Reimagining Star Wars

When we last saw Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Princess Leia, they were on a forest moon, celebrating the death of the Emperor and the downfall of the Empire, surrounded by happy Ewoks and the ghosts of Yoda, Darth Vader, and Obi Wan Kenobi.

Next year, they’ll be back.  The new installment of Star Wars begins filming in a few weeks, and all of the original cast members, including Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher and Mark Hamill, as well as the actors who played Chewbacca, R2D2 and C3PO, will be back.  They’ll be joined by some new folks as well as the actor who plays the distasteful boyfriend character on Girls, who apparently will be a villain.  Obviously, the story will take place years after the end of Return of the Jedi.

When George Lucas decided to make The Phantom Menace, he was taking a risk in reinvigorating a beloved and colossally popular movie franchise — but the risk involved in reintroducing the familiar characters from the original Star Wars movies in this latest feature is even greater.  What has happened to Han and Leia?  Did they get married and have kids, or did something happen to keep them apart?  Do any of the characters die?  Whatever happens, people will be second-guessing the story, and the fact that this new film won’t be directed by George Lucas is just going to increase the scrutiny.

I loved the original Star Wars films and fondly remember watching the first movie at the old University Flick theatre next to the Ohio State campus and then going back to see it again and again.  I’m looking forward to being reintroduced to some of the most iconic movie characters of all time, but I’m warning new director J.J. Abrams — handle with care.

The Trilateral Commission, Once More

Diplomats are expected to be careful and judicious in their speech — which is why the word “diplomatic” found its way into everyday speech — but U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry is the exception to the rule.  He seemingly has a knack for ill-advised comments.

In recent remarks, Kerry said that Israel risks becoming an “apartheid state” if it doesn’t reach a peace agreement with Palestinians.  Of course, “apartheid” is a highly loaded word, evoking images of the repressive and racist South African regime that imprisoned Nelson Mandela.  Kerry’s statement was promptly and roundly criticized by supporters of Israel from both sides of the aisle, and Kerry then apologized, saying he wished he could rewind the tape and use a different word — although he blamed the chorus of criticism in part on “partisan, political purposes.”

What’s interesting about the story is not Kerry’s blunder — we should all be used to that by now — but that it happened at a super-secret, closed-door meeting of the Trilateral Commission.  For decades, the Trilateral Commission has been a favorite target of conspiracy theorists, who have depicted is as a kind of shadow world government that puts people into positions of power and then pulls the strings.

So, how did someone get a recording of a powerful figure speaking to the Commission?  It turns out that a journalist just walked into the meeting — he “slipped past both Commission staff and Diplomatic Security,” according to a letter of apology the North American chair of the Commission wrote to Kerry — and recorded Kerry’s remarks.  The incident therefore doesn’t reflect the kind of approach to security you’d expect from the  hyper-competent, brooding omnipresence depicted by the conspiracy-minded.

So, perhaps John Kerry’s latest bit of thoughtless floundering may have a positive impact after all:  it may finally strike the Trilateral Commission from the list of organizations that are the focus of international intrigue and the latest conspiracy theories.

Cranes On The Water

The Seattle waterfront features some enormous cranes used, no doubt, for significant ship repair purposes.  We were far away, so it was hard to determine just how large they were — but from a distance they looked remarkably like their namesakes, flocking to the water and stretching out their necks to drink.

The Blue Jackets Go Down Swinging

The Columbus Blue Jackets lost last night, 4-3, and we knocked out of the playoffs by the Pittsburgh Penguins.

It’s not an unexpected result — the Penguins were the higher seed and swept the CBJ during the regular season — but it’s an unfortunate one, because there was all kinds of happy buzz in Columbus about the Blue Jackets during the last few weeks.  The happy buzz grew as the Blue Jackets won their first playoff game ever, then won a second game on a last-second thriller.  Even during the losses the Blue Jackets fought hard and scrapped and made the going tough for the talented Penguins.  In last night’s game the CBJ trailed, 4-0, after two periods but they battled back to bring the game to 4-3.  They couldn’t quite get the tying goal that would have raised the roof — but the team’s lack of quit is impressive.

I’m not a believer is moral victories, but I am hoping that this season and the exciting playoff series galvanize Columbus hockey fans and motivate this very young Blue Jackets team to greater achievements next year.  With a few playoff wins under their belt this year, CBJ fans believe the future is bright and are hoping that the team contends for the Stanley Cup next year.  It would be a great thing for Columbus.

Global Nerd

I’ve always liked maps and globes.  I like the look of them, and I like the way that they can change.  I remember discovering an old atlas in my grandparents’ attic, leafing through it, and wondering about exotic places like the Ottoman Empire that could only be found on an outdated geography book.

I think maps are cool, so I was grinning ear to ear when Kish and I stumbled upon Metsker Maps in Seattle.  What a fantastic store!  It’s crammed stem to stern with standup globes, miniature globes, inflatable globes, wall maps, fold-out maps, ancient framed maps, hiking maps, and books about maps — as well as incidentals like a good pocket compass.

After wandering around for a while with a  kid-like look on my face, I went up to the guy behind the counter and said:  “This is the coolest store I’ve been in in years!”  He nodded knowingly, recognizing that I was just another globe geek who was letting my nerd flag fly.

Giving Up Golf

Golf has a problem:  it’s hard to be good at it.  Golf has another problem:  it’s expensive.  And, golf takes time to play.  In short, it’s not exactly a game calculated to appeal to a younger generation that grew up playing video games and getting participation trophies and positive feedback for every endeavor.

So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that golf participation is declining.  Five million people have given up the game in the last decade, and more golfers are expected to quit in the next few years.  People under 35, especially, aren’t into the game.  (That’s true in the Webner family, too, where Richard and Russell have shown no interest whatsoever in golf.)

If you own a golf course, this trend is a serious concern.  In many communities, like Columbus, there was a golf course building boom in the ’80s and ’90s, and now many of those courses are struggling — with some private clubs becoming public or semi-public or folding entirely.  Golf courses are economically viable only if there are players willing to pay to play.

The response to the decline in players has been interesting.  Rather than figuring out how to encourage people to see the beauty of the game in its current form, some want to change the game radically to try to make it “fun.”  Among the ideas include a much bigger hole on greens, giving players a mulligan every hole, allowing people to throw the ball out of sand traps — what my grandmother called using her “hand mashie” — and letting people tee up the ball on every shot.

I’m no golf purist, but these kinds of ideas seem like a panicky reaction that would ruin the game rather than popularize it.  The golf establishment should simply accept that golf is not going to appeal to everyone, and if a few golf courses fail, so be it.  Golf is supposed to be a struggle, and it inevitably will have its frustrations.  It’s not a sport for someone looking for immediate gratification.  The attraction of the game is not easily shooting low scores, but rather legitimately improving with practice so that when you do play a good round it really means something.

I haven’t been able to swing a club for months because of my foot, but I’m looking forward to the day when my doctor gives me the go-ahead to get back on the links.  I’m sure I’ll curse my ineptitude, but at least it will be golf I’m playing — not some bastardized effort to appeal to impatient people with short attention spans who need constant reinforcement.

Under The Needle

Seattle’s Space Needle was built as part of the 1962 World’s Fair and was supposed to reflect the architecture of the future.  Fifty years later, it still looks so much like a backdrop from a Jetsons episode you expect to see a Spacely Sprockets sign on top.  Sure, it’s kitschy, but it’s also kind of cool, and it’s fun to check it out from different vantage points.

SAM, I Am

Yesterday Kish and I visited the Seattle Art Museum — also known as SAM.  It’s located smack dab in the middle of Seattle’s bustling downtown, and it’s worth a visit.

I like going to art museums I’m not familiar with, because you’re almost always surprised.  Sometimes it’s a good surprise, sometimes it’s not.  SAM falls on the positive side of the ledger.  It’s a big, sprawling facility, with all kinds of nooks and crannies to explore.  Every time you turn a corner, you see something interesting.

During our visit, the displays included an extensive and compelling Joan Miro exhibit — boy, he sure liked to paint birds and women! — and a fabulous and beautiful collection of blown glass objects that included numerous pieces by Dale Chihuly.  The museum’s standard collection is impressive and includes an interesting early American section, which blends portraits, landscapes, furniture, and other objects, Italian and French rooms, modern pieces by Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko, and some whimsical and thought-provoking sculptures, including an untitled piece by American artist Marlo Pascual that featured a ’40s-style glamour shot of an unknown, sad-eyed woman on which a rock had been positioned to look like a hat.

My favorite part of the collection was a large array of indigenous art, including some fantastic masks and costumes and sculptures.  The masks in particular were riveting.  As I looked at the colorful depictions of serpents and wolves, I thought of the strong connection the indigenous peoples felt to the natural world and how we have largely lost that connection in modern America.  Maybe the piece featuring the well-dressed woman with the rock on her head speaks to that, too.

Truthful Signage

In Seattle’s Pioneer Square district you will find arguably the most truthful sign in the United States.  But even though it gave me a laugh, I didn’t go in — free admission or no.

Market Magic

Like many cities, Seattle has a central marketplace.  This one is crammed with flower stalls, meat markets, restaurants, fishmongers, vegetable purveyors, fresh crab on ice, jugglers, ukelele players, and bars.  Needless to say, it’s a beehive of activity.

Long ago, virtually every big city had sprawling central market buildings.  In the last century, many cities tore them down, reasoning that they weren’t needed as people moved to the suburbs and the supermarkets began to rule the food world.  A few cities held on — and they should be happy they did.  Whenever Kish and I visit a new place that has a central market, that’s always a stop on our itinerary, and inevitably the central market is a fun, interesting place that puts the city in a good light.

Twitter Turnabout

Twitter is a good example of a double-edged sword.  When companies or entities try to use it for positive PR purposes, as often as not it backfires, and what is generated instead is embarrassing and often humorous.

As a very recent example, consider the New York City Police Department.  Some genius decided it would be helpful to ask people to tweet their pictures with members of the police force with the hashtag #myNYPD.  Clearly, the Department envisioned smiling photos of citizens and friendly, blue-coated officers.

But what actually happened didn’t go according to that plan.  Instead, people started tweeting photos of police officers handcuffing suspects, lashing out with batons, and otherwise engaging in less positive interactions with members of the public.  Other tweets identified people who had been shot to death by police and complaining about police brutality — as well as ripping the NYPD for a self-inflicted PR disaster.

The NYPD example probably should be taught in PR classes about use of social media.  What are the key elements of this colossal blunder?  One is a person or entity who lacks significant awareness of how they are actually perceived by the public and therefore can’t envision the negative tweets that their campaign might generate.  It’s hard to imagine that any police department would be blind to the fact that they aren’t adored by a significant percentage of the public — after all, the police regularly issue tickets, order people around, and arrest and apprehend suspects who proclaim their innocence, and those people have families and friends — but the NYPD apparently falls into that category. That’s amazing, and suggests that the PR decisionmakers aren’t adequately acquainted with reality.

A second element is a lack of understanding of human nature.  People who are angry and negative are far more motivated to post something than people who are happy and positive.  Tourists who were helped by members of the NYPD aren’t likely to take a photo or be aware of a Twitter campaign about the NYPD — but somebody who is convinced that the cops routinely engage in racial profiling will be monitoring and ready to spring when an ill-advised campaign gets underway.

If I were a company or a public entity, I’d be very cautious about inviting Twitter chatter.  Our grandmothers told us, “be careful what you ask for” — and that was wise advice,

Sunny Seattle?

Maybe it’s just the sunny blue skies after days of rain and clouds in Vancouver, but Kish and I are liking Seattle a lot already.  Its waterfront area is beautiful, and we relished the opportunity to walk in the sunshine and breathe deep the cool ocean air.

I’ve never been to Seattle before, and I don’t know much about the city.  I understood it rains a lot here, but today it was beautiful and bright.  It makes me wonder whether my knowledge about Seattle is not only embarrassingly limited, but also misplaced.  Could it be that Here Come The Brides also was not historically accurate, and that in Seattle’s early days Jason, Joshua, and Jeremy Bolt didn’t joust with the evil, greed-addled Aaron Stempel over control of the future of the city, while boozy sea captain Clancy chased after Lottie, the tart-tongued tavern owner with a heart of gold?

Oysters, And Oyster Stew

We’re in Seattle, where we are having dinner tonight with some friends we haven’t seen in years.  To get ready for the festivities, we took a walk along Seattle’s beautiful waterfront on a bright, sunny day.  The weather gods were with us.

For lunch we stopped at a place called the Place Pigalle in the sprawling Public Market Center a few blocks from the waterfront.  The food gods were with us, too, because the Place Pigalle was excellent.  When you’re on the coast, you need to seriously consider seafood, and I’m a sucker for shellfish.  When I saw oysters on the half shell and oyster stew on the menu, I decided to double up.

The oysters on the half shell were excellent — fresh, succulent, and served with a tart, vinegar-based dip.  They were the perfect complement to a tasty unfiltered wheat ale.  And the oyster stew was fabulously rich and creamy, with four huge whole oysters lurking just below the surface.  It was a fantastic meal and a great way to start our Seattle visit, and reminded us of what we’re missing in landlocked Columbus, Ohio.

The TV In The Bathroom Mirror

Our hotel in Vancouver, the Fairmont Pacific Rim, is one of those new hotels that has just about every electronic gizmo you can imagine.  There are buttons to control the drapes and the sheers on the windows, buttons to turn on, turn off, and dim the lights . . . and there is a TV in the bathroom mirror.

That’s right — a TV in the bathroom mirror.  It’s  built right into the mirror itself, distinguishable from the rest of the mirror only by a dim outline until you turn it on.  It’s directly above the sink, with its own remote control unit.

So, thanks to the wonders of modern technology, you can watch TV while you shave or brush your teeth, and because the walls of the shower stall are glass you can watch TV while you are taking a shower, too.  O, Brave New World!

I think we watch too much TV already.  I certainly don’t need to watch TV while I am attending to life’s little necessities.

Shakin’ All Over

Last night Kish and I were at a dinner for the conference I’m attending here in Vancouver when we noticed an odd sensation.  I looked up at one of the hanging light fixtures and saw that it was swaying noticeably from side to side.

At first, I thought it was the overly vigorous dancing of some of our fellow attendees, who were stoked with alcohol and out cutting a rug to a live band.  After all, when dozens of apparently well-lubricated people are twisting, gyrating, stomping, shimmying, and mashed potatoing to their maximum capability, it’s not unreasonable to expect the light fixtures to feel the impact.  But it wasn’t the dancing — it was an honest-to-God earthquake, coming in at 6.7 magnitude on the Richter scale, that set the light fixtures to trembling.  And then it was over before we realized it.

I’ve been in very mild earthquakes before, but this one made our visit to Vancouver special.  Having lived through a noticeable tremor, we feel we can truly say that we have experienced the west coast.