Hooligan

Oh the meandering path of knowledge I stumble upon after watching a movie. Last night I watched Green Street Hooligans with Elijah Wood and Charlie Hunnam. Despite my initial annoyance that British actor Hunnam sounded like he was struggling with the accent, I enjoyed the movie. Hey, I'm a sucker for British manliness. People might think that's an oxymoron, but one should never underestimate the ferocity of a scrapper. Actually, the things I liked most about the movie were the presence of Rafe Spall (so cute in A Room with a View) and the scenes of pub sing-a-longs. I have spent much of the company's time today looking up this movie and the real football clubs and hooliganism on which it is based. I love the fact that West Ham United's anthem is a tinkly little song written in 1918:

I'm forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air
They fly so high
Nearly reach the sky
Then like my dreams they fade and die

Fortune's always hiding
I've looked everywhere
I'm forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air

What I haven't been able to find yet is information about a familiar tune that cropped up during the pub scene - that I think is connected to the "7 pounds, 12 ounces" chant the family does in The Snapper.

Passions and Pursuits

"What is he like? What are his tastes, his passions, his pursuits?"

I saw a woman on the train yesterday wearing a Sheela-na-Gig necklace. It reminded me of an earlier time when I had passions and interests. Right now the thing I am most passionate about is my Netflix queue.*

Recently Watched:
Freaks and Geeks, episodes 1-6 - Jason Segel: cute!
Son of Rambow - British boys: cute!
Doc Martin, episodes 1-6 - surly British doctor: cute in an awkward sort of way!
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day - Amy Adams: cute!
Jane Austen Regrets - kind of dreary actually

New discovery: Gavin and Stacey
Thank goodness for On Demand, otherwise I wouldn't get to see the occasional BBC gem.
The first two episodes were really good, I hope it lasts.

I also recently watched a best-of DVD of The Johnny Cash Show and as I sang along with Tammy Wynette I felt rejuvenated by my love for the old-timey country music. One of the clips showed Mama Carter singing "Wildwood Flower," the song I liked in the movie Walk the Line:
Oh, he taught me to love him
And called me his flower
That was blooming to cheer him
Through life's dreary hour.
Oh, I long to see him
And regret the dark hour
He's gone and neglected
This pale wildwood flower.

*But really, there isn't anything I am passionate about. I definitely used to have hobbies and interests. As nerdy as it is, I loved being in school, I loved researching papers and stumbling upon random periodicals with articles about the divorce laws in Ireland. I went to an event with Irish authors and I got so many autographs. I took art classes! I went to concerts! I wrote stories! I kept journals that weren't all about health issues and sad-sack complaints!

OK, I am not totally without interests now. But even so, whenever I see someone with a tattoo, I still think I could never do that. Why isn't there anything I am so passionate about that I would want it permanently fixed on my skin? Why does it take a little nudge like The Johnny Cash Show to remind me of what makes me me?