Go.

Hurry up and get out to see it. Take some friends. Don't bother with the 3D. The story is absolutely wonderful.

I won't spoil the details in case you haven't already read too much about it, but I did in fact cry in the first 10 minutes. Yes. I admit it. I did. And the emotion keeps up for the rest of the film.

When a film can do that--animated or not--you know it's doing something right.

Hating Life, part 6

So, that mewithoutYou album I was excited about is pretty good. It's a lot different musically than previous albums. I have my gripes, and it's not as flawless as previous albums in my mind, but the same lyrical richness is there perhaps more than ever, and ironically, dying to self--or hating life as I've been speaking of it--seems to be a major theme. I am encouraged, moved, stunned by some of the poetry used in these songs. Here's an excerpt from a song called "Goodbye, I!" which can currently be heard on their myspace.

there's a movement in our stillness and however much we move
we're bound to stand completely still
so let's stand completely still!
come, Tortoise, standing still -
go, Hummingbird, my will
come, Tortoise, stumbling blind -
go, Hummingbird, my eyes
come, Tortoise, letting go -
go, Hummingbird, 'I know'
come Tortoise, undefined -
go, Hummingbird, my mind
come, Tortoise, empty hands -
go, Hummingbird, my plans
come, Tortoise, come and die -
go, Hummingbird, my I
goodbye, I!


and here's a mediocre video of the song from the show in Philly this past week that I was so so so foolish to miss:

Stamp of Approval

(In order to avoid making May the least-blogged month since 2005 when I didn't have the internet in my home, I'm offering two posts back to back.)

Faithful readers know I only like movies that nobody has heard of, the ones the average Joe thinks are too slow, too boring, plotless, or just downright weird. The more subtitles, the better. The quirkier, the better. Never showing up at the local cineplex, just right. Documentaries, the best.

So you might be surprised to hear my official endorsement of Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian, but here it is.

Now, I probably wouldn't have willingly gone out to see this film on my own accord. The three fifth grade teachers put a dinner and a movie date up for auction at the recent school fundraiser. So yesterday afternoon, we took four boys out for pizza and then to see the flick at the local theater that offers four dollar matinees.

I was the one to suggest Night at the Museum, seeing it as one of the best student-teacher compromises possible. Up, of course, would have been as well, but that wasn't the movie playing at the local four-dollar theater, not to mention I would prefer to see it on my own or with my wife. (Can't wait to see it tomorrow!) Originally, the students requested Dragonball Evolution. I had no idea what it was, but I could tell by the title it would have been a miserable experience, and boy was I glad when I found it had already left the theaters.

It must be said that I fell asleep during the first Night at the Museum, but I remember not being terribly excited about it when I was awake. I remember Ben Stiller fighting with a monkey, and I remember not laughing like I was supposed to. All that to say, if you're playing the sequel-comparison game, I'm bowing out.

And I'm quite surprised to go on Rotten Tomatoes and see a disappointing 44% for what I thought was a lot of fun. Maybe that speaks to the importance of so many factors and variables surrounding a good movie experience. I had no expectations whatsoever, no knowledge of the content, I was in a good mood on a Friday afternoon, I was watching it with kids, and I only paid $4 to see it. All of the above helps. Oh, and I stayed wide awake, which always really helps.

Without further ado, here are 8 reasons I loved Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian:

8. So many historical characters coming to life in one place.

7. The interesting sub-theme--a satire, almost?--on how we love to create one-dimensional caricatures of those historical figures for our own use and sense of understanding. Custer was so much fun.

6. Even the pieces of art were coming to life! And they led to an absolutely enchanting, wonderfully imaginative sequence.

5. Cameos from The Office and Judd Apatow flicks, some of the best people in comedy today. Jonah Hill's no-touching-my-name-isn't-Brandon scene had me laughing SO hard. These people understand good, smart comedy. It's all about delivery, rather than profanity or vulgarity or being just plain weird. (OK, sometimes it's about those things too, especially when Judd Apatow is involved, but it wasn't here.) Christopher Guest was a little more than a cameo and a little less than hilarious, but I loved that he was in it and I loved that it took me forever to finally realize it was him.

4. Likewise, Ricky Gervais can just open his mouth and I giggle. Doesn't matter what he says. Mouth opens, I giggle. It's him and Steve Carrell and Jack Black who have that strange magical power over me.

3. I don't want to be one of these stuffy old-fashioned types, but really, it's just refreshing to laugh at something that's only rated PG.

2. The Roman solider drama scenes, also a creative and insightful piece of humor.

1. Amy Adams has started to lose her 'moxie' in my mind, to use her character's words. But here, as Amelia Earhart, she was totally wonderful, definitely made the film, and made me a believer in her acting again.

World Premiere

The physics movie I've told you about was finally finished at the end of last week. And after spending wayyy too much time and energy on this little project, I decided I wanted to make it special. Kids' enthusiasm has a tendency to wax and wane pretty easily, and with this overdue project, it had definitely waned. I wasn't ready to let it to fizzle out after all that work.

So, I planned the Red Carpet World Premiere of Three Laws of Motion for Thursday afternoon.

I got some long red paper from a roll in the faculty room for our red carpet. When the kids found out what was happening, one boy came to me excitedly and said, "Mr. Shorb. I'm your stage crew. Whatever you need, I'll do it. Just let me know." So, right away I started coming up with jobs for him. Close the windows. Turn up the AC. Pull the blinds down. Move the desks back. Tape the carpet down. Hit the lights. Test the volume. By the end of all this, he had about 10 excited people on his crew. Each would ask for a job then say something to the effect of, "Got it!" or "I'm on it!" and rush to complete the task. It was beautiful.

Another excited boy asked if he could announce everyone that came in on the red carpet, and if we could take pictures, and video tape, and do interviews. I loved the idea, but when it was only 15 minutes before dismissal, without planning, I had to turn him down. With a little more notice I could have had him critique what everyone chose to wear, who's hot, who's not, which wouldn't have been too exciting when they're all in school uniforms but slightly funny nonetheless.

The energy in the room was slowly rising. It was great.

During filming, one boy went to great lengths and collaborated with the technology teacher for special effects to get footage of him "sky diving." It was demonstrating some principles of air resistance. The resulting video was quite fun and his effort and independence were very admirable, but it didn't fit in our movie on the Three Laws. So, I asked him if we could show it as a pre-show feature to warm up the audience, much like Pixar does with their movies. He said, "So I'll be sort of like an appetizer?" Exactly. He was all for it, narrated his film like a pro, and received robust applause afterward.

The main feature was a hit. There was laughter, pointing, giggles, gasps, smiling, and everyone ended up singing along with the music by the end of it. It, too, received robust applause and they agreed it was worth the wait.

So what now? I'm hoping to get it on YouTube, at the very least for you to see, but that's going to require the hefty project of getting parent permission. There's a film festival in our city and I'm thinking of submitting, but I might be a little late for that, too. At any rate, each student will get their copy, and I'm mailing some to old Physics teachers of mine. That just might have to suffice.

It was a lot of fun and a proud accomplishment. But after the time it took, I have a feeling I won't be doing it again any time soon. Then again, we all know I'm quite a sucker for goofy film projects accompanied by original ukulele compositions, so time will tell.

Polls are Open!

Vote for me for WLEV Teacher of the Quarter, then pass it on!
Cast your votes HERE.

Update on Life

Life's been busy, that's for sure.

The record store didn't have the mewithoutYou disc yesterday. I'll have to check again tomorrow.

A man in the car next to me at the stoplight tonight was brushing his teeth. A man in a different car next to me had a really bad hair cut, as in weird random patches shaved bare on the side.

The casinos in Bethlehem open tomorrow night. It's transforming the city. There are all sorts of ways to discuss the opening of a casino in one's place of residence. Morality and weird justification of greed (ie: gamble for charity nights) aside, I'm a bit opposed to the venture for two reasons.
1. I was perfectly content gazing at abandoned steel factories. And now that Sands is basing the entire existence of its business on the success of this very casino, I think we ALL would much rather gaze at abandoned steel factories than an abandoned glitz-house a few years down the road.
2. It simply doesn't fit the town. Bethlehem has had a really great independent spirit that has been gaining momentum in the past few years, whether it be in art galleries or restaurants or small businesses. To overshadow that with this is simply a shame. But glitz and sleaze simply isn't compatible with the city's personality.
3. Ok there's a third reason. It's going to lengthen our commutes to Coopersburg and Hellertown by 10 minutes each.
But it's here, so oh well. Time will tell what it brings.

So, I might as well announce it. Last week, I was named Teacher of the Week by the morning show on a local radio station. Yes, me! My kids nominated me. They were super excited. So I was visited by the DJ yesterday (even though my week ended yesterday) and got a little trophy and some prizes and whatnot. It's ironic and humbling timing, because I'm pretty sure this has been my crankiest week all year. But voting for teacher of the quarter starts Friday--don't worry, I'll remind you then--and if I win that, I get $1,000 that I believe has to be spent on my school. From there, I would get put in the running for Teacher of the Year and who knows what that holds in store.

I'm remembering just how miserable the last few weeks of school can unfortunately be. Our school tends to cram in as many projects and tests and events as possible, so everyone's feeling pressure, and everyone's on each other's nerves. It's never a nice way to finish out, and there's all sorts of tension in wanting to create a pleasant sense of closure before saying goodbye. You take one day at a time and do what you can, realizing not all of it will manage to be squeezed in before the last day.

I just hope I can finally finish my Physics movie before the last day. Good grief!

Reminder

This drops tomorrow. If you want to attend a listening party, let me know.

The song on this ad doesn't have me too enthused, by I'm still gonna run out and buy it like the crazy teenage fanboy that I am.

Hating Life, part 5

I thought I was done with this series, but something else came to mind as we studied John 13 together last week.

The disciples spent a lot of time with Jesus, and yet, in the final moments together during the Last Supper, a dispute breaks out about who was the greatest. It sounds familiar to me, like a bunch of obnoxious 5th graders. Had they not learned anything? After they had been taught so often and so intimately about the radical upside-down nature of Christ's kingdom, they're still focused on the physical, on being the best, on loving their lives?

(But wait! Be careful when criticizing those poor disciples! We may be much more dignified and subtle and savvy in our debates, but aren't we also too often quietly checking on how we measure up?)

In thinking on this debate amidst their final meeting, I realized much of my thoughts on 'hating life' made it sound like an event, a once and done decision. Decide to hate your life and live that way from there on out.

The disciples and their blunders remind me that, no, you must make the conscious decision and intentional effort to hate your life each and every day.

Christ knew our propensity for hasty commitments that would grow stale quickly, fizzle out, and never be kept. So he adds one important word to his command to pick up one's cross:

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me."

It's tough to make a commitment and stick to it for a lifetime. Making a commitment each morning and keeping it for that day is a goal much better suited for our feeble human nature.

And what a glorious wonder that Jesus knew that about us, and he knew it because he somehow experienced it for himself!

Tucking In

I returned home last night after a three day two night field trip to Mystic, Connecticut with my fifth graders. While there, we sleep in the bottom of this ship--the Joseph Conrad--in tight quarters, triple bunks with thin mattresses hung by chains. This year, I was left to supervise the thirty boys on my own in the evenings, and because we had exactly thirty bunks with thirty boys, my bed became two of those mattresses laid on the floor (which was actually a lot better for my back) in the middle of the room, which felt a little bit like a wounded gazelle laying in the middle of a bunch of lions ready to pounce.

Yes, such an assignment would fill most normal people with a sense of dread, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't experience the same sentiments most of the time. But in the quiet of Thursday night as I fell asleep, the responsibility felt more like a privilege, bringing an exhausted smile to my face.

Have you ever tried to tuck in 30 eleven-year-old boys all at the same time? It's not easy.

Each step gets progressively more difficult. Getting into pajamas? No problem. Getting them through the bathroom for bed-wetting prevention and cavity protection? A little harder. Getting them into their bunks? Trickier, as there are always a few that need to keep hopping out of bed for something different. It's almost like the proverbial Lucy with the conveyor belt of chocolates, as soon as you take care of one, you're turning your back on another that slips by. Getting them to quiet down? The most important step, perhaps the hardest. Getting them to fall asleep? Nearly impossible.

So, in the past two years, I've turned to bedtime stories. Without fail, they ask for a bedtime story in a way that makes it sound like they're joking in order to preserve their machoness, but it's apparent that they really want (and need) a few.

It was a spur of the moment idea last year, when all I had was my Bible I turned to the story of Jonah, a fittingly maritime tale. And so, I returned to same this year. They were still restless. I found a Native American myth in the teacher's section of the boat, and read that. Still restless. I couldn't keep them waiting or all that hard work would go to ruin, so I hurriedly turned back to the only storybook I had to the first story that came to mind: Joseph. I started with the coat, skipped Potiphar's wife, and continued on until I thought it appropriate to stop, but it was at least a half hour of reading in all, and there were only a few interruptions.

In the middle of my reading about Joseph, I heard a small whisper to my right, top bunk. I looked up, and saw four little eyes peering over a small red light. My little monkey of a boy had hopped over to his best friend's top bunk next to him, and he was using the old school video camera he brought along to video tape my stories. Apparently, the silent look I gave him told him to shut it off immediately and get back to his bunk, which he did, but looking back, I really wish he would have spent the rest of the story videotaping with his friend. I don't want to call it precious, but that's exactly what it was.

But I wish you could have shared the experience of the sound in that room. That was the privilege. It lasted about an hour in all, the subtle, slow decrescendo of adamantly restless boys trying so hard to resist the rest their bodies desperately need as all kids do. The talking eventually fades, the rolling back and forth on noisy mattresses gradually slows, a few more low whispers until each and every one finally gives up the fight in one large and quiet exhale, letting the barely audible steady pulse of sixty restful little lungs at last take over, keeping time, filling the room with the most glorious silence you've ever experienced.