Chad Comello

Year: 2010

  • Best Films of 2010

    Toy Story 3

    How great was the epic Western opening sequence? (It was actually a recreation of the original film’s opener.) I couldn’t stop smiling throughout this movie. It does a remarkable job of marrying old characters with new challenges. But the reason this is the best of the year is its ending. Andy decides to give away his toys (and, in essence, his adolescence) as he enters adulthood, leading to the most emotional and bittersweet goodbyes I can remember in film. So long, Woody, Buzz and Co. Here’s hoping the Academy wises up and awards Best Picture to the best film of 2010.

    Black Swan

    I sat in the theater, watching the credits roll, wondering what in the name of Natalie Portman just happened. What was the most stressful movie-going experience for me was also the most fascinating. Credit goes to director Darren Aronofsky, for creating the film’s unique vision and suffocating atmosphere, and to Portman, who finally shows how far she can go to achieve greatness as the conflicted ballerina. Who says ballet isn’t interesting?

    The Social Network

    The director David Fincher jokingly calls his film “the Citizen Kane of John Hughes movies.” On technical merits, it’s no Citizen Kane. But The Social Network understands its generation much better than any of Hughes’ movies did. You can’t get hung up on the facts because when viewed as an allegory of our time—the Age of Facebook—it’s brilliant and oddly epic. Here’s to seeing more of Jesse Eisenberg (and less of Justin Timberlake).

    The Fighter

    Mark Wahlberg beefs up, Amy Adams dresses down, and Christian Bale whacks out. And all three make this taut, unvarnished true story worth watching. Like many good sports films, The Fighter isn’t so much about the sport as it is about the competitor. Though Bale sticks out as the crack-addict brother, it’s Wahlberg who shines as the boxer with something to prove.

    True Grit

    The Coen Brothers’ first foray into the Western is in many ways the Brothers’ least typical. The trailer doesn’t let on how funny the film is. A lot of the humor derives from the characters’ antiquated diction and sharp tongue of 14-year-old Hailee Steinfeld. But watch out for what is arguably the only time the Brothers Coen let sentiment sneak into their story’s end.

    Inception

    More amazing, I think, than Christopher Nolan’s mind-blow of a movie’s special effects and concept was how such a big summer feature was kept under wraps for so long. I really didn’t know what to expect until I saw it in theaters, and when I did I was hugely impressed by the mind-web Nolan spun. Not perfect by any means, Inception gives me hope for more smart, well-made summer films. (A fool’s hope?)

    The Kids Are All Right

    Gets the award for most pleasant surprise. Once you move beyond the novelty of the lesbian-mothers dynamic, The Kids Are All Right reveals itself as a compelling and endearingly odd family drama. Plus, you can’t go wrong with Annette Bening and Julianne Moore.

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  • Chacho En Bogota: El Fin

    I’m sitting in the El Dorado airport in Bogota, waiting to board my flight. I’ve been here for 100 days, and I must say it will be bittersweet leaving Colombia. I met some great people here and got to live in another country and culture for a prolonged period, which has always been a personal goal.

    I will miss the food. I bought freshly made bread at a nearby bakery what seemed like every day. The croissants were especially tasty. It’s something about the altitude that makes baked goods especially succulent. I’ll also miss empanadas, ajiaco (a soup), and lots of other foods.

    I will miss the family I stayed with, the Encisos. Jorge works as the pastor at Iglesia Comunidad Viva, which is a great community of believers I came to really enjoy and respect. It was great living and working with them every day. The two girls, Maia and Matilde, were also a ball when they weren’t screaming their guts out. I’ll definitely miss the hugs they gave me randomly throughout the day. If you can, please support Jorge & Ginny in their ministry. There is information about how to do so on their blog.

    I actually won’t miss the climate. Crazy, right? But as a native midwesterner, I need me some cold and snow once in a while. If 60s and 70s every day with a little rain is your thing, than Bogota is the place to be.

    And so ends another chapter in my life. I don’t know what my future holds yet, but I’m glad I got to live for a little while with the good people in Colombia. Gracias a todos y que estén muy bien.

    –Chacho

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  • Chacho En Bogota: The Napkins Are Free, Right?

    So in the time of my last posting, two milestones were passed: the one-month-left-in-Colombia date, and the 55th anniversary of lightning striking the Hill Valley Courthouse clock tower on November 12, 1955 at 10:04pm. I’m here, I’m a nerd – get used to it.

    In other news, on Friday Jorge brought out the ping-ping table into the street in front of the house so we could play with a few of the neighborhood hooligans who have caused Jorge and the family some consternation in the past. It turns out these kids were all right and just needed something constructive to do rather than drink beer and be disruptive. We played ping pong for at least four hours, during which I won (I kid you not) about 25 straight games. Granted, the kids weren’t the best ping pongers, but still. Afterward we watched Into the Wild and they stayed until about 11. It was great progress for starting a relationship with these kids.

    Tonight, I just got back from an outing with Jorge and some of his friends. Two of them, a married couple, are starting a restaurant and they toured us around the place which is still under construction. It sits on top of a valley, so the view is incredible. Very spacious and chic. I hope I can eat there someday.

    After the tour, we went to dinner at Andres Carne De Res, which is apparently a very famous – if not the famous – restaurant in Colombia. This means it was very expensive, but the food was incredible. Seriously, it was probably the best steak I’ve ever had. The restauranteur-friends were telling me that the owner of the place is filthily rich and a huge jerk. (He was actually eating a few tables away from us.) There are currently three of his restaurants in the world – two in Colombia and one in New York – and the Bogota establishment alone made him $20 million in personal wealth last year. In spite of this, the man takes 3% of the 10 percent tip the waitstaff gets from each bill.

    To make up for this douche-move, I stole a cloth napkin. Apparently they check bags at the door for theft, so I just stuffed it down my pants. With my beer glass I got from the Bogota Beer Company, that makes two souvenirs I didn’t have to pay for. Hat trick, anyone?

    –Chacho

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  • I Approve of Conan O’Brien

    1. He’ll be the first and only talk show host to rock a full beard on air. And a red one no less.
    2. His classy Tonight Show farewell speech.
    3. His inherent nerdiness. He jokes a lot about the archetypal nerds out there, but deep down he’s a nerd himself as a student of history, comedy, and pop culture.
    4. The “Small Talk Moment” sketches from Late Night. By far the best.
    5. His extreme self-deprecation. As a fellow tall, lanky, near-translucently-skinned redhead, I can relate.
    6. He’s back on TV! Finally. 11/10c on TBS. Be there.
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  • Chacho En Bogota: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Extend My Visa

    I was technically an illegal alien for a few hours yesterday. I forgot to renew my tourist visa until a day after it expired, so I was nervous going downtown to the DAS office (Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad). After a two-hour wait, I got fingerprinted and a woman looked over my papers, stamped my passport, and I was good to go.

    No fine, no hassle. Praise the Lord.

    – Chacho

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  • Chacho En Bogota: SpongeBob

    Matilde, almost 4, came to my room to show me her new SpongeBob Squarepants band-aid and this conversation followed:

    MATILDE: That’s Patrick and this is SpongeBob and they live underwater.
    CHAD: Yeah, they do.
    MATILDE: Do you think they have special beds?
    CHAD: Yeah, they probably have special underwater beds because they live in the ocean.
    MATILDE: Yeah. But Patrick is a star and Spongebob is cheese so he’s not supposed to be in the water.
    CHAD: I thought Spongebob was a sponge. Do you know what a sponge is?
    MATILDE: No…
    CHAD: A sponge is something you use to clean dishes and it gets wet, so that’s why Spongebob is a sponge because he’s underwater.
    MATILDE: But Spongebob is cheese.
    CHAD: OK.

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  • Do: Write a Novel. Do Not: Shave.

    Who has two thumbs and is participating in No-Shave November and National Novel Writing Month? This guy.

    Participation in the former will be quite easy; I’ve been spotted with all kinds of facial hair in the last few years of my life. I also figured I should start preparing now for my reentry into the Midwestern December cold by growing a beard. Luckily, facial hair isn’t nearly as rare in Colombia as it was in Guatemala.

    I’m also going to give National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) a try for the first time. Fifty-thousand words in 30 days. The nice thing is that it’s about quantity over quality: just get words on the page, kill the self-editor, and just write. I’ve got an outline ready, but anything can happen. We’ll see how it goes.

    – Chacho

    Current track: “Rap Promoter” by A Tribe Called Quest.

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  • Chacho En Bogota: Fortuitous Times

    I took a cab by myself (in a foreign country) for the first time yesterday. I was going to an English tutoring session for two 13 year-olds and was going to bike there, but then it started pouring so a cab suddenly looked a lot better. I ended up walking back after the session, which was fortunate because I got to see a double rainbow above Bogota. Good times.

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  • Chacho En Bogota: The Cows Are Off To Pasture

    SuperVacas has ended. Ninety kids showed up on Friday. Monday there were about 50. It’s incredible how good news travels around the neighborhood. A lot of the kids were first-timers. It was an exhausting week because there were only 10 adult workers for the 90 kids that showed up, but everything got done and the kids had fun.

    Also fun: Jorge’s birthday on Thursday. We had a block party – ping pong table, music, five different cakes, and lots of people hanging around. I didn’t mingle for too long because I had a pretty bad headache, but it was cool to see how block parties like that can happen, because they don’t happen often in the States – at least not as easily.

    Should be going to El Centro tonight and Monday for some sightseeing and gift-buying. Report on that to come. Until then, estén bien.

    — Chacho

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  • Chacho En Bogota: Blessed Indeed

    Some 70 kids came to SuperVacas today, which means the good word is spreading ’round the barrio. The kids played ping-pong and soccer today – I pinged a little pong before they did and remembered how much I loved playing. My backhand, though, is much stronger than my forehand.

    The Encisos invited a boy from SuperVacas to have lunch with us today. It was a pretty modest lunch by usual standards: noodles with chicken and soup. But the boy said it’s as much food he’s had in a long time. It was humbling and a little heartbreaking. It made me realize just how blessed I am to have; three squares a day, a roof over my head and a pillow under it, the ability to come and live in Colombia for three months, family and friends who love me, money (however little of it) at my disposal, and, among many other things, an iPod and personal computer.

    I’m blessed indeed.

    – Chacho

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  • Chacho En Bogota: Cows That Are Super

    Today was Day 1 of, as Jorge would say, ¡¡¡SUPERVACAS!!!! It’s basically an AWANA-type day camp hosted by the church from 9am-12 every day this week. About 60 kids showed up today in total, so it was a lot of controlled chaos. It definitely brought me back to my days as a counselor at Lake Waubesa Bible Camp, but in the best way possible.

    After a few worship songs and then a short teaching time (the theme for this week is “Jars of Clay”, or parrijas de barro), the kids got to actually work with some clay, resulting in many creative constructions and a lot of amorphous clay globs.

    After a snack, game time. Out in the adjacent patio, the kids were divided into four teams and played racing games. The Red Team, captained by Jorge, eventually prevailed. I look forward to more craziness this week.

    – Chacho

    P.S. Tonight, Jorge brought back Cinnabons for everyone, in his words, “for a taste of home.” I replied that anything that clogged by arteries tasted like home to me. I don’t have to go over how it feels to eat a Cinnabon, but I will say this: God bless sugar.

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  • Chacho En Bogota: Flea Market

    I played drums this morning for church – the first time I’ve done so while I’ve been here. It’s been a while since I’ve played and it felt pretty good.

    After church, a couple of people from the singles group, plus the Encisos and the adopting family, visited a flea market not far from our neighborhood for lunch and craft browsing. Lots of local artisans with booths. I’m glad I’m not into jewelry because there was way too much of it to buy. I did, though, get a gift or two and a wallet for myself.

    The wallet was made by a dredlocked, Madison-type hippie not much older than me. His stated price was 20,000 pesos (about $11), but I’m lucky I had my Colombian friends with me because they balked and the vendor bumped it down to 15,000 pesos. He also threw in a friendship bracelet he quickly made on the spot and tied it on my hand, after I pledged to, in essence, keep love, peace, joy, happiness, etc., in my heart always.

    Deal.

    — Chacho

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  • Chacho En Bogota: Adorable Babies

    It’s quite humbling to get schooled in a pick-up soccer game by a kid more than half your age. That happened to me yesterday when I brought a soccer ball out to the kids who live in the orphanage around the corner from the Encisos. I was doing pretty well, but this one kid – I forget his name – about 10 years old just comes in and makes me pay for my Gringoness. I still scored a few, but he put things into perspective.

    Some friends of the Encisos arrived in country a few days ago to pick up the little 9-month-old girl they adopted. They were over at the house today for lunch so we got to see her. All kinds of adorable. She did the stare-for-awhile-until-I-decide-what-to-think thing that most babies do when they first see me, but I think I won her over. The process for the adoption started three years ago and won’t end for at least a couple more weeks until they get the final nod from the courts.

    Rest of today: practice for worship tomorrow (first time I’m playing drums) and for SuperVacas, which is happening next week. More info to come. Until then, estén bien.

    – Chacho

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  • Chacho En Bogota: Arm Wrestling

    Last night, I’m doing laundry, getting ready for bed, when Jorge tells me to get my “party clothes” on because we’re going to a surprise birthday party.

    OK.

    We get there, gather with the other party attendees, climb silently up the stairs to his apartment and sing him Happy Birthday, en español, claro. We eat cake and drink soda and proceed, somehow, to have arm-wrestling contests. I duel with Francisco and emerge victorious and lead my own chant of “USA! USA!” No one else joins in, strangely.

    We sing a few songs, have a prayer, and return home having participated in the most spontaneous party I’ve been a part of in a long time.

    ¡Viva Bogotá!

    —Chacho

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  • Chacho En Bogota

    Hola amigos cerca y lejos.

    I’ve officially been here for a month now, which means I’m almost a third through my time here. It’s a strange thought because it means eventually I’ll have to start thinking about what I’m doing to do when I get back to the States. I, like many people, will need a job. If you have any ideas, let me know.

    Friday we hosted the teens and single 20s and 30s again. Because the groups meet back to back, there’s always some overlap time for everyone to play games and sing together. A favorite game to play is called Olla (pot). Everyone stands in a circle with one person sitting in the middle. Someone serves a volleyball to another and the third people to get it has to hit the person in the middle with the ball. If they miss, or if the person in the middle catches it, the hitter is in the middle. And so it goes until someone wins. It can get violent at times, but it’s a great stress-reliever and community builder.

    After a few rounds of Olla, we went inside and sang some songs. Most of the songs we played had Spanish and English versions, so we switched languages back and forth during the songs. One was “Cambiaré Mi Tristeza” (“Trading My Sorrows”). I’ve been playing the Spanish version for so long that I actually forgot how to sing it in English. Ditto with “Shout to the Lord” (“Mi Cristo Mi Rey”). I guess that’s a good sign…

    Saturday, after the drum lessons, the church hosted a wedding. I played guitar for a few songs in the ceremony, which I didn’t know I was doing until the night before. It was great, though. Really low-key. Probably 50 people, tops. Needless to say, a strong contrast with American weddings. Afterward, I got to relax at home and catch up on Modern Family and Mad Men – two shows I would highly recommend.

    Which brings us to today. After church, the 20s and 30s group got together and we went to a nearby park and played soccer, dodgeball, and a version of basketball for a couple hours. The rain mostly held off, so it was a great time. I’m always happy to play soccer – I scored two or three goals I think. Contrary to popular belief, some Gringos can play soccer. Then we came back to the Encisos’ and had dinner, after which I saw the Packers (barely) beat the Lions. Overall, a great day.

    That’s it for now. Thanks for all of your prayers. ¡Hasta luego!

    –Chacho

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  • Sarah Palin Is Not A Serious Person

    If Sarah Palin plans to run for president in 2012 (which I’m not yet sure if she’ll do), many people will vote for her. But count me as one of those Americans who will not check the box for Sarah Palin if that day comes.

    There are a few reasons why I won’t vote for Palin for president. The biggest one, though, believe it or not, does not involve her politics. As a political moderate I agree with Palin on some issues and disagree strongly on others, which is also the case with the President.

    The biggest reason, then, why I will not vote for Sarah Palin is that Sarah Palin is not a serious person.

    In times like these as well as in times of prosperity, the President of the United States must be a serious person. This doesn’t mean they can’t be fun or funny; it means they have to understand the seriousness of the job and have the natural capacity to perform that job well.

    Barack Obama is a serious person. I knew that when I voted for him. His politics aside, when he ran for president he understood the seriousness of the job. Sarah Palin, I think, does not.

    If she were a serious person, she would not have quit the governorship of Alaska halfway through her term to become a TV star and write a book.

    If she were a serious person, she would not use Facebook notes (which are probably written by a publicist anyway) to spread misinformation about health care reform and other serious issues I think deep down she knows to be false.

    If she were a serious person, she would not tote her Down syndrome baby under her arm at every stop on her book tour to show off her “pro-life credentials” to her fans.

    If she were a serious person, she would prepare for being president not by throwing firebombs on FOX News but by supporting bipartisan compromise and studying up on foreign and domestic affairs.

    If she were a serious person, she would not be instigating so much anti-government hatred from the Tea Partiers when she has no intention of doing anything to solve the problems they decry except for make another stump speech rife with tired talking points.

    Of course, all of this presidential-run talk is still speculative. And the fact that so many people care so much about Palin’s political future that they’re talking about it so early and frequently simply plays into Palin’s hand. But if she does run, she will have the Tea Party movement and its acolytes behind her. If she were a serious person, she would know she needs more than pissed off conservatives to win a presidential election.

    But she is not a serious person. And it doesn’t look like she intends to become one any time soon. If that’s the case, and she does in fact run for the Republican nomination in 2012 and wins it, consider this my formal un-endorsement.

    Seriously.

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  • On The River

    The sky is clear and the air is clear and the air smells clean. So clean. The wilderness of northern Wisconsin is still very wild. Evergreens clog the air. It’s perfect, this time of summer. Glory defined, with a high of 75. And it’s a perfect time to ride the Brule River, which snakes through the thick woods all the way to Lake Superior.

    I’m in a yellow kayak, the kayak eroded by age and water, sliding smoothly down the river. It was so clear I could see the bottom. If only there were mountains peeking over those tall evergreens. My paddle takes another dip, leaving a tiny tornado in its wake. I round another wide bend, avoiding a felled tree protruding from the shrub-choked shore. The steady current gently pushes me along, like a raindrop on a window. I lean back in my kayak and close my eyes and smell the air ambling by. Surely there is nothing better than this.

    I open my eyes and the treetops are looking back at me. A lone cloud follows me down the river. I sit up and paddle some more. Another bend approaches. On my right in an opening to the woods, a doe’s head shoots up. Her ears twitch. I pass slowly, admiring her grace, as two fawns emerge from the woods and flank their mom. The family’s out for a walk.

    The bend nears. I maneuver around a portly boulder. From farther away it seemed slight, but now I see how deep it extends. My very own summer iceberg. The rocks closer to the surface scrape the bottom of my kayak. Around the bend, a cliff of rocks and weeds looms over a sandy shore. Two ducks meander, nibbling just below the surface for snacks. Past the sand, the river straightened back out into a crystalline path.

    I think of Colorado. On vacation with my family two years before, we had rafted down the Colorado River, where the whitewaters made you work hard to stay afloat. We had drifted through a serene sandstone canyon and fought through feral rapids. We had driven ATVs deep into the Great Divide, a vast stretch of mountains and plains that unites a continent. And I had ridden bicycles with my dad down a mountain, zipping back and forth across its face, trying not to careen off the path. I saw the views at the end of each of those adventures. Views I told myself I would see again someday.

    A small rapid beckons me ahead. Only a few turns. I paddle hard. Approaching the brink, I start paddling one way but the rapid pulls me the other. My kayak slams one rock and bounces over another. I stab my paddle into the cold water between two rocks and pull myself past the boulders. My kayak continues on, steady and smooth. The battle over, I rest my paddle across my lap, smile and lay back.

    I think about life on the river. Taking one of those week-long canoe trips where survival means a good paddle and the need for adventure. I could do something like that. I need to do something like that. It’s a test, really. A test of the limits of your courage. A lot of people take it. Kayaking rivers, biking down mountains, hiking hidden paths—conquering the unconquerable. When you venture miles into untamed land you feel untamed yourself. When you risk death to take on a raging river you feel alive. When you finally flee civilization and safety and risk losing something, you return to the best of yourself. Nature is funny that way.

    I round another bend and see the rest of my group gathering at the load-in dock. Some are wading in the shallows, waiting for the stragglers. A girl jumps off a wood ledge and floats downstream for a few seconds before pulling herself back up. For those few seconds she had floated on her back and saw the same treetops I had seen. She was a dreamer.

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  • iPad? I think not

    Originally published in the North Central Chronicle on April 16, 2010.

    With all the near-orgasmic praise Apple’s iPad has received lately, I feel like I should want to get one. But I don’t.

    Let’s be honest: it’s a cool toy. It does most of the things and iPod Touch or iPhone can do but on a bigger, more vibrant LCD screen. It also does some of the things a laptop does but in a more simplified and mobile way. But I don’t see the point of shelling out $500+ for a product fresh out of the factory just because Steve Jobs says it’s the future.

    The Cult of Apple is a little too much for me right now. Sarah Palin whined a lot about the news media fawning over Barack Obama during the presidential campaign, but that was nothing compared to the reception Jobs’ Apple products get every time they are released into the world.

    I understand brand loyalty, but some Apple fans get so wrapped up in their products it becomes hard to take their constant adulation seriously. While Apple’s products are often worthy of the praise they receive—it’s a sleek and dependable brand with great marketing—let’s not get carried away.

    Jobs may be right: the handheld touchscreen technology the iPad embodies will probably eventually become the standard for computing and communication. Like the iPhone and iPod before it, it will get better with every generation they release. And more people will probably buy it once Apple’s competitors like Google and Microsoft release their own version of the tablet computer.

    But the iPad as it is now is not there yet. As the first generation of its kind, it’s going to receive some major upgrades in the next few years. Remember the first generation iPod? At the time it was revolutionary, but now it’s laughably archaic. 

    The iPad, I suspect, will be similar. It’s cool now, but I’m going to let it cook a little longer before I buy what Steve Jobs is selling. Once tablet computers become a legitimate and irreplaceable technology—and offered from more companies than just Apple—then will it be worthwhile to invest in it.

    Until then, it’s still just a toy. A very expensive toy.

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