Homeland Security

This week on The Bachelor: HOMETOWNS! After last week’s shocking elimination of Emily, Ben will travel to see Lindzi, Kacie, Nicki, and (ugh) Courtney and their families. Who will emerge victorious and continue to next week’s fantasy suite sex auditions? That’s all coming up in my recap, designed to keep me interested in what’s happening.

We begin the journey in Ocala, FL, home of “I came to the first cocktail party on a horse” Lindzi. To be honest, I have seen almost nothing of Lindzi’s personality over the last several weeks, except that in last week’s episode, she called Ben her boyfriend. Sure he is, honey. Anyway, she’s so excited. She waxes on awhile about her breakup that we have heard about once or sixty times, while riding a horse. Aaaaaand, Ben’s here. Lindzi is thrilled that she has planned today’s events instead of the producers Ben planning their events. They go on a carriage ride, and a picnic miraculously appears on the side of the track. The words “walls”, “vulnerability”, “being open”, and “at that point” are tossed around for awhile, and Ben says he saw a “sweet” side of Lindzi that he never has seen before. Blah blah.

Lindzi introduces Ben to her parents as her “boyfriend”. We discover Lindzi’s parents got married at City Hall in San Francisco, where Lindzi and Ben had their first date. What are the odds? The four of them then embark on carriage races, where Lindzi’s parents dominate. Now it’s time for some potentially awkward conversation. Lindzi’s mom likes Ben, but she doesn’t want her to be upset if he chooses someone else. But, for the most part, everyone is happy and Lindzi’s parents congratulate her on “picking” a good guy. Well. Good luck.

Next up, we are in Clarksville, TN, and Kacie’s family. She is excited to see his eyes. How…weird? Anyway, when Ben pulls up and see’s a marching band playing, and there’s Kacie twirling a baton. She goes on to discuss her grandparents and how much they loved each other. Ben is impressed. Kacie is “ready.” We get some foreshadowing about potential conflicts between Ben and Kacie’s dad, who doesn’t drink. Bad news for our wine-maker.

Ominous music plays while Ben chats with Kacie’s family over dinner. Kacie rationalizes her “love” to her sister, who looks a little skeptical. Cut to the conversation between Ben and Kacie’s dad, who looks at Ben the same way one would look at a piece of maggot-infested meat. He makes a good point, by saying that if he doesn’t want to pick her, let her know now. Ben is hoping that Kacie’s mom is easier on him, but no luck. Mrs. B says that she wouldn’t want her to move in with Ben if she were to be declared the “winner.” You know, good for these people. At least they are realistic! Kacie, on the other hand, is not having it. What an unexpected turn of events! The visit ends in uncertainty.

We then enter a Texas stereotype, complete with cowboys and steer, as Ben visits Nicki. Is anyone else surprised Nicki is still on the show? I mean, did he really dislike Emily that much? Not that there’s anything wrong with her, but she hasn’t gotten much screen time until the last two episodes or so. The two go try on cowboy gear, and hit up downtown (?) Fort Worth. Nicki is glittered out, and the two of them drink beer, like all Texans apparently do, and then Ben and Nicki discuss her divorce. Again. Snooze.

Nicki’s mom is into Ben, but she’s concerned about Nicki getting her heart broken. Yeah yeah. Nicki’s dad, on the other hand, is worried about giving his permission to the wrong man again. This goes on for awhile, and Nicki eventually tells Ben that she loves him. He doesn’t say it back, but he has a good impression on the day.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, THE MAIN EVENT. The potential freak show! The WTF moment! Courtney’s house. Um. Hold the phone! Courtney is from Scottsdale!? Ten bucks they end up somewhere around Gainey Ranch. Courtney babbles in her baby voice about how excited she is to see Ben, but Ben says he needs to find out about how Courtney relates to people.

Courtney announces to her family that she likes/loves Ben, but Courtney’s mom isn’t buying it. I admit I zoned out throughout most of this visit. After all of the buildup, it was boring. There was a funky commercial break in the middle of their conversation that snapped me back to attention. We return from the commercial to see Ben and Courtney going on a picnic. There’s a wedding set up at the place, and Courtney just so happens to have paper to write vows, a tie, and rings ready for them to have a . . . fake wedding? Um. That’s really weird. Seriously. But rather than being concerned, Ben’s into it, and recites his beautiful vows. Courtney says her vows, which sort of rhyme, but are fairly prosaic. She says she’s in love with him. Ben tosses the words “open” and “vulnerable” around again. Let’s just forget about the fact that if anyone ever set up a wedding on a date, the guy would be out faster than you could say “psycho!”

We have arrived at the cocktail party. Ben is making a “difficult” decision. At this point, I see Kacie being the one eliminated. And if you’re ready, here’s Ben!

Ben thanks the “ladies” for their visits with their families. Hurry up with it already, Ben.

First rose goes to . . . Courtney! No surprise there. She’s going to shimmy her nastiness right into a proposal. Mark my words. Second rose goes to, Lindzi, which leaves Nicki and Kacie left. Who will it be?!

And the final rose goes to . . . Nicki! I knew it! “What the f*** happened!?” Kacie shrieks, as she ugly cries her way to the airport. You know what, Kacie, you are better off. You have good parents. You’ll find someone. Farewell! Here's wishing you a hot drum major.

We get a preview of next week, which finds our merry harem traveling to Switzerland. Looks like it’ll be nice and drama filled. Who do you think has the good(ie)s to take on Courtney? It’s all next week on THE BACHELOR.

2012

I'm back! Every year, I decide that I should blog more, if not because people are wildly interested in what's going on in my head, but because I should exercise my brain and challenge myself to put thoughts on paper..er...text box. However, I am making no such goal for 2012, and do you know why? Because we are all going to die*! That's right, everyone! According to the Mayan calendar, come December 21, we are all going down. So how to spend the last year of my life? Certainly not in front of a computer!

THINGS TO GET OUT OF THE WAY BEFORE THE APOCALYPSE

1) Curb addiction to Peter Piper Pizza. Do this by eating it until it can no longer be stood.

2) Cuddle with my cat. With the way he runs into walls, it's unlikely he'll make it.

3) Platonically cuddle with Zack Thompson, Erica "Steele", and Jen Soon-to-no-longer-be-Lake. Who knows if we'll recognize each other in Heaven. It's been so long already.

4) Even though Ashton Seip will undoubtedly kick Armageddon in its face, I'll watch a sunset with her, just in case. Preferably from an insane height.

5) Make an insane batch of Macaroni and Cheese. I don't see dairy products holding up in a state of nuclear winter.

6) Homewreck one of the Hansons. If I have a choice, Zac. Listen to their music exclusively. It's really the only thing I like besides showtunes. Judge if you will. It's the Apocalypse. I do what I want.

7) Spend a ridiculous amount of money on something frivolous. I mean, more than I already do. Everyone knows bread will be the currency of choice at the end of the world. Also, open a bakery.

8) Sing Christmas carols to Amy "Grinchy Claus" Gallagher. Perhaps wear orange while doing so. We won't make it until next Christmas for her to complain about them.

9) Watch How I Met Your Mother in chronological order with Brigitte. Have an argument over who gets to hypothetically get with Marshall. Entertainment is bound to be thin on the ground at the End.

10) Get accepted to Hogwarts. This speaks for itself.


So that's it, Ladies and Gentlemen. And may the odds be ever in my favor. Happy New Year!








*In no way do I believe the world is ending.

That's What She Read: 13 Reasons Why

So, I just spent my Friday night finishing up Jay Asher’s wildly popular young adult book, Thirteen Reasons Why. In hindsight, as this book is about suicide, and staying at home by yourself on a Friday night is already a shaky topic, this may not have been a great idea, but alas, I press on.

For the last two years, I’ve seen this book everywhere. When I was teaching sixth grade, at least two or three of the kids read it, and I know at least one or two read it last year when I moved to teaching seventh grade. At any rate, I knew it was popular, and now I know why.

Thirteen Reasons Why tells the story of Clay, who receives a mysterious box of cassette tapes in the mail. When he begins to listen to them, he hears the voice of Hannah, a girl at his high school who, two weeks before, committed suicide. It is revealed that Hannah has made the tapes to give the reason for her suicide, so each person who played a role in her decision is able hear exactly why they affected her.

I finished the book ten minutes ago, so I’m not sure if I can adequately say why I'm uncomfortable, but I think that I can’t decide if it sends the correct message about suicide. At the end of the book, the reader can see exactly why Hannah chooses to end her life, but I am not sure if she is celebrated for doing so, if she is pitied, or what. The problem with this sort of vague storytelling, is that the actions that Hannah chooses for expressing herself post-suicide, could possibly seem romantic to the emotionally fragile people it is geared towards.

Who hasn’t wanted to tell everyone who has hurt them in some way exactly how they feel about it, with no consequences? I’m not sure there is anyone alive who hasn’t thought about it. In her death, Hannah gets to live out something that I know I have fantasized about (not the suicide, but the tape making). And here is where we get into trouble. I know that I was not the only high schooler that struggled with depression. In fact, I can see my high school self doing something totally similar in reaction to a few incidents that happened toward the end – something that reading this book would have only strengthened. So, in the end, would the book, intended to help, have hurt me, had I read it in that frame of mind? I don’t know.

On the flip side, this book does do something positive, and that is that it shows people exactly how their actions, even the smallest or seemingly innocent, can have a profound effect on others, and I know that I thought of a few things that I have done out of not wanting to be inconvenienced that could have been hurtful to someone else. But, does this concept outweigh the potential romanticizing of suicide?

Actually, I’m not sure the suicide is romanticized. Clay and the other characters mentioned appear to be deeply affected by what goes on. Their grief is profound and palpable. But, are young people able to recognize the difference?

In any case, I am not sure how I feel recommending this book to my students. I know they would like it, and race through it, but would it help?

Top Five Movies I Wish I Had Walked Out Of

I am reasonably picky about what movies I go see. You will not see me darkening the door of Transformers 3. I’d rather eat puffed rice cereal exclusively for the rest of the year than pay to sit through Pirates of the Caribbean 4. How did I become this jaded? Easy. I have paid to have my brain assaulted by too many questionable films. Before I came to my senses, I would describe my willingness to sit through bad movies as reasonably high. Ok. Very high. Suffice it to say, I have plunked myself down in front of a few movies that I wish I could unwatch (I will NEVER forgive Todd Phillips for The Hangover II. Never.), but what does it take in order to give a movie the ultimate “screw you”, the walk out?

I wouldn't know. But, here are the top five movies I wish I had walked out of.


5) Across the Universe. This Beatles-themed musical tells the story of (Hey!) Jude, who, in a trip to the USA to find his father, rooms with another guy in an apartment rented from (sexy!) Sadie. He ends up falling in love with his roommate’s sister Lucy (in the sky with diamonds!). They join forces with another roommate, (Dear!) Prudence, living a rad, trippy lifestyle. When her brother gets sent to Vietnam (Uncle Sam wants him so bad), Lucy becomes a radical, driving a wedge between her and Jude. They break up and Jude gets deported. Misery ensues, until Jude is allowed to come back (because all you need is love?) and Lucy serenades him from a rooftop. Because, you know, The Beatles.

The real problem with this movie is that it’s basically playing Mad Libs with the Beatles catalogue, to the point that when “Strawberry Fields Forever” is wedged in, Jude is literally just painting strawberries on a wall. That’s it. You cannot invest in characters that are doing nothing but speaking in Beatles song title puns. Far from wanting them to “Please, Please Me”, you want them to “Get Back”.


4) Garden State. Ok, so I didn’t see this in the theater, but I wish I had just so I could have walked out (technically, I did, since I didn’t actually finish watching it, but this is neither here nor there). Despite this, I feel ok critiquing it simply because at the time it was released, I was about to be a freshman in college, which (I think) is the movie’s intended audience. Unless you know of another group of people who are impressed with themselves for no reason, believe that Dashboard Confessional understands their soul, and despite the fact that people around them perceive their crazy, they insist that they are “just me!” You know, the sorrow is sexy crowd (note: it’s not). Anyway, Zach Braff (scribe and director) travels back to New Jersey for his mother’s funeral, bonds/falls in love(?) with an insufferably annoying quirky Natalie Portman, stops taking his Prozac, and is freed from the “numbness” of his mundane life. They meet “eccentric” characters, have “adventures”, discuss “feelings”. You know, things you can’t do in your regular life. Basically, it’s stock and thin, with nothing but two-dimensional characters (you know, “sad”, “weird”, “lazy”) and a soundtrack that is just as underwhelming as the character development. And a guy shoots flaming arrows for no reason. And Zach Braff can’t swim. It’s symbolic. Gag me.


3) Four Christmases. I blame seeing this movie on a combination of a Thanksgiving Day, tryptophan-induced stupor and a poor recommendation from my brother, who, while spending Thanksgiving with his girlfriend’s family, saw this movie and told us that it “wasn’t that bad.” Allow me to disagree, John Cunningham.

Families are weird, right!? I mean, seriously. Weird. How does anyone put up with them? Well, Reese Witherspoon and Vince Vaughn don’t! Instead, they have kinky sex, party extravagantly, and banter! It’s the American dream, right? And, best of all, they aren’t shackled by those people that created them. Instead of spending Christmas with them, the two jaunt on a Caribbean vacation, but when fog grounds their flight, their families see them on TV, know they aren’t inseminating cows in India or whatever story they made up, and thus, Reese and Vince have to visit all four families on the same day. The horror! We have the stereotypical poor family, religious family (complete with the now-ubiquitous foul-mouthed grandparent), the hippie family. All they needed was for one of the parents to have become a homosexual. In any case, after learning simple things about each other, meeting each other’s families for the first time (What, no one had a brunch or something?? Ever?), Vince and Reese break up and get back together in time to learn that they are having a baby, the one thing they never wanted! But, of course they are suddenly ok with it now. Oh, and Vince Vaughn wrestles Jon Favreau. They fall off a roof. It’s hilarious. Or not. Honestly, I think everyone would be better off if they re-released Home Alone every year at Thanksgiving than putting up with that kind of garbage.



2) August Rush. In this film, we meet a pair of twenty-somethings (played by Keri Russell and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers), who after a one night stand on a moldy couch, can’t seem to get their lives together, remaining star-crossed for many years. Of course, after their night of uncomfortable all-consuming passion, Keri Russell’s character is pregnant, but through a series of unfortunate events, her father determines that his daughter’s “dream” of becoming a world-class cello player must come first, and manages to have her baby put up for adoption without her knowledge, because you know, dads can do that. The baby grows up to be some sort of musical prodigy, escaping from his orphanage because he needs to “feel the music” and sure that his parents will “find him” and love him or something equally asinine. In any case, through a series of unfortunate events (the least of which being Robin Williams’s presence in this film), he ends up at Julliard, and conducting the New York Philharmonic after instantly learning to read and write music. And what do you know? Keri Russell, world famous (?) cellist is also playing at this event. Even though August doesn’t get to the concert until after Keri plays, all hope is not lost. Miraculously, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers (having left his indeterminable million dollar business) is there too, having seen the his true love’s name (that he met and had sex with that one time) they see each other from across the park, smitten in love, and just know that it’s their son up there. And, as if by magic, August turns around, sees them, and he just knows that it’s his parents.

Seriously. That’s what happens. Not only is the story impossible, but the lynchpin is that you are suppose to care about two people who had sex one time and now they’re supposed to be together. I mean, really! Not only that, have either of these two people forgotten how to use a phone book? The internet? EMAIL!? Why, after their missed encounter, do they simply give up looking if they are supposed to be soul mates? I mean, Keri Russell is supposed to be world famous! You are telling me she’s nowhere to be found on the WWW? If you google image my name it finds a picture of me. I imagine that world class cellists are even easier to creep on.

This might be the worst movie of all time, behind my number 1 . . .


1) A.I.: Artificial Intelligence. It was a cloudy July day in 2001, when my friend Sara Gandy and I flipped a coin between seeing this movie and seeing Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. Guess what won?

Anyway, I wonder if Dakota Fanning saw this movie and got scared for her own career? I mean, Haley Joel Osment is apparently some sort of drug dealer now, and he didn’t even bother getting naked or gay in a movie to legitimize his career. But anyway, that’s beside the point . . .

A.I. takes place in the near future, and, if I remember correctly, Haley Joel is a robot child that is programmed to love (a precursor to Data’s Star Trekkian emotion chip??) He is bought by a man and woman whose real son is sick, apparently to fill the void? It’s never clear. There is an adjustment period, but eventually, the mom “imprints” on Haley Joel, and swears to be his mommy for all eternity. All is well until her real son is miraculously healed and decides that the evil robot child must die. They attempt to send him back, but when the mother finds out the robot will be destroyed, she leaves him, baby Moses style, in the woods. It’s compassion at its finest. Then Robot-boy meets “Joe the Gigolo” (Jude Law in a typecasted role), a sex robot, and naturally, go looking for the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio because, you know. She’s real? Or it’s terrible symbolism. Either way. Eventually, the two stumble upon Manhattan, underwater and half destroyed, but miraculously, the robot creator is there just hanging out! Score! After finding out that he’s not really special, Robot Boy decides to commit robot suicide by jumping into the ocean (he’s saved by a school of fish. No joke). In sheer frustration, he drives a police mobile into the ocean and gets trapped underwater at Coney Island, saying “Please Blue Fairy, make me a real boy” to the depths. And you think the movie is over. Alas! No! Two thousand years later (still not kidding), future space alien robots save him from the ice and use some hair trapped forever in his Teddy Ruxpin-like toy to bring his mommy back for one day. She reads him a story. Then she dies. And yes, this is effing ridiculous.

There are so many things wrong with this movie that I’m not sure I can list them all here. The robots have to obey, but sometimes not, when it’s convenient for plot. The concepts of love are infantile, with it being no more than just saying “mommy, you’re pretty!” or something of that nature. And let’s not forget the ending, which does absolutely nothing to wrap up whatever theme is going on (but I suppose it is sort of Oedipal?). And Jude Law is a sex robot. Sex. Robot. Awful.



I've sat through a lot of crap. A lot of crap. But these five films live forever as, by far, the worst movies I have ever had the displeasure of seeing in a theater.


Honorable Mentions:

Sweet November
Hangover Part II
Date Movie

Weird = Sexy?

Recently, my friend Amy Gallagher and I saw the movie Submarine, a British film about a kid navigating his parents' marital difficulties and his first relationship. On the whole, really enjoyed the movie. Highly recommend it if you like quirky, awkward, Michael Cera-like acting with an indie soundtrack. However, this film was another installment in a series of movies I've seen in which the main girl is supposed to be quirky, but, in fact, if anyone were to act that way in real life, would be a psycho (and certainly not dating!). And yet, in the movie, the guy is attracted to the girl's weirdness, and they live happily and weirdly ever after. Where is this actually happening in real life? Nowhere.

Exhibit A - Ally Sheedy's character, The Breakfast Club


She is affectionately referred to as "the basket case" when the Breakfast Club is discussed, and, make no mistake, she lives up to the name. I'm sorry, but every time I see her "snow" her picture with her own dandruff, it releases disgust previously tethered. There is a reason she gets a makeover in the movie - she's a freak! But her freakishness doesn't stop Emilio Estevez (the Jock) from wanting to jump her by the end. Let me just say that in real life, if anyone was shaking their own dandruff all over the place, the last thing they would be doing is having sex. They'd be institutionalized.



Exhibit B - Charlene Yi. Movie: Paper Heart

I can't tell if Charlene Yi is a SPED or not. And that's in real life and in this movie. Seriously. Not a good sign. I mean, I know she gets with Michael Cera in the movie, who is also a weirdo (do not get me started on not understanding the appeal of his schtick anymore), but it is widely known that people like Michael Cera (who, incidentally, is playing himself in the movie) can easily date UP. Otherwise, how would his characters in movies be dating people way more attractive than he is? She stumbles and stutters and gives weirdo looks at the camera during the whole movie. There is just no way anyone could find this attractive in real life. Well. Maybe at Comic-Con?



Exhibit C - Yasmin Paige's character, Jordana, in Submarine

Ok. I DO. NOT. GET. THIS. Jordana, in the movie, is a self-proclaimed pyromaniac, who spends most of the movie bullying, verbally abusing and staring sardonically at the other characters. She's smug. And she - get this - burns the leg hair off of her boyfriend. As in sets it on fire. And everyone is ok with this and thinks it's super attractive. She has two or three boyfriends throughout the movie. Now say I was at a gathering, armed with a lighter, and approached various males and attempted to burn shapes in their leg hair. I'm pretty sure this wouldn't be well received. Do you know why? Because it's weird.

What do we learn from this? I'm not sure. But the word needs to be out there that these are not socially acceptable behaviors and are not going to help you land a quirky, awkward man. I don't care how quirky or awkward he is. He could be Data from Star Trek (he's an android, for all of you non-Trekkies out there) and it wouldn't matter. No one thinks these things are attractive. Don't do them in real life.

Breast Cancer Awareness?

This week, I got into it about the "breast cancer awareness" bracelets with a student (culminating in my saying a few things that were probably better left unsaid). When I see someone wearing them in class, I take them. I HATE these bracelets. When I went to go find the picture of them for this post, I found out that the ACLU is in the middle of a case about them, deciding whether or not they should be allowed in schools. What a great use of their time.

Here are the facts. Breast cancer is, undoubtedly, a prevalent and extremely emotional issue. People should, and do, have every right to support family members or other people close to them who have been affected by this disease, the repercussions of which are obviously very real and personal. And this is where it gets dicey. Should you be allowed to say and wear whatever you want about it? Should every single piece of terminology describing it be considered appropriate?

As a teacher, I am held to a certain standard. I cannot discuss my religion, my political views, or really anything personal that could be considered offensive to my students. Is that appropriate? Sure. My job isn't to proselytize, but to teach a certain subject. So, shouldn't students also be held to a standard? When you have a job, there are certain things that the company says are and are not appropriate for work. As a student, school is your job. Shouldn't the school be allowed to make that call? I think so. We say they cannot wear clothing that is overly sexual, contains gang or drug references, nor are they allowed to wear shirts with weapons. Does the word "boobies" fall into the same category? I think it does.

Here is the problem with the bracelets. They are marketed towards young people, who are not emotionally mature enough to handle the terminology. The makers of the bracelets know this, and also know that there are probably a handful of middle school students who have been affected by breast cancer and will want to support it. What happens next is a perfect storm. You have thirteen-year-old boys who genuinely do "heart boobies" and are wearing the bracelets just to say so, and you have other students, particularly girls, for whom the message isn't a sexual thing and might genuinely want to raise awareness about breast cancer. Where does this leave the manufacturers? Rich! Their bracelets are scooped up by every kid who knows you can't make a judgment about their motivation, and are able to potentially sexually harass or simply be disrespectful about wearing them all under the guise of "awareness".

My points are two things. There is no reason that you can't support breast cancer, and it doesn't have to be with the word "boobies". There are plenty of other avenues out there that aren't meant to be controversial and do the job just as well. The second is that if we allow boobies, what's next? Personally, I think that every students who wants to wear a boobies bracelet should also be required to wear bracelets for every other type of cancer. Something tells me that the same boys are not going to be down for bracelets that say "I Heart Buttholes" for anal cancer and "I Heart Dicks" for prostate cancer, which by the way, has as many annual cases as breast cancer, according to the National Cancer Institute. There is a company that is marketing "I heart Balls" for testicular cancer - I haven't seen one of those pop up at school yet.

Students need to be taught the difference between appropriate and inappropriate controversy. Awareness to foster discussion is not the same as marketing towards emotionally immature people, and the manufacturers ought to be ashamed.

That's What She Read - The Help

I know I am the last person to read Katheryn Stockett’s debut novel The Help, a story about three women in Jackson, Mississippi during the Civil Rights Movement, but late to the table or not, I am so glad I decided to sit down.

The story is about three women: Aibileen, a black maid working for a white family; Minny, her saucy best friend, also a maid for a white family; and Eugenia “Skeeter” Phelan, a fresh college graduate, returning home to find that her maid, Constantine, who raised her, has mysteriously disappeared. Aibileen has just lost her only son, Minny is facing trying to find a job when her reputation for talking back precedes her, and Skeeter is trying to find her place while attempting to begin a career in writing. Through getting a job at the local newspaper writing a housekeeping advice column, Skeeter strikes up a tentative friendship with Aibileen (her friend Elizabeth’s maid), who helps her write the column. Later, the two of them begin a project writing a book about the relationship between white women and their maids, all while trying to protect themselves from the racial tension of Jackson.

I wish I could demand everyone read this book. Stockett is wonderful at drawing rich, three-dimensional characters, who each have flaws and learn something about themselves as the story proceeds. She also accurately portrays relationships between women, some close, some toxic, and the importance of remembering that the characters are a part of a bigger picture. Abuse, cancer, abandonment, broken engagements, miscarriage, death, infertility, and rejection are tackled with both sensitivity and frankness – something sincerely lacking in today’s literary market. Younger readers will also learn something about the climate of the south during the Civil Rights Movement, and hopefully be able to appreciate how far our country has come. What I enjoyed most about the book though, is that ultimately, each character is able to look forward with unbounding hope, having formed close bonds in the most unlikely places along the way – something we can all relate to.