Dear Mr Fincher...

I've just been to see movie The Girl Who Played With Fire, the sequel to The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. I am now tearing through the third and final volume of Swedish writer Stieg Larsson's gripping trilogy and eagerly anticipating the third film.
While I preferred the first movie, I enjoyed both the Swedish made films of the novels. But this being L.A, of course there's an American remake on the way.
Oh no, I hear you groan, let's see what a dog's dinner Hollywood can make of yet another excellent European movie.
Just as films of your favourite novel never seem to quite measure up, American remakes of foreign films often fall short of the original.
I'm still waiting to see what happens to the fine French thriller Cache, which has been optioned by a couple of big Hollywood hitters including Ron Howard but still (perhaps mercifully) hasn't reached the screen yet.
It's not all bad news. At the helm of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is David Fincher who made The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button and Seven.
Casting is everything of course, and let's hope Mr Fincher doesn't yield to studio pressure to go the commercial route, but gives us at least half as interesting a choice as Noomi Rapace, who nails the role of Salander in the Swedish movies so brilliantly.
And, Mr Fincher, can you please keep the author's lovely intention of having Blomkvist eat and drink his way through every crisis: "He put on his sports jacket and went downstairs. He ordered a coffee and a cheese and liver pate sandwich.....Blomkvist bought a pasta meal from the 7-Eleven on his way home..."
Come on, it's part of Micke's character. In fact, everyone is constantly chowing down or drinking coffee in the books. Please keep that in - I know Mr Larsson put it in for a reason.
I'm hopeful that Mr Fincher will give us something that conveys the complexity and intelligence of the books, but going on past records, I'm not convinced that something will not be lost in translation. I'd love to be proved wrong!

Intern-al affairs

When I was a kid, the only intern I knew of was TV's Dr. Kildare. Now as I comb the job vacancy lists, the most frequent word I read is "intern".
Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't an internship meant to be a professional training of some kind, on the understanding that if you make the grade, there could be a job at the end of it. And traditionally, internships cover your expenses or pay a small stipend.
These days it seems there is very little likelihood of getting a paid position at the end of internships which typically run from a month to six months. Heck no. They just replace you with another eager and willing pair of hands, desperate to get a foothold in their desired field.
What's more, most interns complain that they get no travel or food expenses. This means interns are actually paying to work, which just doesn't seem fair to me.
Why not just come right out and say it: "Come and work for us for free, then get back in the job line. Sure, you'll have some valuable experience that may include being a general dogsbody, but whoever promised you more than that? Next sucker, please!"

Too old to have an opinion?

I've just been turned down by a company who runs focus groups as being too old to take part. Apparently, if you're over 50, you don't have an opinion - or at least not one the marketers care about.
This particular survey was for testing out new TV pilot shows - "But I watch loads of TV," I protested. Not good enough as I'm not deemed to be a big spender on all the products that might get advertised in the commercial breaks, it seems.
Undaunted, I checked out my inbox today and found half a dozen other possible focus groups but was out of luck again as the cut off ages were 39, 49 and 54. I wasn't even eligible for the "snacks at home" one - even though I now eat more snacks than ever before in my life and certainly more than are good for me.
So what happened to 50 being the new 30? Not to mention the surveys that show a growing older population with more disposable income than any other section of society. Most people over 50 have the kids off their hands and have paid off the mortgage. We're all living longer and out to have more fun. So what gives? I'm not exactly ready to roll over. I own an iPod, a smart phone, a digital camera, go to rock concerts, love clothes, dining out, going to movies, taking vacations, eating chocolate - so I'm clearly still a consumer. Apparently, I'm an invisible one.

Rhubarb, rhubarb...

Yorkshire rhubarb has joined the elite ranks of produce whose names can’t be mucked about with, including Champagne and Parma Ham.
UK environment secretary Hilary Benn announced recently that the sweet, tender shooted forced rhubarb, grown and harvested by candlelight, is now officially on the list of specially protected foods and drink.
Yorkshire rhubarb is the 41st home grown product whose name is now protected, along with the likes of Swaledale cheese (a favourite of mine), and Cornish Sardines.
I miss my mum’s home made rhubarb crumble – you don’t see much rhubarb here in California – but I for one am starting to recognise the value of home grown produce and it seems I’m not alone.
One of the first things that struck me about California was its proliferation of farmer’s markets, thronging with shoppers armed with everything from modest hemp bags to full sized grocery carts, all stocking up for the week with locally grown, seasonal produce.
It was almost like being a kid again – enjoying sun kissed strawberries picked early that morning in Oxnard, or a variety of weird and wonderful squashes, or perhaps local honey, said to keep allergies at bay.
This morning I felt mildly disgruntled that I couldn’t buy my blueberries at the grocery store until I realised they come from Chile at this time of year and nothing is getting out of that earthquake ravaged zone just now.
We are so used to having everything we want, all year round (even though it may have flown thousands of miles, sat in warehouses for ages and lost much of its goodness). Perhaps it’s time to appreciate the special things that grow in our own backyard a little more – be it humble Yorkshire rhubarb, or a nice bottle of organic pinot noir from Napa Valley and a sliver of Humboldt Fog cheese. Pass the organic rosemary crackers....