My wife's favorite movie is High Fidelity. She might say otherwise, but when it's on TV she will watch it to the end regardless of the starting point. It's a weird metric to determine quality, as it relies on being broadcast on television. I haven't been able to think of a better way to pick a favorite movie (or FILM if you wanna be a jerk about it). There is a long list of movies I'd like you to know that I like, to imply that my taste is respectable. I love 400 Blows, but I've probably only watched it 3 times. For comparison, I saw Jurassic Park eight times in the theater, but is it a better movie? Can you even compare the two?

I heard a critic use the phrase "the promise of ecstasy", meaning we watch movies to escape into a euphoric place where we take part in what is on screen. "You are watching this again?" Yes, because I know what's going to happen and I am going to love it perhaps even more the second time. This is what makes navigating the endless titles of Netflix so overwhelming. I fear disappointment, so now I'm watching The Nice Guys for the fifteenth time. It's a good movie... a great movie? Not sure yet, but I doubt it. 

What are my favorite movies? I don't know, but I can list five that I can watch start to finish, or midway to finish, from five to ninety-five minutes in.

1. Fargo
2. Alien
3. Back to the Future
4. Casino
5. Die Hard with a Vengeance

There's little commonality between any of these titles other than I have seen them all 30-100 times each. I could also argue that Ocean's Eleven should be on this list, but a) I have a hard time admitting how many times I've seen it, b) seems redundant with the far superior Casino at number 4. So the list is a lie via omission even in the guise of a guilty pleasure. Ok so you've seen these titles the most, but what are the BEST movies? I might say:

1. Blowout
2. Rosemary's Baby
3. Possession
4. Full Metal Jacket
5. Rushmore

But this list too is a lie. I probably like Lost in Translation more than Full Metal Jacket, though its ridiculous to compare them to each other. "Who is a better band: Metallica or the Beatles?" It doesn't account for context. I saw one movie on an airplane and the other in IMAX. I can't recall a critic even mentioning how they watched the movie. Was it an oscar screener? Did your roommate score a bootleg DVD from that guy in Washington Sq. park? Movies are a gateway to pure escapism. Did you escape or were you tethered to reality (or some form of it) via Twitter, only half paying attention, thereby missing the experience altogether?

A good movie captures the attention of the audience, a great one dissolves the edges of the screen pulling us into full blown escapism. The advent of home theater is great for movie watching, and also terrible. I can't remember a pack of dogs going ballistic when the doorbell rang on screen at the theater. We are struggling to pay attention long enough to appreciate anything, so ranking disparate works of art is at best mindless clickbait. 

A few years ago I documented a crosswalk painting public art installation in my neighborhood designed by the very talented Aaron Perezette. His wife Sharon contacted me to help document a large scale sculpture installation at the newly opened Midtown Park. This afforded me the chance for one truly sweat-inducing (not fond of heights) crane shot.

I love the playful nature of Sharon Engelstein's work, so I tried to make this as fun as possible.

I moved back to Houston in 2012. I truly missed going to MLB games, it made no difference to me that my beloved 'Stros were rebuilding. In my first year of college I had a lot to figure out, but I still remember sitting in the rec center alone watching my team get clobbered 4x in a row by the White Sox. That team had all the dinosaurs of my youth, the Killer B's and a Roger Clemens that refused to die. 

I screamed in tandem at the TV along with my North TX roommate when the Rangers crapped out a few years later. In my defense, it was ideologically easier to root for the Rangers when the Astros were still in the NL. I had no job in 2012, so I regularly went to the nearly empty day games in Minute Maid. I so enjoyed being able to get in to the park for a couple bucks that the team record was irrelevant. The strangest part is that I don't recall ever seeing them lose in person, and the only player I knew by name was a young(er) Jose Altuve. I didn't understand the move to the American League or the strategic differences with having a dedicated DH spot. I was just glad to never see the Braves or Cardinals again. The new ownership brought back the H-star logo, reminding me of all the hats my dad bought for me in the cavernous Astrodome, where it felt like we were always playing the Pirates. The train conductor motif uniforms (circa '05 WS) were an all time low for the franchise IMO, overplaying the playful (deliberate) idiosyncrasies of Enron Field against my city's starring role in winning the space race vs. those pesky Russians. 

In 2015, I was accepted into a graduate business program and took a sweet day job. An intense longing sensation grew within me, unable to find the time to take in a four hour game. I followed more closely as the team slowly replaced unknowns with smart draft picks, and wouldn't you know it we beat the damn Yankees in a (wild) Wild Card game. Then followed one brutal 200 hit inning verses the Royals, Correa giveth and Correa taketh away. Those Royals went on to win the WS and I wondered if it could ever happen in Houston.

This semester, I was able to scale back my hours significantly, taking only a single online class. There was finally time for baseball, and I couldn't have picked a better time to free up my schedule. The past two years have been a real grind for me personally, and I'm celebrating my own victory. I watched countless videos of people celebrating at Minute Maid last night and was moved to actual tears. What a time to be alive!

Harvey was the single most devastating event to hit Houston in my limited years on this earth. I was here for the '94 floods, Ike, (skipped Allison & Rita in college), Memorial Day, Tax Day. I've still never seen so much of the city under water (and much of it is still under water). I held my breath as they released Addicks and Barker reservoirs into Buffalo Bayou (seen below), Downtown saw a lot of water. Everywhere did really. I took as many pictures as I could before my camera shut off prematurely from getting a little too wet. As much as it pained me to see my city destroyed by biblical flooding, the local news put out some of the most enthralling 80 hours of television I've ever seen. Thankfully I had power to tune in. Texas forever.