Chillin'

Yes, that is a surfer making his way onto a snow-covered beach, with a lighthouse in the background. Turns out there are quite a few people who've taken up surfing on Lake Superior. Year 'round. I lived in Duluth in 1996 and 1997 and commuted up the North Shore Highway (the same Highway 61 revisited by local boy Bob Dylan) daily to the courthouse in Two Harbors (and a few times a month to the one in Grand Marais). I don't remember seeing any surfers back then, but it turns out they were there. Lake Superior is the most beautiful body of water I've ever seen, and it was hard to take my eyes off of it.

According to an article in Friday's New York Times, these guys wear thick wetsuits, gloves, booties, hoods, and petroleum jelly to protect themselves. The water in that big old lake averages around 40 degrees year-round, which means it's often warmer than the air. But you wouldn't want to get wet and then expose yourself to the frigid air (thus the petroleum jelly).

I lived six blocks from the lake and would walk down there (Duluth is built on a very steep hill . . . think San Francisco but smaller and less expensive) with my dearly departed Labrador, Chamois, almost every day. She would fetch sticks for hours no matter the weather. When it was hot out (mid 70's counts as hot in Duluth---my idea of a perfect summer), I would wade in with her but only to just above my knees. It was too cold to proceed any further. Well, not without a wetsuit.

There Are Raccoons Living in My House . . . Again.

I first heard them about this time last year. I'm renting a house that was built in 1890 and which has suffered through numerous renovations over the years. The raccoons live between the original (very high) ceilings and the newer (lower) ones. They make a LOT of noise.

A trapper caught three of them over the course of a couple of months last spring, then my landlady's handyman sealed up all of the openings they'd created into the house. I thought that was the end of the story . . . until today, when I heard them scurrying about overhead. It's their mating season right now, so things could get much louder soon.

Movies Whose Acclaim Completely Eludes Me

In no particular order:

1. Forrest Gump: OK, the many bits of history thrown in was a novel gimmick (recently done again in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"), but I was bothered by the message of the film, which seemed to be that it's honorable to be not-so-bright and accepting of whatever life hands you. And it's very bad to protest government actions---you will pay for this recklessness.

2. Little Miss Sunshine: Just plain dumb. Insultingly dumb. And a little creepy at times (e.g., when Alan Arkin was teaching his young granddaughter to dance like a stripper).

3. Jerry Maguire: OK, I will admit bias against Tom Cruise, which didn't help matters here. The underlying message of the movie isn't a bad one, i.e., it's a good idea to treat your clients well and be honest in all dealings with them. Yeah, that's all fine and good. But the annoying catchphrases and bizarre, incredible plot twists (e.g., Jerry marries single mom Dorothy because he likes hanging out with her kid??!!!) were just too much.

4. Atonement: Where to begin . . . OK, this one definitely scores high for eye candy, but I didn't buy the plot for a second. Our 'tween narrator sends the object of her crush to prison rather than let her sister pursue a love affair with him???!!! And from that point on, things only get even more depressing (e.g., the hero and heroine die horrible, lonely deaths at a young age). It might have been a good book (I don't know, as I have not read it), but why anyone would subject herself to this nonsensical gloomfest is beyond me.

5. Crash: I think the lack of sympathetic characters was a big problem for me here. Then we've got racial stereotypes, incredible plot twists (I lived in LA for a number of years and find it really difficult to believe that these folks just keep running into each other---that doesn't happen in such an enormous, sprawling city), and an overall mood of unpleasantness that left me scratching my head. This was not Oscar material.