Saying Good-bye and Good Riddance to 2016

Let me start by saying that I have always hated New Year’s Eve. Of all the potentially depressing nights of the year, it rises above the rest as the cream of the crop. When I was younger I went to parties on this night with my family and then as I got older with friends, but it just seemed like insanity to me to wait until that ball dropped in Times Square (and no matter where I have been over all these years someone always manages to have a TV on with coverage of the ball dropping) and then scream, shout, and sing the song “Auld Lang Syne” for which I know not the words or the meaning of them.

I have never understood the reason why everyone was celebrating the fact that we all got a year older; however, since 2016 has been such a depressing year for everyone, I might spin a noisemaker or toot a horn just to get 2016 out the door because in my lifetime I have never wanted a year to end more than this one.

The losses of famous people this year have been staggering – sometimes it seemed like one after the other like dominoes. These deaths have affected people in different ways, but mostly it is the sense of our inability to process how so many icons could be lost in such a short time span. However, an interesting CNN report breaks down the 2016 losses in categories like sports, music, acting, etc. and shows how there have been some worse years for losses than 2016.

Since we lived through this year most recently and are dealing with emotions here, these facts don’t seem to matter that much. The losses of 2016 have taken a toll on our collective consciousness, and it is difficult to see how we can be assuaged with thoughts of other years being worse. The reason why the loss of these very public figures hurts so much is because each of us sees their passing away in a deeply personal way.

The year kicked off badly for me with Wayne Rogers passing away. He played Trapper John on the TV series M*A*S*H for the first three seasons of its run, and I felt this one especially since I had been a fan of the show and of Rogers particularly. Even though the series would go on eight more seasons without him, I always enjoyed the episodes that he appeared in the most.

I suppose that the loss of Rogers was a foreshadowing of the losses to follow. I could put a list here of all the people who passed away since January 1, but there are many of these lists available online that give details about each person lost, and this makes it easier for people to search for those lost who mattered most to them.

In a year with so many people lost, the accumulated heft of their passing weighs on our minds. We realize mortality is for everyone – even those we hold in such high regard. Some of these losses hit me harder than others, so here is my very subjective list of losses that affected me the most:

Acting

Kenny Baker: played R2-D2 in Star Wars films

Carrie Fisher: played Princess Leia in Stars Wars films

Anton Yelchin: Chekhov in recent Star Trek films, gone way too soon

Gene Wilder: star of one of my all-time favorite films Young Frankenstein

Alan Rickman: Snape in the Harry Potter films and Hans in Die Hard

Florence Henderson: played everyone’s favorite Mom – Mrs. Brady

Music

George Martin: more the “5^th Beatle” than anyone else

Glenn Frey: creative force behind The Eagles

David Bowie: iconic and innovative singer

Paul Kanter: of Jefferson Airplane and Starship

Prince: the one and only

Sports

Jose Fernandez: Marlins’ pitcher gone way too soon

Muhammad Ali: truly the “Greatest” boxer of all time

Arnold Palmer: indeed the master of the golfing world

Tray Walker: NFL player – another gone way too soon

Writers

Harper Lee: her To Kill a Mockingbird is one of my favorite books.

W.P. Kinsella: his book inspired one of my favorite films Field of Dreams.

Elie Wiesel: Holocaust survivor and recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize

Edward Albee: legendary playwright

Public Figures

John Glenn: astronaut and U.S. Senator

Gwen Ifill: newscaster

John MacLaughlin: newscaster

Morely Safer: legendary 60 Minutes reporter

I know that we lost many more people this year, but these were the ones that stopped me cold each time I heard the news of their passing away. Some of them I looked up to as a kid or admired as an adult. In some cases the things they accomplished in life impressed me or left an impression on me, and some of their work changed me or touched me forever.

Now that they are gone the world is a darker place. Besides losing so many amazing people, we had the acrimonious presidential campaign, the post- election rancor, the ongoing horror in Syria, the continuing battle against ISIS, and plenty of assorted other matters to worry about. In short, 2016 really sucked.

Tonight at midnight I will say nothing like a fond farewell to 2016; instead, I will kick its ass out the door, while welcoming the little infant 2017 with all the warmth I can muster. Here’s hoping that 2017 is an infinitely better year for one and all.

Flash Fiction: A Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart

The old woman sits inside her stone house built on top of a mountain; she is lost in thoughts about the past, and says a prayer not for herself but for those she remembers who are gone but she still loves.

Sometimes it seems her father Joaquin is in the room with her, staring down as he once did at her in their old home in Nazareth. Her mother Anne appears too, not old as she remembers her, but young as when she was a child.

Now she is so far away from there out of necessity, and although she wishes to return she knows that she is too frail for the journey. A knock comes to the door, and she struggles to stand and answer it.

Once she pulls back the door, she is happy to see John, who quickly removes the hood of his robe. “Mother Mary,” he says, “it’s so good to see you.”

Mary takes his hand and he helps her back inside; she drops onto her chair and leans on the table. John puts down his pack and takes the pitcher of water and pours some into a cup. He sits across from her and she sees the sweat on his brow.

“Dear John,” she says softly, “you always come back to me.”

“Yes, Mother, as I always promise each time I leave.”

“Your work is important,” she says. “No one knows that more than I do.”

He grabs her hand and squeezes it gently. “Yes, I know.”

“Do you bring news of home?” she asks hopefully.

John’s expression alerts her to what he will say. “Things are not good now. I was there briefly, but always had to be extremely careful. It is worse than when we left so long ago. The Romans are making life difficult for everyone.”

Mary shivers when she thinks of the Romans and what they did to her son. She recalls kneeling on the dusty rocks on Skull Hill and looking up at Jesus’s broken body on the cross, her heart almost exploding with the pain.

And then she remembers the old man in the temple and looks up at John. “I must tell you a story.”

John sips his water and smiles, “I always love to hear your stories, Mother.”

“Well, this one is about an old man named Simeon. When Joseph and I brought Jesus to the Temple in Jerusalem for presentation, this man was there. After the circumcision we heard him shouting, ‘Where is he?’ The old man then came up to us and within seconds he had taken the baby from my arms and held him up high.”

“You did not know this man, Mother?”

“No, John, we had never seen him before, but he was one with the Lord because he said that the baby’s coming had been foretold to him. He said that he could die contented now. Simeon called him ‘a light of revelation to the Gentiles, and glory to your people Israel.’ Many people in the temple, especially the priests, all looked at him as if he was mad, but Joseph and I glanced at one another knowingly.”

“The Lord revealed these things to him and he was happy,” John says.

“Yes, but he knew even more.” Mary puts a hand on her chest. “He gave the baby back to me and stared at me with tears in his eyes. He said, ‘And a sword shall pierce your heart.’ At the time I did not understand, and for all these years I had forgotten, but now I know how much Simeon knew. Oh, how he knew!”

Tears fall down her cheeks and John squeezes her hand. “Oh, Mother, you know the greatest of pain but also the greatest of joys.”

Mary stares at him and sees him looking at her so lovingly, as he has since the day Jesus hung on the cross and declared John to be her son and for her to be his mother. “I still ache, John; I still feel such sadness, and now I remember how it was foretold.”

“I’m sorry for your pain.”

“When he was a little boy, I did everything to care for him, to protect him. If he came back from playing with the other boys with a bump or bruise, or came home with scrapped knees or a splinter, I cried as I cleaned his wounds. I wanted to keep him safe always, never knowing God’s full plan.”

“The Lord knew you were a good mother, and how could he reveal this to you and expect you to go on?”

Mary struggles to stand and breathe as she says, “He asked me to have his child and I faced all the fear I thought I would ever have. If I had known that my child would suffer so, would….”

John stands and embraces her. “Mother, you would not have it any other way.”

Mary looks up at his face and finds strength in his eyes. “Yes, you are right, of course, John.”

He kisses her forehead. “I must go now to meet Paul down in Ephesus, but I will be back to see you tomorrow.”

“Please be careful.”

“I always am, Mother.”

She watches him leave; she has watched them all come and go – her son’s closest friends 

who now continue to do his work. She knows they’re all in danger, which is why John brought her to this secluded place.

Mary pushes herself to walk outside. Her house is surrounded by sentinels of lush trees, but as she goes to the path a view down the mountain reveals rolling hills, the road to Ephesus, and the bright blue sea in the distance.

She watches John walking briskly down the road that if taken in the other direction leads to Jerusalem – a place to which she can never return. She prays to her son to keep him and the others safe, hoping that no swords will pierce her heart ever again.

A Christmas Dilemma: To Give or Not to Give Gift Receipts

Christmas means different things to people all over the world. Some see it as one of the holiest days because it is Jesus Christ’s birthday, for which we are told three kings (or wise men if you prefer) brought gifts to honor him. Others see it as a day when Santa Claus comes to give children gifts. Adults also exchange gifts as a sign of love and caring for one another, so the concept of gift giving is inextricably linked to the holiday.

One element of gift giving that has become increasingly disturbing and a bit annoying in recent years is the aspect known as the gift receipt. This concept immediately signifies that a gift is returnable, which means the giver of the gift is not certain you will like it. Now, perhaps, that is not the gift giver’s real intention, but it sort of feels that way, and knowing that the receiver of the gift desires that gift receipt also changes the dynamic of buying the gift in the first place.

How have we come to this place in giving of gifts is uncertain for me. Can you imagine Santa coming down the chimney with his big bag of gifts and toys worrying about having a gift receipt for each? No, the Jolly Old Elf would find it unacceptable that toys made at the North Pole could be returned, nor that too small sweater or the handbag that in no way matches your personality or taste. Santa expects us to suck it up, say “How lovely,” and move on to the next present.

Many years ago when I worked in a department store, we set up a special return desk for the day after Christmas. The only requirements for customers were the items had to still have tags and the gift boxes or store bags. The returns were processed and the customers were given an exchange or store credit. In this way the giver of the gift never had to know that the receiver was unhappy with it – an old fashioned process that was infinitely more civilized and easier on both parties.

Unfortunately, we have moved beyond the gentility of giving and receiving gifts gracefully. Now we have the mentality that matches our throwaway culture – gifts are expendables and so you better have given a gift receipt! It puts the giver in a bind way before the gift is ever wrapped and presented.

Shopping this year made me extremely nervous and was quite stressful. It is bad enough that before Christmas the department stores are mad houses filled with people with eyes bulging out of their heads as they roam the aisles like zombies from The Walking Dead looking for the last scraps of flesh in the form of items on the shelves. As I held a potential gift in my hand and considered the possibilities of giving it to someone, an old lady nudged me with her elbow and asked, “Are you gonna buy that or not?” Yes, it was the last one on the shelf, and my indecision and her query came together to make the choice easier – I just handed it to her and went on my way.

Of course, after braving the wilds of the aisles in each store, the next indignity is waiting on the long lines to get to a cashier. If you are in a store that does not provide shopping carts like Walmart or Target, you are forced to hold all your items in your arms, making the passing of time by looking at your cell impossible.

As I stood there with my arms brimming over with gifts on an interminably long line, I kept thinking that I should avoid this ordeal and buy everything online as so many people do; however, I am still of the mindset of being able to touch an item before purchase, to feel its heft, and to examine its quality. This is impossible online no matter how many images are available. Then, when I finally get to the counter with purchases, I get asked the most pressing question – “Do you need gift receipts?” This year, despite my trepidation about the concept, I said a resounding “Yes” and got gift receipts for everything I purchased, even if something for me was mixed in with everything else.

After all that shopping warfare was over, then it was time to come home and wrap the gifts. I am not a good wrapper of presents to be sure. I recall watching my mother and aunt wrap Christmas presents with the precision of surgeons – the cutting, folding, and taping of gift paper all seemed perfect every time. For me it is sort of like making a bed, and even after I have tried to measure, cut, and tape, the present looks as if someone is still sleeping in it.

Nevertheless, before doing this I faced what felt like a moral dilemma – should I put the gift receipt inside the box or not? One possibility I considered was just keeping all gift receipts separately for each person and handing them over after opening gifts had been accomplished; however, I decided that idea was even more awkward. So, yes, despite my trepidation, I did put the gift receipt into each box under the internal tissue paper and item, almost as if I didn’t want it to be discovered by the recipient.

During the frenzy of opening presents with so many people in the room, other people kept saying, “The gift receipt is in the box.” Thus I developed a plan – I would I refrain from making this statement as I watched people opening my gifts, waiting for a reaction – elation would be met with silence, but vacant stares or troubled expressions would be followed with, “There’s a gift receipt in there.” Of course, this plan was thwarted by everyone seemingly opening boxes at once; therefore, I had to start opening my own gifts and could not concentrate on what anyone else was doing.

In the end I got gift receipts for all my received presents, and I was relieved to have one for a hoodie I would never wear, but I still felt bad about it because I am sure that the person who bought it really thought I would be happy to have it. Then again, is the inclusion of a gift receipt just a fail-safe mechanism or is it a coded message that the giver thinks the recipient will not like the gift?

Perhaps I am overthinking the whole process, but I still go back to the reason for giving gifts – we are showing that we love and care for people. That equation is one of magnanimity and certainly should not be treated with disdain but rather gratitude. I am not sure if giving a gift receipt is worse than expecting it or not, but I sure as hell wish we could get back to a time when we didn’t have to give a gift receipt, which is like announcing that giver believes the gift may not be right for you.

This whole Christmas gift giving tradition started with those three kings/wise men giving Jesus gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Ostensibly, these were truly birthday gifts given with honor, respect, and love. The concept of Santa Claus giving gifts derives from this event, and in that way parents all over the world become imbued with Santa’s spirit and give their children presents. We adults have joined in on the practice, and it should be noted that the old “it is better to give than to receive” is still an adage that feels damned good to follow.

I wish we could get back to a time when gift giving itself was simple and less tenuous – when a gift given in love would be cherished rather than returned, but I doubt we can go back now. Of course, there is also the long tried and true tradition of re-gifting that is still in full vigor (I know because I got one present this year that had the old name tag taped on the box underneath the new wrapping paper), but that is a whole other story.

For now we live in a world where giving and receiving gifts with gift receipts is a reality, and no matter how much I detest it, I have to live with it. Now, where is that ugly hoodie? I’m taking that back right away!

Flash Fiction: A Phantom Menace – Santa and the Attack of the Drones

Santa Claus stared at the large computer screen over the shoulder of Head Elf Flick, with Cookie, his wife of almost 1000 years, standing by his side. They watched a video showing a drone dropping off packages on house doorsteps.

Cookie rubbed his belly and said, “Nick, dear, don’t let this upset you.”

Flick giggled, “Yeah, Santa, so they can deliver packages faster than us. Who cares?”

Santa lifted a hand, raised Flick from the chair, and slammed him against the wall without touching the elf. Flick fell to the floor moaning as Santa said, “Don’t test my patience again.”

“Yes, Santa,” Flick moaned.

“Oh, Nick, you never used your powers to hurt anyone before,” Cookie said.

Santa staggered until he fell onto his red velvet throne. “I am sorry, Flick. I just lost it.”

Flick stood up, brushed himself off, and adjusted his pointy hat. “I understand, Santa. I should know this isn’t funny.”

Cookie said, “Dear, you’ve known about this drone thing for years.”

“Yes, of course, I’ve encountered them, but it was nothing like this.”

Flick sat down in front of the computer again. “Many companies are using delivery drones, but the one giving us the most competition is The Kringle Express.”

“They dare use the word ‘Kringle’ in their name?” Santa roared as he leapt off the throne and stomped over to Flick. He saw the image of the box with the hat that looked very similar to his own. “And they dare to appropriate my hat as their logo?” Santa’s cheeks became enflamed but he controlled his temper. “Who is the head of this company?”

“I guess you want to put him on the Naughty List,” Flick giggled.

Santa stroked his beard. “Uh, you can say that.”

Flick did a quick search and said, “Seems the CEO is very cloak and dagger. He keeps his head and body covered in long robes and wears dark sunglasses in public. The name is Lucas Winter.”

“Hmm, I don’t recall ever delivering toys to him as a boy.”

Cookie started toward the kitchen and said, “I’m going to make your favorite Christmas Eve snack before you depart, Nick.”

Santa sighed and Flick asked, “What’s wrong, Santa?”

“Usually I love Cookie’s midnight soup, but not this Christmas Eve!”

Flick pushed a button and, after a series of beeps, handed Santa his iPhone 7 plus. “Your itinerary is plotted for tonight, Santa; please try to have a good journey.”

Santa put a firm hand on Flick’s shoulder. “I’m going to leave a little early this year.” He glanced at the kitchen door. “Let Cookie know I had to take care of some business.”

“That Winter guy?” Flick asked clapping his hands. Santa put a finger to his lips and took the elevator to go down to the reindeer paddock.

*

Along the journey to the northern California home of Lucas Winter, Santa encountered several of The Kringle Express drones. Using his newly installed Laser Cannon 360, he quickly incinerated each one. “So much for them!” Santa chuckled.

The reindeer quietly pranced onto the roof of the palatial home set on 25 acres overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Santa pressed a blue button, and the sleigh landed silently.

As Santa headed toward the chimney, lead reindeer Dasher asked, “Santa, why don’t you have your bag?”

Santa said, “This kid is on the Naughty List.” He descended the chimney, extinguishing the fire until he stepped away from the mantel. He heard someone clapping and turned to see a cloaked figure in the corner.

“I’ve been expecting you,” the familiar voice said.

Santa twisted his fingers and the lights came on in the dark room. “I know you were; I was counting on it.”

“I see you still have a few parlor tricks, Nicholas of Myra.” The figure removed its cloak and revealed a jewel-encrusted image.  “But then, so do I.”

“You’ve tried to ruin Christmas for centuries.” Santa said.

The creature walked toward Santa on long legs with cloven feet. “Why should I endure a huge birthday party for my chief adversary?”

“Lucifer, you‘ve always failed because Christmas spirit is stronger than your hatred.”

“Not this year,” Lucifer said, moving toward the window and opening the black curtains with flurry of long, scaly fingers. “Behold, the way I’ll defeat you this year – millions of Kringle Express drones ready to take away your thunder!”

In the last rays of light from the sunset, Santa saw the drones loaded with packages spread across the acres of the property. He turned to Lucifer and howled, “You cannot do this!’

Lucifer chuckled, “But I am doing it. Soon the air will be flooded with my drones, and the children of the world will forget Santa Claus.”

Santa stroked his long white beard. “You have miscalculated as usual.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lucifer snapped.

Santa walked toward the fireplace, turned, and took something out of his pocket. “Almost forgot your present.” He threw a lump of coal toward Lucifer who caught it in his webbed hand.

Santa ascended the chimney and got in the sleigh. Soon he and the reindeer were aloft, and they observed the millions of drones rising into the sky like a flock of buzzing locusts.

Santa glanced at his laser cannon, but instead stood, raised his arms, and invoked the power given to him centuries ago – a gift from the One far greater than Lucifer, a fact that the cursed one had yet to grasp after countless millennia.

The power shot out from Santa’s white-gloved hands, causing all of the drones to waver in flight. As he brought his hands together in one thunderous clap, the drones all battered and rammed one another, every one of them exploding before plummeting to the ground.

Santa saw the moon rise over the ocean, sat down, and grabbed the reins. “We have work to do, lads – so dash away all!” Santa steered the sleigh across the sky to begin the journey that would take them all night.

Movie Review: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story – A Slice Empire Pie with a Dollop of Some Hope

 Since this film is considered part of the Star Wars canon with it also being dubbed a standalone story, viewers must consider the ramifications of what is learned as well as the implications of what is not. I am not going to go into spoiler territory here, but there are some surprises along the way despite there being one glorious problem – we already know the ending of the story. With the box office exploding this first weekend the film is in theaters, it doesn’t seem to be presenting any problems for Disney thus far.

People have gone to see movies before when they already knew the ending – everyone knew the Titanic was going to sink, but that didn’t stop anyone from going to see Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in the film because the story surrounding the sinking mattered more than the ship actually hitting that iceberg. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story has the quest to steal the Death Star plans as its central story; we already know from Star Wars IV that this deed is accomplished, but the characters (led by a tenacious Felicity Jones as Jyn Erso) are compelling enough for us to go along for the ride.

All the while watching the film with my seven year old son (a more avid Star Wars fan than I it seems at times), he kept asking when we were going to see Darth Vader (again voiced by the incomparable James Earl Jones) and then when he does finally show up, instead of a menacing visage we get an answer to a question I long wanted answered – how does old Darth take a shower?

That said Vader does then appear in a much more frightening moment, confronting Director Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn as the new villain in this film). Krennic’s obvious competition with a recognizable Star Wars face in the form Grand Moff Tarkin (more about him later) spells trouble for him as Vader gives Krennic the invisible force chokehold as a convincer to get his act together.

Felicity Jones does a great job as the leader of a rag-tag group who take it on themselves to steal the Death Star plans after the rebel council declines to pursue the dangerous mission. This group includes Captain Cassian Andor (a solid Diego Luna), former Imperial pilot Bodhi (a terrific Riz Ahmed), droid K-2SO (voiced by Alan Tudyk as a wise-cracking but action hero alternative to the stolid C-P30), and super duo Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus (Donnie Yen and Wen Jiang). Along with some of Andor’s ready to rumble rebel buddies, they steal an impounded Imperial ship and as they fly off on their mission Bodhi christens it Rogue One.

That these totally new characters can capture our attention and bring us along on their journey with interest is a credit to director Gareth Edwards and writers Chris Weitz and Tony Gilroy. While there are many nods to the Star Wars fans throughout (and even a couple of surprise cameos of old favorites), the central focus remains on the new characters and their dogged efforts to get those Death Star plans. Since most of the film’s action takes place a few days before the events of A New Hope, we get a good idea about how dark and evil a place the galaxy has become in the years since Revenge of the Sith.

There are many great action sequences throughout, and this is the first Star Wars film to really emphasize the “war” factor of the title – we get lots of combat and casualties on both sides. Against more than staggering odds Jyn, Cassian, and company push forward with individual motivations. Jyn’s back story adds complexity to the mix – her father Galen (Mads Mikkelsen) was a scientist who had a hand in creating the Death Star. Scenes of her as a little girl are reminiscent of Rey’s (Daisy Ridley) in last year’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens, and make us wonder why all our heroes in this galaxy are either orphans or from fractured families.

As is expected in any Star Wars film, the battle scenes, space sequences, and vistas of numerous alien worlds are exceptionally realized, this time by cinematographer Greig Fraser, and the stirring music by Michael Giacchino swells and flows appropriately to accompany the many visual delights. It goes without saying that some of John Williams’s iconic score comes into play in the Darth Vader scenes, and it’s difficult not to feel that same unsettled but welcome feeling as he stomps into a scene.

Now to get to the eerie inclusion of Grand Moff Tarkin (so memorably played by the late Peter Cushing in A New Hope), the computer effects are such that he is inserted into the film almost flawlessly, except for the fact that Cushing died in 1994 kept gnawing away at me. Audiences know it can be done now and seem to accept the use of a deceased actor in this manner, and my son had no clue that Cushing was dead until I told him later on, yet there is something disturbing about it even though Tarkin has to be there on the Death Star at that moment because it would not make sense otherwise.

Besides the Tarkin issue, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story is a fine addition to the growing Star Wars canon. We know that Disney has plans for many more of these lucrative adventures, including a film about a young Han Solo. Since the appetite for Star Wars related projects seems insatiable (my son and I devour the TV series Star Wars Rebels as proof of that hunger), there will be no end in sight for tales from a long time ago in a galaxy quite far way. All I can say to Disney about that is “May the force be with you.”

TV Review: The Walking Dead – Midseason Finale Almost Saves Season 7

*This review contains spoilers.

Since season seven’s premiere episode – the one in which we witness Negan (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) bash in the heads of two beloved characters, Glenn (Steven Yeun) and Abraham (Michael Cudlitz) – The Walking Dead has been in its own death spiral. For a series that I (and millions of others) have loved to watch, it has been a struggle each week to stay tuned (and ratings have plunged). I have been hoping that things will get better, but each week they get worse.

Now don’t get me wrong; I am still a fan – mostly because I am invested in Rick (the amazing Andrew Lincoln) and Carol (equally amazing Melissa McBride) and also terrific Daryl (Norman Reedus), Morgan (Lennie James), Michonne (Danai Gurira), and the rest. I want to see them move ahead and perhaps find some kind of peace and happiness.

But as a fan of Kiefer Sutherland in 24, I know that dark, tragic dramas like these rarely bring the characters there. His Jack Bauer has about three minutes of normalcy with his family in episode one/season one and then never experiences it again throughout the series. We don’t go to see Hamlet or Othello and expect the titular characters to be waltzing off into the sunset with Ophelia and Desdemona respectively, because tragedies never end that way.

TWD is in essence an extended TV tragedy, and if that is the case then following Rick since he woke up in the hospital in season one/episode one means that we are inevitably going to see what we don’t wish to see. With that said, the series creator and executive producer Robert Kirkman, the writers, and showrunner Scott Gimple have played around with us with abandon. They seem to believe that they have us hook, line, and sinker, and there is nothing that we can do about it. Alas, they don’t know how close I have been (and other people I know) to tuning out permanently.

So we have been treated to seven difficult to watch episodes leading up to this midseason finale. Being that it is TWD and we know that we will not see Rick and company again until February, we are usually left with a slam-bang episode that keeps us wanting more. This eighth episode almost gets us there, but just not quite all the way.

Maggie (Lauren Cohan) increases her chances for leadership at the Hilltop, Rick and Aaron (Ross Marquand ) get to swim in a lake full of walkers in order to gather supplies to please Negan; Michonne takes one of Negan’s women on a ride to the gates of the Sanctuary planning to kill him, Rosita (Christian Serratos in her best performance in the series) takes a shot at Negan with her one bullet, Morgan and Carol get a visit from one of the Kingdom’s soldiers asking to help lead an attack on Negan, and Daryl actually escapes from his jail cell. There is so much going on in this episode in an attempt to bring together all the season’s meandering stories, but while some of it is satisfying it also feels as if Gimple is trying to push too many threads through the eye of a needle.

The problem is that after spending eight episodes establishing just how bad Negan is and how everyone must fear him, I am longing for the Governor or even the Termites. Nothing against Morgan, who has done good work here, but the way the writers have gone about building him up has been more than irritating – did we have to have the threatening scene in the kitchen with Carl (Chandler Riggs), baby Judith, and doomed Olivia (Ann Mahoney)? By also simultaneously breaking Rick down to almost nothing, there has been no hope or anything to really keep us watching.

Toward the end of this episode we start getting glimmers of hope. Daryl escapes and reunites with Rick (and even gives him back the gun Negan had taken away from him). Everyone is smiling at the Hilltop, locking arms and hugging in a reunion of sorts, and there is a sense that now Rick has got his spine reinserted in his body and he will be able to get back to what Rick does best – kicking some ass.

If you have read the comics like I have you know what is coming – and I hate to break it to you – but there is a hell of a lot more of Negan in the forecast, and I am talking multiple seasons perhaps; however, I do not think the TV version of TWD can withstand that as it is written in the comics.

Now, of course, the TV TWD has certainly veered away from the source material many times. Characters who are still alive in the comics are dead on the series (like Andrea), and Daryl does not even exist in the comics, so there has to be hope that Gimple, Kirkman, and company realize the TV fans need something very different than the readers of the comics.

One thing is very clear after watching these eight episodes of season seven – Negan has to go. The way he is being portrayed may be keeping close to the source material (probably way too close actually), but the patience of the TV viewer is way shorter than the comic book readers. Negan has worn out his welcome, and we can only hope that Kirkman and Gimple realize this and give us a satisfying ending to season seven (unlike the terribly unsatisfying ending to season six).

So we already get that the Kingdom, the Hilltop, and the Alexandrians are all going to have to join forces to confront and defeat Negan. It will not be easy at first getting everyone on board in all the communities (and I fear a long, drawn out process), but from what these people are experiencing there is no other alternative and perhaps a quicker move to resolution will be found.

In this episode Rosita had the passion and spunk to try to kill Negan. After the bullet gets lodged in his barbed-wire covered baseball bat, affectionately called Lucille by the maniac, Negan asks her incredulously, “Did you just try to kill me?” This has to border on the most absurd rhetorical question because either Negan is living in a solipsistic world or all his cards are not in the deck. Yes, Negan, she tried to kill you – almost everyone hates you and wants to kill you, even your own people.

After a not so friendly outdoor game of billiards, Negan guts Spencer (Austin Nichols) for being a sniveling rat and turning on Rick, and then he has one of his people randomly shoot anyone, which turns out to be poor Olivia, who has endured ridicule and abuse from Negan and then gets a bullet in the head. These deaths, while rather inconsequential to the fans, are monumental in giving Rick a slap to the face worthy of Cher in Moonstruck – it is about time Rick snapped out of it!

It is difficult for any series to keep going as long as TWD has, and the fact that the cast has become so bloated makes it hard to give any of the tertiary characters meaningful arcs. If the impending conflict should do anything (besides remove Negan from the planet) it will probably wipe out many of these extraneous characters and bring us back to the core group that we care about most of all.

The real question is how long can Kirkman, Gimple, and company sustain the story line. Yes, there are copious amounts of comic pages to work with, but I wonder how much of it is truly translatable to the TV series. The more they take stories from the source material (including some verbatim dialogue) the less inclined many of us feel a need to keep watching.

I am cautiously optimistic that the rest of season seven may be much better than the first half. If Rick gets his act together and the others follow, maybe we can have a war that will eventually eradicate the Negan menace. I am not certain Kirkman and Gimple want to give up Negan all that quickly, but if they do not I don’t know if I (and many other viewers judging from what I have been hearing and reading) will be along for the ride. Season six ended with Negan bashing in the head of someone we cared about; here’s hoping that season seven ends with Rick keeping his promise to kill Negan, preferably with that hatchet.

Celebrating The 70th Anniversary of It’s a Wonderful Life – Its Indelible Spirit Never Grows Old

Seneca Falls, New York - perhaps the inspiration for the town in the film

This weekend in Seneca Falls, New York, the surviving cast members who played the Bailey children – Karolyn Grimes (ZuZu), Carol Coombs (Janie), and Jimmy Hawkins (Tommy) – in the classic Christmas movie It’s a Wonderful Life are gathering to celebrate the film’s 70^th anniversary. While it is debatable whether director Frank Capra based Bedford Falls (the film’s fictional town) on Seneca Falls, the people who played these memorable characters believe it to be so, and that is why they are there to celebrate.

Karolyn Grimes and Carol Coombs

While Grimes believes that Seneca Falls was the inspiration for the film’s setting, she also thinks that Capra never made the connection public for a specific reason – he wanted the audience to think of Bedford Falls as any town in order “to identify with their own community.” Of course, the universality of the time and place is what made the film connect with the audience when it premiered in December 1946 and that has continued to happen for viewers of the film for the last 70 years.

The first time I saw the film was back in the 1980s. At the time my mother noted it would be on TV that evening and that she remembered it to be a great movie. Since I was going out I popped a blank tape into the VCR and recorded it. I eventually sat down to watch it and fast-forwarded the commercials that appeared on old Channel 5 here in New York – most notably numerous ones with Tom Carvel hawking his ice cream cakes for the holidays.

Grimes as ZuZu with Stewart and Reed

I was simply blown away by Frank Capra’s masterpiece – I had never seen anything like it before. A normal everyday guy named George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart in a magnificent Oscar nominated performance) gets to a point in his life where he feels that he needs to kill himself, and an angel named Clarence (Henry Travers) is sent down to show him what a poor choice that would be.

To accomplish this task Clarence takes George to an alternate world where he had never been born. Hundreds of lives are affected by George’s absence, including almost everyone in the small town of Bedford Falls, but also many others a world away during the war. George likes the idea of having no strings attached at first, but as he gradually becomes aware of his signifcance in all these people’s lives, he realizes that his life is not only worth keeping but that it was truly important to so many others – he had actually made a tangible difference in their lives.

All these years later I have watched It’s a Wonderful Life probably over 100 times. I usually take it out (now I have it on DVD) on Thanksgiving weekend and watch it with the kids as I put up the tree and decorate the house. This is a cursory viewing, meant to let the kids see it and for me to watch some of it without getting emotionally involved.

The next viewing will be when I am alone, and it will be a fully invested one. This was the case last evening when, after the kids had gone to bed and the wife went shopping, I could sit down and truly enjoy it. As always, I find some new things in it (even after all this time) and savor all the moments I remember so well and, despite seeing it so many times before, I reach those moments when a box of Kleenex is in order.

I will probably watch it again with my children during Christmas vacation when there is no school, and then sometimes during the year when I am feeling down and I need a little shot of Christmas cheer, I’ll pop the movie in to be reminded of the happiest season of all.

One thing that any new viewer – and I am amazed at how many people have told me that they haven’t watched this film yet – should know is to be prepared to go down with George as his world seems to crumble. The film takes us to some very dark places, and as we see the man we know who is so good at heart break, tears inevitably flow and we wonder if he can make it through.

For me these are tough scenes to watch, but the most notable one is when George finally explodes in the family’s living room, knocking things down and smashing his blueprints and the children’s drawings. His wife Mary (a terrific Donna Reed) and the kids are shocked by their father’s incongruent behavior, and when Mary sends George out into the cold night, we know he is headed for the darkest place of all.

George with his family after seeing the light

Throughout the film though there is a ray of hope – the light that comes through the darkness to eventually brighten the world. This is why we stick with George all the way, even when it seems as if he is going to destroy himself. When he does see the light, there is glorious relief for the viewer, and Stewart does a remarkable job of transforming inside and brightening the character – his redemption is a beacon that brightens our own lives, which is why the film still endears itself again and again to people all over the world.

You may not be able to get to Seneca Falls this weekend to celebrate, but all you have to do is pop the DVD (or the newly released Platinum Anniversary Edition Blu-ray) into the machine, grab some popcorn, and visit good old Bedford Falls. You’ll definitely be glad that you did.