I'm going to see how long it takes me to watch three hundred sixty-five films. Some of yall know my intense love of film and suspect, I'm sure, this won't be much of a challenge. One movie a day. Shouldn't be too tricky. Yall. I've not watched barely any movies AT ALL. This year, I've seen one in theaters: Top Gun: Maverick (twice, because it's badass). The films for this challenge can be those I've seen, and genre does not matter. The kick is each film has to be connected to the previous one by at least one actor.

Example: Top Gun stars Val Kilmer who's in Tombstone with Michael Rooker. 

Begun: May twenty-sixth.

One. Top Gun. I love Maverick and Goose. The story sucks, but I want to like it so I remember it being better than it is. Kelly McGillis and Tom Cruise have NO chemistry whatsoever. I mean, she plays a different field so why should they?

Two. Tombstone. BEST. WESTERN. E V E R. Val Kilmer at his finest. Good cast. Great story.

Three. Days of Thunder. Meh. Typical Jerry Bruckheimer and Tony Scott fanfare.

Four. For Love of the Game. BEST. BASEBALL. FLICK. E V E R. Great story. LOVE Kelly Preston's character and her portrayal. Would that they would've gotten someone other than Kevin Costner, but... oh well.

Five. Into the Wild. Never seen it. Good story. SAD. Did not end at all the way I would've liked.

Six. The Adam Project. Love Ryan Reynolds, Jennifer Garner and Zoe Saldana. Cool story, bro. I enjoyed it. I don't know what it is, but something about Ryan in this one reminds me of my affable older brother... and that awkward little boy reminds me of myself. And watching those two interact kind of reminded me of how Jon and I would, and it makes me miss him and wish I'd been better to him.

Seven. Definitely, Maybe. LOVE LOVE LOVE Isla Fisher. I've seen this before but not in its entirety. Cute movie. Clever. Maybe not so different than the one before it after all. Also I now understand why people prefer American Spirits.

Eight. Tag. I love stories inspired by real life stuff. A group of boys have been playing the same game of Tag for thirty years. In the film, one of them's NEVER been tagged. Isla Fisher makes this movie for me. This is my favorite film of hers.

Nine. Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation. This the only film in this franchise I've seen beginning to end. I suspect they're all like this one. I dig the cast, though.

Ten. Top Gun: Maverick. SO, SO, SO much BETTER than the first one. Penny Benjamin!!! Goose, Jr.! And the STORY... it actually HAS a story, not just a bunch of dudes flying around with their hair on fire. Good times, yall. GOOD times.

Eleven. Apollo Thirteen. I love EVERYTHING about this film.

Twelve. The Terminator. First time I saw it, at nine, I was petrified. Now… meh.

Thirteen. Vertical Limit. Never seen it. Never have I been so happy to see a bad guy die.

Fourteen. The Right Stuff. Never seen it in its entirety. LOVE this movie. Love this cast.

Fifteen. American Underdog. Never seen it. SUCH a KICKASS story. Beyond WORTHY of the screen. I was bored OUT OF MY MIND the first third of it... and found mild interest in the film here and there after that. Bad screenwriting, bad casting. SUPER disappointed in this one. I did LOVE the Wheaties scene though. Best thing about the movie was watching him wrestle with dreams while trudging through mediocrity.

Sixteen. Collateral. Never seen it. Liked a LOT of it but not one I'd want to watch again.

Seventeen. Thanks for Sharing. Never seen it. Man this one's rough. Never, ever want to watch it again.

Eighteen. The Lucky Ones. Never seen it. NOT to be confused with the Lucky One. I feel like this one flew well below radar with regard to publicity, and maybe it's not a stellar movie, but I liked it... And then when I was copying text from Facebook (where I started keeping track) to here, I had to remind myself what movie this was, so... apparently it's forgettable.

Nineteen. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. Not my favorite Marvel dude. Only watched the others because of the other Marvel dudes in them. Only watched this one because I needed something Rachel McAdams and wanted to do something I'd not seen and to see the other Marvel dudes so of course I had low expectations. Of the Strange flicks, I like this one the best. Its visual stun and several scenes shock and awe. And, most impressive to me, Vision's role--her longing, heartbreak, impotence and rage. A perfect storm.

Twenty. War Horse. Never seen it. Took me three days to finish it. Neat story but POORLY executed and MUCH TOO long.

Twenty-one. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1. I'm still pissed they broke this book into two movies. Half the scenes in this one could've been cut. I didn't need to see Hermione obliviate her parents or dance with Harry in a tent or listen to Billy Nighy tell the muggle ministry that the magical ministry would stand to protect them... Harry found what... one horcrux in this movie? Hogwash. I'd thought when I'd seen it the first time I was being too critical. Nonsense.

Twenty-two. Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. Haven't seen it in its entirety. I do love me some Captain Jack... and maybe some Will Turner, too. And the visuals are awesome. I liked that this one was more complex than the original. An abundance of characters contributes to that, but all those people can overwhelm. I liked it. Probably won't watch it again though because Keira Knightley sucks. 

Twenty-three. Finding Nemo. I like everything about this movie except Dory.

Twenty-four. Incredibles 2. JACK JACK!!!

Twenty-five. Wall-E. Never seen it. Never want to see it again.

Twenty-six. Monsters Inc. Never seen it. Cute movie. But I've gotten myself into cartoon hell...

Twenty-seven. Inside Llewellyn Davis. Never seen it. DO NOT WATCH THIS. MORBID and DEPRESSING. And Oscar Issac’s character is a piece of shit. You never get inside his head. No redemption. Utter waste of time. Worst one on the list so far, by far.

Twenty-eight. Dune. Never seen it. STUPID. STUPID. S T U P I D.

Twenty-nine. Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps. Never seen it. LOVED its complexity and intricacy. GOOD movie.

And now I am in one degree hell because the next movie I've watched is Zombieland, which means I've to figure out a way to get from Michael Douglas, Carey Mulligan, Charlie Sheen, Josh Brolin, Frank Langella and Shia LeBouf to Woody Harrelson, Emma Stone, Abigail Breslin, that wuss Jesse Eisenberg and Bill Murray. So far, the only way I can do it in one is No Country for Old Men. I am NOT watching that shit. I've seen clips. I get the gist.

So... in less than five minutes after I originally posted this, I found a movie starring both Charlie Sheen and Bill Murray. HUZZAH!!!

Thirty. A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III. Never seen it. Never heard of it. Similar to Inside Llewelyn Davis in that the main character is a selfish bastard and there's no redemption, in the notion that the character becomes better, in the end. Better because people love Charles, despite that selfishness. Because here's the thing, the dude does care. Not well, and not consistently, but he loves. He is messed up, but he owns it. Super obvious, though, that Charles and Charlie are the same person. Interesting, self-deprecating characters paired with some mid-century funk makes for a good mix. 

Thirty-one. Zombieland. Heard of it. Never seen it, nor have I wanted to do so. Working at a liquor store with a coworker during slow times means we watch a LOT of movies. He'd chosen eight of these, including this one, and next on the list makes nine. He loves this movie because it turns up to eleven every plot device used in every zombie ever made. It's sheer ridiculousness. I did not enjoy it. And I've already said what I think of Jesse Eisenberg. Ultimately, he's the reason I've not watched this before. 

Thirty-two. Dedication. I freaking LOVE this movie. HARD. I remember working the music shift at Barnes and Noble one dull night and keeping myself occupied by watching trailers on the Red Dot kiosks. After viewing this one's, I bought the DVD, confident I would love it, and I DID. It's ballsy, yall. It starts in a porn theater--children's book collaborators stumped for a book idea. It's got a solid cast, and Billy Crudup excels in his role. I think it's his best work. I never tire of watching this one. Justin Theroux did good with this one.

Thirty-three. Hot Fuzz. Never seen it. Another coworker selection--a favorite of his. I dig it. It's fun. And Simon Pegg is a rock star.

Extraordinary Activity

 I've been wanting to write this for months but wasn't ready to do so. I attend a church whose benediction, spoken at the conclusion of each service, goes like this:

Because we have received the DNA of Jesus and because we want to see His kingdom come, we will be His hands and feet in a broken world. We will be love where there is no love, we will be peace where there is no peace, we will be hope where there is no hope, and we will expect extraordinary God activity at all times, knowing wherever we go, the kingdom goes with us for His fame and glory. Amen.

I have never witnessed such extraordinary activity in my life as I have this year.

For three weeks in January, we fast with intention to develop new habits, whether they're emotional, mental, physical or spiritual. The church seeks to develop a habit of daily, hourlong time with Jesus from six to seven a.m. It's still black outside, and cold (yes, Texas knows cold), and the drive to church takes a good twenty minutes for me. The last thing I want to do is get up in the bleak of morn to drive twenty minutes to church to spend time with Jesus and pray with other when I can't keep my eyes open. But I do it... not daily, of course, but I do go enough that I am content with my effort.

The church isn't open on Friday. They give the staff that morning to sleep. I'd forgotten this. He woke me. I got up, dressed, drove and found that only one other car was in the parking lot, one belonging to my friend, also named Jennifer. She sad her cat had woken her by sitting on her face. She figured she was supposed to get up. We sat in her SUV talking for a good while. I'd asked her why people didn't want to spend time with me. She didn't want to upset me, was wary of answering, but I told her I wanted to know so I could be better with people. She told me then I talk too much.

I wish I could tell you I've always struggled with this. My parents spent a significant amount of money taking me to assorted counselors in my childhood and adolescence. I had so much about which to talk, so many subjects I could broach, so many wounds needing healing. But I was ashamed of them all. Some still weigh heavy in my mind and heart. I couldn't talk. I couldn't let the world know how much I hated myself for the things I'd done, how much I hated my peers and teachers. How much I wanted to die. I couldn't admit any of it.

When I thought I'd found love twenty years ago, when I'd been spinning at the top of a glorious whirlpool and he said things that, like the hand of God, shoved me into its depths where I stayed for years afterward... the things he said made sense. It was the way he said them... on his couch with our legs and arms entwined, my head resting on his shoulder, my hand resting on his heart, my tears leaking onto his shirt... NOT because of what he'd said, but all the ghosts, all the boys I'd known. I heard him. I was on the same page he was. If I could've said so, maybe I would've found a way out of the water and onto the shore, where he'd gone. If I could've said I'm with you... but in that moment, I wasn't there. Somehow I'd found the drain and gone through it into the abyss where the ghosts, all the terrible things boys have said to me up to the time I'd met him, where they hide and lie and wait. And I cannot kill them. I could not tell him where I'd gone or how I'd gotten there. I didn't want his pity. 

I've dated since him... but still I could not communicate. One said I had internal conflicts and reservations, and that pissed me off. What woman doesn't? What man? I wasn't able to communicate with a man until my last relationship bought it six years ago. Oh was I glad to be free of him. I had no trouble whatsoever losing him. His idea of a relationship was emotional and mental abuse. I got enough of that from myself, especially for completely dropping the bar my fathers, uncles and cousins had set, allowing him the opportunity to all but ruin me. Damned if I'd take it from him, too. Damned if I'll do that again.

The point is... like in every other aspect of my character, I've gone from not talking about things that matter to me to talking about ALL the things. I share too much. I've yet to learn to listen. 

I say all this because a few days ago, I'd been talking to yet another Bumbler, a traveling nurse who was in my neck of the woods. I'd notice the traveling bit in his profile but had overlooked where home was for him. I'm too hasty with the swiping sometimes. I know this. We exchanged numbers and began talking. One of the first questions I'd asked was about the traveling and where he was based. He'd said Lubbock. 

Lubbock. The mouthbreather from six years before, his last location known to me was Lubbock. Two thoughts: Oh, this again. SWELL. Also, fuck if I drive to Lubbock. I don't care how good the guy might be. I am NEVER going back to that city. I felt this in my gut. I acknowledge it but didn't act on it. And then there were all the words, the keys shall we say that unlock a woman's defenses. I recognized them, but didn't act on them. We met. More unease. And that same day, I let him go.

Yall. I can't tell you how proud of this I am. I engaged in what had, for the most part, been good conversation. I was more alert to the flags. I saw them waving. But I also didn't want to assume the dude was a jackass just because the rest I've known had been so... and I would've wanted a man to give me the same grace. I gave it. I rescinded it, and I did so in what I thought was a mature and eloquent manner. Of course he didn't respond... just disappeared as all the others have done. Yes, I probably should've heeded the first flag and nipped it in the bud then and there. I'm learning. Still. 

Listening's hard stuff. God's been teaching me, and I'm starting to pay attention.

BUT, while that is, to me gold, these other things, like Jennifer and I both going to church that Friday when it was closed, I have seen miracles.

I've talked about the dental work, and all the ordeals from that. I believe I referenced in that post the goodness I've known through those experiences.

Let me tell you about my favorite, the most extraordinary activity of all.

I severed ties with my previous employer, a tutoring facility, January fifth. They'd cut my hours from full to part-time and reduced them to something like five per week. That would've been about eighty dollars, and with taxes cut I would've seen about sixty-five. It cost me, at the time about sixty bucks to fill up my tank. So I would've been commuting an hour round trip three days a week to earn the money I'd need to spend on gas to get me to work. No thank you. I cleared out my cubicle, most of my belongings there were food, and resigned, effective immediately. On the way home I found a woman dressed in a pink parka with heavy brown fur lining, standing roadside on the edge of Trader Joe's parking lot. I thought, help her. And then I thought I've twenty bucks, and I just quit my job. I passed her. I thought again, you have food, and she needs that twenty bucks more. So I turned into the parking lot, circled back to her and gave her what I had.

Two days later, as I was leaving Target, I saw an elderly man standing at the lot's exit to the intersection. I had ten dollars. I gave it to him.

The next day, Saturday, I got up and went to prayer at the church, I'd dreaded the immature way I'd handled my funds over the past week or so. I needed roughly a thousand dollars to get me through the coming month. That's how irresponsible I'd been. I stood and shared the troubles then sat while others prayed aloud for me. I felt called to turn the gentleman behind me and reach for his hand. When I did, he took it and slipped something inside it. I knew it was cash. I didn't look then to see how much it was. When I left the church, the prayer pastor handed me money she wanted to give to me. And then I had breakfast with another church member, and she hired me, paying me five hundred dollars, to help her with work for the charity she ran.

I tithed, in my own way, thirty dollars after resigning that job, one God had been telling me for weeks to leave.

The man seated behind me blessed me with one hundred dollars--ten times what I'd given the man standing alone. The prayer pastor, a generous woman, blessed me with two hundred--twice what I'd given the woman standing alone. And then another woman blessed me with five hundred. 

I took fifty dollars from the money she'd given me and bought groceries for the church's children's food drive. Exactly fifty dollars worth. When has that ever happened? I used some of the money to update my vehicles registration and inspection, and while there, I asked the manager, a friend of mine for almost three decades, about the food drive going on, and how hardly anyone's donated, and would he be willing to contribute fifty bucks. He said yes and reached in his wallet before I'd finished the question. So with his help, I purchased one hundred dollars of food and took it with me to church the next day.

And while I sat in the 9:45 service, the prayer pastor texted wanting to know if I were there and then, yes, she saw me on live feed. Someone else had given her money to pass onto me. Two hundred more dollars. Twentyfold what I'd spent the day before. 

Yall. It is so easy to look at the people following too closely or sitting too long at the light or constantly getting in your way when you've got ten minutes to grab something for that dinner with friends and think the day is SHIT. It is SO easy.

I dare you to look instead for the extraordinary.