Kelly Hager Movie Hall of Fame (Latest Inductions)

BACKSTORY:  A conversation with my best friend John resulted in the creation of The Kelly Hager Movie Hall of Fame.  The first six movies chosen were The Godfather, Heathers, Casablanca, The Princess Bride, Rocky and When Harry Met Sally…

CRITERIA:  Each month, two movies will be chosen.  One will be a classic and the other will be contemporary (read: within my lifetime).  The contemporary movie will be at least 10 years old, as that way, the movie will have proven staying power.

THE NEW PICKS:

Jaws.  I absolutely adore this movie, and so many of the reasons why were more or less accidents.  Jaws is one of the scariest movies ever made and a huge part for that is because the shark wasn’t working properly.  Because of that, for most of the movie, you only see a fin and hear the music.  (Also, reportedly the first time Spielberg heard the score, he thought it was a joke…until he saw a scene with the music playing during it.) I seriously live in fear of the day they decide to remake this movie because there’s no way Hollywood will manage to get it right a second time.

The Shawshank Redemption.  This is one of the best movies ever made and I’m sure you’re all sick of me complaining about how it should’ve won Best Picture but didn’t (I would’ve also accepted Pulp Fiction over the comparatively awful Forrest Gump).  But this movie is so much better than it had any right to be.  Conventional wisdom says that if you set a movie in a limited setting and make it probably, what, 95% talking to 5% action at best, it will fail?  Well, not when you cast Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman, base it off a Stephen King novella and get a great screenwriter and director.  If you haven’t seen this movie…well, I’m sad for you, but it’s on cable all the time.  Change that.

Jackson, The World’s Best Dog

So those of you who know my mom well enough to receive the family Christmas newsletter know her dog Jackson.  For most of his life, he “wrote” the newsletter and updated everyone on our lives.

We got him my freshman year of college and immediately fell in love.  He was a tiny Yorkie and never got much bigger.  Upon reaching adulthood, he was generally in the four to five pound range.  Until he got cataracts, he resembled a smaller version of Sam.

He was supposed to be my dog, but he quickly bonded with her instead and by the time I lived in a building that would let me have dogs, there was no question of him coming to be with me full time.  Mom said it wouldn’t be fair to Jack, but let’s be honest: I’m pretty sure she’s the one that it wouldn’t have been fair to.

Jack wasn’t a people person.  If you were in his circle, he loved you, but if you weren’t family or a close friend, he would rather be with my mom, thanks.  He definitely loved her the most, but I’m pretty sure that I was second best.  I am not ashamed to admit that I bought his affection with french fries and pizza.  (You do what you need to do.)

Jack was definitely the most empathetic dog I’ve known.  Whereas Sam would prefer you not be sad near him (crying keeps him from his naps), Jack always knew when you needed the comfort of petting a dog and would volunteer to be that dog.

Jack died today.  He was old (14) and frail.  He had cataracts in both eyes and wasn’t walking very well.  I mention that because intellectually, I know that he’s better now.  He’s running around in heaven, hopefully with my dad, grandmother and cousin, and he’s having the best time.  He’s probably eaten his weight in french fries and is now enjoying the fuss they’re making over him.  And I’m happy that he’s not suffering at all anymore.

But that’s all I’m happy about, because this sucks.  This has been an awful year; I seriously feel like I just keep getting knocked down over and over and over again, and I hate it.  I just want this year to stop.

And I miss Jack.  He was prickly and outspoken and an unapologetic food beggar.  But he was sweet and smart and the best dog in the world.

Banished

Finished Banished by Lauren Drain.  I received a copy from the publisher on Netgalley.  For more information on Lauren and her time with Westboro, click here.  Her Facebook page is here.

Summary (from Goodreads):

“You’ve likely heard of the WestboroBaptistChurch. Perhaps you’ve seen their pickets on the news, the members holding signs with messages that are too offensive to copy here, protesting at events such as the funerals of soldiers, the 9-year old victim of the recent Tucson shooting, and Elizabeth Edwards, all in front of their grieving families. The WBC is fervently anti-gay, anti-Semitic, and anti- practically everything and everyone. And they aren’t going anywhere: in March, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of the WBC’s right to picket funerals.

Since no organized religion will claim affiliation with the WBC, it’s perhaps more accurate to think of them as a cult. Lauren Drain was thrust into that cult at the age of 15, and then spat back out again seven years later. BANISHED is the first look inside the organization, as well as a fascinating story of adaptation and perseverance.

Lauren spent her early years enjoying a normal life with her family in Florida. But when her formerly liberal and secular father set out to produce a documentary about the WBC, his detached interest gradually evolved into fascination, and he moved the entire family to Kansas to join the church and live on their compound. Over the next seven years, Lauren fully assimilated their extreme beliefs, and became a member of the church and an active and vocal picketer. But as she matured and began to challenge some of the church’s tenets, she was unceremoniously cast out from the church and permanently cut off from her family and from everyone else she knew and loved. BANISHED is the story of Lauren’s fight to find herself amidst dramatic changes in a world of extremists and a life in exile.”

This is such a strange book to talk about.  It’s probably the most revealing insight into the Westboro Baptist Church but at the same time, I think it could’ve been better.  In particular, I wish Lauren Drain had been more open about certain things.  For example, she could’ve explained exactly why she agreed so readily with their doctrine.  Instead, she said, “It made sense to me” or similar things.

It’s also very obvious that a lot of the church’s appeal is the fact that her dad was so into the members.  She loved her dad and wanted their close relationship back, and the fastest way to do that is to really throw herself into their belief system.

The most interesting aspect of the book for me is in the fact that it shows the WBC members as people.  Yes, I am horrified by their behavior (and as a Christian, lesbian and human being, I think I am within my rights to feel that way) but there are other aspects to their personalities that aren’t readily available.  Shirley Phelps-Roper, for example, is also portrayed as one of the best mothers possible.  And I think that—while we obviously will never be friends—it’s important to remember that we’re all better than the worst things we’ve done.

Unlike her friend Megan Phelps-Roper, Lauren Drain didn’t leave the church.  Instead, she got thrown out.  But even so, I think her story is still one of bravery and strength.  Her choice wasn’t in whether or not to leave the church; it was how to learn to survive completely on her own, as well as how to essentially build her faith from the ground up.

But What About The Frogs And Superheroes?

So if you are my friend on Facebook, you may have noticed some interesting posts on my wall lately.

As backstory, I have co-opted my friend Lindsey’s kids as my godchildren.  They’re smart, funny, good kids and I have no doubt that they’re going to do amazing things in the world.  I see how much they care about things and people now, and I can’t wait to see what their lives will be like as they get older.  And since I don’t plan to have kids, I’m hoping that one of them makes a lot of money and remembers me fondly and, at the very least, puts me in one of the better nursing homes. ;)

A. likes to teach me things (and I’ll be honest; she’s already better at science than I am—by a LOT) and J. doesn’t talk to me as much but he likes to check in every so often.  We like to talk about movies and superheroes.

And tonight, within a few minutes of each other, they both put messages on my wall about how sometimes girls like girls and that’s okay, too.

So I texted Lindsey to see if she had had a conversation with the kids about gay people.  And yes, she had.  Because they asked what it meant to be gay, so she told them.  And then they asked if they knew anyone who was gay.  And she told them they did and how I prefer the ladies.

And they seriously couldn’t have cared less.  J. just wanted to make sure I still liked superheroes (I DO!  I’ve loved Batman since I was little and I have a huge fondness for Spiderman and Superman AND I just got The Avengers for my birthday, which I am crazy excited to watch) and A. wanted to tell me more about frogs and the noises they make.

That’s how I know that equal rights for everyone is pretty much a done deal.  A. and J. don’t see people in terms of gay or straight.  They see it in terms of whether you’re a good person or not, whether you like superheroes or not, whether you think frogs are cute or not.

I just need to wait until they’re running the world.

Giveaway!

The awesome folks at St. Martin’s have sent me a copy of If You Find Me by Emily Murdoch to pass along. Click here for more info about the book.

It comes out on March 26, so this contest will go until March 15. That way, if you don’t win, you can still preorder it!

To enter, leave a comment.

Well Played, Subconscious!

I now have so many books to read and review that really, all times that I’m not sleeping or working, I’m probably reading or blogging about what I’ve read.

Which makes sense because I now have 130 books to read and review.  Not a typo: literally one hundred and thirty books to read and review.  With more coming.

And it occurred to me that I’ve probably done that on purpose because since I realized just how many books there are that need to be read and reviewed (and again, these are books I got to review—they don’t even count the book club book or books I own that I want to read.  JUST REVIEW BOOKS!), I have been very, very calm.

Stressing about stupid stuff?  Noticing how close we are to the anniversary of my dad’s death?  Ain’t nobody got time for that!

So a hearty “Well played!” to my subconscious.

Milestones

In one month, my dad will have been dead for 15 years.  In two years, he’ll have been out of my life for as long as he was in it, which means that in three years, he’ll have been out of my life for longer than he was in it.

I turn 33 this year.  In five years, I’ll finally be older than Rodger.  When I was little, that was all I wanted and I couldn’t understand why I’d never catch up.  Now that I will, turns out it’s not cool like I thought it would be.

I found out last night that you can undelete voicemails on the iPhone—every voicemail you delete actually gets saved until you delete it for good.  Which is awesome; turns out I have three messages from Rodger.  It’s typical stuff, nothing that you’d normally want saved for posterity.  But at the same time, it’s nice.  It’s his voice, and I can listen to it any time I want.  (In theory.  In reality, I don’t, because it turns me into a mess.  And I prefer not being a mess.  But eventually it’ll be nice.)

It’s also good that I’m a card hoarder.  That happened after Dad died.  Now pretty much every card I get gets saved—it’s funny; I even have things from people I’m not friends with anymore.  But still, it’s mine and I have it.  Because you never know when something’s the last thing you’ll get.

There’s a lot of petty nonsense in my life right now, and most of it’s annoying.  And I’ve been made fun of a little bit for being annoyed by said nonsense.  But what people don’t understand is that getting annoyed by dumb stuff is better than realizing all of the above two paragraphs.  It’s better than thinking about how I’m 32 years old and half my family is dead.  And it’s better than wondering about who will be next among the people I love.  Because I don’t have the luxury of pretending that we’re all going to live forever.

Do I really care about stupid things?  No.  But I’m willing to pretend I do, because being annoyed is always better than being sad.

And even being sad is better than being devastated which is where I am today (and honestly, lately).

This is my least favorite time of year and as we get closer to my dad’s death day, I spiral a little bit (and this year is obviously worse than most).  So please understand that when I’m mad, I’m not really mad.  I’m just trying to balance out.

Polly Stewart, Eshet Chayil

Sunday night, I found out that my former professor, Dr. Polly Stewart, had died.

I’m not the most qualified person to eulogize Polly, but everyone should know what kind of person she was so they realize what those of us who did know her realize: the world is worse now.

She wasn’t cool in the conventional sense.  Polly was the person who would wear sandals and socks.  But she was cool in a better, more lasting way.  She was what is referred to in the Bible as “eshet chayil.”  Polly was a woman of valor.

She lived and taught in my hometown (Salisbury) for 30-some years.  She came out long before Ellen did, long before it was safe to do so.  Salisbury was a small town and not particularly open-minded.  But Polly created a community for Eastern Shore GLBT people.

I came out when I was in college.  Polly was a huge help and I was incredibly out on campus because she had blazed that trail for me.

She was the adviser for the college “gay group” and took several of us on a field trip to DC for the Millennium March.  I’m pretty sure if for nothing else, she earned a place in heaven for taking a bunch of gay and bi kids in their late teens and early twenties out in public.

But she DID do so much more than that.  She was a huge resource in every group she was a part of and it’s impossible for me to express the impact she had on my life.

She (metaphorically) held my hand after my heart was stomped into pieces by several different women over the course of several different semesters.    When I was looking for my biological family, she always had a word of encouragement.  And she gave me my first book “for review.”  It was, of course, about folklore.  Because as much as she adored all the groups she was a part of, folklore was her true love.

She was tremendously brave, incredibly kind and both smart and clever.  She made every room better just by being in it and she made everyone she met better versions of themselves because they knew her.

She was a woman of valor.  I hope to grow up to be half as amazing and compassionate as she was.

(Credit: Facebook)

Three Weeks

Three weeks ago today, I woke up and learned that my cousin Rodger had died.

I talked about it a lot that first week and I’ve tried to not talk about it that much since because he would not appreciate me becoming a griefball.  And because there’s really not that much to say about it besides, “This really fucking sucks.”  Which is true, incidentally.  Really. Fucking. Sucks.

And the family has all scattered back to their respective corners—Monica and Marley back in California, my aunt and uncle back in Florida, me in Baltimore and my mom in Salisbury.  It was good to be together but it’s good to be back to our routines, too.

Except that I’m really not back in my routine.  Generally, as you know, I am a hardcore reader and I haven’t been reading anywhere near as much lately (the final tally for January was 15 books, I think, which is about 50% below what my total would normally be).  And it’s weird because usually when things are hard, I escape into books like nobody’s business.  Nothing to see here, move along, I’m just gonna enjoy the new Gayle Forman over here.  (Which incidentally I still have not read and won’t get to for ages because it is going to be all review books all the time until I make a better dent in this pile.)

You know that X Files episode (I think it was the third, maybe fourth, of the first season) that’s basically a take off of The Thing?  The Arctic researchers who have that weird alien parasite that takes them over and they say “We’re not who we are”?

I’m not who I am.

And so I did what I always do when I feel like everything’s falling apart all around me.  I called my best friend Jen.  And while I don’t know when I will be me again or how to get back there or even how to fake it consistently (although I have to say, I think I’m mostly doing an excellent job; ask me about my Oscar predictions!), it’s just wonderful to talk to someone who will remember who I am and who will keep reminding me until I can figure out how to get and stay there.

And I keep focusing on this (no reading, random inability to spell or think) so I don’t have to think about the reason everything’s so different.  Because it’s awful when I think about that.

So anyway.  Three weeks down.  An entire life to go.

Giveaway!

So, you’ve all heard me speak of The Pull of Gravity, my beloved YA contemporary novel by the awesome Gae Polisner? I think it’s come up in conversation here, yes?

TPoG, as I call it, is one of my most favorite books and I love promoting it as often as I can. And on Feb. 5, it comes out in paperback! So in honor of that, I’m doing a giveaway. (US only; sorry.)

Leave me a comment to enter. Contest ends on release day.