This adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 has aged surprisingly gracefully, considering that it was made nearly three decades ago. There are a few stylistic decisions that betray the era of its inception, but the movie is still a great telling of Bradbury’s tale of a society where the posession of books is criminal, society is dominated by the "family" on the television, and firemen are responsible for the incineration of books. Especially laudable is the performance of the female lead, who actually plays both the protagonist’s wife and an intriguing girl he meets on the monorail.

Today is the first day I’m back in the office since Maggie was born. As I blearily headed to the car this morning and began loading up my gear, I suddenly realized that instead of picking up my laptop and its docking station, I had instead grabbed my guitar. A Freudian slip, showing my repressed desire to be doing music for a living, or just Sean being a dummkopf? You be the judge.

Everyone keeps asking whether we’re planning on having more children after Maggie. The answer is invariably at this point “We don’t know, but not right this minute.” And then I tell them about how I had my doubts we could even handle three successfully…

Shortly after Liam was born, we headed to church one Sunday morning. Now, our church in Denton was a big place, with a large campus that had several buildings that housed different sunday schools and programs. Kathy and I would typically split up to distribute the kids to their respective rooms and then meet up back in the sanctuary for the service. On this day, we had done our usual drill, and the service had been going on for about 10 minutes when I made it to the sanctuary, spotted Kathy, excuse-me’d past about 5 people to get to the seat next to her, and plopped down gratefully.

Kathy looked over at me, stared for a moment, and said “Where’s Liam?” I thought for a moment, thought for a moment more, and answered “In the car. I’ll be right back.” I climbed back over the 5 people, slipped out, and started running flat out back to the car, which was, of course, parked all the way across campus from where I was.

As I sprinted past, people who were still in the parking lot stared at me, wondering what on earth could be so important as to require that kind of urgency. After bearing their stares for a few minutes, I made it to the car, and found Liam, still blissfully asleep in the back seat, where I had forgotten about him. I hopped in, checked to be sure he was still ok, and then realized that if I got out immediately with him, everyone who had seen me sprint past would realize that I was a horrible father and would probably act on the spot to take my son away from his neglectful parent. So, now assured that Liam was fine, I sat in the car listening to A Prairie Home Companion until I was pretty sure that everyone had wandered off or been distracted by other things. Then I sedately made my way back to the sanctuary, Liam’s carrier safely in hand, grateful that my absent mindedness hadn’t caused any more problems than it had.

And now, we’ve got four. Wish our kids luck.

As we’ve adjusted to life with four kiddos, we’ve gotten a lot of help from various people for which we’re very grateful. Thanks to, in no particular order: my brother, who watched the kids while we were in the hospital. My mom, who cleared her schedule at her pediatric practice for two days so she could be around and help out. The Johnsons, who made off with our three elder children for several hours so we could have a little time to relax. The Corleys, for taking care of making announcement phone calls for us and for feeding us. The Ardilas, for providing a meal for us. The Isaacs, Salases, Lopezes, and more for their frequent and generous offers of help. There are probably more I’m not remembering offhand; if I’ve forgotten you, please accept the apologies of a bleary new father.

I commented on McCourt’s book a few weeks ago, and was eager to see how the movie version of Angela’s Ashes would fare in comparison. All in all, the film is a surprisingly good adaptation of McCourt’s memoirs. Though the brevity imposed by the form makes it difficult to flesh out the vignettes with the same degree of detail the book provided, the film makes up for it by providing memorable images of Limerick and its people. The two forms are complementary, and I would suggest taking in both to milk McCourt’s childhood for all it’s worth.

Luc Besson’s The Big Blue has its good points. There are some interesting, sympathetic characters with intriguing relationships and some beautiful photography. There’s humor, drama, and adventure. And there are lots of dolphins. But unfortunately, the whole thing just seems too self-conscious, as if Besson has deliberately set out to convince people that he’s a wonderful writer/director more than he’s set out to make a great movie. The film’s good points aren’t quite good enough to sustain its extreme length, and what should be enjoyable begins to feel like a bit of a chore by the end. Worth seeing, but only if you’re patient and have a comfy chair.

My eBay auction of the iBook finally concluded last week. I was pleased to
discover that the fellow who was going to end up with my erstwhile machine
was David Coe, who fiddles for Michael
Martin Murphy. Good to know that it will be going to a good home with
another musician!

Our long awaited fourth child arrived this evening. She came into the world at 8 pounds, 9.8 ounces and 21 inches long. Mom and baby are both doing great. If you have the bandwidth, you can see video of Margaret Ashley on the home page.

The first rule of seeing X-Men: don’t see it at a $2 theater. The second rule of seeing X-Men: by all means do so. I’ve never gotten into the X-Men comics, though I have enough friends who are rabid X-Men fans that I’ve absorbed a bit of the mythos vicariously. I found myself wondering repeatedly through the film whether it would be more fun for one who was already crazy about X-Men or for the tyro. The former get the joys of seeing their beloved characters translated wonderfully well to the big screen. Hugh Jackman is a great Wolverine. Cyclops kicks just as much bum as one would expect. Ray Park (Darth Maul) does a great job as Toad. But for someone who isn’t familiar with the X-Men, the pleasure of entering this complex, very human world await. There is relational depth that one would expect to find in novels, rather than comics. There are interesting characters, who by dint of their very individual powers, are thrust up against each other in intriguing ways. And there are, of course, lots of special effects and Patrick Stewart holding the whole show together. But regardless of which particular pleasures you derive from the film, it’s well worth seeing.

Well, the new G4 rolled in today, and I spent the evening after the kids went to bed getting it set up and going. The good: it’s blazingly fast, and will only get more so once I have it going with OS X which actually supports both processors. Both iMovie and Deus Ex, my test applications this evening, perform hugely better than on the G3. The bad: the DVD drive doesn’t appear to like my burned CDs, nor, for some reason, does it seem eager to play DVD movies. Also, the Radeon card’s drivers still apparently need some work, as Deus Ex has some extraordinarily ugly graphics artifacts. But overall it’s a beautifully engineered machine, with some lovely peripherals; the Apple Pro mouse is an absolute beauty, and just needs those little grips on the side to actually be buttons to make it perfect.