Wild Things

I had thought for a time that I might take my 18 month old grandson to the new "Where The Wild Things Are" movie, but now I guess not. This morning (after a full day yesterday of payment and time entry bringing me inches from finishing and creating/printing the bills) I woke this morning realizing it was Sunday, and I had yet another full day to finish that task - then I watched tv till I realized it was 10:25, and went onto my Blackberry for the hell of it to see what time the earliest show started and it was at 10:45, so I threw my toothbrush and toothpaste into my purse, washed my face and put on a bit of eye makeup (just in case the man of my dreams appeared in the next seat), put on my new MDB shoes with the rocking sole that is supposed to reduce my butt and gut and force me to stand up straight, and put on my stretch jeans with the unwashable blue inkspot (now, at this 145 pound stage, actually almost too tight) and the new black sweater coat that was $35 at Old Navy, wrapped my wool Kenzo scarf (the one in shades of turquoise and pink) around my neck, and hailed a taxi.

Sitting in the theater with a small unbuttered popcorn and a bottle of water, I noticed a young man with a little girl of about 5 and her younger brother, perhaps 3.

The studio announcement with the logo had a crayonj outline of a wild thing's head over it, and the credits had crayon words and scribblings on them. A good sign, indicating that the movie was perhaps really aimed at children.

And the creatures on the island looked large and fuzzy and just like the Sendak drawings. And so did Max in his white wolf suit.

But, the movie, though not really frightening (except for a couple of moments - such as when the wild things at first threatened to eat Max, something true to the book but much more vivid with actors and closeups), there was a bit too much violence (though generally playful - such as when one of the large creatures jumped on top of Max, followed by all of the others, one at a time, until there they were, with Max at the bottom of the pile, having created a gigantic furry Max-plus-creatures pile for sleeping; or when they took Max's lead and waged a "war" by throwing hard dirt balls at each others' heads)...................as I said, though it was not really frightening, nevertheless it was lengthy and primarily about complex interpersonal relationships.

I of course appreciated the concept of how loneliness, and self involvement (and immaturity, of course, since even the giant creatures had the personalities of children) can sabotage close familial relationships by resulting in violent acting out-angry outbursts rather than caring and concern. And I do think that perhaps a child of 8 or 10 might get it. Nevertheless, it is not a movie for small children.

And what about my two little neighbors down the row? They sat thrugh much of it (it IS a large screen and a relatively small theater, rendering the screen that much larger) but they also seemed a bit restless. At one point the little boy walked by his dad to stand in front of his sister , at one point the girl leaned over and curled into a bored sleeping position, and they did ask questions from time to time.

Did I like it? Yes. I enjoyed the special affects and the personalities. On the other hand, I love fantasy and the fantastic. I can have a great time at Disney all by myself. I remember the first time I visited EuroDisney (I think that now it is called something else). I took the train from Paris, got off at the stop, and within a few minutes found myself standing in a tiled plaza with the magic castle rising into the blue sky just on the other side - and my heart jumped, my eyes teared up a bit, and I had to stop myself from clapping and chortling and jumping and saying out loud what I was yelling inside my head - "oh boy, oh boy, ohboy, it's Disney! Yeahhhhhhhhhh!"

So, what else did I do today?

Well, though yesterday was cold and dank and dreary and wet and I shivered when i ran across the street for a coffee, today the sky was blue and the sun shone warmly and the air had that nice slightly cool but smooth perfumed smell of a spring day. I think it was maybe 55 of 60 degrees.

So I left the theater, unwound my scarf and hung it over my arm, and started just walking . A few blocks later I heard the musical sound of La Francaise and sure enough there were three young men walking just behind me. They were good looking and casually dressed in that European way of nicely fitting jeans and nice shirts and jackets, and they were chattering away in Parisian French. I had been walking quickly to get my heart rate up, but hearing their voices slowed me down. I let them stay within earshot so the sound could wash over me. Finally, they stopped at a Bentley dealership and window shopped for a bit, then pushed each other through the door to look more closely.

Then, a block later, a thin young man in a dark suit was talking into that earpiece-mouthpiece contraption that let him talk on his "portable" hands free as he stood by a black towncar waiting for whomever he was driving - and yes, he too was talking in French.

Finally, two blocks later, a group of young men and women were standing at the curb talking about their days activities in..............yes, French! As if the world knew how strongly I am feeling my urge to jump back to Paris, even if just for a weekend. Or perhaps it was just that I was near the Hotel Sofitel - but I have walked by that hotel many times and never had this "on the streets of Paris" out of body experience before.

Then, I went to Bistro Zinc and had an oeuf poche' avec epinards and Hollandaise on English muffin, with little pieces of well spiced potatoes (that I only ate part of), along with a smooth glass of beaujolais, and finally a cappucino . I drank a lot of water and at the same time read the first two stories in the Murikami book "After the Quake".

Then, I left the restaurant and breathed in the warm air and felt the sun on my fact and decided to walk for a bit, and ran into a couple standing on a street corner with an unfurled map of Chicago, looking confused. They were in their fifties - he had white hair and a red face, she had blonde/brown short hair and wore a blue jacket. I always ask such people if Ican help them, and they took me up on it . They were staying at the Palmer House and had just fnished an architectural tour on the river where they were told of the Tiffany vaulted ceiling at the Cultural Center and wanted to somehow get there without navigating the oh so crowded Michigan Avenue so I told them they could head east and take the Lake route, and decided to accompany them. So this nice couple from Seattle and I then . walked to the Lake, back south to Navy Pier where we walked part way down the Pier (and I got someone to give them a tour of the Shakespeare Theater when intermission started), and then we walked the Navy Pier, North Pier, past the Sheraton, under the Columbus bridge along the Lake and River route back to the Cultural Center where I waved goodbye.

So I have not eaten badly today, and I did exercise of sorts, and I have blogged somewhat, and it is now 1:18 a.m. and I need to get some sleep, so I think I will set an alarm for very early so I can first finish the billing, and then walk to the end of Navy Pier or the Museum Campus to see the sun rise.