Obedience School, Week 5

Not much to report this week. It’s mostly review and practice (and more practice). The only two things worth noting are (1) I’ve finally learned that the Vizsla’s name is Reese, as in Reese’s peanut butter cups (pronounced ree-see). I was able to learn this because only Olive, Reese, and The Eliminator were in attendance this week.

(2) Remember last week’s epiphany about rewarding every single act of obedience with both a treat and praise? At 3:00 the morning after our practice and more practice class, The Eliminator barfed up all of the Cheerios we given in reward. We’re rethinking rewards.

Next week: trick week.

New Stem Cell News

As you may know, MrG is associated with people who know people who know stuff about all the stem cell and bioethics goings on we hear so much about these days. MrG checked with his people so that he could let you know the low down on the newest news.

MrG’s sources report that it’s good, good, good news. Perhaps MrG’s friends at one of the big family research council groups captured it best: No Embryos, No Cloning, No Eggs--No Problem!

People who tend to get it right on these issues, IMHO, include these people, this guy, these people, and, frankly, this guy.

I’m a Winner

The social committee for our condo building threw a get acquainted party yesterday afternoon at a nearby eatery/hangout. One of the drawing cards was the promise of a raffle, with the caveat that you must be present to win.

My raffle ticket was 035.

I won a gallon of BBQ sauce, a Chicago Tribune tote bag, key chain, and a lighted message fan -- SUBSCRIBER . . . ADVANTAGE . . . FANATIC . . .

A gallon . . . 126 servings . . . 9.5 pounds . . . of Cattlemen’s Smokey Barbecue Sauce . . . “It’s great straight from the jug!”

So send in your recipes that call for BBQ sauce. I only have until July 25, 2008.

Obedience School, Week 4

To make up for missing week three, we got to class 30 minutes early. PoMonkey talked with Kirsten the Trainer late last week, and she told us that if we could come in early she would go over the information we missed. Over the course of the half hour, as our classmates came in, it became clear that we were not the only ones to miss last week. In fact, only the Vizsla and the crazy dog were there for week three.

Olive, for example, came down with an eye infection, and the vet ordered her not to have contact with other dogs. Perhaps it was the ensuing loneliness that drove Olive to eat a pair of underwear necessitating a visit to the canine emergency room late in the week.

The improved student-teacher ratio seemed to be a big help for the two who did attend week three. The crazy dog seems much, much, less crazy, and the Vizsla got a new harness to help cut down on the pulling. It’s a contraption that loops around the front legs in such a way that as the dog pulls harder, the harness presses on the front legs, eventually collapsing them. It seemed to help.

If we had been there for week three we would have learned about:

• Loose leash walking with sit
• Socialization
• Take it & leave it
• Drop it
• Down

In week four, we learned to combine loose leash walking with take it & leave it, come when called, and stay.

At some point during the evening, I realized that during the training phase, every single act of obedience must be rewarded with both a treat and praise. Even as I fully realized it, I remembered being told it in week one. For whatever reason, I’ve been trying to use only occasional treats (but praising each obedience), so we haven’t been progressing as quickly as we might.

Week three’s drama involved bull(y)dog Duke. He and his human unit were sitting between the Shitzu and the crazy dog, and Duke snarled, growled, and barked at each of them in turn. The Shitzu is maybe 10% of Duke’s size, but always stands her ground. Crazy dog can only be distracted for so long before beginning to bark. And bark and bark and bark. This requires major intervention: treats all around, distraction techniques, physically blocking the dogs from seeing each other, etc.

About half way through the class, Duke and his human unit crossed the room to the water dish, as all of Duke’s snarling, growling, barking, etc. had left him parched. After lapping up a bit of water, Duke couldn’t resist the chance to snarl at Olive, who was closest to the water bowl (and three times his size). Not one to put up with such nonsense, Olive slapped at Duke, cutting his snout.

Olive’s human units apologized profusely, while Duke’s human unit insisted that the fault lay entirely with Duke. While Duke went out to get some salve for his snout, we continued with class, practicing our commands.

It turned out that Duke’s injury wasn’t too bad, but he didn’t return until class was ending. Duke’s human talked with Kirsten the Trainer about the possibility of transferring to a class with fewer opportunities for domination students.

So we're half way through beginner education. Time for mid-term evaluation. Here’s how I think The Eliminator’s doing:

• Watch me: more easily distracted than I’d like, but probably about where we should be at this point
  
• Potty Training: no problems at all (thankfully). Whoever had her before did all of the work on this (thanks again).
• Crate: just within the last week The Eliminator has started to go in on command. It may help that we now provide her with a frozen, applesauce filled KONG each day after she gets in the crate.
• Loose leash walking: The Eliminator walks on a loose leash when she wants to, which thankfully is most of the time. But this needs more work.
• Sit: she sits almost all of the time that we ask, but every once in a while she resists, mostly when we’re outside. And sometimes she sits when we’re trying to do something else.
• Loose leash walking with sit: I realized today that I haven’t worked with The Eliminator enough on this. PoMonkey has emphasized this more on her walks.
• Socialization: needs improvement. She tends to lunge at other dogs (often crouching low to the ground and swinging wide of them in some sort of flanking maneuver), and a few humans. For about 1/3 of the humans she meets, she growls and barks. Another 1/3 are fine, and 1/3 she ignores. We can’t discern any pattern to the humans.
• Take it & leave it: The Eliminator is doing very well at this, but we’ve worked on it more, and it always involves a treat (the take it).
• Drop it: The Eliminator does well with this, and it seems like something else someone previously put some time into.
• Down (lay): as long as there’s a treat, she not only lays down, but actually dives for the floor. There is often a loud thump as her front elbows hit the hardwood floor. I haven’t gotten it to work without a treat yet.
• Stay: I’d guess she’s right where she needs to be on this. Not perfect, but definitely coming along. We can get six or eight feet away without problem, most of the time.
• Combining loose leash walking with take it & leave it: Hmmm, haven’t tried this one, and in fact I’m just seeing it on the handout.
• Come when called: She does pretty good with this, but it’s going to take some work to get where we need to be with it.

To be halfway through, I'm fairly pleased with where we are. I've goofed a bit with the treat thing, and we did miss a week of class. But now that I’ve (re)learned that I need to use more treats and refreshed my memory about what we need to be working on, I suspect we will quickly make up the lost ground.

Car Shopping (Updated)

After much research, we set out for a (somewhat) nearby car dealer. Our research indicated that the car that best met our priorities was the Scion xD. In addition, Scion advertises itself as “no haggle,” offering what it calls “Pure Price,” eliminating one of the things that MrG hates most about car shopping.

Pure Price does not eliminate the haggling over the trade in.

We arrived at the dealership and were accosted greeted by a salesman. He connected us with a Scion Specialist, who took our basic info, then pressed us to commit to completing a sale today.

I assured him that if we could make all of the numbers work, we would be buying.

We tuned over the keys to our SUV for an appraisal, and the Scion specialist took us to the lot to look over their inventory and choose one for a test drive. As it turned out it wasn’t too difficult to make a selection.

They had only one xD on the lot.

It was silver with automatic transmission (perfect), with black cloth interior (acceptable), and the single optional add-on of traction control (might be useful).

We went for a drive. The car handled well and rode okay, although it was a bit rougher than I expected. Road noise was a bit more than I expected too. But it’s a small car, and the reviews rate it good in its class.

So when we returned to the dealer, we were eager to hear what the appraiser had to say about our trade.

1/3 of what I expected.

It seemed clear that we were not going to reach a deal.

Was it extreme negotiating? Incompetence on the part of the appraiser? An attempt to take advantage of someone who might not know what his car is worth? A get lost?

I don’t know and honestly I don’t care. It was clear that we weren’t going to reach an agreement. I asked for the keys back three or four times before they were handed over so that we could leave.

We went to another, truly no haggle (but used only) dealership, who presented us with a written offer—good for seven days—for about half of what I originally expected. It’s possible that my research is suspect, but more likely that there simply isn’t much of a market for used SUVs, at least in the city of $3.20 gas.

So we’re rethinking our priorities and our options.

I’ll keep you posted.

UPDATE: the Scion Specialist called back and offered 80% of what I expected to receive on the trade. However, the offer was via a “friend at a competing dealership.” I’m not sure what’s going on, and it doesn’t mater. We’re not in a position where we must change vehicles, so I’m not inclined to accept this offer.

More Soon

On Wednesday MrG finally got sick enough to go to the doctor for the first time since 2003 or 2004. This marks him as very healthy, very foolish, clueless about preventative medicine, or some combination.

Anyway, two prescriptions, a sheet full of homeopathic recommendations, and two solid days of rest and MrG is feeling quite a bit better. And he’s way behind at work.

All that to say, MrG is planning to write and post an obedience school update over the weekend.

Also, he’s planning to go car shopping on Saturday. He and PoMonkey have decided the time has come to trade in the SUV for something smaller, easier to drive/park in the city, and better on gas (average Chicago gas price currently $3.20).

MrG loathes car shopping.

Keep him in your prayers.

Obedience School, Week 3

On the way to class we stopped by the post office to pick up some stamps for work. The Eliminator and MrG waited in the car while PoMonkey went in to make the purchase. It was a cool but not cold Fall evening, so MrG opened the sunroof and cut off the engine while waiting. The Jeep was parked on the street in a “standing zone,” so the hazard lights were on, as was the radio. After 15 minutes or so, PoMonkey returned, and MrG turned the key to start the engine.

Click, click, click . . .

By the way the idiot lights in the instrument cluster dimmed, it looked like the battery might be dead.

It took about 30 minutes for a very nice gentleman from AAA to arrive, and another 30 or 40 minutes for him to diagnose a dead cell in the battery and swap it for one of the replacement batteries in the back of his pickup.

So we missed class.

Maybe Kirsten the Trainer will let us make up the missed class.

Stay tuned.

Overheard

When I was in DC there was a series of miscommunications that resulted in me having to wait for FastSigns to, well, make a sign. While waiting I got to spend about 20 minutes walking through The National Gallery of Art.

As I arrived, a group of high school kids was gathered in the lobby getting their assignment, which involved walking around, finding examples of various styles of art, and recording their thoughts.

I spent my sliver of time viewing an exhibition entitled “Crosscurrents: American and European Masterpieces from the Permanent Collection.”

At one point I heard one of the teachers explaining, “any painting that contains only one person is a portrait.”

Later, I heard a student who was standing in front of The Emperor exclaim, “man, every one of the paintings hanging in here is great!”

Uh, yeah.

Obedience School, Week 2

Sorry this is late. As you may have heard, Mr. Ginger has been out of town (again).

As we pulled into the parking lot, we spotted the Vizsla dodging between cars, leash dragging along, human unit (possible hotel heiress) several steps behind. Once inside, Ms. Howard Johnson decided that rather than try harder, she would simply put the loop of the leash around her chair leg so that the canine could stray only so far.

This actually turned out to be fairly effective, as other attendees simply avoided what we might call her sphere of non-influence.

Within 20 minutes, Dominance Issues Duke had worked himself into such a froth that he literally frothed up his dinner. This led relatively quickly to the Shitzu following course. Later she “let it go” in the middle of the room, conveniently near the drain built into the middle of the floor. The Vizsla soon had a “go” too, but not near the drain. A mop was required.

Crazy dog seemed slightly less crazy tonight, at least until she spotted a cat on the other side of the glass wall of the training room. That’s right, one wall of the training room is glass, so that shoppers can look in on the goings on. While it might be great for selling people on the training classes, it does tend to hamper the actual training.

As for the evening’s lecture, it was kind of how-to dog-spa night. We learned about massaging our dog, brushing our dog’s teeth, and this unpleasantness.

Last week’s homework was to practice our praise phrase and “watch me.” Practicing the praise phrase involves repeating, in our case, “good girl,” while shoveling treats to the dog. We were told right up front that this would probably be the dog’s favorite training activity.

“Watch me” is similar, but it involves holding the treat near one’s own head and saying “watch me . . . watch me” before handing it over. This is some sort of attempt to get the canine to associate the term with gazing at the human head. Kirsten the trainer promises that it will be useful later.

Our in-class exercise was to perform the “watch me” in front of the group. The Eliminator did fine. Later, we had to trade canines with another human unit, perform “watch me,” and see how well the other dog did.

I ended up with Olive, who is just about twice The Eliminator’s weight. Most of the extra weight seems to be devoted to whatever muscle group powers tugging on the canine end of the leash.

This week’s homework: getting the dog to sit without saying the word. By holding a treat further and further over and towards the back of the dog’s head, the dog will eventually have to sit down. Ideally she will eventually associate the hand gesture with sitting and do it.

It really isn’t much of a problem getting The Eliminator to sit. Correctly assuming that sitting is basically the only command her human units know/understand, she sits whenever she wants something from us.

Spotted

I may have mentioned that due to my trip to the District of Columbia, I missed some sleep. The truth is that I stayed up past 11:00 on Tuesday to watch Dickey on Letterman, because the last time I saw him on Letterman, it ended badly. (I didn’t know they patched things up a year ago.) I then slept very restlessly until 3:30, when I got up to get ready to head to the airport to catch the 7:00 am to DC. The long and short of it is that all day Wednesday I was operating on maybe 3 hours of sleep.

One of the curious side effects of this lack of sleep is that everywhere I went I thought I spotted famous people. At one airport, I thought I saw the first Mrs. Michael Jackson (not completely out of the realm of possibility). At the next airport, I thought I saw a man named Eli who lead a student group I was a part of in college (it was uncanny; I was a tad unnerved). On the Metro, I thought I saw Al Roker (OK, this one wasn’t that close). And at a hotel where I attended a meeting (but not where I’m staying), I thought I saw the mayor of New Orleans (actually, I’m pretty sure I actually did see him climbing into a black SUV outside of the Hyatt. Really. I’m not kidding.)

I didn’t remember until later that I had spent some time Tuesday on a favorite blog that had a couple of “recently spotted” posts (you know who you are, bird tare dog bone).

Lack of sleep does some funny things to my brain.

Obedience School

At 4:30 this morning I was up, showered, shaved, and dressed (even wearing a tie). That’s right faithful readers; I’m off to our nation’s capitol on the first flight of the day (more on that later).

So well before the butt-crack of dawn, I’m all dressed and ready, outside walking the dog, trying to remember what we decided our code word would be to encourage the dog to, well, do her business.

Having a ‘bathroom’ code word was one of the pieces of advice we received last night at our first obedience class.

There are five other dogs in our class. The cast of characters are:

• A male French bulldog named Duke who has "sharing and dominance issues." He was quite disruptive, growling and snarling at the other dogs all evening. He was an equal opportunity offender, pretty much snarling at every dog in the room. Interestingly, Duke’s human unit was the chattiest of the non-canines. I don’t know that there is any cause and effect, just an interesting correlation.
• A very small Shitzu whose name I cannot recall. She was well behaved when not being directly snarled at. She, like her human unit was pretty quiet.
• A young, energetic, and very friendly Vizsla, who was almost constantly pulling against her leash to go and meet/greet/play with the other dogs. In all honesty, her human unit didn’t seem to be trying all that hard. Imagine Paris Hilton with an untrained hound.
• A mutt whose human said upon entering the room, “I apologize in advance. My dog is crazy.” This was after our trainer had come in and asked us to all move to one end of the room because a dog who is very nervous around other dogs was on her way in. By the end of the night the dog was quite literally climbing the walls trying to get out of the training room.
• A pit bull mix named Olive (said her human, “because it’s my favorite food.” I don’t think this implies that she is considering eating her dog, but I’m not certain.) Olive was the only other dog accompanied by more than one human unit.

And, of course, Bailey. I may be a tad biased, but I think I call ‘em how I see ‘em. Honestly, Bailey and the Shitzu were by far the two best behaved canine units. The evidence for this is two fold: both dogs were at various times not only lying down quietly, but even laying on their backs for belly rubs. Second, they received the fewest treats. The dogs that were snarling and barking or responding to the snarling and barking got treats from the trainer to quiet them.

Our trainer is a young woman named Kirsten. She claims to have a small dog named Ella, but Ella wasn’t there. I’m not sure why I doubt that she even owns a dog, but I do.

As it turns out, the first night is all lecture, and it’s interesting to hear all of the conflicting dog advice. Someone mentioned that they heard a (somewhat) well-known dog trainer advise that you make your dog wait to eat until after you eat as a way to establish your dominance. I had heard the opposite: feed the dog first so he or she doesn’t beg for food while you eat. Kirsten the trainer said it doesn’t matter. I think we’ll keep feeding Bailey first.

Kirsten the trainer said that once your dog has peed and poo’ed you should go back inside. I heard that the dog will figure out that the fun of the walk ends when, well you know, and hold out as long as possible. Now I just don’t know.

At any rate, living in Chicago, Kirsten the trainer emphasized that in the dead of winter we will want to be able to get out and back in with the dog ASAP, and that having some key word or phrase that the dog associates with tinkling and doodling will be a welcome means of expediting the process. This I do not doubt. To make it work, whenever the canine [insert euphemism for uses the toilet], you say the word or phrase. Eventually the dog catches on (see Ivan Pavlov).

So last night PoMonkey and I discussed what word or phrase we might use. Kirsten the trainer had suggested “go potty,” the phrase she allegedly uses with Ella. (Again with the doubt. I just don’t know why.) Neither of us were huge fans of standing out in front of our condo building saying, “go potty.”

My take on this kind of thing is that it could literally be anything (dogs don't actually understand language), so I suggested the name of my new favorite TV show, Top Gear (which coincidentally has added a dog, known as Top Gear Dog, this season). We wisecracked through a few other options, but in the end, I told PoMonkey just to choose something and let me know.

4:30 am and I’m wracking my sleep-deprived brain trying to remember what she said. All I could come up with was eliminate, and for some reason I thought that I had to say it with my worst Governor of California impersonation – “You’re da eliminator and you must eliminate . . . ELIMINATE! ELIMINATOR!!”

On the way to the airport I related this story to PoMonkey, who reminds me that she chose the considerably less intense, let it go.

Ah, yes, let it go.

And so begins the adventure that is Obedience School. Seven more weeks to obedience bliss . . . Stay tuned.

New Spleen Vent

For those few souls still reading MGMW, but not checking his other, even more fallow (if fallow can be described in degrees) blog.

How MrG Spent His Summer - September

September started off with a bit of car trouble. On the 3^rd, one car decided that it simply could not run if MrG was not constantly pressing the gas. This makes stop and go traffic -- Chicago traffic -- nearly impossible to navigate. Two days later MrG drove it to the shop and it became apparent that the car changed its mind. This was fortunate as the service adviser at the shop said, “we don’t work on that model, they’re not well made, get rid of it, it’s a money pit.”

It’s currently running fine, but a likely candidate for a trade in for something smaller and better for city driving.

On the 4^th, the other car managed to open some kind of hole in its exhaust system, making it sound like some kind of motorboat. This is appropriate seeing as how the car is really a land yacht.

In late September, MrG and PoMonkey went on a work-related road trip (in a rental car) to Louisville, KY. MrG had only passed through Louisville once before, but it’s not a bad place to go to a convention. Lots of hotel space near the convention center, and lots of off-site food and entertainment options.

MrG spent most of his September free time on a writing project. No, not this blog.

You've quite likely already heard the other big news from September.

Hmm

No Such Thing as Anonymous Blogging?

How MrG Spent His Summer - August

MrG and PoMonkey were fortunate enough to have several people travel to Chicago and see them in August. They got to do a bunch of the touristy stuff in Chicago—Signature Room in the Hancock, boat tour of the Chicago River and Lake Michigan, Navy Pier, Michigan Avenue shopping, and more. We went to a Cubs game and while they lost, the bus ride to and from Wrigley Field passed through one of the, um, more colorful neighborhoods in Chicago. Saw the Bourne Ultimatum and Wicked (reviews forthcoming). Work/travel wise, MrG infiltrated attended the YearlyKos convention, which was held here in the Windy City. On the Saturday of the convention he saw all of the leading democratic presidential candidates in person. And yes, her voice is the like that in person too.

The Curious Incident of the Dog Biscuit That Nearly Resulted in PoMonkey Blowing Up Our New Condo

One day in early August, PoMonkey was at home getting ready to go to work. I had left early to go to a meeting at the convention center. I don't think I mentioned that our new place in the city is a bit smaller than the last place we lived, so we've had to test out various placement of things. Case in point: the ironing board.

So PoMonkey is getting ready for work, ironing a shirt and doing a few chores around the house like drying clothes. As she was ironing her shirt, she smelled something unusual, as if perhaps something were burning. PoMonkey checked the dryer and found several pieces of dog biscuit rattling around with the clothes and stuck in the lint trap.

My family reunion this year was at my maternal grandparents' house, which is located on several acres in Virginia. My uncle lives there on the "farm" where there is a chicken coop, old pig pens, a couple of barns, and several dog kennels. At some point during the day, I walked down to the kennels to visit a hunting dog that my uncle had found, and I took a couple of dog biscuits with me to offer to Brenda (as my aunt who lives across the street has named her). It turned out that Brenda wasn't that interested in dog biscuits. When I offered her one, she simply sniffed it and walked away with out even touching it.

I guess I must have left the other dog biscuit in my pocket, and it ended up going all of the way through the wash and most of the way through the dry cycle. PoMonkey finished her ironing and left for work. As she was walking down the hall to the elevator, she thought, that unusual smell didn't really go away when the dryer stopped, and it didn't really smell like one would imagine a burning dog biscuit would smell; it was something more familiar.

That day she had set the ironing board up in the kitchen, right in front of the stove. When she returned to double check on the smell, she noticed that one of the burner controls was on, apparently having been bumped by the ironing board or some part of the ironing process. None of the burners were lit, so the condo was simply filling with natural gas.

Thank God she had second thoughts about that smell so that this story remains, The Curious Incident of the Dog Biscuit That Nearly Resulted in PoMonkey Blowing Up Our Condo.

Post Script – We now put the ironing board up on the other side of the condo, by the exercise bike and far away the stove.

How MrG Spent His Summer – July

In July MrG flew on four different airlines, through six different airports in four days. Lesson: you can save a lot by purchasing one way tickets, taking advantage of airline code share flights, and MARC. Of course you may will pay for it with your time and sanity.

MrG stayed at Hotel Helix in between two of those flights/airports. Hotel Helix is a themed boutique hotel, whose theme is . . . Austin Powers' version of the late 1960s. The room included a leopard print robe and a faux bear skin blanket for the bed. Thanks Capt’n. At least a few people who have stayed there have found it fascinating enough to take and post pictures.

July also saw MrG get the worst sunburn of his life (while under an umbrella) at the beach. Finally in July, and actually spilling over into August, was the Curious Incident of the Dog Biscuit, which nearly resulted in PoMonkey blowing up the new condo. But that's another post for another day.

UPDATED: How Mister Ginger Spent His Summer

Fall is here, and with it an accounting of how Mister Ginger spent his summer.

June – In June MrG traveled to Washington DC and Kansas City. The DC trip included staying at the hotel where President Reagan was shot in 1981. Interestingly (at least to MrG), the KC trip did not include actually entering Kansas. It turns out that Kansas City, MO is much larger than Kansas City, KS. MrG has somehow visited all of the states that border Kansas, but never Kansas. This is just the kind of odd fact that he not only keeps track of, but likes to share. Aren't you glad he finally posted something?!?

Late in June—actually on the first full day of summer—MrG and PoMonkey moved to downtown Chicago. They now live in a 75 year old warehouse that has been converted to condos. Their unit overlooks a rail yard, and from their deck one can occasionally see hobos gathering around campfires, eating from their bindles, and swapping stories.




Coming soon: July (planes, trains, and hotels), August (no travel for MrG), and September so far (automobiles).

Where Has Mister Ginger Been?

As you may know, Mister Ginger has changed jobs. Finishing the old job and getting started on the new one has taken more time and energy than Mister Ginger anticipated, and has kept him from watching many movies and from blogging about even the few he’s seen. The good news is that the new job is going very well and it involves two hours every day on public transportation in one of America’s largest cities. The latter aspect will yield some real entertainment for you, dear reader.

For example, in just two weeks of riding the train, Mister Ginger has seen a guy sleeping on a desk in the middle of the downtown transit center (advertising), Mary Katherine Gallagher, and a guy riding the train, facing backwards, drinking a 24 oz PBR.

I hope soon to be back watching films, rating them, and occasionally venting my spleen about stuff.

More on Stranger Than . . .

Bobby raises an interesting point about the ending of Stranger Than Fiction. If you haven’t seen the movie and you don’t want to know how it ends, stop reading now and don’t read the comments on the original Stranger Than Fiction post.

In many ways, Stranger Than is thoroughly postmodern, breaking down barriers between author and subject, inverting expectations, and toying (for lack of a better term) with features of modernity (boy meets girl story, the prevalence of Mies van der Rohe architecture, characters named for mathematicians, the playful GIU interface/overlay imposing structure on an unstructured world).

But I wonder; at what point does posmodernity lead to such an inversion of expectations regarding “Hollywood endings” that stories go full circle back to the Hollywood ending? The viewer recognizes that a story is postmodern (or perhaps quirky) and begins to anticipate that the story will not have the kind of ending where everything is wrapped up in a nice package. That is to say, this kind of quirky story usually (or in its best form, so the viewer thinks) has an ending that is, well, not fully resolved. Stranger, though, inverts the postmodern form itself, providing a happy ending—which is in reality the unexpected ending.

All that to say, as I watched the movie I was pretty certain that Harold would die. So when the author finds a way for him to live, that actually inverted my expectations regarding how a quirky, postmodern movie would play out.

Like I said in the beginning, Stranger Than Fiction would make a great discussion starter (there are many other things in the movie worth discussion if you don't enjoy discussions of postmodern story telling). Or maybe I just can’t enjoy a movie without over thinking it. But that’s why you love me.

Wow, this is like a real blog post. It must be the cold medicine.