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turnaboutstevie · 9 months

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The Best Day

Inspired by me listening to the best day and crying over how much I love my dad, and by my incurable TLOU brainrot, here is 2k of Joel being an amazing dad, Sarah being an amazing kid, and both of them being happy for fucking once.

Tags: No Outbreak!AU, WORLD'S BEST DAD JOEL, basically a songfic, there is a speech and I have not written a speech in 6 years so apologies if that sucks. Liberties taken with: depicting the 90s and early 2000s, the way US schools work, the amount of speech development a 3 year old should have. I used the show's timeline for the years, btw. Crossposted to AO3

PLEASE ignore any mistakes, I am disabled, dyslexic and brain foggy.

1992

The kitchen is a veritable mess, a painting set spread across the dining table, and a plastic sheet protecting the wood from staining. Sheets of A4, some wet with paint and some already dry, cover seemingly every surface. Swashbuckling pirates, beautiful princesses, dwarves and poison apples- at least, those were the artistic vision. In reality, they're mostly stick figures with splashes of colour, painted haphazardly by the very focused 3-year-old sat at the table. Sarah babbles half-coherent explanations of everything she paints, and Joel diligently labels them with a biro, sure to tell her that every single one of them is a work of art. Tommy stands in the corner, a camcorder in hand, a smile on his face as he watches his brother and niece. Sarah holds her most recent work of art up for her beloved uncle to see, the watercolour paint running down the page a little- Joel hadn't been able to get proper watercolour paper, hadn't really known where he might, so they're making do with printer paper. It doesn't absorb the paint nearly as well, but it'll dry eventually. He hopes.

Tommy squints at Joel's scribble at the top of the page- Cinderella- and smiles at her. "Belongs in the Louvre, that does." He says, focusing the camcorder on the page. "What's the L-... Louvre?" Sarah asks, taking a moment to get used to the new word. "It's an art museum, sweetheart," Joel says, kissing her forehead. "Uncle Tommy's right. You're a superstar. But even superstars need rest, or they ain't able t'shine. So let's clean you up, and then it's time for bed for you, baby girl." Sarah pouts, but her argument is interrupted by a yawn.

Sitting on the edge of the sink while Joel scrubs her hand, she scrunches up her nose. "Daddy, why doesn't Cinderella just leave, when they're so mean to her?" She asks, with all the gravity of someone asking a politician how they plan to tackle a brewing war. He hums, thinking on how to phrase this. "Sometimes, sweetheart, people are so mean for so long that the people they're being mean to feel like they have no way to get away from it." He frowns. "You ever feel like that, you tell me, yeah? I'll come and get you away. No matter what."

A few minutes later as he tucks her into bed, freshly clean, she reaches up and presses her tiny fingers into his cheek. "You're so strong, Daddy. Like Superman." He smiles down at her. "And you're pretty as a princess, baby girl." He switches her nightlight on, kisses the top of her head. He's about to offer her a story, but she's already fast asleep. He sighs, staring down at her for a few moments.

"I'll keep you safe from anythin' that might hurt ya." He whispers, promising her even though she can't hear him.

1994

When Sarah is 5 years old, Joel takes her to a pumpkin patch. The sky is grey-blue when they arrive, and he makes sure to listen to the weather report on the truck's radio before deciding whether to bring the umbrella out of the back seat. He unclips her from her car seat, and he doesn't even have the door shut before she's running off. His laugh is exasperated but affectionate as he runs after her, hurriedly locking the truck, but she's already lost in a sea of people.

Panic grips him, as well as regret that he didn't take his anxiety pills this morning, and that he didn't think to tell her to hold onto his sleeve while he locked the car so she wouldn't run off. He's looking around desperately, trying to focus more on finding her than the dangers he can see that she could run into, when he catches a glimpse of her- a flash of lavender on the other side of the crowd. Where she gets her speed, her energy, he'll never understand, but he musters his own and runs after her, into a field he's sure they're not meant to be in. Hopefully, farmers understand that whims of a 5-year-old.

He catches up to her only when she comes to a stop, clearly having exhausted her sudden burst of excited energy. He comes to a halt next to her, taking a moment to catch his breath. His physical fitness applies to manual labour, not long-distance sprints. "Sweetheart, you can't just run off like that, you'll give me a heart attack-" He begins, but when he looks down at the way she's smiling, at how her big puffy winter coat makes her look like a penguin dyed lavender, at her fascination with the way the horizon is slowly turning gold, he can't help the affectionate laugh that spills out of him, bringing his gentle lesson to a halt. Sarah glances up at him when she hears his laugh, wrapping her tiny arms around his calf and hugging tight, and he calms immediately. She has that effect on him.

He sits down in the field, among the corn, holding onto the back of her coat to stop her running off as they watch golden hues paint across the sky, fading in places into pinks and purples. He fishes his Fujifilm out of his coat pocket, holding it up to snap a photo of her against the sunset, just as she turns back to smile at him. The result is a candid snap of the grin she reserves only for him, an unreserved beaming smile that warms his heart every time it crosses her face. She sits in his lap as the sky fades to grey, falling asleep with an ease that seems reserved only for kids. They'd done none of the things she'd said she wanted to, but she seemed so happy that he doesn't mind. She's probably forgotten all of it anyway.

He carries Sarah back to the truck, putting the Snow White soundtrack into the cassette player in case she wakes up when he starts it- which, of course, she does. She sings along, quiet and groggy at first but getting louder. As he pulls into the McDonald's drive-thru, she turns to look at him. "Can we go to Snow White's house, Daddy? I wanna tell her she's my favourite." Joel smiles, his heart swelling all over again. "I'll give her a call, sweetheart. See if I can arrange it."

He saves up for months, and takes her to Disneyland for her 6th birthday.

2002

Not long before Sarah finishes middle school, she walks into the house at 4 pm on a Thursday and devolves into a flood of tears. Joel's barely been home 5 minutes, exhausted and aching, but he cradles her in his arms instantly, comforting her in soothing whispers before he even knows the problem. As soon as she's calm enough to explain what happened- how her friends decided out of the blue that they hate her, and never even told her why-he's grabbing the keys to his truck. He lets her pick the tape, and sings along with her even though he hates Atomic Kitten, because he loves her more. He drives until her tears are dry, until she's smiling in the passenger seat and rolling her eyes at his awful jokes.

The town they end up in is miles from home, and he smiles down at her when she clings to his coat sleeve while they queue at a hot dog stand, the same way she used to when she was a tot. They eat their hot dogs on a park bench, while she tells him about how Liz Hurley has just given birth, and what Britney Spears is up to right now. He listens intently, as he always does, even though he's struggling to keep up with the speed of her rambling. When they finish eating he follows her into the nearby mall, making a mental note of anything she says she likes, for birthday gift ideas. He gives her $30 and lets her buy whatever she wants, smiling enthusiastically when she drags him to checkout with a purse shaped like a guitar, a set of plastic bead bracelets and two sweatshirts. It comes to $35, and he doesn't hesitate to hand another 5 dollar bill over, even when she offers to put the bracelets back. She falls asleep in the passenger seat on the drive home, and Joel smiles to himself. She grows more every day- sometimes he swears he blinked the day she was born and ended up 13 years older with a teenager - but Sarah's still his little girl. She still needs her dad, and he's always gonna be there.

Keeping her safe, like he promised her 10 years ago.

2008- May

Joel sits on a rickety plastic chair in a rundown auditorium next to his brother, and watches his baby girl accept her high school diploma. The golden sash around her shoulders makes him swell with pride, and though he promised himself he wouldn't cry, his eyes are watering the second her valedictorian speech begins. Inspiration was the theme she'd told him when he asked, but she'd refused to let him read it. He soon understands why.

"I can talk about my literary inspirations, or my political ones, and you can nod and agree with me, but I wouldn't be doing myself justice." She says, a third of the way into her speech. "But the worst injustice would be to my biggest inspiration of all. My father." Joel's vision blurs with tears, and he's immediately grateful for Tommy's rare moment of foresight in insisting he bring a packet of tissues. "My father is my rock. My biggest supporter and my best friend. He keeps me grounded, he gives me strength. He's on my side even when I'm wrong, but he never lets me dwell in ignorance. Without him, I would never have arrived here. He's been with me through all the hard work, 18 years of painful life lessons and unfortunate regrets- but also the moments of joy and love, the things I'll never forget. He taught me to work, to endure, to keep going no matter what. And he taught me to laugh, and to love, and to find joy even in the mundane. Of all my inspirations, of all the stars I wish upon- my dad shines the brightest."

Joel might as well be sobbing, and he doesn't care a bit who sees him. He'd been worried when Sarah got accepted into Columbia, that her moving so far would create an emotional distance between them, that she'd grow up and forget about her old man. For some reason, it had never occurred to him that she loved him so much that he would be unforgettable. That she would call him her biggest inspiration... He'll be crying over that for the rest of his life. He glances over at Tommy, finding him blubbering just the same. The key difference between them is the camcorder he holds, the same one he's been using to record key moments in her life since he bought it 15 years ago. Joel hadn't even realised he'd brung it with him, but oh, he's so grateful for him in that moment.

A permanent record of the proudest moment in his life- tied only with the day Sarah was born.

2008- July

He takes her to Disneyland again, for her 19th birthday. Just a month before she's due to head off for college. The itinerary is far removed from the one they followed 13 years prior- replacing The Country Bear Jamboree with Star Tours, Goofy's Bounce House with the Haunted Mansion, the Mad Tea Party with Mark Twain's Riverboat. That evening, in the twin hotel room Joel booked, Sarah comes out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and catches him by surprise with a hug that practically winds him. He's stumped by what prompted such a forceful display of affection, until she looks up at him with tearful eyes and whispers: "I had the best day with you today, Dad."

And Joel realises that excitement for the next step in her adventure isn't the only feeling they share. That the ache in his heart at the idea of leaving her behind in New York next month, the feeling that she's growing up too fast, the need to find a way to grasp the sands of time and slow them down just for a moment, so he doesn't have to let her go- all of that is shared as well.

"Me too, sweetheart." He whispers, kissing her forehead. "The best."

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us game #tlou hbo #tlou #tlou game #tlou fic #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #sarah miller #📺🕹️tlou #🏷 joel miller #🏷 sarah miller

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1274

Department One: Apparel And Jewelry

What are you wearing today? Just a white duster dress. Very loungewear-y, hahaha. I didn’t feel like wearing shorts today.

What does your favorite shirt look like? At the moment I’m obsessed with my Vante shirt. It’s fanmade but it was made tastefully; the designs aren’t too loud and I love the cute little shoutouts and tributes to his past paintings, so it had been a ridiculously easy decision for me to want to buy it.

What kind of underwear do you prefer wearing? Eh I don’t really have a preference as long as I don’t find them uncomfy.

What are your favorite kind of jeans? I’m definitely still stuck in my mom jeans phase. Idk man, I just love how they match nearly all kinds of tops.

What do the last pair of shoes you wore look like? They were adidas sneakers. Not a big fan of chunky shoes but it’s an Ivy Park and it was on a big discount HAHAHA so I didn’t hesitate to get them.

How many shoes do you own? A little more than 10. I love shoes and wanna collect them someday...just not today, hahaha.

How much jewelry do you own? Not too big on jewelry; most, if not all the ones I wear are just borrowed from my mom since we share the same style anyway.

Do you own any real diamonds or other expensive jewelry? Yeah, the ones I would borrow from my mom are pretty pricey.

Has anyone ever gave you jewelry as a present? Yes, I received rings and necklaces from my ex. One of my aunts also gave me a necklace when I turned 7.

Do you like diamonds or gemstones better? I just stick with diamonds...which is...also a gemstone too, if I’m not mistaken.

Silver or gold? Silver.

Department Two: Electronics

Do you have a DVD player in your car? Not in mine, but we do have one in the family car. I used to watch movies on there often but after one grueling road trip where my motion sickness acted up, I haven’t wanted to use it since.

If you have one, what does your camera/camcorder look like? I just use the camera in my phone but back in the day I used to have a DSLR; that was when I thought I wanted to take up photography, heh. It was a Nikon D3100.

How much did it cost? I’m not sure since my dad gave it to me as a present, but a quick search told me it would’ve cost him around P20,000 which issssss wow more expensive than I thought.

What kind of cellphone do you have? I have an iPhone 8 with an LCD screen that’s deteriorating by the day HAHA. I really need to get a new phone.

How often do you send texts? I text just for work purposes now, so it really depends on how busy my accounts are. Some days would require me to send out more texts than usual.

Do you have your own computer or does your family share? I have my own laptop. My workplace also provided me with what’s supposed to be my work laptop, but they had it sent to me when I was already a couple of months into my job and all my needed files and programs were already in my personal laptop. Since I was too lazy to start everything all over again, I’ve never actually used the work laptop haha.

How many computers are in your house? We have three laptops in total - my siblings and I each have our own. Kind of a necessity these days.

Do you still have a VCR? I don’t think so.

How many DVDs do you own? We probably have around 30-50 but most of them are movies from like the 2000s that we just haven’t thrown out. Personally, I have about five DVDs of old films like Gone with the Wind, Rebel Without A Cause, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, etc, and recently I’ve been buying BTS merch so DVDs are part of that mix too.

Does your car have a GPS? No. I use Waze on my phone instead.

What kind of iPod/MP3 player do you have? Haven’t used an iPod in like a literal decade. I use Spotify for my music.

How many songs are on it? Spotify doesn’t work that way since it’s technically a database of songs.

What size is your TV? Never bothered to ask/check.

How many TVs are in your house? Four. Living room, dining room, master bedroom, my brother’s room.

What video game systems do you have? We have a PS3 and PS4.

What about handhelds? Switch. I believe my sister also still has her DSi stored somewhere.

How many video games do you have? Probably somewhere around 50-60. My dad and brother are content with repeating their games lol.

Department Three: Home

What kind of shampoo do you use? It’s a Dove variant but I’m just blanking out on the specific name/what it does.

Soap or shower gel? Shower gel.

What does your comforter look like? It’s pretty colorful and has geometric shapes and lines.

Does it match your pillows? Yep, they come in a set.

What size is your bed? Twin.

Do you or your parents like to decorate the house with various things or is it plain? My mom puts considerable effort in decorating the house but it’s nothing overboard that it feels tacky. There’s enough decor in enough spaces.

Does the furniture in your house match? Sure. I imagine my mom would be very irritated if she felt something was uncoordinated at home.

What does your couch look like? It’s a gray L-shaped couch. Gabie broke a portion of the couch’s springs when it had only spent its like first two weeks at home but surprisingly my mom has not noticed it yet; probably because she barely sits on that side.

How many does your dining room/kitchen table seat? It has six chairs, though since we’re five one of the chairs is almost always unoccupied.

Do you have any fancy china? No, my mom isn’t the type to collect those.

Do you have outside furniture? Yeah we have a table and chairs up on the rooftop, if they count.

What do your curtains look like? My siblings and I have pull-down blinds. The other rooms have these pulled-back gold curtains that’s accompanied by white sheers.

Department Four: Grocery

What kind of bread do you get? Sliced white bread, always. Sometimes my mom will pick up pan de sal, but she gets those from a certain bakery and no longer the grocery.

What is your favorite kind of cake? CHEEEEEEEEEESECAAAAAAAKE.

Do you get a lot of sweets from the grocery store? Eh, nah. Not a big fan of sweets.

What kind of soda is your favorite? Don’t like soda.

Do you drink juice? What kind? I can take it or leave it. I wouldn’t buy it for myself.

What is your favorite chewing gum? Doesn’t matter to me. The flavors last for only like a minute anyway.

Do you usually get candy from the check-out aisle? Nah. Those are far more accessible so who knows who could’ve touched or tampered with them. Plus, I mentioned I don’t like sweets.

What is your favorite soup? Miso or cream of mushroom.

Have you ever had soup when you were sick? No. I don’t enjoy hot beverages/liquids very much so I doubt I would feel comfort from soup when I’m sick.

What are your favorite canned vegetables? Not sure if it’s a cultural difference thing but canned vegetables kind of sound gross and I don’t think I’ve encountered those (I actually had to look it up lol). My parents always buy fruits and veggies as is.

What do you eat for breakfast? Fried rice is a constant but my mom switches up the set of viands every time. Some of the meals she serves would be hotdogs, eggs (either scrambled, omelette, fried, or sunny-side up), corned beef, dried fish, hashbrowns, luncheon meat, tapa, and Vienna sausages. Poptarts or toaster strudels? Poptarts. I’ve never had toaster strudel and I’m honestly not sure what that is.

What salad dressing do you prefer? Spicy mayo.

Ketchup, mayonnaise, or mustard? MAYONNAISE. I can live without the other two.

What kind of cookie do you like best? I only ever eat chocolate chip.

What kind of snacks do you get at the grocery store? Salted egg chips or Pringles. Not a big fan of snacks either. This survey is making me realize I’m way more into full meals than anything else.

Do you get the meat from the deli? Er, we don’t have delis here. Too fancy a concept lmao. If we have them, they are most likely in those extremely upscale, boujee neighborhoods.

What is your favorite frozen dinner? I mean my dad buys frozen meat, fish, etc, but the frozen dinner sets that I see in American culture, which I’m guessing is what’s being referred to in this question, are not common here.

Do you prefer frozen dinners to actual cooking? I honestly can’t imagine how it’s filling, but then again I’ve never tried it. Personally, food made from scratch is still the best.

What is your favorite kind of pasta? Fettuccine.

Do you eat meat? And if not, do you eat vegetarian meat? Yes, I eat meat. I get vegan options if they’re accessible and affordable, but those choices are hard to come by here.

What is your favorite fruit? Avocado is really the only one I’ll give a pass to. Everything else tastes horrible.

What about vegetable? Broccoli, bell peppers, green beans.

Department Five: Health And Beauty

What kind of makeup do you normally use? None. If I absolutely have to put on makeup, I will begrudgingly put on foundation, maybe some eyeliner, and lip gloss. And they will all most likely be borrowed from my sister.

Do you wear more makeup on special events? Not necessarily.

What is your favorite makeup brand? I wouldn’t be the right person to ask because I would just say none of them.

Do you use any acne products? Mmm no, I just splash water on my face, really. I actually got into a conversation about skincare with my co-workers yesterday and besides the usual shocked experessions I get when people find out I don’t use products, they recommended I at least get moisturizer and sunscreen. Idk, let’s see but historically it’s been hard to convince me to invest in skincare haha.

What kind of perfume do you use? I have one of Beyoncé’s perfumes, Heat Rush. I don’t actually know if that’s still in production but it’s been my staple for like a decade or so now.

Have you ever been on a diet? No. I never really had to be on one.

What products do you use in your hair? Shampoo and conditioner.

How often do you brush your hair? Only when I have to leave the house or have an important virtual work meeting.

What do you take when you have an upset stomach? Nothing. The toilet usually solves that for me lol.

Do you take any prescription medicine? Nope.

Department Six: Movies, Music, And Books

What is your favorite movie of all time? It’s been Two for the Road for a solid nine years and it doesn’t look like anything’s on its way to dethroning it anytime soon.

What genre of movie do like best? Drama. The more realistic it is, the better.

What was the last movie you watched? It’s a Korean film called Be With You. I liked it and I cried waterfalls, but the ending was so rushed it was kind of disappointing.

What was the last movie you purchased? I don’t buy movies. If I wanted to see a film I’ll check if Netflix has it, then if they don’t I just try to scour one of those illegal movie streaming sites that always happen to have thousands of pornographic ads hahaha.

What is your all time favorite band? Paramore. Do you still buy CDs? Only from artists I’m an extremely huge fan of. Right now that would be BTS, so I’m catching up on all the albums they’ve released in the last eight years.

What was the last CD you bought? I got the Butter album set, if that counts. If it doesn’t, the last full-length album I purchased was Dark & Wild.

What was the last song you listened to? I think it was Permission To Dance.

What is your favorite book? I haven’t found it yet.

Do you even like reading? I used to love it a lot more, to the point that back in grade school I was known as always having a book in my hand. I just don’t know where that passion went.

How often do you read? Nearly never. I mean...I do read fanfics, I guess; but I won’t count those.

Department Seven: Sports And Fitness

Do you own a bike/scooter/skateboard/etc.? We do have a bike at home, but that doesn’t mean I know how to ride it. We don’t have the other two.

How old were you when you learned to ride a bike w/o training wheels? I still don’t know how to last on a bike without training wheels heheh.

Have you ever been camping? Nah.

How often do you work out? Nope but at work my boss just started another fitness challenge, so I’ll probably have to get back on working out soon just because I would want to accomplish the challenge.

Are you in good shape? Sure, I think so. I’m not like fit fit because I neveeer exercise haha, but I also don’t make it a point to constantly eat unhealthy foods or have an unhealthy lifestyle to the point that it affects my body.

Do you go to a gym? I do not. I thought of getting a membership at the start of the year but I’m glad I didn’t push through with it because all the gyms are still closed anyway.

Have you ever been fishing? No. Idk if it’s my kind of pastime or not.

Have you ever been on a boat? Yeah. My country has like 7000 islands so I was bound to get on a boat at some point in my life haha.

Can you play golf? Never seemed interesting to me so no. Even on Wii Sports I barely picked golf.

Ever rode on a golf cart? Yeah, in resorts where we had to ride them to be taken to our room.

Would you ever go hunting? That’s an easy no.

What is your favorite sport? Pro wrestling or table tennis.

Ever played on a sports team? No, my school didn’t have a table tennis varsity.

Department Eight: Toys

What was your favorite toy as a child? Cash registers because I liked the buttons. Also Play-Doh sets that had those contraptions that would squirt out the clay in various shapes.

Do you still play with toys? Well, no.

Do you collect any toys? I don’t, but I’m not opposed to start buying Funko Pop figurines of people or characters I’m interested in.

Did you ever have building blocks? Sure, but I was never creative enough for them.

Did you play with dolls? No.

Barbies or Bratz? Which were better? BRATZZZZZZ

What is your favorite board game? Scrabble.

Do you like to do arts and crafts? Hell no.

Do you think that kids now have it better than when you were young? For sure, but isn’t that kind of the goal?

#survey #surveys

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amplesalty · 3 years

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Christmas 2020: Day 3 - Home Alone 4: Taking Back the House (2002)

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

3rd degree burns!

Wait, you mean there are more than just two of these? Yeah, I guess people only talk about the two starring The Incredible Culk himself. I’m uncharacteristically skipping ahead here to the 4th movie as I understand the 3rd doesn’t even take place at Christmas. For shame! It does have a young Scarlett Johansen in though and was surprisingly still released in cinemas at that time. I would have thought it would been a straight-to-video job for sure. Apparently it was up for a Razzie for worst remake or sequel but lost to Speed 2. I actually saw that in the cinema!

Anyway, not only does 4 actually take place at Christmas, it’s notable for starring Kevin McCallister so serves as a continuation of the first two movies, unlike 3 which went off with brand new characters. No other returning faces here either so no Catherine O’Hara, no Joe Pesci, no Daniel Stern, not even a John Heard. Guess we’ll just have to make do with his showing in Would You Rather? Back during Halloween. We get some familiar characters but they’ve just been re-cast. Peter McCallister was really throwing me off at first, I recognised him from something but just couldn’t place it...

Holy shit, it’s the guy from Monkey Shines! That would make for a much more interesting movie; the psycho monkey defending the house from burglars.

They could have very easily worked a monkey into the movie if they wanted since the story goes that Kevin’s parents are now about to go through a divorce and Peter is shacked up with some rich lady. Rather than face another holiday season being abused by Buzz and Megan, he decides to take his chances with the step mother. And boy, is he ever glad that he did because he gets his own bedroom choc full of gizmos like a giant multi screen television, games consoles, arcade cabinets and computer. Bit of a step up from sleeping in the attic or playing with that Talkboy all the time. That thing seemed really big for what it was, you’d expect a voice recorder to be a sleek little device but you had this fairly big camcorder like unit with a handle and extending microphone that looked like an eyepiece. Maybe kids just like having a substantial toy like that or it was trying to make them feel more grown up to have something camcorder like without the accompanying video technology that wasn’t as ubiquitous and cheap at that time.

He’s not the only one with cool toys to play with as Dad’s new girlfriend, Natalie, has a smart house which seems pretty revolutionary for the year 2002. Like, full on smart house that doesn’t even need a front door key, just take our your little voice remote dealie and give the house an instruction. Open door, play music, turn on the fire...it’s like Alexa 15 years ahead of it’s time. Modern day Chucky would have a field day. It feels like a bit of a wasted opportunity though as it’s not really used as part of the eventual house defense. You’d think there’s a lot of potential there for Kevin to setup traps that he can trigger by saying a keyword but I think the only time it really comes up is when he immediately tells the house the shut the door that one of the burglars open so they promptly get their nose smashed in.

To that end, this is a fairly shoddy setup security wise as it seems to respond to any voice, not just the owners so what you get is the burglars who happen to have their own remote they can use to just stroll into the house. I say burglars, they’re not really, they have greater criminal aspirations; kidnapping. For Natalie has foreign royalty due to stay at the house for the holidays so they figure they can swoop in and kidnap the crown Prince and ransom him off.

And these aren’t just any crooks, for in what is one in a long line of rehashes, it’s Marv! But no Harry, instead it’s Marv’s wife Vera tagging along. Only, Marv is dressed much more like Harry so this is really confusing. Like, there’s this one point after Marv realises that Kevin is staying at this house too, he tells his wife how much trouble this kid has caused and that he has the scars to prove it. I kept expecting him to pull out his hand to show the ‘M’ burned into it but of course that was Harry who scolded his hand on the heated doorknob.

I must say, there’s obviously some big shoes to fill coming in to replace Daniel Stern but I kinda liked French Stewart here as Marv. Maybe they switched the characters to avoid confusion with him already having played a character called Harry in 3rd Rock from the Sun? There’s just this sort of fast paced, talkative energy to him which whilst not entirely fitting for Marv, it did put me in mind of Jim Varney. I feel like he’d do a good job if they ever wanted to do more Ernest type commercials or movies.

We really do get a wider look at the extended Marv family with not only his wife but also his Mother too since, spoiler warning, the movie spends the whole time dropping massive hints that the butler is the one running an inside job and helping out Marv and his missus but it’s actually the maid the whole time who turns out to be Marv’s mum.

I feel like this would have been a cooler plot point if they’d played into it more, like you could this have this whole duality thing where you have Kevin going through these coming of age experiences, no longer the helpless little boy, compared to Marv now going from hardened criminal to having his mum fighting his battles. It could be this elaborate revenge scheme from a mother who has been robbed of her son for years because of Kevin foiling his plans and landing him in jail. He’s the reason she’s got no grandkids!

I mean, between all the jail time and the fact he keeps going for the guys balls, whether he’s shooting them in part 1 or flying a drone into them here. In the end though it’s all just a bit of a coincidence more than anything, she just happened to running this con job in a house where Kevin just happens to end up living in.

There is a really stupid moment here where they lock the butler and Kevin in the wine cellar and the two spend ages pondering how they’re going to get out. The butler then realises he has a cell phone. Now, this is 2002 so these things are becoming much more widespread and writers have to start thinking of ways to write around them. It seems fairly obvious that they’d say “Oh, can’t get a signal down here in the cellar.” or something but no. Instead, he just hands the phone to Kevin who promptly calls home, gets hung up on twice by Buzz before getting through to his mum who suddenly can’t hear him very well despite Buzz hearing him fine. Then the phone’s battery dies despite only being in use for like 2 minutes. Bullshit, this isn’t an iPhone 12 GIGAMAX or whatever the hell they’re on nowadays where the battery runs out after 6 hours, this is the early 2000’s where your Nokia 3310 could last a week off a single charge.

Stupid just kinda sums the whole thing up really. Marv and Vera seem to be lacking in that sense of menace that Harry and Marv had back in the original. Maybe 2 was already taking them a little sillier, that whole electric shock skeleton scene springs to mind, but here there always seems to be goofy music backing them or silly sound effects that make everything feel a lot of childish. I guess they always have been kids movies but it feels especially so here, Harry and Marv just felt a lot more threatening. Probably helped that Pesci had that pedigree of being in all those mobster movies.

It’s cute in a way for them to bring back these characters and reference all these things from the original but it’s just lacking the heart that the first one had. It’s called Home Alone but this isn’t a home, it’s a house. The McCallister house in the first movie just had this warmth to it, all those vibrant colours, the greens and reds, sure it was extravagant but it still felt like a family home whereas this just feels cold and sterile. It has this sort of emptiness that seems so common with the way rich people’s houses are decorated in media. There’s not even a single snowflake in sight either, you call this Chicago?

And just think back to the lengths Kate was willing to go to to get back home to Kevin, “If it costs me everything I own, If I have to sell my soul to the Devil himself, I am going to get home to my son.” The step mother here though couldn’t care less and is prepared to just throw money at the problem until Kevin’s love is bought.

Now that I think about it, it’s called Home Alone but I don’t think there’s a single point in this movie where he’s left Home Alone. He’s either being babysat by Buzz, the butler or the nanny. Well I guess there has been some character growth around t

Of all the re-hashes though, there is one that is particularly alarming...

Goddamnit! They did it again! I’d been safe for years but it just keeps on finding its way back to me. And they can’t even do that tradition right, you’re supposed to play a foreign dubbed version! We’ve already had the French and Spanish versions, where’s the German one?! Though the alternative universe where George isn’t there to save Harry so Harry then can’t save that ship full of American soldiers in WWII is probably considered the good ending there...

#Christmas 2020 #Home Alone #Home Alone 4

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mygreatestgood · 4 years

Text

One Stroll Of Many During COVID-19 (03/22/20)

I went out for a walk this weekend. Because of the virus, the roadways weren’t crowded with its usual hustle & bustle. You could cross every corner with ease, and the whooshing noise of tires against asphalt was strangely minimal and sporadic. The occasional passerby came near, and quickly diverted to their mandated six-feet-away distance. Don’t really know how affective the six-foot rule is when applied to a passerby, but the elderly and middle aged are terrified and I feel for them. No one really smiled in my direction, or acknowledged me, with the exception of two people: a some-odd 80 year old with a walker and a middle aged man who was singing a rock tune aloud for the residents on Summit Avenue to hear.

The season is transitioning into spring, and the smell in the air washed over a feeling of nostalgia. As it does with every change, as the last days of a season slowly dissipate, you can feel the impending linger of the one to follow approaching; the familiar smells of emerging plants, a light breeze floating throughout the air, the sight of new blooming and budding florals and the warmth from sunlight. These things, they tend to cause me to recollect the times I’ve experienced this environment before. It’s been quite a few springtimes since I thought about my previous years during this season as a child. I think it was the emptiness of the roads that led me to remember. And as soon as my memory began its regaling, just as abruptly, I could feel a trace of sadness etching itself throughout my body, magically slaloming its way. I felt like I was remembering something I loved, and deeply realizing that I would never be able to relive that love again. And yeah--no shit. I never will, in the sense that I’m no longer a child and can't time travel back a couple decades. But I wasn’t exactly wishing I could be a child again, or have my youth suddenly reappear.

In the 90′s, and early 2000′s, quality of life was different. My parents moved to the suburbs of New Jersey as it was what they could afford that was in relatively close distance to New York. They were musicians; my dad, a pianist and composer, and my mom, an opera singer. They wanted to do the family thing too, so they also acquired full-time jobs that granted them a steady earning. At the time, New Jersey made sense. It was a reprieve from city life. Life was of a slower pace in this region. We lived in a two-family on one of our town’s main roads that had a large backyard with a small gathering of woods. Stray cats were always making their way through the holes in our fence. We had a patio, complete with a barbecue grill and yellow metal furniture, which sounds heinous, but was surprisingly adorable. There was ample room all along the sides of the yard for my mom to pursue one of her hobbies--gardening--and still, there was leftover space for a swing-set and for my neighbors and I to run around and play a game of kickball.

As a kid, I did things. I rode my scooter to the park to play basketball, and we’d wait for the ice cream truck to sound it’s irritating yet welcoming melody. We’d go to the concession stand near the baseball diamond and get slushies and cheese fries. I would try to learn how to skateboard. The park was always crowded. Everyone from athletic kids to swarms of third and fourth grade girls obsessing over nail polishes and Lip Smackers chapsticks would rally around this place. I could see everyone from babies learning the concept of sand castles, to kids my age from school that I undoubtedly had no desire to run into. I loved walking into the neighboring town and going to the comic book store, or the game zone, where I’d collect pogs and crazy bones and pokemon cards and beanie babies--whatever I happened to be into hoarding at the moment. I’d go to book stores and pick up random young adult novels. I’d go to the movies. I’d go rent movies. There was a roller rink ten minutes away, and every weekend it was the cool place to go and whiz around (or in my instance, hold onto the railing and wall while everyone sped by me) while the edited version of Mase’s current single blasted from the DJ’s speakers. I’d go bowling. I’d visit arcades that weren’t Dave & Buster’s. I loved just being outside, meeting up with friends, walking to go get pizza. Flipping through magazines at the local convenient store. Having slumber parties and shutting the lights off while everyone took a turn at singing karaoke. Everything was an adventure and an all-senses-engaged experience. Even if it was just standing in a store parking lot and talking. Even if it was stealing someone’s aunt’s cigarettes and sneakily trying them behind a building in a schoolyard. Not just because I was young and new to the world, but because everyone was presently living, truly experiencing and sharing one another’s company. Communicating. Discovering commonalities. Making jokes about ideas or things happening in that very moment. Even when I was alone as a kid, I MADE things. I wrote stories, I would film movies on our camcorder and write scripts. I would try to do arts and crafts like things, like make tye-dye shirts or fiddle around with play-dough. I would be immersed in one thing at a time. If my friends and I were stuck hanging out indoors, we would prank call people. We would make up dumb card games or come up with something creative to unpack and figure out together as a team.

Everything has just always felt more loose in the past. Even during high school and college years. House parties were incredible. Yes, nowadays, I do get invited to a house for a “party” but its not the same. It feels more like we’re elitists corresponding over dinner and bottles of wine. There’s no more house parties where you’re meeting a bunch of strangers. There’s no more hosting house parties where you’re wondering, “who the fuck is that in my house playing beer pong?” (I held a couple of those in the mid 2000′s.) The best parties are ones that were an extended invite where you barely know anyone that’s there. I remember how my parents held parties in their 40′s and 50′s and it was so much more lively and energetic. The need to take a photo to put on Facebook has altered that.

Block parties were a thing. Not only throughout my town for children, but in other towns for teenagers and adults. I remember going to one in Mahwah where an entire town house community threw a block party and everyone was running in and out of everyone’s houses. People were dancing in the streets. Liquor and pot were flowing and stinking up everything. And everyone was friendly and receiving--you didn’t have to live in that community to be invited to that event. Where are block parties like that now? We would go play billiards--there was such a thing as a pool hall then. We would go on walks just to get away from our homes and have in-depth conversations about life. We’d find dead-ended roads to smoke pot on. I used to love driving around when the weather would start to make its way towards a warmer climate, and play an upbeat song from my stereo, with the windows rolled down. I didn’t need a place to go. I could just enjoy being, and driving, with the wind knotting my stringy hair and the sun smoldering my legs.

It trickles down to this inescapable feeling that over the last few years, we were not, and are not, really living. Everything is all about social media posting, taking selfies, being a celebrity and voice of the generation in some capacity, or any capacity that any individual can grab ahold of. Physical appearance and beauty has taken things to an insane measure with eyelash extensions, wigs, botox, heavy makeup and more things I’m probably unaware of becoming the norm. None of these statements are new streams of consciousness. I don’t deserve a high five for stating the obvious. I just can’t shake this feeling that as the human race, we are failing to enjoy being alive, in a tremendous amount of aspects. Besides lacking basic communication and abilities to live and experience each other wholly, we also do not experience anything else singularly and in entirety.

There was a time you had to work for things. You made mixed CDs or mixed tapes for people you cared about. Discovering new music and performers was an art form. You’d have to catch a song on the radio, or a music video on television, or scope out and take a chance on an artist by purchasing an album at a record store. The thrill of the hunt is gone with resources like Spotify and Apple music, and with so much accessibility to so many artists, it in someways makes it more daunting to find the diamonds in the rough or those with innovative sounds. People watched movies or television shows without simultaneously being on their phone. (Most people couldn’t wait for their favorite show to air!) People went on vacation and stared at a sunset without feeling the need to snap a photo for an immediate publication. People went out on actual dates instead of meeting their date with all their friends at a club or only getting coffee for 45 minutes. People used to walk around a mall instead of ordering everything online. Shopping was an actual activity that involved your whole body as oppose to just your finger clicking a mouse, or your thumb hitting your phone. People would physically hold books, and turn pages, and smell that “book smell” instead of staring at a screen. People used to go over a friend’s house and not be on their phone. People used to go anywhere and not be on their phone. What the fuck is going to happen to our retinas in the coming years?

Now, in the town I was raised in, the roadways are crowded.

I remember as a kid, staring out the window and watching local residents hop off the bus and walk down our road. Men carrying briefcases and sauntering off as if they were on a mission. There was a guy we called “army man” as he always was fully suited in a camouflage uniform, and marched back and forth daily on our block. Cars would drive by, but it wouldn’t be an endless supply of them. Now, it’s endless. There can be bumper-to bumper traffic on the road in that one-square mile town during certain hours. It’s rare to see people gallivanting the sidewalk today, unless it’s 3 am and they’re a townie staggering home annihilated from the local bar. Or they’re walking their dog, I suppose.

What I’m trying to say is this: I miss the simplicity of being in the moment. I don’t think we all need to mediate and take on yoga to understand how to do that. We just need to hold respect for all the incredible activities, people, experiences and memories we are gifted in this lifetime, and when you respect something, you pay attention to it. We need to pay attention to each other, and ourselves. The need to be alone and completely still became so abundantly clear on this stroll. I walked for an hour and a half. I looked at the houses. I noticed the trees that now had flowers sprouting with undeniable joy. I didn’t let anything cloud my mind except what wanted to swim to the surface. It was the best moment of my day, and given the absurd craziness we’re engulfed with now, quite possibly the best time of my week.

This virus outbreak--it’s terrifying. It’s plaguing not just our country, but the entire world. I cannot speak for how other countries live their day to day, but I can speak from my perspective, and it seems to me that we have run this world tired. It’s depleted, and can no longer rise from it’s crippling plunge. We take our offerings from Earth for granted. We take our gifts from God for granted. We take each other for granted. We now deem everything as urgent, and need everything to be so nonsensically fast. The deaths of those we love come across as a consequence of our actions. It is a wakeup call, and a call to action at that. And by action, I don’t mean make a post to create awareness--take action by literally changing and reverting ourselves back to a more minimalistic and simple way of life. Happiness shouldn’t stem from items, the ego or entrepreneurship--happiness derives from that indescribable satisfaction of doing nothing. Of being. Of taking risks and reveling in the company of those whom you wish to keep.

I can’t visit my parents or my family dog, and I miss them. We are waiting to hear if a family friend has passed away from this virus. It is scary and sad to think it hit him so rapidly, and that he arrived at the hospital alone, and potentially died alone with no visitors and no one surrounding him. This is a horrible catastrophe and I can’t understand the reasoning behind it. But I so want to believe that something beautiful will be built from this gloomy and discouraging time. I so want to believe that as people we have the power to take these ruins and make life more graceful and resplendent than it was before.

Despite my wanting, it’s evident that we all need to.

Please stay safe. Prayers up. xo

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10oclockdot · 7 years

Photo

Intermission

(a free response to my favorite tumblr piece in ages: Aphelis's Seven Samurai Interrupted, an exploration of the ontology of the intermission)

2001. "I'm not so sure what he'd think about it," says the astronaut. And then, a vertiginous surprise, like something holding us up just fell away: White noise, The 2.35:1 frame irised down to a peephole, Telephoto, POV, panning: through HAL's eyes as he reads their lips. The moment of consciousness. But then, a more vertiginous surprise: A deeper, more silent void than even outer space: A black screen, outside the narrative. Fade in:

The mind races--- wait, no, wait-- NO! A film floating glacially, reel after reel, suddenly bursting with intrigue only to be shut off, suspended, abandoned, adrift, uncertain... But in the audience, a hundred virtual guess-movies still play.

Early 1990's. When I was a kid, my mom sometimes rented The Great Race or It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World for me and my sister. Two very silly films that came on two VHS's each. I remember there being overtures, exit music, intermissions. I remember pressing fast-forward. In the VHS era, we made our own intermissions.

(The Great Race and It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World were long films. Now I wonder whether my mom chose them to give herself a long intermission from me.)

1996. The first tape of The Right Stuff ended with Glenn saying, "I plan on being the first man to ride the rocket." The second tape began with a montage of test rocket failures. Convenient, since that's the only part I really wanted to watch. Had there been an intermission there, cut for the tape? Wikipedia tells me The Right Stuff had an intermission. I check my blu-ray, but I can't find one. Where had it been? Where has it gone? Was this the erasure of an absence or of a presence?

Wiki tells me that Fantasia had an intermission, too. I don't remember it. I do remember, however, that my parents always fast-forwarded through the dinosaur part and the Bacchus part the rare once or twice we watched it. Drinking was bad, those were false gods, evolution was a lie. Like I said, we made our own intermissions.

2004. In college, I watched Persona for the first time on possibly the worst VHS tape ever made. A 16mm transfer that might as well have been made by pointing a camcorder at the screen, with white on white subtitles. Partway in, the action abruptly stopped and a card appeared on screen reading, “Please wait a moment while we change reels.” I remember it taking about a minute.

2007. In grad school, I TA'd for an introductory film history class. The Birth of a Nation was, of course, pure suffering for all the students in that 150-person room. (Seriously, everybody. If you must teach Griffith in Intro to Film, figure out the learning goal. Continuity editing? The Lonedale Operator. Poetry? The Country Doctor and maybe The Musketeers of Pig Alley. Film as fine art? Intolerance. Lillian Gish's acting? Broken Blossoms. If you want to talk about the racism, show scenes, but don't waste the 3 hours.)

Anyway. I've heard laughs during Keaton and shrieks during Un Chien Andalou and even a hushed gasp at the end of Citizen Kane. But I've never heard as pained or as abject a moan as the one that issued from every mouth in that room when the title card told them:

2009. A road trip to the Wexner Center in Columbus, Ohio, to see Jennifer Reeves's When It Was Blue play on film, from two projectors hitting the same screen. A hallucinatory Brakhagian ocular explosion for over an hour, except for a few minutes in the middle when both projectors were turned off. Black screen, dark theater. Big, lush music played. An intermission? No one left their seats. A pause to change reels? But the experience continued as the music played, and I kept my eyes trained ahead. What was it, then? It was my favorite part.

2012. A last-minute road trip up to Ann Arbor, Michigan to see one of the rehearsal performances of Philip Glass's opera Einstein on the Beach. It's an over-five-hour affair: 4 acts plus 5 "knee plays" designed as bookends and links between the acts. But the Knee Plays are not intermissions. Instead, the audience is invited to create their own intermission wherever they need it. I never left my seat. Neither did any of the other music nerds I went with.

2015. Chicago, for the 70mm Hateful Eight roadshow. The theater was packed with drunk, agitated people. The overture didn't shut them up. The intermission didn't calm them down. I was willing to believe that the film was building to something; but the second half proved me wrong. Over three hours of meaningless cruelty, pointless bloviation, gratuitous bloodshed. Like the film stock itself, was the intermission simply a compensatory gesture? The act of a filmmaker trying to make a bad project seem important? My friends and I talked about it for hours. We couldn't save it.

(Then again, maybe The Hateful Eight just came out a year too early. After the 2016 election, a meditation on hate and division, especially a grotesque, unredeeming one, feels timely.)

My parents voted for Trump. They'd always been Evangelical Christians (Cruz was their candidate) and they raised me as one. I don't know whether I resent their vote more for its idiocy, its bigotry, or for its absolute nullification of their values. I left the church for good around 2010. My mom still believes I'll come back.

My dad and I built model rockets together when I was a kid, but we gave it up when I went to college. We said goodbye to the hobby and figured it was all over. But it turns out it was just a break; a couple years ago we got back into it. I think that return gives my mom hope that one day I'll "find my way back" to the church. The Evangelical allegiance to Trump convinces me again that there's nothing to come back to.

2000. dc Talk, the biggest Christian band of the 90s, announced their indefinite hiatus with a greatest hits album called "Intermission." As the years went by, the intermission stretching ever longer, I sometimes pondered whether that name was a put-on. The Eagles in reverse: They didn't take a vacation, they broke up. Now I learn that dc Talk is getting back together in 2017 to play a single Caribbean cruise. Looks like there was nothing to come back to.

2007. I watched the 1965 film The Bedford Incident, which ends with the accidental launch of a nuclear missile, then white noise.

I was so furious at this ending that for years I fantasized about teaching a screenwriting class in which I would assign the students to replace "The End" with "Intermission" and write treatments for the "second half" of the movie. Where intermissions do not exist, it becomes necessary to invent them.

Because what is an intermission? It's a signpost on a journey. You're halfway there. It's a reminder of artifice: that the story was designed. Fear not, the artist is in control, and the artist will lead you back out. It's terror (because we do not yet know) but also hope (because someone does).

Mittere: to let go. Inter: between. Intermission: to let go of something, but only for a time; that is, "between" holding it and picking it back up again.

The intermission is eschatological. It proclaims, this is NOT the end. This is just a break. For two millennia, Christianity has been in intermission, awaiting the Second Coming. The second act. The intermission proclaims that an absence is really a presence. That a designer left a gap here for a purpose. That it's not just meaningless silence. "I am going there to prepare a place for you."

Where intermissions do not exist, it becomes necessary to invent them.

#intermission

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