Tree, Part Two

Here's a little confession: I often write these entries in batches, mostly on Saturday morning and schedule them to be published for the rest of the week. Not that it should matter to any of you. It just helps me to get them out of the way so I can concentrate on the real work, the coupon ads, the banners, the hacky TV spots that puts food on my table.

This past Saturday morning, I only wrote two entries. Perhaps it was the abnormal heat or the fact that I had just started recovering from a freight-train of a cold.

Hours after I had written yesterday's post about the unwelcome tree in my backyard, my wife and I went out to dinner, came back and popped in our Netflix copy of Greenberg, which by the way could be the slowest, most annoying, most narcissistic movie ever committed to celluloid.

I like a good thoughtful character study movie as much as the next pseudo-intellectual, but this film is really unwatchable. Do yourself a favor and scratch it off your Netflix cue and replace it with The Pool, shot and written by my friend Chris Smith.

But back to the tree. At one point in the movie, a character, maybe even Ben Stiller, asks a homeowner what kind of tree he has in the backyard. The tree with the yellow flowers, he inquires.

This struck me as incredibly odd, as only a few hours earlier I found myself digging through old blueprints and landscaping plans trying to identify the exact same tree for yesterday's post. What an odd and meaningless coincidence.

The discussion about the tree with the yellow flowers was perhaps the only redeeming quality of this 149 minute snoozefest.

That, and the ample erect nipple shots of Greta Gerwig.