Cliche'd, I know, but this was, by far, the best movie of the year. And for all the reasons everyone else has mentioned. And the book was even better.

Yet another reason to avoid fast-food restaurants, particularly Burger King:

In 2005, Florida tomato pickers gained their first significant pay raise since the late 1970s when Taco Bell ended a consumer boycott by agreeing to pay an extra penny per pound for its tomatoes, with the extra cent going directly to the farm workers. Last April, McDonald’s agreed to a similar arrangement, increasing the wages of its tomato pickers to about 77 cents per bucket. But Burger King, whose headquarters are in Florida, has adamantly refused to pay the extra penny — and its refusal has encouraged tomato growers to cancel the deals already struck with Taco Bell and McDonald’s.

This month the Florida Tomato Growers Exchange, representing 90 percent of the state’s growers, announced that it will not allow any of its members to collect the extra penny for farm workers. Reggie Brown, the executive vice president of the group, described the surcharge for poor migrants as “pretty much near un-American.”

...

Now the Florida Tomato Growers Exchange has threatened a fine of $100,000 for any grower who accepts an extra penny per pound for migrant wages. The organization claims that such a surcharge would violate “federal and state laws related to antitrust, labor and racketeering.” It has not explained how that extra penny would break those laws; nor has it explained why other surcharges routinely imposed by the growers (for things like higher fuel costs) are perfectly legal.

What's ironic is that while Burger King refuses to take a stand in support of farm workers, it been relatively vocal on better treatment for chickens and pigs. Until they change their mind, Burger King is off my list, as are Florida tomatoes.

This was a sweet movie, but I got annoyed with the cheesey and sappy pie device that was used to explain the thoughts and feelings of the main character. It was about as subtle as a sledgehammer. I suppose I would have felt differently if I was much of a baker.

Carrie Brownstein doesn't like Radiohead, or White Noise.

In the middle of band practice at my house tonight, we heard a weird sound. It sounded, well, you know what, in the movies, five gunshots in rapid succession sounds like? It sounded like that.

After a bit of "Should we call the police?" "What would we tell them?" "Maybe it was a car backfiring. Five times." we decided to get back to rehearsing, until about 20 minutes later Stephanie wandered over to the window and said, "There's a police car at the end of the block."

Make that five police cars, and the concomitant number of cops milling around the house on the corner, shining flashlights in every direction. We spent a good ten minutes ZOMGing, scrambling from window to window to get a better view, and spinning wilder and wilder fantasies about what might be going on a couple hundred feet away from our house. Finally I decided to call the Providence Police to see what was going on.

Phone ringing
Woman: This is Diane.
Me: Um, hi. Hello. Yes. Um, I'm trying to reach the Providence Police?
Woman: This is.
Me: Oh! OK. Um. Yes, I live on [my street], and I can't help but notice that there seem to be several police cars and several officers at the end of the block. Is something going on? Is it safe to leave our house?
Woman: [my street]?
Me: Yes.
Woman: Yeeeeah. Yup, we do have some things occurring, but it's nothing you need to concern yourself with. [emphasis mine]
Me: (pause) So... we should just go about our business?
Woman: Yup.
Me: (pause) Thanks?

So, there you have it. Some things occurred on my street tonight. I feel so much safer.