Monsoon Martin's Quick Winter Weather Update
Monsoon Martin's Red Robin, Red Robin Forecast
Monsoon Martin’s Red Robin, Red Robin Forecast
Monday, 3 December 2007
First, the weather…
Monday 12/3 very windy, mostly cloudy and cold with a few breaks for sun possible in the afternoon. Sustained winds of 25 to 35mph with gusts above 50mph are expected. High today 42, low tonight 22 with a few flurries in the area.
Tuesday 12/4 partly to mostly sunny, windy and colder. High 35, low 21.
Wednesday 12/5 cloudy and cold with snow showers and flurries in the afternoon, accumulating a coating to a half-inch at most. High 34, low 24.
Thursday 12/6 sunny and clear with increasing cloudiness late. High 37, low 25.
Friday 12/7 mostly cloudy with rain and snow showers in the afternoon, with no appreciable accumulation. High 40, low 28.
The weekend a bit more (seasonably) mild with highs in the low to mid 40s and lows in the upper 20s.
Next week colder toward midweek with highs on Thursday and Friday barely getting above freezing and overnight lows in the teens.
Beyond still cold, but no major winter storms on the horizon.
I first want to congratulate the Governor Mifflin Mustangs football squad, along with my coach and colleague Mick Vecchio, on an outstanding 12-2 season. Mifflin's accomplishments were undiminished by Saturday’s District championship loss to an astonishingly talented Harrisburg team in Hersheypark Stadium. Mick’s 100th win as a head coach will just have to wait until Mifflin’s next game—in August 2008 against rival Wilson!
The highlight of the evening was my first ever visit to a Red Robin restaurant. Red Robin, for the uninitiated, claims to be the World’s Greatest Gourmet Burger Makers. As some of you know, I am a connoisseur of hamburgers and therefore felt it was incumbent upon me to confirm or refute the veracity of this extravagant claim. I even participated in a burger study out at OSU for which I was paid little and fed cold burgers, but in which I got the thrilling opportunity to expound on the thickness, texture, and juiciness of the various specimens to my heart’s content.
The restaurant’s décor is typical good-time strip-mall fare: quirky photos, loud signs, a cacophony of sight and sound. One unusual touch was a television monitor built into the floor of the waiting area; this was negated, however, by a loud and cramped game room that featured a game called “Buck Hunter.” The physical layout of the restaurant is extremely poor, with cramped walkways leaving very little room to wait for a table (our wait was just over 20 minutes) or maneuver around—say, to the lavatory, which was located in a terribly inconvenient place, was filthy, and had a very slippery floor that almost caused Monsoon to do a split at a very inopportune moment.
Seated at long last, we found our waitress to be attentive; she brought our drink requests in a reasonable amount of time. We settled in to peruse the menu, which was an oversized laminated job with cutesy entrée names and lots of colorful graphics. One of my dining companions ordered the Royal Red Robin Burger, which is essentially a standard bacon cheeseburger topped with a fried egg. Other choices included burgers topped with jalapenos, crumbled bleu cheese, guacamole, pickle relish, grilled pineapple, and much more.
Since this was going to be my virgin voyage into the world of Red Robin, I thought it best to sample its claim to fame, its signature burger: the Red Robin Bacon Cheeseburger (henceforth, RRBC), which the menu claims is the “best bacon cheeseburger in the world.” It arrived in approximately 12 minutes, which seemed to take longer than other tables around us but was not an inordinate amount of time. And now I shall pronounce my judgment on the RRBC:
The RRBC is among the top ten bacon cheeseburgers my mouth has ever had the good fortune to wrap itself around. (Of the others, two certainly are to be had at Fuddruckers and the Cracker Barrel; the remaining ones’ names escape me, but are not franchises. Mrs. Monsoon, do you recall?)
The burger was done medium, just as I had ordered it, topped with tomatoes, lettuce, a light slathering of mayonnaise, bacon, and cheese. The nicest, most thoughtful touch (especially for a fussy-pants like me) was that the hind third of the burger was wrapped in wax paper, making it easy to hold without having burger grease, mayo and viscous cheeselets dripping onto the hand.
The burger featured in the photo above contains onions and onion rings under the burger; mine did not contain such ingredients. The photo is included for illustrative purposes only.
The RRBC seamlessly blended these ingredients into a beefy, juicy treat for the palate. The bun was nice, though it had sesame seeds, and if I had my druthers, there would have been none. The lettuce was of the shredded variety, which I normally eschew, but it worked fine in the context of the sandwich. The tomatoes were “end slices,” which should be discarded, but the restaurant was very busy and such trifles reasonably (but inexcusably) get lost in the shuffle. The cheese and bacon were outstanding, though not the best I have ever had. Finally, the “bottomless” fries—so-called because one can apparently continue ordering and eating said side items until one explodes or dies—were nice. Thick and potatoey, but also crisp on the exterior. Quite satisfying.
And although the cost of the burgers ($8.99 for most burgers, including the RRBC; more for “Knife and Fork” burgers or other specialty items) was a bit dear, the sight of seeing my perplexed colleague serenaded with a birthday song—though it wasn’t her birthday—due to my actions was priceless. (Happy Red Robin Birthday, Karen!!)
Over all, I was pleased and will return at a time when the establishment might be a bit less jam-packed with overeaters—and on such a visit, I might try some of the more exotic toppings (like, say, onion rings). On a scale of one to ten, then:
Ambiance 5
Bathrooms 3
Value 7
Service 8
Burger 8.5
Monsoon
Monsoon Martin's Weekend Update and Go Mustangs! Forecast
Monsoon Martin's Weekend Update and Go Mustangs! Forecast
Friday, 30 November 2007
Weather narrative: Sunny and cool today; a cold front will move through this evening, ushering in (as the name suggests) colder temperatures. Saturday looks to be quite chilly with highs only reaching the upper 30s and a stiff northeast wind blowing. Snow showers may develop after midnight and continue overnight ahead of a winter weather system heading into the area.
On Saturday night, Governor Mifflin will play Harrisburg at Hershey Stadium for the Class 3/6-AAAA football championship. As the game begins (7pm), we’ll see mostly cloudy conditions and a temperature of 34, with wind chills in the upper 20s. Clouds will increase and temperatures will slip to (or even just below) freezing as the game goes on, but I am confident that precipitation will hold off until the game ends and everyone gets home safe and sound. If I might also offer another prediction for Saturday night: Governor Mifflin 21, Harrisburg 16.
Now to the winter weather system that has had everyone buzzing this week: I think, over all, it’s going to be a disappointment. Here’s what to expect…morning snow showers, mixing with sleet by 8 or 9am, then turning to rain by the noon and continuing as rain through the early evening. Precipitation will taper by late evening, but cloudy conditions will persist. Accumulations will be negligible everywhere but the northern Lehigh Valley and Pocono region. My call is an inch to an inch and a half of snow Sunday morning for most of my forecast area, with steadier rain washing it away later.
Monday’s looking like a windy, bitterly cold day with a very cold start, so there’s a chance some of the precipitation that falls on Sunday will freeze on Monday morning. For that reason, I’ll cover my bases with a 20% chance of school delays for Monday. The weather for Monday looks like this: mostly cloudy with a slight chance of a flurry or brief snow shower in the morning; then a slight chance of drizzle or a spot of rain in the afternoon. Quite windy with WNW winds 16-20mph, gusting above 25. High 40, low 26. Wind chill values will be in the teens in the morning and the 20s for much of the day.
The rest of the week will be cold with highs only in the mid 30s as we see the coldest temperatures so far this season. I’m looking at Thursday for a possible system, but I don’t think it’s anything to get alarmed about. The conditions just aren’t right yet for a “big one.”
Cold for the following weekend, too, with highs only getting into the low to mid 30s.
And the following week will see…you guessed it…more of the same.
Beyond the forecast: Still very cold—unseasonably so—with snow possible on Thursday the 13th into Friday the 14th. Then warming slightly to “normal” temperatures for this time of year (highs in the low to mid 40s; lows in the mid to upper 20s).
Monsoon
Monsoon Martin's "I am Beowulf!" and "I am Going to Kill Your Grendel!" Forecast
Beowulf in 3D
Directed by Robert Zemeckis
2 ¾ stars (yeah, it says two and three quarters; it was better than two and a half, but not quite as good as three full stars…my rating system, people)
This stunning, randy, and ultimately perplexing film deserves to be evaluated on three levels, it seems to me: visually; as action-adventure; and in comparison with its source material. If you’ll indulge me, I’ll unlock my word-hoard and discuss each of these in its turn. (The forecast appears at the end of my review.)
The Spectacle
First, I went with Meka and OMG to see this film in breathtaking 3D at a local theater, where we were given stylish(ish) black polarized glasses—no blue and red cardboard jobs here.
It was simply the most accomplished use of 3D I have ever seen in movies. The composition of the shots showed a deep knowledge of how to maximize the three-dimensional effect, with objects in the foreground, middle, and background. Shots of characters flying through the air through trees and worm’s-eye shots showing a vast expanse of pebbles on the shore were particularly arresting. There were times when the 3D effect seemed gratuitous—and I can’t imagine how strange some of the shots might have looked when viewed in traditional format, in which the film is playing at lots of places around the country—but it was still just amazing. [Incidentally, one of the previews shown prior to Beowulf was for an upcoming release called U23D which, as the name suggests, is a concert film shot entirely in hyperstereo. I am so there! And I just heard on CNN that George Lucas is remastering the original Star Wars films (from 1977 through 1983) using enhanced 3D technology, for release sometime in the 2010s!]
The flip-side of the visual palette was the filmmakers’ choice to use computer-generated characters based upon the likenesses of the actors playing the roles. In some cases, the characters looked damn near human (and/or lifelike); the strongest renderings were Hrothgar (Anthony Hopkins), Wiglaf (Brendan Gleeson), and Unferth (John Malkovich, in a deliciously slimy role). In addition, the monster Grendel was outstanding in its ideation (since the poem gives us little clue as to what he looks like) and its realistic depiction: Grendel looked like a ten-foot tall human being that had been horribly turned inside-out, complete with an eardrum on the outside of his head. Crispin Glover’s neo-Old Englishy mushmouthed delivery managed to make us simultaneously fear and sympathize with the creature.
The computer generation did not work nearly as well, however, with the female characters; it seemed as though the animators excelled at rendering the stubble, wrinkles, and crags of the male characters but were at a loss when handling the lovely, unblemished visages of Grendel’s mother (Angelina Jolie) and Wealhtheow (Robin Wright-Penn), they succeeded only in making them look plasticene and artificial.
The Screenplay
As an action-adventure film, it hit just the right notes of drama lightened with salacity and campiness. The dialogue was, for the most part, a disappointment, consisting as it did of grand, growling speeches and thuddingly repetitive pronouncements (“I am Beowulf!” at least five times; “You are Beowulf!” at least three times), interspersed with bawdy, throwaway humor. There was precious little dialogue during the battles, which was actually a relief. But lines like “I am going to kill your Grendel!” and “I don’t like the smell of this”—the latter, spoken by trusted friend Wiglaf while standing over a naked, recumbent Beowulf, who awaits Grendel’s arrival—are unintentionally funny for a variety of reasons. The battles, though, were exciting, and the plot contrivances (departing wildly from the epic poem, which I’ll deal with later) were not too distracting.
The Acting
The acting was difficult to evaluate on its own merits because of the aforementioned clunking script with which the performers were saddled. But I’d say the most convincing and accomplished performances were turned in by John Malkovich as Unferth, who disses Beowulf in front of the whole mead hall, and Brendan Gleeson as Wiglaf, Beowulf’s trusty and world-weary advisor. Everyone else was fair to middling except for Angelina Jolie, who imbued Grendel’s mother with all the personality of a Styrofoam mannequin and employed a bizarre and distracting accent that sounded like a cross between a breathy Scotch and Lithuanian. Ray Winstone’s Beowulf was appropriately gruff and self-aggrandizing, though his character’s six-pack abs and rippling guns are a bit amusing considering the pot-bellied, hard-living nature of Winstone (Sexy Beast, The Departed) himself.
The Ribaldry
Let me say a word about the PG-13 rating here: it mighta shoulda been R. I had been planning to take my senior English students (who read Beowulf earlier this school year) to see the film, and was very quickly glad I had not done so. First there’s the gore—prodigious volumes of blood, much of it dripping or cascading at the viewer thanks to the 3D effect; severed limbs and heads; and so on. Then there’s the randy language and references, including one to Beowulf’s “third leg” (his grip was not the only superhuman thing about him, apparently) and a scop singing about only “getting a wank” when he’d been hoping to have copulate with a young lass. There’s also an ongoing and completely useless series of scenes involving one of Beowulf’s men lusting after a terrifically busty Danish woman in a low-cut gown—who is shown washing a table and moaning while her pendulous breasts sway about for at least 20 gratuitous seconds while this character salivates—and then practically forcing himself upon her outside the mead-hall.
Finally, there’s the nudity. Now, I’m no prude, and it was all CGI effects (in other words, no actual nude humans were filmed during the making of the movie, I suppose), but it was a bit much. In the poem, Beowulf fights Grendel with no weapons; in the movie, the screenwriters thought it necessary to have Beowulf fight the monster completely naked. (Everything I’d heard about the Austin Powers-esque concealment of Beowulf’s…ah…third leg was absolutely true. The crew I was with laughed heartily throughout an action sequence in which Beowulf’s manhood kept being inexplicably and improbably obscured by objects and people.) In another sleeping sequence, everyone is nearly or completely naked. (Aren’t they in a Scandinavian climate here? Wouldn’t they be more fully covered up, especially at night?) And then there’s Angelina Jolie as Grendel’s mother (who is a hideous monster, but can shape-shift to become hot when the occasion calls for it, apparently). She’s nude throughout her two major scenes, though she’s dripping with gold, barely obscuring her nipples, and her nether regions appear to have no genitals (despite the fact that she seems to be on the verge of having intercourse with a major character as one scene fades to black). On the whole, I’d have to say the level of nudity was uncalled-for and even silly—and again, may have warranted an R rating.
The Source Material
And that brings us to the third level on which the film must be evaluated—in comparison with its source material. Full disclosure: I have taught this book for seven years, and in recent years have begun teaching the newest, full translation by Seamus Heaney, which I consider to be a work of art in its own right. Also…I’ve tried to keep “spoilers” out of my discussion of the film thus far, but in order to compare the epic poem and movie adequately, I must reveal key plot points in the poem and film. It is for this reason that I will insert a “spoiler space” below when I am about to discuss sensitive details: so no one will be confronted with unwanted details that might give away plot twists and surprises in the movie.
So. Beowulf is, for the uninitiated, the first piece of recorded literature in the English language. It is known for its hero, obviously, but also for its intriguing blend of pagan and Christian elements, which is due to the fact that it was told or sung orally for hundreds of years before being written down by a monk sometime between 800 and 1000 CE.
It is infinitely interesting, with a sprawling array of characters discussed in the lineages of the Danes, the Geats, the Frisians, and Heathobards, the Swedes, and others. I highly recommend picking up the Seamus Heaney translation from Old to Modern English:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0393320979
Fatalism and Boasting
The chief objection I have to this adaptation is the fact that it vitiates the cultural foundation of the epic poem: fatalism. Anglo-Saxon culture in the sixth through eighth centuries (when this tale is roughly set) was brutal. Anglo-Saxons were preoccupied by the conception of life as a constant struggle for fame and honor (not to mention simple survival), and their stories reflected this: men are either preparing to fight, fighting, or drinking to forget the fighting after it’s done. Women appear in the text of Beowulf only briefly—and then only to serve the warriors or get married off to a Heathobard to settle a feud.
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In the movie, however, women affect the action much more directly. In the poem, Beowulf never marries or seems to have a romantic interest of any kind (again, romance and repose are absent from typical Anglo-Saxon literature). In the movie, Beowulf arrives in Denmark and immediately begins lusting after Hrothgar’s wife, Wealhtheow, whom he eventually marries, but with whom he never produces an heir; he also keeps at least one paramour—Alison Lohman’s character, whose presence seemed pointless—and mentions several times that one of his motivations (and a notable “perk” of power) is the women. Blasphemy!
The bit involving Unferth challenging Beowulf about his swimming contest with Breca was fairly accurate, except for a couple of important details. In the poem, Beowulf swims the entire four-day contest in full armor; in the movie, he’s nearly naked (again!). And in the poem, Beowulf explains that he lost to Breca because he (Beowulf) had to fight off some sea dragons; in the film, this explanation is called into question as Beowulf is depicted quitting the race to fight sea monsters, but becoming distracted and sinking to the bottom of the sea to knock boots with a mermaid. In fact, it is noted several times in the film that Beowulf is exaggerating about his exploits or outright lying; in the epic poem, his outlandish claims are always presented as fact, and his boasting as justified representation of his fantastic achievements.
Paganism vs. Christianity
In the film, Grendel spoke using a quasi-Old English accent (though there were few other “authentic” Old English touches, like kennings and alliteration, which define the poetic structure of the source material), but what I really liked about the depiction of Grendel was his outtie-eardrum. It helped to explain why the partying from Heorot drove him to visit the mead hall and kill the men; however, it also weakened the pagan-Christian dichotomy laid out in the poem. Grendel is said to be descended from Cain, and therefore evil; the men in Heorot were singing tales of Creation, according to the poem, causing this evil creature physical pain.
Speaking of religion, there were a couple of scenes in which it seemed the screenwriters were actually making an effort to be true to the poem’s roots: it was developed and passed down orally by pagan Anglo-Saxons, then written down by a Christian monk, who inserted Christian references. When the Danes are trying to figure out how to deal with the scourge of Grendel, one of his advisors says they are making sacrifices to the pagan gods. He then asks Hrothgar if they should “pray to the new Roman god, Christ Jesus” as well. Hrothgar scoffs (as a true Anglo-Saxon in the 600s would have) and says his people have to find a way to help themselves.
There is another problematic element relating to religious depiction. In the poem, Grendel is described both as a monster and as a descendant of Cain, who killed his brother Abel and became the most cursed figure in the Old Testament. In the movie, Unferth’s servant is named “Cain” and is beaten often by Unferth; ultimately he steals the dragon-horn from the cave and awakens the fire dragon to set up the film’s penultimate battle. Is this Cain, as in Bible Cain? Or is his name just a coincidence? And what of Grendel’s lineage, then? Ah, but that’s for later…
Speaking of lineage, there’s very little talk of pedigree here. Hrothgar is introduced in the poem only after several generations of his predecessors are described. Beowulf’s king, Hygelac, and his queen, Hygd, are featured when Beowulf returns to his homeland, but never appear in the film. I realize they had to cut lots of stuff out, and I wasn’t expecting to see Ingeld or Heorogar or Shield, but still. A little authenticity, man.
The Big Twist
Alright, I’ve put it off long enough. This is the part that really contains the spoilers, so you’ve been warned a second time.
In the epic poem Beowulf, the action begins with a brief account of Shield, an orphan who became a Danish king; when he dies, he is set upon a ship and surrounded by his treasures, then sent out to sea. The narrator then traces the lineage from Shield to his son Beow, to his son Halfdane, and finally to his son Hrothgar, who ascends to the throne and is a generous, kind king. Hrothgar builds a great mead hall called Heorot, where much rejoicing and celebration takes place until the monster Grendel (a descendant of Cain) enters and smashes thirty men, after which Heorot stands empty for twelve years.
Beowulf, a Geat, hears about the scourge of Grendel and travels to Denmark offering to rid them of this beast. Seeking only glory and increased fame—which in the Anglo-Saxon worldview represented the only path to immortality—Beowulf faces Grendel with no weapons and slays the beast by ripping his arm off and hanging it from the rafters.
After brooding on her loss, Grendel’s mother attacks Heorot, killing Hrothgar’s trusted associate Aeschere and taking her son’s arm; Beowulf, who was sleeping elsewhere at the time, is dispatched to confront the she-demon in her lair at the bottom of a lake. (Unferth, who had earlier challenged Beowulf, gives him a sword to use called Hrunting.) After fighting off sea beasts and failing to kill her using Hrunting, Beowulf succeeds in vanquishing Grendel’s mother using a mystical giants’ sword, then lops the head off Grendel’s corpse as a trophy. He presents the head to Hrothgar, who rewards him richly. (Note: nothing is ever said about who Grendel’s father is, or why no one ever heard from him.)
Beowulf then returns to his homeland where he describes his exploits to Hygelac, his king; eventually Beowulf ascends to the throne and rules in relative peace and prosperity for fifty years. When Beowulf, king of the Geats, is an old man, an unnamed thief steals a golden cup from an ancient treasure-hoard guarded by a fire dragon, unleashing the dragon’s fiery fury on the town. Beowulf fights the dragon alone, for he still seeks fame. The young Wiglaf comes to Beowulf’s aid and helps him slay the dragon, but the dragon has fatally wounded the Geat king with a poisonous bite to the neck. Wiglaf chastises the rest of Beowulf’s men for turning tail when their lord needed them most, for the loyalty of one’s thanes to their king was paramount in this culture, and prophecies doom for the Geat nation.
Finally, under Beowulf’s dying orders, a memorial tower is erected—so passing seafarers will recall the glory of Beowulf—his ashes and the dragon’s treasure are placed inside, and his men eulogize him.
And the movie…
By comparison, the movie begins with Heorot being erected and dedicated by Hrothgar, so lineage—such a vital aspect of this culture, establishing each man in a line of great leaders—is lost.
Heorot is attacked by Grendel, who kills an indeterminate number of men; Beowulf arrives boasting and immediately lusting after Hrothgar’s queen (who seems here to feel only disdain toward her slovenly husband). Hrothgar promises Beowulf a dragon-horn and his queen if he can defeat Grendel. Beowulf fights Grendel nude, killing the beast by ripping its arm off. Grendel runs home and tells his mother who killed him just before he shrivels up and dies.
That night, Beowulf is visited in a dream by a beautiful woman, then awakens to find all of his men have been slaughtered. He travels to a pond in the mountains to confront Grendel’s mother, as Hrothgar has told Beowulf whodunit. How does Hrothgar know all this? Because it turns out that Hrothgar slept with Grendel’s mother in a moment of weakness years ago, and is in fact the father of Grendel!!! (This also explains why Grendel would not attack Hrothgar’s throne or person, either in the film or the poem.) When Beowulf arrives to kill Grendel’s mother, she emerges from her lake all nekkid and dripping with gold, and Beowulf apparently has intercourse with her. He also gives her the dragon-horn (no pun intended, guv’na!) and in return Beowulf will be allowed to reign over the Danes with no interference from her. Beowulf heads back to Heorot and lies, outright, to everyone, saying that he killed Grendel’s mother and lost the dragon-horn fighting off some beasts or something. At this point, Hrothgar inexplicably hands over the crown to Beowulf, then leaps off a nearby cliff to his death.
Some years later, when he is still ruling the Danes (not the Geats; he never went home), a thief steals the dragon-horn, unleashing the terrible fury of the fire dragon. Beowulf fights and kills the fire dragon …who turns out to be his own son, conceived with Grendel’s mother during that murky encounter all those years ago!!! Beowulf is killed in a fall, not the dragon’s tusks, as he tries to save his wife Wealhtheow and the “bed-warmer” from a collapsing bridge. (Wiglaf, who played such a pivotal role in the poem, doesn’t do shit here aside from riding around furiously and comically refusing to go into any dangerous situation with Beowulf.) On the shore below, the fire dragon becomes Beowulf’s golden-toned son as both die. The film ends with Beowulf’s burial at sea (a flaming ship—a conflation of the funerals of Shield and Beowulf in the poem) and the temptation of Wiglaf by Grendel’s mother, who rises out of the sea.
Monsoon breaks it down like Buster Brown
Now, aside from the neo-Freudian undertones of all these additions to the plot, there may be something useful about the radical departures taken by the screenwriters. Most obviously, it explains something that is not addressed in the poem: who and where is Grendel’s father? And why does Beowulf never seem to marry, or have an heir?
But on the other hand—and I lean much more strongly this direction—the decision to have Hrothgar father Grendel and Beowulf father the fire dragon is a disastrous one, and more or less tarnishes the true meaning of the epic poem. My objections stem from one question: why must Beowulf be flawed? In the epic poem, he is boastful but resolute and accomplished; brave and glory-seeking but fair and even-minded. He takes solace at the end of this life that he has never had to kill his kin, and that every conflict he entered was done honorably and truly.
The Beowulf in the film is deeply flawed—for no good reason, as I see it. Here is a man who seems to have been lured to Heorot by the promise of reward, and stayed and fought because of the promise of a woman’s love. He is a man who revels in the carnal perks of his celebrity and power. He is a weak man who succumbs to lust in dealing with Grendel’s mother, then rules the Danes for years on the basis of a lie. He marries a woman but builds a loveless, adulterous marriage. And finally, he kills his son in the penultimate battle of the movie, during a battle that was ultimately brought about by his own avarice and covetousness of power. Beowulf the epic hero has become Beowulf, a tragic hero worthy of Shakespeare.
I know I have left some things out of this review, which will no doubt seem implausible to you, dear reader, because of all that I’ve already said (I have never been known for my succinctness). If you’re looking for more concise reviews of the movie, the best I’ve read (meaning the most accomplished and useful reviews, not the most glowing or laudatory) are Roger Ebert’s from the Chicago Sun-Times and Manohla Dargis’ from the New York Times:
http://www.suntimes.com/entertainment/651597,CST-FTR-beowulf15.article
http://movies.nytimes.com/2007/11/16/movies/16beow.html
And now, the forecast, focusing as always on the central and southern Berks and northern Lancaster County region…
Monday 11/26: Cloudy and rainy; rain could be heavy at times. Breezy with rain tapering toward evening and overnight. High 51, low 44.
Tuesday 11/27: Very windy; becoming partly cloudy as the day wears on. High 54, low 28.
Wednesday 11/28: Partly cloudy with clouds increasing toward evening. High 52, low 33.
Thursday 11/29: Clear and seasonably cool with diminishing winds. High 45, low 26.
Friday 11/30: Clear to partly cloudy and continued cool. High 43, low 24.
Saturday 12/1: Rather windy and cold with clear to partly sunny skies. High 40, low 21. At this point it appears as though the Mifflin – Harrisburg District championship game at Hershey will be played in frigid and windy conditions. Look for an update later in the week as more information comes in.
Sunday 12/2: Clear; becoming cloudy late with snow possible, lingering into Monday morning and then mixing with rain throughout the day Monday. It’s too early to discuss amounts or cancellation/delay probabilities; again, stay tuned for updates later in the week. High 36, low 25.
The following week (12/3 through 7): Unseasonably cold with highs in the mid to upper 30s and lows in the low to mid 20s only. Around midweek we’re looking for some more winter precipitation, perhaps in the form of freezing rain.
The following weekend (12/8 and 9) and beyond: Even colder with highs barely reaching freezing and lows dipping well into the teens. Daaaaaaaamn!
Be well…
Monsoon
Flashback Friday - Monsoon Martin's "Hello, Everybodeeeee" Forecast
My friends...once again I'm reaching into the vaults for a classic forecast from nearly two years ago--January 2006. Without further ado, I present...
Monsoon Martin’s “Hello Everybodeeeee” Forecast
Tuesday, 10 January 2006
Hello Everybodeeeee! This is your old pal Grover, and I am very glad you have visited me today! Actually, it is Monsoon, who could not possibly maintain the narrative voice of a blue furry Muppet during the entire forecast. During this unseasonably mild and relatively inactive weather period, I thought I’d take the opportunity to introduce you to the inimitable, the indefatigable, the hirsute, the bright blue…Grover Monster. One of what I call the “original seven” Sesame Street Muppets (along with Big Bird, Count, Oscar, Ernie, Bert, and Cookie Monster), Grover quickly emerged as one of the most beloved figures to come out of the Children’s Television Workshop.
Grover (voiced by the incomparable Frank Oz) is notoriously impulsive, which would often get him into trouble on the show, but really Grover is harmless, utterly sincere, endlessly generous, endearingly vulnerable, and wholly gregarious. Grover (full name Grover Monster) debuted in 1969 at the beginning of Sesame Street’s run, and is 4 years old. Flawed, harried, and always open-minded, Grover helped children understand such concepts as “near” and “far”—he would come right up to the camera and shout “Near!” and then frantically scramble to the background and cry, “Far!” This would repeat until poor G would collapse from exhaustion…
Tuesday night : Increasing cloudiness. Low 35.
Wednesday : Cloudy with possible AM fog or drizzle, followed by afternoon showers. Rain will taper late in the evening with clearing overnight. Unseasonably mild. High 52, low 36.
Thursday : Partly cloudy with plenty of sunshine; continued mild. High 56, low 38. What a perfect day for Super Grover to fly around the city looking for little boys and girls to help out!
Fans of Grover and the gang could catch him away from the telly as well—as I did, with messianic zeal. He featured in a series of well-known books based on his character, the most famous of which was called The Monster at the End of This Book, starring Lovable, Furry Old Grover. Afraid because he doesn’t like monsters (ironically, since he himself is a monster), he implores the reader not to turn each page, which would bring us closer to the monster: “YOU TURNED THE PAGE! Maybe you do not understand. You see, turning pages will bring us to the end of this book, and there is a Monster at the end of this book…” He spends the book trying to prevent the reader from turning each page,
then is relieved to discover that he, in fact, was the monster at the end of the book.
He released a series of critically acclaimed albums (all right, I don’t know if they were critically acclaimed, but I loved them, and still do). One of my favorites is Sesame Street Fever (1978), which features G.M. on the cover striking a stunning Travolta-esque pose:
…and perhaps even more scintillating was the series on the inner sleeve depicting Grover executing some impressive disco dancing moves:
But the seminal work in Grover’s corpus of recorded work is 1974’s Grover Sings the Blues. (The dialogue bubble coming out of Grover’s mouth in the image of the album’s cover below says, “I am so proud!”)
The song “What Do I Do When I’m Alone” resonated with me because as an only child, I was often…alone. The lyrics, in part:
What do I do when I’m alone?
Well sometimes I sing a little song
La la la la la laaaaa
That is the song I sing.
What do I do when I’m alone?
Well sometimes I do a little dance (oh yeah!)
I jump and I hop hop hop
That is my little dance.
He goes on to admit that sometimes when he’s alone he gets a little sad, but generally he is able to enjoy being alone rather than feeling lonely. Grover’s wisdom went beyond helping a person be comfortable in his or her own company, though; one of his most memorable tunes, “Still, We Like Each Other,” is an unbridled celebration of diversity decades ahead of its time—and a lesson on diplomatic interpersonal relations from which some of us could actually benefit:
I have fur that’s blue and fuzzy
You may not have fur that’s blue and fuzzy
Still, we like each other.
I like gooey peanut butter
You may not like gooey peanut butter
Still, we can like each other.
We are friends
You and me
And it doesn’t matter what we look like
Or if sometimes we don’t agree…
‘Cause we are people who are different
People can be very, very different
But still they can like each other.
You have your looks and likes
And I have mine
But still we like each other…
Fine.
The Furry One’s most fabulous (and inept) alter ego was, of course, Super Grover, the feckless but charming “superhero” who debuted on Sesame Street with a crash in 1974. He would try to help, but would usually unintentionally obstruct, rather than solve a problem—leaving the child to figure the problem out for him or herself (and teaching an important lesson about self-sufficiency in the process):
He zooms through the sky,
smarter than a speeding bullet,
furrier than a powerful locomotive,
able to leap tall sandwiches in a single bound!
Is it an eggplant? A meatball?
No! It's Super Grover!
Friday : Partly cloudy; becoming mostly cloudy toward evening. Rain developing late; could be heavy at times. High 57, low 39. You can't stay dry / And you can't have any fun / And that's when rain falls / It's really sort of neat / To hear everybody grumble and complain / When rain falls / It's kind of nice – from “Rain Falls” on Oscar the Grouch’s album, Let a Frown Be Your Umbrella.
Saturday : Rain continuing throughout the day; windy and colder as a front moves through the region. Showers on and off overnight Saturday into Sunday could mix with snow in some places, but accumulations will be negligible. High 47, low 32. Please be sure to take your umbrella!
Sunday : Partly cloudy with gradual clearing; colder with moderate winds persisting. High 37, low 27.
In 1979, an insidious little red menace appeared on Sesame Street, first as a background monster. By the mid 1980s, Elmo had begun to supplant Grover as the show’s most heavily promoted and merchandised cast member. The offenses of this evil furball are myriad and unforgivable. What follows is my list of grievances against Elmo, proving indisputably that Grover is superior to his bushy associate in every possible way.
First, the basics: Elmo Monster is created to mimic the development of a 3½-year-old child. He is not related to four-year-old Grover Monster. They are most emphatically from different monster clans.
Elmo speaks only in third person when referring to himself: “Elmo wants a hug!” Needless to say, this linguistic disorder sets an atrocious example for toddlers just developing their language skills. On the other hand, Grover’s language (and humor) is more sophisticated. He never uses contractions: “It is great to see you” rather than “It’s great to see you.” (Grover only suspended this rule when singing. I know not why.) What a fine example for a child—how to speak properly and respectfully, and to use first person when referring to oneself.
Elmo began to backstab and connive to attain Sesame Street supremacy in the mid 1980s and never looked back. The new segment “Elmo’s World” is evidence of his furtive plan for world domination. His showy, pretentious, hyperactive demeanor has provided inspiration for an entire generation of emerging ADHD children.
In the sequel to The Monster at the End of This Book, Elmo horns in on Grover’s franchise; at the end of this book (above) Grover discovers that Elmo is, in fact, the monster at the end—and that Elmo is positioning himself to make his old pal Grover obsolete. “Aiiieeee!!” means “Et tu, Elmo?” in Portuguese.
Elmo is the “poor man’s” Grover—the far inferior “new kid on the block.” His incessant, raspy whine is incredibly grating. Whereas Grover had authentic, natural rapport in his unscripted conversations with children, Elmo is consistently patronizing and screechy in such interactions.
Grover’s alter ego, Super Grover, can fly. Elmo cannot fly, nor does he have any superpowers whatsoever.
Elmo frequently visited the Rosie O’Donnell Show. This is perhaps as damning an indictment of Elmo’s shrillness and nefariousness as there is.
Blue state, red state. Grover, Elmo. ‘Nuff said.
Grover has never allowed himself to be adulterated by the marketeers at Children’s Television Workshop. Stuffed animals, cups, linens, clothing…but never did Grover consent to be used for a ridiculous moving or singing doll. No shucking and jiving for Grover. Elmo, on the other hand, has been made into all manner of horrid mechanical toys, beginning with Christmas craze Tickle Me Elmo in the 1990s. The litany of Elmo’s minstrelsy has included Rock & Roll Elmo, Limbo Elmo, Hokey Pokey Elmo, the controversial Lambada Elmo, and the ill-fated Tackle Me Elmo.
Elmo means “conniving” in Italian and “discordant” in Dutch; Grover means “noble” in Latin and “endearing” in German.
OK, I made those up. Really, Elmo means “worthy to be loved” in Italian and “protector” in Latin; Grover means “a gardener” in English and “dweller in the grove” in Old English. But I like the other translations because they fit into my argument about Elmo’s worthlessness and malevolence more effectively.
For my final point, I will pose an old-school SAT analogy question to illustrate the fact that Grover is authentic and classic, while Elmo is the inauthentic pretender to his wooly throne:
Grover:Elmo as
a) Led Zeppelin:Lenny Kravitz
b) John Coltrane:Kenny G
c) Walter Cronkite:Anderson Cooper
d) Allen Funt:Ashton Kutcher
e) All of the above ☺
Notice that Elmo is surreptitiously seeking to sabotage the plane’s tailfin, then parachute to safety—and with Grover out of the way, realize Muppet supremacy.
Monday 1/16 : Partly sunny and seasonably cool. High 42, low 30. Sunny day / Sweepin’ the clouds away / On my way / To where the air is sweeeet / Can you tell me how to get / How to get to Sesame Streeeet?
Tuesday 1/17 : Cloudy with some passing rain showers possible, particularly in the morning. I’m keeping an eye on this system, as it could bring us some significant rainfall. It appears at this point that warm air will still be entrenched in our area at this point, keeping all the precipitation in the liquid phase. High 43, low 33.
Future weather : Look for highs generally in the 40s and lows in the 30s—not balmy like this week, but still milder than normal. For those of you who are pining away for snow days and/or delays, I think we’ll be waiting until at least the end of January for any such respite; there are no major snow events in the reasonably foreseeable future. So sorry!
Grover has a special place in my heart not simply because of his shenanigans on Sesame Street, and not merely due to the fact that his initials are the same as mine; Grover was (and is) a grizzled, well-worn, integral part of my family. I can recall having my Grover stuffed animal as early as age three. I was (and would remain) an only child, so playmates were typically scarce. We were inseparable. When I first got him, you see, Grover’s fur was shiny, and his posture rigid. Of course his coat had a deliberate tousled look, considering that one of Grover’s charms was his slightly scruffy and usually clumsy manner—but this was, in the language of collectibles, a near-mint condition stuffed animal.
And then it happened. One fateful evening when I was about 6 years old, I put on my footy pajamas, crawled in between my Peanuts sheets (Snoopy and Woodstock were playing a rather unconventional but quite spirited game of tennis on these linens, I can recall vividly) and green blanket, snuggled up to my Grover stuffed animal, and drifted off into a pleasant slumber. Then: Was it an undercooked pork chop? An excess of American cheese? A touch of the flu? These details are lost to me now, but what I am most certain of—what shattered the serenity of my six-year-old existence—is that I vomited. Copiously. And neither sheets, nor peejays, nor green blanket, nor most tragically Grover Monster, was spared the cruel trajectory of my prodigious regurgitation.
My father rushed in with the basin (a pale yellow vessel that became ubiquitous when one’s stomach was upset)—dear Father! Had not the damage already been done?—and he and my mother set to assessing and scrubbing away the remnants of my vesuvian disgorgement. Soon an emergency load of laundry was agitating away in the basement, in the wee hours of the morning, and newly bejammied and feeling better, I feel quickly asleep.
The next morning, my parents approached me like they had to tell me of the death of a favorite uncle. (I didn’t like any of my uncles, but it’s a simile.) “Glen,” my normally reticent father intoned, “come downstairs to the basement.” On the way outside, then down the steps, my father explained that although the care tag on Grover’s bum had said explicitly DO NOT WASH, they had in fact put him through the most delicate of cycles in an effort to rescue my friend from his pukey fate.
When we entered the dark, dank basement, the atmosphere was that of a postmortem. My mother was standing by the clothesline which ran half the length of the basement, looking grim and obviously bracing herself for my tortured histrionics. Two wooden clothespins held Grover’s miserably flaccid frame. Grover hung there, almost apologetically, like a prematurely wilted flower. His once-rigid neck was now hopelessly limp; his majestic, lustrous fur was now forever matted and dulled; his clear, bold pupils were now severely flaking. Though he was now barf-free, Grover Monster was in a sorry state indeed.
Grover was released from his clothesline intensive-care perch and placed tentatively in my waiting hands. I was in something like shock just now. I held his torso and wanted to look into his eyes—to search for any vestiges of my best friend. To my horror, his head lolled decisively backwards; I screamed, tossed Grover into my father’s arms, and ran upstairs, utterly beside myself with grief. That, I ruminated, had been one fateful hurl.
Thankfully, despite this rocky beginning, I quickly came to regard Grover as affectionately and enthusiastically as I ever had. In fact, I began to view Grover’s rough-hewn appearance with pride; he had weathered a good deal more than most of his stuffed animal contemporaries, and had emerged battle-scarred, but far stronger on the other side. My Nana would observe nearly every time she saw poor Grover: “He looks like he’s been through the war!” (Nana, my mother’s mother, was my favorite blood relative—not just because she was one of the few with whom we had regular contact, but because she was always on my side. When I would misbehave—which was seldom and usually trivial—she would tell my mother, “Oh, it’s just kid fashion.” I miss her.)
On one occasion, circa 1984, I thought it would be super fun to dress up Grover as international pop sensation Michael Jackson. Essentially I clad my furry friend in paper mockups of all the cool clothes I was sure I’d never be able to wear: leather pants with zippers on them, a sweet “V” jacket, oft sported by MJ, wristbands and Converse sneakers (I know MJ didn’t wear Converse typically; I guess I was conflating my desire to be a cool pop star with my desire to be Darryl Dawkins or Dr. J). I think you’ll find that in the picture below (taken by me in my bedroom, cutting off the top of Grover’s head; nice rug, huh?) is virtually indistinguishable from a picture of Thriller-era MJ:
Today, Grover is an indispensable part of the Martins’ lore. The pupil in his left eye is almost completely gone, which I attribute to cataracts. He is pathetically floppy, and his fur is matted and nearly covering his thin red lip, but he’s still, and always, Grover. He went to college and graduate school with me; he has gone on many vacations with us (see picture below of Grover hanging out on the balcony at one such location); he is my true and unwavering friend.
This forecast was brought to you by the letter G and the number 6 (Grover’s favorite number).
Monsoon
Monsoon's Weather Update for 14 November 2007
Here's the second weather post of my new weblog...let me know what you think of this little development in the world of Monsoon...
Weather narrative: After an unseasonably warm day, a cold front will move through starting tonight, and bring with it showers lingering into tomorrow morning. By Friday we’ll see much cooler conditions and strong breezes. Game-time conditions for the Mifflin-Bishop McDevitt game in Shillington will be 40 (falling through the upper 30s during the game) with winds out of the west-northwest at 8 to 12mph (gusting to 15, but diminishing during the game).
The weekend looks cool and nice, with some showers possible on Saturday night. A chance of rain returns on Tuesday, but otherwise the week looks like a nice one, with conditions about normal for this time of year.
Looking ahead to the end of next week, I’m seeing the potential for a couple of really rainy and gross days on Thursday and Friday leading in to cooler weather for the weekend.
Beyond the Forecast: Cold with highs in the upper 30s and lows in the 20s. Not seeing any potential for wintry weather yet…
Monsoon
Monsoon's Quick Weather Update for 11/8/07
Friends,
Below is my first attempt at posting an actual current forecast, complete with my famed WeatherTable. As always, your suggestions are welcomed.
Monsoon
Weather narrative: Continued cool and becoming cloudy tonight into tomorrow. Showers developing late Friday, but I think it’ll hold off until after the football game. (Game time conditions: temperature in the low 40s dipping into the upper 30s, light winds, overcast with showers possible. I’d like to wish good luck to the Mustangs as they play the State College Little Lions!)
Clearing Saturday, then a nice couple of days are in store before some more showers enter the area on Tuesday and Wednesday. Becoming cooler and very nice for the following weekend with highs in the mid 40s and lows at or below 30. A slight warm-up will appear toward Thanksgiving break, but then we’re back down to appropriately autumnal conditions.
Monsoon
Welcome to Monsoon Martin's brand new weblog!
Weather-Friends,
I am pleased and excited to introduce my very own weblog! I will be working out some of the technical issues here at first, as I'm not sure I even have a complete handle on how this works. Your input and suggestions are vital and well appreciated!
I thought I'd present a vintage Monsoon piece as my first post; it's actually the first "themed" forecast I wrote, way back in January 2005 after I'd predicted a coating of snow and several inches had fallen. Only a handful of you have seen this, because at that time I was only sending reports out to members of the Governor Mifflin English Department. Now my mailing list has grown to a glorious 90 members; those who would like to be added to the list and notified when a new post is...posted, email me at monsoonmartin@gmail.com and let me know.
Without further ado...
Stuart Smalley’s A Daily Affirmation Forecast
25 January 2005
I am an awful human being. I am incompetent at meteorology. I was trying to help people, and I only succeeded in putting peoples’ lives in danger. I’m going to die homeless and penniless, and no one will ever love me.
OK, that’s stinkin’ thinkin’, and I shouldn’t do that to myself. I also should have known that in a moisture-saturated upper atmosphere, the snow totals for last night were bound to be greater than the coating I’d predicted. I should have known I’d be shoveling two inches of snow in my driveway on Monday night. I should have foreseen the treacherous roads this morning and the two-hour delay. I should have been the forecaster you all have come to rely on.
But…now I’m shoulding all over myself. And that’s…OK. Well, no it’s not. It’s not OK to should all over myself, but it is OK to forgive myself for doing so. I own my shoulding. Oh, I’m a mess. I feel myself going into a shame spiral. Where’s the Entenmann’s?
Let me start over. It’s time to let all the regret go and be in the moment. As my Al-Anon sponsor says, I am a human being, not a human doing.
The forecast: snow tonight. Now, now…I know that’s not what any of us wants to hear, but it’s not going to help anything to bury our heads in the sand. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.
Partly cloudy today with a high of 33. Snow developing late, but mainly after midnight. Low tonight 21. Accumulations by daybreak ranging from 1 to 3 inches.
Wednesday: light snow showers may appear in the morning and early afternoon, but will not produce any appreciable accumulation. What these snow showers will produce, however, is whining from our students, who will want to be sent home early. And as we all know, whining is just anger coming through a very small opening.
High Wednesday, 33; low, 10. I do not feel any of the precipitation Tuesday night or Wednesday will be “mixed”…it should be all snow.
Chance of delay Wednesday, 55%; chance of cancellation, 10%.
Becoming much colder Wednesday night as the skies clear.
Thursday: mostly sunny; high 20, low 3.
Friday: mostly sunny; high 24, low 12.
Saturday: clouds developing, but that’s…OK. Clouds are not bad or good. They just are. High 33, low 25.
Sunday: precipitation moves into the area in the morning, potentially continuing into Monday. At this point, it appears that at least some of this will be “mixed”—rain, snow, and sleet. Conditions Monday could be a bit tricky. It’s difficult to pinpoint amounts and precipitation type this far ahead of the storm. (And that’s…OK. Sometimes we have to put on our fuzzy slippers, curl up on the couch, and pour ourselves a cup of uncertain-tea.)
Whew. This has been a fantastic forecast. And do you know why I was able to produce such a fantastic forecast? Because I’m good enough, I’m smart enough…and doggone it, I can prognosticate super well.
Stuart “Monsoon” Smalley