Rich Monetti Writes: September 2016

Friday, September 30, 2016

Hell Or High Water With Jeff Bridges Sets No Limits In The Vastness Of Texas

Image Source - https://pixabay.com/en/dust-cloud-vintage-retro-1930-s-593091/

Contrary to popular folklore, Jesse and Frank James did not steal from the rich to give to the poor. On the other hand, they weren’t happy with the outcome of the Civil War and robbed Republican held banks to help unsettle the new order. Jeff Bridges’ latest film Hell or High Water has elements of both and superimposes today’s disenfranchised underbelly of America over a modern day James Gang that also takes matters into their own hands.

The David Mackenzie film opens with Chris Pine and Grant Foster showing up too early to rob their first bank in the heart of West Texas. “The only thing you two are guilty of so far is stupidity,” the teller instructs Toby and Tanner Howard, because the tardy bank manager holds the keys.

So you get a sense of silliness that possibly foreshadows a pleasing little crime romp. The prospect abruptly ends as Tanner (Ben Foster) tosses the helpless woman about and menacingly points a gun at her forehead.

Not looking like the hardened criminal, Chris Pine is taken aback, and formulaically, you wonder why the level headed guy has once again enlisted a loose canon. The obvious question then arises as to whether the less than murderous intent of the good bad guy will unravel as the story unfolds.

Fortunately Jeff Bridges shows up, and you get to put off the possible dread in Texas drawl that barks without biting. That is until it proves absolutely necessary for retiring Sheriff Marcus Hamilton.

This initially leaves him bewildered as the first bank robbed frets a digital camera on the fritz. “You can get a video camera at Walmart, can’t you,” his frustration exhibits that being a relic doesn’t mean his attention to detail or diligence is dated.

Bridges also does a number on his partner’s dual ethnicity throughout.

Alberto Parker not necessarily approving of all the “Indian” jokes leveled at him, he seeks possible refuge in being half Mexican. “When I’m done making fun of your Indian half, I’ll move onto the Mexican,” Bridges is immune to the protestations of his deputy (Gil Birmingham).

One of three Native American characters who actually deliver lines, their presence is refreshing - especially since it should be a given for modern day westerns. The added depth also provided an unforgettable historical segue for the native American to blanket the banking industry, and the tidy commerce that plays conquistador to the dispossessed in present day.

And the desolation is in full view compared to the angst Americans suffer elsewhere. Abandoned towns and poverty that seems as limitless as the vast spaces that sap the pride of generations even unborn.

In the backdrop, billboards promising miracles of reverse mortgages can’t be missed, and you (and Bridges) know early on that the measured crime spree is attempting to undo shenanigans leveled at Pine’s family by Texas Midlands Bank.

Zipping through the dust in a series of stolen clunkers, Pine leaves the warp core of his other vehicle behind and relinquishes galactic command without effort or worry of being typecast. Cause in tow, he is easy to root for, and the landscape certainly doesn’t jump through hoops to impede his path.

On the other hand, his costar’s range also doesn’t box him into past roles and casts doubt on the whole endeavor. This means the whiney characters portrayed in The Punisher and Six Feet Under easily fall in favor of tough guys roles such as 3:10 Yuma and Pandorum. Accordingly, Foster's presence doesn't diminish the just retribution his brother seeks.

Of course, the Sheriff still at the top of his game, the inevitable showdown awaits only whether we feel vindicated of a benign Robin Hood or the good guy who goes down in flames - setting bystanders a blaze with him.

But the banks win either way, and their depravity is what is really limitless.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Westchester County Counts on Rob Astorino to get the Math Right on Childcare Subsidies

On November 29^th, the Cortlandt Town Hall held the Westchester County Budget Hearings to a standing room only turnout. The largest contingent came from parents, teachers and children who have been affected by cuts to childcare subsidies over the last several years. With the recent national trend of aligning fiscal considerations to actual arithmetic, I thought I might tie some emotion to the issue to help the County Executive add the numbers.

Working part-time at Mt. Kisco Childcare certainly biases my feelings, but I didn’t need to suffer through differential equations in college to know it cost more to place parents on welfare when they must quit their jobs because childcare is being denied them.

As straightforward as it gets, how else am I to go to make a case – especially when enough of Westchester succumbs to less than logical thinking to justify their math. “The stereotypical view of the person getting subsidies is they are in rehab, getting free housing and collecting food stamps as they sit at home,” said Donna Morrison, Early Childhood Director of the Guidance Center, “but the typical parent on subsidy works full time, often goes to school and just wants a safe place to send their kids.”

Regardless, I don’t really consider the origins of anyone’s payment as I go about my day. Navigating my way around and through the whims of my crafty after schoolers is what occupies my attention.

In fact, I’m going use this platform to state that another result of the austerity is I have not had a raise in two years. As selfish as that sounds, especially in the wake of others far more in need, I must mention I do often question how I could possibly be paid for having so much fun.

I shouldn’t give the County Executive any ideas. Instead, I’ll introduce him to a five year old preschooler named Tyler. That, in part, because teachers have a tendency to gravitate towards kids who they see something of themselves in.

Like me, now and at that age, Tyler has a big bald (or actually crew cut styled) head with ears that affectionately jut out. Bound together by equally good looks, Tyler seems to be as attuned to the connection as me, and he does not contain his optimism when our paths cross between the two programs.

Pushing his hand out and up into a stationary position, he’ll get my attention with a “Hey, Hey…Hey, Hey, Hey.” Following suit, I now do the same when it’s me who trying to get a response.

But my favorite interaction happens at the end of each day. Usually engaged in our gross motor room with my kids in indoor soccer, basketball or make shift hockey, he’s just slipping into that space where kids switch from the teacher’s control to a parent’s. In that void, he takes the opportunity to rush from the classroom and inject himself in my game. “There’s my boy,” I caution the after schoolers to slow down.

Following suit, Tyler now returns a “hey my boy” to me, and again I have to remind myself that I actually get paid to do this.

Better yet, I'd like to invite the County Executive - and those who stand to benefit politically of policy that makes no fiscal sense - to come by. They might be swayed in deference to poor SAT math scores but there’s more to this the infectiousness of Tyler’s game.

For as long as I have noticed Tyler, his ride home has always been his grandfather. I’ve never asked about the specifics of his home life but you can’t help speculate.

Is his grandfather raising him alone? Is there a single mom awaiting Tyler at home? Is Dad in the picture? Are both Mom and Dad absent? And how does grandpa, who clearly isn’t confined to the lighter duties of simply being a grandfather, manage to keep up with such an energetic little guy?

On Thursday, those questions were answered. A young woman named Stephanie Houghtaling stepped to the podium and introduced herself as a single mom from my center. Having never seen her before, I was surprised that I didn’t know every parent at the daycare.

She went on to detail how MKCCC helped her get her son enrolled and navigate all the hoops that go with it. As a result and in accordance with county subsidies, she can continue to work, go to school and build a better life.

Just as importantly, not having to worry whether her child is safe and happy allows her to rise to the everyday challenges we all face. “He even asks why he can’t go to school on Saturdays,” she revealed as proof.

I would later learn from Dawn Meyerski, director of curriculum at the center, that when Tyler joined us, Mom was embroiled in a special education nightmare. “Tyler came to us having a lot to say, but nobody could understand any of it,” said Meyerski.

Having a hard time getting Speech Therapy for him, MKCCC got Tyler the right services and will not likely require any special education upon entering Kindergarten.

I wonder if the County Executive will add those savings to his calculations but somewhere in the course of Mom’s plea and my scribbling, she said, “My Dad comes to pick him up everyday and….”

Taken aback, this was obviously Tyler’s mom, and later introducing myself, I felt proud to be a part of her serenity. Nonetheless, there still may be more uncertainties ahead for her than other parents – or maybe not.

Whatever the case, Tyler is one happy little boy, but through the continued shortsightedness of the County Executive, that could change.

Mr. Astorino, you should be able to figure this out because Tyler isn’t the only one counting on you.

John Wayne and World War II

No one was more a hero in World War II than John Wayne. At least that’s what the aliens would think when they viewed the historical footage documented in old Hollywood reels such as the Sands Of Iwo Jima, Flying Tigers and The Longest Day. We know better. But if you’re a child of World War II, who reveled in his onscreen heroics and welled up with pride, maybe there’s still some wiggle room to take solace in. For everyone else, fire away.