July 31st, 2006

Monday July 31st, 2006

Recently on TV DVD
Me and mine are well into the third season of "Monk", and though we knew it was coming, Sharona's leaving the show was rather abrupt and left me sad. I DO like the new assistant, Natalie, not just the character, but also the actress herself, played by Traylor Howard. She's playing with the sort of no-BS attitude that is required to act as a foil for Monk's character, and though she's one of those cute-as-a-button types, she pulls it off. Whereas Sharona's tenacity was explained by her being a nurse with a deadbeat ex, this one's a bartender and a widow; the factor, I think, that makes them both what Monk needs is that they are both Moms of adolescents. Everyone says that what Monk needs is a wife, but obviously it's a mom he needs, just at that age when a person doesn't need to be "mothered" anymore but still needs to be protected from themselves. That's what Monk is, basically, the opposite of a child prodigy-- he's an idiot-savant, except that his "idiocy" is a factor of his dealing with disorder.

Also I've been watching the third season of "Millennium", and one episode guest starred Juliet Landau, who played Drusilla on Buffy. On Buffy she plays it with a biritsh accent, and I pretty much hate it, but she used her regular American voice on Millennium, and that was fine. It was weird to see her acting "normal," of course; on the other hand, she played a pregnat woman who's baby was kidnapped, so that's not really too normal. So far, that's two Buffyites I've seen on Millennium now... maybe more if there where some in small roles I simply didn't recognize. I'm sure there's some fan site that lists all of this.

Kwando Class
I am obviously getting old, and obviously I am getting Alzheimer's, because there is no way my brain is functioning at anything approaching peak efficiency. I don't see how I could have been fully in my right mind when the GF suggested, and I agreed to, attending a Kwando class at the gym. That's a good name for it, too, and apparently a new name-- the old name, "Watch the Fat White Boy Fall to Pieces Class," was not attracting enough customers. The horrible irony of this is that now I am so sore, I won't be able to react properly the next time the GF suggests the class-- by punching my way through a nearby wall and hiding in the woodwork until she goes away.

It's not humbling for me to watch a woman snap punches and kicks for an hour while I try to remember the difference between a hook and a cross. Years of questionable sneaker purchases have led me to aerobics classes where I learned that God's plan was to punish sinners with perkiness. So I'm used to it. Our teacher, I have to give her credit, was very encouraging, and challenged us without going too fast or leaving us behind. But damn. "Jab! Cross! Hook! Uppercut! Knee-strike roundhouse!" I was sweating after 2 minutes. I tried to hold something back, in case she wanted us to do the move where you punch your opponent in the chest and take out their still-beating heart and show it to them. After 10 minutes the fact that I was my own opponent only meant I was ready and willing to pull out my own heart-- what was left of it. And you've heard the term punch-drunk, where one is groggy from having been beat-up… I was the opposite, "having-punched-the-air-drunk," such that for me it was "Jah! Crosh! Hood! Up'rcup! Knee-stripe Ow Why's The Floor Hitting My Face?"

So, four stars, since if I put fewer I am a total wimp. I am still sore today, two days later, and expect to be a few days more. But damn, it was worth 7 weight watchers exercise points. I might even go back. Or finally get that prescription for galantamine.

Kickball
Kickball last night, against another team of poke-master deluxes, who despite the wind where able to boot the ball well into our outfield, resulting in a few homeruns. Yes, we lost. I was first up, kicked a single after fouling into an observing dog, and on the run from first to second on the next kick, pulled something in my left leg. I hobbled to third, but we three-outed before I could go home. And that was me out. Fortunately, we have lots of people there, so I benched myself the rest of the game. I had fun anyway, cause our team is the nicest and coolest in the league, and we all laugh a lot in the dugout. We start a new season on the 17th, and we're going to play on Thursdays, which will free-up Sundays… what am I going to do on Sundays? Dare I say, stand-up? No promises, friends, but perhaps a smidgen of hope.