You’re better off watching this when it hits cable.

In other words, it’s all right, some of the jokes are funny, but none of it makes you care for the characters or their predicament, and the story doesn’t really know where to go when and what to emphasize when it gets there. It’s kind of a mess — but the jokes? They are always front and center, funny or not.

link

Decent enough, but not really anything realy, really good (Seabiscuit, a story you could say is the equine equivalent, does it way better with the same amount of sap).

The actors act all right, the story is compelling, but the way the movie runs — it just doesn’t get you excited. Good bits, okay bits, lots of dull bits.

Worth a matinee.

link

It’s finally done.

The circle is now complete. When I met you I was but the learner. Now, I am the master.

Yada yada yada.

All in all, an okay movie, definitely better, technically, than even the first Star Wars. In terms of capturing the magic and awe of that long ago in a galaxy far, far away, not so much.

You know, this could have been a fantastic movie, even better than Empire Strikes Back (gasp) — IF Lucas wasn’t the director/screenwriter.

link

Below is the journal I wrote on my PDA as we traveled to and from Europe.

Photos are  in the gallery.

Enjoy.

Saturday, May 22, 2005
Mom and Bob dropped us off at LAX, Terminal 6. At the Continental Airlines check-in counter, we tried to get our e-tickets and discovered we needed “”help”". The woman seemed annoyed she needed to intervene instead of helping customers with the touchscreen. When she processed our reservation, she said there was a problem.
“”How are you leaving Paris to Amsterdam?”" she asked.
I frowned and said, “”By train.”" I didn’t add, “”Why should you care?”"
She called her supervisor and told him that Sun and I had no plane tickets leaving Paris. The supervisor was busy and simply said, “”Well, they need one.”"
“”Why do we need one?”" I asked.
“”For immigration purposes,”" he replied.
At this point I’m annoyed but willing to go a bit longer to see where it goes. The lady continued to tap on her console a bit longer, and as I was about to ask why they required me to have a ticket to Amsterdam for immigration purposes when she said to supervisor, “”What do I do if they don’t have one to Amsterdam?”"
This finally caught the supervisor’s attention and he said, “”As long as they leave the EU that’s an exit. It’s okay.”"
“”But they leave from Amsterdam, not Paris,”" she retorted.
I roll my eyes.
“”It’s okay, print their tickets,”" repeated the supervisor, clearly annoyed himself.
So we got our boarding passes, found the gate, as usual at the very end of the terminal, then got a bite to eat at Jody Maroni’s along with beer from the Redondo Beach Brewing Company.
While waiting, I also ended up buying the most expensive almond turtle ever… Let’s leave it at that.
We landed in Houston and took the shuttle to our transfer terminal. Nothing much happened here, though I do get to say at this point that passengers have gotten worse regarding boarding procedures. Look, we’re all getting on the same plane — just get on when they call your row block, goddammit. Of course, I realize why these idiots continue to do this: they want to steal your overhead baggage compartment space. Bastards.
The flight was long and uncomfortable. I got a window seat with no window, so there goes my view of Paris from the air. T least the food was decent, and I finally caught some shuteye, if however badly.
We landed in Paris at around 11am, Sunday. Customs was odd.. no stamp on my passport. Bummer.
We found and took the RER to Paris, switching to the 10 Metro and exiting at the Odeon stop. I took out my GPS to figure out where we were and from there, it was a two block walk to the Grand Hotel des Balcons, a small hotel virtually in the center of Paris recommended by my mom’s former boss. We showered, got settled, then went out for a walk and something to eat.
The something to eat was right outside the Sorbonne at the Tabac de la Sorbonne. Sun ordered an iced tea, too late to remember that iced tea, unsweetened, tends to be geographically limited — the thing she got was a sweetened peach iced tea. I played it safe, I got a quarter-liter of Leffe beer. We had a cheese omelette, and two french baguette’s, one with pate, one with emmental. Thus nourished, we walked about till we found ourselves at the Jardin du Luxembourg. On a Sunday afternoon, crowded with folks. There was an open air band playing, mostly old-time music of some sort, listened to by a host of senior citizens. The rest of the crowd were there to enjoy the park and an art exhibition called L’Art de la Ville, which was essentialy modern stuff that I have never learned to appreciate, though the guy pasting prints of nudes onto tree trunks was kinda interesting.
We walked on through a number of winding streets and found ourselves by the Seine. I saw a nice building and made Sun stand in front of it as I snapped a quick pic (for this walk, I didn’t bring the big gun camera, just a pocket one). Then we realized I just snapped a photo of Notre Dame.
I took one of the Pont Neuf, then we went down to the walkway by the Seine’s edge and strolled on down till we reached Notre Dame.
Crowded, was my first thought. Ah, visitors, yes… But it was also Sunday mass. A mass going on while tourists walk around snapping photos with their flashes on, how can they stand it? And how do people figure flashes will make their pictures look? They all had digicams, they could preview and realize it… But no, flash flash flash. Ah, well.
At the end of mass, the churchgoers started clapping. I’m not entirely sure why.
We went back to the hotel to rest, then got dinner at the Polidor, which was just a couple blocks away. Pate and brie to start, then Sun had a steak with fries and I a salmon with rice. We had white wine, of a name and vintage I took a picture so I wouldn’t have to remember the flowery words.
A quick stop at the hotel to pick up the big-gun camera and we were off on the Metro to look at the Eiffel Tower. We’d hoped to get to the top to look at Paris at night (the sun didn’t set till around 9:30), but by the time we got there they were no longer selling tickets. But we did get a look at that glorious monstrosity of steel while walking in the Champ de Mars, and under its towering image I gave Sun her engagement ring. She kept looking at it as we walked about the park.
We got back to the hotel the same way, and I promptly went to bed and slept a good nine hours.

Monday, May 23
It’s now almost 11, and Sun’s getting ready. She didn’t get to sleep till around five. Time to go have a gander at the Louvre.
Picked up a ham and cheese crepe and a chocolate banana one, too. Then we hit the Louvre. Obviously, there’s no way in hell we could have finished that place, but we did go through the Roman, Greek, Egyptian, and Mesopotamian areas… and we even found the Venus de Milo. And there’s the Mona Lisa.. La Jaconde herself. Let me tell you something.. When a painting is behind glass, or even so, when it’s a painting period, turn off the goddamn flash in your goddamn camera. You would think with everyone having a preview function on their digital camera, folks would figure this out. Instead, they notice the picture has this fucked up white spot or is washed out, so they take it again. And again. And again. And the museum guard keeps yelling, “”One picture only please.”"
I damn near lost it after waiting five minutes for this lady who kept taking the same bad picture over and over again.
We found an internet caf? and had lunch at Le Bateleurs, a caf? east of the museum. Sun had spaghetti bolognaisse and I had a plate of cheese. Mmm… Cheese.
Hit up Notre Dame again… Found out you had to pay to go up to the top, and the line was long, so we skipped it and went on a boat ride instead on the Bateux-Parisiens. Tour of the Seine… Not bad. Sun got cold. And thse nodded off. Heh. Tired woman.
Took the subway to the Grand Boulevard for dinner at Chartier, a simple French food sort of place established in 1896. Chicken and fries, fish with potatoes. Had a white table wine, an oddly named blanc de blanc. Outside, I added a nutella beignet for dessert. Sun dropped by the Virgin Megastore to pick up translated versions of Anne Rice and Caleb Carr for her boss, then we took the metro back to the hotel. It’s almost ten o’clock and the sun hasn’t quite set yet, but were turning in now so Sun can get her clock adjusted and we can prep ourselves for a long day at Versailles.

Tuesday, May 24
Woke up around eight, waited for Sun to do the same, which was around ten. Found breakfast at the Neo Caf?. Ham and cheese omelette for her, croque monsieur for me, along with coffee and hot chocolate, respectively. We walked over to the RER station in St. Michel and took the Line C VICK to Versailles.
Versalles was ridiculously crowded. The line at Gate A for genera admission tickets took about an our to get through, then we simply were herded by population pressure from state room to state room. Many of the galleries were in a state of disarray due to construction (no hall of mirrors for us) but it was still a nice visit. Damn place is huge.
We took the train back but got off at Invalides, where the Army Museum for WWII and more importantly the Tomb of Napoleon are located. Big and brown… a constrast in its simplicity and its sheer size.
We walked about the area and found the Caf? du Marche for a four o’clock lunch of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes and penne pasta. Dessert was an apple and ice cream affair for Sun and, as always, an assortiment de fromage for me. Had a Leffe, too.
We walked about the market for a bit, then returned to the Odeon area. After droppng off our gear at the hotel, we decided to take it easy and caught Star Wars at the nearby UGC theater. Yep, as expected.
I was feeling hot and uncomfortable afterward, not s much from the movie but from the day. Finding an iced tea in this town simply meant one thing: Starbucks. And though I am loathe to admit it, we succumbed and found ourselves walking under that damned green mermaid’s sign.
We picked up a ham and cheese sandwich and a raspberry tart to eat back at the hotel and that ended the day on a tasty note.

Wednesday, May 25
First thing in the morning was breakfast at the Le Bar du Marche near the hotel. Pate and a cheese omelette, along with espresso and hot chocolate for Sun and me, respectively. Sun’s really drinking a lot of coffee. Seriously, the lack of iced tea is really changing our drinking habits. We walked from there to the Montparnasse Cemetery, where Sartre, Durkheim, Samuel Beckett, and Guy de Maupassant lie, along with many others.
Afterward we stopped off at Le Rendezvous for ice cream and water. See, we were going to The Catacombs first, but the damned place is under renovation till June, the optimal tourist season that virtually all the attractions are apparently getting ready for. Afterward, we took the metro to Charles de Gaulle L’Etoile and the Arc de Triomphe, whose side was covered in scaffolding. The trend continues. We bought our tickets and ascended the stairs to the top. That’s a lot of stairs. The museum inside was, as with the outside, under construction. Nice view of Paris up top.
We then walked down the Champs-Elys?es, meeting all the other fat American tourists. A guy had handed us a coupon page for McDonalds with a free Big Mac combo with the purchase of same, so, as I find myself at McDonalds anywhere I go to see if the Big Mac tastes the same, we figured we’d go get ourselves a cheap meal. We walked down the boulevard for almost two hours, making it all the way to the Luxor obelisk and the Jardin de Tuleries and in the distance we could see the Louvre. Whew.
Took the metro back to Champs Elysees, bought and mailed a postcard or two, then reboard the metro to Bar Hakiem and the Eiffel Tower.
Before going up, we stopped at Le Beaupre for an apple tart and ice cream, and a cheese plate.
The wait for the elevator was long, especially since the car we were to board was closed initially because some idiot decided to puke. About an hour later we were finally looking over all of Paris. Took some pictures.
We took the elevator to the 2nd stage then took the stairs to the 1st, where we caught the elevator again after strolling about for a bit.
By the time we got home to the hotel it was after nine in the evening. Sun and I soaked our sore feet then took a shower. A little after ten found us at Le Procope, founded in 1686, for the “”expensive meal”" of Paris. Oyster on the half shell, pate, steak, and roast lamb. No wine, I’d been having far too much of a problem with dehydration and inebriation. So Pellegrino instead.
We got home and were in bed by midnight, and turned in for our last night in Paris, watching CSI in French and reading up on the transportation in Amsterdam.

Thursday, May 26
Woke up early, checked out, and got ourselves to Paris’
Gare du Nord station via metro.
Had a bit of breakfast there then boarded the Thalys train for Amsterdam. The trip took four hours, passing through Brussels and Rotterdam.
We arrived at Amsterdam Central at around two o’clock and found the No. 16 tram, which brought us to the Museumplein stop, where the Van Gogh and Rijkmuseum are located. After consulting my map we made our way to the Hotel Washington and checked in.
The room was unbelievably huge, particularly after our stay in Paris. The
bathroom alone was about the size of our last hotel room.
We unwinded just for a bit before heading out on foot to the Heineken Experience, a self-guided tour ith a 10 euro ticket that includes 3 drinks and a gift. In one of those odd coincidences of life, we ran in to Belinda, Van, and Rudy at the brewery, between bar 1 and bar 2, around the interactive rooms. We hg out with them for a bit at bar 2, then said goodbye till tomorrow and headed out to look for something to eat.
We found a place called Schutters in the shopping district of the Old Centre. Sun ordered a cheese fondue, and I went with spare ribs. They were ridiculously good. Fries with mayo is the order of the day as well… Ketchup requires asking the server.
We returned home via tram as I was getting a headache from the beers and lack of water. Ended up watching TV, as there was a multitude of channels compared to the our stay in Paris. A really fun show was the BBC 2′s Cash in the Attic. An old man needed 700 pounds for a new washer/dryer and t show basically rummaged through his home looking for items h was willing to part with that may sell well at auction. They ended up scoring over 1400 pounds, mostly because of an old railroad sign they estimated at 100 but sold for over 700. Much more fun than antique roadshow, which really is about a bunch of folks with crap they want to value but always say they’ll never sell it as it’s a family heirloom. To hell with that, let’s see the crap in your house and watch them get sold for ridiculous prices just because there are collector’s out there willing to pay for a set of pig figurines and toy cars.

Friday, May 27
Here we are finally, on a train to Almelo to attend Tommy and Erik’s wedding. We caught the 8:06 train so we wouldn’t have to switch trains — ended up having to move up a few cars at Deventer anyway as the train to Almelo was shortened.
The taxi bus picked us up at the station, then picked up the other guests staying at the Theater Hotel. Jean and Terry, Belinda, Van, and Rudy, Mak and her gal pals, plus Tommy’s brother Tri and a few others.
The ride to Ommen was relatively short, and we were at the Landgoed Het Laer soon enough.
Tommy and Erik showed up in a classic auto, Erik sporting his father’s wedding suit, coattails and all, and his grandfather’s wedding hat.
The ceremony was in two parts, the legal marriage with license signage and the spiritual one with vows and rings.
Afterward, the bus took us back to Almelo, where Sun and I checked in at the Theater Hotel to discover the largest room yet, a suite, in our name. Bear in mind that every hotel we have stayed out were at the same rate, so the room size changes made I quite easy to do comparisons on a place’s tourism demand.
Lunch was at the De Brasserie, consisting of lovely sandwiches according to country: a brie one for France, a cold cuts one for Italy, etc.
There was a break at this point, and Sun and I joined Jean and Terry for some ice cream before heading back to our room to rest for a bit.
I woke Sun up and we headed off to find the Restaurant Kreta for the reception. We found the streets blocked off and had to take the long way around, finding Jean and Terry along the way.
Apparently, Almelo has one big party every year for one night only, and Erik happened to pick that night by accident. Hence the barricade, though it did not explain the Vietnamese karaoke coming from a loudspeaker somewhere.
The reception was delightful, the food delicious, the company warm and friendly, the occasion a celebration. It was a good five, six hours before it finally ended and we made our way home, Mak tagging along. Then we ran into a wall of people.
So… I guess this party’s pretty big news out here in the countryside. We weaved through the crowd back to the hotel then fell to bed, tired, exhausted, a happily so.

Saturday, May 28
We checked out at around a quarter to ten then went to the breakfast buffet and found the other guests already there. There was a collective decision to go back to Amsterdam on the same train, Tommy and Erik coming along as well to help Tommy’s brother Tri find a hotel and to spend the day in the city. The merry crew included these three, Belinda, Jean and Terry, ourselves, and Mario and Sergio. Mario we had met at a couple of dinners back in LA, Sergio was from Barcelona. With this many people, getting everyone checked out and ready to go took a bit of time, and after walking to the station from the hotel we just managed to board the 12:18.
In Amsterdam, we arranged to meet everyone but Sergio, who needed to continue on to Schiphol airport, at the War Memorial in Dam Square at 6:30 for dinner. Sun and I returned to the Hotel Washington by tram and upon getting there fnd no one at home. We walked back to a busier section of town and found a caf?, where I had a beer, used the restroom, and Sun got to use the bartender’s cellphone to call and find out the attendant, Hans, was helping a guest with luggage or some such and was back in the office. So we checked in, then Sun took a nap. She intended to go shopping, but the nap came suddenly and overpowered her for two hours. I watched An Amercian In Paris and even found time for a shower.
By the time we got to Dam Square there was only about a half-hour of looking (she hit up H&M at least) then getting a bag of fries with mayo to munch on.
When everyone gathered, Mak and her two friends, Shachi and Teresa (no guarantees on spelling) joined us as well, and we headed of for dinner at the Indonesian restaurant Sukabumi.
After dinner, Tommy and Erik said goodbye and headed back to Almelo. Tri organized a going out at around nine o’clock, and set the meeting point at the lobby of the Marriott. He, Belinda, and Mario had found a room there and were now heading off to the train station to fetch their luggage.
I tried to find the way back by walking and we ended up getting lost and only had about five minutes to gather jackets (the cold had finally come after a week of above average temperatures). We walked to the Marriott, retracing part of our steps, a found everyone sans the grooms a short time afterward.
The caf? Tri found was dark and loud, but it served its purpose as a place to get some weed and go through all the hassle of rolling a couple of joints. The bartender ended up rolling them for us, as I am sure he’s done it for other silly Americans in the past.
Later we walked about and found ourselves at the Australian Homemade wre Sun got an ice cream and I some chocolates. Mak and company scored Belgian waffles. We said good night to everyone at this point, as we wanted to start early the next day to cover as much of Amsterdam as possible, and found a tram back to Museumplein.

Sunday, May 29
Woke up around eight, went downstairs a little before nine and had breakfast. Delicious and simple, courtesy of the hotel. We then walked to Museumplein and toured the small bit of the Rijksmuseum open during renovation, then the . The Van Gogh is simply impossible. No cameras allowed and the crowds were unbelievable. Look, I lke Van Gogh, but I don’t LIKE Van Gogh, and it was simply impossible to enjoy it with the atmosphere generated by the sheer number of people there. At least the Louvre, which is equally crowded, had the space and the breadth of scope to keep things interesting. Of course, the non-Van Gogh rooms were empty, and quite enjoyable as a result, such as the temporary exhibition on Schiele, who I found I liked for his pencils and crayon sketches.
We trammed it back to Dam Square and found the Oude Kerk closed till one, so we had a bit of lunch in the Red Light District, which is where the church is located (the Prostitution Information Center is behind the church). A place called The Grasshopper, a not very memorable restaurant full of hungover party people recovering from Saturday’s drug and alcohol fun by countering it in the daytime with a bit of the hair of the dog, and so on.
After the Oude Kerk I went to the Amsterdam Historisch Museum while Sun went shopping.
We met up at 4:30 and walked west to Prinzengracht 263, the location of Anne Frankhuis, Anne Frank’s Secret Annex. As crowded as the Van Gogh, it nevertheless maintained a solemn and muted atmosphere, one that kept you moving along with the crowd, looking at scraps of paper with flowery penmanship, typewritten documents, and other bits and pieces of a life in darkness. Walking in those rooms, stepping behind the bookcase and into the lonely, sunless world created by fear and hatred… it was a bit overwhelming. The last room contained the actual diaries, encased in glass, as a film of Otto Frank, father and sole survivor of the eight that lived in hiding, played on a screen, Otto relating the day Miep Gies gave him his daughter’s legacy, and his discovery of someone more than the daughter he knew.
We walked down Prinzengracht to the Flower Market to find it closed, then had dinner at Iguazu, a South American restaurant. Meat and fries is the gist of that meal.
We took the tram back to Museumplein and confirmed with the hotel our cab the next morning, the result of the morning strike of the metro system on the day of our departure.

Monday, May 30
The American democracy, in all its wisdom, has essentially made traveling back to the US a ridiculous and useless exercise in “”security”". We had to check-in at the gate an hour and a half before departure, only to find that we now could not leave the gate since we went through a security check. Yeah, because getting my shit x-rayed twice really promotes security. So here I am, writing this and the last few days because we can’t do shit but sit.
Land of the free, home the brave.
The plane took off late for the same reason.
We arrived in Houston a half hour late. Going through immigration and customs took far too long with half the kiosks closed, and instead of getting a nice Tex-Mex dinner we reduced our plans to the FOX sports bar next to the gate with beers and wings. Ah, well.
We landed at LAX 15 minutes late, but otherwise everything?s was peachy. The cab ride to our apartment only cost $20, far less than what I was expecting, and a little after six o?clock found me and Sun saying hello to Copper and Robber, who were ecstatic to see us. So much so that Sun didn’t get any sleep as the two cavorted about our bed throughout the night, dancing a happy dance.