from happyrobot - updated 5/19/2013 6:38:22 PM http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp en-us http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10518
The helicopters came at 8 am yesterday during my quiet reading time. The helicopters circled and went up and came down and went up and circled. My quiet reading time was shot to hell.

Damn it! I thought. How hard is it for a girl to think in this crazy town?

An hour later, the helicopters were still circling. An hour after that, the helicopters were still there.

I went to yoga, but I couldn't get into it. My shoulders tensed to my ears. The instructor played stupid folkie alternative crap music.

And still the helicopters kept circling. Hell is sunny and bright Los Angeles with helicopters circling.

I went to my favorite coffee shop, and. . . .

Things got better.

I asked Happy the barista if she knew anything about the helicopters.

It was like a bomb scare. She said.

Was it like a bomb scare or an actual bomb scare? I asked. When bombs are involved and helicopters are circling, I like to be definite.

Actual. There was some loner guy with a thing for explosives, but it's okay, they caught him.

All that noise, it would be really embarrassing if they hadn't. But I had another thought to say to Happy.

Darn it, it's loners like him that give loners a bad rap. Not all of us are into explosives. Some of us just want to read literature.

And Happy and I had a good laugh. She made me an excellent cup of tea and toasted bagel.

Even though the helicopters continued to circle, I felt better. I later learned the full story. Apparently, the cops pulled over some dude and found a pipe bomb in his car. They then searched his apartment and found more bombs and explosive devices. Apparently, they were all safely detonated. All of this was about a quarter mile from Sunshine Jen Central.

I guess I should be freaked out, but I'm actually not. In May 2013 this is the world I'm living in.

For the record, the book I was reading when the helicopters came: Best European Fiction 2011. I had made it to the I-countries.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10517

On Saturday, I did a twelve mile walk down in Orange County with Southern California Chapter of the American Friends of the Camino. Gosh that's a long name. Their web page is here.

Now Gentle Reader, you might be thinking: wait Jen, I thought you hated walking groups. Last week, you totally riffed on a walking group you came upon in Malibu.

Yes, Gentle Reader, I am human and allowed to be self-contradictory. Besides, this group was a group of folks who had either walked the Camino in Spain or were thinking of walking the Camino in Spain. One of my favorite things to do is talk about the Camino, so I wanted to go and hang with folks who thought walking over 500 miles was a cool thing to do.

Besides, I got to tramp around the OC which is a vast suburban jungle between Los Angeles and San Diego to me. I have driven through parts of the OC without stopping. What would it be like to stop and walk around? What was there to see in the OC?

So Saturday morning, I amtraked down to San Juan Capistrano to meet the group. I sat on the morning train with a Cub Scout troop and watched the houses go by as I ate a muffin. I didn't have to worry about traffic or directions or parking. I was hoping for a chill-out twelve miles.

I met the rest of the group at the Mission at San Juan Capistrano. The Mission was right next to the train station, so it was easy to find. It was also Mariachi day at the Mission, so musicians in bright costumes were walking by.

We took half the cars over to a church called Santiago de Compostela, a Catholic Church in Lake Forrest where we started our walk. There was a funeral happening, so we didn't go into the church and congregated quietly outside on the patio next to a fountain with a Galician cross.



After taking the all important pictures, we started walking. The weather was sunny and warm with a nice ocean breeze hitting us. We walked mostly on sidewalks baking in the So Cal sun. I tried to walk on tree lawns whenever I could, and we got the occasional trail.

Our first rest stop was an Albertsons Supermarket. As I looked at the big beige building and the big cars in the lot, I realized I was a long way from Spain. Oh America, you are just so big. Please don't hit me with your great big cars.



As we walked, I got to talk with other folks in the group. I would walk and talk with someone, then I'd walk and talk with someone else. I shared memories and stories with folks who had done the Camino. I heard about preparations from folks who were planning their Camino. In all this walking and talking, I felt a little like I was back on the Camino again (only I didn't have my big red pack), and that was a very good feeling. Who would've thought I'd feel that way in Orange County?

When we arrived back in San Juan Capistrano, everyone in the group of nineteen had walked the whole way, and no one was complaining. Some folks walked fast. Some folks walked slow. Some folks hadn't been sure that they could walk twelve miles. Everyone made it. Yay Team!

A group of us went to a local restaurant for a late lunch/early dinner; then I had to catch my train back to LA. As I sat back in my seat, I realized that I was kind of tired and took a nap all the way to LA. There was a bike racing team on the train back, so I wasn't the only sweaty person on Amtrak.

On the Orange County Camino, I got to chatting with Rosie who has a great blog. She also wrote about the Orange County walk. You can check out her blog here. 

]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10516  
While I was walking uphill on my usual Saturday hike, I encountered a large group of hikers walking downhill. There were around a dozen walkers, and I stood patiently by the side of the path to let the caravan pass.

Before I talk more about the group, I should say that if signing up for a group hike encourages you to go out into the woods, go for it. I totally understand that some folks need the social motivation to go out and tramp around nature for a few hours. Some folks like hiking with groups. I personally like to just go, walk for a few hours, clear my head.

Still this group was so amusing that they cried out to be blogged about. Blog about us! Blog about us! They seemed to collectively shout. Usually, when I've encountered big groups on trails, there's one or two divas and the rest have their head down as they wonder when it will be over.

So on Saturday, I stood to the side and said hello to folks as they came down past me. I'm a big fan of saying hello. It opens up the communication and shows that I'm not completely anti-social. I've noticed that on some trails in the LA area folks don't want to say hello. In fact, they don't want to make eye contact as if they're afraid I'll carjack them. Whatever. Move on.

Because the hiking group was a cheerful social Saturday morning group that had probably only walked about a mile and a half, many said hello back.

You have a lot of uphill to go. One lady clad all in REI gear told me.

Thanks. I said then I thought about what she had said.

Why was she telling me that? Of course I have a lot of uphill to go. In fact, I do that trail for the uphill which I was doing at a very nice pace until I had to stop for the freight train of hikers. Such a statement was not only redundant and obvious, but it does not help my situation which wasn't really a situation but now my head was turning it into one. All I had said was hello.

Then a guy strumming some pop song on a guitar walked by. Really? He was feeling it. The nature. The sunshine. The music. Seriously?

All my tears have been used up
On another love. . . .

Ladies and Gentlemen, the reason I do not group hike.

I continued to hello the people who passed and wondered out loud who was gonna shoot the guitar player. One guy turned back to me and pointed to himself. I felt bad for that guy, but then I realized that if he was truly miserable, he could just leave the group.

More hikers passed. One couple (a man and woman) were having a serious discussion.

It makes me depressed. The woman said.

Don't be depressed. I said as they passed. The woman looked at me with uncertainty but kept walking.

Finally, the last stragglers took up the rear. They were the folks who liked to go slow on the downhill. I understand that mentality. I like to go slow on the downhill too. It's a hike not a race. It's okay. It's all okay.

When I finally had a human-free trail in front of me, I started going again. A few yards on, I encountered a lone person standing and taking in the view. I wondered if he had once been part of the group hike and had decided to ditch it. Was he gonna go his own way? I said hello. He said hello. Then I continued on.

At my first rest stop, I sat in the shade and ate a tangerine. I hoped the group hike was having a good time going to wherever they were going. I didn't rest long. I had to go to a play reading later in the day, and I had a few miles to walk before then.



]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10514  For my birthday, my mother sent me a $25 gift card from Costco and some tea (I like tea). I thanked her profusely, and she told me how much she loved Costco. My mother is a Shopper. Capitalism was invented for her. A retail environment is her habitat. She is a top of the food chain shopper. She's also a very nice person.

Unlike my mother, I am not a shopper. I can shop (I am female afterall), but I would rather do a lot of other things besides shopping. I should also say that I'm not completely Costco naïve. I think I've been inside a Costco twice. Both times I went with a man who was on a mission to get something. I also can find the nearest Costco. It's right behind the In & Out.

I went to Costco one grey overcast morning. I walked in and showed my gift card to the card checker at the door. He smiled and greeted me. Once inside, I stood facing a row of big flat screen TVs sitting on boxes containing more TVs. They were all simultaneously showing a preview for the new Star Trek movie, and it was just too much media stimulation. A woman pushing a huge flat cart nearly hit me, but I jumped out of her way. How much stuff was she gonna buy?

I clutched my Trader Joes shopping bags to my chest and moved on. I walked past a male Costco worker selling purses. One of his co-workers was ribbing him. Still, it takes a certain kind of man to sell purses at Costco.

I walked past the Blendtec girl making green smoothies with a Blendtec blender. She was blending and talking and blending and talking. The blender looked and sounded like every blender I had ever seen. I tried a bit of the green smoothie. It was a little too sweet for me.

I decided to be practical in my Costco shopping. What do I use a lot of? What do I always run out of? Laundry detergent. Unfortunately, all the detergent was bulk sized, and I had forgotten to grab a cart and take my yearly steroid. I looked around bathroom items, but they didn't have my brands. I contemplated ibuprofen, but I got depressed. I don't need that much pain relief.

I wonder if Costco has ever thought of doing a work-out day for its members. For a few hours, folks can come in and do laps around the store. Maybe do some squats with bags of potatoes. Maybe bench press the giant tubs of oleo.

I wandered through the food area. There were coolers and coolers of food. Who eats all that stuff? Then I started to recognize items from a variety of potlucks I had been to through the years. However, I couldn't buy anything frozen or refrigerated. Costco was my first stop of the day.

I wandered into the valley of clothes. At the center of the store were huge tables with stacks of ugly clothing. Two female Costco employees were folding and chatting. I did find a blue T-shirt for thirteen bucks ($12.99). It was made in Lesotho. I looked Lesotho up online. It's a landlocked African nation completely surrounded by South Africa and the largest exporter of garments to the US from Sub-Saharan Africa.

But I couldn't reflect too long on world economics and the true cost of cheap goods. The green smoothie sample had frozen my brain.

I found a tub of Fancy Mixed Nuts. I like nuts. They could also be a visual metaphor for my state of mind in Costco. My nuttiness is of the mixed variety. There is so much visual stimulation that I don't know where to look. The nuts were $14.49. Sold!

I took my two simple items to the checkout and got in line behind a bunch shopping carts. The lady in line behind me exclaimed that she had come all the way from Israel to shop at Costco. I noticed she had some nice looking bath towels.

After I paid, escaped, and nearly hit a Prius as I was pulled out of my spot, I went over to the In & Out. I ordered my fries animal style.

I wonder what Costco is like at night when nobody is there. Do the ghosts come out and watch the big televisions?

Thanks Mom, but please don't make me go to Costco again.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10511  Dear Tilda Swinton,

I recently saw an article in the New York Times about your performance art piece at the Museum of Modern Art. According to the article, you lie in a glass box and seem to sleep in plain clothes. The card next to the glass box reads: Living artist, glass, steel, mattress, pillow, linen, water and spectacles.

Since I live in Los Angeles and the Museum of Modern Art is in New York, I think it's highly unlikely that I will see this piece soon. Still, I am curious about one thing: can you hear the people who come into your gallery?

Can you hear the little kid who blows on the glass to make it foggy? Or the other little kid knocking on the glass? Or the third little kid who runs into the glass full speed then hits the floor and lets out a wail that would wake the mummy at the Met?

Can you hear the comments people make like:

She's a lot thinner than I thought she'd be.

How does she go to the bathroom in there?

Whoahhh she's sleeping.

Is that really her?

It's like she's making a statement you know.

Oh she was so good in that movie with George Clooney.

I'm moving on from it. I'm really moving on.

It seems a little self-indulgent if you ask me.

I wonder where they stashed that Matisse?

What does she need the spectacles for?

I wonder what brand of water that is.

I told him I loved him, and he just stood there not saying anything, and I wondered if the last twenty-two minutes meant anything to him?

No cameras!

Stand there, got it.

No cameras!

There's a good Italian place near here.

She's finally moving out. Finnnnally.

I've been working on my idea, you know, the one I told you about, and I think it's almost to the point where it is presentable.

I made it as far as the second interview, and it went to someone else. Not even a we'll keep your resume on file. Just it went to someone else. Oh whatever.

--Did you see The Voice last night?
--Oh my God, that girl was so good.

This is soooooo borinnnnnng, Mommmmmm.

We spent all night texting. It was like we really connected.

Excuse me, where's the nearest restroom?

Okay, that's nice. Let's drink.

Do you sometimes want to talk back to your viewers? Do you want to tell them that it's all okay inside the glass? Do you want to tell them that inside a glass a box you hear forever in the silence? Do you want to tell them that actually, you were in two movies with George Clooney?

What would I say if I saw you asleep in the glass box? Probably nothing. How long would I stand there looking in at a sleeping actress? I could stand there as long as I want. Art is cool that way.

Would the gallery be silent? Would it be like seeing a deer out in the woods when you stand there not moving because there's something you don't want to disturb even though you know it won't hurt you? If one watched you long enough, would a little twitch or flutter have the epic quality of film projected on a huge wall of a dark room? Or would it all just be human?

Regards,

Sunshine Jen
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After facing rush hour traffic the other night, I decided to grab a slice of pizza therapy at Roccos on Main Street of Culver City. I had a Farmer's Market slice with cheese, tomato sauce, and tons of veggie goodness. Sometimes, all I need is a slice. Back on an even keel, I headed to the parking garage. I was feeling fortified enough to get back in the car.

On the sidewalk outside the parking garage, an obviously lost young couple were looking at their phones and doing everything to figure out where they were and where the restaurant was except they didn't look up or ask directions from two or three other people walking by.

Finally, the woman asked me where the Tender Greens was. I told her down the block and make a left, she'll see it. Meanwhile the guy kept looking at his phone. Finally, he asked if I knew where 999909 Culver Boulevard. I held my hand up in a calming gesture.

Sir, your numbers mean nothing to me. I said.

Then I pointed him in the right direction for Culver Boulevard. You can't miss it. There are a zillion restaurants there.

The young couple walked away. I headed back to my car. As I climbed the stairs of the parking garage, I thought about the modern urban world.

I used to just walk around an area and pick a restaurant that looked good. Or some friends would know a place, and we'd go there. Or I would know a place. Now there are gadgets with maps, reviews, recommendations. Does anyone just walk around a neighborhood anymore?

As I unlocked my car, I realized that I don't want to live a gadget urban life. I want to try a place or a thing just for the sake of trying it. It might be good. It might be bad. So what. If it's bad, don't go back there again. If it's good, go there again.

I do realize that the gadgets are here to stay, and I actually benefit from them (look! I have an amazon author page now). But I don't want to give up standing in a new space and looking around it with amazement and thinking oh wow, I want to try that.

The radical in me thinks these gadgets are a way of numbing and enslaving the populace. We have to work jobs to buy our gadgets which distract us from social issues like stagnant wages and the rise of mega-banks. What if we threw our gadgets away and existed as a nomadic people in a zombie post-apocalypse?

Speaking of unplugging and looking around, one of my facebook friends recently announced that she was taking facebook off her phone. The more plugged in we get the more unplugged I want to be. Now, I'm no real time saint. I have checked my phone during conversations. But I'm all for putting the gadgets away. Maybe I'm just a curmudgeon at heart.

Finally, if you're reading this blog on a gadget while walking down the street, LOOK UP!

]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10508  
I apologize for the scarcity of sunshine jenity lately. I've been a bit busy launching my second ebook.

Yep, I had so much fun making The Slacker Pilgrim Guide that I had to do it again. This time, I made a fiction book about Los Angeles.

The new ebook is called Beautiful Collisions: Stories from Los Angeles, and it is available worldwide on Amazon.

Beautiful Collisions is a collection of interconnected stories about women in Los Angeles during the new millennium. Some of the collisions are romantic. Some are not so nice. They are all beautiful in some way.

With this book, I want to capture a Los Angeles that thrives in the imagination. I am also excited that I can finally spell millennium without looking it up (it was just one of those words that always got me). And don't worry, no fictional characters were harmed during the making of this book.

After I launched The Slacker Pilgrim Guide, some writer friends wanted to pick my brain about making ebooks. How? What? Where? I've decided to do the rest of this post in question and answer format.


I've written something, and I've been meaning to do something with it. Maybe I'll do it as an ebook. Where do I start?

When I was thinking about making The Slacker Pilgrim Guide into an ebook, I read Let's Get Digital by David Gaughran. He was really good about going step by step into the world of ebooks from formatting to promotion. His book also gave me the confidence to do it. 

A good site to check out is Smashwords (www.smashwords.com). The Smashwords style guide is extremely easy to follow. I was able to get The Slacker Pilgrim Guide up on all channels by uploading to Smashwords. You can upload to Amazon from Smashwords, but you can also just upload your document onto Amazon easily which I did. 


Do I need special software?

I work on Microsoft Word 2003 for Windows XP. Once formatted properly, I uploaded the document to Amazon which did the conversion and even spell checked.

I am not super technical. I type all the Sunshine Jen posts on Word as well.

Since I am not in the Appleverse, I can get into the Apple Store through Smashwords. Sorry Apple folks, at this point, the new book is only available on Amazon.


Why is Beautiful Collisions only available on Amazon?

I wanted to see what being exclusive on Amazon would be like. I can opt out at the end of any 90 day period.


I don't have a Kindle. How can I read your new book?

You can download a Kindle Reader here.


Do you hate real books now?

No. I don't hate real books. The majority of my reading is still print. I enjoy holding books just like I enjoy writing on paper with a pen. I don't think printed paper will ever die. Ebook readers are just another medium---not the only medium.


Will there be a happy robot ebook?

Actually, that's my question. Rich????


Are you going to do another trip?

Working on it.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10507  
First, a bit of housekeeping. I am slowly getting the hang of Twitter. My handle is @RoboSunshineJen. I will follow you if you follow me all the days and nights. . .

I also recently blogged about the Camino over on Girlfriendology. You can go there by clicking here.

And onto the blog post. . .

Lately, I've been feeling alienated in LA, but I try not to let it get me down as I go for long hikes in the Santa Monica Mountains. Recently, this alienation became much more present when I went to a talk about virtual reality and the modern theatre.

I rsvped to the rsvp email. I received a confirmation/please-come email back from Amelia. I showed up five minutes before the start of the talk. Nothing starts on time in LA, so I was early. I went up to the girl with the list at a table by the door.

Jen: Hi, I made a reservation. It's Jen.

List Girl: Joan?

Jen: No, Jen. J-E-N.

List Girl: We don't have you on the list.

Jen: I got a confirmation email from Amelia.

List Girl: Could it be under a different name?

Jen: No.

List Girl: Uhm.

(Long pause as List Girl stares blankly at my shoulder for a moment, then looks over at another list on the table.)

Jen: Do you have a second list?

List Girl: No it's the same list.

Jen: (unsure what to do next) So. . . .

List Girl: You can just go in.

Jen goes in pondering the relevance of the list. By the way, the talk was not very good although they did serve sweets afterwards.

Long after I forgot the talk, I continued to think about the list. I have been on both sides of the list. I have been the girl with the list. I have been the girl who made the list. I have been on the list, the friend of someone on the list (have they shown up yet?), and not on the list but willing to pay cash.

Lists, lists, lists. LA is full of lists. Are you on the list? Off the list? What if we just got rid of all the lists?

I'm not an A-lister. I'm not even a B, C, or D-lister. I'm a blister lister. I don't deal well with list friction.

And there were flowers in bloom on my recent hike.



]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10506  
My Aunt has a dog who loves to walk. He's a six year old mutt with a lot of border collie in him. He does not play fetch. He does not run around the dog run with other dogs. He just walks. His name is Earl.

Earl and I get along well because I will take him for long walks on trails. Earl will stay with me on the trail and come to me when I call. He doesn't care about snakes, horses, or other dogs. Occasionally, he might smell a smell, but he is an excellent trail hiker.

One of our favorite trails is in the Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park at the end of Mullholland Drive west of the 405 freeway. You can bring a dog off-leash as long as he/she is under voice control and you clean up after him/her preferably with a bio-degradable plastic bag. When the smog is low, there are great views of LA's vast urban sprawl including the San Fernando Valley and Downtown.



You can also walk to an abandoned cold war missile complex in San Vicente Mountain Park less than a mile from the parking lot, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Recently, Earl and I went up to Westridge-Canyonback and also to the Missile Silo. It was a clear February day. The smog wasn't bad. I actually remembered to bring a camera.



We walked a mellow walk. There weren't any puppies that so enthusiastically wanted to be friends that they were pulling their owners on the leash. There weren't uncertain dog owners who worry that Earl will attack their little dog (he won't). There weren't too many bikes speeding down the downhills and huffing and puffing up the uphills. We could just chill and walk.

We walked past burned out trees and a golf course. We took some trails over hills. We took water breaks and walked some more. We took the road to the missile silo in San Vicente Mountain Park.

After 8/10th of a mile (according to sign), we arrived at LA96C, formerly a Nike Missile Control Site during the 1950s and 1960s. During the Cold War, LA96C was one of sixteen missile sites that protected Los Angeles from Soviet bombers.



By the end of the 1960s, both the US and Soviet Union had developed bigger missiles, so LA96C became a park not for peaceful reasons. It simply became obsolete.

Earl and I stopped for another water break before heading back to the car. He curled up in the backseat for a nap as I faced 405 traffic. If I could only teach that dog how to drive. . .
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10505  
My Aunt has a dog who loves to walk. He's a six year old mutt with a lot of border collie in him. He does not play fetch. He does not run around the dog run with other dogs. He just walks. His name is Earl.

Earl and I get along well because I will take him for long walks on trails. Earl will stay with me on the trail and come to me when I call. He doesn't care about snakes, horses, or other dogs. Occasionally, he might smell a smell, but he is an excellent trail hiker.

One of our favorite trails is in the Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park at the end of Mullholland Drive west of the 405 freeway. You can bring a dog off-leash as long as he/she is under voice control and you clean up after him/her preferably with a bio-degradable plastic bag. When the smog is low, there are great views of LA's vast urban sprawl including the San Fernando Valley and Downtown.



You can also walk to an abandoned cold war missile complex in San Vicente Mountain Park less than a mile from the parking lot, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Recently, Earl and I went up to Westridge-Canyonback and also to the Missile Silo. It was a clear February day. The smog wasn't bad. I actually remembered to bring a camera.



We walked a mellow walk. There weren't any puppies that so enthusiastically wanted to be friends that they were pulling their owners on the leash. There weren't uncertain dog owners who worry that Earl will attack their little dog (he won't). There weren't too many bikes speeding down the downhills and huffing and puffing up the uphills. We could just chill and walk.

We walked past burned out trees and a golf course. We took some trails over hills. We took water breaks and walked some more. We took the road to the missile silo in San Vicente Mountain Park.

After 8/10th of a mile (according to sign), we arrived at LA96C, formerly a Nike Missile Control Site during the 1950s and 1960s. During the Cold War, LA96C was one of sixteen missile sites that protected Los Angeles from Soviet bombers.



By the end of the 1960s, both the US and Soviet Union had developed bigger missiles, so LA96C became a park not for peaceful reasons. It simply became obsolete.

Earl and I stopped for another water break before heading back to the car. He curled up in the backseat for a nap as I faced 405 traffic. If I could only teach that dog how to drive. . .
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10499  
Recently my uncle told me about a cocktail with gin and chartreuse he had at a restaurant. It was an old school cocktail called The Last Word.

Even though I love gin without irony, I'm not a big chartreuse fan. It's a little too herbal for me. However, when I mixed the Last Word, I was quite surprised and pleased with the result. When the chartreuse can play with the strong gin, lime, and cherry flavors, it becomes less obnoxious and even a bit pleasant.

The Last Word

1 oz gin

1 oz chartreuse

A splash of cherry liqueur

A splash of lime juice

Combine ingredients and stir. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

I used yellow chartreuse and Tanqueray gin. I was gentle with the splash of Luxardo cherry liqueur. A little Luxardo goes a long way. For the lime, I squeezed half a small lime into the mix of two drinks.



]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10498  
Recently the interweb was all aflutter with Harrison Ford rumors. What rumors could my favorite low key celebrity warrant? I thought he was too cool for rumors.

The rumors were all about Harrison Ford possibly reprising his role of Han Solo in the new Star Wars movies. You know, those Star Wars movies that sound like they haven't even been written yet.

I've been trying to ignore anything to do with new Star Wars movies. I remember the last time we got new Star Wars movies. Yep, I remember that well. I can summarize it with one word said twice: Jar. I really don't want to go there again.

So I've decided to ignore all Star Wars hearsay and announcement and rumor. I would become a Star Wars Buddhist. All things Star Wars would all travel through me and not affect me as I breathe in and out, in and out, uuuuuuuh, ahhhhhhh, uuuuuuuh, ahhhhhh, uuuuuuh, hannnnnn, uuuuuuuh, hannnnn, solo, Han Solo. Damnnnit!

I was always a Han Solo kind of gal. How could I not be? He had his own ship with secret compartments. He could fix things. His best friend was a Wookiee. He wore tight pants and a blaster. He'd outrun Imperial starships. No mystical field controlled his destiny. It was all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense.

The original three movies were about Luke becoming a man (without getting laid). Han was the man. Han got laid. Of all the human characters, Han seemed to be the most in his skin. Sure, he didn't have the Vader Dad/Luke & Leia twins angst on his plate. He was motivated by money in the first film, saving himself and his gang in the second film, and getting laid in the third film (why do you think he volunteered to lead the strike team on the Endor moon).

A galaxy far far away is a strange place to travel through, but with Han, we had a comic hook. He wasn't into all that Jedi stuff, and that made the force even more interesting. He had real world problems and a space ship in need of constant maintenance.

I could get all sophisticated about Han Solo. I could talk about the antihero or the mastery of a machine in a machine driven society. I don't want to go there. I just want to take a moment to go ahhhh Han Solo.

Ahhh Han Solo.

I can't begin to tell you how happy typing that makes me.

I have liked other handsome male movie characters, but Han Solo still makes me sigh. Han Solo still makes me grin in that cocky way. Maybe it's because the original Star Wars films came out in my youth leading into adolescence. Maybe it's because I watched them way too many times as a kid. It doesn't matter.

As I was thinking about this piece, I was trying to come up with my favorite Han moment. Was it the infamous I know (apparently adlibbed) line as he was lowered down into the smoking carbonite in Empire? Was it the meeting in the Cantina in Star Wars? Was it the subsequent scene with Greedo in which he shot first? Was it one-liners like Fly casual and Hey, it's me in Jedi? Was it the yeehoo at the end of Star Wars when he hits Vader's ship and clears Luke to make the shot at the exhaust port? Was it the garbage shoot or rescuing Luke on Hoth or possibly becoming Ewok dinner?

If I could come up with my favorite Han moment, it would be the moment when the Millennium Falcon gets caught in the Death Star's tractor beam in Star Wars. It's a quick little scene in the cockpit right after they realize that what they're heading toward is no moon. It's a space station.

Luke: Why are we still moving toward it?

Han: We're caught in the tractor beam that's pulling us in.

Luke: There's gotta be something you can do.

Han: There's nothing I can do about it, Kid, I'm full power I'm gonna have to shut down. They're not gonna get me without a fight.

Obi Wan: You can't win. But there are alternatives to fighting.

And then we learn about the secret compartments.

It's an adrenaline scene in which Han has to say what's going on. I like that there are alternatives to fighting. We learn that he listens to Obi Wan.

So will I go to the cinema to watch an older Han Solo? I always saw Han Solo and Lando Calrissian sitting in the old rebel generals home. Every day, they would shoot womprats and nerf herders. Every night they would play cards to see who wins the Millennium Falcon.


]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10497  
College of Cardinals
Papal Conclave
Sistine Chapel
Apostolic Palace
Vatican City

Most Eminent Cardinals:

I wish to apply for the Sede Vacante announced yesterday. I have attached my resume for your consideration.

As you can see, I attended twelve years of Catholic school in my youth. Additionally, I took three years of Latin in high school. Even though I need to brush up on the vocabulary, I still have a strong understanding of grammar and conjugation.

Last year, I walked five hundred miles to Santiago de Compostela and earned a Compostela which I have framed. You can read more about my journey in my ebook available on amazon and other channels.

I also have a strong background in theatre and improv comedy. Not only do I have an appreciation for ritual, I can improvise in any performance setting. My training in musical theatre bookwriting enables me to not only appreciate the use of music in ritual but also how music can bring the listener closer to heightened state of being.

I can collaborate with many different (and sometimes difficult) personalities while working independently. I am a self-starter willing to work long hours to complete a project. I am detail oriented while never losing sight of long term goals and objectives. I believe in love and all the good stuff.

My application might seem strange, but there is precedent. In 1513, Pope Leo X was not a priest, but he was elected Pope. Even though I am not a priest, I have had other sacraments.

As for my femaleness, I will not use the legend of Pope Joan from the Middle Ages as an argument. However, let me reassure you that I have no intention of giving birth while parading through Rome.

I am available to start immediately, and I am willing to relocate to Vatican City. I will be happy to speak with you at your earliest convenience about the position. I look forward to meeting you.

Thank you for your consideration,

Kissing the Sacred Purple,

Sunshine Jen
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10493
Every year the Academy Awards announce their nominees, and every year, there are omissions. There are so many worthy films, but the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences can not honor everyone. What would be the point then?

So this year, if you were snubbed for an Oscar, fear not, you were in good fictional company.

Britannia Smith

If you want to talk about pure talent to emerge in the new millennium, you have to talk about Britannia Smith. She made her film debut in Straight Flush as an aspiring video poker player and mathematician who lives in a trailer. Critics praised her mixture of vulnerability and logic, but alas no nomination. In her next film, she played lap dancer who falls in love with a tax preparer in Naked Numbers. Even though she was again praised for her vulnerability and dancing ability, no nomination was given.

She then built up a diverse yet impressive series of film credits. In Don't Know Maybe, she tried her hand at romantic comedy playing a young corporate executive with a screwed up love life. In Zombie Queen, she battled with killer zombies. In Judgment of Judges, she had a small but pivotal role as a clerk for a Supreme Court justice.

2012 was a major year for her with the release of three of films. First, in the independent film, Twins, she played twins. Then, in the summer, she appeared as the vulnerable yet lethal Viola Vox in the action hero ensemble film, Team of Warriors. In December, she wowed the critics and won a bunch of awards for her portrayal of Joan of Arc's mother in Hearing Voices. However, when the nomination slate was announced, alas no nomination for Brit. She has stated that she doesn't act to win awards, but we all know someday her time will come. Next year, she plans to release an album of folk songs.

Rufus Fergussoner

Unlike Britannia, Rufus gets nominated a lot. Since the seventies, he has put together a distinguished acting career. He has won twice. This year, he starred in I Was Wrong, and even though the critics thought he was right, the academy did not nominate him for his quiet performance as naturalist who tries to build a nature center in the middle of a volcanic lake.

Abigail Gardner

This year there was a lot of talk about the nominations for best director. Who was on the list? Who was off the list? Why? Surprise! Eeeek! Ack! Oh! However, there is one brilliant director not on the list. Maybe it's because she's blonde. Maybe it's because film critics will need decades to understand and write about the nuances of her work.

Everyone agrees that Abigail Gardner's Picnic With Fire Ants is visionary filmmaking. She put the camera in the dirt to capture the realm of the fire ants. She sent the camera up into the sky (apparently by attaching it to a lot of balloons) for the hang gliding scene. She took a simple family drama and gave it universal appeal and significance. Every shot was brilliant. Every sound was part of a musically complex soundscape. Audiences laughed and cried and left the theatre feeling a little more connected to their fellow humans until they were awoken from their cinematic dream by the crackle of the toilet in the movie theatre's restroom.

Stella Starr

A good movie with a good cast is much better than a good movie with a bad cast. Movie goers do not like to watch bad acting, and they definitely do not want to watch a good actor badly cast. Such bad casting makes the viewer squirm in his seat and wonder why he had decided to see such a badly cast movie.

Some movies have good casts, and some movies have great casts. This year, two films have been praised for the outstanding ensembles, and both films had the same casting director who deserves special praise. Stella Starr (yes, that's her real name) was the casting director for TAFT! The Musical and Snowflakes on Her Nose.

For TAFT! The Musical, she had to find actors who could both sing and debate. Her casting of aging pop sensation, Robbie Robya, as the president was definitely the casting coup of the year. For Snowflakes on Her Nose, the romantic comedy about the assisted living facility in Florida, she not only found a great cast of older actors, but also several great unknown younger actors to create an ensemble with fifty named speaking parts.

In the Valley of Disaster

Many felt that this film was a shoo-in for a Foreign Film nomination. Its story of a young woman's coming of age on a sheep farm had a lyrical quality not often seen in modern filmmaking. It had everything a foreign film could need---sweeping vistas, deep characters, breasts, and sheep. The twenty-minute scene (all done in one take) of the dogs rounding up the sheep could be read on so many different levels. Some said it was a statement on the brutality of our world. Some said it was just about dogs and sheep period. Some said it was a cinematic retelling of Marquis de Sade. All agreed, it was unforgettable.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10492  
Inspired by Rich's 2005 Lost Post, I have put together a comprehensive and very special list of Sunshine Jen posts that never made it to Sunshine Jen.

1. The new Olympic Sport: Competitive Dog Walking

2. I make a new cocktail with gin.

3. Fake Internet Celebrity Awards (?????)

4. Forbidden Words. The idea for this one actually came from my old high school English teacher. Some of her forbidden words were: kind of, sort of, utilize (used incorrectly), deals with, in my opinion.

5. Musicals Based On 80s Movies. I only got as far as Chariots of Fire:

We’re running on wet sand.
We’re running real fast.
We’re running on wet sand.
We’re running real fast.

6. I hang out with other happyrobot people and we drink cocktails (with gin).

7. Recipes from the Sunshine Jen Kitchen: Spaghetti in Twinkee Sauce

8. I see a movie or read a book and have a lot to say about it.

9. The Ultimate LA Compliment: You're So Thin!

10. My Visit to a Sweat Lodge. It was warm. It was really really warm.

11. Does having sex on top of a robot make that robot happier?

12. A Post Where I List Posts That I Never Got Around To Writing]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10491  
Dear United States of America,

The Society of Ceiling Knowledge (SOCK) was shocked to see that once again a ceiling was evoked to describe the debt limit of the United States Government. As you know from previous correspondence, many ceilings feel that the term 'debt ceiling' is an inaccurate term since it does not convey the scope and potential of ceilings but instead shows them as something limited and not able to be crossed.

Since the dawn of man, ceilings in partnership with roofs have kept the rain or the sun off many a family. For centuries, people have stared up at ceilings before closing their eyes to go to sleepy sleep. Ceilings have held light and painting of the highest order. Some ceilings have even vaulted upwards toward a higher purpose.

And our point to you, United States, is that we are tired of our good name being brought up with the idea of debt. Ceilings have been dragged through the mud, and we feel it is time to speak up and claim our rightful place---above the floor and walls. We are not a limit. A stairway to another floor can cut right through us. In future, please refrain from using ceiling after the word debt.

We have also encouraged our friends at the Association To Promote All Cliffs (ATPAC) to take action after the term, Fiscal Cliff, came into popular usage. Cliffs are harmless geological formations, but Fiscal Cliff turned cliffs into pinnacles (which they're not actually) of fiscal calamity and potential economic devastation.

For over five hundred years, the Association for the Promotion of Cliffs has sought to promote their five thousand members in a positive light. Cliffs are an important part of planet earth. Without cliffs, there would be no mountains, no fjords, no ocean views.

The ATPAC decided to take the high path and not make any formal complaint. They have more pressing matters---erosion, mud slides, and inexperienced climbers. They say they care not for the matters of man financial or otherwise. They simply wish to stand day after day and be admired for their endurance.

Finally we contacted Lovers of Sink Holes (LOSH) and Society of Deep Abysses (SODA). They also would ask that you please refrain from using the terms Sink Hole, Abyss, Chasm, and Quick Sand to describe a drama in governance. Hole is acceptable. Nobody has any objection to Hole----singular and without any dramatic adjective.

We have been unable to reach the Weather Societies: Wonders of Nature (WON) and League of Stupendous Tempests (LOST). They have been busy with global warming. To our knowledge, LOST has never had any objection to use of Hurricane, Tornado, Tsunami, or any other storm word for metaphorical purposes.

Sincerely,


Mrs. Applegate's Dining Room Ceiling
Board Chairceiling
The Society of Ceiling Knowledge
Via Email


]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10487  
I decided to sum up my cultural consumption of 2012 in one giant blowout wambang posting.

2012 will always be the year of my first Camino, so I decided to keep it all positive and loving. These are not all the books I read or movies I saw. Too much of a slacker to write all that out. Instead, I decided to keep it simple and do four each (although it's really seven books because of the four Sarah Vowell books, but I'm not gonna get technical).

Books

How Should A Person Be? By Sheila Heti

I thought I would toss the book aside after thirty pages of hipster girlie angst. Instead, I kept reading. It has no answers for how a person should be, but it was fun watching one person try.


A Hologram for the King by Dave Eggers

Darn you, Dave Eggers. You publish really good books with really nice covers. You can write fiction and nonfiction. You pulled me into this modern tragic comedy and made me care.


Assasination Vacation, The Partly Clouded Patriot, The Wordy Shipmates, Unfamiliar Fishes by Sarah Vowell

This year, I discovered Sarah Vowell thanks to my friend Sara (no H). Sarah Vowell replaced Jack Kerouac as the author I would most want to take a road trip with. She unapologetically becomes obsessed with things, and I have caught myself a few times telling people strange facts I learned from Sarah Vowell.


The Longest Way Home: One Man's Quest for the Courage to Settle Down by Andrew McCarthy

Yes, it's the dude from Pretty in Pink. He was also in a Hallmark Christmas movie this year. He's also a very good travel writer. He can put himself into a place and describe himself in that place without it being all about him.



Movies

Hello I Must Be Going

This is a small film, it's not perfect, it's just human. It's about a thirty something divorced woman who moves back in with her parents and meets a eighteen year old guy. Excellent acting by an ensemble anchored by Melanie Lynskey.

The Way

I decided to do the Camino before I saw The Way. Then I saw The Way and realized I had made a good choice. You can't walk from St. Jean to Santiago de Compostela in ninety minutes. However, it did capture some of the spirit of the Camino Frances. And no, not all Dutchmen carry weed. Year of the Camino! Woohoo!

The Avengers

Batman and James Bond were both physically rundown in their angst filled movies, but these Avengers were so much fun and full of spunk. They got to save the world from some really bad stuff. I especially liked Mark Ruffalo as the Hulk.

A Night at the Opera

This is the last film I saw on the big screen in 2012, and I laughed my ass off. The Marx Brothers were funny, are funny, and will always be funny until the end of the world (which was supposed to be this year but wasn't, someone got the timing wrong).
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10486  
I saw a clip in time gone by
My hope was high
Back on Thanksgiving
The Les Miz preview made me cry
I hoped the film would be forgiving.

When I was young and unafraid,
I'd hear the songs as I got wasted
The words were twisted up and frayed
The music poppy and high waisted.

But the decades march along
And the songs they lose their wonder
As I find new songs to hear
As new rock gods grab the fa-a-a-a-ame.

He rocked my summer on CD
It blew my ears like endless thunder
It made me sing aloud off-key
But I was done when autumn ca-a-a-a-ame.

And still I dream I'll see a show
Where folks all sing along together
But no one writes good tales of woe
Filled with angst and awful weather.

I had a dream that I would see
A show chuck full with hell of living
So differently from what I see
Those shows I hear and see in dreams.

(in my tenor voice)

Who am I?
Can I condemn this film's mediocrity?
Pretend I do not see it as pretty.
The plot goes at a break neck pace
It's full of fights, it's full of chase.

Who am I?
Can I conceal my own mixed metaphors?
Pretend I'm not the biggest show tune whore?
And why does Jackman make me sigh
With his curly hair and stiff neck tie?

Yes I cried!
How can I ever be a Bergman fan?
How can I ever watch Bresson again?

My mind is my own mind I know
No longer down in oh-hi-oh.
I've seen good films
And some again
I've seen great ones now and thennnn.
Who am I?
Who am I?

I'm Sunshine Jen!

(and now my baritone voice)

Film
Shown in the darkness
It's visually stunning
With awesome sound
That's really loud
What have we witnessed?
What did it conceal?
But it kept a good pace
But it kept a good pace

And as I sit in the dark
I find myself feeling bored
I know what will happen again and again
It will win awards
And the camera swoops, swerves, and falls
And cranes and falls.

Stars!
In your multitude
Singing your hearts out
Filling the darkness
With mouths open wide
You all are feeling it
Loudly and sure
At least you all really tried
You all really did try

You all know how to cry
You took a course and saw Mame
And some did a season or two on broadway
But we won't name names
And the camera swoops, swerves, and falls
And cranes and falls

And so it has been
And so it was edited
Les Miserables comes off as kind of nice.
Yes it might falter and it might fall
It does suffice.


(and now the montage)

One song more
Another tune
Another chance to hear
The actors try to sing with clarity
Their singing is not such a crime
They manage to keep decent time
One song more.

--I did not know before today
--How much I missed the Sound of Music

One song more

--And all their pre-recorded songs
--As they were singing in the mountains

One song for the ingénuuuuuuue
She's not famous but she will beeeeee
She can sing and she is cuuuuuute
She sings barefoot in the raaaaaaain.

--One more song for cute young students
(they don't do that stupid march)
--To make all the tween girls scream
(two steps forward, two steps back)
--Must google when I get home
(they can sing really welllllll)
--they are like a teenage dream

Who is that guy?
He’s really cute
One song more!

Now it's cutting really quickly
Between all the different folks
Everyone must sing sincerely
There's no time or space for jokes.

One song more!

-The score is all motifs
-Here’s yet another one
-With comical relief
-And some determined fun
-Here a little peep
-There a little touch
-Most of them ain’t deep
-And so you don’t miss much

One song til a new beginning
Every man will be king
Or if they wish they’ll be a queen
There's a new way to do musicals
Well an old way in montage
Do you hear the students sing?

The time is now
The place is here

One
Song
More!

Jumble Jumble Jumble
Jumble Jumble Jumble
Jumble Jumble Jumble
Jumble Jumble Jumble

Tomorrow we will hear the song
Repeat over in our heads.
One more day
One day more
ONE SONG MORRRRRRRRE!

(taking it down)

God on high,
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have sometimes been there

It is long
With no breaks
My foot's asleep
I need to pee.

Let it end.
Let it end.
Let it end.

It's not as bad as Tree of Life
The end with everyone on shore
The waves rolled in one by one
And rolled out one by one
My diet coke, it was all gone.

Cut some songs
Cut some scenes
Get us there
With less flair.

And if I cry, let me cry.
Let me live.
Let it end.
Let it end.
Bring
It
Hommmmmme.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10484  
Back when I was on the Camino, I discovered how nice it was to unplug from the interweb. I could walk in the open air and breathe without popup ads. When I went on the web, I became overwhelmed and realized I needed to balance the convenience of the web with life in three dimensions.

Now, several months later, I am still trying to unplug or at the very least find a livable balance. Because I work on an older computer, it likes crash or slow down occasionally. Sometimes, I just roll with it. Sometimes, I get fist-clenching frustrated.

Yesterday, the computer decided to slow down in the middle of an MS Word document. The hard drive spun and grinded. I ended up shouting ALL I WANT TO DO IS ADD THREE WORDS at the screen. At that point, I realized I needed a break.

I went to my favorite coffee shop and ordered a hot chocolate. My favorite coffee shop is a civilized place. My hot chocolate came in a porcelain cup.

Sitting at a table, I started writing with a pen and chilling out my internal vibe when I heard a guy at the next table vent some wifi frustration. I guess it was that kind of day. He eventually solved his wifi problem and was soon typing away.

Still it was good for me to unplug for a few hours. It was good to go out and taste the chocolate. It was good to sit among human beings and look at real clouds. Sure most of them were plugged in, but that's okay. I've noticed folks with smart phones like looking at them a lot. I look at my phone a lot---I like to play games on it.

I'm trying not to be always connected to everything. I don't want to live my life knowing everything immediately. I don't mind the lag time.

When I go back to my laptop, the background is usually a nice photo of a landscape I walked through. I still think the real deal is better. For now, I have pictures as I grind my hard drive to get back to the world of three dimensions.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/sunshine_jen.asp?id=10483
Argo, The Master, Skyfall, Lincoln, Silver Linings Playbook, Flight

There are a lot of guys in movies right now. Guy guys. Guys who are strong yet vulnerable. Guys who are cool yet emotionally wounded. Guys who get the job done. It's a good time to be a guy in movies. Even though the going might be rough, the guys usually get through it okay. At the very least, they'll get laid.

Argo is both directed by and stars Ben Affleck. I am not an Affleck hater. I thought he stole every scene of Good Will Hunting, but he was a doomed movie star. He's at his best when he's playing off his fellow actors in a role that doesn't draw attention to himself.

Affleck plays the lead character in Argo, but the other actors are the stars. His character has a job to do (the job is an important guy guy trait). He has to get six Americans hiding in Iran out of the country. To do this, he has to create a fake movie, so that they can pretend to be a Canadian film crew and leave. Will he get them out? We know he gets them out since Argo is based on recent history. However, I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat. How the heck will he get them out?

I saw the film with a Los Angeles crowd who laughed heartily at the Hollywood/fake movie scenes and tour de force performances by John Goodman and Alan Arkin. To me, the film got the most interesting when it focused on the six Americans in hiding. They were really really scared---not horror film scared, real people scared. When Affleck's character showed up to get them out, I worried not for Affleck who was just this guy guy doing his job, but for the six. Did they have it in them to get on the plane? Will they find the confidence to be Canadian?

The Master has a lot of confidence as a film. I liked Paul Thomas Anderson's last film, There Will Be Blood, because it didn't reach out and beg me to like it. It also had Daniel Day Lewis. The Master has the heroic trio of Philip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phoenix, and Amy Adams. If you were to reduce it to a formula: (PSH+JP)/AA=DDL/PD with PD equaling Paul Dano.

The Master is a fiction based loosely on the founding of scientology. It has not one but two guy guys. There's Freddie, the younger/son/James Dean-esque guy guy. He's played by Joaquin Phoenix who has so much power in his powerlessness that you wonder why he would need a master. He stumbles into the world of the Master (not to be confused with Master Blaster) the older/father/Orson Welles-esque guy guy. He's played by Philip Seymour Hoffman who should just have his own acting award category.

You will either love or hate The Master. It's audacious and bold. It's a film about a America that looks and feels like no other American film. It takes on a sexuality and man's place in the universe.

But. . .but. . .

Somewhere in the middle, I lost interest. During the some of the Master's exercises, I felt I was watching a bad acting class. I wasn't getting enough variation on the theme of man and his master. Still, I held on until the end. I won't tell you how it ends, but The Master ends well. There are no milkshakes.

Skyfall ends, then ends, then ends. However, this is an ending that involved Daniel Craig, Javier Bardem, Ralph Fiennes, the great Judi Dench, and lots of explosions and stuff.

James Bond is back. He is fifty (the series is fifty years old). He is old and popping pills. He has failed all his physical tests. He looks like he hasn't seen a carb in months. But M (Judi Dench) believes in him. M knows he can do his job. He might not be qualified but saving the world from an evil mastermind requires qualities not found on a resume.

I love how Daniel Craig's Bond runs---focused like a soldier. He's not a romantic and deals only with the essentials. And yes, he's hot.

Wait, I need a moment. Okay.

I enjoyed spending two hours watching Daniel Craig and Judi Dench do their thing. Of all the women in the three Daniel Craig Bond films, M is not only the only woman who matches him. She dominates him. She knows who he is and lets him be. He is the international playboy super spy. She is the government bureaucrat and (oh yes) his boss. Who says a sexy woman has to be twenty and a super model? What if she's seventy something?

Doris Kearns Goodwin actually admitted that she found Lincoln sexy on the Stephen Colbert show.

Spielberg's Lincoln, played by Daniel Day Lewis (aha! I knew he'd pop up eventually), is tall and listens a lot---most of the time with his back to the camera in silhouette. I could see how he could be a thinking woman's sexy ideal. He's such a presidential guy guy. He's got a job to do---he's gotta end slavery and the Civil War. All he has to do is get the 13th Amendment to pass through congress (spoiler alert: it passed). Meanwhile, his son wants to enlist, his wife has headaches, his youngest son is obsessed with slave portraits, and the White House in winter is cold.

Lincoln---he's just this guy or is he? Spielberg never lets us forget that Lincoln is LINCOLN even with Daniel Day-Lewis doing his best to not be iconic or too actorly.

The film gets really fun when we go to the House of Representatives and get to watch Tommy Lee Jones as Thaddeus Stevens call a right honorable gentleman opposing the Amendment a reptile. That's some crazy democracy.

Films and plays about mental illness annoy me---usually because they are filled with pyschobabble and actors doing their best to act crazy to win awards. All of the characters in Silver Linings Playbook are crazy, but they are all trying to act as normal as possible.

Bradley Cooper (yes, Bradley Cooper, he can act) plays the lead character, Pat, as if he's not crazy at all even though he's popping meds, just came out of a mental hospital, and goes running with a trash bag over himself (it burns more calories). Still, Pat looks at the world and it all makes sense to him. He has a plan. He just has to keep a positive attitude.

When Pat meets a young depressed widow named Tiffany (greatest meeting of name and character in recent memory) played by Jennifer Lawrence, he doesn't necessarily find a kindred spirit but someone who takes him as he is.

Comedy in David O. Russell movies tends to sneak up on me. He takes us into worlds which are slightly off. Like in The Fighter and I Heart Huckabees, I found myself laughing with the characters not at them.

He also is not afraid to show family in all its complex wackiness. There's no it's-all-your-fault-mom-and-dad scene. There's no easy cure. Characters are who they are. And someday the Philadelphia Eagles will win it all.

From Philadelphia, we travel down to Atlanta, the setting of Flight directed by Robert Zemeckis and starring Denzel Washington. I usually avoid addiction films because they are self-righteous and filled with actors doing their best to act drunk/stoned to win awards.

But there's something about Denzel Washington. Even when he's stumbling around with eyes glazed over, he is still the most handsome man on film. He plays an airline pilot who manages to land a broken plane and save almost everyone on board. Yes, he is a guy guy. His name is Whip Whitacker. Great guy guy name. One small detail: he had raided the vodka in the drink cart right before the crash.

The crash happens in the beginning of the film and is pretty exciting. Don't worry, we don't get an excess of crash flashbacks with the pilot sitting up in bed in a cold sweat. Instead, Whip must face a government investigation and scrutiny from the press. Fortunately, he gets laid and has a supply of cheap booze.

Someone once told me in a bar that a sign of alcoholism is that you don't taste the booze, and Whip drinks down some atrocious tasting booze. I especially appreciated the Ketel One shown in close up. I've never been a Ketel One fan. By the way, if there was an acting award for inanimate objects, I would give it to the booze bottles in Flight. Denzel Washington looks at them with such love, but they don't love him back.

So who is the guy guy of the year? Well, the year's not over yet. I'm gonna stop here before the hobbit and his gang along with the singing Wolverine and Gladiator show up.
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