Onward Hoe!

Well as you know, I had free tickets to see Evan Almighty last night, so HP, Sister D and SoHo went with me. We were all rather skeptical going into it, especially when the kindly old Baptist deacon man greeted us and asked, "Do you have a camera on your cell phone there, Sister Beth?" But despite the skepticism, we pressed on. Our bags were checked thoroughly for cameras of all sorts, though thank goodness they didn't care about the Baked Lays, chocolate chip cookie and Diet Coke I was smuggling in.

We took our seats in the third row. It was the only row that had four seats all together apart from the first and second rows. Apparently a lot of people RSVP'd for this event as they told us to get there early to claim our seats because they might have to turn people away. I don't know about all that, but we did have to sit rather close to the screen in a film that included a lot of straight-on close-ups.

I was worried going into this movie, just as I was going into Bruce Almighty, that they were going to just horribly misrepresent God, and I was pleasantly surprised that they got at least one aspect of him right on the money. The overriding message of the movie was that God loves us, and everything he does, he does because he loves us. Even the things that make us feel like God's out to get us are actually happening because of his love for us. And when everything's just going crazy in his life, Evan expresses perfectly what most of us have felt at some point when he says, "I know you do everything because you love me. Could you love me a little less?" But in the end, he sees the point of everything he went through, and it all makes sense, and it turns out that everything God did actually was for Evan's good and the good of his family (and the world, if you really think about it).

I also liked how they explored a pretty typical American opinion; that is, everyone should pray, but if you claim God talks back to you, you're a nut job. We all, on occasion, ask for God's help, provision, intervention, etc., but we don't like how he goes about helping, providing or intervening for us, so we continue trying to do it ourselves and complaining about "Where was God when I needed him?" Oh, and there's one part where Evan starts talking about the ark not fitting into his plans, and God, upon hearing of all Evan's plans, just starts cracking up. I have to say...I love Morgan Freeman as God. I just do.

I just have a few criticisms.

The whole long hair/white beard gag was a little too Santa Clause for me, but I think they did it because God was trying to get Evan to stop caring so much about his appearance. And it turned out to be unnecessary for all the animals to come to him two-by-two, but God was trying to get him to stop thinking of animals as being dirty, AND it made for some really funny scenes.

They made it seem like all God wants is for us to be nice to each other. There was a big, cheesy push for Acts of Random Kindness (get it? ARK), and that's a great way to live. I just think there's more to it than that.

And none of us were really buying Lorelai Gilmore as a politician's wife. She was just a little too hip in style to be in politics, but a litle too Stepford as a wife to be that hip. She came around some in the end and made a little more sense as a character, but she never quite made it to realistic.

Over all, though, it was enjoyable movie experience for me. It was thought- and conversation-provoking, and Steve Carell is just fabulous with physical comedy. The scene when all the animals start following him and the sheep are in the back of the Hummer...hilarious. Check it out at some point, even if you wait for it to go to the $1.50 theater or to DVD. In my humble opinion, it's worth the hour and a half of your life.

So my beautiful sister is in Kuwait with the Air Force, and the lucky hoe got there just in time to meet the one...the only... CHUCK NORRIS!! I asked her to find out if the rumors about him and the devil are true...you know, that he sold his soul to satan for his rugged good looks and unparallelled martial arts abilities, and that after the transaction was complete, Chuck round-house kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back...and then that the devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad, and that the two of them now play poker together once a month. No word yet on whether or not the rumors have been confirmed, but this has to be the most amazing photo to ever grace this blog. Enjoy it, friends. I know I am.

I pulled enough hair out of the drain in my bathroom sink last night to make a toupee for Suri Cruise. But it appears that she's already got one.

Dear Donald Miller,

I realize that you are Donald Miller and will, therefore, most likely shoot down my request quicker than I can say “Emilio Estevez,” but just hear me out. For the past year and a half or so, some of the gals down at the church house have been putting out a quarterly online magazine, which is available for your perusal/inevitable approval at www.dirtydishonline.com. We’ve been having some crazy ideas lately about publishing a print version of the Dirty Dish in addition to stepping up our online publication to a monthly gig. In order to do this, we need more readers and more writers. So we’re dreaming up a writers’ conference to be held here in Raleigh, hosted by the Dirty Dish, for all the locals with any interest in such things. We haven’t worked out all the details just yet (personally, I’m not much of a planner), but we’re pretty sure a conference needs a speaker and maybe some workshops. That’s where you come in.

Clearly you are a busy man, but I can see on your website that you’re going to be on the east coast for much of February anyway, so I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind just swinging through Raleigh for a couple of days to speak at our little shindig. We don’t have any money to give you, but here’s what we can offer:
- flight
- lodging
- personal chauffeuring in a plush 2005 Toyota Corolla CE with an excellent and rather wide selection of music
- hot Krispy Kreme doughnuts
- Lilly’s pizza. This means nothing to you now, but rest assured, it’s worth the trip.
- a free lifetime subscription to the Dirty Dish
- a date (or two, depending on how long you stay)
- therapeutic massage (by a legitimate massage therapist, not me)
- naked pictures of Bea Arthur (not really, but if you get that movie reference, then I want you to come that much more)
- community away from home (by which I mean up to 500 adoring female fans)
- a carousel ride in the mall
- a haiku in your honor
- an oh-so-urbanized homemade t-shirt
- an evening of karaoke
- a stylish new ‘do compliments of Raleigh’s swankiest, most cutting-edge stylist
- a personal invitation to a fantastic film and food fiesta
- home-cooked meals
- one tres leches cake
- our eternal gratitude
- treasure in heaven
- a Snickers
- a private concert by up-and-coming band, Balaam’s Chatty Ass

What do you say, Donald Miller? Will you do it?

Sincerely,
Beth Parent

P.S. I’ve paused several times in the writing of this email to say “Emilio Estevez.” I shall also commence to chanting it as soon as this is sent, so that the record might show that even if you shoot me down, I’m still faster.

Well friends, North Carolina--yes North Carolina, where I haven't seen more than 3 feet of snow in my entire life--has a hockey team that just won the Stanley Cup. Now I don't consider myself to be a fair weather fan when it comes to any sport. Mostly I just don't care. And while it's always nice to live in the town where the winning team is from, I still don't feel like I have any part in it. I mean you should see Raleigh now. There are road-side stands selling Hurricanes paraphernalia, every other car has at least one flag flying proudly from the window(s), people are dressed in red, white and black all over the place, and since the winning of the cup, it's all anybody can talk about. It's on TV, on the radio, there was even a parade downtown yesterday.

I want to feel proud. I really do. But I have no vested interest in the team. Those of you who have been reading my blog from the beginning may remember a little hockey team called Picasso's Men With Horns (aka the Algier Bulls). My friend Mike was the goalie of this community league team, but that was enough to spark my interest. I came to genuinely enjoy hockey, and Megan and I went faithfully to nearly every game, cheering loudly, banging on the glass, and often hanging out with the team for a post-game pint at Gstaad.

This is what I need if I'm to really get into the Hurricanes hype. I need to know somebody on the team. Or better yet, I could date somebody on the team. I mean Mike and I were just friends, and look how excited I got about the Bulls every week. Imagine...just imagine...if one of these hot bearded fellows were my boyfriend. You can be sure that all manner of skirts and halter tops and bags and scarves would be constructed out of 'Canes t-shirts. Oh the possibilities!

So I propose a project that I'd like to call "The Hurricane Hook-up." If you have any connections with them whatsoever, and if there are any who are single, hook me up. Make me a fan. I dare you.