Portrait of An Apartment Complex

It's odd what you notice when you pause for a moment of quiet reflection and different things come together to create a new perception of something. Sometimes your perception is so altered that you realize that you never really saw it in the first place. Many people would say that this kind of renewed vision comes only after you have a lot of time on your hands, and perhaps that's true some of the time. I would add that in those situations, some sort of artificial stimulant is probably involved as well. I remember during the summer I worked at the Utah Shakespearean Festival I was sitting with my room-mate on our small balcony, listening to the conversation of the guys in the apartment below us. The revelation of their conversation consisted mostly of the following:

Guy 1: This is good pizza.
Guy 2: (laughs) Yeah. I like the olives.
Guy 1: And the artichoke hearts.
(Pause)
Guy 1: Hey, have you ever really looked at an artichoke heart?
Guy 2: What do you mean?
Guy 1: Well, 'cause there's like, all these tiny little holes in 'em. See? Right there.
Guy 2: Ohhhhh, yeah! There's tons!

Mind you, this is only an approximation of the dialogue, but the gist is there. My room-mate and I were cracking up.

Back to the matter of new perceptions, however. I have recently begun to look at my apartment complex in a new light. There are a few things that I've noticed about it that seem fairly unique. First of all: my mailbox. We have the standard apartment mailbox which consists of a large metal box containing smaller metal cubes, one for each apartment. This mailbox is situated right next to the large dumpster, which is convenient for the disposal of ads that you never wanted in the first place, but less convenient when your neighbor has just thrown away what smells like a month's worth of burnt popcorn and rotten tomatoes. What makes my mailbox unique is not its proximity to the dumpster, however, but rather its close neighbor: The Hates-Life Lamp. The Hates-Life Lamp is a large street lamp that is supposed to illuminate the mailbox at night, as well as the surrounding parking lot. And most of the time, it fulfills its purpose. The reason that I have come to believe that it hates life is because whenever I come out to check my mail after dark, the lamp flickers out, leaving me to fumble with my mail key in the dark while checking nervously over my shoulder for Spends-A-Lot-Of-Quality-Time-With-His-Car Guy. Perhaps I'm being too hard on Hates-Life Lamp. After all, I have never seen anyone else check their mail at night, so maybe the lamp is not so much Hates-Life Lamp, but more Hates-Bri Lamp.

What was that? You're curious about Spends-A-Lot-Of-Quality-Time-With-His-Car Guy? Well, by all means, let me enlighten you. As you may have guessed from his name, this guy spends (in my opinion) an inordinate amount of time with his car. What's so strange about that? I know that some of you may be asking yourselves that. After all, lots of guys spend time on their cars. What makes Spends-A-Lot-Of-Quality-Time-With-His-Car Guy unique is not so much the amount of time he spends with his car, but what he actually does. You see, this guy is an older man who spends a lot of time parking his car (a new-ish Buick) and sitting in it. Almost every time I see this guy park, he backs into his parking space. Not so strange. But he does it about three times. Not because his first attempt wasn't good enough. For some inexplicable reason, he feels compelled to park and re-park until his Buick is exactly parallel with the guide lines, with the same amount of space on either side. He'll park once, open the door and evaluate, then park again, open the door again, etc. And when he's finally satisfied with the spacial relationship between his car and his parking space, he sits in his Buick for about ten minutes. God knows what he's doing in there.

I could go on about my neighbor next door who likes to play bass, most often when I'm more tired than usual and really need to get to sleep. Or perhaps I could mention my neighbor downstairs on the opposite side who's kind of cute but is also gay, unfortunately for me. His partner is also kind of cute, which is equally unfortunate for me. I could also talk about the lady I work with who lives on the other side of the apartment complex. She's a very nice lady and we get on well at work, but when she invited me over to watch a movie, I politely declined. Not because it would have been awkward, but because I know that she keeps tarantulas as pets.

So that's a portrait of my apartment complex. All right, maybe it's not a portrait. A nice school photo, then. Okay, okay. A candid.

Good Morning

6:17 AM

Still quiet. Not quite inclined to stir things up. Perhaps a little later. Definitely before the noisy thing goes off. If the human gets up before the noisy thing, usually it doesn't go off.

6:43 AM

Up on the bed. Waking the human: Stage One. Work from the feet first (though in emergencies, go directly to the head/face area, whatever you can reach). Slight foot movement under the sheets. Attack with extreme prejudice.

(THUMP)

6:44 AM

That was rude. The feet are not supposed to fight back. Back up on the bed. This time, focus on the stomach. Up on the dresser? Yes. Knock off a picture frame just because. Targeting stomach . . . locked. Bombs away!

(THUMP) (AAAAAH!) (THUMP)

6:45 AM

Victory. The human is up. No, no! Not to the bathroom first! Stupid human. Breakfast first! Not the crappy dry food. Breeeaaakfaaaasst! Breeeeaaakfaaaasst! (SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH) Breeeeaaaakfaaaasst! Finally. Come on, come on, to the kitchen! That's where the breakfast is! They forget so easily. Oooh! Breakfast! Put it down, put it down! Ahhh.

(NOM NOM NOM NOM)

6:52 AM

(SLURP)

Not bad. Had better breakfasts in the past. Back up onto the bed. Still slightly warm under the covers. Time for the early-morning nap. Much more restful up here when the human isn't taking up the whole thing.

7:31 AM

Wha--what? Noooooo! No! Stupid human! Don't make the bed while I'm in it! No no no! (THUMP) Unfair. The human sleeps under the sheets all night.

(SHUN)

7:45 AM

Wait! The human is leaving already! No scratches? None? Wait! I'll come outside, too. (SLAM) Rude. See what kind of mess she comes home to.

The Best!

I was reading the New York Times today (at work, of course) and I read a piece by Stanley Fish in which he listed the ten movies that are, in his opinion, the best American movies. No doubt your interest has been piqued - which movies made the cut? Have you seen any of them? Perhaps one of your favorite movies is on the list? To satisfy your curiosity, here are Stanley's Top Ten:

1. The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) starring Fredric March, Myrna Loy; dir. William Wyler
2. Sunset Blvd. (1950) starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson; dir. Billy Wilder
3. Double Indemnity (1944) starring Walter Neff, Barbara Stanwyck; dir. Billy Wilder
4. Shane (1953) starring Alan Ladd; dir. George Stevens
5. Red River (1948) starring John Wayne; dir. Howard Hawks
6. Raging Bull (1980) starring Robert DeNiro, Joe Pesci, Cathy Moriarty; dir. Martin Scorsese
7. Vertigo (1958) starring Jimmy Stewart; dir. Alfred Hitchcock
8. Groundhog Day (1993) starring Bill Murray, Andie MacDowell; dir. Harold Ramis
9. Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) starring Judie Garland, Margaret O'Brien; dir. Vincente Minnelli
10. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945) starring Peggy Ann Garner, James Dunn; dir. Elia Kazan

His honorable mentions include Quiz Show, The Wild Bunch, Nashville, My Darling Clementine, How Green Was My Valley, The Night of the Hunter, Lonely Are the Brave, Detective Story, All About Eve, and Ace in the Hole.

As a disclaimer (mine, not Mr. Fish's), please note that Stanley is an older gentlemen. This helped me to understand why eight out of ten of his picks were released prior to 1960, and the newest film in his list is Groundhog Day. There are 733 comments on Stanley's piece, most of them disagreeing with him and/or suggesting alternative films that exemplify American film-making. To me, this list read more like "My Favorite Films Growing Up, by Stanley Fish" than a truly accurate representation of the best domestic films. Because I know that you're all waiting for it, I now offer you my own "Top Ten Best American Films." (Disclaimer: my rating system is not written in stone. I hate having to choose my favorite movies. To me, it's how I would imagine parents would feel if they had to choose a favorite child - though perhaps that's a bad example. Lots of parents have favorites, even though they shouldn't! Anyway.) (Also, my list is limited to movies that I have seen.)

1. Casablanca (1942) starring Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman; dir. Michael Curtiz
2. Psycho (1960) starring Janet Leigh, Anthony Perkins; dir. Alfred Hitchcock
3. The Defiant Ones (1958) starring Sidney Poitier, Tony Curtis; dir. Stanley Cramer
4. On the Waterfront (1954) starring Marlon Brando; dir. Elia Kazan
5. The Godfather (1972) starring Marlon Brando, Al Pacino; dir. Francis Ford Coppola
6. Star Wars (1977) starring Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher; dir. George Lucas
7. Pulp Fiction (1994) starring John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson; dir. Quentin Tarantino
8. The Usual Suspects (1994) starring Kevin Spacey, Dean Keaton; dir. Bryan Singer
9. Schindler's List (1993) starring Liam Neeson, Ralph Fiennes; dir. Steven Spielberg
10. Philadelphia (1993) starring Tom Hanks, Denzel Washington; dir. Jonathan Demme

So that's it. Those are the ten movies that I believe are the best examples of American film-making. I know that there are those that may disagree with me, but since very few of them will read my blog, I feel secure in my choices. In fact, I'd like to take this opportunity to throw out a few honorable mentions: Fight Club, The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Magnificent Seven, Some Like It Hot, The Great Escape, The Philadelphia Story, and Dr. Strangelove.

Now, some of you (you know who you are) may be thinking to yourselves "Hey! She's completely ignoring many time-honored classics - films that have made lists ever since they were made!" It's true. I am ignoring many of the films that you might learn about in a film class. But let's be serious: how many of you would have watched Citizen Kane if it hadn't been required viewing for said film class? I've seen it (for a film class), and I found it to be incredibly boring. And if you're still not satisfied with either my top ten or my honorable mentions, I invite you to make your own lists. Send me the link to your blog so that I can criticize your choices.