SoapBoxBlog

The Princess and I have been trying to see as many movies that had been associated with the 2009 Oscars as possible this past couple weeks. I doubt we'll see Slum Dog Millionaire; I'm not sure why, but I'm just not motivated to see it at this time. Although, I do enjoy Bollywood movies as much as the next person -- especially the dance numbers, "screw in the light bulb, pet the dog"...

We watched Rachel Getting Married the other night. That movie was so weird that we almost shut it off. We ended up watching the whole thing and overall decided that we were glad we did. We ended up liking the whole quirky bunch of folks who ended making up her immediate and extended family. But they all seemed too real for comfort.

Then the night before last, we watched Gran Torino. Wow. That was a fantastic movie. It was up, down, funny, horrid, uncomfortable and it made you feel good. Every time Walt [Clint Eastwood] opened his mouth, I'd cringe, just waiting for the next inappropriate, racist comment that was going to pop out. But it all worked. The ending seemed a bit too perfect; exactly how and on what planet would all of the gang members have hung around after the fatal shooting so they could be instantly arrested? I think not. But, it was satisfying in its resolution and Thao got the car. I think the song at the end where Clint Eastwood is singing in his quiet, scratchy voice was almost... well, I want to say "creepy", but it was more ominous I guess. It was something I could imagine being played after his death that would make us all remember him in this movie and others and that would make us heave-cry. Clint Eastwood sang the song, "Gran Torino" and I love how after Clint sang/talked the first part, then how Jamie Cullum took over and sang a beautiful rendition of it. It made us sit through the credits without moving or speaking. Haunting.

Next, we're going to see The Reader. It's not our typical Friday night movie; we prefer action movies to drama for that. But we also have the second season of Weeds on DVD to watch [we're slowly catching up; halfway through to the 4th season!], in case The Reader proves to be too heavy a tale for a Friday.

Today is Duncan's 11th birthday. He's the only we have left now and he's in excellent health except for a recent discovery that may or may not impact his life and ours. He has Feline Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM). And he's asymptomatic, which means he's not displaying any of the usual symptoms: lethargy, poor appetite, panting/troubled breathing. Because of that, it's most likely that one day he'll just die in his sleep.

We've decided against medication, as it would make him lethargic, give him a poor appetite and would generally take away all that makes life a joy for him. It would also stress him a great deal, which is obviously something you want to avoid when heart disease is involved. We don't believe in prolonging his life if he won't enjoy the life he's living. So we're letting him play, eat, poop, lay in the sun and do what makes him happy until such time as he passes on.

Happy birthday, Duncan!

Mr. Grumble-bunny