Lessons learned

#1 "Eh" is also a reply.

#2 There is no such thing as "donut holes" in Canada--they're "Timbits" (sold at the ubiquitous Tim Hortons). Say the former and you'll get blank stares.

#3 Canadians are honest. I happened to ask about my wallet again today at the theater and it was turned in since last I checked--cash money in tact!

Highlights of the day

Me: Watching a great doc about surrogate mothers in India impregnated with embryos created in the United States from U.S. egg donors and sperm sent from Israel. Interesting issues to explore! It's called Google Baby and I hope it gets distribution so that it will be accessible.

Josh: Making Ricky Gervais laugh! Really.

The Road

I just got back from the North American premiere of The Road. Even though Cormac McCarthy wasn't there (though it was reported he really did want to be), it was very exciting. I was maybe three rows back from the stage, where John Hillcoat (director), Viggo Mortenson ("The Man"), Kodi Smit-McPhee ("The Boy"), and Robert Duvall ("Old Man") introduced the film.

I read the book pre-Zoë. Watching the movie after becoming a parent had me crying from image one, when The Man settles The Boy in a sleeping bag. It was a long emotional journey to follow and a great film--austerely beautiful, amazingly acted, and intelligently adapted.

In the QA at the end, John Hillcoat talked about McCarthy's involvement. McCarthy didn't have anything to do with the script, so when Hillcoat et al held a private screening for him in New Mexico, it was the first time he'd seen anything. Hillcoat said he disappeared immediately after the screening for 15 minutes while the filmmakers practically died wondering what he thought. After he came back (from the restroom), he told them he loved it and a "seven hour lunch" ensued.

The really interesting thing to me, considering how little we hear about McCarthy's personal life is that he came to set one day with his son, who Hillcoat said called McCarthy "Papa" and interacted with his father in a similar way as the pair in the book--he was very inquisitive, etc. Also, there were only 4 lines that after seeing the movie McCarthy said were missing. (I'm paraphrasing here because I don't have the book with me):

Papa, what would you do if I died?
I would want to die too.
So that you could be with me?
Yes, so I could be with you.

I love knowing that McCarthy thought those were so important.

Oh, not as interested in McCarthy as me?

Okay, here are some other things going on at TIFF:

• Cleanflix has had two very well-attended public screenings with great audience response and questions. I will obviously do a whole post on this--I just wanted to get the above down before I forgot it.
• My wallet with $1,000 cash for the movie was stolen at the Cleanflix premiere. Who would have thunk that I shouldn't have put my purse under my seat? Apparently, it's a common problem.
• Tonight Zoë watched her first football game with "Ti Ti" (Kristin, her au pair on the trip). She liked watching the ball being throw and kicked but as soon as anyone was tackled, she couldn't stop saying "ow, ow, ow . . ."
• We're staying in China Town and the food is delicious (Zoë's new favorite food is Chinese dumplings).

New old-phone

I'm low maintenance when it comes to my cellular needs. That's why for the last 2 1/2 years I've had a phone with a cracked camera (just made it that much easier to tell mine apart from Josh's), a scratched body from being dropped dozens of times while doing yard work, and a very partial list of contacts. I know I'm old fashioned, but I prefer to speak out loud on my phone while physically holding it to my ear after having dialed the number of a friend from memory.

Then my phone was baptized (by immersion) in the always clogged gutter by my house and three weeks of being buried in a bowl of rice couldn't save it. So I begrudgingly made a trip to the Verizon store the other day, thinking all the while "a phone is the last thing I should be spending money on right now" only to find--to my utter delight--that the upgrade on my account meant there was a model I could get for FREE. Not send-in-a-rebate free or pay-this-tax free or buy-some-accessory and get it free--no, free in the sense of the word that advertisers never use.

With that lovely four-letter word ringing in my head, I barely even glanced at the actual phone being handed to me along with the description "This is a very, very basic phone. It doesn't even have a camera." No problem, thought I. I have a Nikon to do my picture taking, thank you. What's more, I have a laptop to take care of my written communication (does texting only bother me so much because I can type 250,000X faster?). And my daughter is attempting to stand in the 2-inch space between the phone case display and the wall to the significant detriment of the display. Grab phone, exit store. Mission accomplished!

It wasn't until I got home that I realized that "basic" was as true a characterization of my new phone as "special" is of someone with "special needs." It didn't tell the whole story. One of the first things that caught my eye was the button labeled ICE. Permanent access to Vanilla Ice songs, I hoped? No, it's a list of "In Case of Emergency" contacts. Then I started noticing that the keypad is sort of rippled to allow for easier manipulation of individual keys. Also, the display screen constantly shines my own number back to me and when I go to font size, I have the following wealth of options:

• Normal
• Large

Guess which one is selected? Let's just say that when I change the already 15-point font to Large, the h in Josh doesn't have much breathing room on my contact list.

So, rather than just "basic," the salesman should have said "basically made for the over-80 crowd." And really, I'm fine with that. While I do identify with some of my material possessions, my phone isn't (and doesn't have to be) one of them.

I am rather surprised, however, that Verizon would send me home with a phone featuring a big fat red glowing 911 button at the top of its keypad. It should be illegal to give such phones away to people with children under 25. It's all I can do to stop myself from pressing it for crying out loud!

So if sirens peel around my corner and paramedics rush into my house some quiet evening while I'm cooking dinner and Zoë is otherwise occupied, I suppose I have only my own frugality to blame.

Really?

The second FAQ on the Niagra Falls website is thus:

Q: Are the Falls turned off at night?

A: No

Do you think a) it's a joke, b) people really ask that question, or c) the question is referring to lights and not water? Really a or c would be fine.