for your consideration: tinker tailor soldier spy.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011 StudioCanal/Working Title Films)
In the bleak days of the Cold War, espionage veteran George Smiley is forced from semi-retirement to uncover a Soviet agent within MI6.
Starring Gary Oldman, Colin Firth and Tom Hardy.
Directed by Tomas Alfredson. Produced by Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner & Robyn Slovo. Screenplay by Brittany O’Connor & Peter Straughan. Based on the novel by John le Carré.

I’ve pretty much resigned myself to the fact that films adapted from novels I’ve never read are going to leave me in the dark on about 60 percent of what the hell is going on in the movie version of the story. At least that’s how I felt coming out of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a masterpiece on its own level, but even I was aware there’s only so much the director is going to be able to tell me. C’est la vie, I suppose.

Set in Europe in the early 1970s, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy opens with a disheveled, old spy named Control—portrayed brilliantly by John Hurt in his too-few scenes—summoning a charge to carry out a dangerous mission in Budapest. The mission: find the mole. From there, the story of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy unfolds in nonlinear fashion, moving back and forth through time with little indication of where you are in the story. Well, Smiley’s glasses are the giveaway as to whether we’re in the past or the present.

True to what you’d expect from a novel adaptation, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy’s characters all have a depth that simply cannot be conveyed in a two-hour movie. Director Tomas Alfredson keeps it tied together somewhat, but everything is such a sprint that the big payoff moments leave you more with a meh feeling than a crescendo. Thus was the case for most of the movie. Despite all the quick turns from present to past back to present and again, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy sort of plodded along the trail. This long, slow windup just didn’t deliver the big Ah-Ha! moment I was hoping for.

Having not read the book, I felt at a decided disadvantage to those fanbois on the Internet fawning over this movie.

Gary Oldman plays George Smiley, a former agent drummed out of “the Circus” along with Control over a botched mission. Oldman’s Smiley is an icy, expressionless figure who commands respect and a little fear from those he meets.

While Oldman’s performance certainly is worthy of an Oscar nomination, I was most taken by two supporting performances. Tom Hardy (yes, that Tom Hardy) and Benedict Cumberbatch deliver two of the most powerful performances in the film. Hardy, as the elusive Ricki Tarr, is nerve wracking as an exposed agent with nowhere to hide. As Peter Guillam, the loyal operative to Smiley, Cumberbatch is intriguing and engaging. He, by far, brings the most emotion and suspense into Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Quite a feat in a movie boasting Oldman and Colin Firth. Firth, by the way, is solid as Bill Haydon. But the ensemble nature of Tinker sort of drowns him out. Honestly, I forgot he was in the movie, at times.

I liked this movie, but mostly felt relieved when it was over. Not because it was an emotional rollercoaster, but because I was able to finally put all the pieces together at the very end. Like I said, nonlinear storytelling can be great. But sometimes it’s a distraction. In the case of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy—a very elaborate, intricate, highly-detailed story—it served more as a distraction. But the performances were great. My advice: pay close attention and take note.

RATING: *** (out of 5)

dear mitt romney: my tax rate’s bigger than yours.

Since Mitt Romney released his tax returns, liberals and Democrats have used him as the focal point of discussion around taxation in America. It’s a fair game when you consider Romney is running for president. Truth is, I’m not shocked he paid less than 15 percent in taxes. If anything, it verified what most of us already believe: rich people have the wherewithal to work the system to pay less in taxes than the rest of us.

Out of curiosity, I ran the numbers on my 2011 income taxes. Turns out I paid 19.9 percent in state and federal taxes. Just like Warren Buffet’s secretary, I paid taxes at a higher rate than the rich people.

People might argue it’s my own fault for paying more than Romney because I don’t earn more money, or I should get more creative when I do my taxes. Well, wouldn’t that be nice?

Look, I’m the average American. I go to work. I pay my bills. I live within my means, try to save a few bucks. And once a year, I do my taxes. I don’t have an accountant, but I’ll spend $50 on TurboTax to file my income taxes.

What’s my point: that’s how most Americans do it. So why does it feel like we, the middle class, are getting hosed when we’re trying to do everything the right way? A guy who made $21 million last year and never lifted anything heavier than piece of paper paid taxes at a lower rate than middle class Americans. The same middle class Americans who live with daily anxiety over their jobs and the prospect of being unemployed at the drop of a hat. These people, like me, paid taxes at a higher rate than Mitt Romney.

This is not a cry for redistribution of wealth, or socialism or anything like that. Rather, this is a cry for fairness. When school systems are getting cut to the bone and our nation’s infrastructure is crumbling, we learn the top percent of wage earners also pay less in taxes than us.

Most middle class Americans aren’t even asking for a tax cut (a favorite GOP staple). We’re asking for the one percenters to pay at least what we pay.

It’s time to level the playing field. I could only hope Congressional Democrats and Republicans would have the courage to do what’s right and close the loopholes that favor the one percenters.

A boy can dream, eh?

better to deal with pats fans than baltimorons.

If you were to take too seriously all the activity on Twitter and Facebook since Sunday night. you’d think the entire city of Indianapolis was locking down in fear/anger/frustration of the pending invasion of New England Patriots fans.

Yeah, it’s going to suck a little bit (okay, a lot) having to deal with smug Pats fans who drink the media-brewed Kool-Aid on all their greatness (for a team that hasn’t won a Super Bowl since 2005, FYI). I’m not taking anything away from their achievements. Rather, pointing out it’s been awhile since they’ve been the best.

Truth is, I’d rather have to endure a week of Patriots fans than a week of the awful, insufferable, hypocritical, chip-on-their-shoulder, bitter, ignorant Baltimore fans. Ravens fans seem to derive more pleasure in their hatred of the Indianapolis Colts than they do in their own team’s success (a Super Bowl championship 11 years ago).

It’s easy to put the Pats fans in their place. Show them a calendar. It’s been eight years since New England won a Super Bowl. In recent years, the Colts have owned the Patriots. Prior to this season without Manning, the Colts won five of the last seven against the Pats. And who could forget the 2007 AFC Championship game, when the Pats got beat at the RCA Dome?

Dealing with Baltimorons is completely different because logic, reason and facts mean nothing to them. They still hate Indianapolis because Bob Irsay did them dirty. That’d be fine, except they turned around and did the Cleveland even worse. “We didn’t take the team name.” Big whoop. Leaving the team name/records wasn’t done in the 80s when teams relocated. Before they were the Arizona Cardinals, they were the St. Louis Cardinals. And before they were the St. Louis Cardinals, they were the Chicago Cardinals. The Rams didn’t become someone else when they moved from LA to St. Louis. The Raiders were always the Raiders, no matter if it was in Oakland or LA. The Oilers didn’t become the Titans until they got a permanent home in Tennessee. And Houston didn’t reclaim the Oilers name after that happened. But what am I saying? Baltimore fans just like to hold a grudge. Remember their arrogance back in 2007? Even after getting beat, they still can’t let it go. Even after stealing another team, they can’t let it go.

So I’m find with the Patriots winning the AFC. But I’ll be giddy if Eli beats the Patriots again. Go Giants!

winning ugly.

No such thing as a bad win, right? At least I agree with that statement. Even if it’s an ugly, bloody, messy game, whenever you can chalk one in the ‘W’ column, you’ve done your job for that particular game. Winning ugly is still a win.

That’s how I view tonight’s IUPUI Jaguars women’s basketball victory over Southern Utah. It wasn’t pretty. It was downright sloppy, at times. And I wasn’t sure if our team could pull it out. But somewhere around the middle of the second half, the Jags defense came alive and began to play with intensity. In the end, they knocked off the Thunderbirds 56-49.

I give lots of credit to Southern Utah. They didn’t play like a team that was 0-6 in the conference coming into the game. Right up to the end, they never quit. IUPUI is not 3-4 in the conference, but in eighth place in the conference.

It’s weird to see IUPUI currently clinging to the #8 seed in both men’s and women’s basketball. It wasn’t so long ago these teams squared off against the evil, awful Oral Roberts University for the conference championship. Now, they’re fighting for dear life just to make the tournament!

I love what both coaches—Todd Howard (MBB) and Austin Parkinson (WBB)—are trying to put together. Coach Parkinson’s already brought this team quite a distance from where they were two seasons ago. Coach Howard is in his first season in the Big Chair, so perhaps we’re seeing him adjust to the new role. It’s tough to win in the conference. There’s no such thing as a night off. But at 2-6, the men’s team is staring down the barrel of a very difficult road.

I guess we’ll see where we are in a week or two. I’d love to see them both move toward the middle of the pack. With the exception of the top two teams in both leagues, it’s a wide-open tournament. I think we’ll see some upsets along the way. Let’s hope IUPUI is making some noise in Sioux Falls this year.

one win. one loss. one lost media timeout & one lost voice.

The mic does all the work. I simply tell it what to say.

Last night was a big night in The Jungle. Our first (of two) doubleheaders. Our last time ever hosting Oral Roberts at home. And a whole mess of in-game activities to manage (Hall of Fame recognition, Homecoming Court at halftime. We had a GREAT crowd in the house, too. It was a full day for a PA announcer. And oh yeah, a couple of important basketball games.

One Win. One Loss.
The women’s team did their job. They pounded Oral Roberts in the opening game, 72-48,. It was one of the best games they’ve played all season. The men’s team…ugh. They have hit some sort of rut that I can’t quite figure out. They lost to ORU 81-71.

Sadly, both programs are staring up at most of the conference in the standings. The women’s team are in ninth place (out of 10) and the men’s team is in eighth place (out of 10). That’s significant because the conference tournament seeds only the top eight teams. Yikes.

Basketball notwithstanding, I learned last night that doubleheaders are HELL on my voice. I was in good form throughout the women’s game. But about five minutes into the men’s game, I noticed I was losing some “heft” in my voice. Maybe it’s age, but I need to pace myself a little better when it comes to doing a doubleheader.

Taking Care of the Pipe.
I’ve also learned other valuable game-day announcing lessons:
* No soda/carbonated beverages
* Warm up (which usually means practicing my announcer voice for about an hour
* Drink lots of water before and during the game

And now I can add Pace Yourself to the list.

Nevertheless, it was great fun to work a game with a full house last night. We need more of that to finish out the season and beyond. We need the students to get up like this for every game.

…and now for something completely different.
Experienced something during the men’s game that’s never happened in a game I’ve worked: we lost a media timeout.

In case you didn’t know, for college basketball games, media timeouts are taken at the first dead ball under 16:00, 12:00, 8:00 and 4:00 on the clock in both halves. During the first half of the men’s game we never had a dead ball under the four-minute mark. Normally, it wouldn’t be an issue. But we had a Hall of Fame presentation planned for the under-4 TO. We simply pushed it to the second half. No big deal, but kinda funny.

thursday night hoops: jags come home to battle the thunderbirds.

After a short layoff, it’s time to get back to the Jungle for a little college hoops action tonight. The IUPUI Jaguars are hosting the Southern Utah University Thunderbirds tonight in what is the final time the Jags will face them in conference action. The T-birds are leaving The Summit League after this season to join the Big Sky Conference and Southland Conference. Bye-bye, T-birds. I hardly knew ye.

A Demoralizing Loss.
Actually, last year, the T-birds handed IUPUI what I consider to be one of the most embarrassing losses I’ve ever witnessed at The Jungle. IUPUI jumped out to a 22-6 lead to open the game. “We are KILLING them!” I said, at the time. Yeah, that was until the second-half collapse. Southern Utah outscored IUPUI 52-28 to win the game, 80-68. Think about that. The Jags were outscored by 28 points when they were up by 16 points.

In the seven or eight seasons I’d been working their games, I’d never seen such a colossal breakdown on our home floor. It was demoralizing. Southern Utah has always been a decent-but-not-great team in our conference. But on this night, they never quit…and shot the lights out.

Tonight’s game is important for more pertinent reasons than payback. Both teams are 2-4 in the conference. IUPUI needs to get on a bit of a run to sneak back into contention and it has to start tonight.

Scouting the T-Birds.
Southern Utah brings in a balanced offense, with four players averaging double-digit scoring (Stevenett, Taylor, Massey, Heuir). But as a team, they’re only averaging a shade over 69 points per game. IUPUI averages around 74 ppg, so the T-birds need to contain the Jags’ top scorer, Alex Young (20.1 ppg) if they are to stand a chance.

Bold Prediction.
Southern Utah will keep it close in the first half, but Alex Young will explode in the second half for IUPUI and the Jags pull away with an important conference win.

primary colors.

I didn’t pay terribly close attention to the New Hampshire primary results last night. I expected Mitt Romney to win. In a show of my own ignorance, I predicted a Jon Huntsman surge would vault him into second place. I was wrong. The Paulettes were out in full force, keeping Ron Paul in second.

This is all purely academic for me. I have absolutely no rooting interest in the Republican nomination process. I’m not voting for any of these guys. I’ve believed all along Mitt Romney is going to win the nomination and don’t see that changing anytime soon.

What I have noticed, in watching the 2012 GOP nomination, is the similarity to the 2004 Democratic nomination. There were no superstars, no rainmakers, no true, unifying candidates who inspired the base. The Democrats ran on an Anyone But Bush platform and ultimately lost in a close election. The Republicans have been running on a similar narrative against Obama, and it could come back and bite them in the end.

If the history of presidential runs has taught us anything, it is you have to run for something to win. That’s how Reagan won. That’s how Clinton won. That’s how Obama won. Yes, I left GWB off that list because I still have no clue how he won, but that’s another story.

For all of Obama’s optimism in 2008, he’s a highly vulnerable candidate in 2012. He could lose. In a race against Mitt Romney, it’s going to come down to which candidate outflanks the other. I see it going right down to the bitter end. Romney may expand the map a bit for Republicans, but I don’t think his Michigan ties will win him in many votes in the Rust Belt. New England states may be vulnerable for Obama, but I’d be stunned if Michigan, Ohio or Wisconsin goes red. Indiana? You can already put it in the Romney column. Same goes for the South.

The states to watch in the general election will be the usual suspects: Pennsylvania, Ohio, Florida, Michigan, North Carolina. I’d also add New Jersey to that list. I don’t have any hard data to support it, but I believe the Chris Christie influence puts New Jersey in play.

But let’s get through the primaries first. Next up, South Carolina. My prediction: Romney wins, making the rest of the race a parade lap.

…and everything after.

It’s been a busy few weeks around here. Between the holidays, work and the ongoing basketball season, I’ve kept myself busy.

Basketball season’s been a bit up and down for me. We had a couple good games at ConsecoBankers Life Fieldhouse and my voice was in tip-top shape for those games. But our home games at The Jungle have been frustrating. The teams have been hot and cold; so are our fans. I’ll never understand why it feels like we’re always rebuilding from Square One with our student section from one year to the next. If I can count the number of students in our student section on one hand, you have failed, students. Failed.

Next year, we’ve got to do better.

I’ll be taking a weekend away from Indy in a couple weeks. Destination: where do you think?

In a bit of an experiment, I’ll be heading to Las Vegas on Friday night, after work, and coming home Sunday afternoon. All told, I’ll spend 33 hours in the desert. I know what you’re thinking: “that’s not much of a vacation.” It’s not, you’re right. But I’m flying solo and have intentions of doing more than merely gamble (although I will be doing a bit of that).

I’m going to rent a car for the afternoon and drive around my old neighborhood. Even though I only lived there for five short months, I really miss it and I find I’m forgetting some of the mundane nonsense I enjoyed—my Starbucks in Summerlin, the Albertson’s where I shopped, the unique street names (Hualapai, Flamingo, Fort Apache). I want to go back for an afternoon and be local again. I miss that aspect of Las Vegas.

Don’t get me wrong. The Strip is still a great place for a party and I’ll always enjoy that. But I miss just being there.

So that’s my plan for Saturday afternoon. Friday and Saturday night, however, I’ll be scaring up a little trouble on the Strip…and maybe a hot roll or two at the dice table? Here’s to hoping.

the christmas bat.

Twas the night after Christmas and all through the house,
I was screaming like a little girl because of die fledermaus.

Anyone who knows me is aware I do not react very well to bats in the house. At. All. It’s an irrational fear, I know, but it is what it is. I just don’t like them and get freaked out by them. For everyone else, this is great entertainment, including the bat. So, along with the obligatory stockings and gifts and Chinese take-out, a goddamn bat decided it would be fun to fly around and scare the shit out of Kevin.

My brother and mother handled it well. The dogs didn’t much care one way or the other. But me? I was on the kitchen floor in the fetal position, holding my brother’s dog, trying to go to my happy place (I didn’t find it).

After the bat made one pass over our heads, he was nowhere to be found. A search party ensued, which included my mother’s neighbors, who are adept bat hunters. I chose to not look very hard, for fear that I might actually find the bat.

After a couple hours, the search party was called off. This bat was in hiding. So we slept the night with a bat somewhere in the house.

Long story short, the bat came out the following night while I was on the phone with DirecTV, setting up my mother’s HD receiver. I never saw the bat because I bolted for the door when I heard the commotion. Wielding a 30-year old tennis racket (the official weapon of choice when hunting bats), Shawn swatted him out of the air. After a brief struggle, the bat was returned to its natural habitat…post mortem. Shawn, you should know, is not a hostage taker.

I look forward to Christmas with my family, but here’s to hoping our Christmas tradition no longer includes hunting for a bat in the house. Then again, every time I scream like a little girl, an angel gets its wings.

the dakotas come to town.

We just wrapped up four straight days of IUPUI Jaguars basketball in the Jungle. Sadly, we only went 1-3 against the Dakotas. The women’s team beat North Dakota State on Wednesday night. The next three nights were a trilogy of losses that were heartbreaking, frustrating and disappointing. The men’s team dropped an overtime nail biter to South Dakota State on Thursday night; charging back from as much as an 18-point deficit to force OT, only to lose in the extra period.

Friday night’s women’s game against South Dakota State wasn’t quite as dramatic. It was more like we were lulled into losing by 10 points. The men’s Saturday night game vs. North Dakota State was even more maddening than the previous three games. They can’t seem to get their offense rolling until it’s too late. The game was tied 6-6 early in the first half, then NDSU went on something like an 8-0 run and it was all over from there. The 84-79 final score belies the reality that the Jags were never really that close after early in the first half.

I’m not arguing that they aren’t trying. They are. The team isn’t finding its offensive rhythm until late in the game. That needs to change if they stand a chance in the post season.

By the Saturday night, I was fried. My voice just didn’t seem to have anything left. The Jungle felt more like a mausoleum than a college basketball game. With the exception of the band, cheerleaders and the few dedicated students who never miss a game, IUPUI’s fans are remarkably courteous to the opposing teams. I miss the games we had a few years ago, when the place was rocking. I miss the games when it was so loud you couldn’t hear me on the PA. We need more games like that. We need more students at the games.

Instead, I’m getting heckled by five-year olds from North Dakota correcting me on the pronunciation of “Bison.” I get interrupted during the game by a kid from the other team so he can tell me, essentially, “it’s not pronounced ‘bison’, it’s pronounced ‘bison’.” Huh? For one thing, I rarely referred to them as “Bison,” in favor of simply saying “North Dakota State,” whenever announcing a foul, sub, etc. So why is this kid bugging me during a game? Your guess is as good as mine. I wasn’t mean to the kid; just smiled and nodded and then went about my business. I still don’t know what he was trying to say to me.

I’m hardly perfect. I screwed up an IUPUI scoring play by announcing the wrong player. I knew I jacked it up the moment I said the name. It was too late to correct it, so you just move on. Did I hear about it? Sure I did. It happens. I own my mistakes.

For the four-day stretch of games, I’d say the middle two games were my best outings. But having said that, I need to start revving this crowd up again. They seem to be too comfortable sitting on their hands or something. It’s unnerving. We don’t want our home court to be known as having the politest fans in the conference. Especially when Oral freakin’ Roberts comes to town.

I just hope our teams figure out how to play better by then, otherwise this will be a long season.