The Swimming Post

This summer I have been doing a lot of swimming. My life almost feels like this Loudon Wainright III song (which I love by the way).

I was swimming in the ocean on the other side of it for the first time. I have swam a lot in the pool on the roof of my parent's building. I went swimming in a river at Brewdog's cabin. Today, however was different than all of those. For the first time in my life today I swam only for exercise.

I went to target before my swim to buy goggles. Much to my dismay the selection of adult goggles was limited to 1 pair of ugly bright pink contraptions made of rubber and plastic. I bought them anyway because honestly if I gave a crap about what people thought of me I wouldn't be swimming at the YMCA in the first place.

So I went and I did 10 laps (or 20 laps depending on if you consider a lap from one side of the pool to the other or require a return trip for an official lap.) I thought it was a lot of fun doing cardio this way. You feel so much more peaceful than when biking or running on a treadmill. it is so nice I don't even really mind that I can't listen to music while working out. That being said, I am going to keep at it because right now I am an embarrassment. I will just tell you I hope I never get stranded in the middle of the ocean because I would be fucked.

Superman Returns

Tonight on my fathers recommendation I decided to re-watch the movie Superman Returns. This was a big mistake.

When I originally saw this movie I remember the excitement that coursed through the very fiber of my being. Because I had not seen the movie yet I did not know all the plot holes and horrible writing that awaited me. At that point all I had seen was the amazing trailer and the production stills which both showcased the only good part of the movie, the unbelievable visual sense that Bryan Singer uses.

* seriously, how fucking beautiful is this?

Unfortunately the visual aspects are where the good stuff ends and the horrible begin. Re-watching this movie is an exercise in frustration for me because all I can think about is how awesome this series could have been.

For those of you who do not know, Superman Returns chronological place is after Superman 1 and 2 and before Superman 3 and 4. Certainly I can't blame Bryan Singer for his attempts to scrub 3 and 4 from history. 3 was essentially Richard Pryor's opus on how to kill a superhero franchise while 4 is best remembered as the movie where Superman is pressured by a 12 year old to throw all nuclear weapons into the sun. The problems with these movies are many and too extensive to get into here, this is just about the latest installment.

The problems with Superman Returns, interestingly enough, arise primarily from Bryan Singer's deep rooted respect for the Superman franchise. Singer has such a hard on for Richard Donner's movies that he refuses to deviate from their themes, even in places where the themes are horrible. The best example of this is that the whole plot of the movie revolves around Lex Luthor's crazy real estate ploy, just like in the first two movies. Another big problem with the movie is the screen play. There are so many holes in logic and overly simplistic lines that come up in this movie I am embarrassed to call myself a comic book fan. I won't do justice to exactly how bad they are by writing it here so I won't even try.

In short, this movie had so much potential it makes me cry to see it so wasted. If Bryan Singer had given Superman the style of reboot that we saw with Batman Begins I would guess we would be on our second Superman movie if not third. Now I fear the franchise will be dead forever.

The Death of an Icon.

For those of you not in the know, I used to run my own business in high school. I sold bagels to my classmates for about a year and a half and made some pretty serious bank doing it. What is funny is that more revenue was generated from the T-Shirts associated with my business than from selling bagels themselves.

T-shirts started being tied to my business when, one spring break I loaned my brother my car so that he could make a cross country trip. As a thank you he and his girlfriend (now his wife) made me a T-shirt that I could wear while I sold my bagels. The shirt, made with iron on letters on a beautiful royal blue shirt has held up amazingly over the last 7 years. Even in heavy rotation it never showed any real signs of wear and tear. Then I took my trip abroad.

I chose that shirt as one of the 6 I was able to bring with me for my 2 months of trekking around the world. As a result the letters have worn off and my shirt now looks like a dilapidated movie theater marquee. I think that it is finally time to retire the shirt. RIP Originator. You will be missed.

The Flight Back

So I am sitting here in Chicago O'Hare airport and have dropped the $7.99 that was required of me to feed my Internet addiction for the next hour until my flight back to Minneapolis. For those of you wondering, my flight back was much more pleasant than my flight to Egypt (discussed a few posts ago.) I sat next to a lovely German woman who is currently a citizen of Italy. The only problem came from the in flight entertainment.

I haven't taken all that many long flights in my life, as a result I have fairly limited experience with American Airlines most bitter sweet feature: the In-Flight Movie. It is bitter sweet because while it is very nice to have something to watch to keep your mind off the fact you are rocketing through the air in a metal tube at 800Mph the movies are inevitably gonna be crappy.

This flight in particular became an acting clinic by Brendan Frasier (read: a shitty acting clinic.) First came Inkheart, the story of a father who is able to bring literary characters to life when he reads books out loud. His daughter has inherited this rare ability and things go awry when the team is attacked by the cast of a medieval adventure book called Inkheart. This movie is every bit as trite and horrid as it sounds. Please never watch it.

The next movie on tap was Journey to the Center of the Earth. Also starring Brendan Frasier. Also involving an in depth knowledge of literature from the Encino man. Also a piece of shit wrapped in tin foil molded into the shape of a swan and then reheated 3 weeks later. What do I have to do to get a half way decent movie in flight?