Year: 2010

Why does Heroes suck?

If you follow my ramblings outside this here blog you may already realize that I made the big mistake of catching up with Heroes. Yeah, yeah, I realize you all stopped watching by the end of the second season – good for you. Me? I needed real confirmation that the writers never got their heads out of the asses. And boy did I get it.

So right now I’m watching the second episode of the final season of Lost – another “sci fi” show with an excellent first season that suffered through some down times – wondering how they managed to avoid the same pitfalls. And then it hit me – Heroes tried to be Lost, while Lost was content being itself.

While the writers of Lost have spent plenty of time (too much on occasion) developing characters, they realize that the driving force behind their show is the mystery of the island. As convoluted as the show gets, we’re all just sitting on the hypothetical edge of our seats waiting for the final pieces to the puzzle to be revealed. And that’s what keeps the show moving forward and, more importantly, keeps the audience interested.

Heroes, on the other hand, found such success in its first season thanks to the intrigue of watching people discover their powers all while moving forward to a singular goal. While there were some mysterious elements (e.g. “The Company”, who was really good or bad) that was all secondary. Yet they decided that, after a season of horrendous teenage love angst, those should be the driving force. But how many times can you really debate over whether or not Sylar is bad? (He is) Or whose side HRG is on? (His own) And its not just those characters, any new characters (or old ones brought to the forefront) get the same exact treatment. Did anyone, even for a second, buy that Nathan and HRG’s government agency was a good idea for anyone? Or that this stupid carny character was anything but evil? No. So why pretend that it’s a mystery?

And this is skipping over the fact that the writers seem to think intrigue is developed simply by characters not telling each other anything. Or that a pseudo-lesbian “subplot” was thrown in out of nowhere. Or that Sylar is practically unstoppable, yet every time he is stopped the “heroes” let him go. Or any number of other ridiculous plot devices bogging down what was such a solid idea all those years ago…

Will I watch next season? Maybe the same way I did the second half of this season – online while skipping through about 80% of it. But I’d rather they just cancel the series right now. Who cares if the finale left the door open for the next chapter. Does anyone believe the next one will suddenly stop sucking?

I love my 50mm

I have been rather inactive in my pursuit of photography of late. Sometimes you just gotta switch lenses to see the world a little differently and get some inspiration. Other times you just need to step back a bit and gain some new perspective. My personal favorite lens (Canon EF 50mm f/1.4 USM) has a tendency towards tight shots thanks to its focal length (coupled with a digital back):

This is her 80s retro look

Beautiful? Of course. But after 800 shots or so, they can all start to look the same. But then you step back, and a whole new photo comes into view:

Showing more of our house has the potential for great embarassment

And now we have something else. The true beauty of a prime lens is that it forces you to be active in taking a photograph – none of this twisting and turning to get the framing right, you have to move your body. It makes me feel more like I’m taking a photograph and not just pressing a button.

I’ll miss this when it’s done

Kayleigh has been teething for the last… oh… 6 or 8 months. Maybe not continuously, but it sure feels that way. As soon as one tooth makes its way through, about 3 or 4 follow right behind. By my calculations she’s gotta have at least 40 or 50 in there. This has to end soon, right?

Alright, this latest bout appears to be on the mend, but if not for the Motrin – the patron Saint of parenthood sleep – I’m not sure our sanity would have made it through. Not only have the sharp objects poking through her gums been driving her bonkers, but her recent attempts at staking a claim to some amount of independence has occasionally made it difficult to sympathize. I am not necessarily a strong man, so let’s just say that it’s a good thing she’s too young to understand certain diatribes that may have been spoken out loud.

As much as I curse the day she began making diaper changes a stressful activity (after 18 months they suddenly bother her? wtf?) and look forward to a time when she’ll sometimes answer with a “yes” instead of the constant barrage of “no”, the reality is these things just aren’t that big of a deal. Already my memories of 3 AM wakings with her curling up in my arms while I skip another 3 or 4 hours of sleep for her benefit have developed a sense of fondness. Even those horrible nights in Florida when she rarely slept more than 2 or 3 hours straight and forced us to watch Brainy Baby videos in the middle of the night seem sweet today.

Why?

Like I said, this is the easy stuff. As much as parents grow anxious to ditch the diaper days, how many are excited by the prospect of dealing with the teenage years? I’m not about to romanticize the overwhelming lack of sleep, but how many of those really difficult life situations Kayleigh faces in the future will be solved by rocking her for an hour in the middle of the night? Do you think some Motrin hidden in apple sauce will get her through junior high?

Last night I came close to losing my cool during another butchering of our bedtime routine, but reminding myself that she’ll get over these new teeth soon enough and a couple bad nights really aren’t a big deal certainly helped me in the face of tonight’s disaster. We’ll get through this together – one look at that face and how can there be any doubt?

What are you looking at?

I am gonna make it through this year…

So, how’s your year going? I know mine could be better. The shame is, for the crap storm that December turned out to be, 2009 actually ended on a pretty solid note. That has a lot to do with a 2 week holiday which gave me some much needed bonding time with a particular little human that wanders around my house screaming “Huggie Mommy!” on a daily basis. Being there all day long for once seemed to convince Kayleigh that I could be a suitable substitute for the bringer of all things milk. And then the virus hit…

To be honest, this particular illness wasn’t that bad. I had a few moments when the fever and body aches skyrocketed and completely knocked me out, but it didn’t even compare to the constant bathroom breaks that accompanied my gastroenteritis in Santa Fe. Still, the lingering feelings of crappiness that continue even a week later coupled with the total isolation of being stuck in the bedroom with little contact all those days were enough to drive me a little batty.

And thus I’ve been stuck with some general malaise that made me not even want to face the new year and instead dwell upon the sense of freedom lost to dwindling finances and a demanding toddler. Ugh, how lame is that? Just forgive me these trespasses as I try to get my proverbial rear in gear to prevent this trapped feeling from blossoming into a full blown case of early-to-mid-life crisis. Isn’t it amazing how difficult us middle-class, white suburbanites make life for ourselves?

Anyway, after I finish a small project for my Dad, hopefully I can stop talking about things and actually get back to working on my own hobbies rather than wallowing in the typical blogger meltdown…

Quarantine

No, I’m not talking about that crappy horror remake (and yes, the trailer and cover art basically “ruin” the last 15 minutes), I’m talking about my own quarantine. Some sort of flu-type thing has invaded my body and knocked me on my proverbial and real asses. Yesterday afternoon there was hope that it was one of those 24 hour things, but the evening revealed that to be unlikely. Now it’s day 2 of being trapped in the bedroom.

I don’t know about you, but sick days were a lot more fun when I was a kid. Maybe that’s because there was a lot more faking involved, but even the real sick days were typically spent curled up on couch watching too much TV while my Mom took care of me. To some extent this is still a similar experience, albeit with The Woman playing the role of my Mom, but as stupid things like adulthood and maturity get in the way a certain amount of guilt creeps in.

Only a couple years ago colds and flus didn’t really bother me. Lay down, rest, drink lots of water… whatever. Now there’s this whole little person running around that house that strikes fear into my heart at the thought of getting her sick, too. While previous illnesses often didn’t result in any form of quarantine, now we’re all sleeping separately to avoid becoming one of those households in which everyone just keeps exchanging different germs. On the one hand this means I can’t help out at a time when Kayleigh seems to be going through some major separation anxiety crap and on the other hand… I miss her.

It may seem silly, but walking down the stairs and seeing her so excited to see me yet not being able to pick her up nearly broke my heart. And I can only imagine the havoc that two straight weeks of nonstop Daddy-time followed by two days of zero interaction is playing with her. Back when I was a kid, stretching sick days out for as long as possible was awesome. Now I think another day of this will drive me (and the rest of the family) bonkers. Who knows, maybe this thing is finally clearing up in time to be labeled a “48-hour bug”. Or maybe that’s just the drugs kicking in…

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