactly how we were hoping to go about it! Also, I really couldn't start right away, because I was quite exhausted from my trip *and* I needed to save my energy for a 4-hour gig we had the next day. (The two-hour gig we had in the middle of the holidays just about did me in, because I wasn't well rested for it. It took me days to recover, and I didn't have days to recover from this one because George and I were going to be off on our next adventure very soon.) And Bob couldn't do it without me, because honestly, it was mostly my stuff. It was completely overwhelming.

But, you know what? As overwhelmed as I felt by the monumental task of sorting through all of it (and the short time frame), and by knowing that I was going to have to part with a lot of stuff (which, as I said, is not something I do very willingly), I actually didn't really feel all that upset. In fact, I was feeling, overall, blessed and even lucky.

Why? Because this all happened at the same time as the earthquake in Haiti.

I couldn't bring myself to watch much coverage of the devastation there, but you really couldn't help but be aware of it. Thinking of all of those people trapped in the rubble of their homes, or wandering around looking for loved ones, with no shelter and no food and in many cases in need of medical attention.... What, compared to that, were a few dozen boxes of wet stuff that I hadn't seemed to miss much in the last year anyway??? Not a whole heck of a lot. I really felt that, and it really gave me the strength to do what needed to be done.

So after I'd made it through and recovered from the gig (which went surprisingly well: a 4-hour gig when you're well rested is infinitely easier than a 2-hour gig when you're not, I found), Bob and I headed down there to attack the mess. It was a little bit brutal, I won't deny. One thing that stands out in particular that was tough to toss was the original trunk (it looked like a big, black suitcase) from my dad's very, very old Ford, which had a note with it that my dad had written about it sometime before he died. The fact that it was soaking wet might've been ok, but it had started to mold a little bit and the whole thing smelled bad. Bob thought that maybe we could salvage it, but I didn't see how, and besides, I was in a rare mode of being willing to get rid of things. So I saved the note, but out went the trunk. Along with a ton of clothes, books, papers, supplies, some stuffed animals, a beautiful (thick and quite large) area rug, and I don't-really-want-to-think-of-what-all-else. I actually felt really bad throwing clothes away, but they were soaking wet and would have needed to be cleaned before being donated, and I truly did not have it in me wash or dry clean them all. It might have been different if I hadn't been leaving town again the next day, or if I hadn't been pregnant and running on limited energy anyway (or if we hadn't also had to do about 8 loads of laundry because we had mounds of it down there that had been waiting to be either washed or folded), but there you have it--that's all I could handle.

We put bags and bags and boxes of things out by the side of the house, for Bob to haul to the curb on garbage day after I was long gone.

There are big spots of mold on the floor that will need to be dealt with, and that aren't getting any smaller, but they will just have to wait.

Focusing on the positive. I'm trying to retain that sense of feeling blessed and lucky for how wonderful my life really is overall.... We really do have so very much. And feeling good about finally having just a little bit less!

Livin' it up, retiree style

Did I mention that January was "travel month" for me? I know we just got back from California, but we took off again for Florida, where we are visiting my stepmom. I have to get all these family visits in before I'm too pregnant to travel (and before I have a baby in tow).... It really has nothing to do with following the sun or anything!

In any case, my stepmother (Laura) lives in central Florida, about an hour and a half north of Orlando, in a gigantic retirement community that I've concluded is kind of like college for old folks (minus all the academics, and plus some pretty fantastic facilities).

Yesterday Laura took us by golf cart all around town, which was quite the little adventure (especially considering it's a cart that seats two, and she and I plus George=3, plus baby in my belly=at least 3 1/2!)... George sat on my (disappearing) lap at first, and then I came up with the idea to have him stand up in the back and strap him in where the golf bag goes. That worked quite well for awhile, and he thought it was pretty fun!


There are golf-cart paths all over town, and golf-cart lanes (like bicycle lanes) on many of the main roads.... Here's a golf-cart bridge over the highway:

Our destination was one of the shopping/dining/congregating centers, on a lake. It looks like a charming, old (but very well kept up) village that you might find in the Florida Keys or maybe somewhere in the Caribbean. But of course it's all been built since like 1990. We went out to a gazebo at the end of the dock and had a lovely picnic lunch that Laura had made for us.

(Just out of the picture is a place with a long outdoor bar, where people were starting up with Happy Hour at about 3:00. Hey, no need to wait till 5 if no one's working!)

We window shopped until we got tired, and then piled back in the golf cart and headed home. After a nice nap, we headed out (in the car this time) to what turned out to be a great Mexican restaurant for some early bird specials. When dinner was over we strolled up the street to another "town square" area where there was live music and dancing. There were probably 200 people there--maybe more. What fun! There was a stand that was selling all kinds of drinks, and lots of people were partaking, but from what I could see everyone was having a great time either way.

When we first arrived, a whole bunch of people were doing a line dance, and I thought George might really enjoy giving it a try, so I asked him if he wanted to... he said that he did not. Undeterred, I offered him a bribe (we all know by now that I'm not above that! and besides, I just *knew* he'd love it if he gave it a try). 5$ if he went up there and went for it. He was clearly quite tempted, but the dance ended before he could decide. Fortunately, a few songs later he had another chance, and he ran right up there. (This is a kid who volunteered to do the hula at a Luau for 500 people in Hawaii a couple of years ago, so don't think I was pressuring him to do something that was totally out of character for him.) Well, this was probably the most complicated line dance I've *ever* seen. I watched intently the whole time and I never figured it out. Poor George was really floundering and at one point started to leave, but one of the old folks encouraged and convinced him to stay. (Plus, I figured, he wanted to stick it out to make sure he got his $5.) This other lady looked like she was kind of taking him under her wing, motioning to him at certain parts, which I thought was really sweet. Until I found out it wasn't true.

When the song ended, he stormed off the dance area and headed straight for the back of the crowd. Then he burst into tears and said that he was totally humiliated! Turns out the lady who was gesturing at him had scolded him, and told him that he was going to make her fall! How terrible do you think I felt?! At least the other person who had talked to him (when he tried to leave partway through) had in fact told him that he was doing great and he should stay, but when I tried to console George with that, he countered "That's just the type of thing that grownups say to kids to make them feel better. It wasn't true." Ok, so he was having trouble with the dance itself, but he really did look adorable out there! But yes, I felt just awful, and told George I'd double his bribe to $10 *plus tax*. That did actually get him to stop crying. It didn't make me feel much better, though! Humiliating my kid for my own amusement. NICE. (Come on, though; doesn't he look cute?!)

Anyway, apart from that incident(!), it was a great day, and today was lovely as well. Laura made us pancakes in the morning. Later, she had some things to do, so George and I drove the golf cart to the club to swim and lounge around in the sun. Glorious! And I didn't even feel out of place in my skirted (maternity) bathing suit! Tonight we had dinner at home (delicious lamb curry) followed by Lexicon, a really fun word/card game.

Tomorrow we're going to play shuffleboard, which we are very much looking forward to. Then another early bird dinner.

I could really, really get used to this life....

The next day, we're off to Disneyworld. If you think that the fact that we've just been to Disneyland dampens our excitement for that, you are incorrect. We can't wait!! I haven't been there in over 20 years and George has never been, and we are rarin' to go. We've already studied the map and figured out all the rides we want to hit. I'm sure I'll exhaust myself again, but oh well--I can sleep on the plane the next day. Or maybe when I get home. Or, actually, maybe when I retire.

Bittersweet

I had an amazing day with George today. But by the end of it, I found myself feeling a bit wistful....

The day started out in the desert, at my mom's. It was our last day there before heading back to Orange County, where we're staying overnight at my brother Drew's and then flying back home to the great white north.

We were considering stopping off at Disneyland's California Adventure, Disney's other theme park out here, on the way to my brother's, solely because we had free tickets to it. Which we got last week when we went to Disneyland with several members of my family (if you are CA residents, as they all are, you get a free ticket to the other theme park to be used on a separate day). A few Disneyland pics:

(Mom in front of the Matterhorn)

(George and Cousin Ryan, waiting for the Tiki Room)


(Drew, my mom, Ryan, and George on the Jungle Cruise)

Honestly, we've been to CA Adventure before and haven't been too impressed with it. But *free* tickets....

George is so sweet--even though he actually really wanted to go, at first he said he didn't. After a bit of probing, I figured out that he was just saying that because he didn't want me to tire myself out too much. He saw how exhausted I was after Disneyland last week, and he was worried about me! What a kid. Anyway... I just hated to let free tickets go to waste, so I told him we'd stop by for only a couple of hours.

As it turns out, we got such a late start leaving my mom's that we got there just about two hours before closing time, which was fine because a) there really aren't all that many rides there and b) this would ensure that I would not let myself get overly tired. And it's just as well, because when closing time rolled around I would have totally been up for staying longer, but I know that would have done me in. And with a cross-country trip tomorrow, and then band practice on Thursday, and then a gig on Friday, well, let's just say it worked out very well that I had no choice but to cut it short.

In any case, it was a marvelous couple of hours. It really was. He was such great company. We went on several rides, my favorite being Soaring over California, where you are taken on a simulated glider ride over various parts of California. A totally safe and non-bumpy thrill....

We had been to California Adventure I think twice before. Both times with free tickets. The first time was kind of a disappointment, because he was too little to go on half the rides. But I actually still have some very happy memories of that trip, especially of him playing in a couple of "play-place" type areas that they do have for younger kids. The second time was more recently, and he was big enough to go on the rides, but he was too scared for some of them. This time, he was really looking forward to going on some of the scarier rides, but the thing is, expectant mothers are barred from all of them. (At nearly 6 months I could pass for a woman with a paunch, but couldn't be less interested in a roller coaster at this point!) I told him that if he really wanted to we'd see if he could go by himself, or we'd try to find someone in line who would go with him. He was thinking that he might like to try that, but said that first he just wanted to go on rides with me, which I thought was awfully sweet (especially given how little time we had).

Turns out, that was just as well. The third ride we went on was a giant, swinging ferris wheel. The cars are on rollers, so they slide/swing back and forth quite dramatically (yet very smoothly) at certain points. This made us scream! Mostly with delight. But by the time we were coming around to the bottom, George asked if we could get off. (It was time to get off anyway.) After that, he was pretty much cured of all desire to go on the fast/scary/looping roller coasters.

(Roller coaster left and center; thrilling-enough ferris wheel to the right...)

We also had a lot of fun in the Toy Story 3-D shooting gallery. You ride around in a little cart, while wearing 3-D glasses, and you stop in front of screens with various scenes and targets on them (like you would see in a carnival shooting gallery). It keeps track of your score for you, so at the end you can compare how you did with the day's and month's high scores (we thought we did pretty well, until we saw that we had about 1/6th of the daily high scores. And about 10% of the month's high score....)

After the crazy ferris wheel George was ready for some old-fashioned playtime, and I was happy to sit down for a bit, so we went to one of the play areas. It's a gigantic (and I do mean gigantic) sort of wooden jungle gym/obstacle course. One of the earlier times when we were there I remember he got away from me and I was pretty freaked out because it was so big and there were so many people, but he's older now so I just turned him loose in there and told him to meet me back at the bench at the entrance when he was done. Funny--this time he was the one who got a little freaked out, because at a certain point he wanted to leave and couldn't find the exit, and was also afraid that I'd be worried about him! Sweet.

After that we wanted to get something for dinner, but the park was closing and the only food place that was still open was the ice cream place. I asked him if he wanted to wait and get something outside of the park, but he was starving, so I said what the heck, and we had ice cream for dinner. (It was delicious, if not-so-nutritious.)

We made one more stop on our way out, at one of the stores, where I got him some little cars, which he's been very into lately. He was so appreciative, and so non-greedy about it all--it made it really a pleasure to spend what was a pretty reasonable amount on him (some or even most of the stuff in those stores is way overpriced, but the little cars were fine).

While we were in the store, and the day was just about over, I was suddenly overcome with bittersweet emotion. It hit me that this was one of the last times *ever* that it would be just the two of us.

For perhaps even the majority of George's life it's been just the two of us. When he was very young, his father was living with us for a few years, but was not around a whole lot many/most days. After he and I split up (amicably, ftr), I was officially a single mother for several years. And even though I'm now married and have two stepchildren who spend plenty of time with us, George and I have a *lot* of time where it's just the two of us, since he's homeschooled and I work from home a lot. So we are accustomed to long stretches of time at home and about town together where it's just us. And beyond all of that daily time, because of our uniquely flexible schedules, for George's whole life he and I have taken regular trips out to California to see my family, pretty much every year.

But all of that is about to change, because soon there will be another little one in the mix. And this one will not have a parent in another home that he goes to sometimes. Of course, sometimes Bob will take Ace (did I mention that's the baby's in-utero nickname?) somewhere for a morning or an afternoon and George and I will have a little alone-time, but that will be the exception far more than the rule that it has been.

I asked George, in the store, how he felt about that and he actually said that he's excited about it. He added that he's particularly looking forward to reliving his childhood "from a different perspective". I hope he still feels that way after Ace is born. I think he will, actually.

In any case, big, big changes ahead for us.... So I'm extra glad we've had this time.

Highs, Lows, and Tortilla Soup

I am actually, finally, getting a little emotional with this pregnancy. Not a whole lot, mind you--just a bit. And you know what? It's not all bad.

I have been extremely level-headed throughout this whole thing thus far. Which sort of felt like it has been by choice. You see, I had a miscarriage about a year ago--actually a little sac that never developed a baby in there, so it did not feel as tragic as it might have. In fact, if I *had* to have a miscarriage, I'm sort of glad that that's the way it went, because there really wasn't the loss of a baby to mourn. And honestly even though I was quite sad about the whole thing, part of me was happy that I got to experience the joy of a positive pregnancy test (and a few happy days before it was clear something was wrong) with the man I'm married to and with whom I'm deeply in love.

Despite all of that, it was quite the roller coaster ride, in no small part because there was a slight chance that a baby would suddenly decide to show up in the sac. So, since I very much wanted to be pregnant, the doc suggested I wait at least a few weeks to see what would happen. Those were some difficult weeks emotionally, let me tell you. Knowing I was probably miscarrying, but taking daily progesterone to try to keep it from happening.... Trying not to get my hopes up but at the same time not at all being able to mourn and process the miscarriage.... It was not a journey for the faint of heart, let's just say.

So when I discovered that I was pregnant this time, I was definitely circumspect. I didn't let myself get excited, hardly at all. We also did not tell a single soul for quite some time, which isn't the sort of thing that's in my nature--I'm good at keeping a secret for a friend if/when it's called for, but I don't like to keep hidden from those close to me something that is so monumental to myself! And if I had miscarried again, I definitely would have shared that with my friends and family, but if it came to that I wanted to do it after the fact, and not take everyone on that roller coaster ride with me once again. Also, George had taken the news of the miscarriage extremely hard--when I told him, he collapsed into tears and said it was the worst day of his life. Needless to say I was eager to spare him that pain!

So Bob and I kept it to ourselves for quite some time, most of the first trimester. And somehow, keeping the news completely to ourselves kind of made it not seem entirely real, even though the morning sickness and exhaustion provided daily evidence to the contrary! The combination of not telling anyone and of trying to be glad without getting my hopes up too much (I handled the first miscarriage like a pro, really, but a second one would've been crushing, I think) made me rather emotionally distant from the whole thing. Which, now that I think about it, is kind of sad!

Anyway, once the first trimester was over, and we had some excellent test results back, it was time to start telling people, and of course to start accepting for ourselves that it was really happening. Since then, I have been feeling very, very joyful about it. In fact, I've been on cloud nine pretty much every day, though I have also felt extremely grounded. In a good way. It's been this very calm, deep happiness, if that makes sense. No wild mood swings, no getting weepy....

Until last week. It was the day before I was leaving to come out to California to see my family. It was &%#*ing cold. Single digits. Below zero if you count the wind chill. I had been out tutoring and came home to Bob (all the kids were with their other parents). Bob asked me what I wanted to eat for lunch, and I just burst into tears! "Tortilla soup," I managed to say. "Do we have the stuff to make it?" he asked. "No!" I cried. Being the super-sweet husband he is, of course he volunteered to go out and get me some, but this made me cry even harder--"You can't go out there! It's too cold! And besides, I don't want you to leave me!" and, well, you get the picture. I cried for quite some time, until I fell asleep, which is probably all I really needed. When I woke up, we bundled up and did go out together for some tortilla soup.... But anyway, it was the first time during this whole pregnancy that I felt quite overwhelmed and emotionally not-really-myself.

Have I been willing myself to stay calm all this time, and I'm finally letting my guard down more? It doesn't really feel that way. Although, with all the responsibilities I have, it may be that something inside me knows I just *have* to stay grounded. Nothing like having other kids to keep you from getting too carried away by your own stuff, after all. But maybe now that I'm closing in on the third trimester and we are thinking about baby gear and other practical stuff it's becoming even more real to me, and that is taking things up a few notches for me emotionally. Or maybe the hormones are just finally catching up with me.

Whatever it is, I don't really mind! It is a true delight to be pregnant at this point in my life. And to be sharing it with my husband. And with George. And my step-kids.

So, I think I'll just relax and enjoy this ride for all it's worth :-)

Invictus and(/vs.) Avatar

I went to back-to-back showings of Invictus and Avatar last night. Two very different but quite powerful movies. I can't stop thinking about them--separately and in relation to one another.

Let me say that I went to Avatar fully expecting to fall asleep. For several reasons. A) I'm an insomniac whose body seems to decide that being in a dark movie theater is a perfect time to catch up on sleep, even when I'm watching a movie that I really enjoy... but especially when I'm watching a movie I don't really love, and B) based on the previews, I didn't think I was going to particularly enjoy this movie. I don't like action movies to begin with, and the previews I saw of this were full of violence. C) I found the last 3-D movie I went to, A Christmas Carol, to be somewhat hypnotizing and thus a great sleep-aid. D) It was a late showing--10:15--which *always* exacerbates this cinematic snooze problem of mine. E) I was completely exhausted to begin with, from the holidays in general, but also from a gig we had on the 30th (note to self: sit down during breaks when doing gigs while pregnant in 40s) and then of course New Year's Eve (we have an annual party), and my longed-for long nap during the day yesterday just didn't pan out. Because I wasn't sure I was going to like the movie anyway, I didn't really mind that I was probably going to sleep through it--I figured we'd get there, I'd get a feel for this movie that everyone was talking about, and then not-too-far-in I could start catching up on my sleep and my husband (um, let's call him Bob) could fill me in later.

But I didn't fall asleep. At all. This movie held my attention all the way until 1:00am.

It wasn't just the special effects that kept me awake, though they were admittedly worth the price of admission (especially if you sneak in and use the glasses you kept from A Christmas Carol, which I'm *not* saying I did). It was aesthetically a beautiful movie, with abundant, great scenes of an otherworldly jungle. But that is actually the sort of thing that is likely to lull me to sleep as much as anything.

So, it was really the rather compelling storyline that did it for me, I guess I'd have to say. In particular, it was the transformation of the protagonist as the world of his avatar and the Na'Vi people (ok, humanoids) becomes more and more real to him than the world from which he came, a transformation we as the audience undergo as well, to a degree. But also it's a great story of good vs. evil, and will-the-underdogs-beat-the-bully and all that. But also (and I don't think I'll be spoiling it for anyone by saying this, because you keep hearing it all over) it's a movie with a strong message rooted in current events, with interesting--if rather uncomfortable--implications. But more about that in a minute.

The other thing that held my interest was my consideration throughout of a very interesting review I had read in the New York Times. A brief quote: "The remarkable thing about 'Avatar' is the degree to which the technology is integral to the story. It is important to show Pandora and its Na’Vi natives in 3-D because 'Avatar' is fundamentally about the moral necessity of seeing other beings fully." It's true. It's very much a movie about perspective. And this is related to the other things that I said kept my attention during the movie, namely, the protagonist's (and our) gradual entrance into this other world, but also the critique this movie offers of American foreign policy.

You know, when you go to a movie, a good/compelling one at least, you go on a journey with that movie, and the journey this movie takes you on is one of increasing sympathy with the Na'Vi people. It felt strange and more-than-a-bit disorienting to me to find myself sympathizing with the underdogs in their struggle against the rapacious, bullying, imperialist enemy, when all the while I could not help being aware that that enemy is really us. Now, listen... those who know me know I'm a die-hard progressive and peacenik who loves my country but has never shied away from criticizing it. In fact, I think it's our patriotic duty to question and, when necessary, criticize our great country. It keeps us honest, and is absolutely vital to the health and survival of democracy.

So it's not that I felt strange engaging in a critique of American aggression. Not one bit. But it's one thing to be critical or even to radically oppose a policy or an entire war (or even war in general). It's another thing to be cheering for this group that wants to destroy "our" soldiers. I take that seriously and it makes me kinda sick to my stomach even as I write the words, because there are people in our military right now whom I really love. My own dad was a veteran (way back in WWII, but still). I couldn't possibly be hoping for any harm to come to them! Not for a split second, not even just by extension during a movie about an alternate universe. And yet, the story does kind of try to lead you there, within its own framework I mean.

(I'm not accusing James Cameron of hating our troops; please understand! If I had to guess, I'd say he's just trying to get us to think about things from a different angle for a minute... or 160 minutes... to consider what it is that our country may be doing to other countries, to other people, to their homes, their lives. And maybe to ask ourselves, and each other, and our government: why.)

But I guess I shouldn't feel too conflicted about all that because after all, as I said, I am a peacenik. I pretty much reject violence as a solution, even as a solution to violence. I don't want ANYone to come to a violent end; I really don't. I don't have this worked out utterly and completely (the Hitler thing remains a sticking point to me), and it's pretty hard to see how in this movie the Na'Vi could have successfully engaged in nonviolent resistance. And I also know that some will consider my viewpoints naive. I'm not going to go into a full explanation of why I try my hardest to embrace peace on both a global and also the most individual level, in every single situation, because that would make this post too long. But I will say that I think all war is a tragic failure of humanity to live up to our potential. All war saddens me deeply. I do believe that we can do better and that we must find ways to do better. Not just we Americans, but we humans. In support of this, I would point to what great things have been accomplished by proponents/practitioners of nonviolence such as Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and, well, Nelson Mandela.

Which brings me to Invictus. Compared to Avatar, it was a modest, quiet movie. But it was terrific. I loved it, and found it deeply inspiring but not schmaltzy. The message of Nelson Mandela came through beautifully. I found it moving on a personal level as well as a political one: if he could forgive those people who imprisoned him for 27 years and who actually wanted him dead, and who dragged his family out of their home, if he could forgive them enough to become *their* leader and to represent *their* interests, whom could I not forgive, ever? What a great challenge Mandela's example offers to each one of us for our own lives, for how we interact with one another on an individual and a global level.

I know that Invictus was not about what to do when the enemy is attempting to destroy your home, and so in some ways perhaps a comparison with Avatar is unfair. Invictus is about what happens after the underdog has already won, and how, when the underdog suddenly finds himself in a position of power, he finds a way to heal everyone involved. He finds a way to give them the real respect they never gave him, and to treat them with a humanity they never would have expected after the way they treated him (and those like him) for so very, very long. It gives me faith in humankind. A reason to hope. For *real* change. Lasting change. For peace. And for the safety and well-being of every person on this planet.

Ok, I think I'll get off my soapbox and go make a daisy chain now. Or maybe I'll try to catch up on my sleep, finally.