Marveling marvelously

I'm about 90% through my MCU-in-chronological-order binge, and I've needed to take several breaks. It's been slow going through Runaways, Cloak and Dagger, The Punisher and a few other of the TV shows.

The movies I'd previously never seen have been a mixed bag...

Not the biggest fan of Iron Man, but Iron Man 3 was enjoyable once we established that the not-so-vaguely racist character of the Mandarin wasn't real. Even though I haven't seen Avengers: Endgame yet, I'm not immune to spoilers so I know how this character arc ends. And I don't care. Tony Stark is plain insufferable.

Captain America: Winter Soldier was meh, and it pains me to say that because I love Cap. The only useful thing it served for me was fully understanding what happened in the background of Agents of S.H.I.E.LD.

Avengers: Age of Ultron is the weakest of the Avengers movies, and also underscores why Tony Stark/Iron Man sucks. It also helped fill in some gaps from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. episodes.

Ant-Man was great (Paul Rudd usually is).

Loved Captain Marvel. It's the only movie I've had to watch out of order, but only because it came out later.

I'm now extra-motivated to make it through Cloak and Dagger S2 (maybe yay), Luke Cage S2 (yay), Iron Fist S2 (God, please make it stop), Daredevil S3 (End it now, o Lord), Runaways S2 (hmmm), The Punisher S2 (no no no no no), and Jessica Jones S3 (OK) so I can finally get to Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. S6.

This project has lasted longer than I thought it would, but I'm glad I'm sticking to it, even if I have to take breaks to watch Derry Girls S2, Call the Midwife S7, and old SNL episodes I missed.

Merry-Go-Round

I think I watch more movies with my sisters' kids than I do on my own. The Michigander nieces and neffy also pepper me with movie questions and express shock when I haven't seen their latest favorite.

Because the eldest sobrina apparently read Wonder the book several times and also liked the movie, we had to watch it. It wasn't something I would have selected on my own, nor watched without kids. As an elementary-school feel-good tale about friendship, it was cute. I appreciated how each character had their story told, with backgrounds and emotions coming out that others can't see in their interactions.

Coco was amazing, and not just because it was tailor-made for a Latinx fam. The story is endearing and cute and has a good twist and also had me sobbing at the end. I loved the little cultural touches -- like the chancla, the Mexico futbol jersey, the Spanish phrases not translated into English.

I liked Smallfoot. I expected it to be a reverse-Bigfoot discovery tale (and it was), but it also ended up being a refreshing take on the dangers of fearing the Other.

Inside Out was similarly cute, and all the little characters representing feelings reminded me of my youngest niece, or all of my nieces and nephews when they were little, for that matter. I had flashbacks to their toddler tantrums when various Feelings were dominant in the storyline. Oy.

The kiddos are all getting older, though, so the movies they recommend or want to watch are changing. Who knows what future theatre outings will bring?

Flicks 'n things

2018 brought a new neffy in NZ, and though I love all the Skype/Face Time/FB Messenger screen time, I'm now trying to figure out how to get back to Aotearoa soon to see him before he gets too big. They grow up so fast!

A year ago, when I saw the then-youngest neffy for the first time (he was 5), I tried to watch Hunt for the Wilderpeople to prepare me for Kiwi humor and television. It was... interesting. Parts of it were funny, parts were over the top, parts of it dragged on. In all, it's a decently heartwarming story of a foster kid who bonds with an old man while they're on the run from a social worker who (hilariously) goes all-out to find them. But it only took a few minutes into it to realize the humor is very... unique.

Upon getting to New Zealand, my bro-in-law told me that Boy was a quintessentially Kiwi funny film, so we watched it. It's a bittersweet story about an impoverished kid whose father gets out of prison and uses him to try and find loot he buried. And it's a comedy.

I think maybe Kiwi humo(u)r is just beyond my funny bone. To be fair, I've only seen a handful of NZ films -- but drama or comedy, they have all had some sort of bittersweet, underlying sad notes to them.

Then the nieces and nephews made me watch Jurassic World because they were horrified I'd never seen a Jurassic film. I really enjoyed it. Not too interested in watching the past films in the franchise, but this one was good as a stand-alone.

My eldest nephew had also recently started reading the Percy Jackson series, so we had to watch the two films. This started a rabbit hole of googling and learning about other young adult series out there that seem way cooler than the ones from my own tween years. I'll admit, the classics nerd in me loved it -- it's basically Harry Potter for the human children of Greek gods rather than wizards and Muggles. Coming-of-age stories can be hit or miss to delve into as an adult, but this one was fairly decent.

Then we got into the movies based on dystopian youth novels. We watched Divergent and then The Maze Runner. Both were interesting enough until I cheated and looked up the plots of the next books/films in the series and was so depressed it made me content to let the stories end where I left them. Divergent seemed more interesting, if done many times before: individuals are divided by roles in society, some learn the insidious secret behind the social order and revolt... The Hunger Games, The Giver, etc, etc, etc.

The Maze Runner had similar undertones but more of a Westworld vibe.

I think the dystopian trilogy fad for tweens and young readers/viewers is only popular because the kids are embarking on their own personal growth, realizing there is a strange, real world out there that they'll have to learn to navigate.  Some of them are good stories. But I think I've read or seen so many, especially lately, that these two in particular seemed really formulaic.

Plus, I'll be 40 this year. I want the happy ending fantasies to distract me from the never-ending news cycle.

My 6yo nephew still believes in Santa Claus.

Re-marveling

Once again, as Avengers: Endgame approaches, I'm trying to go back and watch the entire MCU in in-universe chronological order, this time included all the TV shows like Agent Carter and Jessica Jones that I hadn't previously thought to weave into my understanding of the general superhero narrative.

It's going to be a long journey. But luckily, the Pacific Northwest is current blanketed in a rare, debilitating snowfall. Snowpocalypse-induced cabin fever means I have a lot of binge-watching time on my hands. The Seattle Public Library has also kindly extended all due dates on books, so the non-snow options are practically endless.

Following last year's MCU binge, I bit the bullet regarding distasteful rich playboy "heroes" and watched Iron Man 2. Meh. But The Incredible Hulk was worse: the dialogue was crappy, and Liv Tyler is devoid of personality as always but so was every other character. After re-watching the (fun) Captain America and introducing myself to the highly addictive and unfortunately short-lived Agent Carter series, these next two MCU films in the timeline were such a letdown and I can't wait to get beyond this first awkward phase of the Marvel oeuvre.

Marveling

Earlier this year and late last, in preparation for Black Panther, I tried to watch all the MCU movies I could.

From the Avenger movies, I've never much cared for Iron Man or Tony Stark. I finally got around to watching the first of the Iron Man films, and while it was decent, I still didn't care enough to go on to watch the second or third. (They were also unavailable on Hulu or Netflix, while #1 was on an airplane flight.)  I guess I just don't like the spoiled brat rich guy as hero, just like I've never particularly loved Batman.


I watched Guardians of the Galaxy and its Volume 2 with some friends, and they're the perfect goofball flicks to watch in an unserious mood. In all honesty, I wouldn't have watched them on my own, but I've grown to like the MCU so I'm glad I've gotten a better picture of it... even if Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Season 5 on ABC was its worst, and I don't entirely love storylines stuck in space. Guardians were funny and enjoyable.

The Thor movies were all amazing. I thought I'd seen the first two when I made plans to see Ragnarok in theatres, but a quick Wikipedia read made me realize I hadn't. Luckily, both 1 and 2 were available on plane trips. I love the humor that floats on the surface of larger, darker themes about heritage and legacy. Of all these new-to-me MCU movies, the Thor series definitely wins. I'd watch them all again. Plus, who doesn't love Norse mythology? I'll go off and binge-watch Vikings now.

And then... Black Panther. So many critics, scholars, activists, and comics fans have said almost everything about it, from every angle. Parts of it made me uncomfortable (the made-up language, the made-up cultures, the black liberation character being innately violent and the "necessity" of his death), but I accept that the power of the story is rooted in part in a pan-African tribute, that generation trauma is a very real part of the post-colonial experience and diaspora, and that as a superhero's origin story there are basic formulas films follow. Besides, it's sci-fi. And it's also possible to love and dislike and critique and adore something all at the same time. The power of black representation, a strong storyline (with kick-ass, intelligent, independent females!), and great action sequences make it inspiring and immediately beloved. Since its theatrical release, Black Panther has since come to Netflix, and I have already re-watched it twice.

My 9-year-old nephew is also a fan of all things Marvel, in that obsessive way that children learning about things are. A few years ago I swear he memorized the gazillion Pokemon characters, which I didn't realize have like three different iterations each, and suggested I read his thousand-page Pokemon encyclopedia to educate myself before browsing through his Pokemon card collection. Recently, I mentioned to him that I was trying to watch a lot of the Marvel superhero movies and series spinoffs. He proceeded to quiz me on the gazillions of minor characters that he is learning about... in a comic book encyclopedia, which of course he suggested I read. I doubt I will reach his level of nerdery: I don't really care to learn the intricacies of how every timeline and character fits together in some intergalactic scheme.

But I warned Mi Hermana that she probably has a future Comic Con devotee in the house...

Deep like the rivers

2018 started off with a trip to New Zealand and has continued to be amazing in terms of travel:

Niagara Falls ~ Canadian Falls

• Niagara Falls with the Michigander nieces and nephew. We drove from Detroit and stayed on the Canadian side. It was good to be there in the off-season: the town itself is super touristy and reminded me a lot of a family-friendly version of Las Vegas. In early April it was uncrowded so I can only imagine how jam-packed everything would be during peak season.
  
  Mi Hermana and I really wanted to ride the famous boat on the river up to the Falls, but the boat tour only operates in late spring and summer. Besides, the Niagara River was frozen -- frozen! My Northwest brain was so fascinated by a frozen river-- and boats couldn't get in the water anyway.
  
  The Falls themselves (both Canadian and American) were stunning, as were the cheesy tours that brought you closer to the water. The butterfly conservatory was unexpectedly enjoyable for me -- I didn't realize we'd actually be walking around in a heated room with thousands of butterflies flitting around us. Mi Hermana and I also sampled many, many local Niagara wines.
  
  On the way back, we stopped at an Underground Railroad museum in Ontario. I really liked reading the stories of former slaves who made it to freedom in Canada and had to create a new life, build communities, and fight for rights. It was... interesting and awkward to observe the vastly differing reactions of kids ages 6,8, and 10. The 6yo thought everything was fun and games; the 8yo monopolized the history doctoral student/museum staffer's time with questions about everything under the sun, indicating a slow awareness that human history is not just; and the 10yo in full tween mode kept saying loudly she'd studied this in school.
  



Peyto Lake, Banff 

• I went back to Canada in August with old college friends, this time to Jasper and Banff National Parks. Unfortunately, most of British Columbia, Alberta, Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and Montana was blanketed in smoke from wildfires, so we couldn't really see the world-renowned mountains and glaciers surrounding us. Nevertheless, we went hiking and canoeing and kayaking and swimming and whitewater rafting. When we caught glimpses of the Rockies, though, it was definitely gorgeous. Will have to go back.
  
• This summer I also attempted to summit both Mt Rainier and Mt Adams -- Rainier for the second time, Adams for the first. On Rainier, I got further than I did on my 2015 attempt, and did it sans anxiety attack! Our group didn't end up summiting due to unsafe conditions but I'm wildly happy about our trip. Will definitely try again, and soon.
  
  On Adams, we probably should have camped halfway up instead of trying to summit in one day. We made it an impressive 1700 feet short of the summit, though. It was very long day. But now we know, for next time!  

And yet, she persisted

The eldest niecester is now in the double digits, officially a tween.

I've read all manner of horrible studies that show this is when the gender gap can start in school: girls start to take less of an interest in STEM, sports, etc. She already claims she doesn't like math, despite being good at it; and she already refused to join a new soccer team when they moved out of loyalty to her old team but also because she says she doesn't like running anymore.

Yet La Primera Sobrina has all the makings of a future activist to make her parents and tía proud. (Aside from being vocally enthusiastic about the possibility of a female president during the '16 campaign, when the family decided to watch the Star Wars movies, she demanded that they watch Rogue One first because it had a girl as the protagonist.)

So aside from getting her Hidden Figures on Blu-Ray for her birthday, La Mas Cool Tia Del Mundo went on a bender to get ideas for girl-power, age-appropriate books for her. I looked to A Mighty Girl for my inspiration; most of the time their suggestions are excellent, but sometimes they aren't.

I got Sylvia and Aki without actually reading the description; I assumed it was a book about friendship between two girls during WW2 and that the focus was that one of them was Japanese-American and incarcerated. OOPS! Turns out, yes, that's a tiny part of the story, which is based on a real-life friendship between two girls in the '40s, but also more importantly, the real-life Mendez v Westminster case out of California. Mendez was a father's (eventually successful) attempt to desegregate California schools so that his kids didn't have to walk a longer distance to go to the Mexican-only school; it was later cited in Brown v Board of Education that achieved the same goal of integration, this time nationwide.  I was unintentionally trying to highlight her Asian American heritage but accidentally ended up showcasing how important her Mexican American heritage is. TOTALLY amazing book for La Sobrina, given that she is one (and "only" half) of the Latino kids at their Michigan elementary school.

Next up was Women Explorers. I, for one, was inspired by the true tales of women who travelled alone, went mountain-climbing when society told them they shouldn't, and took off to be adventurous.  HOWEVER, every single woman highlighted was either European or white American (even the Mexican heroine), and most of them were also upper-middle class if not outright wealthy. Sacajawea didn't even make a token appearance. I nixed it for La Sobrina on that basis alone. It was inspiring, yes, but didn't deviate from the pre-Third Wave feminist mentality that women's history is by default white women's history.

I also nixed The King's Equal for being too stuck in the tired Poor Girl Changes Royalty theme.I normally approve of Katherine Paterson, but this book was really disappointing. Basically, there's a conceited prince and a beautiful, intelligent but poor villager. They swap places for a year when he becomes king; it changes him, and his obviously future queen did a great job running the kingdom, so they get married. Blah.


Because the kids loved Newsies, I thought We Were There Too might keep the spark of children's activism alive. I, for one, enjoyed it. But I think it is a little dense reading for kids. And most of the "children" whose stories are told throughout American history are actually teenagers, which I thought La Sobrina and her younger siblings maybe wouldn't find as relatable. Where Women Explorers failed, however, We Were There Too had stories from a wide range of racial and ethnic backgrounds as well as socioeconomic classes. It highlighted everything from strikes to helping their families during war, and wasn't intended to be about activism so much as just showing that kids were part of American history too. The only problematic piece was that the first third of the book (early United States history) relied on European settlers' accounts, so the stories are obviously somewhat self-selective, especially in regards to how Native Americans are presented. Part of that is also a larger conversation about the nature of history as a discipline itself: reliance on first-person narratives leaves out oral traditions or conquered cultures who were very much "there too"...

And though A Mighty Girl didn't suggest it, I loved loved loved loved LOVED Wonder Woman. Mi Hermana thinks the niecester might be old enough to watch it, and I agree. I'd read all the reviews of women going to see the film in theatres and breaking down and crying during parts of it, overcome by the rare portrayal of a powerful, bad-ass lady on screen.... I did not expect to do that myself! And yet I did, towards the end, at the moment the goddess Diana finds and channels her inner mental strength to save the world. I don't tend to like DC universe comics or movies as much as Marvel, but this is the one exception. Yes, there are problematic parts: not enough ethnic and racial diversity, the issue of sexy superhero outfits for women alone, some stereotyping of the villains. Still, it's a movie I'd watch and re-watch in the company of kick-ass lady friends, my niece, my she-roes, and anyone else who is down to topple the patriarchy!

Kia ora, meri kirihimete

It took a little over 5 years, but I finally visited La Otra Hermana in New Zealand. The youngest neffy is now 5, and I've only ever met him over Skype; they're expecting a fifth baby, and I don't want to make a habit of having nieces or nephews I've never actually hugged.

Mt Ruapehu, Tongariro Alpine Crossing

Over the Kiwi Christmas holidays, the fam made sure I tried the NZ foods -- the traditional and apparently controversial pavlova, Anzac biscuits, fluffies, oka, paua fritters, Tim Tams, and assorted lollies.  The kids all love feijoas, which I've never had and wanted desperately to try, but they were out of season. Feijoa-flavored candies had to suffice.

Mt Ngauruhoe aka Mt Doom from LOTR,
Tongariro

85% of my trip was for seeing the family; I had grand plans for hiking the rest of my time. I had to be a bit flexible, because all the Great Walk huts were booked for all the multi-day hikes I wanted to do. But I managed to head north to the do the Tongariro Alpine Crossing (SO BEAUTIFUL) and west to do a small portion of the Te Araroa trail.

Emerald Pools, Tongariro 

Kapiti Island from portion of the
Te Araroa trail

Marlborough wine country,
South Island - I biked 36 km!!!

I spent New Year's Eve in Wellington! My third NYE outside Seattle, my second outside the States, my first in the southern hemisphere. The national museum of NZ also sated my Great War obsession, with an incredibly detailed and moving exhibit on Gallipoli.

I had planned on hiking around the northwest part of the South Island, but rental car agencies had a 7-day minimum. I didn't want to spend too much time away from the kiddos, so I hopped on a bus, then rented a bike and cycled around Marlborough, New Zealand's most famous wine region. It was a good backup plan, got me on a bike for the longest period of time since fracturing my elbow falling off one 20 years ago, and made me embrace the relaxed Kiwi way of life. Plus, the wine tastings were amazing.

I also managed to get some serious quality time with the two neffies and two nieces. They've grown so much since I last saw them in person! Of course I knew that from talking to them on Skype, but still. I spent time with each of them individually:

Ropes course!
Slightly scary but fun!

• 9-year-old nephew and I went to a ropes course, where he proceeded to go fearlessly across every obstacle. I definitely had to get out of my comfort zone to keep up with him and make sure he was OK; as long as I didn't look down, I was fine.  He wanted to do each one first, except for one zipline where you hang by your arms 50 feet above ground. I had to gulp down my own nervousness and prove to him that it was fun! And doable! And not deadly! When he finally did it, he had such an adrenaline rush that he immediately exclaimed "That was amazing! Let's do the whole course! We can do it, Auntie! We can do anything!" I guess you can, if you conquer your fears.
  
• 5-year-old neffy and I took a 45-minute train ride -- his first time ever on a train! He was very excited. He got to order and pay for our tickets, and once on board he kept wanting to switch our seats every few minutes.
  
• The 7- and 8-year-old nieces both wanted to do our nails, get frozen yogurt, and go shopping at the mall, and they wanted to do it together. I probably could have handled them one at a time, but two small girls could run very quickly down the mall hallways, talk at the same time to distract me, and gang up on me to convince me to buy them new nail polish colors, a toy, and a hot beverage. It was exhausting, but fun. 

I really did not want to leave -- both because there's so much more to explore of New Zealand, and because it broke my heart to leave the kids.

Already planning my next trip, hopefully in 2-3 years!

Bending toward justice

About a year and a half ago, my cousin and I went to see a local production of Rap on Race. We erroneously thought it was a rap, as in hip-hop performance, about race in America. Turns out, it was a short play based on an actual recorded conversation between James Baldwin and Margaret Mead. Oops! It was still very thought-provoking and highly relevant, just not what we were expecting.

But I've thought a lot about both our misunderstanding about the nature of the event and the Baldwin/Mead conversation itself (fraught with its own misunderstandings), especially in light of all the recent BLM actions, NFL national anthem protests, and Confederate statue debates.

Today being MLK Day, I figured it was a good time to catch up on some of my media endeavors.

Though I dislike horror movies, I wanted to see Get Out. I read all the spoilers so I already knew the "surprises" ... because I can't overstate how much I really, really, really hate horror movies. But this wasn't so much a horror film in the now-traditional slasher sense as it was a fantasy-commentary on the treatment of black bodies in white America. Having read all the reviews and analyses, I also appreciated the role of the one Asian character in the film, who is actively complicit in racism ... specifically taking part in the stand-in for a slave auction. A stark reminder about the "Model Minority" trope as yet another embodiment of anti-Blackness, indeed. There's a lot to unpack in Get Out; I feel like watching it a second time would need a film club-level discussion, because it's not something you watch for funsies on your own.

As a mixed kid (as well as a former ACLU employee and current board member), I've long known about and pseudo-revered the Loving v Virginia Supreme Court case. So I had to watch Loving. Ruth Negga and Joel Edgerton were amazing as the titular couple whose illegal marriage paved the way for future interracial couples to tie the knot -- like my aunt and uncle one year after their landmark case, another aunt and uncle the year after that, my own parents a decade later, and so on. Some of the most poignant parts of the film were quiet scenes of the Virginia landscape, where two poor individuals could easily fade into the chasm of time and tradition. I loved that the film underscored how the Lovings weren't political at all, weren't trying to make a radical statement about race relations, weren't looking for publicity. They really just wanted to stay under the radar and have their marriage recognized by the state they both loved and considered home. The whole film was a moving reminder that history is frequently shaped not by big names, but by ordinary people who just want to live their lives in their own way, in private.

Lastly, Hidden Figures was amazing. I knew bits of the story of NASA's Katherine Johnson, since President Obama honored her a few years back and she made the news. The movie was great: kick-ass nerd women fighting both racism and sexism in the '60s. (The film mainly focused on the sexism, though: mentions of the era's Civil Rights struggles were always in the background but rarely directly mentioned, except in relation to segregated facilities.) It was the perfect movie to get for my 9-year-old niece, who was so gung-ho-girl-power for Hillary in the election and who was devastated in the aftermath. (I also read somewhere that 4th or 5th grade is when girls start to lose interested in STEM classes, partly due to social cues about what girls "should" be good at. So I figured this could potentially encourage a love of science as well.) La Sobrina came up with the idea of boycotting the Pledge of Allegiance at school until the Muslim ban was overturned; it didn't pan out, but for a while Mi Hermana had to have an unexpected civil disobedience discussion with her elementary-school kids, about how there could be social consequences from other kids that didn't agree with them, but that she'd support them if they truly wanted to do this to stand by their Muslim classmates. They didn't, in the end, but their righteous anger gives me hope.

Today, of all days, I think of my nieces and nephew growing up Scottish-German-Filipino-Mexican in a largely Arab suburb of a majority-Black Detroit... and I think that maybe --just maybe-- that arc of the moral universe can be bent a little more toward justice in my lifetime after all.

Society, where none intrudes

I've discovered a new mystery series that helps me escape the existentially terrifying year that is 2017: a whole series with a female detective park ranger, with each book taking place in a different National Park!

The heroine is a kind of tomboy loner, which is probably why I like the series. And after last year's centennial celebration of the National Park Service, it's piqued my interest in visiting more parks, especially since I've had an America the Beautiful pass for the past 2 years.

Speaking of National Parks, we made it to Glacier! Unfortunately we didn't have time to do more than a few short 2-hour hikes, but based on the small taste I got this summer before the wildfires decimated chunks of the park, I need to go back to do some actual hiking.

Two things I was not expecting about Glacier:

1) IT'S DROP-DEAD GORGEOUS EVERYWHERE You can seriously just take pictures at pullouts along the highways, and it looks like you've hiked in the backcountry to a secret, serene spot.  

2) THERE ARE BEARS! Googling "bears Glacier Montana" before leaving was both a mistake and very educational. PSA: you can rent bear spray in the park! It helped calm my paranoia about unexpectedly encountering a grizzly or black bear on the trail... especially on the one hike I did alone, at 5am, on one of the more isolated trails, while my friends were all 40 miles away lining up to run a half-marathon. (The half-marathon had armed guys in ATVs on bear patrol.) 

Before I saw the sign about bears 

being spotted on the trail.

I didn't see anybody (or bears) on that eeeeearly morning trail for at least 2 hours, but I did see a handwritten sign saying bears had been on the trail the day before.

I did, however, see a bull moose! By then there were a few other people on the trail. The moose, with his huge gore-tastic antlers, stopped all foot traffic for about 20 minutes on the trail while he moseyed around finding his breakfast. 

Mt Baker: So close, yet so far!

Speaking of glaciers, it's been almost two months since our Mt Baker summit attempt. Our group had three chances to summit: it was stormy and rainy on the first two, which meant the last day on the mountain would be loooong. No one made it to the summit, though some made it to the crater rim; our party had several injuries or health issues. I think we are all glad we attempted the summit, though.

The mountains are calling, and I must go... where, next?

New Zealand, actually, to visit La Otra Hermana, the nieces and nephew I haven't seen in 5 years except on Skype, and the nephew I've only ever met over the computer. They're all too young to go on the Great Walks or multi-day tramps I want to try, but I'm researching kid-friendly short hikes.

A friend recently reminded me of the Japanese term "forest bathing," and the more I think about it, the more I like the idea.

I could use some more forest bathing.

Frosty, but kindly

Seattle is currently 1) in the middle of a disgusting heat wave and 2) under a smoky haze stemming from a record number of wildfires in British Columbia.

Hiding from the heat gives me a lot of time to catch up the readings and the writings and the watchings that I committed to reviewing at the dawn of one of the most depressive eras known to modernity, this post-2016 election age.

Building our snow cave.
Lots of shoveling!

The atrocious temperatures also remind me of a pleasanter time, namely February of this year when I finally went snow camping and build a snow cave! Two years ago I signed up for this annual class with The Mountaineers, but uh, stayed out too late partying the night before and missed it. This year I wisely abstained from temptation and made it to Mt Baker armed with a snow shovel and winter camping accoutrements.

Let's just say, making a snow cave big enough for the 4 ladies on your team to sleep in takes HOURS, and involves a lot of shoveling and carting away of extra snow. But it was worth it, because at the end of our 6-hour-long snow-carving ordeal, we got to sleep inside the snow cave we made! It was super cool.

The forecast calls for continued 90+ degree weather in the Northwest. I would give anything to be in that snow cave right now.

Or on any snow-covered mountain, really. I finally got around to reading Into Thin Air and my God, it was horrifying. I didn't know anything about the 1997 accident on Everest or any of the controversy surrounding Jon Krakauer himself, but the book was pretty damn compelling. It also solidified that anything involving Everest is definitely NOT on my bucket list!

The main thing I took away was the awful choices facing people at that altitude, where lack of oxygen, water, food, and visibility: the story of one climber found near death and left to live his last few minutes in a storm because carrying someone that near death would expend unnecessary energy. He then miraculously survives, staggers into camp on his own, with severe frostbite. Everybody assumes he'll die in a few hours and won't be able to make it down to base camp, so they wrap him in blankets to make his last few hours comfortable. And he survives AGAIN, eventually making it to base camp and then home (where I think he had a bunch of amputations due to frostbite). Imagine being a fellow climber and having to look that guy in the eye. I get that those are the realities of survival, but that's just harsh.

Aaaand, in one week I'll be back on Mt Baker, this time to summit.

Eek!

Aiga

Back in July, I visited the nieces and neffy in Michigan to help them move into their new house.  We took the kids out to see Finding Dory. (Who knew at the time that the new President would later screen it at the White House?)

Nothing beats Finding Nemo, but Finding Dory was cute. There's a new cast of characters, including a hilarious escaping octopus. I like the fact that Dory's parents and friends support her in living her reality with short-term memory loss.

In another ocean-related adventure, over Thanksgiving I took the same nieces and nephew* to see Moana. We were excited to see it because yes, a Disney "princess" movie finally highlighted a South Pacific culture, but also because their cousins in New Zealand (where the film didn't open until Boxing Day) are part Islander.

Representation matters. And I loved Moana.  I loved it despite the very legitimate controversies about Disney telling peoples' stories, an annoying crab character, a Maui demi-god that was basically a reworked Hercules (see: colonialism and previously mentioned issues with Disney storytelling), and a vague blending of all South Pacific cultures into one (Tokelauan, Tongan, Samoan, Maori) that a Western audience wouldn't truly understand. And though I love Lin-Manuel Miranda, I'm not entirely sure his lyrics and singing style were the perfect fit for Moana.

But I loved it for my half-Samoan Kiwi nieces with part-Maori cousins. Brave was great: they are part Scottish too and come from many traditions of strong women. But Merida didn't look like them; Moana does. Frozen was great: they dressed up and did their hair like Anna and Elsa and dreamed of snow and ice. But Arendelle's Scandinavian balls bear little resemblance to the Island dances and hakas they are learning and performing in their mixed suburban community.

I am, however, preparing myself for endless Skype sessions filled with "How Far I'll Go" renditions.




* the Latino/Filipino/German/Scottish ones

Home to roost

It is currently closer to the advent of the Year of the Rooster than it is to the dawn of 2016, but either way, now is a good time to reflect on my annual "firsts" from the past year.

2016 didn't see any exciting international trips (except a triathlon in Canada), but there were certainly a lot of new places I experienced.

• Zion National Park and Bryce National Park in Utah, a state I have visited only once before and only for work. This time, I got to explore it with friends. The parks are beautiful! And the Pacific Northwesterners learned a lot about how flash floods happen and how eons of them shaped the canyons of the southwest. We're used to glaciers doing that in our neck of the woods, not water! We also took advantage of our flights out of Sin City to see the gorgeous Red Rock Canyon, which I will admit made me think a little more highly of Las Vegas.
• Spoke at my alma mater (on behalf of the ACLU). I've spoken at high school around the Seattle area, but never at my own. It's changed a lot! But it was kind of comforting to see a lot also hasn't changed.
• Volunteered for a major international sporting event -- the Copa America! It was really cool to see how all the pieces come together for a huge event. And once my pre-game volunteer shifts were done, I got to be inside the stadium for the games themselves!
• Drove a big-ass U-Haul truck because Mi Hermana y Mi Cunado had never done it, and yet as first-time homebuyers in the Michigan 'burbs they had a ton of stuff.
• Hiked to base camp on Mt Baker accidentally with a friend who wanted to rebuild her climbing skills after a surgery. We just kept going and going until we found ourselves at the bast of the mesmerizing and beautiful Easton Glacier, with a bunch of climbers in tents scattered around us!
• Participated in a triathlon! Well, a sprint triathlon, in which everything is smaller or shorter than a full tri. I only ran the 5K part; teammates did the swimming and biking. Still! It sounds bad-ass, and I wore the medal as I drove all the way home. The border guard even commented on it. :-D



My triathlon team's mascot
 was this little squirrel. 
He was my only companion
 on the long drive from 
Vancouver, WA to Vancouver, BC

• Drove to (and around in) Canada. I've only ever been a passenger in someone else's car as we drove 3 hours up to the border, waited in line, and crossed. This time I did it all on my own -- and from Vancouver, WA to Vancouver, BC!
• Got rear-ended by a young lady who'd recently moved to the PNW from Arkansas and wasn't accustomed to heavy rains. She was visibly shaken, and neither of us was seriously injured (though my back and neck hurt later and I felt nauseous for a few days, all signs of whiplash). I guess I'm incredibly lucky that I've never been in a car crash before. And this particular instance was pretty clear-cut (I stopped at a red light, she didn't and hit me); I thought dealing with insurance would be a nightmare but it hasn't been at all.
• Worked on a political campaign outside of Washington State! I doorbelled for Catherine Cortez-Masto (who won and made history as the 1st Latina in the U.S. Senate) and Hillary Clinton in...
• Reno, NV -- a city surrounded by beautiful hills and mountains that I tried to explore on my short breaks, mainly because the town itself is a little sad. But I also got to see...
• Lake Tahoe -- I wish I could have spent more time exploring, but the lake was pretty and gave me some needed downtime during the campaign cycle.
• Cried at the result of an election. And in public! I've gotten a wee bit teary before, but never actually shed tears on E-day. And not just in the bar where I was watching the final returns with friends, but on the street afterwards and on the walk home. I guess "sobbing" more accurately describes what occurred. Which brings me to...
• Understanding the phrase "My blood ran cold" because it happened the minute I got an AP alert calling the presidential election results. My entire body literally went cold. I'd never truly understood that phrase before until that moment.

Despite the election results which have spilled into a horrible start to 2017, 2016/ the Year of the Monkey itself was actually a pretty good year. I started a new job that I love, where I have more creative direction and agency. I got to see parts of the country that I hadn't explored much before -- specifically, the American Southwest. I got to spend more time with my nieces and nephew as they moved to a new city and started new schools.

So bring it, 2017.  Let's see what you and the Rooster have in store!

Suspending belief

Sometimes, getting out of your comfort zone can surprise you in pleasant ways.

I don't normally like hokey comedies, ghost stories, or bizarre supernatural tales. I'm not the biggest fan of Melissa McCarthy or Kirsten Wiig (I have come to love both Leslie Jones for her Sounders enthusiasm and Kate McKinnon for her SNL brilliance). And I wasn't allowed to watch a lot of movies "normal" kids did in the '80s, so I have still never seen the original Ghostbusters.  

But I really, really enjoyed the 2016 remake! Maybe it was the all-female vibe, or the deliberate way the gender roles were reversed, or the cheesy un-scary aspect of the ghosts, but I really liked the movie more than I actually thought I would!

In a similar vein, I'm not a big comic book fan, of either the Marvel or DC universe varieties. (However, I do love Marvel's Agents of SHIELD: even without an understanding of the Avengers' back stories, the show stands on its own.) I'm not entirely sure how Dr. Strange fits into all the nerd-dom, but as a movie it was pretty fun to watch.

The only thing I'd heard about it was the controversy regarding Tilda Swindon being cast as a character who is supposed to be Asian and male. Having no personal ties to the comic, though, made it hard for me to feel affronted, even if I sympathize with critiques of Hollywood whitewashing, and even if I generally try to support films that feature people of color.

Benedict Cumberbatch's American accent was a little off-putting, though.

...And then there are the times where you get out of your comfort zone and realize you like it nice and fine there, thank you very much.

A coworker and I were talking about bizarre mystery series we loved; I raved about Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next series, and he recommended the Dresden Files. So I checked out the first book from the library. It definitely sounded intriguing: it features a wise-cracking wizard private investigator. But meh, it didn't really draw me in.

Usually I give a series a second chance by reading the second book. I'm still on the fence about this one.

I believe I know what I like.

Harpier cries, "'Tis time, 'tis time"

I felt compelled to to read the next installment in the Jade del Cameron 1920s Africa mystery series, mainly because I've invested so much time in it already (and also probably because I'm feeling nostalgic for my own African adventure.) The tropes are getting old, though, filled with mysterious and often supernatural-possessed natives. This one was no different: the murder-solving multicultural American heroine and her family embark on a trip to Zanzibar. They manage to destroy a cult, solve some murders, and free slaves, all despite local legends of witchcraft and sorcery.

Months ago, I accidentally abandoned my Newbery Medal-reading streak, but recently tried to re-start that by re-reading The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I liked it well enough as a fifth grader when I originally read it: after all, it features a strong teenage heroine who challenges 17th-century Puritan gender norms. Reading it almost 30 years later as an adult was interesting: I distinctly remember 10-year-old me being surprised and disgusted by the love triangle, dismissing it all as mushy crap. Re-reading it as an adult, it's a very obvious subplot. It's still a cute story, with a good message for young readers about doing good, treating all people with respect, and standing up for themselves and others... a somber lesson to take into 2017.

I'm not entirely sure how Blackbird rose to the top of my Newbery reading list, but I suspect it's because I've been listening the hell out of Hamilton. (I suspect that Hamilton's childhood in St. Kitts and Nevis reminded me of Blackbird Kit's childhood in Barbados.)

It took months and months of friends pleading with me to listen to the soundtrack before one finally had a Hamilton listening party that forced me to hear it in all its brilliance.

The play admittedly has its faults, and scores of critics have ranted about them more eloquently than I could -- about the whitewashing of slavery despite having a mostly black cast, the glorification of bootstrap ideology, failing the Bechdel test, etc. But as a history nerd, it's a freaking Tony-winning musical about the country's first Secretary of the Treasury! You can still appreciate that it's a fantastic story, without forgetting or demeaning its historical context. As a carefully crafted tale, its narrative structure is just sheer genius.

Along with Les Miserables and Newsies, it's now one of my favorite musicals. (Yes, I have a strong preference for productions with a fight-for-justice theme.)

Besides, wildly popular cultural phenomena are only relevant because they speak to something about the contemporary condition. Hamilton is actually a story about the here and now and the debate Americans have been having over national identity since electing a black president.

"History has its eyes on you.."

Carrying the banner

I bought Newsies on BluRay for my nieces and nephew for Christmas, after a conversation with Mi Hermana about exposing them to more history.

It's no secret that it's one of my favorite movies. I hope the kids like it as much as my sisters and I did.

Earlier this year, my mother took me to see the stage production. To my surprise, it featured not only new songs but a generally different character

Jack is apparently a great doodler and a talented budding young political cartoonist, rather than merely an orphan who wants to escape New York. I didn't mind that change so much, except that they revised the lyrics to "Santa Fe" so that when I was singing along at the top of my lungs, it was to the movie lyrics instead. Awkward.

The newspaper reporter (played by Bill Pullman in the movie) and David's sister were taken out and condensed into one character: a female reporter who is also the love interest for Jack. I didn't mind this change so much, either.

But the unforgivable change was that said reporter is revealed to secretly be the daughter of Hearst, and she and her rich kid friends (the children of Pulitzer and Astor) are super eager to show their support for the newsboys' strike. Rather than letting the story stand as one where near-destitute orphans empower and organize themselves to form a union and fight for a fair contract, this Broadway version makes the capitalists all friendly and nice after all. I think it detracts from the original story and lessens its power.

I left the theatre wondering why such a big change would have been written in to the stage, and the only reason I can think of is to make it accessible to the more privileged kids who are likely to be able to (afford and) see it performed.

I'm glad I finally saw the stage production; I'm just disappointed that the story took something away from the original tale that merged by tween love of musicals and history.

Reboot

The past month has not been good. Having an established professional and volunteer life in the political realm, my anxiety levels have been off the charts since Election Day. It's heartening to see and hear so many political and previously not-so-political people stepping up and taking action, resisting, fighting the good fight, etc. And I'm slowly getting there.

I volunteered at work to be sent to Nevada in the weeks before the election to help the Silver State turn blue and to help elect the first Latina to the U.S. Senate. I've been clinging to those two successes in the past month.

But I still have to change the radio channel when NPR plays interview clips of the soon-to-be Commander-in-Chief. I still haven't entirely cleaned my apartment post-GOTV. I don't have the energy to plan my annual holiday party this year. I had mild anxiety travelling to Michigan to visit my sister, nieces, and nephew for Thanksgiving: they live one suburb away from where a student hung a noose in a middle school bathroom.

A few friends posted this article about surving the next four years on Facebook, and it sparked something in the depression-and-anxiety-riddled recesses of my brain. Numbers 6 (Prioritizing Mental & Physical Health), 7 (Making Lists), and 8 (Finding Positivity Every Day) in particular spoke to me.

I agreed to summit Mt Baker next August, so that's a good fitness goal I can steer toward. As is the Seahawks 12K I think I finally want to run. I'm good at calendaring and making lists; it helps me find order and peace in the chaos around me. And recently, some glad tidings of great joy have surfaced.

Yesterday was one of the most exciting days of my life as a Seattle sports fan: the Seattle Sounders won the MLS Cup in a nail-biting final that took them all the way to PKs. (I always pace during PKs, even if I don't care about the teams involved. PKs are nerve-wracking.) It was such an amazing journey for the team... and though I was quite literally hyperventilating after extra time, for the first time in months it wasn't because of anything political.  It was a fantastic win, and my season ticket seatmate and I got to spend it together in a low-key atmosphere. Then I headed off to my home neighborhood to celebrate the milestone birthday of an old friend, and spent the rest of the night with good people I've known forever, who are basically family.

Today, I went to the small regional airport to welcome the team back home, cheering and chanting as they brought the MLS Cup off a plane. If thousands of fans cheering wildly and celebrating for two days straight isn't something to recognize as positivity, I don't know what is. Everyone was so happy and proud and excited, and in a bittersweet way it was what Election Night should have been.

Over Thanksgiving, while watching the MLS Western Conference final with my nieces and nephew, I noticed that 9-year-old Harmony was silent and not getting excited about the game. I told her, "Isn't it exciting? The Sounders can win this! I believe!" She looked sad and answered, "But Tia, you said the same thing about Hillary Clinton." (I did. I called her, jubilant and hopeful, right before heading out to the E-Day parties.)

I hope I (and frankly, our country) can restore trust and hope to my little niece's eyes. (At some point, my sister and I might need to talk to her about the differences between sports wins and political wins, and which of those scenarios we actually have a chance of influencing.)

So maybe this 12-year-old blog on a very outdated blog site (2017 goal: finally get around to purchasing a domain name) can help me re-center myself.

Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
    Would not we shatter it to bits -- and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!

 (73rd quatrain, The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Edward Fitzgerald translation)

Once more unto the breach

Every now and then, after I pay my overdue fines at the library, I get a slew of new books in my favorite mystery series. It can be a bit overwhelming. But I barricade myself at home until I am all caught up.

The latest two books in the Molly Murphy series have her solving a kidnapping and murder during the holidays, and then traveling across the Wild West to San Francisco just in time to experience the 1906 earthquake (while solving a case there too). All with a small child in tow, helpful well-connected bohemian lesbian friends, and a police captain husband who finally asks for her help in solving a case. All TOTALLY normal for the turn of the last century! But good fun even after stretching the historical imagination.

Even more of a historical stretch: the ongoing spy saga of Maggie Hope, the "secretary" who happens to have a mother who is an uber-Nazi strategist, a father who is a Bletchley genius, and a sister somewhere on the Continent in the Resistance. In the latest installment, PM Churchill lends her to Eleanor Roosevelt during a state visit. Mrs R, in turn, enlists her help in trying to overturn a capital punishment sentence for an African-American teenager framed for murder. The plot of each book in the series is so unbelievable (and the writing so breezy) that I think they'd make better sense in comic form -- a la Prince Valiant. And yet I can't stop reading. It's complete escapism -- modern social attitudes and barely-masked modern issues, wrapped in the quasi-nostalgic era of the "Good War".


In the opposite vein, I can't stop reading the Maisie Dobbs series for its utter melancholy. It takes the main character ten books and twenty years to finally get to a place where she can move beyond her personal trauma from WWI to find some happiness (which get snatched cruelly from her in Book 11); unfortunately, it happens on the brink of WWII so the readers watch as another war and trauma lurk in the future. The latest book has Maisie going on a mission to Munich to free a businessman important to Britain's war preparation effort. She solves a murder in the course of her duties, of course. And even though at the end of the story, she starts the process of setting up her old detective agency, it seems hardly likely that the next book will have her relegated to the sidelines of the coming conflict.

Or maybe I'm just bitter that The Bletchley Circle ended after only two seasons and Land Girls after only three.