Weekly Wilson - Blog of Author Connie C. Wilson - Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!

Oppenheimer, c. 1944

Roughly one-half of the movie “Oppenheimer” focuses on the unjust way Robert J. Oppenheimer, the father of the atomic bomb, was persecuted after he performed so spectacularly in heading up Los Alamos and giving the United States the atomic bomb to end World War II in Japan. Oppenheimer was denied a security clearance during kangaroo court hearings in 1954, which basically meant he could no longer work in his field. He continued to lecture, but he was ruined.

Director Christopher Nolan has made one of the—if not THE—most important film in a very important career. This $100 million depiction of how the United States came to create the atomic bomb at Los Alamos is a dense subject. The movie was based on the 2006 Pulitzer Prize winning book “American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer” by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin (2005). Prometheus, of course, was the god who gave fire to mankind. For his crime he was chained to a rock and a vulture ate his liver each day, which grew back each night.

There are so many characters in the book and it appears that Nolan has attempted to wrap his creative mind around all of them and present every character onscreen. I applaud him for taking the dense text and transforming it into this three-hour epic film. The “L.A. Times” critic said: “Arguably Nolan’s most impressive work yet in the way it combines his acknowledged visual mastery with one of the deepest character dives in recent American cinema.”

At three hours, it’s a long film.

It’s deep, all right.

I felt fairly dense myself after trying to follow all of the twists and turns in the plot. I was especially ill-prepared when it comes to quantum physics, having dropped out of Physics in high school after two days. (That act was almost a replay of “Peggy Sue Got Married” where Kathleen Turner gets up from an algebra test and announces that she happens to know that she will never need this stuff in the future.)

VISUALLY

The movie, shot on 70 mm film, has stunning imagery, especially in the early parts. (Later sections that deal with the security clearance hearings in offices are more black-and-white). I was immediately reminded of the sweeping panoramas of filmmakers like Terrence Malick (“Days of Heaven,” “Tree of Life”), or David Lean (“Dr. Zhivago”), or Stanley Kubrick (“2001: A Space Odyssey”). No less a movie maven than author David Morrell commented on the different color palettes employed throughout the film.

The movie does not show the actual dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which killed 220,000 people, but, instead, gives us the test explosion in New Mexico, called Trinity. Cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema deserves Oscar nominations for his work. I disagree with the critic who said you didn’t need to see this one on the IMAX big screen. If ever there was an argument for IMAX, a film like this is it. (Last one I shelled out for IMAX treatment was the remake of “West Side Story.”)

If I may wander from the actual film’s words for a moment, supposedly Oppenheimer’s brother, Frank, also a nuclear physicist (who was also hounded from the field) said that his brother’s words after the test were, “I guess it works.” That is not in the film. But the lines that do appear, with Matt Damon and others articulating them, describe the after-effects of the Trinity test blast. Says a witness to the Trinity blast, “I hope you learned something.” To which Matt Damon’s character responds, “We learned we’re going to need to be lots further away!”

That’s about as close to humor as this film will get.

CAST

Cillian Murphy, who visually resembles Oppenheimer (and was actually up for the lead role in a previous Oppenheimer treatment), has worked with Nolan on 6 films. He uses his preternaturally large blue eyes to good advantage in portraying this tortured genius. Murphy supposedly subsisted on a diet of fruits, nuts and figs and very little else to keep the elfin stature of the real man intact throughout filming. In real life, Oppenheimer was said to often forget to eat, so that seems apropos.

The number of Oscar-winning or nominated actors in the film is a tribute to the director’s stature. I will probably accidentally omit someone, but Robert Downey, Jr., is bound to be an Oscar nominee for his pivotal role as Lewis Strauss, the two-faced politician who set Oppenheimer up for ruin because of personal animus and Cillian Murphy comes into his own as a leading man.

Others in the cast include Josh Hartnett in a welcome return to form, Gary Oldman, Kenneth Branagh, Tom Conti (who plays Einstein), Matthew Modine, Alden Ehrenreich, Casey Affleck, Rami Malek, Emily Blunt, Florence Pugh, Tony Goldwyn, James D’Arcy, Jason Clarke and Matt Damon. I’m sure I’ve forgotten some of the bigger “name” actors or actresses, but the wealth of talent is very deep when you’re casting an Oscar winner like Malek in a small part. All of the actors complimented Nolan, the mastermind. Some critics have mentioned the relatively meager parts for women, as opposed to the meatier male roles. This “it’s a man’s world” depiction is true to the period, however.

Personally, I related to the four-times married Kitty (Emily Blunt), shown at her wit’s end with two squalling toddlers and stuck in the quickly thrown-together town built for the Manhattan Project scientists in Los Alamos. She mentions that there is “no kitchen” upon being shown the house for the first time.

Oppenheimer had his hands full with prima donna scientists who constantly quit or are in conflict, but Kitty was stuck in the house with two extremely colicky kids. Baby Peter is even taken to a friend’s house by his father when his constant crying becomes too much for the couple. Younger daughter Katherine (“Toni”), who was born at Los Alamos in November of 1944 is only seen as an infant in the film. She grew up and studied to be a United Nations interpreter but was denied a security clearance because of her father’s fifties security clearance hearings. This was 10 years after Oppenheimer’s 1967 death from throat cancer. In 1977, after that denial, Toni—who had inherited the St. Thomas cottage where her parents lived in later life, hanged herself. She left the family cottage and grounds to St. Thomas for the use of the public.

PERSONAL LIVES

Oppenheimer was a World Class womanizer. Matt Damon has an exchange with Oppenheimer where he says, “You’re a dilettante, you’re a womanizer, unstable, theatrical, neurotic!” Oppenheimer’s affair with Florence Pugh (virtually unrecognizable with dark hair) portraying paramour Jean Tatlock causes much conflict in the film. The couple see each other shortly after Oppenheimer’s second child is born.

A troubled soul who ultimately committed suicide, Jean Tatlock WAS a Communist. This bit of personal information on Oppenheimer’s affair was brought out during the 1954 kangaroo court hearings with Oppenheimer’s wife Kitty (Emily Blunt) sitting there to hear it, as Oppenheimer is interrogated by Jason Clarke (“Pet Semetary”). Still, Kitty and J. Robert stayed together.

Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey, Jr.) pretended, to Oppenheimer’s face, to be a friend. He was as two-faced as they come and set Oppenheimer up for his fall, out of vindictive animus. Strauss (who was angling to become the Secretary of Commerce) felt he had been held up to ridicule during testimony that Oppenheimer gave. One dispute was over the exporting of radioactive isotopes to Sweden. The testimony used in the screenplay showed Oppenheimer saying that radioactive isotopes were “less important than electronic devices, but more important than, let us say, vitamins.” In the screenplay the comparison became “a bottle of beer.”

Another change from reported wording seemed to be in what President Truman (portrayed by Gary Oldman) actually said after meeting with Oppenheimer in the Oval Office. In the movie, Oppenheimer tells Truman that he feels he has “blood on his hands.” This is because of how conflicted Oppenheimer is regarding the death of 220,000 Japanese civilians when the bomb was dropped. Oppenheimer is urging (somewhat naively) international cooperation on the use of nuclear weapons, with an entity like the United Nations in charge. The generals and the Army and the politicians do not see it his way.

Truman, during a visit with Oppenheimer in the Oval Office, hands him a handkerchief after his comment about regulating nuclear weapons internationally and then, when Oppenheimer walks out of the Oval Office, tells his Undersecretary of State, Dean Acheson, “I don’t want to see that son-of-a-bitch in this office ever again.” In the movie, the script has Truman saying, “Don’t let that crybaby back in here.” The profanity is probably more accurate, because Truman was known for his salty language. (They didn’t call him “give-’em- hell-Harry” for nothing.)

MORAL VACILLATION

Oppenheimer vacillated over his feelings of guilt over the deaths in Hiroshima and Nagasaki from the dropping of the bomb he created.

After the successful drop. The screenplay has him telling a jubilant room full of Los Alamos employees, “It’s too soon to determine the results of the bombing, but I’ll bet the Japanese didn’t like it. I just wish we had had it to use against the Germans.”

At another point in the plot, this line appears, “Nobody knows what you believe. Do you?”

Repeated throughout the piece, however, is this refrain: “Just because we’re building it doesn’t mean that we get to decide how it is used.”

Matt Damon’s character, General Leslie Groves, tells Oppenheimer, “We’ve given them an Ace. It’s for them to play the hands.” Another repetition of this thought: “The fact that we built this bomb does not give us the right or responsibility to determine how it is used.” All of these lines seemed to be justifications. After all, Oppenheimer was the American Prometheus, “the man who gave the Americans the ability to destroy themselves.” As Nolan says at another point in the screenplay which he wrote, “The day will come when people will curse the name Los Alamos.”

MUSIC

Leslie Goranssen’s music has been singled out as one of the best scores of the year (Oscar?.) Terms like “masterful” and “mercurial” were used. I kept noticing how many of the scenes that had subtle background music would be totally unremarkable without his musical contribution. The use of stamping feet was unique and original.

OVERALL

For tension, structure, sense of scale, startling sound design (very impressive when viewed in IMAX) and remarkable visuals—not to mention the superb cast of actors—this one is going to be hard to beat. Yes, it is overlong and dense and made me feel woefully inadequate to understand the quantum physics discussed, but phrases like “Power exists in the shadows” were universal and I had to agree with the remark attributed to Wernher von Braun, who said, of Oppenheimer’s poor treatment by Lewis Strauss and the bureaucracy, “In England, Oppenheimer would have been knighted.”

On a personal level, since Wehrner Von Braun of Hitler’s rocket program ultimately ended up in Iowa City, Iowa (my alma mater) for the remainder of his life after fleeing Nazi Germany, I thoroughly agree.

I have personally met and spoken with at least five of the actors/actresses onscreen in “Oppenheimer” at various film festivals, those being Gary Oldman (in Chicago for “Soldier, Sailor, Tinker, Spy” in 2011), Kenneth Branagh (in Chicago with “Belfast” in 2021), Casey Affleck (in Chicago with “Gone, Baby, Gone” in 2007), Emily Blunt, in Austin at SXSW for “A Quiet Place” (2018), and Jason Clarke at SXSW for the remake of “Pet Sematary” (2019).

It seems fitting to end the review of this extraordinary film with the quotation from the Bhagavad Gita that Oppenheimer repeats, “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”

“Barbie” Movie Delivers Way More Than Sparkle at the Box Office

By Connie Wilson

On July 28, 2023

In Local, Movies, News, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Pop Culture, Reviews

I was one of those little girls who was given a baby doll to mother. Barbie dolls did not exist until 1959. By that point, I was entering high school and done with dolls. I do remember when my friend Beverley’s little sister, Bonnie, got her first Barbie doll. We older girls looked at it as though it were from another world. This was nothing like the Kewpie doll or the dolls with big heads that we were to mock feed with bottles. This creature was something else entirely.

I entered college in 1963 and graduated with a degree in English. When I wanted to go to law school, my father, born in 1902, said, “A woman shouldn’t take a man’s job.” While he and my mother thought it was fine if I wanted to go on to graduate school in English, law school was not something they would help me finance.

The only “acceptable” careers for a woman as I headed off to college in the early sixties were secretary, nurse, or teacher. A fourth possibility might be the less professional hairdresser. Yes, Ruth Bader Ginsberg made it through law school, but she had an extremely supportive husband who assisted her. I did not have any support from my family for a career other than the “acceptable” ones mentioned above.

As a result, I went on to get my Master’s (plus 30 hours) in English with a Journalism minor. I taught for 18 years before I took my own money and invested it in an entrepreneurial idea that bore fruit. I ended up establishing and being CEO of two businesses and left the low-paying teaching job I had labored at from 1969 until 1985 behind for good.

I talked my husband into accompanying me to see “Barbie” because another critic (male) whose opinion I respect sang its praises. Since one (of only two) theaters in our Quad City area just closed (and the weather was beastly hot) we ended up having to sit in the very first row of the theater at 5:05 p.m. on a Thursday. We couldn’t sit together—which is just as well, since my spouse went in with a negative attitude and emerged with an even more negative attitude. His remarks after the film ended were all uber critical. (Gee…maybe I should call him “the most negative person I’ve ever met” which he once said to me, for a bit of inaccurate hyperbole). I think he is just the wrong gender to really be able to relate to most of what the film was articulating about the way women have traditionally been treated in our society. You gotta’ be female to really get that. He’s not.

I loved the “Barbie” movie. I hadn’t expected to, but it entertained while really flinging some zingers at society’s treatment of women versus men, historically.

The cast is great. The fashions and music are to-die-for. The script is the best. Only those who, in the face of ample proof, deny that “it’s a man’s world,” or are arch-Conservatives, would hate this clever, well-written movie.

Of course, when a liberal Democrat marries into a Republican conclave, there will be disagreements. This is one of them. Trust me: I’m right on this one. And the Never Trump one, too.

One sure-fire Oscar nominee is probably Billie Eilish’s theme song, with others to come.

SPOILER WARNING

I will be recapping a few of the script’s better lines. Be warned.

What is the plot?

Barbie and Ken journey from Barbieland to “the real world” and—much like films as far back as “Time After Time”—they are strangers in a strange land, trying to adjust to the realities of what is referred to as “the patriarchy.” (My spouse apparently does not believe in the patriarchy, but that’s on him. It exists and has existed since time immemorial.)

Barbie is being visited by thoughts that are totally UN-Barbie-like—thoughts about death and dying, for one thing. Baumbach’s last film “White Noise” (Adam Driver) also involved thoughts about death and dying. Baumbach, who co-wrote the script with his life partner Greta Gerwig (who directed) mines his own life for themes. Many deal with dysfunctional family relationships or divorce, like “Marriage Story” and death is a concern, as it is in the works of Woody Allen.

But “Barbie” is Greta Gerwig’s triumph, because, after all, she’s female. She just had the biggest opening week for a movie directed by a woman in history, a $162 million debut, the biggest of the year.

Noah Baumbach may be more aware of “the patriarchy” (or what we used to call “the Good Old Boys’ network) than most men, but Greta has nailed all the things that women of MY generation were expected to cope with to be a desirable, acceptable female in “the real world.” As one prescient line from the outstanding script says, “Everything exists to expand and elevate the presence of men.”

What things, you might ask disingenuously?

Let me share some of the lines from this film that “nail” the idea that women have, traditionally, been put down and kept down and had to behave in certain ways in order to get by in our society.

“A woman must appear helpless and confused.” Add to that the thought, spoken by Barbie, “I like not having to make any decisions.”

“ Power (on the part of a female) must be masked under a giggle.”

“A woman must pretend to be terrible at every single sport ever.”

“Either you’re brainwashed or you’re weird and ugly. There is no in-between.”

“Every night is boys’ night.”

“I’m not good enough for anything.”

Some of these “truths” are now changing, and all are being challenged, but, remember: this is the world I grew up in, not the one my granddaughters are growing up in.

There is a terrific monologue (by America Ferrera) that articulated the “required” things for females in America. That one scene, alone, is worth the price of admission, describing, as it does, the tightrope that women in America have to navigate.

“Everything is your fault.”

“We must tie ourselves into knots so that people will like us.”

“We must reject men’s advances without rejecting them.

“It’s best if you don’t think about it too much. Don’t overthink it.”

Barbies, says the film, represent sexualized capitalism. The rise of the Barbie doll “set the feminist movement back fifty years.” The term “Fascist” is thrown around, even though Barbie immediately says that she doesn’t have anything to do with railways or the flow of commerce.

At one point, a male character says, “I’m a man with no power. Does that make me a woman?” (I laughed out loud at that one.)

Greta Gerwig is one clever writer. If you didn’t laugh at “Lady Bird” you probably need a humor transplant. “Lady Bird” also had the ability to encapsulate the mother/daughter relationship so perfectly; mothers and daughters everywhere could relate.

With “Barbie,” females of any age will be able to relate. Men? Not so much.

THE CLOTHES

Another Big Plus for me—a child of the sixties—were the outfits that the gorgeous Margot Robbie and the handsome Ryan Gosling wear. I loved the blue dress with the white collar and cuffs, although it was very short—even shorter than the mini skirt years I wore in my prime. Loved, loved, loved the green and pink outfit with the matching hat. Ken’s outfits didn’t make him appear as attractive as Barbie’s, although, as the script says, “He’s one nice-looking piece of plastic.”

THE CAST

When you’ve got Ryan Gosling willing to take a career risk like this, you’re on a roll. There was a really interesting interview with Greta Gerwig in the “New York Times” where she described how she called Gosling up and convinced him to be her Ken. Will Ferrell portrays the CEO of Mattel and his encounters with the discontinued Pregnant Midge Barbie and the Proust Barbie ( Rhea Perlman plays the part of the creator of Barbie, Ruth Handler.

THE MUSIC

Lots of good music, but listen for the closing theme by Billie Eilish, “What Was I Made For?” Potential Oscar nominee.

THE SCRIPT

Terrific! And another move forward for the talented Greta Gerwig after her debut with “Lady Bird.” She and partner Noah Baumbach have made an important movie. I would not have dreamed that this movie would deliver as it has, but the thoughts are true and the truth will out.

A line that resonated with me—a former proud wearer of an ERA bracelet (look it up)—was this one:

“We mothers stand still so we can see how far our daughters have come.” In the wake of the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision overturning Roe v. Wade, this certainly rang true. And, as the script puts it, “anxiety, panic attacks, and OCD sold separately.”

Three-Day Birthday Extravaganza in Chicago

By Connie Wilson

On July 24, 2023

In Uncategorized

Just returned from a long weekend in Chicago celebrating a birthday and attending various events.

First, there was the Cubs/Cardinals baseball game, covered in a previous entry.

Next, there was a luxurious dinner atop the Hancock Building, in the Signature Room.

The view from the 95^th floor is, of course, spectacular, but this particular night the rain we had just experienced (and, possibly, smoke from fires somewhere?) meant that the view was not as clear as one would have liked.

Still, the food and service were excellent and, even though we went early (5:30 p.m.) we didn’t miss out on any sunsets or fantastic views, because of the weather. It was really odd, because, on television, Wrigley Field as having a rain delay, but where we were in the South Loop it was sunny. Go figure.

After the dinner and dessert, we went home and had a birthday pie (chocolate, of course). We had tried to buy a white cake at the Jewel store, but our choices were a chocolate cake with Elmo on it or one that said, “Happy Sixth Birthday.” I’m not

averse to shaving some time off my age, but that might be pushing it!

On Sunday—which was the real birthday date—we went to see the play based on “Tommy: The Rock Opera.” It was at the Goodman Theater and it was spectacular. The New York Times had raved on about this show, saying, “Why is there nothing like this in New York City?” The innovative use of special effects was truly unique and all of the cast had terrific voices. The entire place was sold out and they received a standing ovation.

Afterwards, we had an early dinner at Petterino’s, which is attached to the Goodman Theater.

I want to thank my close family and friends for the kind birthday greetings. I thoroughly enjoyed the three-day extravaganza.

Granddaughter Ava.

Cubs Win Against Cardinals on July 21, 2023

By Connie Wilson

On July 22, 2023

In Health/Medicine, News, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Science and Medicine, Sports, Texas

We are in Chicago and journeyed to Wrigley Field to watch the Cubs battle the St. Louis Cardinals today (July 21, 2023).

We took an Uber to the game ($40), which was probably in deference to the elder members of the group. (That would definitely be me and my spouse.) When we were going to return, the price was $60 so we took the ell, which turned out to be a free trip when the machine wouldn’t take my son’s credit card. The subway guru told all six of us to go on through.

The party included son Scott and wife Jessica and my twin granddaughters, Ava and Elise, age 14. Among other things, we’re celebrating my birthday on 7/23.

We were originally slated to have a seventh participant, but issues such as removal of a skin cancer and the delivery of plants derailed that idea.

Because we shopped for merchandise on the way into the park the bleachers were filling, but we successfully found a spot in the left field bleachers.

Mind you: I am not a big baseball fan.

When I returned from 3 months in Europe (People-to-People exchange student in 1967) my now husband—who had missed me, [as I had missed him], thought the first thing I would want to do upon my arrival in Chicago would be to attend a double header Cubs baseball game.

It was one of the longest days of my life.

The interesting thing, to me, was that everyone around me was speaking English. I had not experienced that in three months. I told my son not to get me a ticket for today’s game, but my daughter couldn’t join us; I hated to have him waste $80 x 2 for two unused tickets. We all suggested that he sell them, but they were on his phone, which seemed to be a hurdle. (How do you pass off a ticket that is on your phone to another person’s phone? Don’t ask me. I don’t know how to get them onto my phone in the first place.)

The weather was perfect—breezy, warm but not hot, just perfect. Plus, all of us had dressed for the occasion. The Cubs hit two home runs and took an early lead (4 to 1), but nearly blew it in the 8^th and 9^th innings. (And, yes, I made it through the entire 9 innings, and I want that on my record.)

The problem, for me, was that bleachers don’t have a “back” to lean against. I never had back problems until I took Anastrozole for 7 months, post cancer surgery. Or, at least, I didn’t know I had arthritis in my spine or whatever ailment it was that caused truly horrible back aches (and insomnia). The Anastrozole did a real number on my left knee and—out of the blue—my back would hurt so badly (right where you bend at the waist) that I searched through my left-over Oxycontin (root canal left-over) looking for some sort of pain reliever that worked. Unfortunately, you can’t take Oxycontin with a benzodiazepan, so no dice. Nothing ever did work. The other side effects included mood swings, dry skin, teariness, vision problems and vivid violent nightmares. So THAT was fun—(not).

Nothing helped. Ultimately, I had to discontinue taking Anastrozole or any other aromatase inhibitor. My left knee (injured in a biking accident in 1997 and in an Iowa City MOST knee study for 25 years) blew out on 9/15/2022. When I reported that to my Moline oncologist that the combination of old age and a previous knee injury, coupled with Anastrozole, had caused my left knee to quit working while I was simply walking along a Chicago street (“Cancer: the gift that keeps on taking.”) my Moline oncologist denied that there could be any connection between my back pain and/or my knee blowing out and said, in writing through the patient portal, “The only side effect from taking Anastrozole is a little stiffness in your hands, and it goes away when you quit taking it.” And if you believe that, I have a bridge for sale.

All my communication with the oncologist between February 8^th and August 8^th were through the patient portal and what I have come to call his “minions.” He never saw me himself in that 6 months, which has always seemed derelict. Yes, I was scheduled for appointments, but he was never there. The minions—at least 3 different ones—were interchangeably assigned.

I’m not sure the oncologist would have seen me on August 8^th if my surgeon had not called him up and said, “You need to see this patient.” . It is probably a good idea to see your cancer-stricken patient personally more than once every half year. And perhaps it would have been a good idea to have ordered an oncotype for me from the very beginning, since that determines the patient’s treatment path but also will provide some peace-of-mind regarding the possibility of a recurrence in the future. Why wasn’t it ordered? A different doctor in the system suggested, “He doesn’t like to be dinged by Medicare.” Which, if you are the patient, is not very reassuring.

My surgeon on August 7th suggested a Ki67 test, which would have determined the aggressiveness of the tumor and might perhaps given me some peace of mind. I asked the oncologist about it repeatedly through the patient portal. No dice.

And the oncotype, which my Texas oncologist said would have meant three bouts of chemotherapy for me had I been his patient, took 17 months to secure. The “minions” (all female… nurses, Physicians’ Assistants, etc.) were the only individuals who ever met with me from February 8^th until August 8^th and nobody seemed willing to order either an oncotype (considered Standard of Care since 2013) or a Ki-67. In fact, my Illinois oncologist—who had dodged me successfully for half a year—[while I had been asking about the Ki-67 test recommended by my surgeon for, literally, months through the patient portal]— said, “I won’t order that for you; you’ll have to get somebody else.”

So, I did. And I’d recommend to other future Unity Point (Moline, Illinois) patients that they remember that today’s mantra for medical care seems to be YOYO (“You’re On Your Own”). I certainly felt that way as I asked, time and time again, about ordering a Ki-67 and, time and time again, I was told by the minions, “That is a question you should take up with the doctor at your next appointment.”

Except that it didn’t seem very likely that I’d ever see the oncologist, in person, again.

And the minions did not listen well to anything you might share with them, such as the fact that I would not be in the Midwest for the April 6^th appointment they claimed I had made (when they called me in Texas to “remind” me of the non-appointment.) What about “I won’t be back in the Midwest until at least May is difficult to understand? And why did it take until May to do a bone scan, when I began taking Anastrozole in February? And why did Medicare deny the claim for that bone scan for literally months, when I had not had one since 2019? Someone should have taken a look at my weakening bones (osteopaenia verging on osteoporosis) before my previously injured left knee quit on September 15, 2023.

There is an entire study of medicine (AIMSS, since the sixties) devoted to aromatase inhibitor drugs and their effect on bones and muscles (especially if the joint has been damaged previously.) My oncologist—-finally learning of all of my side effects over half a year in— said, “Don’t take it then.” Then he walked out, leaving me to try to figure out what the next logical step should be for prevention of a recurrence of breast cancer (the purpose of Anastrozole.)

Since I was never ordered an oncotype when I began bringing it up (Dec.. 2021), and an oncotype is normally a guide to treatment as well as a guide to the probability of a recurrence, I had no idea how likely I was to have to go through another surgery. I likened my feelings of being totally and completely at sea to a small child standing at the edge of a frozen lake, wondering if the ice is thick enough to hold. An oncotype of my tumor might have yielded that kind of information, but I was simply told, “You don’t need one” and I tried very hard to be a good compliant patient for a very long (too long) time.

Was my tumor that small and insignificant? It was 11 mm. Why did I “not need one” when I only found one other woman (out of 60,000 on WebMD), who didn’t get one? Beats the heck out of me, but I will say that it took until March of 2023 (from my initial query at the very first appointment in December of 2021) to finally get an oncotype from a different doctor in a different state, who was not overly impressed with what I wrote down and presented to both the Texas doctor and the Iowa City doctor. (The Iowa City oncologist said, “Why do you think most of the Quad City patients come here?” Why, indeed.)

I asked for referrals to “good Quad City oncologists who listen to you” in Iowa City —citing remarks made to me (and others) like, “Last time I saw you, if you had had a gun, I think you would have shot me” and “After talking to you three girls (former employees of mine whose mother was a patient), I need therapy.” If those strike you as unprofessional remarks, no kidding.

To hear how Diana (my employees’ mother) begged her oncologist (also my oncologist) to run a test to see if her cancer had spread and to hear how he would not do it was upsetting. Her breast cancer, which had recurred after many years, spread to her pancreas and killed her. But when her daughters attempted to take her to the Mayo Clinic her oncologist said, “I interned there. I know everything they know.” O……K……

After 17 months, a Texas oncologist finally secured the oncotype I inquired about in December of 2021, which my Moline oncologist simply dismissed, saying, “You don’t need one.” Not only that, the Texas oncologist spent 2 hours of his time meeting with me, after hours, when everyone had gone home. (He was working late after hours because there had been an ice storm and all of his week’s appointments had to be canceled and then re-scheduled.)

The Texas doctor vowed to get me the test I asked about, which normally would have been done in January of 2022 after the 1/27/2022 surgery. It showed that my % of recurrence, according to the oncotype, would be 18% if I took Tamoxifen and 36% if I did not take this drug . The score of 29 was not a good one; 25 was the cut-off for chemotherapy/ I flunked an ultra sound test on 1/25/2023 at my one-year anniversary, and had to have a diagnostic mammogram on Valentine’s Day, during which I learned for the very first time that there was calcification on the left side as well as the (bad) right side. I had never been told that previously about the left breast and the thought that flashed through my mind was that it had taken 3 years for the calcification on the right to become a tumor and I’m coming up on 3 years of calcification on the left soon.

I suffered through a stereotactic biopsy in 2018 at Trinity (with no warning that needles were the order of the day, but a letter reaching me 3 days after the 2018 test telling me that I should “consult with your physician about your next step.”) A bit late for that. I cannot recall ever being given a “heads up” about the left-side calcification until the 2/14/2023 diagnostic mammogram.

Therefore, I have agreed with my Texas oncologist that taking one of the drugs that are considered adjuvant therapy (mentioned below) is in my best interests. However, the prevailing opinion is that I am one of the women who absolutely cannot tolerate aromatase inhibitors. (Clinical trials are underway in St. Louis at Washington University to determine who can benefit from them and who might become suicidal if taking them, which has happened.)

I am between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Iowa City seems to think that, “If it recurs, you just come back and we do it all over again.” (actual quote). My Texas oncologist said, “I’m not worried about it coming back on the contralateral side. I’m worried about it going some place else.”

My Moline oncologist never suggested taking any other medication after my 7 months on Anastrozole. He got up and left the room when I tried to share the symptoms I had experienced, saying, “Don’t take it then.” I thought we would discuss alternatives, but that didn’t happen.

I had to be wheeled in a wheelchair to my first post-surgical mammogram on October 3rd, because of my knee blowing out in Chicago on September 15th. I spent 6 months hobbling with a cane or using a wheelchair before my knee recovered from the inflammation caused by Anastrozole. Injections at a knee joint pain clinic in Oak Park (32 ml of an anti-inflammatory; 6 ml of Durolane) helped (on 9/21/2022), and four sets of orthopaedic surgeons in 3 states have weighed in. Tramadol (50 mg) was prescribed for pain. The precise cause has never been pinned down because I didn’t have an MRI. I would put hard cold cash that the Anastrozole was one of the reasons my knee gave up the ghost. My Moline oncologist—who is on record as saying the ONLY side effect is “a little stiffness in your hands”—would disagree. If he physically showed up in front of the 60,000 WebMD women, they would probably stone him.

My Texas oncologist said that, had I been his patient at the outset, I would have had three bouts of chemotherapy. That ship has sailed. It had been nine months of cold turkey no drugs at all before I flunked the ultra sound and was told “get thee to an oncologist ASAP.” I wrote all of this down in detail and gave a copy to both of my current doctors. I heard the Texas doctor discussing it with a female breast specialist in the hall. They were appalled. (They didn’t know I could overhear their remarks because the door was ajar.)

Now I am taking a different drug (Tamoxifen). It’s been around since the sixties and can give you blood clots that cause heart attacks and strokes and endometrial cancer. Not fun prospects. And yet the other survivors on WebMD describe many, many horrible side effects for every single one of the drugs (either blockers or drugs designed to stomp out estrogen in your body) we are told to take. It is difficult to understand why this wealth of 60,000 survivors is not being more fully utilized to let doctors who seem to be in denial into the information loop about what really happens to many female survivors on these drugs.

I’m not sure if Tamoxifen is implicated in the back pain at the ball game, or if it is simply old age and arthritis, but the over two hour baseball game, (which I went to in order to use my daughter’s ticket), will probably be the last time I sit on bleachers at a Cubs game. I am so happy that my son and family came to Chicago to cheer me on on my birthday. I’m so I’m glad it was a Cubs win. I’m happy I made it through the day and I hope I was a good sport. (I tried).

Meanwhile, if you are a cancer patient in the Quad Cities, take note:: YOYO.

Cruising on the Celebration Belle Riverboat on July 16, 2023

By Connie Wilson

On July 16, 2023

In Local, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, travel

We went out on the Mississippi River on the Celebration Belle Riverboat tonight, with old friends (and my husband’s classmates) Bob and Judy DeJonghe and Bob and Marvis Hafner.

I had not been out on one of these riverboat dinner cruises for at least 25 years. The last time we went out and floated up and down the river we took my parents; my father has been dead since 1985. I remembered it as being boring when we went with my parents, because we had some questionable weather and couldn’t go outside.

When organizer Robert DeJonghe asked if we were interested in going, I thought it was just because of the dinner (and the view, of course), which was said to be good (something like $106 a couple—although I could be wrong).

It is true that it is my birthday on 7/23 and that date is also Bob and Judy’s wedding anniversary back in 1966, but I didn’t realize that Bob DeJonghe had ordered a cake and was plotting a celebration of our mutual upcoming events. As for the third couple, Bob Hafner just had surgery (laparoscopic) to remove a growth from his kidney and is going to have back surgery on August 3rd. Hopefully that will put him back on the links with his two high school buddies, my husband Craig and the organizer, Bob DeJonghe.

We took off from the River Drive pier at 6 p.m., as Bob DeJonghe had picked up our tickets earlier.

I spent a day or so wondering what to wear. Remembering the bad weather that I encountered with my parents decades ago and the fact that the A/C inside can get cool, I settled on a new outfit from the Four Seasons that had a matching light blue sweater. The store, my favorite, had sent me a coupon for my 7/23 birthday to purchase one item at half price, and, when I drove over to select it, learned that they were having a truly great sale of summer items. Since we spend the winter in Texas, summer weight is year-round weight. When I learned that if you bought 2 items that had been marked down twice, you got an additional 40% off the sale saved me $182.33 on my final bill. I’m all set for celebrating this weekend in Chicago with the family gathering from Texas, hitting a Cubs game, a play at the Goodman Theater, and the Signature Room atop the Hancock Building. Can’t wait!

There was an entire bus full of revelers (an African American group) who had driven all the way from Oak Park, Illinois outside Chicago. I had shots in my knee at the arthritis joint pain clinic in Oak Park on September 21, 2022. I can personally attest that it is a LONG way to come for this riverboat dinner cruise.

The church group was spectacularly threaded out. While I was in my new finery, it is definitely casual when compared to the finery that the Oak Brook group had broken out for the occasion. One rather tall gentleman (looked like Nat King Cole), attired all in white, was dancing by himself and was quite striking. (I am now reconsidering my choice of outfits for the birthday dinner on July 22nd in Chicago. Ahem.).

A discussion broke out concerning “our song.” Judy said that “A Summer Place” was their song. I managed to tear a piece of paper off an envelope, write a phonetic pronunciation of “DeYoung”, and give the D.J. a request that he play the song and announce the 57th wedding anniversary of our host couple, Bob and Judy DeJonghe. I have always remembered their anniversary, because it occurred on my birthday, although I did not know Bob and Judy at the time. (My spouse was in the wedding party, as was the other male member of this unholy trio, Bob Hafner).

We spent a fair amount of time on the exterior of the boat, with the sun setting. When we journeyed up the Mississippi River and cruised beneath the new I-74 bridge, it looked like our smoke stack might not make it. We saw the ruin of the old bridge, some parts of which are still standing after the recent implosion of the old bridge.

When the disc jockey announced the 50th anniversary celebration of a member of the church group from Oak Brook, everyone clapped. But 57 got a bigger round of applause (as it should). Wonder of wonders—he had “A Summer Place” and played it as the host couple danced. It was great, although my quick grab of my cell phone (pictures here) could have been better. The crowd applauded and I remember thinking that 57 years is quite an achievement. (We will have to go 2 more years to hit that mark!)

Still, it was a lovely idea to have this “celebration’ and I’d like to thank Bob (DeJonghe) for his efforts in thinking this up and getting all of us, including the just-out-of-the-hospital Bob Hafner, onboard.

We all hobbled around (Hafner discovered the elevator, which was great) a bit, since we all have our health issues.

The only bad part of the night was learning that an old teaching buddy of mine has shuffled off this mortal coil. We were Co-chairmen of the Silvis Education Association during the struggle for recognition of the SEA (which was successful and still endures) and taught together at Silvis Junior High for years. (RIP, Steve).

I smiled as I looked at Bob and Judy climbing ALL of the stairs to board the ship. They scrambled up the side of the ship like small mice.

I was a short hitter in that department, having blown my knee out on September 15, 2022 after 7 months of adjuvant (post cancer surgery) therapy. I think we all did extremely well in making it up to the top deck more than once. It was a lovely summer evening, with good weather, good food, and good friends. A good time was had by all.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, Bob and Judy! And Thanks for a great idea!

The 2024 GOP Presidential Primary Race Is Getting Pricey

By Connie Wilson

On July 11, 2023

In Editorial, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Politics

The 2024 presidential primary race is shaping up to be a pricey one.

According to the GOP Primary Ad Spending reports, Florida’s Governor Ron SeSantis is spending literally twice as much as Donald J. Trump, who is said to be the front-runner in polls.

DeSantis has committed $4.4 million dollars to the primary battle, versus Trump’s $2.2 million.

Other leaders in the race are represented as follows:

Senator Rick Scott: $3.5 million

$3.5 million (PAC group)

Governor Doug Burgum of North Dakota: $2.6 million

Anti-Trump PAC: $1.7 million.

Other candidates to oppose the Democratic candidate in 2024 include Nikki Haley, Asa Hutchinson, Mike Pence, Chris Christie, Vivek Ramaswamey and Miami Mayor Francis Suarez.

Trump is not going to come to the Iowa gathering, probably because the organizer is an outspoken Trump opponent.

In New Hampshire, the spending is as follows:

Governor Doug Burgum of North Dakota: $2.8 million

Trump Super PAC: $2 million

Senator Rick Scott: $2 million

Senator Rick Scott Super PAC: $1.9 million

Florida Governor Rick DeSantis Super Pac: $1.3 million

In South Carolina, the DeSantis Super PAC is spending $3.7 million.

The Anti Trump forces are investing $1.7 million

In Nevada, the DeSantis Super PAC is spending %631,000.

So, as I sit here on the Illinois side of the Iowa/Illinois Quad Cities, it looks like the state of Iowa will rake in big bucks and the primary campaign will cost roughly $20 million dollars.

The entire tactic of doing well in Iowa and using it as a launching pad for the nomination was pioneered by Jimmy Carter in 1974, when he began campaigning ahead of the 1976 presidential race. That was nearly 50 years ago.

In the wake of Watergate, 17 Democratic candidates came out of the woodwork to capitalize on the Ford pardon of Nixon and the stigma of Watergate. Carter took an early lead in Iowa and New Hampshire despite having almost no national profile. He was able to secure the Democratic presidential nomination with close to 40% of his party’s primary vote. Ever since Jimmy Carter pioneered the technique of winning early in Iowa and New Hampshire, it has continued to be the path to victory.

Jennifer Lawrence Is the “Maneater” in “No Hard Feelings”

By Connie Wilson

On July 10, 2023

In Local, Movies, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Pop Culture, Reviews

Maneater

(Hall & Oates)

[Verse 1]
She’ll only come out at night
The lean and hungry type
Nothing is new
I’ve seen her here before
Watching and waiting
Ooh, she’s sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door
So many have paid to see what you think you’re getting for free
The woman is wild, a she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar
Money’s the matter
If you’re in it for love, you ain’t gonna get too far

[Chorus]
(Oh-oh, here she comes)
Watch out, boy, she’ll chew you up
(Oh-oh, here she comes)
She’s a maneater
(Oh-oh, here she comes)
Watch out, boy, she’ll chew you up
(Oh-oh, here she comes)
She’s a maneater

[Verse 2]
I wouldn’t if I were you
I know what she can do
She’s deadly, man
She could really rip your world apart
Mind over matter
Ooh, the beauty is there but a beast is in the heart

It’s important for me to start this review of “No Hard Feelings,” the newest Jennifer Lawrence film, with the lyrics of the 1982 Hall & Oates hit “Maneater.” The lyrics sum up the character of the film’s female lead, Jennifer Lawrence, as Maddie Barker.

Maddie Barker is a native of Montauk, a watering hole for the rich and famous. Maddie, raised by a single Mom, is resentful of many things in her life. She is angry at the influx of the myriad well-to-do tourists in the summer season and just as angry that her own biological father—who was himself a married summer visitor—impregnated her mother and then left town, taking no responsibility for the daughter left behind. He paid her Mom off with the house they live in. A letter sent to her father years later was returned without comment. It is safe to say that Maddie’s relationship with men, in general, is summed up by the “Maneater” lyrics.

Jennifer Lawrence last appeared in “Causeway,” a grim portrait of a woman haunted by PTSD. This lightweight comedy was such an improvement. I hope she continues to, as one reviewer put it, “fly her freak flag,” because she does it so well and it is such a joy to see ANY recent release that isn’t a Marvel spin-off or a horror movie.

“No Hard Feelings” is the sweet story of a young woman Uber driver and part-time bartender trying to save her Montauk home, inherited from her recently deceased mother, which is in danger of being taken over for back taxes. She is hired by the wealthy parents of Percy Becker to try to socialize a very nerdy young man who is about to leave for his freshman year at Princeton at the end of the summer. Her payment will be a car to replace the car that is being towed by an ex-boyfriend in some early hilarious scenes.

Naming the 2 main characters “Becker” and “Barker” might not have been the strongest plot point. The side character that Kyle Mooney plays (“SNL”) seems completely extraneous and, to a certain extent, so is the character of the tow truck driver, Gary, played by Ebon Moss-Bachrach. That role reminded me of one that would fit Chris O’Dowd. But most of this movie is sheer pleasure, from start to finish, thanks to clever writing and excellent acting.

The nerdy young man is well-played by Andrew Barth Feldman (“Dear Evan Hansen” on Broadway during his high school years.) Feldman does a great job of holding his own opposite Lawrence as Maddie. His helicopter parents have hired Maddie Barker to bring their son Percy Becker out of his shell. His father, Laird Becker, is portrayed by Matthew Broderick, looking grayer and paunchier. Mom Allison is played by Laura Benanti. The couple promises Maddie a secondhand Buick if she will escort son Percy around town and introduce him to the ways of the world, socially and, potentially, sexually.

Gene Stupnitsky is the director and co-writer with John Phillips. Stupnitsky is known, previously, for “The Office” (2005) and “Bad Teacher” (2011). With its $31 million opening, “No Hard Feelings” becomes the highest-grossing R-rated comedy since Stupnitsky directed “Good Boys” in 2019. The film has surpassed $50 million worldwide, on a slim budget of $45 million.

The movie has raunchy dialogue, as when Maddie goes to the veterinary clinic to “meet cute” with Percy, who volunteers there. She sees him cuddling a puppy and, dressed to the nines, approaches and says “Mind if I touch your weiner.” It turns out that Maddie means weiner DOG and, when asked why she wants to adopt a dog, says, “Because I can’t have dogs of my own.”

The uber confident Maddie, taking on some teenagers who are attempting to steal their clothes as they skinny dip in the ocean, while nude is a tour de force. Her confident and aggressive take charge attitude is perfectly contrasted with Percy’s indecisiveness. However, when Maddie convinces Percy to sing a song for her at a restaurant ( he selects “Maneater”), the significance of the song’s lyrics resonate and we begin to see the emotional growth that will occur for both main characters, leading to a better-than-anticipated happy ending.

Jennifer Lawrence is a talented actress and, boy, can she do comedy! I would much rather see her in something like this than in “Mother” or “Causeway,” despite acknowledging that she can expertly do both.

Now to my own unique connection to the song “Maneater,” which made this film a home run even for me.

I once did a road trip from the Quad Cities of Illinois to Fargo, North Dakota, to visit my friend Pan. This is a distance of roughly 500 miles. It takes 9 hours. This was in the 1980s, the day of cassettes. My radio was not working, so I was dependent on the cassettes I had brought for tunes for the trip.

I popped in Hall & Oates’ “Maneater” tape and enjoyed it for a while. Then, I attempted to eject it and put in a different tape; the cassette would not eject. I tried the radio, which was not working. I had two choices: silence for 9 hours or “Maneater.”

Three times, along the route, I stopped at gas stations and asked various mechanic types to try to get this cassette out of my player, so I could change songs. I still remember the gas station attendant stretched out on the floor of my car, attractive butt-crack revealed, poking at the cassette player with a long pointed screwdriver-like instrument. He was unsuccessful in removing the tape, so it was “Maneater” or nothing for 9 long hours.

When my friend and I—who were going to be flying to Europe together on a girls only trip—went out the night after my arrival to a Neil Diamond concert (THAT will date me!) the tape was still stuck in my cassette player. We attended the concert and, after we emerged from the concert and started the engine, the tape magically popped out on its own.

I will never forget that song. I truly related to its message, then and now.

“No Hard Feelings” is a good one! Check it out.

Volleyball for Four Days in Chicago

By Connie Wilson

On June 28, 2023

In News, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Texas

Elise is ready.

There is a volleyball tournament ongoing here in Chicago at McCormick Place.

My 14-year-old granddaughter, Elise, was drafted to play with a Texas team coming to the tournament.

She played an entire season back in Austin with a different team, so tonight’s team seemed as though playing as an ensemble was still in the “gelling” stage.

Elise had games at 4, 5 and 7 p.m.

She will have more games tomorrow at roughly the same times.

The last 3 games against the Wisconsin team Elise’s team won, which was nice.

The first set of games against the Los Angeles team did not go as well.

It was difficult to gauge how many teams were playing inside McCormick Place. I tried to count one row and could not see past 7 different sets of teams playing on temporary courts.

I’ve been to McCormick Place for an automobile show and I’ve attended two BEA (Book Expo America) shows at the Chicago facility. Usually, the BEA takes place in New York City, but every so many years they bring it to the Midwest.

The weather here has been very smoky due to the wild fires burning in Canada. There is rain predicted for tomorrow and that may carry the smoke out of the area. Everything is gearing up for the NASCAR race that will put cars on Columbus and Lake Shore Drive and Roosevelt and other Chicago city streets for a race that will see the cars traveling 120 mph through the streets of the city. Much of this race goes on near me, so, as you can imagine, getting around during this preparation is chaotic.

Back to the volleyball court(s) tomorrow and, supposedly, on Friday and Saturday as well.

The Wilson family has a female jock. (Yeah!)

Chris Christie: GOP Savior or GOP Gadfly?

By Connie Wilson

On June 22, 2023

In Editorial, Essays on Politics: Best Political Essays & Ideology, News, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Politics, Television

Christie in 2022

Frank Bruni is a contributing Opinion writer who was on the staff of The Times for more than 25 years. He wrote a June 21^st opinion about Chris Christie’s recent remarks during his CNN Town Hall appearance. Mr. Bruni found Christie’s remarks as refreshing and as necessary as I did, in watching this appearance.

I had also just completed reading Margaret Haberman’s book on Donald J. Trump. Haberman, the New York Times writer assigned to cover Trump over decades, interviewed hundreds of personal friends of DJT and related that Christie was very definitely trying to snag the VP nomination for himself during 2016.

Most of us who watched Mr. Christie during his Sunday morning talk show appearances know that he was the politician tapped to “prep” Donald J. Trump for debates during his run, although DJT was not a willing student at all times. One of the more startling facts that Haberman rehashed was how Trump, himself, kept Christie wondering about who would ultimately be his running mate. The three finalists were said to be Pence, Christie and Newt Gingrich. Trump called up the Indiana Senator and told him to fly out for the announcement, and Christie got wind of the Pence family’s arrival in Teterboro, N.J. It was not a happy conversation when Christie realized that Trump had been jacking him around for literally months, I’m sure.

Here’s what Frank Bruni had to say: “Chris Christie made a complete fool of himself back in 2016, fan-dancing obsequiously around Donald Trump, angling for a crucial role in his administration, nattering on about their friendship, pretending or possibly even convincing himself that Trump could restrain his ego, check his nastiness, suspend his grift and, well, serve America. But then Christie, a former two-term governor of New Jersey, had plenty of company. And he never did style himself as a saint.

It’s all water under the George Washington Bridge now. The Chris Christie of the current moment is magnificent. I don’t mean magnificent as in, “He’s going to win the Republican presidential nomination.” I don’t mean I am rooting for a Christie presidency and regard him as the country’s possible saviour.

But what he’s doing in this Republican primary contest is very, very important. It also couldn’t be more emotionally gratifying to behold. He’s telling the unvarnished truth about Trump, and he’s the only candidate doing that. A former prosecutor, he’s artfully, aggressively and comprehensively making the case against Trump, knocking down all the rationalizations Trump has mustered and all the diversions he has contrived since his 37-count federal indictment.”

In a poll released on Friday by The New Hampshire Journal, Christie had pulled into third place among Republicans in the state, far behind Trump, who had 47 percent of the vote, but not far behind Ron DeSantis, who had just 13. Christie had 9, followed by Mike Pence with 5. That partly reflects Christie’s decision to make his initial stand, so to speak, in New Hampshire. But it also reflects something else: He’s excellent at this.

Christie is to DeSantis what a Roman candle is to a scented votive. He explodes in a riot of color. DeSantis, on his best days, flickers.”

I would like to add that Christie’s performance on that CNN Town Hall, was, indeed, more like a Roman candle than the halting delivery of second place runner Ron DeSantis. I found his one-on-one answers to members of the audience to be spot-on, even when one asked about the infamous Bridgegate controversy that ended his time in New Jersey politics.

My enchantment with Christie’s fireworks makes me a cliché. In an observant and witty analysis in The Atlantic on Monday with the headline “Chris Christie, Liberal Hero,” David Graham inventoried the adoring media coverage Christie has garnered, noting that while there’s zero evidence that Christie could actually win the contest he has entered, “pundits are swooning.” It should be noted here that hard-core GOP voters were less thrilled with Christie’s sudden emergence as one of the few Republicans to let the truth prevail. Many of the most faithful Republicans—up to 70% in one poll—said they would not vote for him.

But the swoon isn’t about Christie’s prospects. It’s about the hugely valuable contrast to other Republican presidential candidates that he’s providing. And about this: The health of American democracy hinges on a reckoning within the Republican Party, and that won’t come from Democrats saying the kinds of things that Christie is now saying. They’ve been doing that for years. It’ll come — if it even can — from the words and warnings of longtime Republicans who know how to get and use the spotlight.

Did you see Christie’s CNN town hall last week? Have you watched or listened to any of his interviews? He’s funny. He’s lively. He’s crisp. And he’s right. Over the past few weeks, he has described Trump’s behavior as “vanity run amok.” Trump himself is “a petulant child.”

At the town hall: “He is voluntarily putting our country through this. If at any point before the search in August of ’22 he had just done what anyone, I suspect, in this audience would have done, which is: said, ‘All right, you’re serious? You’re serving a grand jury subpoena? Let me just give the documents back,’ he wouldn’t have been charged. Wouldn’t have been charged with anything, even though he had kept them for almost a year and a half.”

Other candidates, who prefer not to talk about the charges against Trump, are reportedly worried that his indictment will mean ceaseless chatter about him and extra difficulty promoting their own (muted and muddled) messages. Josh Barro, in his Substack newsletter Very Serious, nailed the absurdity of that, pointing out that Trump’s front-runner status and enormous lead over all of them guarantee that he’ll always monopolize the conversation, indictment or no indictment.

“The Republican nomination campaign cannot — and will not — be about anything but Donald Trump, and the media is not going to invite them on TV to talk about topics other than Donald Trump,” Barro wrote. “So, since they are going to talk about Donald Trump all the time, they had better talk about why he should not be nominated.” Christie is getting invitations and attention because he is doing precisely that. Maybe, just maybe, some of them will take note and wise up.

To the conundrum of what, if Christie qualifies for the Republican primary debates, he’ll do about the required pledge that he support whoever winds up getting the party’s nomination, he has apparently found a solution that’s suited to Republicans’ willful and nihilistic captivity to Trump, the stupidity of the pledge and the stakes of the race: He’ll sign what he must and later act as he pleases.

“I will do what I need to do to be up on that stage to try to save my party and save my democracy,” he told Jake Tapper on CNN’s “State of the Union” on Sunday morning.

Let’s pivot from Trump and Trump analogues to Trump sycophants. In The Atlantic, Tom Nichols described how J.D. Vance, who once spoke with such disparaging and devastating accuracy about Trump, did a self-serving about-face in his 2022 Senate race in Ohio and, reprogrammed by that victory, never looked back: “What he once wore as electoral camouflage is now tattooed all over him, in yet another fulfillment of the late Kurt Vonnegut’s warning that, eventually, ‘we are what we pretend to be.’”

Chris Christie, superhero? He has his own supersize vanity. He is arguably playing the only part in the crowded primary field available to him. And those dynamics may have as much to do with his assault on Trump as moral indignation does. Even so, saving his party and country agrees with him.

DeSantis, Pence, Tim Scott, Nikki Haley and other Republican presidential candidates are clearly telling themselves that they can’t do any good down the road if at this intersection they provoke Trump and run afoul of his supporters.

Where have we heard that before? It’s a version of what Christie said to himself in 2016. He now sees the folly of that fable.

“The Boogeyman:” Stephen King Redux

By Connie Wilson

On June 19, 2023

In Best Paranormal Stories Online to Read | Paranormal Podcast, Movies, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Pop Culture, Reviews, Scary stories

We were desperate for a movie to see at the theater on a weekend. The ones offered were grim.

Then, I noticed that the screenwriters (Scott Beck and Bryan Woods) behind “A Quiet Place” had collaborated with a third writer (Mark Heyman) and taken an old Stephen King short story (from his “Night Shift” collection) and amplified it into a PG horror film. The second thing it had going for it was its lead, Chris Messina, whom I enjoyed in “Damages” (and “Argo” and “Air”). It was directed by Rob Savage who has been making films since he was eighteen that won him a “Star of Tomorrow” award.

Off we went to enjoy a truly good ensemble cast, which included Sophie Thatcher as Messina’s teenaged daughter Sadie Harper and Vivien Lyra Blair as her younger sister, Sawyer. Marin Ireland as Rita Billings has a nice cameo-length appearance as the deranged wife of Lester Billings (from the short story). Lester was portrayed by David Dastmalchian, who wanders into therapist Will Harper’s home office, tells him a harrowing story about his children dying one after another, and then, without enough of a preamble for the act, offs himself in a nearby closet.

Not since Jeffrey Epstein have we had a suicide as poorly explained. In fact—although I’ve read that the very act of barging in and killing himself in their house dooms the Harper family to what happens thereafter—I admit I don’t remember it from the source material. This explanation is not emphasized enough to satisfy me as the why for all that occurs after Lester’s untimely demise.

THE GOOD

I’m glad I saw this film in a theater, because it’s so dark that when it streams, the dark images will be difficult to decipher. The cast is uniformly excellent. The production designer (Jeremy Woodward) and the cinematographer (Eli Born) have worked together to use negative space and darkness beautifully. Since one of the lines from the film is “It needs the dark to stay hidden,” the framing and continual use of darkness is extremely well-done.

Most of us, as small children, had a fear of the dark. All of us, at any age, have a fear of what goes bump in the night. I was particularly struck by the sounds that foster the mood. I grew up in a very old house that had a heating system along the baseboards that pumped heated water to warm the rooms upstairs. The baseboard heating system made all sorts of ungodly noises. Id you were home alone, it was only a short putt from the strange gurgling noises to paranoia and incipient terror. So, well done, sound people!

I was impressed by the ominous music in the therapist scenes and elsewhere. Sometimes, the background noises are of a beating heart gradually slowing. Music is by Patrick Jonsson. Yes, the movie is more dependent on sounds and jump scares than on gory images, at least until the finale “Alien-like” scenes, but that was just fine with me. The “thing” that lurked in the closet and under the bed was well done when it finally is seen up close, but I’m partial to the build up of suspense by subtler means.

THE BAD

I had never seen a giant white ball that lights up in the possession of a child or an adult. It was an interesting prop for the “fear of the dark” theme, but, still, it seemed very unusual. While I loved the scene where the younger daughter uses the white ball to try to see the boogeyman, it was not a universal toy.

The grief that the family is experiencing, because of the death of the girls’ mother in a car accident only months prior, makes for a troubled backdrop for the teenager Sadie, in particular. Her friends at school, with the exception of one closer friend, seem like the cast of “Mean Girls.” When the wound of a lost parent is so fresh for the troubled teenager I found the extreme nastiness of 90% of her friends to be questionable, but, then, this is the age of Facebook shaming, so color me Old School. (Shame on them, by the way!)

I wondered, when Sophie goes to Lester Billings’ house, if you could really walk right in, as she does. The candles in the hallway, while a nicely spooky touch, seemed completely unsafe, but the scenes featuring Lester’s widow (Marin Ireland) were top-notch, as she attempts to lure the Shadow Monster from the dark using Sophie as unwilling bait. The dialogue made me smile, as when Sawyer, the younger child, says, “Just trying not to die.”

The old Polaroid camera in the closet, while a nice touch, was an anachronism. Who still sells or uses Polaroid cameras, and what, exactly, was the camera going to do to help Mrs. Billingsley? Sony got a nice product placement with a Sony Infolithium System. Use of the old Irish song “Tura Lura Lura” never seemed to be tied into the plot well, just as Lester Billingsley’s sudden suicide seemed precipitous and poorly explained. I blame this on my memory of the short story, which I read many years ago (and have not revisited.)

Lines that I liked (“The thing that comes for your kids when you’re not paying attention,” and “”Sometimes it’s better to have something to blame than to accept things that happen”) were offset by the ubiquitous “You got this.” (That’s probably just me; I’m really sick of that catch phrase.)

Overall, while I agree that no new horror ground was broken by the film, the normal scary territory was well served. We enjoyed the film, especially glad that we had actually been able to see it because of the big screen. We’ve been watching “The Invasion” on Apple + and it’s so dark in the monster sequences that, frequently, we don’t know exactly what we’re watching.