National Treasure (movie review)

So I was back at Dick Hannah's getting Razz a new viscous coupler (we name the cars in our family), and decided to see National Treasure at the neighboring mall, with my friend Dave Fabik, a Quaker vietvet.

Like Polar Express, you need to see this as a film for kids -- which makes me suspicious there'll be some theme park ride deriving from it (in the case of the train movie, I'd vote for a real roller coaster over a simulator). In the guise of this somewhat formulaic vehicle, Disney clues newbies that there really is such a thing as intellectual history, that it glues monuments and documents together (by making sense of them), and that it includes such things as secret societies and their cryptic teachings. Indeed, our shared treasure is the historical record itself and what it tells us about ourselves as human beings -- and portends for our future (the booby prize is the big house and fancy car).

On a more adult plane, Multnomah Friends are looking at buying a Masonic Lodge across the street, or risk losing the parking lot (Masons use it Saturdays, which works well, but what if they sell to a competing Sunday user?). The deal hasn't closed -- still processing. Last night I passed on to the clerk my two cents that it'd be worth it to have the deepest pipes snaked to make sure all the under-street plumbing is in working order. In our century-old neighborhoods, that's really not a given, a fact houses on either side of ours have recently had to deal with. When I shared this Friendly concern with Dave he joked that instead of "eye in the sky" my viewpoint was more "camera in the sewer."

And speaking of real national treasure, I phoned Ed Applewhite from the Barnes and Noble (a segue to my next post). He's feeling upbeat that Fuller's legacy is, now more than ever, irrevocable (and I concur). However, Ed himself is starting to say his good byes. We've enjoyed a strong friendship, and I look forward to staying in touch with his kids.