Thursday, May 27, 2010

You Can Count On Me

This past week, I finally watched Kenneth Lonergan's film after years of vacillation and leap frogging by other media. I knew it is a well regarded and reviewed film, winning the Sundance Jury Prize and the adulation of several of my friends and friends' friends. The past few years, I had been playing catch up with films like You Can Count On Me. I had made sure to see classics that have otherwise eluded me: Cool Hand Luke, The Piano, Blue Velvet, My Own Private Idaho. These flicks are rather disparate in any sense of thematic qualities, but they all somehow stuck in my head as "affecting" pieces of art, things that would move me. Of course I "should" see these films, but the promise of possibly being changed by something was somewhat daunting.

But You Can Count On Me stuck out as a movie that I was almost scared of. It might, I thought, actually upset me. There might be something there that could shake me and open me up in uncomfortably traumatic ways. I came to think of it as a disturbing movie before I had even seen it. This opinion had mostly been shaped by two of my good friends' conversations about the movie. My one friend told the story about the first time he had seen it, after which he determined he must break up with his current girlfriend, because he realized, "she couldn't count on me." What the hell did that mean? I almost didn't want to know for fear of the truth being too much for me to bear. Therefore, I was reluctant to actually watch the movie. It took on a mythically tragic quality that snowballed into an untouchable piece of art. In many ways, it might as well have been Dancer In The Dark (which I'm still to much of a wuss to attempt). I was especially reluctant to watch the movie with own my girlfriend, Jackie.

Thankfully, there is a happy ending to my story of watching this film, because it is, actually, and undeniably, so damn wonderful. There are some rough moments in the film, but nothing that will haunt your subconscious. And after five days of reflecting on You Can Count On Me, I've come to the conclusion that it's actually one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. The characters are vivid and compelling with exquisite portrayals by Linney, Ruffalo, Broderick, and Culkin. The dialog is honest and, at times, even evocative. I was astounded by the sheer mimesis of contemporary American angst and by my own compassion for Terry's humane maliase.

Terry: So how are ya?
Sammy: I'm fine, Terry.
Terry: So um... um, how's Rudy?
Sammy: We're fine, Terry.
[beat]
Sammy: How are you?
Terry: Uhhh, yeaahhh...

The priest foil turns out to be an especially spiritual and philosophical intersection in the story that left me holding a very clear mirror up to thoughts of my own life. Yet it is a story that succumbs to the truth while not reaching for morality or tidiness. And Lonergan should be applauded for that alone, because he shows us that fine films and stories don't need to end with sunsets. Of course, the Jury has already applied that appropriate applause.

I encourage and frankly insist people see this movie. It is and will be a relevant film for its literary frankness and its complete charm. I want to see it again. Now. Too bad I hadn't known how much I would love it, or at least I could have not been so intimidated by it. Maybe I would have done that sinful act of actually buying a movie like an album, and owning it before I had known it. Ultimately, I was scared to love this film for no good reason. Lesson learned.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Hello

interj. Used to greet someone, answer the telephone, or express surprise.
n. pl. hel·los
A calling or greeting of "hello."
intr.v. hel·loed, hel·lo·ing, hel·loes
To call "hello."

[Alteration of hallo, alteration of obsolete holla, stop!, perhaps from Old French hola : ho, ho! + la, there (from Latin illāc, that way).]


I once read somewhere of an illiterate man with no education who taught himself to read with a basic dictionary. He ended up completing the entire text and learning everything he needed to know. The novelty of this has stuck with me for quite some time. I wonder about the unadulterated and unencumbered experience of "knowing" a language versus "learning" a language through experience and application. Of course, I end up taking a pessimistic approach.

In our modern day, we often misuse, overuse, and abuse language, often down to a single word. I have noticed this in my own life, losing with myself when I get lazy or habitual with language and communication. Words like "amazing," "totally," "huge" have lost their luster and literal meaning for me. So a desire arose to closely examine individual words, how they are used, where they came from, and what they actually means. The best way to optimize this exploration and challenging of language, I figured, would be to document it.

I have decided to examine definitions and, as appropriate, research famous uses of the word in literature, media, folklore. Words I love, words I hate, misinterpreted words, misused words, unique words, rare words. Every word has its own story & place in the world and I'd like to write what I love about how some words sound and what they mean to me. On occasion, I'll delve into memories I have associated with an individual word, and everything it conjures for me. I want an honest exploration into how - and possibly why - we communicate. There will be wonderful connections between disparate words and the variety that is our language. My compass is the English language, and maybe even others.

Another piece of my agenda, is a bit anecdotal. I want to encourage myself, and maybe others, to stop ignoring words they don't know or pretending they do know them and move on. This has grown from a "pet peeve" into a saddening disappointment in daily discourse. What's the harm in admitting ignorance and learning something new. Don't ever be afraid to look something up!

So, back to "hello." It makes me think of babies' parents shaking their hands, using a musical lilt to say the word while the baby has a bewildered look on its face, and then later, when the child learns what it means and how to say it, she smiles like crazy and does it to every stranger in the grocery store. Years later we use it every day. Is any word more common to strangers, mothers, teachers, friends, buskers, cashiers, bartenders, lovers, grandchildren, neighbors, lost friends, enemies, street vendors, plumbers - I could go on. I am going on. Because this word goes on. It's a damn good word. And it's a damn shame it gets over used. Personally, I like the history of it above, the Old French, and Latin, and Spanish "hola," "ho! la." "That way," "you there." See me. I see you.

Being seen can go unnoticed and unacknowledged. Every day I see people without greeting them. Must you be acquainted to greet? I try to greet people I don't even know by asking them their name. Just last week I went to a movie theater with my girlfriend and asked the cashier who sold me a juice what her name was. She said, "Courtney," and then paused, before continuing with: "No customer has ever asked me my name before." And we're in New York City, friends! Hundreds of customers must have bought popcorn, Twizzlers, Pepsi from Courtney without ever truly greeting her. Let's look up "greeting":

greet·ing (grē'tĭng)
n. A word or gesture of welcome or salutation.

And "welcome":

wel·come (wěl'kəm)
adj.

1. Received with pleasure and hospitality into one's company or home: a welcome guest.
2. Giving pleasure or satisfaction; agreeable or gratifying: a welcome respite from hard work.
3. Cordially or willingly permitted or invited: You are welcome to join us.
4. Used in the expression you're welcome to acknowledge an expression of gratitude.

n.

1. A cordial greeting or hospitable reception given to an arriving person.
2. A reception upon arrival: gave the stranger an unfriendly welcome.
3. The state of being welcome: Don't overstay your welcome.

tr.v. wel·comed, wel·com·ing, wel·comes

1. To greet, receive, or entertain (another or others) cordially or hospitably.
2. To receive or accept gladly: would welcome a little privacy.

interj. Used to greet cordially a visitor or recent arrival.

[Middle English, alteration (influenced by wel, well) of Old English wilcuma, welcome guest, welcome; see gwā- in Indo-European roots.]
wel'come·ly adv., wel'come·ness n., wel'com·er n.


And salutation:

sal·u·ta·tion (sāl'yə-tā'shən)
n.

1.
1. A polite expression of greeting or goodwill.
2. salutations Greetings indicating respect and affection; regards.
2. A gesture of greeting, such as a bow or kiss.
3. A word or phrase of greeting used to begin a letter or message.

sal'u·ta'tion·al adj.


Perhaps Courtney had never worked too hard to ever receive a proper welcome. Or maybe she had worked so hard that no one ever acknowledged it and she had been waiting since her first day on the job for someone to utilize the full meaning of the word "hello." Had no one ever given her a salutation, a salute. Had no one ever given her respect enough to ask her name? Don't we all, even those who hate their jobs and are in service of others, deserve respect and regard?

Regard:

re⋅gard
  /rɪˈgɑrd/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [ri-gahrd] Show IPA
Use regard in a Sentence
–verb (used with object)
1. to look upon or think of with a particular feeling: to regard a person with favor.
2. to have or show respect or concern for.
3. to think highly of; esteem.
4. to take into account; consider.
5. to look at; observe: She regarded him with amusement.
6. to relate to; concern: The news does not regard the explosion.
7. to see, look at, or conceive of in a particular way; judge (usually fol. by as): I regard every assignment as a challenge. They regarded his behavior as childish.
–verb (used without object)
8. to pay attention.
9. to look or gaze.
–noun
10. reference; relation: to err with regard to facts.
11. an aspect, point, or particular: quite satisfactory in this regard.
12. thought; attention; concern.
13. look; gaze.
14. respect, esteem, or deference: a high regard for scholarship.
15. kindly feeling; liking.
16. regards, sentiments of esteem or affection: Give them my regards.

Synonyms:
3. respect, honor, revere, value. 5. notice, note, see, remark, mark.


Perhaps we simply do not pay attention to anything in this world but ourselves. I don't mean to make this sound cynical or cast a spell of reprehension on my readers. It is a message of simple acknowledgment of others. I am exposing my thoughts to the world and I hope you can respect them. I am Courtney. Every day popping popcorn and cleaning toilets and changing your hard earned money and handing you your juice.