The kids and I got to see the latest incarnation of the ubiquitous boy wizard this past weekend courtesy of one of the drug companies that was trying to convince Mom McMains that theirs was the best antibiotic ever. The movie version of Harry Potter was quite ambitious, clocking in at two and a half hours — quite a stretch for the children at whom it’s aimed. Director Chris Columbus did a good job with the film version, remaining very true to the source material, and creating a lovely and believable version of Rowling’s story.

At the risk of sounding like a boring Luddite, the thing that I found most unsatisfying about the film was that the richness of the world was (perhaps unavoidably) sacrificed. Though two and a half hours is a long film, it’s still a dreadfully short time to fully savor the fiction upon which Ms. Rowling has evidently lavished such thought and care. As with Tolkien, her characters inhabit a deeply textured universe. She leaves various mysteries dangling from one book to another to help create a more fully melded tapestry of the whole multiple-book story arc — a luxury we’re not allowed in the film version. But given the constraints the medium inevitably puts upon the story, Potter fans should find this a satisfying addition to the merchandising avalanche.

Over the weekned, we went to see the Gaslight Theater’s production of Ionesco’s Rhinoceros, which my software business sponsored. (We evidently paid for the smoke machine.) The show was very well done, with a much larger cast than we’ve previously seen in that small venue. It combined comedy and psychological insight to create a very interesting portrait of groupthink movements. Ionesco wrote the piece in response to the communist and socialist movements that were sweeping through Europe at the time, but it’s equally applicable to any situation where people trade in their own mind for that of the mob. (The mob in this case is intent upon becoming Rhinoceroses — a cicumstance from which much of the play’s comedy springs.)

Good show, Gaslight crew!

Steve Martin trying for a baby with Gwyneth Paltrow? I think Kathy and I could learn a thing or two from that struggle. Good luck, Steve!

We’ve pretty much finished up construction on the treehouse. See the treehouse page for photos and details. Huzzah!

I’ve been meaning to learn to program the Palm Pilot organizers for a while now, and purchased CodeWarrior several months ago to further that cause. Unfortunately, in spite of having scanned through a couple books on the subject, I haven’t been making any progress at all until this weekend. I finally decided that what I needed was a project to work on, so I’ve started my first PalmOS program — a utility which will make entering certain kinds of reminders faster and easier.

Over the weekend, I built a first version of the user interface and added a little code to it. During lunch today, while waiting for an oil change, I started wiring up the interface so that it would actually do something. Now I can merrily click among all the different screens in the application, though none of them actually do much yet. It’s fun to be learning a new platform, and brain-stretching to be programming in C again after ignoring it for about 6 years. I still like higher-level languages, but I can certainly see that C’s efficiency is a valuable asset on a small device like the Palm.

Since she’s become ambulent, one of the pecadillos Maggie has been able to indulge more easily is her taste for cat food. Given the slightest opportunity, she will make a beeline for the cats’ bowl and start scarfing down the cheap, dry food we give them, which she evidently finds preferable to any human food we’ve sent her way. We’ve now taken to putting the cat dish in the laundry room and keeping a very careful eye on the door so that our cats don’t waste away to nothing.

She is developing a nice shiny coat, though.

One of the great things about having Ben in the area recently has been that he’s been lending me some excellent music. Among his recent loans was Livin’ it Up When I Die, by The Electrics. They’re equal parts The Chieftans, Simple Minds, and Brave Combo, if you can imagine a thing — fun folk rock from Scotland with pipes, electric guitars, accordions, and rock drums. A couple of tracks from their next album are up on the site. Good fun dancing music.

I’m starting to accumulate quotations from various things I’m reading that I’d like to be able to come back and look at again later. If you’d care to follow along at home, you can do so on the Quotes page.

With the coming of cooler weather, my long-standing resolution to build the kids a tree house began to bear fruit this weekend. I went to the hardware store and read through their various tree house plans, finally settling on something that looked like it ought to be sturdy enough to withstand my children. I settled on an 8′ x 8′ plan, which will itself stand about 8′ above the ground. The view from up there is great, affording both excellent visibility to the street by the house and the swimming pool. We built most of the structure that will support the floor over the weekend. Next up will be installing the actual flooring and then building walls so that Liam doesn’t hurl himself (or anyone else) into space more than absolutely necessary.

After climbing up onto the framework of the platform and seeing what a nice space it is, I’m half-considering commandeering it for use as a Tree Office.

I’ve been thinking a fair bit recently about Joy, and its relationship to God. Christians are promised a deep and lasting Joy in their lives, though are also pretty much guaranteed that it won’t always be accompanied by happiness. (Incidentally, I think much of what is percieved as pollyannaism among Christians stems from confusing the Joy we’re supposed to have with the happiness that we may or may not experience at a given point.)

In any case, it seems that a corollary to that promise of Joy as we participate in the Divine life is that the presence of Joy may give us a clue as to where God can meet us as individuals. I get a great deal of Joy out of being with my family, immediate and extended, of playing music, of going for long hikes, and spending time with a few of my dearest friends. On the other hand, I don’t often get much from work, and spending 2 hours a day in the car actively drains it from me. (And to continue to make the distinction clear, there are a number of things that tend to be enjoyable and make me happy that aren’t tied to joy: playing interesting games, adventure/mystery novels, Mystery Science Theater 3000, etc.)

So I’ve been trying to figure out if my life can be reordered to focus more on those Joyful aspects (even at the potential expense of some of the happy facets), and if indeed that does offer some individual clue as to where I need to be to be attuned to God’s operation in my life, or whether it’s simply borne out of pleasure-seeking.

I’m starting on Madeline L’Engle’s Walking on Water, a book with some of her reflections on Faith & Art. She seems very much convinced that each artistic act is a reflection of the creative portion of the imago dei planted in us — that in creating, she reflects the Creator in whose image she’s made. Interesting food for thought.