Movie Review: "Nebraska"

To quote Lady Gaga (and one of my favorite Miss Nebraskas, Kayla Batt), Nebraska, Nebraska, I love you.

Alexander Payne (Sideways, The Descendants, Election) has directed one of his finest films to date with this black-and-white tale of an old man on a road trip chasing down what might be his last dream.

Woody Grant (Bruce Dern) is a somewhat addled alcoholic without much to live for. He no longer can drive and his wife, Kate (June Squibb), is constantly nagging him and harping on how useless he is. So imagine his pleasure when he receives a letter from a sweepstakes marketing company telling him he won $1 million, and he can claim his prize if he brings the letter to the company's headquarters in Lincoln, Nebraska.

No one in his family believes this windfall to be true, but the thought of winning this money becomes Woody's obsession (much as the thought of appearing on television obsessed Ellen Burstyn's character in Requiem for a Dream). Despite his family's lack of support, Woody constantly leaves his home in Billings, Montana, determined to walk all the way to Lincoln if he has to, much to the chagrin of his wife and older son, television news reporter Ross (Bob Odenkirk).

Finally, Woody's determination gets to his younger son, David (a surprisingly low-key Will Forte, of Saturday Night Live fame). To humor his father, escape his own dead-end life for a while, and perhaps get the opportunity to spend a little time with a man who gave him little when he was growing up, David agrees to drive Woody to Lincoln. But as you might imagine, the trip doesn't quite go as smoothly as David thought it would, and it includes rescuing his father from a few drunken incidents, one which results in Woody's being hospitalized briefly.

The pair takes a detour to the depressed hamlet of Hawthorne, Nebraska, where Woody grew up, and he and his family lived until they moved to Billings when David and Ross were young. Woody's brothers still live in town, as does his old friend, business partner, and sometime nemesis Ed Pegram (Stacy Keach). Despite David's advice to the contrary, news of Woody's million-dollar windfall spreads quickly—he becomes somewhat of a celebrity in the small town, and more than one person comes looking for a little bit of his winnings as "repayment" of old debts.

Bruce Dern gives the performance of his career as Woody, a cantankerous man who knows his life is near its end and wants one more chance for something special. With his shaggy gray hair completely askew, he appears to be completely unaware of what is going on around him, but he's more tuned in than anyone realizes. Dern is funny, truthful, and moving; it's a performance you think you can figure out but he has some surprises up his sleeve. With only one Oscar nomination to his credit (for Coming Home in 1978), it's ironic that one of Dern's chief competitors for an Oscar this year will be another legendary actor with one Oscar nomination for acting to date, Robert Redford.

June Squibb, as Woody's long-suffering wife (although she clearly bestows as much suffering as she gets), is the sharp-tongued comic foil of this film. She has an opinion about absolutely everyone and everything, and isn't afraid to share them. While she likes to remind everyone how put upon she has been as Woody's wife for so many years, it's clear that behind her bluster she truly loves her husband. Squibb is absolutely spot-on fantastic, and I hope to see her on the list of Best Supporting Actress nominees at this year's Oscars.

Will Forte gives an understated yet powerful performance as a man whose life doesn't appear to be going anywhere, mainly because he isn't interested in taking control of it. But his time with his father awakens some protective instincts in him that one would guess might propel him in the right direction after the film ended. I was really impressed with his dramatic ability, as I've only seen him in SNL skits to this point.

This is a funnier film than I expected, with some bittersweet tones to it. At times I wasn't sure if Payne was paying homage to his Nebraska roots or mocking them in his portrayal of some of Woody's relatives, but that uncertainty didn't take away from the film's appeal. I really enjoyed this movie, and hope that people see it, both for the terrifically resonant performances and Alexander Payne's completely assured direction.

Book Review: "This is the Story of a Happy Marriage" by Ann Patchett

Many people ask me how I select the books I read. Sometimes they've been recommended by someone else whose preferences are similar to mine, or I've read enthusiastic reviews about them. In other cases, I've been intrigued by the title or even the cover. (Never underestimate the power of a stroll through a bookstore when you can find one.) But quite often, I choose books written by authors whose books I've come to love. There is a growing list of authors I'm constantly looking up on Amazon to see when their next book will be released, authors whose books I read sight unseen, unless they're a major departure from their usual work.

Ann Patchett is definitely one of those authors. I first became familiar with her after reading the marvelous Bel Canto, then read her earlier books and have devoured all of the books she has written since then, fiction and nonfiction. So I was intrigued to read This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, a collection of articles and other writings she has published in a wide variety of media, from The Atlantic Monthly and The New York Times to Gourmet and Granta, even her introduction to the volume she edited for The Best American Short Stories collection.

Contrary to the title, this isn't just a book about marriage, although several of the articles touch on different aspects of her relationship with her husband Karl through the years. But many of the articles touch on other relationships—her brief, disastrous first marriage; her friendship with the late poet Lucy Grealy (which Patchett so lovingly recounted in her book Truth & Beauty; her grandmother; her dog; one of the nuns that taught her in Catholic school; even her relationship with her work. And still other articles talk about her need for and love of the occasional solitary vacation; her experiences trying out for the LAPD and getting to understand the RV culture; becoming the co-owner of an independent bookstore in Nashville; and her love of short stories.

"Many of the essays I'm proudest of were made from the things that were at hand—writing and love, work and loss. I may have roamed in my fiction, but this work tends to reflect a life lived close to home."

As always, Patchett's writing is thought-provoking, humorous, and, at times, tremendously moving. The articles aren't arranged in chronological order in the book, and they're written for different purposes, so it may take a minute to get your bearings for you to realize where in Patchett's life a particular essay is taking place. (In some she's married, in others she's dating her future husband; in some her dog is a puppy and in some her dog is elderly.) But Patchett always provides context for what she's talking about so it's interesting to get so many different perspectives.

There were so many instances in which I marveled at what Patchett had to say. Her use of language is so dazzling at times I had to re-read paragraphs or sentences to get the full extent of their power. In the title essay, for example, when she recounts the tumultuous relationship she and her husband had in the years before they were married: "I try to study our happiness so that I will be able to remember it in the future, just in case something happens and we find ourselves in need. These moments are the foundation upon which we build the house that will shelter us into our final years, so that when love calls out, 'How far would you go for me?' you can look it in the eye and say truthfully, 'Farther than you would ever have thought was possible.'"

And one other example, from "Dog Without End," a beautiful tribute to her dog: "Sometimes love does not have the most honorable beginnings, and the endings, the endings will break you in half. It's everything in between we live for."

I loved this book as much as I've loved Patchett's fiction. I feel tremendously fortunate to have gotten so much insight into her life, her mind, and her heart, and I think this will help enhance my enjoyment of her future work even more. If you like her writing, definitely pick this up. It's tremendously captivating, even if you choose to read it a little at a time rather than all at once. Don't miss out.

Book Review: "We Are Water" by Wally Lamb

Certain authors have a talent to fully occupy their characters and immerse themselves in their voices, a mighty feat when creating characters completely different from their own lives. Wally Lamb has demonstrated that ability quite impressively since his first novel, She's Come Undone, where his portrayal of an overweight woman was so spot-on, I had to flip back and forth to his picture on the back cover of the book more than a few times.

He once again demonstrates that talent in his latest novel, the melodramatic but thought-provoking We Are Water. Told from the perspectives of eight different characters, sometimes the concept moves the story forward and sometimes it disconnects you from it, but there's no doubt that each of the voices Lamb created are unique and affecting, if not a bit stereotypical at times.

Annie Oh didn't decide to pursue a career as an artist until her children were grown, but she found notoriety and success with her controversial shadowboxes. However, this success created great upheaval in her life, as it led to the end of her marriage to psychologist Orion, and her relationship with her art dealer, gallery owner Viveca. Annie and Viveca plan to marry in Annie's Connecticut hometown of Three Rivers.

A new, later-in-life marriage nearly always brings drama, especially when it is a same-sex marriage. For Orion, Annie's upcoming wedding causes him to reflect on the successes and failures of their relationship, and at the same time, he is forced to dwell on the premature end of his career.

Annie and Orion's three children—Andrew, the former rebel, now in the military and a born-again Christian; his twin sister Ariane, the bookish, "good" child; and free-spirited Marissa, the baby of the family—each have their own crises to deal with as well as their feelings about the end of their parents' marriage and Annie's new relationship. And just like other times when family members gather together, the upcoming wedding is an opportunity to revisit old hurts and hidden secrets, and confront issues that provoke anger and hurt.

If We Are Water had concentrated mainly on Annie, Orion, and their three children, the book would have been stronger. But in trying to explore latent issues regarding racism, prejudice, and psychological issues, Lamb brought in peripheral characters that really pulled the book off track, even when you realized the coincidences of their inclusion. And having to read several chapters written from the perspective of a pedophile, as well as one chapter that depicted a conversation between Andrew's Christian fiancée and conservative radio personality Dr. Laura, was very difficult and jarring.

In the end, I felt as if this book had tremendous potential and a compelling story at its core, but Lamb packed it a little too full of melodrama. (One criminal act, in particular, was utterly unnecessary.) However, Lamb's storytelling ability still makes this book worthwhile to read, because the characters he created are vivid, if not entirely appealing.

Did you know these were covers??

My love for cover songs has been well documented on this blog. But after seeing a recent post on one of my favorite blogs, kenneth in the (212), which led me to a post on Soundwaves, I was amazed to learn that a number of 80s songs we know and love (or at least ones I know and love) were actually cover versions of earlier recordings. Who would've thunk?

Take one of my all-time favorite 1980s songs, Tainted Love, by Soft Cell. I recognize the song by the opening chords. But what's amazing, is that this song was actually recorded in 1964 by R&B singer Gloria Jones, who later re-recorded it as more of a disco song in 1976. It wasn't until Soft Cell released the song in 1981 that it became a hit, peaking at #8 on the Billboard charts.

Here's Gloria Jones' version:

And here's Soft Cell's version:

Switching gears, I wonder if I'm the only one who thought Cyndi Lauper wrote her first hit song, Girls Just Want to Have Fun. Well, if I was, then I'm the only one mistaken, as new wave/rock singer-songwriter Robert Hazard actually recorded the song in 1979, five years before Lauper. (I actually found out that most of her big hits on She's So Unusual—including All Through the Night and Money Changes Everything—were actually covers, too.

Here's Hazard's version:

And here's Lauper's iconic hit:

While Cher made one of her infamous comebacks in 1987, starting with the hit I Found Someone, the song was actually recorded originally a few years later by another 1980s icon, the late Laura Branigan, although Cher's version was a hit.

Here's Branigan's version:

And here's Cher's version:

See the Soundwaves post for more of these 1980s hits that might surprise you, including I Want Candy and Bette Davis Eyes.

Ah, 80s music. The gift that keeps on giving.

Movie Review: "The Hunger Games: Catching Fire"

I'm a huge fan of the Hunger Games series. I devoured all three books, and while I didn't see either of the movies on opening night (nor did I dress in costume), I did purchase my tickets for both films weeks in advance, and saw both during opening weekend.

I continue to be tremendously impressed with the quality of these movies, and their faithfulness to the books. (Author Suzanne Collins' involvement in the movies has certainly helped as well.) And while I questioned some of the casting choices in the first movie, by the time those actors appeared onscreen, I totally got the vision, and was hooked as completely by the movies as I was by the books. Catching Fire was definitely my favorite book in the trilogy, and I think I enjoyed this movie a bit more than the first, partially because I wasn't sitting through the movie with my mouth wide open, marveling at how closely what I pictured when reading the book was translated onto the screen.

Much to the surprise of everyone—including the leader of the Republic of Panem, the dastardly President Snow (Donald Sutherland)—there were two winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) and her teammate, Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson). There never have been two winners in the Games' history, but Katniss and Peeta's alleged love story bewitched viewers, and their willingness to sacrifice it all for their love left those in the charge of the Games no choice.

President Snow doesn't believe the love story, and thinks Katniss' manipulation of the situation (and Peeta) was an act of defiance. This act of defiance has made Katniss a symbol to the downtrodden citizens in the different districts, and Snow needs to preempt any rebellion before it takes hold. But as Katniss and Peeta travel through the districts on a "Victors' Tour," the citizens take their presence as a sign that they must strike back, no matter how closely to the government line the two try to hew.

His desire to destroy Katniss growing daily, Snow, in partnership with new head gamesmaster Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman), creates the ultimate challenge for the Quarter Quell, the celebration of the Games' 75th anniversary—past winners will compete against each other (originally, all winners were set for life, living on their celebrity). Heavensbee assures Snow that once the audience sees Katniss' true colors, as she is forced to defend herself against seasoned former winners (or die), they will turn on her, and she will no longer be the lightning rod for rebellion among the districts. And at the same time, the government cracks down on the districts, particularly Katniss' own, District 12, leaving those she loves at great risk.

Katniss knows she needs to build alliances with her competitors, and most importantly, needs the support of Peeta. But as she struggles to clarify her feelings both for him and her childhood friend Gale (the stoic and barely-onscreen Liam Hemsworth), she realizes that her survival is going to depend upon outsmarting not only her competitors, but the games makers themselves—as well as her heart and her mind. And all have some tricks up their proverbial sleeves.

Jennifer Lawrence is a magnetic force when she is onscreen. Ever since I first saw her in Winter's Bone, I've been mesmerized by her talent, her charisma, and the sheer power of the characters she embodies, and this movie is no exception. As Katniss deals with her grief and her frightening memories of her first competition in the Games, she grows ever more conflicted about the path she should take, and who she should take it with. When she's onscreen, you can't take your eyes off of her, so it's good that she's in nearly every scene.

While this is a series about Katniss Everdeen, I felt as if Peeta had more of a presence in the books and in the first movie than he did in Catching Fire. Josh Hutcherson doesn't show much spark in this movie, and although you know that his feelings for Katniss were genuine as opposed to manufactured for the Games, he didn't appear to feel that way. But the movies' treatment of Gale as mostly an afterthought doesn't give you a strong reason that Katniss should want to be with Gale, either.

Sutherland glowers like only Sutherland can (I will always love that man's voice), and Hoffman appears shrewd and dastardly. Woody Harrelson and Elizabeth Banks, as Katniss and Peeta's mentor, former winner Haymitch, and their escort, the effervescent Effie Trinket, both bring charm and emotion to their smaller roles. Among her competitors, Jena Malone, as the tempestuous Johanna Mason; Sam Claflin, as the physically appealing and emotionally complicated Finnick Odair; the always-fantastic Jeffrey Wright, as electronics expert Beetee; and Amanda Plummer, doing her best Amanda Plummer as Beetee's fellow tribute, Wiress, have the meatiest roles.

If you take the Hunger Games series at its core, it's a disturbing concept—young people fight to the death at the pleasure of those watching, much as the ancient gladiators did for the Romans. But like its predecessor, Catching Fire is more than a dystopic take on Survivor—it's a powerful tale of deciding to do what is right versus what you want; a tale of survival—physical and emotional—and a tale about defeating the odds, no matter what the cost, because the alternative is too costly. I feel like this movie hit all of those targets quite well, and I can't wait to see what comes next, although inevitably, the closer we get to the end of the series, the sadder I'll be.

My advice: read the books AND see the movies. You'll be glad you did.

Remember these?

I'll admit it: I was a sucker for cassette tapes. Because my cars up until 2001 had only cassette players, I resisted buying a lot of CDs until it was difficult to get new music on cassette. (And then I had to buy blank tapes to record all of my CDs onto cassettes. Such fun.)

I used to constantly make mix tapes with different themes, and of course, the attempt to tape things off the radio was a constant battle. In the pre-Internet days you couldn't Google lyrics to figure out what song was playing, and you always had to wait with your finger on the pause button for the commercials to stop or for the DJ to stop talking. And then you had to be ready when the song ended, to hit pause again before the next song cut in. Good times.

Anyway, seeing these pictures totally brought me back to those days, when you'd share cassettes and write—in painstaking detail—what was on each one. Sometimes, if it was only one record or CD you taped, you'd photocopy the cover for the cassette case.

Man, I'm old. But hope you enjoy the nostalgia!

Book Review: "The Two Hotel Francforts" by David Leavitt

There comes a moment when your life changes. For Pete Winters that moment came when Edward Freling stepped on his glasses in a crowded cafe in Lisbon, Portugal. It's 1940 and the world is a chaotic place, with Hitler making his way across Europe. Lisbon is the only neutral port left, and refugees from all over Europe have crowded into Portugal, hoping for sanctuary or at least a place to wait until finding passage somewhere else.

Pete and his wife, Julia, are expatriate Americans forced to leave their longtime home in Paris when the city was occupied. They've been staying in Lisbon, although expected to sail back to the U.S., much to Julia's chagrin. The thought of having to return to America has completely unsettled her, as she had vowed to her estranged family she'd never leave Europe, but the fact that she's Jewish (a reality she understandably doesn't make public) complicates their ability to go anywhere else.

Edward and his wife, Iris, are independently wealthy writers, who have lived nearly all over the world. They, too, are headed back to the U.S. on the same ship as Pete and Julia. They are free spirits, loose where the Winters' are uptight, although they are not without their share of challenges.

The two couples find themselves continually thrown together, spending their days in cafes and sightseeing, their nights drinking. Julia would rather play solitaire and brood by herself, lamenting that she will have to leave Portugal. Pete and Edward, much to their surprise, begin a torrid affair. Pete finds himself quickly falling in love with Edward, imagining a life spent together. But while Edward, too, feels very strongly for Pete, his life and his marriage are far more complicated. Iris will do anything to keep her marriage intact.

"Because there are occasions when none of the choices are good. You simply have to calculate which is the least bad."

It's been said that certain things happen in wartime that wouldn't happen at other times. The same is true for the period leading up to war. People find themselves acting differently, thinking differently, making decisions they wouldn't otherwise make. But are those decisions, those feelings true, or just borne by circumstance? The Two Hotel Francforts is an introspective novel about relationships, about things said and unsaid, how you never can truly know what a person is thinking or feeling, or what secrets they've kept hidden, and how those secrets are affecting them.

I've always been a fan of David Leavitt's writing since I first read The Lost Language of Cranes years ago. He creates such vivid characters you can practically see with your own eyes, or imagine coming into contact with them in your daily life. His storytelling ability is on fine display in this book, which is at times passionate and moving, at times contemplative.

I enjoyed The Two Hotel Francforts but it left me with more questions than answers, particularly around Pete and Edward's relationship. I couldn't figure out if this was a whim for Pete or something he truly felt. I also found the way the plot was tied up rather confusing, as an incident pretty crucial to the whole story was told more in passing than anything else, and I was confused and frustrated by that.

In the end, this is a book that has several love stories tied together, as it explores secrets, dreams, fears, and frustrations. While it's not a perfect book, it's well written and compelling, and I'm glad to see David Leavitt back in the world of fiction again.

Bet that wasn't the advice they were looking for!

Don't know if you've heard about this, but in the syndicated "Ask Amy" advice column that appears in newspapers across the country, a parent recently wrote the following to columnist Amy Dickinson:

DEAR AMY: I recently discovered that my son, who is 17, is a homosexual. We are part of a church group and I fear that if people in that group find out they will make fun of me for having a gay child.

He won’t listen to reason, and he will not stop being gay. I feel as if he is doing this just to get back at me for forgetting his birthday for the past three years — I have a busy work schedule.

Please help him make the right choice in life by not being gay. He won’t listen to me, so maybe he will listen to you.
—Feeling Betrayed

(You've got to wonder if this person really is serious.)

Amy's reply was fairly straightforward, but probably not what this parent was looking for.

DEAR BETRAYED: You could teach your son an important lesson by changing your own sexuality to show him how easy it is. Try it for the next year or so: Stop being a heterosexual to demonstrate to your son that a person’s sexuality is a matter of choice — to be dictated by one’s parents, the parents’ church and social pressure.

I assume that my suggestion will evoke a reaction that your sexuality is at the core of who you are. The same is true for your son. He has a right to be accepted by his parents for being exactly who he is.

When you "forget" a child’s birthday, you are basically negating him as a person. It is as if you are saying that you have forgotten his presence in the world. How very sad for him. Pressuring your son to change his sexuality is wrong. If you cannot learn to accept him as he is, it might be safest for him to live elsewhere.

A group that could help you and your family figure out how to navigate this is Pflag.org. This organization is founded for parents, families, friends and allies of LGBT people, and has helped countless families through this challenge. Please research and connect with a local chapter.

It makes me sad that there are parents and other adults (some of whom are lawmakers, scarily enough) who believe that your sexual orientation can be changed as a result of pressure or, God forbid, therapy. I doubt that Amy's advice will change this parent's mind, but I hope that their child has the confidence to resist whatever it is his parents try to do.

I've no doubt that one day these things will be sad little anecdotes we'll look back on with horror and disbelief, but until then, it's kind of scary. And depressing. Kudos to Amy Dickinson for an incredible response.

Book Review: "Champion" by Marie Lu

Boy, do I hate when a book series ends. Especially when it's a series that I love, one that is compelling and well-written. So needless to say, I'm a bit bereft that Champion marks the end of Marie Lu's Legend series. I appreciate telling your story concisely, but really, Marie? Only three books?

The cease fire between the Republic and the Colonies has taken effect. Day is back to being regarded as an upstanding member of the Republic, being assigned a key military position, while June is now a high-ranking member of the government, the youngest Princeps-Elect, alongside the newly installed Elector Primo, Anden, who promises a much more benevolent and upstanding rule than his father.

But these new roles for Day and June—and the sacrifices that brought them both to this point—have taken their toll on their relationship. Day is concentrating on overseeing his brother Eden's recovery, and dealing with his own health challenges. However, their time apart is short lived, when they learn that the Colonies blame the Republic for a plague outbreak, and this threatens the peace between the two countries. And the key to finding a cure to the plague may lie within Eden, but is Day willing to yet again put one of his loved ones at risk for the sake of the Republic?

As the possibility of war hangs over their heads, threatening to destroy everything they've known, both Day and June are forced to make difficult decisions about their next steps. Should Day concentrate only on his brother's recovery and taking care of his own health, or should he continue to help the Republic fight back? Is June's path one of leadership in the government, or should she go back to being a soldier? Can their relationship truly survive knowing how much has come between them?

Champion was a terrific conclusion to this series. I've really grown to love these characters, the storylines, and the entire world that Marie Lu has created. The amount of thought that has gone into the smallest details really shows, and I truly appreciate that the characters remained fairly true to themselves the entire series. While it's hard to identify with the dystopian setting of the books, the characters aren't superhuman, so you can identify somewhat with their feelings and struggles, even if you're not facing the very destruction of your world. (At least not in the same way.)

If you've never read any of these books, you're probably wondering what in hell I'm talking about. But I'd totally recommend picking up the first book in the series, Legend, because you'd be surprised how quickly you'll find yourself drawn into this world.

I can't wait to see what comes next for Marie Lu. While I hope this is truly not the end of reading about Day and June, she is a really great writer, and I look forward to reading her future books.

"Show Your Joe" makes people grumble...

Proving that people can cause controversy about nearly everything, Joe Boxer's new holiday commercial for Kmart (which I didn't even realize was still around, since they all have gone out of business around here) has been causing people to get, well, up in...arms.

Conservative groups have decried the commercial, and have asked Kmart to pull it from circulation. Some on social media have called the commercial "a paean to pedophilia," because apparently "Joe Boxer isn't worn by anyone over 15 years old, so they must be targeting young men."

Seriously. It's a commercial for boxer shorts, people. Merry freaking Christmas, everyone.

Cool cover song of the week...

There are few rock songs as iconic as Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven. From the opening chords to the memorable lyrics (I'll admit I find myself saying, "If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now" every now and again, but I'm odd) to the way the song changes tempo and volume as it progresses, it's amazing how this 8+-minute song has endured, more than 40 years after it was released in 1971.

Rolling Stone ranked Stairway to Heaven #31 on its list of "The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time," and in 2000, VH1 ranked the song #3 on its list of the 100 Greatest Rock Songs. It was the most requested song on FM radio stations in the United States in the 1970s, despite never having been officially released as a single there.

In 2012, Led Zeppelin was among the annual Kennedy Center Honorees. While the honor itself is pretty amazing, what's even cooler (at least in my opinion) is the talent they assemble each year to honor the recipients. There have been memorable speeches, emotional moments, and incredible performances (witness Tony winner Heather Headley's rendition of Your Song during the 2004 ceremony when Elton John was honored).

During the 2012 ceremony, Heart performed Stairway to Heaven. (And while Heart's heyday started in the 1970s, as a child of the 80s, I've always been a huge fan.) But if the performance itself wasn't enough, on the drums during this performance was Jason Bonham, son of Led Zeppelin's legendary drummer, the late John Bonham.

So here's Heart's tribute performance of Stairway to Heaven:

And here's the classic original. (Have your lighter ready.)

Check out my previous Cool Cover Songs of the Week:

Borderline by The Counting Crows

How Deep Is Your Love by The Bird and The Bee

Life in a Northern Town by Sugarland, Little Big Town, and Jake Owen

I Don't Want to Talk About It by The Indigo Girls

Only You by Joshua Radin

Pure Imagination by Maroon 5

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Blake Stratton

What a Fool Believes by Neri Per Caso

Poker Face by Daughtry

Back to Black by Ronnie Spector

I Will Survive by Cake

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by The Stereophonics

Rolling in the Deep by John Legend

Go Your Own Way by Lissie

Winner Takes it All by McFly

What a Wonderful World by Joey Ramone

Careless Whisper by Seether

I Walk the Line by Live

Dear Prudence by Siouxsie and The Banshees

Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm

Who Wants to Live Forever by Breaking Benjamin

Redemption Song by Chris Cornell and Audioslave

Love Me Tender by Chris Isaak and Brandi Carlile

All You Need is Love by The Flaming Lips

Lovesong by Adele

I Love It by Robin Thicke

Billie Jean by The Civil Wars

Across the Universe by The Scorpions

Can't Hold Us by Pentatonix

Wicked Game by James Vincent McMorrow

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) by The Postal Service

Jolene by The White Stripes

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by Justin Timberlake

More Than This by Norah Jones

Royals by Mayer Hawthorne

I Can't Go for That (No Can Do) by The Bird and The Bee

Ain't No Sunshine by Silent Rider

Crazy by Ray Lamontagne

Movie Review: "Thor: The Dark World"

No matter how old I get, I'll never tire of superhero movies. That's a good thing, because Hollywood doesn't seem to be getting tired of making them. But fortunately, many of them are worth watching, even some of the sequels.

Thor: The Dark World definitely falls into that category. While, like many sequels, it doesn't quite capture the magic and charm of the original, it's fun, familiar and everyone plays their parts well. And these days, could you really ask for much more?

The plot is a little more complicated than it should be. A long time ago, in a galaxy—oh, wait. Years and years ago, the Asgardians faced off against a race of evil dark elves (who looked like a cross between the Sand People from Star Wars without the desert garb and the Teletubbies), led by Malekith, who was prepared to release a powerful substance called aether (pronounced like the old-fashioned sleeping gas), a force of energy which was pure evil. But Odin's ancestors were able to defeat the elves, purportedly destroy the aether (although it was actually buried far underground), and Malekith was doomed to a life of comatose exile, much like General Zod and his crew in Man of Steel.

Fast forward a while. Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is trying to bring peace and order to the kingdoms of the Nine Realms, while Jane (Natalie Portman, perkier than normal), who hasn't spoken with Thor in two years, is in London trying to move forward with her life. But when Jane suddenly becomes a host for the aether (well, it's complicated), Thor reappears, and brings her to Asgard. Of course, Jane's brush with the aether has awoken Malekith and his crew, who are determined to recapture this evil force and destroy Asgard and its people once and for all, before taking control of the universe.

The fact is, it's more entertaining and interesting than it sounds, although the preamble which explains this takes a bit longer than it should. But needless to say, Thor must both save Jane and Asgard from Malekith and the elves, a battle which takes them throughout the Nine Realms and takes more of a toll on everyone than they would have hoped. Thor must enlist the help of his troublesome stepbrother, Loki (a dastardly fabulous Tom Hiddleston), who has been imprisoned for life for his treachery, although he knows inherently he shouldn't.

Will Thor save the day? Will Loki betray him once again? Will true love win, or will Thor and Jane continue to truly live in two separate worlds?

What do you think?

Hemsworth still looks appropriately super in his third outing as Thor (after the first movie and The Avengers), although because his character is so conflicted, he seems a little less commanding. Hiddleston is twisted and evil and entertaining, and he is the one you can't take your eyes off of every time he's on screen. Portman has far less to do in this movie except play the classic woman-who-needs-saving-by-the-superhero (see Kim Basinger, Nicole Kidman, Katie Holmes, or Maggie Gyllenhaal in any of the Batman movies, etc.), although she did get to spout some authentic-sounding scientific dialogue. And Anthony Hopkins, as Odin, gets to chew the scenery as only Hopkins can.

But despite all that I've said, this is a fun, entertaining romp, that you'll enjoy if you liked the first movie. I'm guessing the next Avengers movie should bring these folks back again, and I'm looking forward to that. I guess as long as they keep making these movies, I'll keep watching.

Movie Review: "12 Years a Slave"

Wow. Unbelievable.

Emotionally searing, painful, and powerful, Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave tells the true story of Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a free black man living in Saratoga, New York with his family in the 1840s. He is a well-regarded member of his community, nattily dressed, and a talented musician. When his wife and children leave for a few weeks, he is convinced by two circus entertainers to travel with them to Washington, D.C., and perform with them in their shows for a week.

The week goes well, and the night before Solomon is to travel home to New York, the trio goes out for a celebratory dinner. Solomon drinks a little too much, gets sick, and the next thing he knows, he wakes up in a cell in shackles. Regardless of how much he protests, he cannot convince his jailers who he is or that he is a free man; they insist he is a runaway slave from Georgia. While he refuses to let his captors break his spirit despite savagely violent beatings, he quickly begins to recognize that he cannot continue to demonstrate just how intelligent he is if he is to have any hope of surviving this ordeal. But he is determined not to lose his dignity.

He is sold by a shrewd salesman (Paul Giamatti) to Mr. Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch), who is as humane as a slaveowner can actually be. But while he realizes that Solomon (known as Platt) is clearly smarter and shrewder than the average slave, he doesn't want to know the truth. And when he cannot protect him from a vengeance-seeking overseer that Solomon disgraced (the always slightly-unhinged Paul Dano), Ford sells Platt to Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender), who is proud of the cruelty he visits upon his slaves.

Epps knows there is more to Platt than meets the eye, which raises his ire on more than one occasion. But Epps is obsessed with Patsey (a luminous Lupita Nyong'o), a female slave on his plantation, a fact that Epps' manipulative and jealous wife (Sarah Paulson) recognizes all too well. Patsey knows she is risking her life and her safety by encouraging Epps' affections, especially when Epps' wife will do anything, including resorting to physical violence, to try and rid Patsey from her life and her home. But when Patsey finally takes one step too far, Epps can no longer handle his paranoid jealousy or his wife's nagging.

McQueen, working from a script by John Ridley (based on Solomon Northup's book, 12 Years a Slave), does an absolutely exquisite job with this movie. It doesn't sugarcoat the violence visited upon slaves, but while difficult to watch at times, it is never heavy-handed. McQueen's use of lingering camera shots and voiceovers increase the haunting, elegiac qualities of the movie even more effectively than dialogue. And while you know, in essence, how the film will resolve itself, that doesn't lessen its power one iota.

Chiwetel Ejiofor delivers one of the most phenomenal performances I've seen in years, and as effective as his dialogue and vocal reactions are, his gestures and his physical reactions up the ante even more. He has the most expressive eyes I've ever seen, and uses them to tremendous effect. You can see that Solomon wants to give into his despair from time to time, but his resolve will not allow him to do so. While I have a feeling the Oscars will recognize Robert Redford this year for his man-against-the sea performance in All is Lost, Ejifor's work deserves so much recognition.

Lupita Nyong'o, in her first film role, is absolutely incredible. Not only is she physically striking but she commands your attention any time she is onscreen, and more than holds her own against Ejiofor, Fassbender, even Alfre Woodard. Her performance is courageous, emotional, dignified, and so rich. I wouldn't be surprised if her name is called more than once during awards season.

Fassbender is mesmerizing as a man clearly on the verge of insanity, but whose pride and lust for power makes him even more dangerous. Cumberbatch is sensitive and conflicted in his small role, but of course, you can only be frustrated with his character that he was unwilling to push beyond the expected behaviors of the time period in which he was living. Paulson plays a clearly unsympathetic character, but you can't look away when she's onscreen to see what she'll do next.

This movie is really a triumph of both movie making and acting. It will make you feel, but it never tells you what to think. For a movie that runs nearly two and a half hours, it is never slow and it never loses your attention. It's a movie that hurts, but you can't help but marvel at it. Simply amazing.

Book Review: "Things We Set on Fire" by Deborah Reed

Old tensions, hurts, and unresolved arguments between family members are never fun to actually experience, but they're fodder for a treasure trove of fantastic books, movies, television shows, and plays. Deborah Reed's new novel, Things We Set on Fire, is an exquisitely rendered story about the hurts we don't forget and what they drive us to do, as well as the things we think we understand and the truths we rarely do.

When a tragedy reunites Vivvie with both of her estranged daughters, and introduces her to her two young granddaughters for the first time, it's almost more than she can bear. Memories of her husband's tragic death in a hunting accident nearly 30 years before haunt her, and the incident and its aftermath was enough to send both of her daughters fleeing their home as soon as they could, and fleeing each other as well.

"Why did everything have to go unspoken between Vivvie and Elin? Unspoken but not unaware. Why did they feel the need to play this game of fool you/fool me that neither was winning or would ever win?"

Vivvie's older daughter, Elin, is the midst of her own crisis when her mother summons her home to Florida, so leaving Portland seems like the logical thing to do. But Elin has run before, and it cost her more than she ever imagined. And returning home reopens wounds that had never really healed, and forces her to confront incidents from her past that she had hoped never to deal with again.

"Her sister was a stranger whose life had existed outside of Elin's understanding, hidden from her affections, an outsider with a warmth and affection all her own, uncloaked inside this house, broadcast in everything around her, the faces of her daughters the most staggering display."

So often in life problems stem from jumping to the wrong conclusions or simply leaving things unsaid in the hopes they're already understood. As Vivvie and her daughters come together again, they have to relive memories from long ago and accept the correct answers to questions they've always had. Yet while these do bring more pain, they also bring catharsis, as only through clarity can they start to heal and move on with their lives.

This is a beautifully written book about trying to come together after so much has transpired through so many years. Deborah Reed does a wonderful job in creating flawed characters that evoke your sympathies, and demonstrating how, much like real life, what we think we know and see is often quite different than what is true. Reed's story is painful, emotional, and moving, and her language is tremendously poetic. While you may not have experienced any of these issues that the characters in Things We Set on Fire did, the emotions the characters deal with are nearly universal, which increases its power. Well done.

Seriously?

If you've ever waited tables before, you know what it's like to have horribly rude customers from time to time. But the other night, Dayna Morales, a waitress at Gallo Asian Restaurant in Bridgewater, NJ, had customers who redefined the word.

Morales, a former Marine, should have known something was up when she seated the family and they commented on her short haircut. "Oh," one of the customers said. "I thought you were going to say your name was Dan. You sure surprised us!"

But the final straw came when the family left Morales no tip on a $93.55 bill, but instead wrote this comment on the check: "I'm sorry but I cannot tip because I don't agree with your lifestyle & how you live your life."

Honestly, as a friend said in response to an incident earlier this week, the crazy is starting to run loose in this world.

Now sure, this is a fairly isolated incident, but it comes on the heels of similar circumstances a few weeks ago, when a gay waiter at a Carrabba's Italian Grill in Overland Park, Kansas, received this note on his check instead of a tip: "We hope you will see the tip your fag choices made you lose out on, and plan accordingly."

Every time a legislator says that human rights should be decided by vote or that not every person is entitled to equality, and when the Speaker of the House of Representatives says that there is no need for legislation protecting employment discrimination against LGBT people when they can be fired for being gay in 29 states, we foster this type of attitude.

I don't know who these people think they are, but I hope they are forced to answer for their behavior someday, but whatever God they think entitles them to treat people in this way.

Book Review: "The Husband's Secret" by Liane Moriarty

Wow, I may be a little late to the party on this book, but I'm really glad I read it. This is the perfect example of a thought-provoking beach read—it grips you immediately, keeps you totally fascinated, and the plot is almost completely believable, but you won't feel embarrassed reading it, because it's well-written.

Cecilia Fitzpatrick is the very definition of an overachieving wife and mother. Her house is spotless and organized to the hilt, she's the president of the Parents & Friends association at her daughters' school, she has a successful business on the side, and is the first to participate, greet, and help, in every situation. With three (reasonably) well-behaved daughters, and a (somewhat) perfect marriage to handsome and successful John-Paul, she certainly appears to have it all.

Then one morning she finds a envelope addressed in her husband's hand, to her, which says it should only be opened in the event of his death. And as she ponders what could be in this letter, she starts realizing that things with John-Paul haven't been as solid as usual. Her daughters mention some odd behavior, and then there's the fact that they haven't had sex in quite some time. Should she read the letter or adhere to his wishes and put it away?

Meanwhile, Tess has just found out that her husband and her cousin—her co-workers and two closest friends in the world—have fallen in love. She flees her Melbourne home with their young son, and retreats to her mother's house in Sydney to figure her life out. This solution is complicated by the reappearance of an old boyfriend and the fact that her husband and cousin won't stop calling her to explain.

Rachel has been living her life mourning her daughter, Janie, who was mysteriously murdered when she was younger. Some 20 years after Janie's death, she still holds a grudge against who she thinks the killer was. The only thing that brightens her days is her time with her young grandson, but Rachel's son has just mentioned that he is moving his family to New York.

Cecilia, Tess, and Rachel know each other (or know of each other) peripherally, but their lives will suddenly connect in ways they have never expected. They will discover truths they never knew, and find themselves making sacrifices they never considered. The Husband's Secret shows that you never know everything you think you do about those you love, and how secrets almost always have a way of hurting others.

I thought this was a completely compelling read from start to finish, and I flew through the book very quickly. Sure, it's a little melodramatic, but not in a bad way—the main characters have some pretty major issues to deal with. Liane Moriarty is a great storyteller, and even if certain strands of the plot are predictable, they don't take away from the book's appeal. I really enjoyed this.

Book Review: "The Signature of All Things" by Elizabeth Gilbert

Alma Whittaker is a force to be reckoned with.

Born in 1800 to Henry Whittaker, the English son of a poor gardener who, through every trick in the book, transformed himself into the richest man in Philadelphia, and his blunt, intelligent wife, Beatrix, Alma learned at a very young age that she had the world at her disposal. Encouraged to never stop learning, and questioning everything around her, she was more than able to hold her own in conversations with scientific experts before reaching adulthood. Inspired by her father's successes in botany, Alma throws herself into studying the flora around her voraciously.

But as she grows into adulthood, Alma realizes she wants more out of life than knowledge. While she enjoys the passion that comes from intellectual pursuits and spirited conversation, she also dreams of the passion of romance and sexual fulfillment. But hearing far too many times from childhood that she is "the homely one," she comes to the conclusion that those dreams may never be a reality for her, so she focuses solely on her studies, her science, and helping to manage her father's estate, while dealing with romantic disappointments.

And then in her early 50s, she meets Ambrose Pike, a talented biological lithographer whose paintings of orchids are unlike anything Alma has ever seen. She immediately feels a connection with Ambrose—they are connected by a thirst for knowledge and a passion for nature. Yet while Alma has always focused on the scientific, Ambrose's beliefs lie in more spiritual, magical, and divine areas, which challenges everything she has ever believed and known. But she finds herself falling passionately in love with him.

"There is only so long that a person can keep her enthusiasms locked away within her heart before she longs to share it with a fellow soul, and Alma had many decades of thoughts much overdue for sharing."

Elizabeth Gilbert's The Signature of All Things is meticulously researched and tremendously detailed. It spans from Henry Whittaker's voyages as a young boy all over the world to Alma's travels as a much older woman. The book takes you to Tahiti, the Netherlands, Chile, Argentina, England, and many other places, and introduces characters as wide and varied as scientific experts, Tahitian natives, missionaries, sailors, and abolitionists. Alma is a fantastically intriguing character. Her presence is tremendously felt throughout the book—this is a woman whose mind is always working, always seeking, and yet it is her heart that gives her trouble.

While this book has a great deal of charm, and Elizabeth Gilbert is an exceptional storyteller, I just didn't love it. The story at its core was fascinating and intriguing, yet the more detail Gilbert packed in about science and religion, the less it appealed to me. It felt a bit like gilding the lily—Gilbert used five, ten, fifteen pages to make a point when I got her point in only one. It took me longer to read this book than I expected because it is very cerebral, although it does have a lot of heart along with its head.

"She knew that the world was plainly divided into those who fought an unrelenting battle to live, and those who surrendered and died. This was a simple fact. This fact was not merely true about the lives of human beings; it was also true of every living entity on the planet, from the largest creation down to the humblest."

A heartwarming Veterans' Day story...

World War II veteran Harold Jellicoe Percival died in his Lancashire, United Kingdom nursing home on October 25 at the age of 99. Being that Harold was single and had no surviving family or friends to attend his funeral, the funeral home added to his newspaper obituary a request that any serviceman in the area attend if possible.

Thanks to the beauty of the internet, which found Harold's obituary, posted the image online, and saw it quickly go viral on Twitter. A reddit post calling on reddit users to attend was upvoted to the top of the front page for most of the weekend. The funeral was held today, which is Remembrance Day in the UK, and according to BBC News, "About a hundred people were inside [the service] with another 400 standing silently outside in the rain."

With today being Veterans' Day, I'd like to take another opportunity to thank everyone who has served in the military for their courage and their willingness to sacrifice their own lives to ensure we have the freedoms we do. The world is richer and we are luckier because you have stood tall and defended us. As I said earlier today on Facebook, never forget for a single second that we are the land of the free because of the brave.

Movie Review: "Dallas Buyers Club"

I remember watching A Time to Kill back in the mid-1990s and thinking that Matthew McConaughey was a pretty talented actor, an opinion reinforced shortly thereafter when I saw the little-known indie film Lone Star. Then it seemed as if he started to be known more for his often-shirtless (not that there's anything wrong with that) performances as a wisecracking slacker or ladies' man, as well as his bongo-drum-playing antics off-screen, and I wondered whether the early promise he showed was just a fluke.

But in the last several years, McConaughey is proving himself an actor to be reckoned with, in addition to being easy on the eyes. His performances in Magic Mike, Bernie, The Lincoln Lawyer, and Mud have been terrific, and finally have him being mentioned in the same sentence with those actors of his generation known for their talent first.

With Dallas Buyers Club, he seals the deal. Based on a true story, McConaughey plays Ron Woodroof, a hard-partying Texas electrician, who loves a good rodeo as much as he loves hookers, alcohol, and cocaine. In 1985, just as America learned that Rock Hudson was dying of AIDS, Woodroof gets the surprise of his life when he is diagnosed as HIV positive and told by doctors that he has 30 days to live. Needless to say, he doesn't take this revelation well, as he doesn't want anyone to think he's gay. "And there ain't nothing that's gonna kill Ron Woodroof," he exclaims as he leaves the hospital defiantly.

But when reality sets in, he realizes he's in need of AZT, which is being tested in hospitals around the U.S. Refused a place in the clinical trials by his doctors (Denis O'Hare and Jennifer Garner), he bribes a hospital orderly to steal the drug for him, which he proceeds to take with a bourbon-and-cocaine chaser. When his supply of the drug runs out, he heads to Mexico, where he finds himself under the care of an unlicensed doctor (Griffin Dunne, in shaggy hippie mode), who treats him with non-FDA-approved vitamin supplements and proteins. During his recuperation in Mexico, Ron has his "aha" moment—he can sell these drugs to the growing number of HIV and AIDS patients in Dallas.

Teaming up with transvestite Rayon (Jared Leto, looking luminously skeletal), who can get the homophobic Woodroof access to the gay community he continues to alienate, the pair forms a "buyers club," in which people pay money as membership dues in order to have access to the drugs they so desperately need. Of course, Woodroof continues to run afoul of O'Hare's character, who plays the unsympathetic role as the doctor pushing the only approved treatment, AZT, which is actually turning out to harm patients in the short term, as well as FDA officers, who throw every roadblock they can in Woodroof's way.

Much has been made about McConaughey's drastic weight loss for this role, and he really looks unrecognizable at times, resembling the gaunt Christian Bale in The Machinist. But while his appearance is an initial shock, he so fully pulls you into his performance that you only notice his appearance as his battle to survive intensifies. His character is an unappealing one, but his transformation doesn't seem forced, but more borne from the transformation that necessity has forced upon him, much like Denzel Washington's character in Philadelphia.

Leto, too, underwent a drastic transformation in his appearance, and his performance is probably the best of his career, definitely the strongest since Requiem for a Dream. It's a shame that his acting career has often played second fiddle to his music and his odd off-screen behavior, because he definitely has a tremendous amount of talent. While Garner has a few strong moments as Woodroof's doctor, torn between the hospital bureaucracy she knows she must follow, and her desire to do the right thing for her patients, this movie belongs to McConaughey and Leto.

While Dallas Buyers Club follows the predictable path you'd expect it to, and it feels a little slow at times, its emotional power is still strong and affecting. While McConaughey was overlooked last year for an Oscar nomination, I really hope that between this performance and his already-heralded supporting role in Martin Scorsese's The Wolf of Wall Street (to be released later this year), he won't be left off the nominations list this year. And I'd love to see Leto's name as one in contention as well.

Not a happy movie, but one definitely worth seeing.

Cool cover song of the week...

There was a time in the mid-2000s that you couldn't escape hearing Gnarls Barkley's Crazy on the radio. Between the frequent refrain of "Does that make me crazy" and Cee-Lo Green's soaring falsetto, the song was a huge hit, reaching #2 on the Billboard Hot 100, and topping the charts in countries including the United Kingdom, Denmark, Canada, Ireland, and New Zealand. Rolling Stone named the song the best song of 2006 (as well as the #1 song on its list of the 100 top songs of the decade), and it won a Grammy Award for Best Urban/Alternative Performance in 2007.

I first heard of Ray Lamontagne when I worked at Barnes & Noble in 2004-2005 while personal cheffing. Lamontagne's soulful growl, in full effect on his debut CD Trouble, was heard quite often at the bookstore, as it was a CD in heavy rotation for a while. (I was lucky enough to be able to get my hands on the preview CD once it left the store's rotation, and played the heck out of it for some time.) His rendition of Crazy brings his full vocal arsenal to bear, bringing something completely different to the song. And as much as I love the original, I'm a big fan of Lamontagne's version.

Here's Ray Lamontagne's rendition:

Here's Violent Femmes' cover version, repaying Gnarls Barkley for their cover of Gone Daddy Gone:

And here's the original:

Check out my previous Cool Cover Songs of the Week:

Borderline by The Counting Crows

How Deep Is Your Love by The Bird and The Bee

Life in a Northern Town by Sugarland, Little Big Town, and Jake Owen

I Don't Want to Talk About It by The Indigo Girls

Only You by Joshua Radin

Pure Imagination by Maroon 5

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Blake Stratton

What a Fool Believes by Neri Per Caso

Poker Face by Daughtry

Back to Black by Ronnie Spector

I Will Survive by Cake

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by The Stereophonics

Rolling in the Deep by John Legend

Go Your Own Way by Lissie

Winner Takes it All by McFly

What a Wonderful World by Joey Ramone

Careless Whisper by Seether

I Walk the Line by Live

Dear Prudence by Siouxsie and The Banshees

Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm

Who Wants to Live Forever by Breaking Benjamin

Redemption Song by Chris Cornell and Audioslave

Love Me Tender by Chris Isaak and Brandi Carlile

All You Need is Love by The Flaming Lips

Lovesong by Adele

I Love It by Robin Thicke

Billie Jean by The Civil Wars

Across the Universe by The Scorpions

Can't Hold Us by Pentatonix

Wicked Game by James Vincent McMorrow

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) by The Postal Service

Jolene by The White Stripes

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by Justin Timberlake

More Than This by Norah Jones

Royals by Mayer Hawthorne

I Can't Go for That (No Can Do) by The Bird and The Bee

Ain't No Sunshine by Silent Rider

Book Review: "The Realm of Last Chances" by Steve Yarbrough

Some books wow you with suspense, incendiary violence or action, or tales of magic and fantasy. Some books pack the same power in a much quieter way, nearly sneaking up on you, until you realize they've knocked you for a loop, whether because of the beauty of the language used, the characters, or the authors' storytelling ability. Steve Yarbrough's latest novel, The Realm of Last Chances, definitely falls into the latter category, but that doesn't change the fact that it hooked me completely and really moved me.

Cal and Kristin Stevens are forced to leave their longtime California home and move across the country, after Kristin loses her job as a university administrator and finds a position at a lesser state school in Massachusetts. The move takes a toll on both of them in more ways than simply having to acclimate themselves to cold weather and more outgoing people. Both in their early fifties, they live quiet but mostly separate lives—Kristin finds herself embroiled in the day-to-day political issues of her job, while Cal, whose taciturn manner belies deep-rooted regret and anger, spends his days restoring their home and playing guitar and mandolin, which he excels at but really only enjoys when he is alone.

"The notes not played, he always believed, were at least as important as the ones you did play, and the same was true with words: some things didn't need to be said, but sometimes she couldn't stop saying them."

Matt Drinnan, an aspiring author forced to start his life over after some mistakes completely derailed his job and his marriage, spends his days trying to fill the emptiness, while dealing with the fact that his ex-wife is involved in a new long-term relationship with another man in his hometown. Filled with regret and what-ifs, he attempts to figure out what is next for him.

As Matt and Kristin move toward each other, they are first simply grateful for the opportunity to speak honestly and openly, to finally find a friend and confidante. But as their relationship intensifies, they find themselves stepping into territory that has many potentially negative consequences for both of them, professionally and personally, as well as Cal. And as Kristin deals with a brewing scandal at work and Cal confronts his reactions following an incident of violence, all three must take stock of what the future holds.

I'd only read Yarbrough's short stories before, but I understand that the majority of his novels take place in the South, and The Realm of Last Chances is a departure for him, as it takes place in New England. But while the weather and the culture shock that Cal and Kristin experience in their move play a factor in the book, the story is so moving and so well-told, it could take place anywhere. These aren't easy characters to love—each has secrets they keep from others, and they often choose not to say the things so in need of being said.

Yarbrough is a fantastic writer. His language and dialogue are so poetic, and although I had suspicions about how the plot would resolve itself, I still wanted to read to the very last word, and was said when I was finished. I'm definitely going to read his earlier books, but trust me—this one is a winner.

Book Review: "The Goldfinch" by Donna Tartt

Whoa. This was a big book in every sense of the word—big in size (nearly 800 pages), big in adventure and characterization, and big in ideas—about life, love, art, and destiny. While it times it moved a bit slower than I would have liked, it felt smaller (in a good way) and much more accessible than many novels of this size do.

Thirteen-year-old Theo Decker had his life change instantly when he survived an accident that killed his mother. With his father's whereabouts unknown and no other family to be found, Theo moves into the palatial Park Avenue apartment home of a distant friend. As he navigates the interesting dynamics of this family, and tries to deal with his overwhelming grief, the one thing he has that makes him continue to feel connected to his mother is her favorite painting, a small, affecting painting by a lesser-known Dutch master.

"But sometimes, unexpectedly, grief pounded over me in waves that left me gasping; and when the waves washed back, I found myself looking out over a brackish wreck so illumined in a light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but dead."

In addition to his friend, Andy, Theo's closest companions during his time in New York are antiques expert James "Hobie" Hobart, who takes him under his wing and teaches Theo everything he knows about furniture restoration and the appreciation of antiques, and Pippa, a young girl with whom Theo has a powerful and tragic connection. And when Theo's father shows up in New York and moves him to Las Vegas to live with him and his cocktail waitress girlfriend, Xandra, Theo's life changes again.

While in Las Vegas, Theo befriends Boris, a troubled underachiever with a passion for money and drugs. Their friendship is intense, and Boris' influence changes Theo in many ways. Both see the other as a refuge from the chaos of their own lives, and as Theo realizes that his father's life isn't as perfect as he's made it seem, Boris helps him cope—mostly with the help of illegal substances.

The Goldfinch follows Theo's life into adulthood, with his return to New York, and finding himself constantly facing challenges. He is never truly far away from his grief over his mother's death, or his obsession with the painting, which leads him into the art underworld.

"Caring too much for objects can destroy you. Only—if you care for a thing enough, it takes on a life of its own, doesn't it? And isn't the whole point of things—beautiful things—that they connect you to some larger beauty?"

Even though his character was tremendously flawed, I loved Theo and was completely immersed in his story. I also found Hobie and Pippa's characters tremendously fascinating, and developed a warmth for the Barbour family as well. Sadly, I wasn't as enamored with Boris' character—I felt that every time he spoke in the book, he spoke for far too long, and Donna Tartt's portrayal of his accent made much of what he said a little hard to follow. I found myself imagining what it might be like to get to know Hobie and Pippa, that's how fascinating I found them.

This book tackles some important questions about art and beauty, loss and living up to one's destiny. But beyond that it is about how powerful an anchor grief and guilt can be, and how dramatically the two can change the outcome of one's life. Donna Tartt—author of one of my most favorite books, The Secret History—is a wonderfully enigmatic and captivating storyteller, but I felt as if she crammed a little too much into this book. I honestly could have done without the whole art underworld thread of the plot, and I don't believe it would have affected the book.

You may think to yourself, almost 800 pages? Is it worth it? Will I be able to get into the story? I'd say unequivocally, yes, to both of those questions. While not a perfect book, The Goldfinch is one that will leave you thinking long after you've finished it.

Fred Flintstone, they're coming for you again next...

It's November 1, which means the holiday season will soon be upon us. And with that, comes society's need for increasing politically correctedness, which inevitably winds up upsetting more people than it soothes.

By now, you've probably seen or heard about Hallmark's decision to change the text on its "Deck the Halls" ornament from "Don we now our gay apparel" (the lyrics of the Christmas carol) to "Don we now our fun apparel." Because, you know, the word "gay" has multiple meanings, and Hallmark didn't want the ornament to get misconstrued.

Look, I know there are still lots of people out there who have a problem with the existence of gay people. Heck, the Tennessee state legislature has tried numerous times to pass a law that prohibits schools from even mentioning the word "gay." But honestly, where this Christmas carol is concerned, who out there other than Beavis and Butthead and perhaps others of that same maturity level really think "homosexual" when they're singing Deck the Halls?

Hallmark's original rationale for the name change was as follows: "When the lyrics to 'Deck the Halls' were translated from Gaelic and published in English back in the 1800s, the word 'gay' meant festive or merry," Kristi Ernsting told The Huffington Post in an email. "Today it has multiple meanings ... the trend of wearing festively decorated Christmas sweaters to parties is all about fun, and this ornament is intended to play into that, so the planning team decided to say what we meant: 'fun.'" She added: "That’s the spirit we intended and the spirit in which we hope ornament buyers will take it."

Thankfully, public reaction to this decision has been mostly negative against Hallmark, much to their surprise. The company updated its statement Thursday, saying it was surprised by the public's response and that it now realized it shouldn't have changed the lyrics.

"We've been surprised at the wide range of reactions expressed about the change of lyrics on this ornament, and we're sorry to have caused so much concern," the statement read. "We never intend to offend or make political statements with our products and in hindsight, we realize we shouldn't have changed the lyrics on the ornament."

That being said, they're still selling the ornament.

It reminds me of the time when the lyrics to The Flintstones was changed from "We'll have a gay old time" to "We'll have a great old time," when the cartoon was updated a bit to include the Shmoo. Come on, people.

But then again, it's the holidays. Everyone is always aggravated about something.

Cool cover song of the week...

While it's difficult to truly assemble a list of my favorite songs given how long I've been a music fan, one song that continually comes to mind when I think about tackling that task is Bill Withers' Ain't No Sunshine. First of all, Withers' voice is so resonant and rich (on this and so many of his other songs), and this song in particular is plaintive and mournful, yet I don't find it depressing in any way. It's just such a beautiful song.

Amazingly, Ain't No Sunshine was originally released by Withers as the B-side to another single called Harlem (remember B-sides?), yet disc jockeys played Ain't No Sunshine instead. In September 1971, it reached #3 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #6 on the U.S. R&B charts. Rolling Stone ranked the song as #285 on its list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.

I stumbled on this cover version of Ain't No Sunshine by a band called Silent Rider, and I can't get it out of my head. It's totally different from Withers' version and some purists may totally loathe it, but I think it's pretty cool and ethereal sounding.

Here's Silent Rider's version:

Here's a version by American Idol's Season 8 winner, Kris Allen:

And here's the master, Mr. Withers himself:

Check out my previous Cool Cover Songs of the Week:

Borderline by The Counting Crows

How Deep Is Your Love by The Bird and The Bee

Life in a Northern Town by Sugarland, Little Big Town, and Jake Owen

I Don't Want to Talk About It by The Indigo Girls

Only You by Joshua Radin

Pure Imagination by Maroon 5

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Blake Stratton

What a Fool Believes by Neri Per Caso

Poker Face by Daughtry

Back to Black by Ronnie Spector

I Will Survive by Cake

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by The Stereophonics

Rolling in the Deep by John Legend

Go Your Own Way by Lissie

Winner Takes it All by McFly

What a Wonderful World by Joey Ramone

Careless Whisper by Seether

I Walk the Line by Live

Dear Prudence by Siouxsie and The Banshees

Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm

Who Wants to Live Forever by Breaking Benjamin

Redemption Song by Chris Cornell and Audioslave

Love Me Tender by Chris Isaak and Brandi Carlile

All You Need is Love by The Flaming Lips

Lovesong by Adele

I Love It by Robin Thicke

Billie Jean by The Civil Wars

Across the Universe by The Scorpions

Can't Hold Us by Pentatonix

Wicked Game by James Vincent McMorrow

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) by The Postal Service

Jolene by The White Stripes

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by Justin Timberlake

More Than This by Norah Jones

Royals by Mayer Hawthorne

I Can't Go for That (No Can Do) by The Bird and The Bee