When many of you were in college and were expanding your musical horizons, The League sort of made a half-hearted effort to do the same. Our passing interest in David Bowie increased seven-fold, We went through a period where we bought every Talking Heads, David Byrne and related album (and slept happily beneath a subway poster of the least-exciting looking band in rock). And, when JAL took me to the Paramount to see "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" around March of 1995, I fell for the film scores of Ennio Morricone.
I was familiar with soundtrack to "The Mission", and a few other Morricone works, but first "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" and then "Once Upon a Time in The West" and continuing with "Once Upon a Time in America"... Morricone stood out to me (as a wide-eyed film student) as the perfect blending of film and music, rivalling John Williams for pure, iconic themes that told the story as much or more than, oftentimes, the dialogue itself.
The score to "Once Upon a Time in America", along with the one-sheet movie poster, are probably actually better than the final product of the film. The score manages to accomplish what many scores fail to do (but what I thought Ottman managed to accomplish quite well with "Superman Returns"), and that is speak the inner monologues for the characters.
As long-time Leaguers will know, I gave up on the Oscars several years ago when I realized most of the pictures nominated either never made it to my neighborhood, or could not possibly live up to the hype once it began. In addition, why on earth would I watch a bunch of over-paid actors run through a list of agents and producers to get their name on the air and thereby force the actor in question to beg for more work even as they're supposedly receiving their profession's highest accolade?
Hollywood is a sick, sick town.
So it was this evening that Jamie lured me down from the Fortress of Nerditude to watch the "honorary" or "lifetime achievement" award to Ennio Morricone, as he must not have ever won an award before and it was making the Academy look kind of dumb. Especially if Morricone died with no awards and having re-written the way in which film scores could work.
It was awkward enough that Eastwood didn't wear his glasses and in front of an audience of 1 billion people couldn't read the teleprompter, but...
well, (a) nobody in the audience really applauded for any of Morricone's scores as they played, except for "Good, Bad and the Ugly". And (b) as if to add insult to injury, someone tapped Celine Dion to lay words over the score to "Deborah's Theme" from "Once Upon a Time in America". Apparently not Dion, the lyricist, the Academy, any directors or producers had actually seen "Once Upon a Time in America" and knew that "Deborah's Theme" was not a song about finding one another in the moonlight. I don't want to get too much into what I THINK it's about, but it is not about filling up four extra minutes in your show at the Bellagio.
Also, Celine forgot the words at the mid-point of the song and just let out a "whooooo!" to cover it up. Well played, Celine. Well played.
This was followed by the appearance that the Academy was unaware that Morricone does not speak English. They invited him to give a speech, and a few awkward moments went by as Eastwood stood there and was supposed to translate, I guess. or Eastwood forgot his glasses and couldn't read the teleprompter again. We may never know.
The good part was that when Morricone got up to give his speech (in Italian, which Paltrow was pretending to understand), Quincy Jones and his daughter (Karen, from "The Office") totally stole Morricone's seat. No, he didn't steal it. He moved down to fill in for the cameras, but I like to think he and his daughter were treating it like a baseball game and thinking "if that guy leaves, we're totally snagging those seats!"
Also, for some reason, a Mussolini look-alike was seated behind Morricone's wife. I guess the Morricone's are old school Italians..?
I suppose I'm mostly irritated to know that the Soccer-Moms of America will now be driving around in their Ford Excursions listening to "the new Celine", unaware that Dion has butchered a once perfectly reputable bit of movie scoring.
Only at the Oscars would people choose to honor a man by taking one of his greatest works, render it unrecognizable, and hand it over to help a hokey Vegas-act sell some CD's at Wal-Mart while diluting any sense of the man's genius from the song. After all, Celine's producer's soft-rock sensibility know that lowest common denomintaor sound that really sells.
Congrats, Ennio. Welcome to LA.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film For Theaters
Coming soon...
I now know this film will have everything I ever wanted to see in a single movie.
Thank you, movie poster.
I now know this film will have everything I ever wanted to see in a single movie.
Thank you, movie poster.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Justice League of America: THE MOVIE?
Great Rao!
Warner Bros. to try the impossible and make a JLA film!
Randy sent along this link.
Comic Fodder had this to say (Shawn's words, not mine).
Ain't It Cool News
And the all-seeing eye of Variety. Note that Variety used a JLU comic cover with Vibe right smack dab in the middle. I take this as an ill-omen.
***UPDATE***
I've posted a bit on some thoughts for WB as they embark on this venture.
Warner Bros. to try the impossible and make a JLA film!
Randy sent along this link.
Comic Fodder had this to say (Shawn's words, not mine).
Ain't It Cool News
And the all-seeing eye of Variety. Note that Variety used a JLU comic cover with Vibe right smack dab in the middle. I take this as an ill-omen.
***UPDATE***
I've posted a bit on some thoughts for WB as they embark on this venture.
New Machine
No Obama
I didn't see Obama today. I'm a bit down about it. Apparently Texans for Obama underestimated the appeal of their own candidate as I circled for twenty or thirty minutes looking for a place to park north and south of the river, and as I was on my lonesome and it began raining, I threw in the towel and went home.
News8 was estimating 20,000 folks were there to see Obama, and Texans for Obama thought they'd max out at 16,000. Originally the meet had been scheduled for Gregory Gym. That would have been a fiasco as Gregory Gym sits at the center of campus and has zero parking and accessibility for non-UT staff and students.
I take it Mr. Obama's campaign is going well.
At lunch the other day we were discussing Obama, and I think his appeal over Clinton is that Hilary might be the smartest person in the room... or she might not. She's sort of the valedictorian who got there by sacrificing every moment of social time and spending lunches in the library. She knows she's worked for it, and thus believes she deserves the position and the accolades. But when she goes up to give her big valedictorian address, she comes off bitter and weird and demanding of respect. When she talks about her high school years, and what she sees for the future, everyone sort of realizes "Wow, you spent every Saturday night watching SNL alone, didn't you?"
Let the Conversation Begin? ...yikes...
Oh, Hilary, you over-achiever, you.
Obama might be more of the same, but he's so new to the national political scene and he's been fairly consistent since he came on the scene that one doesn't look at him with 16 years of baggage tied on. And, as my friend Juan said, he's got that "Mr. Obama Goes to Washington" vibe going on.
I guess since I missed him, now I have to read his website.
A Vista with a View
Leaguers may recall that I recently purchased a new desk. Leaguers may also recall that the motherboard on my laptop recently took the dirt nap.
So, unable to deal with the realities of the modern world sans computer, I went and ordered a Dell Desktop. As you can imagine, all new Dell's come with Microsoft Vista.
I was pleased with the haul I got with my fairly standard desktop. 20" monitor, printer, some fairly nice speakers, optical mouse and a really, really clacky keyboard. Clack. Clack. Clack.
I'm sort of non-plussed with Vista, as I suspected I would be. They've sort of changed everything just enough that you have to spend an extra twenty seconds poking around for once familiar icons, etc... As the Mac commercials promise, Vista does have the Agent Smith security asking you questions as you plug along, but I don't think it's really any different from what MS has tradionally done with Windows. That's not to say I love the pop-ups, but I sort of feel like that's par for the course when dealing with Microsoft's security problems.
The look is certainly inspired by the gummy, glassy look Mac's UI has sported for the past few years, although it's tinged with a bit of the ol' MS sterility.
One thing MS should do when you get your new computer is ask you: Are you an idiot? Click here for "yes", click here for "no". In a week or so, the questions and "getting to know you" screens will quit appearing. For now I just minimize them and occasionally poke around, but for the most part... Windows is windows, and I don't really need a tutorial. And my guess is, most folks buying Vista aren't going to welcome those screens, either.
There's a feature called "Gadgets" that's sort of dumb, but I confess to liking the big, shiny clock and calendar living in the background.
I sort of miss 3.1 every once in a while. Oh, sweet Packard Bell 486, you were my first love. We got through the Clinton years together. Sure, it was weird in those final months when I had to tap the hard drive on the desk to get it to start spinning... but those were good times. Good times.
New Route
The problem now is that I think I figured out that my Linksys wireless router's WIRED portion isn't working. In short, I can either run the WAN into the wireless router and Jamie has access, or I run it into my machine and I have internet access.
Is four years too late to return a wireless router to Best Buy?
I didn't see Obama today. I'm a bit down about it. Apparently Texans for Obama underestimated the appeal of their own candidate as I circled for twenty or thirty minutes looking for a place to park north and south of the river, and as I was on my lonesome and it began raining, I threw in the towel and went home.
News8 was estimating 20,000 folks were there to see Obama, and Texans for Obama thought they'd max out at 16,000. Originally the meet had been scheduled for Gregory Gym. That would have been a fiasco as Gregory Gym sits at the center of campus and has zero parking and accessibility for non-UT staff and students.
I take it Mr. Obama's campaign is going well.
At lunch the other day we were discussing Obama, and I think his appeal over Clinton is that Hilary might be the smartest person in the room... or she might not. She's sort of the valedictorian who got there by sacrificing every moment of social time and spending lunches in the library. She knows she's worked for it, and thus believes she deserves the position and the accolades. But when she goes up to give her big valedictorian address, she comes off bitter and weird and demanding of respect. When she talks about her high school years, and what she sees for the future, everyone sort of realizes "Wow, you spent every Saturday night watching SNL alone, didn't you?"
Let the Conversation Begin? ...yikes...
Oh, Hilary, you over-achiever, you.
Obama might be more of the same, but he's so new to the national political scene and he's been fairly consistent since he came on the scene that one doesn't look at him with 16 years of baggage tied on. And, as my friend Juan said, he's got that "Mr. Obama Goes to Washington" vibe going on.
I guess since I missed him, now I have to read his website.
A Vista with a View
Leaguers may recall that I recently purchased a new desk. Leaguers may also recall that the motherboard on my laptop recently took the dirt nap.
So, unable to deal with the realities of the modern world sans computer, I went and ordered a Dell Desktop. As you can imagine, all new Dell's come with Microsoft Vista.
I was pleased with the haul I got with my fairly standard desktop. 20" monitor, printer, some fairly nice speakers, optical mouse and a really, really clacky keyboard. Clack. Clack. Clack.
I'm sort of non-plussed with Vista, as I suspected I would be. They've sort of changed everything just enough that you have to spend an extra twenty seconds poking around for once familiar icons, etc... As the Mac commercials promise, Vista does have the Agent Smith security asking you questions as you plug along, but I don't think it's really any different from what MS has tradionally done with Windows. That's not to say I love the pop-ups, but I sort of feel like that's par for the course when dealing with Microsoft's security problems.
The look is certainly inspired by the gummy, glassy look Mac's UI has sported for the past few years, although it's tinged with a bit of the ol' MS sterility.
One thing MS should do when you get your new computer is ask you: Are you an idiot? Click here for "yes", click here for "no". In a week or so, the questions and "getting to know you" screens will quit appearing. For now I just minimize them and occasionally poke around, but for the most part... Windows is windows, and I don't really need a tutorial. And my guess is, most folks buying Vista aren't going to welcome those screens, either.
There's a feature called "Gadgets" that's sort of dumb, but I confess to liking the big, shiny clock and calendar living in the background.
I sort of miss 3.1 every once in a while. Oh, sweet Packard Bell 486, you were my first love. We got through the Clinton years together. Sure, it was weird in those final months when I had to tap the hard drive on the desk to get it to start spinning... but those were good times. Good times.
New Route
The problem now is that I think I figured out that my Linksys wireless router's WIRED portion isn't working. In short, I can either run the WAN into the wireless router and Jamie has access, or I run it into my machine and I have internet access.
Is four years too late to return a wireless router to Best Buy?
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Update
BIG COMIC WEEK
Goodness. After a few lackluster weeks, this week was kind of nuts. Superman finally hit the stands again. Civil War #7. Amazing Spider-Man. Wonder Woman. Checkmate. A good week. I'll be posting reviews, etc... to Comic Fodder.
Can't Vote for my Candidate
So after swearing off American Idol, I decided to spend some time with Jamie last night, and that meant watching American Idol.
I think I'm letting my prior irritation with the show go as I understand AI understood they may have crossed a line with their audition shows this year, and at this point, they are getting down to the nitty gritty of actually caring about how people sing.
Anyhoo, I only watched about half of last night's show, but I thought it was pretty clear that Lakisha Jones is in a completely different league from the other teeny-bopper contestants trying their best to emulate better singers. Lakisha simply IS one of those better singers. She's simply not been discovered to this point.
Lakisha is not beautiful, and when not singing, her self-esteem drops to nil. But I think AI voters are smarter than they used to be and no longer just vote for the poodles the first few rounds.
As mentioned above, I couldn't vote for Lakisha. I tried. I tried calling on and off for about an hour and could never get through as the line was busy. I take that as a very good sign for Ms. Jones.
'08
Friday I am taking time out of my busy schedule to go and see Presidential Hopeful Barack Obama speak at Auditorium Shores. Schedule providing, I want to see everyone who swings through Austin and speaks in a public venue which does not require $1000 a plate dinners. This includes folks from any party you want to throw at me.
I am, of course, most curious about Obama. I've no idea what his politics and policies actually are (I guess I could read his book or his website), and aside from being relatively fresh to DC, and having a smoking habit, I don't know much about the guy. So Friday I shall go to hear some platitudes and get some vitamin D.
I 2 IKEA
When I was 17 we were headed back from a weekend in San Antonio visiting College Jason. I have no idea how long it had been there, but it was the first time I'd ever noticed Ikea, and the first time I had to go there.
As a grumpy 17-year-old with lots of homework to do and with no plans to buy furniture, I was more or less shanghied into a shopping trip to the amazing assemble-it-yourself furniture store. If Ikea was looking to create a nightmare scenario for a reluctant shopper, they'd fully succeeded.
For those of you have never been to Ikea, it's the only shopping experience I'm aware of that demands a forced march out of its patrons. Like Disney World, there are probably hidden doors and passagways for use by the staff, but for schlubs like me, you have an endless march through adorable housing goods ahead of you.
The bottom line is that Ikea requires that you make a visit to their store an event. You cannot go to Ikea just to buy, say, a spatula. You're going to pick up a table, an ottoman, cutting board, drapes and various unnecessary plastic objects.
So this week I needed an inexpensive desk. I'd done my due diligence at Target, Wal-Mart, Office Depot and the Office Max site. But as a gentleman of generous vertical and horizontal proportions, and with a mass close to that of a white dwarf star, I was pretty sure one of the particleboard specials designed for college kids wasn't going to work for me.
So, after a little bit of browsing their website, I decided Wednesday would send me to Ikea.
Ikea is located north of Round Rock, which is a pretty good jog from South Austin. When I was a kid, Round Rock was but a happy little hamlet without much going on. In fact, their two claims to fame were (A) during the cowboy era, a notorious criminal named Sam Bass had been gunned down in the streets of Round Rock, and (B) the actual Round Rock, which was a point for turning around in a creek on the Chisolm Trail.
Now, it's suburban sprawl of the Chandler-kind. JoAnne Fabrics abound. Restaurants like "Cheddar's" dot the freeway. A huge flyover is being put in at an intersection that used to be a swinging stop light. It's a true oddity how Austin stops a few miles South of downtown, but goes on for an infinite distance North of town.
The Ikea was a looming monstrosity of Univ. of Michigan blue and gold, clearly visible a mile or two before reaching the store. What struck me immediately is that Ikea's philosophy is fundamentally different from virtually any other store. They trust their own shoppers to handle their shopping. There are not chipper teenagers positioned every thirty feet (who can't answer your questions, anyway). Items are marked fairly well, and you're able to grab a pencil and paper and write down the items you need to pick from the bins at the end. Further proving their faith in their shoppers, Ikea requires that if you want a desk, you don't just write down the table name. You have to write down the tabletop model, the frame number and the sort of legs you'd like as all parts are mix-n'match. There's a bit of personal responsibility associated with your purchasing. No commissioned sales staff showing you items you don't want to look at, and because you live by the laws of polite society, you are forced to look at.
Also, they had a totally sweet late-80's mix playing over the PA at a comfortable volume everywhere you went.
But I still had to walk through The Maze of Scandinavian Consumer Madness. I can't say it didn't work. I bought a cheese grater Octavio had once described to me in glowing terms, a spatula I thought would solve my pancake-and-egg-turning problem, a cutting board for properly shuffling chopped vegetable bits into a pot, and a turtle pillow for Jamie's delicate noggin. But mostly, I found a desk of the exact dimensions I'd imagined, with adjustable legs to fit my elephantine body structure, and it was white. I did not want stained wood as the colors of my office are, shall we say, not exactly reminiscent of a woodland meadow. I also have to mention the price was in line with what I might have paid for a low-end desk elsewhere, the furniture was easier to assemble than any Target furniture, and was made out of materials I have some faith in.
I'm definitely much more supportive of the Ikea than I was prior to my shopping expedition. I am not crazy about the near-hour drive to get there, nor the aimless meandering of shopping there, but I suspect repeat trips to Ikea will not be a frequent occurence. However, return we will. I saw options for our kitchen and for our upstairs hall/ oddly proportioned upstairs area that gave me some ideas. And that, Leaguers, is the point of the forced march. I may not have bought a hallway's worth of bookshelves yesterday, but I might next time.
Ikea, you win again.
Goodness. After a few lackluster weeks, this week was kind of nuts. Superman finally hit the stands again. Civil War #7. Amazing Spider-Man. Wonder Woman. Checkmate. A good week. I'll be posting reviews, etc... to Comic Fodder.
Can't Vote for my Candidate
So after swearing off American Idol, I decided to spend some time with Jamie last night, and that meant watching American Idol.
I think I'm letting my prior irritation with the show go as I understand AI understood they may have crossed a line with their audition shows this year, and at this point, they are getting down to the nitty gritty of actually caring about how people sing.
Anyhoo, I only watched about half of last night's show, but I thought it was pretty clear that Lakisha Jones is in a completely different league from the other teeny-bopper contestants trying their best to emulate better singers. Lakisha simply IS one of those better singers. She's simply not been discovered to this point.
Lakisha is not beautiful, and when not singing, her self-esteem drops to nil. But I think AI voters are smarter than they used to be and no longer just vote for the poodles the first few rounds.
As mentioned above, I couldn't vote for Lakisha. I tried. I tried calling on and off for about an hour and could never get through as the line was busy. I take that as a very good sign for Ms. Jones.
'08
Friday I am taking time out of my busy schedule to go and see Presidential Hopeful Barack Obama speak at Auditorium Shores. Schedule providing, I want to see everyone who swings through Austin and speaks in a public venue which does not require $1000 a plate dinners. This includes folks from any party you want to throw at me.
I am, of course, most curious about Obama. I've no idea what his politics and policies actually are (I guess I could read his book or his website), and aside from being relatively fresh to DC, and having a smoking habit, I don't know much about the guy. So Friday I shall go to hear some platitudes and get some vitamin D.
I 2 IKEA
When I was 17 we were headed back from a weekend in San Antonio visiting College Jason. I have no idea how long it had been there, but it was the first time I'd ever noticed Ikea, and the first time I had to go there.
As a grumpy 17-year-old with lots of homework to do and with no plans to buy furniture, I was more or less shanghied into a shopping trip to the amazing assemble-it-yourself furniture store. If Ikea was looking to create a nightmare scenario for a reluctant shopper, they'd fully succeeded.
For those of you have never been to Ikea, it's the only shopping experience I'm aware of that demands a forced march out of its patrons. Like Disney World, there are probably hidden doors and passagways for use by the staff, but for schlubs like me, you have an endless march through adorable housing goods ahead of you.
The bottom line is that Ikea requires that you make a visit to their store an event. You cannot go to Ikea just to buy, say, a spatula. You're going to pick up a table, an ottoman, cutting board, drapes and various unnecessary plastic objects.
So this week I needed an inexpensive desk. I'd done my due diligence at Target, Wal-Mart, Office Depot and the Office Max site. But as a gentleman of generous vertical and horizontal proportions, and with a mass close to that of a white dwarf star, I was pretty sure one of the particleboard specials designed for college kids wasn't going to work for me.
So, after a little bit of browsing their website, I decided Wednesday would send me to Ikea.
Ikea is located north of Round Rock, which is a pretty good jog from South Austin. When I was a kid, Round Rock was but a happy little hamlet without much going on. In fact, their two claims to fame were (A) during the cowboy era, a notorious criminal named Sam Bass had been gunned down in the streets of Round Rock, and (B) the actual Round Rock, which was a point for turning around in a creek on the Chisolm Trail.
Now, it's suburban sprawl of the Chandler-kind. JoAnne Fabrics abound. Restaurants like "Cheddar's" dot the freeway. A huge flyover is being put in at an intersection that used to be a swinging stop light. It's a true oddity how Austin stops a few miles South of downtown, but goes on for an infinite distance North of town.
The Ikea was a looming monstrosity of Univ. of Michigan blue and gold, clearly visible a mile or two before reaching the store. What struck me immediately is that Ikea's philosophy is fundamentally different from virtually any other store. They trust their own shoppers to handle their shopping. There are not chipper teenagers positioned every thirty feet (who can't answer your questions, anyway). Items are marked fairly well, and you're able to grab a pencil and paper and write down the items you need to pick from the bins at the end. Further proving their faith in their shoppers, Ikea requires that if you want a desk, you don't just write down the table name. You have to write down the tabletop model, the frame number and the sort of legs you'd like as all parts are mix-n'match. There's a bit of personal responsibility associated with your purchasing. No commissioned sales staff showing you items you don't want to look at, and because you live by the laws of polite society, you are forced to look at.
Also, they had a totally sweet late-80's mix playing over the PA at a comfortable volume everywhere you went.
But I still had to walk through The Maze of Scandinavian Consumer Madness. I can't say it didn't work. I bought a cheese grater Octavio had once described to me in glowing terms, a spatula I thought would solve my pancake-and-egg-turning problem, a cutting board for properly shuffling chopped vegetable bits into a pot, and a turtle pillow for Jamie's delicate noggin. But mostly, I found a desk of the exact dimensions I'd imagined, with adjustable legs to fit my elephantine body structure, and it was white. I did not want stained wood as the colors of my office are, shall we say, not exactly reminiscent of a woodland meadow. I also have to mention the price was in line with what I might have paid for a low-end desk elsewhere, the furniture was easier to assemble than any Target furniture, and was made out of materials I have some faith in.
I'm definitely much more supportive of the Ikea than I was prior to my shopping expedition. I am not crazy about the near-hour drive to get there, nor the aimless meandering of shopping there, but I suspect repeat trips to Ikea will not be a frequent occurence. However, return we will. I saw options for our kitchen and for our upstairs hall/ oddly proportioned upstairs area that gave me some ideas. And that, Leaguers, is the point of the forced march. I may not have bought a hallway's worth of bookshelves yesterday, but I might next time.
Ikea, you win again.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
2007 Mellies?
Hey, Leaguers. Last year I think I got a little overambitious as far as The Mellies went. We had tons of questions, about 4X the number of respondents I'd expected, and I spent an insane amount of time putting the whole thing back together. Basically, by the end, I swore I'd never do it again.
Instead of abandoning the Mellies, I'm looking for interest levels to see if I should run this again.
How did you feel the last round went?
If we did it, would you participate?
Would you be willing to place your answers in the comments section rather than have me assemble everyone's responses?
It's in your hands, Leaguers. Tell me what you want.
Instead of abandoning the Mellies, I'm looking for interest levels to see if I should run this again.
How did you feel the last round went?
If we did it, would you participate?
Would you be willing to place your answers in the comments section rather than have me assemble everyone's responses?
It's in your hands, Leaguers. Tell me what you want.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Bone Headed Movie
Just saw "Ghost Rider".
Wow.
Curiously, it's not Nic Cage who is going to drive you nuts. I think Nic Cage must have held both the director and the script in contempt and chose to just sort of do his own thing. And that's the only brilliance you'll see in "Ghost Rider".
After the movie spends somewhere near twenty minutes putting together the set-up, the rest of the action is just sorta obvious. Sorta. They pretty much say "Here's Ghost Rider, here's what he does. He has to keep X from happening." But this is also one of those movies where things were either lost in script versions, on the editing room floor, or because the director didn't know what he was doing. This is the same director as Daredevil, so who knows. Not me. There's just some action that seems to occur just to occur and not because it makes much sense. Like Wes Bentley's wardrobe.
It's not really clear why Satan's son is in a fight with daddy, or what his master plan is. Or why he...
Oh, heck. At least the movie moves along really, really fast. And Eva Mendes is very good looking, even if she has the least believable presence as a news reporter in recent memory. But, again, she's very good looking, and so we can forgive her.
Sam Elliot plays the old Ghost Rider, who actually DOES have precedent from the comics, if my West Coast Avengers memory serves.
I dunno. It's a dumb movie. But the FX are decent, Cage was funny, and Eva Mendes is, I repeat, very good looking.
I've not read a lot of Ghost Rider comics. Frankly, I thought the character was sort of one note. But that can work okay in a movie. It just doesn't sustain over an ongoing comic series.
Wow.
Curiously, it's not Nic Cage who is going to drive you nuts. I think Nic Cage must have held both the director and the script in contempt and chose to just sort of do his own thing. And that's the only brilliance you'll see in "Ghost Rider".
After the movie spends somewhere near twenty minutes putting together the set-up, the rest of the action is just sorta obvious. Sorta. They pretty much say "Here's Ghost Rider, here's what he does. He has to keep X from happening." But this is also one of those movies where things were either lost in script versions, on the editing room floor, or because the director didn't know what he was doing. This is the same director as Daredevil, so who knows. Not me. There's just some action that seems to occur just to occur and not because it makes much sense. Like Wes Bentley's wardrobe.
It's not really clear why Satan's son is in a fight with daddy, or what his master plan is. Or why he...
Oh, heck. At least the movie moves along really, really fast. And Eva Mendes is very good looking, even if she has the least believable presence as a news reporter in recent memory. But, again, she's very good looking, and so we can forgive her.
Sam Elliot plays the old Ghost Rider, who actually DOES have precedent from the comics, if my West Coast Avengers memory serves.
I dunno. It's a dumb movie. But the FX are decent, Cage was funny, and Eva Mendes is, I repeat, very good looking.
I've not read a lot of Ghost Rider comics. Frankly, I thought the character was sort of one note. But that can work okay in a movie. It just doesn't sustain over an ongoing comic series.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
What up
I think at this point I've more or less explained what that post from the other day was all about to the folks who asked. Let us all put that behind us now, shall we?
I learned an important lesson this week regarding my expectations of my own life, and, I think, in keeping my ears and eyes open when it comes to the big decisions.
In less exciting life lessons, I also learned that the comic store is going to do everything their power not to give you any money for your comics when you go to resell back issues. The good news on this is that I held onto a lot of my Spider-Man comics, so those didn't just disappear on me. I also still have my runs on X-Men and Uncanny X-Men. And more closet space. But I will never, ever try to resell comics at the comic shop. I guess I don't mind too much that I practically gave away the comics I gave away, as I had no plans for reading them ever again, and was pretty certain nobody was going to be that interested in reading them, either.
But, yeah, the whole thing left a sort of bad taste in my mouth. I can't say my tastes are really that much more refined today than they were when I bought a lot of those comics in the last twelve years or so, but I was given some good tips by my Comic Shop owner/manager in PHX. His advice: Pick one thing you're going to collect, focus on that, and if you manage to collect all of those, great. Then you can move on. Now, this applies for purchase of back-issues and less for purchase of current titles. Obviously if I buy Extreme Combat Rats #1, it doesn't mean I should buy every issue of Extreme Combat Rats. But it does mean that if I am to "build" a collection, it's best to have long runs ona title. There is, basically, no advice for what to do with your copies of Extreme Combat Rats numbers 1 -4 that you purchased, but gave up on, and then saw was cancelled with issue 13. It's unlikely anyone will ever really want those.
(Although there will be someone out there who will set up an Extreme Combat Rats fan site, possibly with their own fan art and fan fiction.)
What I did get was some store credit to Austin Books, with which I picked up the Invincible Ultimate Collection Vol. 1, as per JimD's recommendation. And JimD was right. Invincible doesn't necessarily bring a lot new to the superhero genre, nor even really the Teen Superhero genre. Instead, the series takes the concept and simply chooses to execute on some fairly well worn ideas extremely well. In fact, a forward thinking movie producer would find a way to turn the first 13 issues into a very popular 2-2.5 hour movie.
Saturday jason auditioned me for our new, non-existent band. Jamie played key boards, I played the bass and Jason played drums. Sigmund showed up for the end and played the trombone, and thus was born: Sigmund and the Steans Monster (and Andy). Look for us to be filling stadiums next summer, as people rock out to our hit "If I was a Fish".
Last night we headed to Jeff and Keora's place over on Enfield. Apparently Jeff and Keora live in a quad-apartmenet building tucked amongst some obscenely expensive homes in one of Austin's older, monied neighborhoods. I do not know why, but their rent is insanely reasonable. A while back I kept asking Jeff why he didn't move, but I will never ask him that question again.
Anyway, Jason just called and I think we're headed for food, coffee and maybe the dog park.
I learned an important lesson this week regarding my expectations of my own life, and, I think, in keeping my ears and eyes open when it comes to the big decisions.
In less exciting life lessons, I also learned that the comic store is going to do everything their power not to give you any money for your comics when you go to resell back issues. The good news on this is that I held onto a lot of my Spider-Man comics, so those didn't just disappear on me. I also still have my runs on X-Men and Uncanny X-Men. And more closet space. But I will never, ever try to resell comics at the comic shop. I guess I don't mind too much that I practically gave away the comics I gave away, as I had no plans for reading them ever again, and was pretty certain nobody was going to be that interested in reading them, either.
But, yeah, the whole thing left a sort of bad taste in my mouth. I can't say my tastes are really that much more refined today than they were when I bought a lot of those comics in the last twelve years or so, but I was given some good tips by my Comic Shop owner/manager in PHX. His advice: Pick one thing you're going to collect, focus on that, and if you manage to collect all of those, great. Then you can move on. Now, this applies for purchase of back-issues and less for purchase of current titles. Obviously if I buy Extreme Combat Rats #1, it doesn't mean I should buy every issue of Extreme Combat Rats. But it does mean that if I am to "build" a collection, it's best to have long runs ona title. There is, basically, no advice for what to do with your copies of Extreme Combat Rats numbers 1 -4 that you purchased, but gave up on, and then saw was cancelled with issue 13. It's unlikely anyone will ever really want those.
(Although there will be someone out there who will set up an Extreme Combat Rats fan site, possibly with their own fan art and fan fiction.)
What I did get was some store credit to Austin Books, with which I picked up the Invincible Ultimate Collection Vol. 1, as per JimD's recommendation. And JimD was right. Invincible doesn't necessarily bring a lot new to the superhero genre, nor even really the Teen Superhero genre. Instead, the series takes the concept and simply chooses to execute on some fairly well worn ideas extremely well. In fact, a forward thinking movie producer would find a way to turn the first 13 issues into a very popular 2-2.5 hour movie.
Saturday jason auditioned me for our new, non-existent band. Jamie played key boards, I played the bass and Jason played drums. Sigmund showed up for the end and played the trombone, and thus was born: Sigmund and the Steans Monster (and Andy). Look for us to be filling stadiums next summer, as people rock out to our hit "If I was a Fish".
Last night we headed to Jeff and Keora's place over on Enfield. Apparently Jeff and Keora live in a quad-apartmenet building tucked amongst some obscenely expensive homes in one of Austin's older, monied neighborhoods. I do not know why, but their rent is insanely reasonable. A while back I kept asking Jeff why he didn't move, but I will never ask him that question again.
Anyway, Jason just called and I think we're headed for food, coffee and maybe the dog park.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
The Era Resumes
Sometimes (when you're single) you meet a really nice girl. She's pretty, and she's funny, and she even agrees with you that Trompe Le Monde by The Pixies is a pretty good album, when everyone else in the world thinks it wasn't a great effort. You have a good first date, and you think "Wow, this is it!"
At he beginning she mentioned she liked mountain biking, and while you weren't that into mountain biking, you thought "That's fine! I can go mountain biking every once in a while. We love The Pixies!" But then when you go out the next time, all she talks about is how you're going to go mountain biking. She talks about tire types, changing tires, handle grips and certain kinds of dirt on certain kinds of paths.
So, you bring up The Pixies, and you realize the only Pixies album she actually owns is Trompe Le Monde.
Figuring it's a fluke, you try again and she insists on actually going mountain biking. So you figure, "Ah, that's okay. I can try this."
So you go mountain biking. And while you've ridden a bike before, you aren't keeping up because, honestly, who takes a two-wheeled vehicle under your own power into rocky terrain?
You go out again, and it's more mountain biking. More talk of mountain biking. More trails and rocks. Anyway, she's being sort of encouraging.
But you realize, "She doesn't just like her mountain biking, she NEEDS to go mountain biking." So as pretty and funny as she is, and even though she also likes Trompe Le Monde (in her own way) you realize that maybe this isn't such a good idea.
And so, anyway, you call it off sort of abruptly. No doubt she's pissed. After all, you liked biking, didn't you?
So you're single again, and you sort of talked her up to everyone, so what does that make you?
At he beginning she mentioned she liked mountain biking, and while you weren't that into mountain biking, you thought "That's fine! I can go mountain biking every once in a while. We love The Pixies!" But then when you go out the next time, all she talks about is how you're going to go mountain biking. She talks about tire types, changing tires, handle grips and certain kinds of dirt on certain kinds of paths.
So, you bring up The Pixies, and you realize the only Pixies album she actually owns is Trompe Le Monde.
Figuring it's a fluke, you try again and she insists on actually going mountain biking. So you figure, "Ah, that's okay. I can try this."
So you go mountain biking. And while you've ridden a bike before, you aren't keeping up because, honestly, who takes a two-wheeled vehicle under your own power into rocky terrain?
You go out again, and it's more mountain biking. More talk of mountain biking. More trails and rocks. Anyway, she's being sort of encouraging.
But you realize, "She doesn't just like her mountain biking, she NEEDS to go mountain biking." So as pretty and funny as she is, and even though she also likes Trompe Le Monde (in her own way) you realize that maybe this isn't such a good idea.
And so, anyway, you call it off sort of abruptly. No doubt she's pissed. After all, you liked biking, didn't you?
So you're single again, and you sort of talked her up to everyone, so what does that make you?
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tired
The new job continues apace. I'm still trying to adapt to a new environment, names, people, ideas, alphabet soup and cube life.
Mostly I spent the first two days completely exhausted and jittery on caffeine. I also feel completely out of touch with the world as personal e-mail is still something I'm not sure is okay, no "web surfing" in the office (even during lunch, I guess...), and I'm not really picking up the phone. Still the new guy. Gotta look crazy busy, and I am.
Poor Jamie. I took her out to dinner last night, and I know I was a million miles away the entire time. We went to Austin-fave-spot Castle Hill in our attempt to do something nice for a change. I just didn't think i was very good company.
Today, at least, I am not totally exhausted. I remember this from starting the job in PHX. I was tired for most of the first month, and then one day my body adjusted to the lack of sleep, I settled in, and got used to things in general. It'll happen again. It's just going to take time.
Poor Lucy is very upset by my return to work. Mel is, too, but he seems to understand what is going on, while Lucy has spent 1/5th of her life with me at home for her amusement. Her clock is off as she's waking up when I get up. And today Mel actually came and got me out of bed as I tried to squeeze in five more minutes of sleep. Apparently he wanted to be fed and would not be denied.
I saw an article that mentioned a ton of bands are going back out on tour, including Van Halen and The Police. There's an odd generational thing that happens every decade where the folks who were kids or teenagers during a certain decade is able to somehow relive their past, now that they've got an income and will pay out the nose to see their bands. In the 70's, 50's music was big. In the 80's, the Summer of Love generations pilt no small amount of ink telling us how great it had been and making sure the "oldies" and classic rock stations played 60's faves. In teh 90's we all uffered through a revival of the Village People and Disco nostaglia. And now we're getting the Police and Van halen (I'm sorry you Hagar fans, Van Halen is an 80's band).
There was some commentary about the "sad" state of music that we have to pull from a catalog that's 20 years old to build concensus, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Those bands didn't just pay their dues, they're still selling records twenty years after they broke up. Where's the NKOTB reunion tour? Weren't we once told they were bigger tan the Beatles?
Hop everyone is having a good Valentine's Day.
Mostly I spent the first two days completely exhausted and jittery on caffeine. I also feel completely out of touch with the world as personal e-mail is still something I'm not sure is okay, no "web surfing" in the office (even during lunch, I guess...), and I'm not really picking up the phone. Still the new guy. Gotta look crazy busy, and I am.
Poor Jamie. I took her out to dinner last night, and I know I was a million miles away the entire time. We went to Austin-fave-spot Castle Hill in our attempt to do something nice for a change. I just didn't think i was very good company.
Today, at least, I am not totally exhausted. I remember this from starting the job in PHX. I was tired for most of the first month, and then one day my body adjusted to the lack of sleep, I settled in, and got used to things in general. It'll happen again. It's just going to take time.
Poor Lucy is very upset by my return to work. Mel is, too, but he seems to understand what is going on, while Lucy has spent 1/5th of her life with me at home for her amusement. Her clock is off as she's waking up when I get up. And today Mel actually came and got me out of bed as I tried to squeeze in five more minutes of sleep. Apparently he wanted to be fed and would not be denied.
I saw an article that mentioned a ton of bands are going back out on tour, including Van Halen and The Police. There's an odd generational thing that happens every decade where the folks who were kids or teenagers during a certain decade is able to somehow relive their past, now that they've got an income and will pay out the nose to see their bands. In the 70's, 50's music was big. In the 80's, the Summer of Love generations pilt no small amount of ink telling us how great it had been and making sure the "oldies" and classic rock stations played 60's faves. In teh 90's we all uffered through a revival of the Village People and Disco nostaglia. And now we're getting the Police and Van halen (I'm sorry you Hagar fans, Van Halen is an 80's band).
There was some commentary about the "sad" state of music that we have to pull from a catalog that's 20 years old to build concensus, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Those bands didn't just pay their dues, they're still selling records twenty years after they broke up. Where's the NKOTB reunion tour? Weren't we once told they were bigger tan the Beatles?
Hop everyone is having a good Valentine's Day.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Weekend/ First Day of Work
Friday Night Jamie and I headed North by Northwest to sup with JAL and his lovely wife, Tania. JAL and I go back almost as far as The League and Peabo. Curiously, JAL lives in N. Austin, but works very close to League HQ, in fact between The Hopalong Lounge and the House of Peabo. I shall begin working to convince him to join us in the 78745/04 area with all due speed.
The JAL's are a fun couple, and we had a lovely evening, even if we got a little droopy early in the evening and had to call the night just prior to JAL's knife tricks.
Saturday was relatively uneventful, but Cassidy joined us for some fun. I had planned to organize my comics for sale to Austin Books (no, not all of them), but then I realized I had to make a list of the stuff I was getting rid of so my database would be accurate, so I did that instead of anything productive. Plus, FedEx delivered a box of meat to our house, but the meat was for some other guy. Jamie called FedEx and explained to them our meat situation. So now we have this random box of meat sitting in the fridge as FedEx is tasked with tracking down the true owner of the meat.
Hit Threadgill's for catfish and okra. Then to Jason's where we watched Ghost Ship, a fairly awful haunted house movie with a terribly misused Julianna Marguiles and Gabriel Byrne. What fascinated me (and JackBart should take note) was that you could almost see the half-way decent movie that might have existed had Joel Silver not been attached to the project. Instead, you sort of get "movie in a can". Five characters explain their two-dimensional motivations in pointless explosition, enter haunted house, pretty girl survives. Just as in the 90's remake of "The Haunting", nobody on this picture understood the concept of "less is more".
Sunday I bought a cowboy hat. It's true. I bought a straw Stetson at Cavender's Boot City. Jason does not like my hat. But I do. I think it looks sharp. He also decried my plan to buy silver-toed cowboy boots with fancy bluebonnets stitched into the leather.
Dinner at Hunan, where I am becoming BFF with the waitress, Sue. Me and Sue are becoming big pals, and to prove it, Sue hooked Jamie up with some extra rice last night. It's nice that I like their food, but when I feel like a regular somewhere, I'm ten times likelier to hit that place up when we go out. I expected to be a regular by now at Casa G's, but I think the place is so full of frequent flyers that everyone is a regular.
I could not sleep last night, and so I stayed up far too late finishing my weekly comic reviews and working on my HR paperwork for the new job. Then, I just lay awake. After keeping a nocturnal schedule for the past few months, getting up at 6:15 for work hit me like a sledgehammer. I have some apologizing to do tomorrow. I was so @#$%ing tired, I was ready to fall asleep all day.
So far so good. It's my first job where my office isn't sort of in the thick of town, so I will have to get used to being out on 360. I may also have a window in my cube (sort of like some of the cubes at my office in AZ, OH). I will miss having an office, and apparently there's a strict "no surfing" policy which is fairly well policed, which is kind of creepy. I found myself wondering today if my Google searches were being monitored as I looked up some information on some B2B systems.
All in all, the job looks very promising, and the folks in the surrounding cubes seem like some decent joes and janes. Plus, forty minutes in to work today in fog and rain, and 30+ minutes home in sunshine. I used to have an hour home for my five mile drive from Briar Street to UT. This is a commute I can handle.
I'm off to bed.
You kids be good.
The JAL's are a fun couple, and we had a lovely evening, even if we got a little droopy early in the evening and had to call the night just prior to JAL's knife tricks.
Saturday was relatively uneventful, but Cassidy joined us for some fun. I had planned to organize my comics for sale to Austin Books (no, not all of them), but then I realized I had to make a list of the stuff I was getting rid of so my database would be accurate, so I did that instead of anything productive. Plus, FedEx delivered a box of meat to our house, but the meat was for some other guy. Jamie called FedEx and explained to them our meat situation. So now we have this random box of meat sitting in the fridge as FedEx is tasked with tracking down the true owner of the meat.
Hit Threadgill's for catfish and okra. Then to Jason's where we watched Ghost Ship, a fairly awful haunted house movie with a terribly misused Julianna Marguiles and Gabriel Byrne. What fascinated me (and JackBart should take note) was that you could almost see the half-way decent movie that might have existed had Joel Silver not been attached to the project. Instead, you sort of get "movie in a can". Five characters explain their two-dimensional motivations in pointless explosition, enter haunted house, pretty girl survives. Just as in the 90's remake of "The Haunting", nobody on this picture understood the concept of "less is more".
Sunday I bought a cowboy hat. It's true. I bought a straw Stetson at Cavender's Boot City. Jason does not like my hat. But I do. I think it looks sharp. He also decried my plan to buy silver-toed cowboy boots with fancy bluebonnets stitched into the leather.
Dinner at Hunan, where I am becoming BFF with the waitress, Sue. Me and Sue are becoming big pals, and to prove it, Sue hooked Jamie up with some extra rice last night. It's nice that I like their food, but when I feel like a regular somewhere, I'm ten times likelier to hit that place up when we go out. I expected to be a regular by now at Casa G's, but I think the place is so full of frequent flyers that everyone is a regular.
I could not sleep last night, and so I stayed up far too late finishing my weekly comic reviews and working on my HR paperwork for the new job. Then, I just lay awake. After keeping a nocturnal schedule for the past few months, getting up at 6:15 for work hit me like a sledgehammer. I have some apologizing to do tomorrow. I was so @#$%ing tired, I was ready to fall asleep all day.
So far so good. It's my first job where my office isn't sort of in the thick of town, so I will have to get used to being out on 360. I may also have a window in my cube (sort of like some of the cubes at my office in AZ, OH). I will miss having an office, and apparently there's a strict "no surfing" policy which is fairly well policed, which is kind of creepy. I found myself wondering today if my Google searches were being monitored as I looked up some information on some B2B systems.
All in all, the job looks very promising, and the folks in the surrounding cubes seem like some decent joes and janes. Plus, forty minutes in to work today in fog and rain, and 30+ minutes home in sunshine. I used to have an hour home for my five mile drive from Briar Street to UT. This is a commute I can handle.
I'm off to bed.
You kids be good.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Previous to Hollywoodland
The feature film "Hollywoodland" was originally entitled "Truth, Justice and the American Way". Warner Bros. money was tied up in the film, and with Superman Returns expected to become a cultural phenomenon (along the lines of "Spider-Man" or "Pirates of the Carribbean"), the Super-Friendly title was changed. That said, "Hollywoodland" rolls off the tongue a bit better, anyway, unless you're making goo-goo eyes at spunky reporters.
In the next few days, Hollywoodland will be arriving in my mailbox via Netflix, and I'll watch the movie.
Here's the deal: In the past year or so, I've become quite a fan of George Reeves' Superman/ Clark Kent. As genuine as I continue to find Christopher Reeve's performance as a Man of Steel with a heart of glass, and as much as I think Brandon Routh was the right guy for the emotionally battered Superman of "Superman Returns"...
George Reeves Superman is the Superman that I watch and think "That's a Superman I can relate to!" Looking kind of paunchy in a fairly home-made looking suit, bemused by the guys shooting at me, making lots of comments regarding my dual identity at my co-worker's expense, and, of course, winking at the camera... I dare you to watch those episodes and NOT like Reeves (or, really, the whole cast).
The official story is that George Reeves killed himself, but ever since Reeves died, there have been suggestions that perhaps it wasn't Reeves who put the gun to his own head. And, I guess, that's more or less what the movie explores.
But I recently read an interview with Noel Neill in which she expresses her disappointment regarding the film. I highly recommend reading the interview here.
As infrequently as the newspapers or television seem to get a story right as it's breaking, what chance do filmmakers have of digging up much of the truth fifty years later?
So I'll watch the film. But I'll watch it with a certain eye of skepticism. Reeves' early death was tragic, no matter how it truly occured. I suppose it's somehow easier to think of the smiling Superman coming to an end not of his own doing than to think, as the movie posits, that the show and the character were what eventually led to his death.
Those are two very different stories, if there's a lesson to be garnered from all this. And it seems that there's not agreement even among those who knew Reeves during his final years, as to what may have happened.
More to follow when I've actually seen the movie...
In the next few days, Hollywoodland will be arriving in my mailbox via Netflix, and I'll watch the movie.
Here's the deal: In the past year or so, I've become quite a fan of George Reeves' Superman/ Clark Kent. As genuine as I continue to find Christopher Reeve's performance as a Man of Steel with a heart of glass, and as much as I think Brandon Routh was the right guy for the emotionally battered Superman of "Superman Returns"...
George Reeves Superman is the Superman that I watch and think "That's a Superman I can relate to!" Looking kind of paunchy in a fairly home-made looking suit, bemused by the guys shooting at me, making lots of comments regarding my dual identity at my co-worker's expense, and, of course, winking at the camera... I dare you to watch those episodes and NOT like Reeves (or, really, the whole cast).
The official story is that George Reeves killed himself, but ever since Reeves died, there have been suggestions that perhaps it wasn't Reeves who put the gun to his own head. And, I guess, that's more or less what the movie explores.
But I recently read an interview with Noel Neill in which she expresses her disappointment regarding the film. I highly recommend reading the interview here.
As infrequently as the newspapers or television seem to get a story right as it's breaking, what chance do filmmakers have of digging up much of the truth fifty years later?
So I'll watch the film. But I'll watch it with a certain eye of skepticism. Reeves' early death was tragic, no matter how it truly occured. I suppose it's somehow easier to think of the smiling Superman coming to an end not of his own doing than to think, as the movie posits, that the show and the character were what eventually led to his death.
Those are two very different stories, if there's a lesson to be garnered from all this. And it seems that there's not agreement even among those who knew Reeves during his final years, as to what may have happened.
More to follow when I've actually seen the movie...
Friday, February 09, 2007
Edward James Olmos Toy
Okay. It's actually a BSG toy. But that doesn't mean it's not totally awesome.
and for Randy and Reed...
what's up with the painted on boobs?
and for Randy and Reed...
what's up with the painted on boobs?
Thursday, February 08, 2007
90210 Confession
In the Fall of 1993, Peabo and I shared a 10x10 cell in Jester West. My TV viewing habits were significantly different from Peabo's prior to college. Essentially, I never watched TV after 5:00pm. I was not someone who felt they grew up with the Huxtable Family, or who knew every beat of every episode of Cheers. In fact, the KareBear had pretty firm rules regarding TV consumption on week nights when I was a kid, and I consequently never got into the habit of watching "prime time" programming until Peabo introduced me to Seinfeld that same year.
That is not to say I didn't watch TV. In the summers I watched hours and hours of Beverly Hillbillies reruns on KBVO, The Price is Right, and Sale of the Century. I was 12, but I had the viewing habits of a man 7 times my age.
I still think Ellie May is kind of funny.
I remember being vaguely aware of 90210 coming to TV. At the time I remember looking upon the program with the same suspicion that I looked upon any show I felt had pigeonholed me as a demographic. Plus, who could relate to the characters and storylines of a bunch of kids doing very un-High School-like activities, rolling in cash, and for whom life was pretty much already set?
A few kids at KOHS started sporting sideburns in tribute to Luke Perry or Jason Priestly. Fashion dolls found their way to the shelves of the toy aisle at the grocery, and I found out my prom date was a closet 90210 fan.
Now, to be honest, I wasn't exactly free from being hit as a target demographic. I watched more than my fair share of "Saved by the Bell", thanks to my pre-Show Girls interest in Jessie Spano. But when I completed high school, it was my plan to put all of that behind me.
So when Peabo announced it was 90210 night in my first fall of college, and that he would be watching 90210 whether I liked it or not, I packed my bag and headed to the library for a few hours to study for an Oceanography quiz. I was a serious college student with no time for the bobble-heads of the 90210 universe. Where was their angst? Where was their genuine human drama? To my dismay, Peabo was joined by my pals Beno and Julio, who both confessed to knowing quite a bit about the show.
I did not yet understand the genius behind "Donna Martin graduates."
It was a few weeks later that I had studying that could be put off and not wanting to leave my own dorm room when my friends were hanging out that I watched my first episode.
What I had not understood was that 90210 was a soap opera. Whether you liked the characters or felt any sympathy towards a single one of them was incidental to putting the characters in the most abso-ludicrous positions possible and then react with a straight face while making decisions that were (a) absolutely repugnant, but (b) created the most room for TV-soap drama.
Soon the crowd grew to include a few other folks from our floor, and Peabo began to keep a stack of disposable plastic cups on hand. At some point someone (I think Julio) had become so disgusted with the characters, he threw a cup at the screen. And so it came to pass that we all were armed with plastic cups with which to voice our displeasure in a manner approximating physical violence toward the characters for their boneheaded decision making.
What I recall most from those episodes was that character Kelly Taylor was positioned as the heroine of the program, but either because actress Jennie Garth was a passive-aggressive jerk in real life or because Jennie Garth wasn't much of an actress and thusly defaulted to angry at every opportunity, Kelly spent her episodes pouting every time another character disagreed with her. And because the show invariably vindicated Kelly Taylor, it seemed the longtime viewers of the program could not see through her veil of lies, when to eyes unfamiliar with the show she whined until the whinee could not longer stand it and gave in. (Oh, how I hate Kelly Taylor...)
Recently, Jamie figured out that 90210 runs for two hours every day on Soapnet. So there's been a LOT of 90210 viewing going on at my house of late. We're about 2/3rds of the way through the first year of college (the last season any character was seen to crack a book or go to class). And what I've realized is that all of the characters of 90210 are complete sociopaths. These characters inflict untold harm upon each other, and coccasionally complete strangers. They're elitist, snobby bastards who all seem completely put-out when any work is written into the show for them, and they join and drop campus-causes on a bi-episode basis.
In order to create drama, items like the school newspaper are blown up to NY Times proportions, and second semester freshman are seen as a plausible and persuasive voice within the university infrastructure. The show is absolutely awful, and embarassing. And yet, I cannot look away.
Part of the allure of the game now is that I did follow the program for two or three seasons, plastic cup in hand, and I know what drama befalls the characters. So, when the characters (such as Kelly Taylor) get up on their moral pedestal and preach down to the lowlies, you can remind them "hey, you develop a horrible coke habit in two more seasons. How about a little compassion?"
The "teens" of the show are absurdly old, in absurd situations faced by no prior college freshman in the age of man, and are far less worried about academics than even the guys who didn't come back after Christmas freshman year in Jester.
Jim and Cindy Walsh are supposedly successful corporate something-or-others, but theire really there to salute the two Walsh-children characters and to appear bemused but concerned. A thankless role, the two departed towards the end of teh college years.
And, of course, there's always Nat, played by fourth-string central casting bench warmer, Joe E. Tata. I am sure Mr. Tata has lots of credits to his name, but that poor dude had more humiliating scenes bowing and scraping before the teens of 90210 than I am sure he likes to think about.
That, and it's fun to say "Joe E. Tata" every time he appears on screen.
Upon re-watching the episodes, it seems that the writers were alternately not really trying, or had a mountain of contempt for their own characters. And who can blame them? Why not send the whiney DJ/ wanna-be hip-hop Beverly Hills dork on a whacked out Crystal Meth spree? Why not let the eye-brow wiggling Kerouac-dork get ripped off by his former step-mom? It's a soap opera, and nobody stays happy for long on a soap.
So I say, huzzah for 90210. You set out to fulfill a certain vision, you set the bar incredibly low, and you still failed to in many regards. But you did bring the world Tori Spelling, and for that, we are all eternally grateful.
That is not to say I didn't watch TV. In the summers I watched hours and hours of Beverly Hillbillies reruns on KBVO, The Price is Right, and Sale of the Century. I was 12, but I had the viewing habits of a man 7 times my age.
I still think Ellie May is kind of funny.
I remember being vaguely aware of 90210 coming to TV. At the time I remember looking upon the program with the same suspicion that I looked upon any show I felt had pigeonholed me as a demographic. Plus, who could relate to the characters and storylines of a bunch of kids doing very un-High School-like activities, rolling in cash, and for whom life was pretty much already set?
A few kids at KOHS started sporting sideburns in tribute to Luke Perry or Jason Priestly. Fashion dolls found their way to the shelves of the toy aisle at the grocery, and I found out my prom date was a closet 90210 fan.
Now, to be honest, I wasn't exactly free from being hit as a target demographic. I watched more than my fair share of "Saved by the Bell", thanks to my pre-Show Girls interest in Jessie Spano. But when I completed high school, it was my plan to put all of that behind me.
So when Peabo announced it was 90210 night in my first fall of college, and that he would be watching 90210 whether I liked it or not, I packed my bag and headed to the library for a few hours to study for an Oceanography quiz. I was a serious college student with no time for the bobble-heads of the 90210 universe. Where was their angst? Where was their genuine human drama? To my dismay, Peabo was joined by my pals Beno and Julio, who both confessed to knowing quite a bit about the show.
I did not yet understand the genius behind "Donna Martin graduates."
It was a few weeks later that I had studying that could be put off and not wanting to leave my own dorm room when my friends were hanging out that I watched my first episode.
What I had not understood was that 90210 was a soap opera. Whether you liked the characters or felt any sympathy towards a single one of them was incidental to putting the characters in the most abso-ludicrous positions possible and then react with a straight face while making decisions that were (a) absolutely repugnant, but (b) created the most room for TV-soap drama.
Soon the crowd grew to include a few other folks from our floor, and Peabo began to keep a stack of disposable plastic cups on hand. At some point someone (I think Julio) had become so disgusted with the characters, he threw a cup at the screen. And so it came to pass that we all were armed with plastic cups with which to voice our displeasure in a manner approximating physical violence toward the characters for their boneheaded decision making.
What I recall most from those episodes was that character Kelly Taylor was positioned as the heroine of the program, but either because actress Jennie Garth was a passive-aggressive jerk in real life or because Jennie Garth wasn't much of an actress and thusly defaulted to angry at every opportunity, Kelly spent her episodes pouting every time another character disagreed with her. And because the show invariably vindicated Kelly Taylor, it seemed the longtime viewers of the program could not see through her veil of lies, when to eyes unfamiliar with the show she whined until the whinee could not longer stand it and gave in. (Oh, how I hate Kelly Taylor...)
Recently, Jamie figured out that 90210 runs for two hours every day on Soapnet. So there's been a LOT of 90210 viewing going on at my house of late. We're about 2/3rds of the way through the first year of college (the last season any character was seen to crack a book or go to class). And what I've realized is that all of the characters of 90210 are complete sociopaths. These characters inflict untold harm upon each other, and coccasionally complete strangers. They're elitist, snobby bastards who all seem completely put-out when any work is written into the show for them, and they join and drop campus-causes on a bi-episode basis.
In order to create drama, items like the school newspaper are blown up to NY Times proportions, and second semester freshman are seen as a plausible and persuasive voice within the university infrastructure. The show is absolutely awful, and embarassing. And yet, I cannot look away.
Part of the allure of the game now is that I did follow the program for two or three seasons, plastic cup in hand, and I know what drama befalls the characters. So, when the characters (such as Kelly Taylor) get up on their moral pedestal and preach down to the lowlies, you can remind them "hey, you develop a horrible coke habit in two more seasons. How about a little compassion?"
The "teens" of the show are absurdly old, in absurd situations faced by no prior college freshman in the age of man, and are far less worried about academics than even the guys who didn't come back after Christmas freshman year in Jester.
Jim and Cindy Walsh are supposedly successful corporate something-or-others, but theire really there to salute the two Walsh-children characters and to appear bemused but concerned. A thankless role, the two departed towards the end of teh college years.
And, of course, there's always Nat, played by fourth-string central casting bench warmer, Joe E. Tata. I am sure Mr. Tata has lots of credits to his name, but that poor dude had more humiliating scenes bowing and scraping before the teens of 90210 than I am sure he likes to think about.
That, and it's fun to say "Joe E. Tata" every time he appears on screen.
Upon re-watching the episodes, it seems that the writers were alternately not really trying, or had a mountain of contempt for their own characters. And who can blame them? Why not send the whiney DJ/ wanna-be hip-hop Beverly Hills dork on a whacked out Crystal Meth spree? Why not let the eye-brow wiggling Kerouac-dork get ripped off by his former step-mom? It's a soap opera, and nobody stays happy for long on a soap.
So I say, huzzah for 90210. You set out to fulfill a certain vision, you set the bar incredibly low, and you still failed to in many regards. But you did bring the world Tori Spelling, and for that, we are all eternally grateful.
Comic Posts
I know you care, so I thought I'd share...
There's some comic reviews up which are beyond compare.
Thanks to Jim D.'s suggestion I went ahead and posted on the Action Comics Annual released yesterday.
Also, see Part 1 of my amazing, rambling series: A Masters in DC Universe, a Minor in Wildstorm
There's some comic reviews up which are beyond compare.
Thanks to Jim D.'s suggestion I went ahead and posted on the Action Comics Annual released yesterday.
Also, see Part 1 of my amazing, rambling series: A Masters in DC Universe, a Minor in Wildstorm
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
End of an Era
As of Monday, The League returns to the drudgery of the work force. My status as a hobo has been rescinded.
Alas.
No more staying up until 3:00 AM reading funny books and teaching Jeff the Cat how to Flamenco dance. That's gonna have to happen between 10:00 and 11:00 from now on. Nor shall there be any more getting up and watching News8 and Headline News throughout the morning as I eat my Grape Nuts, check e-mail and hit the job boards. (I confess, I am not going to miss hitting the job boards.)
The position is one heck of an opportunity. Longtime Leaguers will know that, as a rule, I don't talk about work. But is it okay to say really good things? I can say the job is outside of the realm of public institutions of higher education. It's relatively close to League HQ. The folks seem really nice who I'll be working with, and I'm going to be only a small hop from Rudy's BBQ. The job let's me do what I like to do, with an eye on growth. I know who my customers are, and there's no question of how I'm reaching them. The organization does something I think serves the public interest, so I get to be a tiny cog in that machine.
In short, I'm really looking forward to my role as a lion tamer at the Austin Zoo.
(are there lion tamers any more? How do you train for that? There seems to be little room for error.)
So, you know, a job. That's the dream, isn't it? I like money, and it turns out that you really need it to get by in our post-industrial society. Apparently the city of Asutin talks a good game, but at the end of the day, they want for me to pay for water and trash collection. So much for them being MY representatives.
Stupid money.
Anyway, it was a good run of unemployment, and I really fulfilled my Office Space dream of doing absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, my dream was somewhat hampered by the NBA not playing daytime games during the week. Nor was the World Cup on. And baseball doesn't start until late spring.
Still, it was a good run.
So, yeah. I got a job.
Alas.
No more staying up until 3:00 AM reading funny books and teaching Jeff the Cat how to Flamenco dance. That's gonna have to happen between 10:00 and 11:00 from now on. Nor shall there be any more getting up and watching News8 and Headline News throughout the morning as I eat my Grape Nuts, check e-mail and hit the job boards. (I confess, I am not going to miss hitting the job boards.)
The position is one heck of an opportunity. Longtime Leaguers will know that, as a rule, I don't talk about work. But is it okay to say really good things? I can say the job is outside of the realm of public institutions of higher education. It's relatively close to League HQ. The folks seem really nice who I'll be working with, and I'm going to be only a small hop from Rudy's BBQ. The job let's me do what I like to do, with an eye on growth. I know who my customers are, and there's no question of how I'm reaching them. The organization does something I think serves the public interest, so I get to be a tiny cog in that machine.
In short, I'm really looking forward to my role as a lion tamer at the Austin Zoo.
(are there lion tamers any more? How do you train for that? There seems to be little room for error.)
So, you know, a job. That's the dream, isn't it? I like money, and it turns out that you really need it to get by in our post-industrial society. Apparently the city of Asutin talks a good game, but at the end of the day, they want for me to pay for water and trash collection. So much for them being MY representatives.
Stupid money.
Anyway, it was a good run of unemployment, and I really fulfilled my Office Space dream of doing absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, my dream was somewhat hampered by the NBA not playing daytime games during the week. Nor was the World Cup on. And baseball doesn't start until late spring.
Still, it was a good run.
So, yeah. I got a job.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
space love
Coming up, find out how Lisa Nowak went from operating a robot arm in space to driving 900 miles in a diaper. - what I woke up to this morning on CNN.
Ah, love.
This is just one more reason we should consider using more robots for space exploration.
Robots do not know the pain of love. Or do they? Do they, indeed?
Ah, love.
This is just one more reason we should consider using more robots for space exploration.
Robots do not know the pain of love. Or do they? Do they, indeed?
Monday, February 05, 2007
weekend
Yesterday was kind of kooky. Jamie is finally feeling better after a few weeks of being down. It was nothing too serious, but I think we're both glad she's back up on her feet and peppy again.
We did some tidying in the morning, then grabbed lunch with Jason at Jason's Deli (no relation). It's becoming kind of a thing to make sure Cassidy gets some face time each weekend with Mel and Lucy, so we got the dogs in the car (Dog is my co-pilot) and released the hounds to the backyard.
The Admiral and Karebear are considering moving to Austin when they retire (which will only enhance the power of The League), and so were in town to think a bit about their future plans and look at homes. We grabbed a quick drink at Trudy's, then went and looked at a development they'd checked out on 71. Neat stuff, but I have no idea if that's what they'll end up doing.
Saturday night we headed over to Juan D's place for a grown up dinner party. I made excellent friends with Juan's bat-eared dog, Levi, by feeding Levi pieces of bread and ham all through the night. Got to see Beta-Juan Garcia, his lovely wife Letty, Matt and Nicole, Candian Sarah and her Canadian friend. We're now apparently too old to just show up, start drinking beer and get in vicious debates over operating systems as we did in years of yore. Now it's civilized. Sort of.
Woke up, had brunch with Cousin Sue and the folks at Hyde Park Grill South. Said our good-byes, then Jamie and I came home and tidied-up some. Did some minor yard work and stood around in the front yard with the other guys on the street, all of us in awe of the amazingly good weather (it was 70, sunny and a bit breezy). I think I committed to going in on a bunch of grass pallettes with a few of us, but that's okay. We need new grass for the backyard.
We did our Superbowl Shopping Trip (I bought frozen White Castle burgers for the first time). We were invited to a Superbowl Party, but I knew Jason was en route and probably didn't want to sit in my neighbor's garage to watch the game.
Steven and Lauren joined us after the Prince half-time show, and we chatted through the second half and into a repeat of Puppy Bowl III.
Anyway, it's been a long, good weekend.
Inbetween all that, I talked to Jim D on the phone, talked to RHPT via e-mail (it's a long story, but I now own www.leagueofmelbotis.com... I just can't make it work with Blogger until Blogger updates some features. nonetheless, RHPT gets mad props.)
I was cheering for the Colts, so the game was fun for me. Jamie cheered for "points", so she cheered when someone almost scored or did score. I don't think anyone else had much invested. Except Cassidy, who loves The Bears.
Weird game. That one will probably have Superbowl Committees looking toward domed stadiums for future selections. What a wet, icky mess of a game for the first half.
I have been staying up working on my weekly reviews for Comic Fodder (now! With pictures!).
It is late. I am tired.
Hope you had a good weekend.
We did some tidying in the morning, then grabbed lunch with Jason at Jason's Deli (no relation). It's becoming kind of a thing to make sure Cassidy gets some face time each weekend with Mel and Lucy, so we got the dogs in the car (Dog is my co-pilot) and released the hounds to the backyard.
The Admiral and Karebear are considering moving to Austin when they retire (which will only enhance the power of The League), and so were in town to think a bit about their future plans and look at homes. We grabbed a quick drink at Trudy's, then went and looked at a development they'd checked out on 71. Neat stuff, but I have no idea if that's what they'll end up doing.
Saturday night we headed over to Juan D's place for a grown up dinner party. I made excellent friends with Juan's bat-eared dog, Levi, by feeding Levi pieces of bread and ham all through the night. Got to see Beta-Juan Garcia, his lovely wife Letty, Matt and Nicole, Candian Sarah and her Canadian friend. We're now apparently too old to just show up, start drinking beer and get in vicious debates over operating systems as we did in years of yore. Now it's civilized. Sort of.
Woke up, had brunch with Cousin Sue and the folks at Hyde Park Grill South. Said our good-byes, then Jamie and I came home and tidied-up some. Did some minor yard work and stood around in the front yard with the other guys on the street, all of us in awe of the amazingly good weather (it was 70, sunny and a bit breezy). I think I committed to going in on a bunch of grass pallettes with a few of us, but that's okay. We need new grass for the backyard.
We did our Superbowl Shopping Trip (I bought frozen White Castle burgers for the first time). We were invited to a Superbowl Party, but I knew Jason was en route and probably didn't want to sit in my neighbor's garage to watch the game.
Steven and Lauren joined us after the Prince half-time show, and we chatted through the second half and into a repeat of Puppy Bowl III.
Anyway, it's been a long, good weekend.
Inbetween all that, I talked to Jim D on the phone, talked to RHPT via e-mail (it's a long story, but I now own www.leagueofmelbotis.com... I just can't make it work with Blogger until Blogger updates some features. nonetheless, RHPT gets mad props.)
I was cheering for the Colts, so the game was fun for me. Jamie cheered for "points", so she cheered when someone almost scored or did score. I don't think anyone else had much invested. Except Cassidy, who loves The Bears.
Weird game. That one will probably have Superbowl Committees looking toward domed stadiums for future selections. What a wet, icky mess of a game for the first half.
I have been staying up working on my weekly reviews for Comic Fodder (now! With pictures!).
It is late. I am tired.
Hope you had a good weekend.
Friday, February 02, 2007
May The League recommend...
The Sarah Silverman Program
It's not often I feel uncomfortable watching a program, but still really enjoy watching it.
Actually, that's not entirely true. That's sort of how I feel watching most of the Adult Swim line-up.
And I also felt miserably hypocritical watching the the new Comedy Central show "The Sarah Silverman Program". I'm pretty sure the "Sarah" of the show is supposed to be on meds. And I'm pretty sure this show can't air before 10:00 on basic cable.
Also, there should be more singing on TV outside of American Idol.
It's not so much one moment or two moments that made the first episode particularly good, it was more the feeling of people who had an idea able to get their weird, half-ass'd show on the air and do whatever they wanted to do without a lot of fuss from the outside.
Portions of the show are probably not as funny to me as they might have been once, but I look forward to seeing what the next few episodes are like.
30 Rock
I have a semi-long-standing crush on Tina Fey. And have harbored a deep admiration for Alec Baldwin ever since The Shadow (yes, I love The Shadow. Shut up).
So, yes, of course I tuned in to 30 Rock. NBC has let this show grow and find it's way. And this week, the episode fetaured guest star Paul Reubens (a man who knows how to committ to a part) and Isabella Rossellini, who still is doing an excellent job of maintaining what her mother's genes gave her.
There's enough of a cast to mix things up from week to week, and its not turning into a comedy that is going to hamstring itself with a "Ross & Rachel" type scenario that always makes me go running from shows both comedy and drama.
Some folks are going to keep pointing to Studio 60, but as Studio 60 re-creates itself as a romantic dramedy to fend off cancellation, I'll continue watching the show that I believe is probably far closer to the truth of how things work back stage at a comedy show.
It's not often I feel uncomfortable watching a program, but still really enjoy watching it.
Actually, that's not entirely true. That's sort of how I feel watching most of the Adult Swim line-up.
And I also felt miserably hypocritical watching the the new Comedy Central show "The Sarah Silverman Program". I'm pretty sure the "Sarah" of the show is supposed to be on meds. And I'm pretty sure this show can't air before 10:00 on basic cable.
Also, there should be more singing on TV outside of American Idol.
It's not so much one moment or two moments that made the first episode particularly good, it was more the feeling of people who had an idea able to get their weird, half-ass'd show on the air and do whatever they wanted to do without a lot of fuss from the outside.
Portions of the show are probably not as funny to me as they might have been once, but I look forward to seeing what the next few episodes are like.
30 Rock
I have a semi-long-standing crush on Tina Fey. And have harbored a deep admiration for Alec Baldwin ever since The Shadow (yes, I love The Shadow. Shut up).
So, yes, of course I tuned in to 30 Rock. NBC has let this show grow and find it's way. And this week, the episode fetaured guest star Paul Reubens (a man who knows how to committ to a part) and Isabella Rossellini, who still is doing an excellent job of maintaining what her mother's genes gave her.
There's enough of a cast to mix things up from week to week, and its not turning into a comedy that is going to hamstring itself with a "Ross & Rachel" type scenario that always makes me go running from shows both comedy and drama.
Some folks are going to keep pointing to Studio 60, but as Studio 60 re-creates itself as a romantic dramedy to fend off cancellation, I'll continue watching the show that I believe is probably far closer to the truth of how things work back stage at a comedy show.
Mooninite Enablers Address the 4th Estate
I wish I had the presence of mind to do this sort of thing when my entire future is in the balance.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
The League tells you about love
Hello Leaguers. It's that magical time of year once again when young love blossoms, roses are in bloom, cherubs fill the air and everyone is but one magical evening away from romance.
I've been married for some time, and as such, I think I have a pretty good idea regarding how love works. So, here's some unwarranted advice I have for all the single-folk out there when it comes to how you can make Valentine's Day better:
Stow it.
Seriously.
Every year the blogosphere and work-time lunch conversations are filled with the nattering of the dateless and unmarried making as if their Totino's-For-One Valentine's Day should somehow be equated with the plight of an oppressed peoples. There's invariably a lot of talk about how the valentine cards and expensive dinners are but reminders of how others are blissfully in love, while the single-folk dwell in loveless solitude.
Look, I am very sorry you miss out on this holiday. I imagine it must be horrible, all the not spending money on gifts that will never see the light of day again, or waiting in line for two hours at some mediocre Italian place. Or the watching of whatever you want to watch on TV. The lack of "constructive" criticism from a mate, and all the nobody telling you that you don't look awesome in your homemade Hawkman outfit.
If you really want a Valentine's Day that's not going to make you feel all squooshy inside, then, for God's sake, cowboy up and ask someone out. Quit your crying and find some movie times and ask someone out. But do it well before Valentine's Day as that holiday is NOT a good day for a first date.
Keep in mind: The worst they can do is say no.
Well, the worst they can do is say "maybe", then string you along for a while so they have a chance to tell all their friends what a pathetic loser you are so all their friends can watch as you fumble along behind them, believing they might like you when, really, they think you're a worm. But if you picked a girl who was going to do that, your date selection needs some work.
this sort of flower is about to get stupidly expensive
Bear in mind, nobody ever had a great Valentine's Day by deciding nobody was going to go out with them. And crying about it doesn't exactly make anyone feel particularly sorry for you. Certainly not me.
I've been married seven years, and been associated with Jamie for more than eleven years. The truth is: Valentine's Day is for High Schoolers. It's a time to give Peggy Sue a teddy bear she can keep on her pink bedspread (until she dumps you two weeks into Freshman year of college), and to play grown-up when you wear your church pants and go all by yourself to the Olive Garden.
My hard-gained wisdom tells me that most folks on the other side of your Hallmark-laden nightmare do not care too much about Valentine's Day. I think we usually exchange store-bought cards on Valentine's Day, watch a re-run of "Scrubs" and then go get a Gyro or something some other day.
And here's the real deal for why I'm never too psyched about Valentine's Day: For dudes, Valentine's Day is a one-way gift street. This evening I saw a Zales commercial wherein a gentleman was examining a $500 trinket he'd purchased for his lady-love and smiling coyly to himself. Here's my issue: I am betting the lady-love did NOT spend $500 getting him a PS3 or new rims for his El Camino. One way gift street.
Many will object at this point and wish to sheepishly point out that supposedly there's snugglebunnies involved. Look, Leaguers... there's a name for that kind of transaction. I don't care what day it is.
When I was but a lad and working one of my three amazing summers at The Disney Store Willowbrook Mall, a family would come into the shop on a regular basis. Dad was a bald, chubby dude with a nicely trimmed mustache, and he'd be walking behind three kids, lined up like ducklings. At the front of the line was Mom. Mom was obviously born with some severe birth defects as her legs and arms had not fully developed, and, thusly, she was confined to a motorized wheel-chair.
Upon seeing the family, I remember thinking: That lady probably grew up thinking she may never meet someone who would see her for who she was. She may have cried herself to sleep after her own mother, hoping to be helpful, told her that nobody would ever want to really get to know her. You know, like in a Sir-Mix-A-Lot-XXX-Throwdown sense. But, somehow, these two crazy kids had found each other and raised a brood of miserable little hellspawn who would knock all the merchandise off the shelves.
The point is: Sure, you probably know it's a lot of self-loathing on Valentine's Day which has kept you from getting around to asking out that lady at the coffee shop or that guy who puts luggage in the bottom of the plane. But nobody is going to do that for you. Except for me. If you ask, I'm happy to do it. Or even if you don't. Really, it's best I never know if you're interested in someone as I'll just make you miserable until you get a date or they shoot you down. That's just how I roll.
But as we enter February, and I see the cards at Target and I reflect upon this completely made up day of romance... it's mostly the energy spent on the lonely-guy/gal nattering that drives The League insane. Nobody is persecuting you. Nobody but geeky teenagers is really enjoying Valentine's Day. Many of us are dreading spending this much money when we just paid off the Visa from Christmas. And nobody is stopping you from asking anyone out. Cowboy up.
And if they do turn you down, have a choice B and choice C lined up.
I've been married for some time, and as such, I think I have a pretty good idea regarding how love works. So, here's some unwarranted advice I have for all the single-folk out there when it comes to how you can make Valentine's Day better:
Stow it.
Seriously.
Every year the blogosphere and work-time lunch conversations are filled with the nattering of the dateless and unmarried making as if their Totino's-For-One Valentine's Day should somehow be equated with the plight of an oppressed peoples. There's invariably a lot of talk about how the valentine cards and expensive dinners are but reminders of how others are blissfully in love, while the single-folk dwell in loveless solitude.
Look, I am very sorry you miss out on this holiday. I imagine it must be horrible, all the not spending money on gifts that will never see the light of day again, or waiting in line for two hours at some mediocre Italian place. Or the watching of whatever you want to watch on TV. The lack of "constructive" criticism from a mate, and all the nobody telling you that you don't look awesome in your homemade Hawkman outfit.
If you really want a Valentine's Day that's not going to make you feel all squooshy inside, then, for God's sake, cowboy up and ask someone out. Quit your crying and find some movie times and ask someone out. But do it well before Valentine's Day as that holiday is NOT a good day for a first date.
Keep in mind: The worst they can do is say no.
Well, the worst they can do is say "maybe", then string you along for a while so they have a chance to tell all their friends what a pathetic loser you are so all their friends can watch as you fumble along behind them, believing they might like you when, really, they think you're a worm. But if you picked a girl who was going to do that, your date selection needs some work.
this sort of flower is about to get stupidly expensive
Bear in mind, nobody ever had a great Valentine's Day by deciding nobody was going to go out with them. And crying about it doesn't exactly make anyone feel particularly sorry for you. Certainly not me.
I've been married seven years, and been associated with Jamie for more than eleven years. The truth is: Valentine's Day is for High Schoolers. It's a time to give Peggy Sue a teddy bear she can keep on her pink bedspread (until she dumps you two weeks into Freshman year of college), and to play grown-up when you wear your church pants and go all by yourself to the Olive Garden.
My hard-gained wisdom tells me that most folks on the other side of your Hallmark-laden nightmare do not care too much about Valentine's Day. I think we usually exchange store-bought cards on Valentine's Day, watch a re-run of "Scrubs" and then go get a Gyro or something some other day.
And here's the real deal for why I'm never too psyched about Valentine's Day: For dudes, Valentine's Day is a one-way gift street. This evening I saw a Zales commercial wherein a gentleman was examining a $500 trinket he'd purchased for his lady-love and smiling coyly to himself. Here's my issue: I am betting the lady-love did NOT spend $500 getting him a PS3 or new rims for his El Camino. One way gift street.
Many will object at this point and wish to sheepishly point out that supposedly there's snugglebunnies involved. Look, Leaguers... there's a name for that kind of transaction. I don't care what day it is.
When I was but a lad and working one of my three amazing summers at The Disney Store Willowbrook Mall, a family would come into the shop on a regular basis. Dad was a bald, chubby dude with a nicely trimmed mustache, and he'd be walking behind three kids, lined up like ducklings. At the front of the line was Mom. Mom was obviously born with some severe birth defects as her legs and arms had not fully developed, and, thusly, she was confined to a motorized wheel-chair.
Upon seeing the family, I remember thinking: That lady probably grew up thinking she may never meet someone who would see her for who she was. She may have cried herself to sleep after her own mother, hoping to be helpful, told her that nobody would ever want to really get to know her. You know, like in a Sir-Mix-A-Lot-XXX-Throwdown sense. But, somehow, these two crazy kids had found each other and raised a brood of miserable little hellspawn who would knock all the merchandise off the shelves.
The point is: Sure, you probably know it's a lot of self-loathing on Valentine's Day which has kept you from getting around to asking out that lady at the coffee shop or that guy who puts luggage in the bottom of the plane. But nobody is going to do that for you. Except for me. If you ask, I'm happy to do it. Or even if you don't. Really, it's best I never know if you're interested in someone as I'll just make you miserable until you get a date or they shoot you down. That's just how I roll.
But as we enter February, and I see the cards at Target and I reflect upon this completely made up day of romance... it's mostly the energy spent on the lonely-guy/gal nattering that drives The League insane. Nobody is persecuting you. Nobody but geeky teenagers is really enjoying Valentine's Day. Many of us are dreading spending this much money when we just paid off the Visa from Christmas. And nobody is stopping you from asking anyone out. Cowboy up.
And if they do turn you down, have a choice B and choice C lined up.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Multiple Things (Updated)
RIP Molly Ivins
Your voice will be sorely missed in the Lone Star State.
Boston Powerless before scourge of the Mooninites
It seems that electronic ads featuring the Mooninites were mistaken for bombs or something.
CNN story here.
Hilarity here.
can you see this? because I'm doing it as hard as I can
Thanks to an erratic schedule and my love of anthropomorphic food, I'm more than a little familiar with Aqua Teen Hunger Force. So, perhaps the APD would do well to keep me on staff for just such an Aqua Teen-related emergency, or emergencies related to Space Ghost or Sea Lab 2021.
And now, an example of someone taking out their personal embarassment as rage:
Curiously, not a single stoner, geek or insomniac felt threatened. Go figure.
Luckily, I am sure everyone will maintain a level head about this.
oh, wait... They've actually arrested someone in relation to the rogue electronic signs.
I am unclear WHY the Boston police thought the Mooninites were a threat (well, I am sure the Mooninites would like to believe they are a threat). These are pretty clearly signs. I do not stop and believe every metal box I see is a bomb, but I also have not been through terror-response training.
I am sure there's a lesson here that probably could be summed up with the fact that our nation has a color-coded terror threat scale.
It's good to know that we're all now one poorly placed sign away from being charged with terrorism.
And for those of you still living in a world where you do not know what a Mooninite is:
Action Comics Annual #10
I wasn't all that excited about DC's fill-in for February's Action Comics miss (this is after no new Action Comics in January OR February). But DC wisely put out a preview for the Annual, and it looks pretty cool.
It should be a good one for your pull list. The format of the comic follows the format of traditional "giant" Superman annuals and issues from years past, with all the different stories highlighted on the cover. (Also used in "Superman Family").
Comic Fodder
Apparently I was one of many who got bent out of shape about DC editor Eddie Berganza's DC Nation column last week.
Still, it got me some much needed traffic on Comic Fodder.
Since then I've done two days worth of DC reviews and a post on when weekly comics go wrong.
I don't think Jamie actually ever reads what I write on Comic Fodder. I saw her reading it, like, a week ago. But I think that's the first time she'd ever checked it out. It's probably good that way. I take what everyone else says as constructive criticism, but when Jamie offers me anything, I feel like I totally screwed up. I don't know what the difference is.
And it's also been a reminder that the interweb is a public place. Some guy out there refered to me as a "goon", even after agreeing with me. Apparently my prose style can use some work.
Mom and Dad, i heart you
Apparently my parents are concerned that I no longer call as often as I once did. A few factors:
1) I no longer have a 45 minute commute. I'm unemployed. I don't have a period in my day when I know I will be on the road listening to you or "Marketplace" on NPR. When I am on teh road, it's no longer a completely straight line as it was in AZ. Plus, driving and talking = dangerous.
2) I am actually busier here than in Arizona. I no longer spend Friday, Saturday and Sunday watching VH1's celeb-reality proigramming, hoping someone will call to break up the boredom. I now DVR the celeb-reality programming and watch it while you're at work.
3) You people are never home. Did you know that?
4) I am unemployed. I have very little to discuss aside from what Jason has usually already told you about. He was there for most of it.
So if I'm not on the phone all the time, I'm sorry. If I'm not here when you call, I may actually have left the house, unlike AZ.
It does not mean your younger son does not think the world of you.
Your voice will be sorely missed in the Lone Star State.
Boston Powerless before scourge of the Mooninites
It seems that electronic ads featuring the Mooninites were mistaken for bombs or something.
CNN story here.
Hilarity here.
can you see this? because I'm doing it as hard as I can
The devices displayed one of the "Mooninites," outer-space delinquents who make frequent appearances on the cartoon, greeting passersby with a raised middle finger. Nine were reported around Boston on Wednesday, sending police bomb squads scrambling and snarling traffic and mass transit in one of the largest U.S. cities.
Boston police spokeswoman Elaine Driscoll called Wednesday's incidents "a colossal waste of money." She had no immediate comment on whether any laws were broken but said police would investigate further.
Thanks to an erratic schedule and my love of anthropomorphic food, I'm more than a little familiar with Aqua Teen Hunger Force. So, perhaps the APD would do well to keep me on staff for just such an Aqua Teen-related emergency, or emergencies related to Space Ghost or Sea Lab 2021.
And now, an example of someone taking out their personal embarassment as rage:
Scaring an entire region, tying up the T and major roadways, and forcing first responders to spend 12 hours chasing down trinkets instead of terrorists is marketing run amok," Markey, a Democrat, said in a written statement. "It would be hard to dream up a more appalling publicity stunt.
Curiously, not a single stoner, geek or insomniac felt threatened. Go figure.
Luckily, I am sure everyone will maintain a level head about this.
oh, wait... They've actually arrested someone in relation to the rogue electronic signs.
I am unclear WHY the Boston police thought the Mooninites were a threat (well, I am sure the Mooninites would like to believe they are a threat). These are pretty clearly signs. I do not stop and believe every metal box I see is a bomb, but I also have not been through terror-response training.
I am sure there's a lesson here that probably could be summed up with the fact that our nation has a color-coded terror threat scale.
It's good to know that we're all now one poorly placed sign away from being charged with terrorism.
And for those of you still living in a world where you do not know what a Mooninite is:
Action Comics Annual #10
I wasn't all that excited about DC's fill-in for February's Action Comics miss (this is after no new Action Comics in January OR February). But DC wisely put out a preview for the Annual, and it looks pretty cool.
It should be a good one for your pull list. The format of the comic follows the format of traditional "giant" Superman annuals and issues from years past, with all the different stories highlighted on the cover. (Also used in "Superman Family").
Comic Fodder
Apparently I was one of many who got bent out of shape about DC editor Eddie Berganza's DC Nation column last week.
Still, it got me some much needed traffic on Comic Fodder.
Since then I've done two days worth of DC reviews and a post on when weekly comics go wrong.
I don't think Jamie actually ever reads what I write on Comic Fodder. I saw her reading it, like, a week ago. But I think that's the first time she'd ever checked it out. It's probably good that way. I take what everyone else says as constructive criticism, but when Jamie offers me anything, I feel like I totally screwed up. I don't know what the difference is.
And it's also been a reminder that the interweb is a public place. Some guy out there refered to me as a "goon", even after agreeing with me. Apparently my prose style can use some work.
Mom and Dad, i heart you
Apparently my parents are concerned that I no longer call as often as I once did. A few factors:
1) I no longer have a 45 minute commute. I'm unemployed. I don't have a period in my day when I know I will be on the road listening to you or "Marketplace" on NPR. When I am on teh road, it's no longer a completely straight line as it was in AZ. Plus, driving and talking = dangerous.
2) I am actually busier here than in Arizona. I no longer spend Friday, Saturday and Sunday watching VH1's celeb-reality proigramming, hoping someone will call to break up the boredom. I now DVR the celeb-reality programming and watch it while you're at work.
3) You people are never home. Did you know that?
4) I am unemployed. I have very little to discuss aside from what Jason has usually already told you about. He was there for most of it.
So if I'm not on the phone all the time, I'm sorry. If I'm not here when you call, I may actually have left the house, unlike AZ.
It does not mean your younger son does not think the world of you.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
No Post
Nothing happened today.
Lucy is driving me insane.
Update:
I have posted reviews to last week's comics at Comic Fodder.
Is Carolina lurking at my blog? Say hi. Send an e-mail. Call. Something. It's been a while.
The last two movies I watched were: Jesse James meets Frankenstein's Daughter, and The Punisher. Something has gone very wrong in my life.
I am sort of excited about Windows Vista. You know how you get excited about the new TV season because you sort of hope that THIS year they'll come up with something you can watch? Even though they usually don't? It's sort of like that. It's like birthdays when you reach middle school and you quit getting Transformers and start getting Knights of the Round Table shirts in weird colors you never would have picked out yourself. I guess I'm always up for anything new.
That said, I'm not buying anything with Vista on it for six months, minimum.
I have an underbite. Sometimes it bothers me. When I close my mouth, my top teeth touch my bottom teeth. I could probably get it fixed as my father-in-law has been known to straighten a tooth or three, but 99.5% of the time, I don't think about it. But I bet he stares at it, knowing exactly what he'd do to fix it. Well, I shall be the teeth that got away.
Lucy is now asleep.
Jason has gone into radio silence since Saturday. I need to fit him with a bell.
Mel is usually asleep. Sometimes he chases the ball. Down the stairs. Add the cat to the stairwell, and hilarity ensues.
Lucy is driving me insane.
Update:
I have posted reviews to last week's comics at Comic Fodder.
Is Carolina lurking at my blog? Say hi. Send an e-mail. Call. Something. It's been a while.
The last two movies I watched were: Jesse James meets Frankenstein's Daughter, and The Punisher. Something has gone very wrong in my life.
I am sort of excited about Windows Vista. You know how you get excited about the new TV season because you sort of hope that THIS year they'll come up with something you can watch? Even though they usually don't? It's sort of like that. It's like birthdays when you reach middle school and you quit getting Transformers and start getting Knights of the Round Table shirts in weird colors you never would have picked out yourself. I guess I'm always up for anything new.
That said, I'm not buying anything with Vista on it for six months, minimum.
I have an underbite. Sometimes it bothers me. When I close my mouth, my top teeth touch my bottom teeth. I could probably get it fixed as my father-in-law has been known to straighten a tooth or three, but 99.5% of the time, I don't think about it. But I bet he stares at it, knowing exactly what he'd do to fix it. Well, I shall be the teeth that got away.
Lucy is now asleep.
Jason has gone into radio silence since Saturday. I need to fit him with a bell.
Mel is usually asleep. Sometimes he chases the ball. Down the stairs. Add the cat to the stairwell, and hilarity ensues.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Billy Bush is a PodPerson
We've had a lovely weekend at League HQ.
Friday night I headed over to Pat's for HD Movie night. Of course, Pat lured me over with an HD copy of "Superman II: the Richard Donner Cut". We also watched a few minutes of SuperPup (provided by yours truly), a few Superman cartoons, and a couple of HD programs. "Three Sheets" is a travel show following a lush as he goes from lovely vacation spot to lovely vacation spot sampling local booze. The guy is clearly in need of an intervention, but that doesn't mean the show isn't a lot of fun. It also reminded me I haven't been to the beach since November '01. Damn. They also have a show which is just swimsuit models on the beach.
This sort of shortcuts a business plan my former co-worker, Tom, once pitched to me: The Beach Channel. 24 cameras pointing at beaches, one in each time zone, and we rotate beaches once an hour. Sure, it's more of a screen saver than a show, but we'd also license steel drum music or something to make it work.
Saturday we had brunch with Jason at Maudie's, then re-grouped at his place with the dogs. The Austin weather was perfect. Sunny, breezy, and cool, and I wanted to do something outside. I had throwing a frisbee around in mind, but Jason reminded me that there was a march going on downtown, so we got all political and went and did that.
Then we wrapped up the night at Mandy's with Jason, Greg Johnson, a smoking chiminea and some decent beer.
When I got home, I finished my week-ending column for Comic Fodder, then went to bed.
Today was very pretty out, but a LOT colder. We've mostly been running errands, cleaning up a little and hanging out today. I did some maintenance work for Comic Fodder as per JimD's wise suggestion (no, I am not done), and tonight I need to do at least 1/2 of my DC Comic Reviews.
So I sat through 2 hours of "Grease: You're the One That I Want", NBC's Broadway-themed American Idol rip-off. It's hosted by TV gadfly Billy Bush, who I once tee'd off on in these very pages.
I finally figured out what creeps me out about Billy Bush (aside from the fact that he is, in fact, a member of the Presidential Bush family, and does, in fact, look a tad like Bush POTUS 43). What creeps me out is that all Billy does for a living is read from a teleprompter. And not particularly well.
Ryan Seacrest may be a parasite, but he's a highly successful, lamprey-like parasite. I've had occasion to see American Idol dozens of times, and I can give him credit where credit is due. Seacrest at least seems comfortable improvising and talking to the contestants.
Every single word from Bush's mouth is coming from the teleprompter, to his eyes and then out of his mouth in a bizarre, snappy patter that bears no resemblance to actual human speech patterns. It's almost as if Bush doesn't actually understand the words he's saying, or ever consciously process those words. He's a human vo-coder that merely blurts out sounds based upon some barely sophisticated programming.
it walks among us
And that may well be the truth. Take the vo-coder, add a head of LA-wet-moosed-windblow hair, blank/dead eyes and a zombified grin, and there's no real evidence to prove that Billy Bush ISN'T an alien being walking in our midst. A star-struck, semi-coherent alien with a lot of skin creme at his disposal.
I have decided, while watching this show, that I have a pitch Maxwell and I need to put together for a "reality" show. Our show would have to be on Bravo or A&E, and it would follow the process of bringing a show (TV, movie, Broadway, whatever) together, but not in a game show format. I think people would be interested in a documentary about the whole process.
Only our show would also have sharks.
Friday night I headed over to Pat's for HD Movie night. Of course, Pat lured me over with an HD copy of "Superman II: the Richard Donner Cut". We also watched a few minutes of SuperPup (provided by yours truly), a few Superman cartoons, and a couple of HD programs. "Three Sheets" is a travel show following a lush as he goes from lovely vacation spot to lovely vacation spot sampling local booze. The guy is clearly in need of an intervention, but that doesn't mean the show isn't a lot of fun. It also reminded me I haven't been to the beach since November '01. Damn. They also have a show which is just swimsuit models on the beach.
This sort of shortcuts a business plan my former co-worker, Tom, once pitched to me: The Beach Channel. 24 cameras pointing at beaches, one in each time zone, and we rotate beaches once an hour. Sure, it's more of a screen saver than a show, but we'd also license steel drum music or something to make it work.
Saturday we had brunch with Jason at Maudie's, then re-grouped at his place with the dogs. The Austin weather was perfect. Sunny, breezy, and cool, and I wanted to do something outside. I had throwing a frisbee around in mind, but Jason reminded me that there was a march going on downtown, so we got all political and went and did that.
Then we wrapped up the night at Mandy's with Jason, Greg Johnson, a smoking chiminea and some decent beer.
When I got home, I finished my week-ending column for Comic Fodder, then went to bed.
Today was very pretty out, but a LOT colder. We've mostly been running errands, cleaning up a little and hanging out today. I did some maintenance work for Comic Fodder as per JimD's wise suggestion (no, I am not done), and tonight I need to do at least 1/2 of my DC Comic Reviews.
So I sat through 2 hours of "Grease: You're the One That I Want", NBC's Broadway-themed American Idol rip-off. It's hosted by TV gadfly Billy Bush, who I once tee'd off on in these very pages.
I finally figured out what creeps me out about Billy Bush (aside from the fact that he is, in fact, a member of the Presidential Bush family, and does, in fact, look a tad like Bush POTUS 43). What creeps me out is that all Billy does for a living is read from a teleprompter. And not particularly well.
Ryan Seacrest may be a parasite, but he's a highly successful, lamprey-like parasite. I've had occasion to see American Idol dozens of times, and I can give him credit where credit is due. Seacrest at least seems comfortable improvising and talking to the contestants.
Every single word from Bush's mouth is coming from the teleprompter, to his eyes and then out of his mouth in a bizarre, snappy patter that bears no resemblance to actual human speech patterns. It's almost as if Bush doesn't actually understand the words he's saying, or ever consciously process those words. He's a human vo-coder that merely blurts out sounds based upon some barely sophisticated programming.
it walks among us
And that may well be the truth. Take the vo-coder, add a head of LA-wet-moosed-windblow hair, blank/dead eyes and a zombified grin, and there's no real evidence to prove that Billy Bush ISN'T an alien being walking in our midst. A star-struck, semi-coherent alien with a lot of skin creme at his disposal.
I have decided, while watching this show, that I have a pitch Maxwell and I need to put together for a "reality" show. Our show would have to be on Bravo or A&E, and it would follow the process of bringing a show (TV, movie, Broadway, whatever) together, but not in a game show format. I think people would be interested in a documentary about the whole process.
Only our show would also have sharks.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Netflix Pals
This is how I got to 2000 posts.
If anyone wants to be my NetFlix Pal, click here.
I tried to set up my friend account with Maxwell, and it doesn't look like it worked, so please try it here.
I have no idea how this would benefit you.
If anyone wants to be my NetFlix Pal, click here.
I tried to set up my friend account with Maxwell, and it doesn't look like it worked, so please try it here.
I have no idea how this would benefit you.
Schrodinger's Bath
Oh, sweet Christmas...
You kind of have to have a mean streak to enjoy this, so this should be perfect for a lot of you.
Automated Cat Bath.
Thanks to Jamie for the link.
You kind of have to have a mean streak to enjoy this, so this should be perfect for a lot of you.
Automated Cat Bath.
Thanks to Jamie for the link.
Titles are hard
Huh
Apparently, there used to be Love Boat action figures.
I have a new life quest. I will own an Isaac action figure. Oh, yes. I will.
Blogging
So I had dinner with Pat, Jeff and Keora this evening.
1) Polvo's is good, but it's kind of weird that it's still such a huge hipster hang-out. If it's about being seen, who wants to be seen cramming their face with moderately priced enchiladas? La Reyna, half a black down was kind of empty, as was El Mercado, another block down. Sure, those places aren't quite as good (especially after I discovered the Burrito Gigante [translation: Giant Burrito]), but they also has inside seating.
I will never understand this city and it's celebration of seemingly random restaurants. This includes the Olive Garden on S. Lamar.
2) Pat is against blogging. Or at least he thinks it's pretty silly. I can support that. Heck, half the time I have no idea what I'm going to say when I start writing, and suddenly I'm two pages into some inane monologue about how I hung shelves in the garage.
The whole blogging thing is NOT something you can explain to someone, or convince them is a good idea, if they're already pretty much convinced you shouldn't be doing it, anyway. Like scrapbooking. Or brushing your teeth.
Pat sort of kidded about starting his own blog, which, he said he would fill with "all my interests that nobody I know cares about". But when pushed, he eluded the question. All the more mysterious.
He did ask me discuss here either the cover-up of surrounding the death of 60+ birds on Congress Avenue a week or so ago. Now they're saying it was cold weather and parasites, but, I am told, I am to begin to say this is obviously NOT true, and there's something sinister at work.
or else I am supposed to speak in praise of "The Day After Tomorrow".
I forget.
Shoemaker, here's that blog I mentioned: Lady, That's My Skull
Shelves
So I've long had a theory that when I finally finish with the garage, which I've never really unpacked, I would get a job within a week. This has gone from a lingering suspicion to a bit of fatalistic thinking I've decided to take the lead on.
I've delayed and delayed putting the garage together, mostly because the garage is cold. And lonely. And there are spiders.
Yesterday I finally went to Lowe's and bought my melanite shelves, brackets and other assorted doo-dads. Now, an oddity of our garage is that it's exactly big enough to accomodate two cars, but not a lot of space for other stuff, such as lawnmowers. In fact, most of my neighbors have at least one car in the drive-way to accomodate their junk.
The icy weather last week reminded me that if we're hit with ice again, and I DO have to go to work or whatever, I'm going to go out in the rain or ice to get to my car. SO... Luckily our garage is really tall inside (our house sits on an incline). So I'm putting all the shelves up really high.
Not a lot of quick access with stuff sitting that high up, so items finding a home up there include things like Christmas Trees, etc... that we can afford to forget about most of the time.
I am very proud of how handy I've been today. But I also have a long way to go (maybe another two days in the garage) before I'm done.
Then, voila, I should have a job waiting for me next week.
Except that I still haven't finished organizing our books upstairs. That could be a project...
Apparently, there used to be Love Boat action figures.
I have a new life quest. I will own an Isaac action figure. Oh, yes. I will.
Blogging
So I had dinner with Pat, Jeff and Keora this evening.
1) Polvo's is good, but it's kind of weird that it's still such a huge hipster hang-out. If it's about being seen, who wants to be seen cramming their face with moderately priced enchiladas? La Reyna, half a black down was kind of empty, as was El Mercado, another block down. Sure, those places aren't quite as good (especially after I discovered the Burrito Gigante [translation: Giant Burrito]), but they also has inside seating.
I will never understand this city and it's celebration of seemingly random restaurants. This includes the Olive Garden on S. Lamar.
2) Pat is against blogging. Or at least he thinks it's pretty silly. I can support that. Heck, half the time I have no idea what I'm going to say when I start writing, and suddenly I'm two pages into some inane monologue about how I hung shelves in the garage.
The whole blogging thing is NOT something you can explain to someone, or convince them is a good idea, if they're already pretty much convinced you shouldn't be doing it, anyway. Like scrapbooking. Or brushing your teeth.
Pat sort of kidded about starting his own blog, which, he said he would fill with "all my interests that nobody I know cares about". But when pushed, he eluded the question. All the more mysterious.
He did ask me discuss here either the cover-up of surrounding the death of 60+ birds on Congress Avenue a week or so ago. Now they're saying it was cold weather and parasites, but, I am told, I am to begin to say this is obviously NOT true, and there's something sinister at work.
or else I am supposed to speak in praise of "The Day After Tomorrow".
I forget.
Shoemaker, here's that blog I mentioned: Lady, That's My Skull
Shelves
So I've long had a theory that when I finally finish with the garage, which I've never really unpacked, I would get a job within a week. This has gone from a lingering suspicion to a bit of fatalistic thinking I've decided to take the lead on.
I've delayed and delayed putting the garage together, mostly because the garage is cold. And lonely. And there are spiders.
Yesterday I finally went to Lowe's and bought my melanite shelves, brackets and other assorted doo-dads. Now, an oddity of our garage is that it's exactly big enough to accomodate two cars, but not a lot of space for other stuff, such as lawnmowers. In fact, most of my neighbors have at least one car in the drive-way to accomodate their junk.
The icy weather last week reminded me that if we're hit with ice again, and I DO have to go to work or whatever, I'm going to go out in the rain or ice to get to my car. SO... Luckily our garage is really tall inside (our house sits on an incline). So I'm putting all the shelves up really high.
Not a lot of quick access with stuff sitting that high up, so items finding a home up there include things like Christmas Trees, etc... that we can afford to forget about most of the time.
I am very proud of how handy I've been today. But I also have a long way to go (maybe another two days in the garage) before I'm done.
Then, voila, I should have a job waiting for me next week.
Except that I still haven't finished organizing our books upstairs. That could be a project...
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
2004th Post
Hey, Leaguers!
Hope everyone is doing well.
Things are slow on the home front. Jamie's off one of her meds, and it's got her feeling a bit lowly until her body gets used to not having that particular med (withdrawal isn't as much fun as they made it look in "Trainspotting"). So we've mostly been sticking to the house and trying not to think too much about what kind of lousy weather we've been stuck with.
Really, I'm enjoying the rain and cold. After all, PHX has many things, but weather is not one of them. It's mostly the dogs who are making me feel bad. Poor doggies have been stuck inside for days.
Books
I finally finished "In Cold Blood", a book I started some time ago. I know this because I have one of Jamie's business cards which reads "Human Code" as a place holder. I loved the book, but found it relentlessly depressing, so I would put it down for years at a time, and then have to start over. That, and I always read books in bits and spurts, and I started this one again right after we moved here, so... yeah.
Next up is "The March" which I received for Christmas. I also have "The Time Traveller's Wife" which JimD, Steven and Lauren all recommended to me, although Lauren said "It's a little pulpier than I thought it would be." Luckily, The League lives for pulp, so let's hope Lauren's reveal rings true.
Also, I'm reading a metric ton of comics. I just wish the Superman books were back on schedule.
THANK YOU'S
I wanted to say thanks to all Leaguers. I enjoyed writing my 2000th post hoo-hah, but it was quite nice to get so many comments.
Hopefully we'll still be doing this in a few years, and we'll see where we are on posts at that time.
NetFlix
I'm back in.
Leaguer OH e-mailed me to ask my opinion of NetFlix, and it got me thinking about their service.
We'll see what happens this time, but a few things contributed to my decision
1- Talking in movies. There's less distracting talking at my house.
2- At $14.99 a month, rather than $16 for two people to hit the theater, I'm practically making money
3- My post office box is much closer here than in PHX, making the whole movie-by-mail thing less daunting.
4- I am now willing to manage my NetFlix queue to balance the "quality" movies with the very stupid. My first two movies? "The Grapes of Wrath" and "Manos: The Hands of Fate"
5- I no longer have forty movie channels. In Phoenix, we would subscribe to whole packages of movie channels. Couple that with the DVR, and I never really felt like I was at a loss for a movie to watch.
6- I do like movies. I have a degree to prove it.
Hope everyone is doing well.
Things are slow on the home front. Jamie's off one of her meds, and it's got her feeling a bit lowly until her body gets used to not having that particular med (withdrawal isn't as much fun as they made it look in "Trainspotting"). So we've mostly been sticking to the house and trying not to think too much about what kind of lousy weather we've been stuck with.
Really, I'm enjoying the rain and cold. After all, PHX has many things, but weather is not one of them. It's mostly the dogs who are making me feel bad. Poor doggies have been stuck inside for days.
Books
I finally finished "In Cold Blood", a book I started some time ago. I know this because I have one of Jamie's business cards which reads "Human Code" as a place holder. I loved the book, but found it relentlessly depressing, so I would put it down for years at a time, and then have to start over. That, and I always read books in bits and spurts, and I started this one again right after we moved here, so... yeah.
Next up is "The March" which I received for Christmas. I also have "The Time Traveller's Wife" which JimD, Steven and Lauren all recommended to me, although Lauren said "It's a little pulpier than I thought it would be." Luckily, The League lives for pulp, so let's hope Lauren's reveal rings true.
Also, I'm reading a metric ton of comics. I just wish the Superman books were back on schedule.
THANK YOU'S
I wanted to say thanks to all Leaguers. I enjoyed writing my 2000th post hoo-hah, but it was quite nice to get so many comments.
Hopefully we'll still be doing this in a few years, and we'll see where we are on posts at that time.
NetFlix
I'm back in.
Leaguer OH e-mailed me to ask my opinion of NetFlix, and it got me thinking about their service.
We'll see what happens this time, but a few things contributed to my decision
1- Talking in movies. There's less distracting talking at my house.
2- At $14.99 a month, rather than $16 for two people to hit the theater, I'm practically making money
3- My post office box is much closer here than in PHX, making the whole movie-by-mail thing less daunting.
4- I am now willing to manage my NetFlix queue to balance the "quality" movies with the very stupid. My first two movies? "The Grapes of Wrath" and "Manos: The Hands of Fate"
5- I no longer have forty movie channels. In Phoenix, we would subscribe to whole packages of movie channels. Couple that with the DVR, and I never really felt like I was at a loss for a movie to watch.
6- I do like movies. I have a degree to prove it.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Other Pictures
Ah, extra pictures. These are some extra pictures left over from the past several weeks.
The Bros. Steans enjoy some quality time during the Holidays.
Our loverly Christmas lights
Jamie enjoys our Christmas lights.
I pose with Dave the Somewhat Animated Christmas Deer.
Cousin John, his wife Julie, Mandy, Ellie Gamble
Elf Rami
Mandy, Ellie Gamble, Feral Andy
Mel.
Lucy in her lovely Christmas collar.
The Bros. Steans enjoy some quality time during the Holidays.
Our loverly Christmas lights
Jamie enjoys our Christmas lights.
I pose with Dave the Somewhat Animated Christmas Deer.
Cousin John, his wife Julie, Mandy, Ellie Gamble
Elf Rami
Mandy, Ellie Gamble, Feral Andy
Mel.
Lucy in her lovely Christmas collar.
Ice Day Flashback
Last week we were hit with some ice. Believing the gods were angry with us, The League was terrified. We cowered inside our home, and emerged to take only a few photos.
Mel zips around the front yard, enjoying the ice crunching uder his feet.
Icicles hung from the front of the house. I don't remember ever getting icicles like this before in Austin. The window on the left is the window to the Fortress.
Icilces in the backyard hanging from the porch. I kept one of these. It's in the freezer.
Ahhh... the firepit. The firepit filled with rain. And then the rain froze. And now it's melted, and it's gross, but the yard is all muddy, so I haven't cleaned it out. You can see icicles beneath the firepit.
Ah, the front yard. Yes, the front steps did ice up and become a deathtrap. As did the sidewalks.
Mel zips around the front yard, enjoying the ice crunching uder his feet.
Icicles hung from the front of the house. I don't remember ever getting icicles like this before in Austin. The window on the left is the window to the Fortress.
Icilces in the backyard hanging from the porch. I kept one of these. It's in the freezer.
Ahhh... the firepit. The firepit filled with rain. And then the rain froze. And now it's melted, and it's gross, but the yard is all muddy, so I haven't cleaned it out. You can see icicles beneath the firepit.
Ah, the front yard. Yes, the front steps did ice up and become a deathtrap. As did the sidewalks.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
2000th Post!!!
Son of a gun. 2000 posts. That's what Blogger is telling me.
I'm not sure if this includes the "draft" posts I never bothered to post nor delete. It also doesn't include the first week of posts Jim D. had to salvage when I committed blogocide early on, then JimD convinced me to have a change of heart. But, according to Blogger, this is big 2000.
Great googildy moogildy.
When I think of the time I've spent working on this blog, I realize I could have obtained a masters degree, written several novels, or dug a tunnel between here and Guadalajara. It's kind of pathetic. Instead, I've spent countless hours navel gazing, performing haphazard self examination and generally wasting everyone's time. I'm glad to see so many of you who've chosen to stick with me every miserable step of the way. After all, I already know what I think, so you keep coming back, I suppose to see what nonse will appear here as part of my permanent record.
League of Melbotis has been instrumental in my ability to locate old friends, make new friends, and keep up friendships in ways I never would have predicted. We've been linked to from USA Today, have made appearances in some odd blogs, and can proudly state that we've become the number one destination for folks looking for pictures of "supergirl + naked" using Google. I am so proud.
We've traced my dissatisfaction with Chandler, Arizona straight through to my final, crucial decision to skip town and return to my beloved Austin in my beloved Texas. I'm not sure that move would have happened as soon as it did, in the way that it did, had I not had LoM as a communication tool between myself and some other parties. Nor do I think my leap would have made as much sense to friends and family had I not chronicled my dissatisfaction with such excrutiating detail.
The assembled Justice League of America looks back on 2000 posts
It's my hope I've been able to somehow pique your interest in the sequential art form known as "comics" with my unending diatribes which I shall qualify as my "enthusiasm" for the subject. Comics were always my bag, but with very few entertainment options and fewer social outlets with my arrival in PHX, comics became a great source of distraction and amusement for me during some pretty tough times over the past few years. It's been my hope that you guys might hit your local comic shop once in a while to see what's available, and maybe find something you can enjoy.
I've spent no small amount of time dwelling upon all things Superman, and will continue to do so. It's my hope that I've dragged you kicking and screaming from seeing Superman as a silly man ina cape to a pop-culture icon and symbol for modern mythology. I also hope I conned you into seeing this summer's "Superman Returns".
Some of this enthusiasm you've shared with me, some less. I've taken my desire to blog upon comics and tried to do something with it. I hope you're either checking out Comic Fodder or breathing a sigh of relief that every third post isn't about the genius of Justice Society of America. Without years of practice here, I sincerely doubt I would have made the decision to throw my hat in the ring and give such an effort a try.
We've dwelt upon all things pet-related. I confess, the blog was much heavier in pet-related posts in the first year. Honestly, the pets sort of have their patterns, and I'm not sure how much of their daily activity to cover which won't start to make me the "crazy dog guy".
In the past few years I've also become much more interested in sports, so I appreciate everyone humoring me as I waxed rhapsodic upon the 2005 Lonhorns, the Phoenix Suns, the lowly Diamondbacks, and my occasional bursts of enthusiasm for various NFL teams. Sports is the great equalizer.
And League of Melbotis has given me my rooftop from which I get to regularly proclaim that I am, indeed, a lucky guy. Not too many people get to meet someone who can be their high-fiving best friend and get to marry them. Nor do I know of anyone else who is married who has a spouse as patient, understanding and as much fun as Jamie (sorry, rest of the world. It's true.). And she's given up a lot of quiet hours while I've sat and click-clacked on a laptop, in order to post as regularly as possible. So thanks, Leaguers, for letting me try to get you to know Jamie, just a little.
It seems like just yesterday I was telling JimD I didn't think I had enough to say to sustain a blog. And I was right, but that hasn't stopped me.
There are no plans for League of Melbotis to disappear anytime soon. I know I occasionally whine about a lack of readership, or that I feel as if I'm whistling into the wind here, but by-and-large, this has been a phenomenal experience for me, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Thanks to all of you for making 2000 posts not just possible, but something I wanted to do.
We'll see you at 3000.
The entire Superman Family wishes you a happy 2000th post
I'm not sure if this includes the "draft" posts I never bothered to post nor delete. It also doesn't include the first week of posts Jim D. had to salvage when I committed blogocide early on, then JimD convinced me to have a change of heart. But, according to Blogger, this is big 2000.
Great googildy moogildy.
When I think of the time I've spent working on this blog, I realize I could have obtained a masters degree, written several novels, or dug a tunnel between here and Guadalajara. It's kind of pathetic. Instead, I've spent countless hours navel gazing, performing haphazard self examination and generally wasting everyone's time. I'm glad to see so many of you who've chosen to stick with me every miserable step of the way. After all, I already know what I think, so you keep coming back, I suppose to see what nonse will appear here as part of my permanent record.
League of Melbotis has been instrumental in my ability to locate old friends, make new friends, and keep up friendships in ways I never would have predicted. We've been linked to from USA Today, have made appearances in some odd blogs, and can proudly state that we've become the number one destination for folks looking for pictures of "supergirl + naked" using Google. I am so proud.
We've traced my dissatisfaction with Chandler, Arizona straight through to my final, crucial decision to skip town and return to my beloved Austin in my beloved Texas. I'm not sure that move would have happened as soon as it did, in the way that it did, had I not had LoM as a communication tool between myself and some other parties. Nor do I think my leap would have made as much sense to friends and family had I not chronicled my dissatisfaction with such excrutiating detail.
The assembled Justice League of America looks back on 2000 posts
It's my hope I've been able to somehow pique your interest in the sequential art form known as "comics" with my unending diatribes which I shall qualify as my "enthusiasm" for the subject. Comics were always my bag, but with very few entertainment options and fewer social outlets with my arrival in PHX, comics became a great source of distraction and amusement for me during some pretty tough times over the past few years. It's been my hope that you guys might hit your local comic shop once in a while to see what's available, and maybe find something you can enjoy.
I've spent no small amount of time dwelling upon all things Superman, and will continue to do so. It's my hope that I've dragged you kicking and screaming from seeing Superman as a silly man ina cape to a pop-culture icon and symbol for modern mythology. I also hope I conned you into seeing this summer's "Superman Returns".
Some of this enthusiasm you've shared with me, some less. I've taken my desire to blog upon comics and tried to do something with it. I hope you're either checking out Comic Fodder or breathing a sigh of relief that every third post isn't about the genius of Justice Society of America. Without years of practice here, I sincerely doubt I would have made the decision to throw my hat in the ring and give such an effort a try.
We've dwelt upon all things pet-related. I confess, the blog was much heavier in pet-related posts in the first year. Honestly, the pets sort of have their patterns, and I'm not sure how much of their daily activity to cover which won't start to make me the "crazy dog guy".
In the past few years I've also become much more interested in sports, so I appreciate everyone humoring me as I waxed rhapsodic upon the 2005 Lonhorns, the Phoenix Suns, the lowly Diamondbacks, and my occasional bursts of enthusiasm for various NFL teams. Sports is the great equalizer.
And League of Melbotis has given me my rooftop from which I get to regularly proclaim that I am, indeed, a lucky guy. Not too many people get to meet someone who can be their high-fiving best friend and get to marry them. Nor do I know of anyone else who is married who has a spouse as patient, understanding and as much fun as Jamie (sorry, rest of the world. It's true.). And she's given up a lot of quiet hours while I've sat and click-clacked on a laptop, in order to post as regularly as possible. So thanks, Leaguers, for letting me try to get you to know Jamie, just a little.
It seems like just yesterday I was telling JimD I didn't think I had enough to say to sustain a blog. And I was right, but that hasn't stopped me.
There are no plans for League of Melbotis to disappear anytime soon. I know I occasionally whine about a lack of readership, or that I feel as if I'm whistling into the wind here, but by-and-large, this has been a phenomenal experience for me, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Thanks to all of you for making 2000 posts not just possible, but something I wanted to do.
We'll see you at 3000.
The entire Superman Family wishes you a happy 2000th post
Post for Monday Morning
SHAME
Leaguers, only a small fraction of you bothered to wish Reed a happy birthday. I am ashamed of you.
Reed has been a vital part of this blog for many years, and all you had to do was post a birthday message. But, apparently, you're too busy. Apparently, you're too good for Reed. I had no idea this was the sort of snobbish audience the League had grown to cater to.
I shame myself and I shame the good name of The League if I can't get you to post a "Happy Birthday" message to Reed.
SUN
We finally got some sun today. It's been cold and wet since last week sometime, so a little break in the weather was a welcome change. We didn't manage to take as much advantage of the weather as I would have liked, and I didn't make it home until after dark, so I didn't go running, which I'm feeling sort of badly about.
We've got another wintery blast scheduled to come through (cold, but not a freeze), and then we should have sunshine again on Thursday. So, right now, I'm holding out for Thursday.
PLAY-OFFS
We're not even done with the 1st quarter of the NE/IND game as I watch this, but I did see the end of the Bears/Saints game. I suppose I must now make Superbowl plans. No matter what, I suppose I shall cheer for the team that is NOT the Bears, unless I am given a compelling reason why the Bears should curry my favor.
I've been fairly dispassionate about pro-Football this year, and have already snuck over and watched a few NBA games (although I am reminded that the NBA coverage in Austin is abysmal in comparison to what we had in Arizona. My kingdom for an NBA Season Pass on Time Warner Cable).
Peabo was right about one thing in life, and that's about the inherent superiority of College Football over Pro Ball. I cannot get onboard with the anti-NBA plank of his platform, although I understand his argument.
***UPDATE***
Holy SMOKES, man!!! Was that ever a game! Holy cow!!! COLTS are AFC CHAMPS!!! Whoooo!!!!
(sorry, we like Peyton Manning at League HQ and have been waiting for him to have his shot at a ring for a while.)
GHOSTRIDER
I've never been a huge fan of the Ghost Rider comics. I sort of think the idea begins and ends with character design, and you can get more out of an 80's-era Iron Maiden poster than you can out of the average Ghost Rider comic. GR's not actually terribly scary or anything, so I'm not really clear on the point of the guy. I actually think he would be handled better as a DCU Phantom Stranger/Spectre-type character, but that's just me.
Now it's a movie. So far, the most interesting thing in the trailers has been Eva Mendes. And my deep love for paying to see very bad movies.
Who am I kidding? I'm going to see this movie. I sort of wish I could figure out a way to see it with Randy, because I bet Randy is going to love this flick. Somehow the idea of dragging Harms to such quality, low-brow entertainment is equally appealing.
Norbit
Is this movie just about making fun of fat girls? Am I really supposed to pay money to see that?
Eddie Murphy.... You used to be beautiful, man.
John Wayne
So the other day I watched all of "The Sons of Katie Elder", which I had never seen before. Darn good Western, and one could clearly see where they'd lifted some moments for Silverado. I did not know this, but 2005's "Four Brothers" was a sort of homage to "The Sons of Katie Elder". Only, with Marky Mark instead of John Wayne.
Last night, after watching "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid", I watched a good chunk of "The Undefeated". I've got "Rio Grande" in my DVR queue. Either I, or TCM or AMC am on a John Wayne kick. Given the amount of John Wayne on TV everyday, I am inclined to think it's me.
Sure, me and Mr. Wayne might not have agreed on too much had we ever met each other, but I love a good John Wayne movie. I think, partially, because I respect Wayne's ability to make any nonsense that comes out of his mouth sound like God's own truth. And he's not above having a good laugh at other people getting slugged in the head in many of his films.
Oddly, I've not seen too many of John Wayne's non-Westerns, such as "The Green Berets", "Donovan's Reef", or "The Flying Leathernecks". Luckily, I have DVR and basic cable, so it's just a matter of time.
Hope everyone had a good weekend.
Make sure you wish Reed a happy birthday.
Leaguers, only a small fraction of you bothered to wish Reed a happy birthday. I am ashamed of you.
Reed has been a vital part of this blog for many years, and all you had to do was post a birthday message. But, apparently, you're too busy. Apparently, you're too good for Reed. I had no idea this was the sort of snobbish audience the League had grown to cater to.
I shame myself and I shame the good name of The League if I can't get you to post a "Happy Birthday" message to Reed.
SUN
We finally got some sun today. It's been cold and wet since last week sometime, so a little break in the weather was a welcome change. We didn't manage to take as much advantage of the weather as I would have liked, and I didn't make it home until after dark, so I didn't go running, which I'm feeling sort of badly about.
We've got another wintery blast scheduled to come through (cold, but not a freeze), and then we should have sunshine again on Thursday. So, right now, I'm holding out for Thursday.
PLAY-OFFS
We're not even done with the 1st quarter of the NE/IND game as I watch this, but I did see the end of the Bears/Saints game. I suppose I must now make Superbowl plans. No matter what, I suppose I shall cheer for the team that is NOT the Bears, unless I am given a compelling reason why the Bears should curry my favor.
I've been fairly dispassionate about pro-Football this year, and have already snuck over and watched a few NBA games (although I am reminded that the NBA coverage in Austin is abysmal in comparison to what we had in Arizona. My kingdom for an NBA Season Pass on Time Warner Cable).
Peabo was right about one thing in life, and that's about the inherent superiority of College Football over Pro Ball. I cannot get onboard with the anti-NBA plank of his platform, although I understand his argument.
***UPDATE***
Holy SMOKES, man!!! Was that ever a game! Holy cow!!! COLTS are AFC CHAMPS!!! Whoooo!!!!
(sorry, we like Peyton Manning at League HQ and have been waiting for him to have his shot at a ring for a while.)
GHOSTRIDER
I've never been a huge fan of the Ghost Rider comics. I sort of think the idea begins and ends with character design, and you can get more out of an 80's-era Iron Maiden poster than you can out of the average Ghost Rider comic. GR's not actually terribly scary or anything, so I'm not really clear on the point of the guy. I actually think he would be handled better as a DCU Phantom Stranger/Spectre-type character, but that's just me.
Now it's a movie. So far, the most interesting thing in the trailers has been Eva Mendes. And my deep love for paying to see very bad movies.
Who am I kidding? I'm going to see this movie. I sort of wish I could figure out a way to see it with Randy, because I bet Randy is going to love this flick. Somehow the idea of dragging Harms to such quality, low-brow entertainment is equally appealing.
Norbit
Is this movie just about making fun of fat girls? Am I really supposed to pay money to see that?
Eddie Murphy.... You used to be beautiful, man.
John Wayne
So the other day I watched all of "The Sons of Katie Elder", which I had never seen before. Darn good Western, and one could clearly see where they'd lifted some moments for Silverado. I did not know this, but 2005's "Four Brothers" was a sort of homage to "The Sons of Katie Elder". Only, with Marky Mark instead of John Wayne.
Last night, after watching "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid", I watched a good chunk of "The Undefeated". I've got "Rio Grande" in my DVR queue. Either I, or TCM or AMC am on a John Wayne kick. Given the amount of John Wayne on TV everyday, I am inclined to think it's me.
Sure, me and Mr. Wayne might not have agreed on too much had we ever met each other, but I love a good John Wayne movie. I think, partially, because I respect Wayne's ability to make any nonsense that comes out of his mouth sound like God's own truth. And he's not above having a good laugh at other people getting slugged in the head in many of his films.
Oddly, I've not seen too many of John Wayne's non-Westerns, such as "The Green Berets", "Donovan's Reef", or "The Flying Leathernecks". Luckily, I have DVR and basic cable, so it's just a matter of time.
Hope everyone had a good weekend.
Make sure you wish Reed a happy birthday.
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