September 13, 2007 at 10:18 PM EDT
Thursday, September 13, 2007, 10:41 PM
This coming Sunday, September 16, is my birthday! I'm turning 22. It will mark two complete ages of my life that I have spent with a spinal cord injury. I was injured about two months before my 20th birthday, so I have been in a wheelchair for all of ages 20 and 21. Strange.
Considering the severity of my injury, I have been extremely successful in my recovery over the past two years, two months, and one day. By recovery, I don't just mean physically. I also mean socially, mentally, emotionally, educationally (is that a word?), and spiritually. So much of my success has been because of the support I have received from others.
Since it's my birthday on Sunday I figured I would throw a reminder out there about one specific way of supporting me that has proven to be particularly helpful: donations. I have set up what is called a special needs trust. Money that is donated to the trust goes towards paying for all of the new equipment, modifications, medical supplies, and personal care attendants that are now a part of my day-to-day life as a result of my spinal cord injury. There is a lot that insurance doesn't and refuses to cover and the dollar amount for additional expenses even just week to week is staggering. Donations to the special needs trust have helped me and my family out so much in the past two years that the words thank you can't even begin to express our gratitude.
So... if you would like to make me a very happy birthday boy, please give a donation to the special needs trust. There is no amount too small, and there is definitely no amount too large. Here's how:
Write a check and make it out to the Zachary Weinstein Special Needs Trust and mail it to:
Zachary Weinstein Special Needs Trust
c/o Neil Krug, C.P.A.
Gray, Gray & Gray
34 Southwest Park
Westwood, MA 02090
--Zack
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September 10, 2007 at 11:36 PM EDT
Thursday, September 13, 2007, 10:41 PM
Crash
I was walking into geometry, the math class that everyone took during their sophomore year at Needham high school. Somebody passing in the hall was telling their friend that a plane had hit one of the Twin Towers. I turned to my friend Jeremy, we'd been friends since kindergarten and our families are close, and snickered. We both said something along the lines of "didn't they see the towers right in front of them? How did they miss that?" That was my immediate reaction to the news. I hadn't really thought it through yet. I hadn't thought about how high planes usually fly, about how low to the ground the height of a building is for a plane, about what type of damage it must've done. Those thoughts came to me while I was spacing off in class. What kind of plane? Like, a real plane? Jesus Christ. That's the craziest freak accident I've ever heard of.
My next class was a study that was held in the same room as geometry. When geometry was over I hung out in the hall during the few minutes passing time between classes. Everyone was talking. Two planes had hit the Twin Towers. A second one struck the other tower while I was learning about triangle postulates. Some kids were saying they heard it might be terrorists. I went back into the classroom. After the study teacher took attendance I asked her if we could turn on the television that was hooked up in the corner of the room. She refused. We had to do homework.
--But they were saying it might be a terrorist attack, we should watch this. Planes don't fly that low. We should watch this.
-She refused again.
--Well then can I go to a classroom where they are watching it? It's not like I'll be disturbing class.
-Nope.
--Okay, I'm going to go look for a TV. I've done all my homework anyways.
-I'll mark you absent.
--Okay.
I started walking to the media center because I figured the tech guys at school would definitely be watching it. On my way I was thinking about who the terrorists could be. Hours before his name was first mentioned on national television I thought about that terrorist who had bombed a boat off of the coast of Yemen, Osama bin Laden. I remember exactly where I was when I had that thought. I was halfway up a short flight of stairs that went from the math hallway towards where the cafeteria is. I thought about how many years this must have been in the works. If it was Osama bin Laden it must've taken him a while to get people over into the United States because he was from somewhere in the Middle East, Saudi Arabia maybe. I thought about what I'd been doing a year and a half previous. I was in eighth grade, still in middle school, still playing intramural basketball and halfway around the world these guys were planning this.
I got to the media center. One person was in there, a tech guy I had never met or seen before. He was sitting on a table with his feet on a chair and his chin in his hands watching a television. He heard me at the door, turned, and as casually as if we were on a first name basis said
-Hey man. Watch this. Unbelievable. Just unbelievable.
He moved to one side of the table, I sat on the other, put my feet on a chair, my chin in my hands, and watched. The first thing I saw on the TV was footage of the second plane striking the second tower. The tower that was hit first was blocking the view of the plane actually crashing. It was all they showed for five minutes. The newscasters were going on about where the president was, where the vice president was, what kind of planes had hit. I wanted to see the crash. I couldn't believe that with so many news stations none of them
had a helicopter in place that caught the plane hitting the other tower. I started talking with the tech guy.
--Can you believe this?
-I don't believe it man. This is crazy.
--Why don't they have any other shots of that other plane hitting?
-Those flights were American Airlines. They came from Boston I think they said. Jesus, think of all those people that got killed on impact.
--Think of the people above where the planes hit. Look at all the smoke. Shouldn't they have helicopters getting people out of there?
-Yeah, man. I saw this on the news, I was just flipping through channels. I thought it was a trailer for a movie or something, but then it just kept running.
--I can't believe they don't have any other shots of that plane hitting.
-Yeah, man. Hold on, what did they just say-- holy s*hit.
--Holy s*hit… Jesus.
-Jesus.
--Are you kidding me?
-This is unbelievable.
--Are you kidding me?
Breaking news: a plane crashed into the Pentagon. The Pentagon, hit by a plane. The Pentagon. I didn't think that was possible. I truly did not think that could happen. The Pentagon? I guess it's because of big budget action movies or my love of spy and espionage films or exposure to conspiracy theories, but I thought the government was stronger than that. They must have had high-powered guns or rocket launchers that could come up on top of the roof or out of the ground outside the Pentagon and shoot down a plane or a missile in case of attack. They didn't have a tracking system that could tell that a plane was going towards Washington so they could get fighter jets to shoot it down? It was the Pentagon. The CIA. I always just assumed that they had high-tech gadgets and weaponry that the public didn't know about. The Pentagon meant intelligence, complexity, secrecy, power. The Pentagon knew everything. The Pentagon was not something you could casually walk up to and punch in the face. The Pentagon was untouchable. This was for real. It was terrorists. We were under attack. That plane hitting the Pentagon changed my America. That plane changed something in me. The part of my brain that lit up when I thought about America's power, about America's indestructibility, was trembling. It was whispering something to me, something frightening: America's not as tough as you thought it was.
I thought again about how long this must've been planned for. In my head, running on the big budget movie and espionage film wavelength, I imagined that this was a spy story gone wrong. Somewhere out there was an agent who knew all about this for months in advance, had tried to stop it, but at the last second the grand stroke of luck that gets the hero out of his dire situation so he can save the world didn't come. Then the first tower fell.
I wasn't looking at the screen the moment it happened. I think I was looking out at the hallway to see if there was anyone else around I could say "can you believe this" to. The tech guy gasped. I turned my head in time to see the top of the tower exit the bottom of the screen. I gasped.
--Did another plane hit it?
-No man, it just fell. Jesus.
--My God. Is the other one going to collapse?
-I don't know.
--It was hit a lot higher up, it doesn't have as much weight on it.
-Let's hope so.
They were playing better footage of the plane hitting the tower now. They had so many shots of the tower falling. I couldn't stop watching. I couldn't wait until they showed the plane hitting again. I began to wonder if I was enjoying this a little bit. I put that thought in the back of my mind. I just sat there with the tech guy, chin in hands, until the bell rang for my next class. I decided I should probably go to it; I had a paper to hand in. I stepped into the hall as students were pouring out of the library and classrooms. It was all anyone was talking about. I was the first to tell a number of kids about the Pentagon and about the tower falling. School didn't really do much educating for the rest of the day. I moved from class to class, hearing about the new developments between classes and discussing them during the next class. "The second tower fell." "A plane went down in Pittsburgh." "They're evacuating the Sears Tower." "They're landing every single plane in the country."
In my history class, the last class of the day, a girl walked in with a note for someone. It was for my friend Jimmy. He mentioned at the beginning of the class that his mom was in New York City that day but that he knew she was nowhere near the World Trade Center. We were all holding our breath when that girl handed him the little yellow piece of paper. He seemed unconcerned. He read the note. "It's fine, it's my mom. She called the school to say she's fine." Every single person let out an audible sigh of relief.
When school let out I went straight home. My mom was there. She had heard about all of it on the radio when she was driving. We sat in the den and watched what happened for hours. Later in the afternoon I had to go back up to the high school to register for driver's ed. My mom drove me. We were the first ones there. Someone had told her to make sure to show up early so that the class didn't fill up by the time we arrived to sign me up. My mom really takes showing up early to heart. No one else was there, including the driver's ed people, for another 20 minutes. We were talking about the third World Trade Center building that collapsed. I was also telling her the story about the study teacher who wouldn't let us watch TV. The driver's ed people showed up, and I was the first name on the list. That moment has always been strange for me in my memory. I often forget that we didn't know immediately what that day was going to mean. It wasn't like we sometimes act like it was. The entire country didn't stop what they were doing instantaneously to sit and stare in shock and awe at the television for the entire day. Teachers taught classes, restaurants stayed open, businessmen had their meetings, driver's ed classes had sign-ups.
I decided that what CNN was now calling Attack on America was a good enough excuse not to do homework that night. I just watched. Larry King was on TV. He was speechless. I kept flipping channels to see if anyone was still showing the plane hitting or the towers fall. My mom looked at me at one point and said, "This is the day that will change your life, Zack. The world will never be the same." I hadn't thought about it like that yet. This could be the event that defines my generation. Like the Kennedy assassination or Pearl Harbor, maybe even bigger than Pearl Harbor.
I went upstairs. I went online. CNN announced that they had a lot of information on their website. I went to the video clips that they had up. There were incredible shots of the second plane hitting the tower. Better than what I saw on TV the entire day. There was one that was a close up of the plane, following it for five seconds or so until it crashed into the tower. It was a straight on view from across the river. The explosion was incredible. There was another one that was right under the tower when the plane struck. It was pointing right at the face that the plane crashed into. I kept watching the clips, over and over, for easily an hour. Then I went to bed.
Every so often I really hate myself for some of the things I think or feel. I hate that I love watching those clips. The planes hitting, I'm fascinated by it. The idea of what happened is still so big for me. I can't wrap my mind around it. Over the years I have seen footage of that day hundreds of times. I'm totally engrossed every time. I don't know if that's a bad part of myself. Do I not care about humanity? Is it sadistic? Is it okay to be fascinated by that image? Is it okay to be interested in it, to want to see it from every possible angle? It's not like I'm addicted. I don't need my Twin Towers plane crash fix. But I kept watching it over and over and over again.
There are many things that can and will be said about that day and how the world has changed and how we as a country have responded to it. I'm not gonna go into that too much right now. I'm sure it won't come as a surprise that I think that George W. Bush has done about the sh*ttiest job possible as leader of our country. Leave it at that.
I want to ask something of you, reader. It's a difficult request that I'm sure you've encountered before in your lifetime. Force yourself to always continue to live your life fully, honestly, and with love. Remember who is writing this piece. Remember what actually happened on that day. People went into work and they died because planes were flown into buildings. It's absurd. It's ridiculous. It happened. I couldn't tell you how many times people have heard about how I was injured and told me about the time they cracked their head on the bottom of the pool, or hit a tree with a car, or jumped off the roof and landed on their driveway on their back and nothing happened. They say that, I guess, in a way to show me that they relate to my experience. The cynic in me wants to say, "That's painful to hear and you have no idea what my life is." The compassion in me says, "Don't be so hard on them, they might understand. They recognize that sh*t happens, without warning, and sometimes nothing comes of it and sometimes the worst comes of it." Sometimes, the worst will come of it and it will blindside you. Live your life to the fullest extent you can with honesty and love. It's a cliché, but dammit if it isn't a good one.
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July 12, 2007 at 12:00 PM EDT
Thursday, July 12, 2007, 12:16 PM
Two years
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July 01, 2007 at 06:56 PM EDT
Monday, July 2, 2007, 07:53 AM
To follow up the Sopranos post I want to stick to the genre of pop-culture social commentary. I never would've guessed that I would actually want to take the time to write about this topic: Paris Hilton.
How did we get here? Right now, more of the country can discuss in detail the events leading up to and the consequences of one 26-year-old's arrest for driving with a suspended license than can discuss in detail the events surrounding the immigration bill that didn't get passed. Okay, it's been true for a while that the private lives of celebrities are more talked about and more publicized than politics, but the frenzy surrounding Paris Hilton has moved our culture from being narcissistic and misdirected into the realm of absurdity.
I've been trying to figure out why it went so far. Let's start with a brief overview of the history of advertising, because I think this has to do with it. At one of the points in my education when I had to do a reading on or do research about Sigmund Freud, I remember learning that one of his nephews had a great deal to do with the birth of modern advertising and propaganda. In short, he figured out that there were fairly simple ways to make people want something they didn't need. Advertising could increase the demand for a supply that generated no demand of its own accord. He figured out that it's possible to make people think they need something they don't need.
In comes television. TV makes its money off of advertisements. Advertisements, in a sense, tell you what you want. Television, or rather the people who run television, realize that they have the power to do the same thing. One example: news programs. They don't list all the possible topics that the public might be interested in, poll people to find out what they think is most important, and go back to those issues. The purpose of news programs isn't to provide relevant, exhaustive reports on what's important in our world; the purpose is to make people watch. How did they do that? They follow the advertising model. The product they are selling is the outside world and the means to which they are doing it are violence, blood, sensationalism, sex. Am I missing anything? Probably. I'm on a roll, bear with me.
Now, the content of news and television shows in general are not controlled by what the viewers want to see; they are controlled by what analysts think will make viewers watch. I'm about to make a leap here. Pretend that I've written about why our society focuses so much attention and energy on actors, models, musicians, in short, celebrities. We focus a lot on celebrities. News programs dictate what we want, and they have chosen "celebrity" as one of their major advertising pulls.
Alright, I'm done with the history thing. I know it's a vague, underdeveloped explanation of my thoughts. I ask your forgiveness. The point of all that was to give some back up to this next statement. The public only cares about anything Paris Hilton does because the media decides to care. It sounds so cliché, doesn't it? I feel like I should be some angry pseudo-intellectual wearing extremely low prescription glasses saying, "It's society, man. The media, like, controls everything."
But, it's true. The scary, and saddening, aspect of the Paris Hilton craze is that not only has the media shifted so many people's attention to her but they have more or less dictated peoples opinions about her as well. A lot of people hate her. They think she's some smug, entitled, slutty b*tch that got what was coming to her. To those who adamantly agree with that, I say this: how the hell do you know, and why in gods name do you care?
She's not that offensive. She's a beautiful, thin, blonde girl who was born into a wealthy family and is friends with lots of famous people. She's a model and a successful reality TV star. In short, she is the present-day embodiment of the American dream.
The jail thing. I believe her when she says that she was told by her lawyer and her publicist that she could be driving again. She definitely didn't need to be thrown in jail for that. If we wanted an example of the United States judicial system doing its job properly, we could have found a better one than Paris Hilton driving with a license she thought she had after being pulled over the first time and getting .08.
I watched her interview on Larry King live because I'm interested in this cultural phenomenon. I'm sure the majority of people watching were laughing at what an imbecile she is and how ridiculous she sounds saying what a traumatic experience 23 whole days in jail is. I was laughing, too at some of the things Paris was doing and saying. I wanted someone to tap her on the shoulder and tell her that a vicious circle is actually a vicious cycle. But I wasn't put off by her one bit. Also, a 23 day jail sentence is scary. It is scary, relative to how she lived. Have some empathy.
She wasn't the most eloquent speaker that Larry King has interviewed, but she didn't say anything offensive or ignorant. She's gotten a lot of criticism for even doing an interview after coming out of jail. Who wouldn't go on Larry King live? Who doesn't want to answer questions about their lives and have people know their story? It's what I'm doing right now.
She has gotten a lot of criticism for her partying lifestyle and a lot of people don't believe her when she said she doesn't do drugs or drink that much. She is 26 years old and has the opportunity to just have fun with her life. Of course she's going to do a lot of partying and socializing. I'm sure almost 100% of kids my age that I'm friends with have gotten the advice to stay in college and enjoy partying without any responsibilities before they have to enter the real world. If you think about it, she probably doesn't do drugs. I've never seen pictures are photos of her stumbling drunk in or out of a club or anything and a lot of the photos of her in trashy celeb magazines show her as the driver in a car with her friends.
She's getting made fun of for suddenly claiming that she found religion. Maybe I missed it somewhere else, but on Larry King she said nothing of the sort. He brought it up. He asked if she brought the Bible in, she said they weren't allowed to bring anything in. He asked if she's religious, she said she went to Catholic school as a kid and feels more spiritual now. Later on in the interview he asked what her favorite Bible passage is, she covered for the obvious fact that she doesn't know the Bible well enough by saying she doesn't have a favorite. He asked if she'd read the Bible every day, she said she read a lot in jail. He asked if she's going to go to Mass, she said yes. It doesn't seem to me like she'll be sporting any Jesus fish bling anytime soon.
She also gets criticized for not doing loads of charity work, for not making a public effort to better our society. I don't know how many people I heard on TV saying that hopefully this stint in jail will make her become a better, more charitable and generous person. She is almost being forced right now to choose a cause. Here's the thing. Philanthropy is not a requirement. She isn't bound by contract to help children or fight a disease. I remember some newscaster joked that she's no Angelina Jolie. Angelina Jolie made her first trip to Africa when she was 26. Paris Hilton is 26.
I did a really interesting thing last night. I went to CNN.com to see how many articles they had available about Paris Hilton. There are 84. That's not the interesting thing. One of the articles is a transcript of the Larry King Live interview. It's a completely different interview when you just read it. Trust me. Her answers don't come off nearly as unintelligent. She actually answers most of what he says very intelligently. If you drop the fact that it's her speaking and think of it as any twenty-something year-old girl talking about a 23 day jail sentence it's a totally different conversation. Read it, and you'll see what I mean. Here's the link: http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/TV/06/27/king.hilton.transcript/index.html
I think I got out all I want to say about that. I'm kind of tired now and it's close to dinner, so I'm going to cut this post short. I was going to do a little update about what's going on with me right now. Here's the short version: I've been down south for a little over two weeks with my dad and Anna-Maija. I'm in Atlanta for the summer doing the Beyond Therapy program at the Shepherd Center. It's the same thing I did last summer. If you look back through my posts a little bit less than a year ago there is a post that explains about what the beyond therapy program is. It's an intensive physical therapy program. The program is doing great things for me. Insurance doesn't pay. I'm going back up north on August 18.
There will be more about all of that in the next post. I mentioned it last time, but please e-mail everyone you know who reads my stuff and let them know that I'm putting stuff up on the Internet again. A lot of people told me that they aren't receiving the updates so if you could kind of spread the word that would be great. They just have to sign up for care pages, it's free, and they need to know that my site name is ZackWeinstein--notice that it's one word. I really appreciate it.
Oh yeah, I put up new pictures a few weeks ago. Look at how pretty they are.
--Zack
z_weinst@skidmore.edu
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June 13, 2007 at 04:46 PM EDT
Monday, July 2, 2007, 07:51 AM
School.
Number 126 on list of life goals: complete sophomore year of college. Check. I finished my first year back at Skidmore College a few weeks ago. I'm probably only going to write briefly about it, not because I don't feel an enormous sense of pride and not because this accomplishment doesn't have a tremendous amount of meaning for me, but because I really want to get to writing about the final Sopranos episode. Before moving on to that though, let me give you the Cliff's Notes of the end of last semester.
I was busy as hell juggling time to do homework for all of my classes, be at every rehearsal and performance that I could for my a cappella group, and not miss an episode of American Idol, 24, Entourage, and, of course, the Sopranos. Not to mention partying with my friends. I struggled, but I persevered.
I guess it's a social taboo to let everyone know what one's specific grades were in their classes, but I think I can pull the special circumstances card here. I did very well. The people who supported me and helped me be able to live my life and go back to school in the first place should know how well I did. I got all A's and A-'s both semesters, except for one B+ second semester. The B+, funnily enough, was in the writing class from which I posted some essays. I loved that class, and I worked really hard. I probably didn't get an A or an A- because it was the last final that I had to do and by the time I started working on it I was overdrawn and exhausted and just wanted the *** thing to be done with. So I didn't do as well as I could have, I still got a B on the final exam. I'm fine with it.
Anna-Maija and I are still together. Thinking of ways to convey what our relationship is like, how it's going, and how much I love her leaves me speechless. We're very happy. We have a lot of fun together. I'm pretty sure she's still crazy about me. I'm crazy about her.
Graduation
Not mine, my little sister's. I know I said I was going to write about the Sopranos, I'm getting there. I just wanted to mention some of my thoughts on this subject first. Danielle graduated from Needham High School. She's going to be a freshman at Skidmore College in the fall. That's really cool. The school really is a great fit for her and I don't mind that she'll be around because I like hanging out with her. There won't be too much of that, though. I'm confident we'll be able to manage our social lives without having too many intersections of friends or parties.
Enough of that talk. I love you Danielle, but those weren't the thoughts that I wanted to share. I would like to share my thoughts on the idea of graduation ceremonies in general. I really didn't want to go to Danielle's graduation. Nothing personal against her; I think she should be congratulated for earning a diploma, I even said to her, "Congratulations!", but I just think that the graduation is one of the stupidest events ever conceived by human beings.
Think about it. Why do we go to these things? To watch someone we know dressed in a symbolic poncho pick up a piece of paper that we knew they were going to receive. It's not that exciting! The graduation is different than any other type of award show, contest, or performance I can think of. That's basically what it is, right? A structured presentation of awards, and everyone's a winner. We go out to see concerts, plays, speeches, lectures, movies, parades, to see what happens. There is drama involved. We don't know exactly what the outcome of our experience is going to be. At a graduation, we know: they graduated. The feat has already been accomplished.
At every graduation, before the presentation of diplomas, there are speeches. I actually have no problem with the speeches in principle. The speakers give advice. Fine. Listening to what someone has to say about how to live life isn't ever a bad thing. (Whether or not one decides to take the advice, another thing entirely). Speeches can be insightful, inspiring, and entertaining. If the ceremonial custom of graduation was for graduates to gather and listen to respected people give advice, I wouldn't have anything to rant about. There is one thing about the speeches, though. No matter how hard you try, giving blanket advice on life to a group of people who are one step closer to entering the "real world" eventually boils down to a few basic concepts: you are the future, you can make a difference, one person can change the world, don't be afraid to pursue your passions, go for it, Robert Frost went down a dirt road instead of a paved one.
Here's my idea. The one way I can think of to stop my eyes from rolling into the back of my head at the end of May and the beginning of June. To make graduation ceremonies a little more fun and a little more suspenseful, instead of reading everyone's name in alphabetical order, read the names in order of worst graduate to last. They are still getting the same degree, but now we get to know who barely scraped by and who really studied for their AP chemistry exams. Wouldn't that make the whole thing much more interesting and exciting?
Sopranos
There have been countless numbers of articles, conversations, and blogs about the final episode of the Sopranos. Here's mine. First off, I have been watching the show since the start of the second season and have seen every episode in the series at least twice. I have had a complicated relationship with the Sopranos and HBO for years. I was bored and thought the whole thing was going downhill in season four until the season finale when Carmela throws Tony out of the house. Edie Falco's acting in that episode is the best acting I have ever seen. She's phenomenal. She restored my hope. Then I thought the whole thing was going downhill again in season five until the final two episodes. The most upset I've ever been over something fake on television was when Adriana was killed by Silvio. Then Tony kills his cousin with a shotgun and Johnny Sack is arrested by the FBI. Faith restored!
Then season six came along. Tony getting shot by Junior was shocking, brilliant, riveting, the first episode set up so much good stuff. Then there was that utterly pointless dream sequence that Tony kept lapsing into when he was in the hospital. Vito Spatafore gets found out for being a homosexual, runs away, and spends way too many episodes developing a relationship with a volunteer fireman/cook. In one episode, the dramatic climax was an almost fight between Bobby and Paulie over a kids ride at a parade. Ugh. It wasn't all bad though. I did recognize that the writers of the show, slowly but surely, were chipping away at everything important and meaningful in Tony Soprano's life. Things were starting to come crashing down and Tony, especially in the final eight episodes, was starting to lose it. The three episodes preceding the series finale were masterful. Tony killing Christopher after the car wreck, admitting his relief to Dr. Melfi in a dream, and having a freak out in Vegas on a peyote trip. AJ tries to kill himself and we end that episode with a shot of father and son poetically standing together inside the doors of an inpatient mental health facility. The penultimate episode got me fired up for the finale. I was pissed that they decided to kill off Silvio, my favorite character, but happy that it looked like the Sopranos masterminds had chosen a path and had done it in such a way that no one could venture a guess with any degree of certainty as to what that path would be. Death to Tony? Gang wars? Kill one of Tony's family members? Witness protection?
I have to give it to David Chase, no one saw this one coming. Nothing. Anyone who's interested in reading this has probably seen the episode or heard about it and heard about the various reactions viewers have had. The first words uttered in my house after the screen snapped to black were mine, about 10 seconds into the credits, "Did I miss something?"
Chase chose to have Tony's immediate troubles basically resolve themselves and end with an excruciatingly normal scene at a random diner. He is showing the viewer that Tony's life, now that he has fended off the potential threats on his mode of existence, will continue on in the fashion that we have seen, we just won't be there to see it. At least, I think that's what he was going for. He didn't go about it very well, though.
Okay, if he wants Tony's life to fall into a state of relative equilibrium, I get that. He decidedly went against popular dramatic theory and demand and did not choose a course of action that condemned or redeemed Tony. I think that's an incredibly insightful way to end the series. "The Sopranos" has never judged its characters for their actions and has never shown a direct cause-and-effect between what they do, what happens to them, and its relevance to good and evil. Cool. But, seriously, that ending sucked.
Three things. The first is that the war with New York ended far too easily. All Tony needed was a 10 minute sitdown with two of the New York guys and, bada bing, the killing will stop? It needed to be much harder than that for Tony to get a cease-fire. If he had to work at it, fight for it, and get lucky with a hit on one of New York's lower level men before a sitdown was even a possibility, then I would have had an easier time accepting that New York was willing to lay off. The second thing is that the FBI agent needed more reason to give Tony the information about Phil's whereabouts. I don't know if it's because he thought Tony would start giving him more information, or if it was part of some sort of sting operation, or if he is having a major life crisis and is acting out by taking huge risks. I can't say for sure, so I deduct points from the episode for that.
The third thing is what everyone has been talking about. That final scene in the diner. I watched it a second time and realized what the problem was. It wasn't what most people have been saying, that the scene was just so normal with a few hints at possible dangers from ordinary citizens. It was the opposite, it was very surreal. I watched it a second time On Demand and figured out what the problem was. Tony walks into the restaurant, then a shot of the restaurant from his point of view is shown, then a shot of his face looking at the restaurant is shown again, then the same shot at the restaurant from the same point of view is shown but with Tony in the middle of the screen sitting at a booth. I actually doubt that it was intentionally ambiguous as to whether or not this was a dream sequence. That sequence of shots made it seem like Tony was looking at himself in the diner, probably in another famous Sopranos dream sequence. I think it was a mistake in editing that made it seem like Tony was looking at himself, when it was really just supposed to show that he was sitting in the restaurant, nothing more. Then there's the other aspect of the scene that made it seem so surreal. "Don't stop believing", by the band Journey, was playing too loudly. I can't tell what purpose this was for, because I think that David Chase wanted it to be just normal, with a few shots of the other customers to get the viewers thinking about whether or not he's going to kill Tony. The song was way too loud, making the experience feels surreal. If the editing at the very beginning of the scene was done a little differently, and the music was played at normal volume, I think that people would have understood the theme of life returning to normal.
I'm probably wrong, and David Chase probably intended everything to be the way that it was and to get the reaction that it did. I'm sure he didn't want as many people to be angry about the ending as there are, but maybe he was intentionally ambiguous. If that's the case, then I say shame on him. People make the wrong assumption when they think that being ambiguous and downright confusing is a positive thing because it makes people think. It doesn't make people think, it makes people confused. Confused people get angry and opinionated and judgmental and don't stop to think and consider options. More clearly displaying the action that is actually taking place, and more clearly developing the possible reasons why, would get people to think. He definitely got everyone talking, but talking about whether or not the entire thing is bullsh*t gets off the topic of the content of the show and moves to the validity of the content itself.
Too bad, because I really f*cking love The Sopranos.
--Zack
PS A fair number of people have told me that they don't receive stuff from care pages anymore and I know that some people's e-mail addresses have changed. I would really appreciate it if some of you sent some mass e-mails out to your address books or something to let people know that I'm writing again. If they have to sign up for care pages again, the care page name to find my stuff on is ZackWeinstein. No spaces between Zack and Weinstein. Thank you very much.
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