Memories & Beowolf

Went to the Mall today. Got there terribly early because I'm pathologically afraid of being late. The shops weren't open yet so I sat, drinking my diet Coke and watched people. Normally I avoid the Mall, I detest crowds, plus holiday shopping becomes a showcase for the worst manners that human beings display (rather ironic-it's supposed to be a season of "peace on earth, goodwill to man"-ever hit the parking lot of a shopping center 3 days before Christmas?). So...I go to the Mall, park myself and what does my wandering eye see? A line of children and parents lining up in front of Santa's Workshop. This touches me with a twinge of sadness because deep down, I have always wanted to have my picture taken with Santa. As dearly as I loved my Mom, she never had the patience and my father was too damned cheap but I can remember as a child how I really wanted to sit on Santa's knee and tell him all the gifts I wanted that year. Never had the chance. I can remember one year my grandfather dressed up as Santa (at the time I thought he WAS the real deal) and to this day I will never forget the joy and wonder seeing Father Christmas in my living room. I miss the childlike glee, racing downstairs to see what's under the tree; smelling my Mom's Buckwheat pancakes (a Christmas morning delight), and the anticipation on Christmas eve, wondering if I'll ever hear those reindeer hooves on the roof?

Memories like Christmas, are special. It's not about the price tag or the amount of gifts that are received..it's about the creation of a memory which can never be taken away, won't break, won't run out of batteries or go out of fashion. As an adult, one of my fondest memories is from the Chistmas after my Mom died. We all gathered at my baby sister's house and I made the stuffing for the turkey (I was the only one who got the recipe from Mom). I had a terrible cold that year and sounded remarkably like Vin Diesel. I mixed the bread cubes, celery, onions and sage. I cook by sense of smell, not very orthodox but usually I'm spot on-this year however, I couldn't smell a thing and kept adding sage, more sage, and more sage to the stuffing until it was a lively shade of green. It was horriffic yet, my family, bless them, ate it. I sit here giggling about it and the loving way my family gives me shit, "Do you remember that year of Should I Add More Sage to the Stuffing...?" Sends us all into fits of laughter, good memories.

Onto Beowolf...interesting concept, enjoyed the movie, loved the story but disliked the RAMPANT Photoshopping of the entire cast...took away from the performances. When I see a film, I want to see dirt, grime, wrinkles, zits, farts etc...I don't want to see the cover of Cosmo. It's a bummer that they chose that particular route to take with such a wonderful hero story. Instead of firey performances it was a big screen filled with CGI expressionless statues. Wait for the rental.