johnvano.com

My New Books

Paula's grandparents sent us each $50 for Christmas. This picture will show you how I spent my money. When I've got free cash I can't help but spend it on books and travel. This time the books got me. I'm sure you'll be hearing about these (hopefully good) reads in 2007.

Pictured (l-r): The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, a childhood memoir by Bill Bryson; Little Children, by Tom Perrotta (I've never heard of him but this book is the basis for an award-winning movie that's now playing); O Pioneers!, by Willa Cather (I've never read her either, but I figured I should get at least one literary classic out of the bunch); and The City of Falling Angels, by John Berendt (the second book by the author of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil--a book I finished a few weeks ago and loved).

The 'Lard Butts' Are Champions

Hey, guess what? I won my pretend football championship game this week. I started playing fantasy football in 1994, and for the past five years have been playing in a league that was made up mostly of people from work but now there's just two of us (out of 14) that work together.

I'm the commissioner of this league, but I'm probably most famous for the fake news articles I write about my team. I always write myself into the reports as team owner. My favorite stories were from a few years ago when I wrote about my fake feud with my quarterback Brett Favre, and then there were those "creative/investigative" pieces about my opponents.

I have posted my championship-winning news release for you here--the names of other owners have been changed, and the comment about one needing Rich Little refers to a guy whose father and wife are in the league and the persistent rumor among us that he secretly runs their teams for them--a certain conflict of interest (hee-hee).
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(AP) Miami--Sitting on a curb amidst soda cups, pretzel wrappers, and cigarette butts is Lard Butts' owner, John Vano, staring ahead and thinking about the team that could.

"Everyone said it couldn't be done," Vano marvels. "But I just kept telling Carson, Maurice, and Tiki--'let's do this', Butts before Beauty, you know?"

Indeed, "Butts Before Beauty" became the hallmark of the playoff campaign for this 6-6 team. After 10 games they were mired at 4-6, but a pre-game speech by Tiki Barber, in his final season as a Butt, channeled an improbable winning streak that took them through both the season and the Down and Out Bowl.

"Our guys were stout this year," says Vano, "Quarterback, my runners, ... well the receivers all sucked. Do you know how hard I tried to get a tight end this year? I called all the teams--talked to Tom Walker three times, I couldn't believe his impersonations of his father and wife. Was I supposed to believer that? He shoulda hired Rich Little!"

The Family Portrait (non-humorous endorsement)

We went to have a new family portrait taken last night--since it's Christmas, and since we've never had a sitting of just our family since Cooper was born 2 years ago.

Paula found a new studio--Portrait Innovations--which had just opened a few miles down the road, and we tried them out because of a special they were having. Our appointment was at 5:20, and we hoped to make it to my in-laws' church by 6:30 for a Christmas concert. As it turned out, the studio was short staffed due to illness and it wasn't until 6:20 that we got started. Needless to say, I was in a bit of a funk by then because it was getting late and it's not easy to keep five little kids quiet for that long.

But the young photographer quickly changed our moods with his silliness and complete lack of pretense or shame. He was refreshingly self-deprecating and quick, without the snootiness that some photographers wear. So in about six minutes he had overcome my 60 minutes of frustration (plus my begrudged presence).

Scoop

In Woody Allen's film Scoop, he re-teams with his new muse Scarlett Johansson for a caper about a journalism student traveling abroad who happens upon a clue from beyond the grave which could have ramifications on an ongoing case involving a serial killer.

Vaudevillian humor, mistaken identity devices, and romance are fused together into a story focused on anxiety and identity. There is anxiety about self--whether at the beginning of adulthood, or at the end of life, anxiety about the people you grow close to, anxiety about how you are perceived, and anxiety about losing someone you love. The subject of identity shadows Allen (playing a two-bit magician entertaining in London) and Johnansson (following a lead given to her by a just-deceased newspaperman) as they represent themselves falsely to others in an effort to uncover the true identity of Peter Lyman (Hugh Jackman), the possible killer.

Scoop is entertaining, clever, and unique, but the strong romantic feelings expressed between Johansson's Sondra Pransky and Jackman's Peter Lyman, seem false. There is no spark or magic, no evidence to accept they are falling for each other, and no desire on my part to see them succeed in love. I was far more compelled by Allen and Johansson's relationship. Johansson plays effectively against type (see buxom blonde femme fatale) as a youthful, earnest, and unglamourous sort but she stumbles out of the gate with her Woody Allen impersonation. She's much better once she settles into her character and begins to act naturally, and not like Woody.

Scoop is interesting and well-paced, with just enough dramatic tension to hold your interest. It aims to be funny, but is merely in the spirit of humor--as I never laughed. In the end, the movie is less about the resolution than the journey. Grade: B-

King For a Day

I'm not much of a gamer--in fact, my wife got me an Xbox system for my birthday a few years ago and I've hardly played it. But I introduced it to our 7 and 6 year-old about a year ago and they both really enjoy it. My son, predictably, has a few problems managing his lust for game time v. his time for eating, sleeping, and playing. He also enjoys telling you circular stories about different levels of play on his Star Wars Lego game. But enough about him, this is about me!

As I was saying, I'm not much of a gamer--but I have picked up the controls again for the first time in awhile thanks to the new Xbox games available at Burger King. Now I must say again what I have told many of you before--I'm a big fan of Burger King, but I actually don't really care for their food. I just like the idea of Burger King, mostly because of all the nostalgic commercials from my youth and because of the King. I am fascinated by this modern incantation of him--and his ads bring me much delight.

So I recently merged my kids' love for the Xbox with my love for the King and bought them a video called Big Bumpin' for $3.99 with a value meal purchase (when we were driving home from Disney World at Thanksgiving). Then I got them Pocketbike Racer a week ago. When I popped Pocketbike Racer into the Xbox to try it out with the new wireless controller I had purchased for the kids--I immediately fell in love.

Where Hath the Bubbles Gone?

Too distressed to write. Too tortured to function. Too dizzy to distill my grief.

What has happened, you ask? Bubbles the Fish has died.

Why? Why? Why is our reward for the care and feeding of animals--to lose them? To have our hearts ripped out, beating still?

Bubbles, who sat on our kitchen counter for most of this year. Bubbles, who blew tiny oxygen bubbles that looked so round. Bubbles, who ate what we gave him and never complained. Bubbles, who didn't say boo when he missed a meal or two. Bubbles--the fish whom I really don't remember. What color was he? What type of fish was he? All I remember is he cost less than two bucks and no one at home is clamoring for his replacement.

People 7, Animals 4.

Bet Ya Didn't Know...

I discovered a lot of random animal facts that I'd like to take a moment to blow your minds with. You may think you know the proper names of common zoo animals, but think again--do you know what the male and female versions of the following animals are called?

- The female alligator is a cow.
- The badger boy is a boar, while his lady friend is a sow.
- Bears are also called boars and sows--who knew?
- A beaver baby is a kitten.
- You probably know that a male cat is a tomcat, but did you know the female is called a queen? That explains a lot.
- This one is remarkable--we all know a donkey is known as an ass, but what you probably didn't know is the male ass is literally known as a jack. And the female is a jennyass.
- The baby dove is a squab.
- A baby eel is called leptocephalus.
- The male falcon is a tercel.
- Opussum are called either jack or jill.
- Swan men are cob, the women are pen, and the babies are flapper.
- And to me, this one is the weirdest of all. The peacock is not a species at all, because you're only a peacock, if you're the male. The true animal name is a peafowl. Females are peahens and babies are peachick.

You truly do learn something new everyday at johnvano.com.

Not That I'm a Scrooge...

Not that I'm a Scrooge, but I think we have Christmas too frequently.

When you're a kid, I guess it's about right. Then, Christmas is always on your mind and the year can't pass quickly enough to get to said holiday. Of course, I was a little different as a kid because I hated New Year's. It depressed me--I didn't want to lose my grip on each old year because I didn't want anything to change, and I didn't want to grow up. But Christmas was fine as an annual event.

In fact, your mind is so young and your memory so fluid that you needed a few year's worth of traditions to cement the themes and memories of Christmas in your pulpish gray matter.

But as an adult, Christmas comes too quickly. And with decorations popping up around Halloween, Christmas has annexed about three full months--I don't get much of a chance to appreciate non-Christmas, or to build up much of a longing for Christmas to come.

Thanksgiving seems about right for a once a year celebration--you can't have turkey enough--and it's truly nice to do the family visit with the gratitude in your heart. Halloween also seems about right at it's current pace, as does Easter. Groundhog Day maybe needs to pop up twice annually--I sometimes miss that one the first time around.

And New Year's should only occur every third year--I'm getting too old.

** This post is not meant to infer that the joyous celebration of Jesus' birth should be recognized less, but that the intention of Christmas--that the gift of Christ should encompass all of life--should be emphasized more.