Winter and gender

Yesterday was a wonderfully sunny and warm (for January) day, and the world's longest skating path was packed to the gills with One Great City!-zens of all shapes and sizes. B thought it would be nice if there were a lane along the edge reserved for those who do not abandon skating just because it's -20; a kind of user's perk, not unlike what one might get with a season's pass at the local amusement park, with payment not in monetary form but in the act of plunging self wholeheartedly into winter regardless of temperature, which is much more egalitarian. Well, in the financial sense, at least. I mean, what if you're allergic to winter? There was a lady on the radio the other day who talked about this kind of heat rash she develops, but from the cold. Maybe she could apply for a subsidy - free long johns?

And since it was so mild yesterday, I shouldn't have been surprised to find that there were lots of other people on the town ready to check out the art-house movie we had planned to see that evening. It sold out without our help. Returning home, we swung by the not-art-house cinema and arrived just in time to catch There Will Be Blood. I am not sure what to make of this one (cue Film Critic!). It's a great movie, etc. but the main thing sticking out in my mind is this: if there was ever a film made where the only role for a man was as either a) incidental crowd member or b) husband with virtually no lines who appears in a scene for the sole reason of further revealing the characters of the women, it would not be nominated for awards. People would pick up on the fact that there were no men in it, talk about this only, then quickly shelve it as a 'chick flick' and nobody would know if it was any good or not, except maybe Mom.