Noise in the Shape of Writing

A few years back I commented on having achieved the "holy grail" of fatherly gaming when my daughter finally beat me at a game without me handicapping myself at all (I think it was 3D TicTacToe).

Anyway, I can now proudly announce Holy Grail #2... as of yesterday my 8-yr-old daughter's favorite game is now Texas Hold 'em.

Good lord, I think we've played a few hundred hands of Hold 'em in the last 48 hours. I eventually had to say "no more!"

And here's what's even more amazing... she's DARN GOOD!

And I'm not talking in that every-father-thinks-his-kid-is-the-best way. She picked up all the terminology, the betting strategies... and best of all bluffing. She can bluff like no one's business.

Of course, that is often typical of kids... we tend to trust them and then when they bluff we are totally thrown. At any rate, in my opinion she has it down well enough to play with most of my friends. I sh** you not. She even learned how to shuffle pretty darn well.

Okay, occasionally, she forgets to "burn" cards during the deal... and she absolutely INSISTS on telling me what cards she had after folding (or seeing me fold)...

But it's a small price to pay to see the Flop.

Pat.

There are David Banner-looking Ukranian women in swimsuits doing the 400-meter IM on my TV.

The perfect backdrop for my "Open Water" review. (no spoilers, don't worry)

A week or so ago (at a showing of "Collateral" I think), I saw a trailer for "Open Water" and I swore I would never see that movie. It's one of my worst fears. Which is odd since I was once a lifeguard. I swam off the coast of Catalina Island once and looked down into some freakishly deep kelp beds and haven't swum out past the breakwaters since.

So, completely breaking my own word, I found myself in Hollywood with 2 hours to kill and 11 bucks to waste at the Arclight. The ONLY movie playing within my timeframe was "Open Water".

I knew I would have spent more than $11 at Ameoba Records, so I opted for the movie.

It's pretty amateurish at the beginning. Camera lingering on pointless moments in the setup scenes while protagonists don't talk or even emote. Pointless, dialogue-less, hackneyed and dry relationship stuff. Fresh faces, though. But here I would have preferred a better use of music to stir my "involvement" in the characters' lives. Later, the soundtrack actually helps (a sort of Calypso top 40 thingy), as it backpedals from the deep water horror just enough to get us relaxed.

Also, the sound editing itself seemed like it was phoned in from further away than the actors' performances were.

NO semblance of plot direction seemed imminent for 20 minutes.

Then they got into the water.

I hate sharks. But I didn't expect them to scare me. After all, there were a couple of toddlers sitting in front of me (rant regarding parents who take kids to R rated movies saved for another day). Their presence definitely took the edge off the horror touches.

So what DID scare me? Everytime stuff happened BELOW the water. How simple is that, huh? The standard "scarrier if unseen" adage.

I won't elaborate what was under the water. It wasn't always sharks. It was pretty scary. Surprising how they could use little elements to make big scares.

Still, I disliked the cheapness of it all. Simple medium shots of the 2 in the water. And... pretty much nothing else. That kept the budget pretty cheap, I bet.

Also, I was hoping for more interplay between the two. Instead, they cut away to the hotel (the rescue efforts!) every time the characters started getting on each others' nerves or started into some nicely thoughtful dialogue.

And the ending was too quick and a little gimmicky.

Eh. Mayhap we can discuss it in the comments area (WITH spoilers).

Still, I refuse to get in my pool after dark this week. Maybe next week too.

It's the middle of the night and I am watching teams from places such as "Andora" and "Belorussia." They are executing maneuvers with names like "cross-coordinated full stroking," their sinewy arms cutting passionate swaths through the Grecian flood canal waters.

Yes, I have Summer Olympic fever once again. (Did you know NBC has over 65 hours of coverage each and every day?) It happens, I dunno, every four years or so. It's like World Cup fever, only with less men covering their genitals and slightly more international hatreds clearly worn on sleeves.

Now there are sexy women wearing colored, leather mandillions. They are holding big rifles and they each have a post-it note over one eye. They are shooting at a wall and it looks like some sort of hot, firing-squad anime series about chicks who will kill you or pleasure you and you don't get to know which.

Sure, tomorrow brings soccer and swimming and all the traditonal stuff, but for the moment, I feel sorry for the folks who are stuck competing in unheard of events. For these souls, the Olympic experience begins and ends on day one of the Games.

In Athens, it is midday, but here It's the middle of the night... Bjork's head-scratchingly bizarre opening ceremony performance is a distant (thankfully) memory.

Coxless scullers are in the water and they need me right now.

Pat.