esrosedotblog

TOO MANY LITTLE WOMEN

We were actually going to watch the 1932 Cukor version of Little Women today but they sent us the wrong one.

Right wrapper; wrong video inside. It was the 1942 version with June Allison and Margaret Obrien.

Puuhlllease!

So I sent it back and we will have to wait to see the 1932 and the 1994 versions together.

Sorry.

I know it is a blow.

BIGGER SPLASH II

It is hot today so we took inspiration from the film we watched (see just below) and went out to the pool for awhile.

Incidentally, the water looks just like that.

And we had two naked boys in it as well. Us.

Franklin does not like us to go into the pool.

John went in first and he barked and carried on.

Then, when I went, he just resigned himself.

The pool makes no sense to him and is scary.

He will not go in.

He fell in twice when he was a puppy; in winter.

That was enough for a life time.

We are happy about his aversion. I have some friends whose dogs are in and out of the pool all day (and in the dirt and so on). It is not nice.

I wondered whether the whole Bigger Splash and other California paintings had anything to do with our decision to come here thirty years later.

I suppose that is too great a stretch.

But, nevertheless, it is nice to see the film and think of the paintings and then go out and just jump in.

NOSTALGIC

Today, another film that is not on the NYTimes Best list.

It just came out on DVD after 'disappearing' for many years.

A Bigger Splash (1974)

We saw this when it came out, or soon after.

It would be the year before John and I met. We both remember standing on-line at the old art cinema on Arlington Street. At different times. There is a café there now.

On line, because the film was a sensation. To be honest, I am sure that we were drawn by the fact that it was one of the first explicitly gay non-porno films made.

People are naked and play together and make love quite incidentally and un-self consciously. It is, in its way, satisfyingly pedestrian in this respect.

In addition, we were just beginning to understand that David Hockney was the next, lasting, new artist to appear in some time. It is interesting to see it now from the perspective of 30 years.

For example, we have seen many of the paintings in museums and reproduced over and over again.

The film is a semi-documentary/biopic which depicts the period right before Hockney moves to the US and, eventually, Southern California.

Hockney's lover Peter Schlesinger had left and he was blocked. He spent almost a year painting the now famous A Bigger Splash. We see the painting take form as the 'plot' unfolds.

What is amazing about this is that the 'cast' is made up of all the people who were involved with Hockney during this time including Schlesinger and others who were deeply affected by the move to the US.

It is interesting that no one has written about this film. It comes up virtually Google-less.

I did find the original review in the New York Times.

It was great seeing it again.

Every inch of the film is calculated and composed and yet it flows calmly from one scene to another. It is a bit abstract but easy to catch on to.

The interesting thing is that we see many of his paintings with the real-life counterparts standing around them.

The paintings are so alive that they make the action seem drab by comparison. This is enhanced by the quality of the DVD restoration.

This is noted in the brief Times review and I think that it is intentional.

If you watch it, be careful to watch and even make note of the slides that state the date and year. That way you will be able to piece it together better.

I think that this film is a document of its time as well. It is the end of the 60-70s in London. The high old times.

It is also way ahead of itself in such a way to make it a unique film experience even today.

And some of the boys are beautiful.

I will give it a 5 out of Netflix5 of course.

COCONUTS

Keith falls out of a palm tree.

Still at it after all these years.

High.

Stones Guitarist Richards Injured in Fiji

He is the only Stone that interests me, actually.

When he was young he was captivating to look at. He still is. Only in a different way. Look at those grooves.

His yawing, sawing, buck and wing dancing, while he plays, is unique.

Recently, I saw him in several interviews on DVD's and he talks as whacky and wonderful as he moves.

He is very smart and his observations are right on.

Now, he is falling out of palm trees.

We have a bunch in our yard.

They are not to hard to get up into.

They are hell to get down from.

LESS AFFLUENT

It is hard to imagine a world without John Kenneth Galbraith in it.

We will be poorer for it.

Even though he has been relatively quiet for a number of years, just when I would imagine him gone, he would erupt with some new observation or appear at an important event.

In my Harvard Square years, he was often visible plowing through the Coop with his bookbag or hopping across the Square; indulging in the local sport of jaywalking.

I went to some parties where he was there.

I watched, mostly. He was a very charismatic guy.

He was not greatly appreciated by his own profession of Economics but then, he was less an economist than an observer and wry commentator on our society.

His book, The Affluent Society predicted the state of our world today where the rich/poor gap widens and corporate power gains its hold on political and spiritual entities.

He was always dryly funny and even slashing in his observations. The word 'trenchant' comes to mind.

We had him around for a lot of years to slaughter the sacred cows.

I can only imagine the havoc he is having in the fields of heaven as he makes his wry observations about the place.

LOCKED IN

Today's movie did not make the NYTimes 1176 Best Film list.

I wanted to see it because many regard it as a great film from Michelangelo Antonioni, a great director.

And, after being 'lost' or 'unavailable' for almost 30 years, it is now available on DVD and perfectly restored.

The Passenger / Professione: reporter (1975)

The young and uncharismatic (that is a good thing) Jack Nicholson plays a reporter in Africa who has a chance to change his identity and takes it.

Needless to say, complications follow.

This being an Antonioni film, those complications take beautiful and intriguing form.

It is a rich and visually generous film. There are lots of cinematographic highlights that do not detract from the feeling or tone of the film but, in fact, create the ambience of it.

For me, it was a sort of continuous dread and feeling of islolation.

The last seven minutes are one shot with Nicholson alive on a bed at the beginning and then...................well.

No spoilers.

It is a famous shot and worth all its reputation.

There are several versions of this film and this is the one shown in Europe. It has 7 more minutes than the American version and it is not Antonioni's director's cut. It is doubtful he made one.

Whoever's cut it is, I liked it a lot.

There are the usual vast open spaces and the continuous list of unknowns with just enough knowns to keep you going. So clever. Great art.

I will give it a 5 out of Netflix5.

GOD'S LANGUAGE

I remember when they were arguing for and against bi-lingualism, one of our relatives on the religious right (or religious wrong) said that 'if English was OK for Jesus Christ it ought to be OK for everyone else'.

Citing the 'holy' bible, of course.

Well, george is similar.

I wasn't going to link it but it is too rich.

Bush Enters Anthem Fight on Language.

Sadly, it seems, that the spanish version uses the same tune. It will still be hard to make it over that last glissando.

I think that we ought to think about changing the tune too.

Here is the national anthem of Lithuania. It looks a lot easier to sing.

RUSH TO JUDGEMENT

Limbaugh Reaches Settlement in Drug Case

I was just wondering the other day what had happened to this.

He says that he didn't do it and he won't do it again.

I like this earlier headline better

Limbaugh Arrested in Fla. on Drug Charges

The AP has a way of softening its initial blows. I assume this is a result of the news moving up the organization to the more craven, Peter Principled suits.

BUSHBASHING

I just don't feel like shooting at a sitting duck.

Quack Quack.

But this is just too much.

In three headlines from the top of Yahoo News today, our prez says no, no, no.

He says NO to taxing oil profits.

He says NO to the national outing for all immigrants and their friends on Cinco de Mayo. A million expected in LA.

And he says no to the Spanish version of the National Anthem.

Well, I can see his point on that one, sort of.

I won't bother to link the headlines; all on AP or Yahoo.

Just what I like. Positive, goal oriented leadership.

What a shit.

Actually, negativity without your own agenda, is a sign of a lame duck.

He is still a shit though.

CATCHING UP

Yeh, I wrote a lot today.

I was catching up.

I haven't been as active on the blog this week as I would like.

I had other stuff to do and no time to write about it.

So, you can take a break and read this over two days.

How is that?

And there is no movie today.

We are gearing up for the only story that has TWO films on the NYTimes Best Film list:

Little Women.

There is the first 1932 version directed by (the young) George Cukor and has Katherine Hepburn in it. In the second one, 1994, Susan Sarandon is the mom.

As you might remember, I do not do sequels and I do not do movies of films based on novels that I have read. This will break two of those rules.

That's OK.

Exceptions make the rule.

DON'T TAKE NO SHIT

This morning, I was coming back up our driveway on the bike when I saw a neighborhood couple walking their dogs up the hill ahead of me.

A 'him and her' couple. We have that kind scattered through our neighborhood.

No sooner had I spotted them than her dog squatted and left a hot heavy one right in the middle of the drive.

She walked on.

The husband, who was waiting for her, saw me coming and started to make the turn up the main road and behind the bushes there. Coward.

She was not so nimble and heard me. She turned around.

"I'd like you to pick that up, please", I said, sweetly.

She said "Oh I will. I was going to."

He is now up the hill peering from behind the big mesquite bush up there at the corner. Pussy.

So, she goes up the hill and gets a piece of palm bark to come back and shovel it up!

Like she is going to carry the shit on the stick for the whole walk. No way. Just long enough to dump it on the neighbor's lot.

I said "Don't you have a bag?'

She said "No".

I said (in the tone of a kindergarten teacher) "You ought to take a bag with you on the walk".

She said "I know, but we left the house so quickly and............"; and so on.

The guy is now peeking out through the mesquite.

I said, "Well the bark is not going to work, let me get you a bag." And I went into the house to get one.

John says, "What's going on?". I tell him I caught a pooper red handed.

Well not the hand so much. More the palm. Heh heh.

So, I took out the bag and gave it to her. I was surprised they were still there, actually.

I was prepared to chase them. Maybe they knew that.

By now I recognized the dogs as the twosome who live up the hill on El Portal.

The one dog, a pup, is so sweet. When he is alone he and Franklin have a nice time. The husband had that one.

The other dog is a nasty bastard and comes running and barking. When he is around there is no play but Franklin does brace and bark back. He doesn't take any shit either. Just like his dad!

So I said, to her, "Oooooh. I know your dogs. You live up El Portal! My dog plays with yours at the gate".

Now, she's nailed. She knows that I know who she is; and where she lives!

She takes the bag. She picks up the poop. They are on their way.

The husband has not said one fucking word the whole time.

Not his dog!

But that may be his normal way of life.

BACK AGAIN

I went to my chiropractor for a followup to my serious visits 6 weeks ago (6 visits in two weeks to unkink a snarled back/hip/leg thing).

I got an adjustment and a small lecture about stretching.

He knew that I was less than religious about the stretching from my moans when he stretched my hamstrings and groans when he mashed my knees to my chest.

I nodded during the lecture. I agree that stretching will help a lot.

But, to me, stretching is like flossing my teeth.

I just do not do it.

My stretching aversion has not quite reached the militant level of my flossing.

For years, I have just told the dentists and hygienists who have served me well and valiantly, that I do not floss! Period.

The do the tsk tsk thing and then let me alone.

I hope to achieve this level of acceptance with my chiropractor. Maybe it will mean going every four weeks instead of six.

It is not that I cannot or am not willing to do it. I just don't think about it.

Three weeks ago, I had a bit of a relapse down there in back/hip/leg land and so I did the stretching for a couple of days and it worked.

I would do it again.

All I have to do is to remember to do it. And, if I remember it, take the time to act on the self reminder.

And maybe I will find a substitute. Instead of flossing, I took up stimudents. Picking my teeth in public. Now there is a new should or should not.

Maybe there is a stretching thing that I can do that will be memorable and satisfying enough to get me going. And something I can do in public!

CREATURE FEATURE

We have a rat again.

Or two.

Or maybe it is not a rat.

Whatever it is came out Wednesday night while we were sleeping and took two small bites out of an unripe pear. Not big ones.

I don't think that s/he liked the pear much.

Last night, as I am of the habit to do, I left a hunk of multi-grain bread (La Brea Bakeries—very good) in the fruit dish. It is to go with my hard boiled egg(s), in the morning. Egg(s) because, just now that I am on half rations, there is only one egg but normally two.

I digress.

During the night, when I got up to pee, I thought of the bread and my stupidity at leaving it out if there was a rat threat. So, I went to the fruit bowl and felt around in the dark. How dumb is that?

No. No rat.

But, there was an empty sheet of plastic film where the wrapped bread used to be.

It gave me a bit of a jolt.

Not only that, but there were some papers on the floor from the little desk where s/he must have made the gallant leap up or down from the counter.

Both mornings, Franklin has been disturbed. He can open the door to the cabinet under the sink now (big boy!) and did so. He stuck his nose in there and did his grunting thing. "Oonghf oonghf oonghf."

No rat.

I have been around the house collecting the rat traps that are left in place from the last incursion.

I bought some peanut butter from the store today; the cheapest available. Chunky.

Tonight, we will see if the rat would like a peanut butter treat right about where the pear and the bread (LaBrea) was.

I may also put one along the wall of the lower cabinet (oonghf).

You put them on the runways usually. Along walls; not out in the middle. But I think that the pear/bread place is worth a try.

I will report.

Oh. What about PETA and all?

I do not snap the trap. I do not eat the peanut butter. I only set up a scenario in which the rat may make a choice.

I will not mind putting on the rubber gloves and carting the carcass, trap and all, to the trash barrel.

OH. And what if it is not a rat? Perhaps a ground squirrel. Then, I will seek help.

TELEPHONICAL

We are still hooked up to our land line.

I know.

We had decided to go all mobile and we have.

We just can't cut the Verizon umbilical.

The intent was to cut off after a period of receiving calls on the line.

If someone called, they got a recording saying that we had gone cellular and we would call them back.

It is amazing how long the tail of the calling kite is.

Just when I get ready to call Verizon and disconnect, someone from the deep dark past calls and leaves a message.

The last one was from thirty years ago!

You can't go to 411-information or the web to find out mobile numbers.

So, it has been almost two years and we are still hooked up.

We do not call out at anytime although some people who come into the house use the phone.

And now, the 'old' phone we had is not really working.

It is a cordless model and the batteries are gone or something.

I looked it up.

Another cheap appliance.

Forty bucks got us a new corded phone (and useless remote not optional).

It is the only unit with a cord. Can you imagine?

$40. How do they do it?

I ordered it from Amazon.

But, I had a lot of fun hooking it up. It tells you goddam everything to do and if you do it wrong it even slaps your wrist.

So here we are with a new phone and message machine hooked up to a line we don't use anymore.

We do live in bizarre times.

Yesterday a new shredder and today a new phone. Both for peanuts.

That is it for me though.

Like my Dad said for twenty years: "This is my last .........." Fill in the blank.

BAD MEDICINE

I went to see my friend in the hospital yesterday to find things all in chaos.

He was hallucinating and disoriented; tubes pulled out and a guard on the room to make sure he did not leave.

He had been that way since the previous day and evidently they were waiting for Docs to come and decide what was going on.

He is not in there for something that would cause this directly.

So, after a number of more hours, his partner called to say that he was recovering and that he had evidently been given the wrong medication.

If I may be pardoned for saying so, "What the fuck"?

As if he needed some more complications.

The supervision at the hospital is tissue thin. There is a shortage of nurses.

Doctors are overloaded and not able to get to the scene when required. But 18 hours?

But, I am only a bystander. The family knows. The partner is relatively new to the scene. Not a domestic partner. No other rights than the ones he can wheedle.

I am standing back for now and will go in tomorrow to see what is going on.

Good news is that he did get radiation yesterday for the cancer treatment and is due for more today. Back on track. I hope.

THIS IS THE WEEK

'They' have left or are leaving.

Fortunately, while 'they' were here they left a lot of money in the economy, so now, we can bid them a hearty farewell.

I am referring, of course, to the snow birds who populate our town for the winter; November to May.

We can see the evidence; less traffic, more parking spots, silent condo units. There are some condo blocks here that are all itinerants. Last night, Franklin and I walked through a few of them and they are soul-less. You can feel it.

The first big wave is the Canadians. To keep their socialized medicine rights they have to be home for at least 6 months.

The next bunch are the ones from Seattle and Portland; the greater Northwest. They start to leave as soon as the temperatures hit 90 (last week, today, tomorrow) and they cannot be found anywhere when the temps hit 100 (next week for sure).

The fog and rain are in their systems and they cannot handle it. Our friend Jane who lives at the very end of our drive will be out of here and back in the rain forest next week.

There are other sundry migrants. There are people who work here 6 months and Provincetown or some other eastern resort 6 months. Now is their time to switch. A neighbor up the street falls into that category. Two other friends will make the drive back for the last time. They are getting 'too old' for it.

Others just have itchy feet I guess.

All of that adds up to a wonderful period for those of us who stay here; the confirmed desert rats who like the 90s and the 100s even more and yearn for a new record heat this year; 127 anyone?

When it is hot like that there is no problem finding a parking spot under a tree.

The irony of it.

All these people come to the desert at just the time to be crowded up together. Then they leave at some of the best weather we will see in the valley and not come back until at least 6 weeks of wonderful autumn air have been wafting over us.

CODEX

I didn't much like The Da Vinci Code but I was glad to see the author get off the plagiarism rap.

I am also happy to see this delightful bit of fun

Judge Embeds a Puzzle in ‘Da Vinci Code’ Ruling

There will always be an England!

FATHER'S DAY

Today's NYTimes Best 1176 Film was

Life With Father (1947)

I am glad that they have rescued it from obscurity as I remember the film quite fondly and I was only ten at the time.

It is a warhorse of the theater brought to film. Written by Lindsey and Russel Crouse from the autobiography by Clarence Day Jr., it is a highly crafted piece of comedy theater. Every line a gem; every plot twist deftly turned.

Taking it outside doesn't always help, but these moments are short.

William Powell (the thin man) is wonderful in the role of Father Day and Irene Dunne (sigh) is glorious as Mother.

Father is cantankerous and tyrannical in his way but neither the four children or Mother pays any attention. He is one of those cranks who is quite lovable.

I aspire to this myself.

Other than the fact that he was my kind of Dad (and my Dad's kind of Dad), a role model, I think that it has lasted for me as it was the first film, or anything, that questioned the nature of religious experience.

Father is really a deist and, as a registered Episcopalian because of Mother, he is caught between the Rock and a hard place.

He has not ever been baptized! Gasp!

He acquiesces but not without a long and gallant fight with all the healthy skepticism a ten year old Methodist could handle. It is one stone in the foundation for a questioning life.

Not a bad outcome for an old theatrical warhorse.

The young Elizabeth Taylor plays a breathless teen and one of the sons is none other than Martin Milner who became Marty and traversed Route 66 on teevee!

It is worth a look but there is a warning. The DVD transfer is awful. It is slightly blurry and the sound is muffled. Someone got the rights and just printed it and didn't care a fuck about the quality.

But you get used to it and the glow of the work of all concerned shines through the haze.

I will give it a 4 out of Netflix5 for old time sake and because it is naughtily sacrilegious just as I was ready to pick up on it.

SLASHER

I finally succumbed to the 'stolen identity' scare and bought a shredder.

It was an article in the AARP magazine of all things.

They had a list of actions you could take and said that the single most powerful step would be to get a shredder.

I have been tearing check stubs and statements and all by hand. Then I separate the pieces into two different barrels of trash.

But, what sold me on the shredder was that they are, like most appliances that have been around for awhile, cheap as dirt.

So, it is more of a convenience buy. I suppose that I might shred more than I would by hand.

I got this nifty designer model. Amazon.

Can you imagine? Its a designer model. Michael Graves.

It will take five pages at a time. It will take one credit card. But that would be mixing recyclables.

Currently, I am shredding everything. It is fun.

I don't much worry about identity theft but it happened to one of our family so my antennae are up.

I don't fill in my SS number on any form. I make them ask and justify.

We don't have but two credit cards both of which are insured if we move quickly enough.

I don't send in for anything, check any blocks or otherwise stimulate any junk mail, phone marketing, or e-mail. I regularly clean up the cookies on my computer.

I watch all on-line purchases for VeriSign or other certifications.

Everywhere I shop they have a self swipe feature.

And so on.

There is only so much you can do though. The rest is like all life risks. Take them as they come.

TRIPLE A

Today's NYTimes Best 1176 Film was

A League of Their Own (1992)

There is a great film in here struggling to get out. But it has to slog its way through Tom Hank's over the top performance as a washed out ball player. a lot of extraneously annoying—or is it annoyingly extraneous—music, and a ham fisted attempt to wring some drama out of dying soldiers in WWII.

This is Penny Marshall's downfall as a director. She cannot get the chaff out of the final print.

The movie is a series of great moments interspersed with sit-com schlock. Well, that is where Marshall came from.

I enjoyed most of it and was annoyed with a lot of it. Geena Davis is good. It is nice to see a more restrained Rosie O'Donell. And so on.

I am sorry to report that while Madonna turns in a servicable performance that a double is used for the dance numbers. Yes. They had to get her out on the dance floor. But it is not her.

Some tugs at the heart strings were successful. There are some laughs. The drama is trite but bearable.

I will give it a 3 out of Netflix5.

WSJ?OTD

I have been skipping this lately as it has had questions that DNA 2 me.

But, today's question is one that I can speak to easily.

"How does a highly selective college affect a graduate's ability to succeed?"

I went to a very highly selective college and it nearly busted my ass. But I got through MIT even though I needed a summer term to finish my thesis.

Yes, we were so select that you had to write a thesis for the bachelor programs.

Was it worth the busted ass and the money?

Well, first the busted ass. I actually majored in extra-curriculars and took my electives in 'humanities' subjects. I was a half-arts graduate.

This funny combination helped me immensely in jobs and acquisition of jobs because I had the stuff to do what was asked.

Pure engineers are rather wobbly on the practical side. I excelled.

I had managed a large scale student staff operation by the time I left MIT so I had the chops to handle people and to meet customers; service.

The arts side rounded me out and made me a good conversationalist and even a good faker when the time came to nod at all the arts guys who interviewed me over the years.

But, I am digressing.

Did the 'beaver' class ring have caché?

It was frequently recognized. The ring is uniquely non-stoned; a full gold casting.

Explanation: MIT's mascot is a beaver. It was affectionally dubbed the brass rat. Us MIT guys don't want to get too far above ourselves

Did the ring and name help? Yes, yes, and yes.

People's eyes would bulge.

They would shake my hand harder.

They would sort of kiss my ass.

A running start.

And, as I said, I delivered. So I don't know how long you could ride on the rep of the school alone. Not long, I would guess.

So, I answered "Enhances a great deal".

Other voters differed a bit.

It came out

I figure this last 2% went to Cal Tech.

SALISBURY PLAIN

In parallel with Melville, I am reading Sarum, a novel of England that takes place over 5000 years.

The author is Edward Rutherford. He did the same thing with London and Russia. There is also a companion novel to this one.

We jump from the times before StoneHenge; then the great temple's construction and on to the Romans and their end. And so on, through modern times.

It is riveting.

The interest is maintained through the jump because we follow several families through this entire time.

We can keep track because there are some physical characteristics that come down through the centuries. Artifacts are found from previous times.

It is a fast ride and I am enjoying all of it.

Thanks Hal.

MEL'S GOT IT

I haven't reported on the 'Melville Project' for awhile.

The deal is to read all of Herman's works; in order, of course.

Nothing like a system. Left to right, top to bottom, 0 to ∞, and so on. And on.

I have finished Redburn some time ago. It is a fictionalized version of a very young sailor's time in the Merchant Marine; one voyage to Liverpool from Manhattan.

There is a lot of local color in both cities.

Now, I am reading White Jacket which covers the last year or so of a tour on an American Man of War. There are ports of call but he intentionally does not write about them. It is all ship all of the time.

It is a huge ship with 500 sailors. A lot happens.

The microsystem gives Melville an opportunity to way in on some hot issues of the time; regimentation under a despotical command, the practice of flogging, and the like.

But still, neither of these books are strictly modern fiction. There is no real plot. They are more like journals. But, very good and involving journals. The writer comes alive as do his friends and enemies.

Great stuff. I am liking it a lot.

The plot will thicken with Moby Dick which is next in line.

NO ROOM AT THE INN

I don't much cotton to Mick Jagger and, as the photo of the 'room' in question attests, the splurge is beyond decadent, but still. It is good to see him not quaver in the face of the busher's request to move over.

Mick Beats George to Suite.

GONE

I just heard a long, roaring takeoff.

The airport is only a couple of miles away. In town.

The flight path goes the other way from us but I could hear this one; loud and clear.

It must be the huge 747 USAF1.

We don't get 'big planes' very often.

Bush has been here. He is on his way across the mountains to John Wayne Airport in Orange County.

Appropriate in a way, but then not. John was a far better screen cowboy than junior.

Tomorrow he is giving a speech on his immigration proposals in the OC.

He will not be welcomed. It is probably a gaff on their part.

A lot of Republican pols will be no shows.

As for his visit here, at least the plane didn't blow up.

There were some protestors.

Our Rep. Mary Bono got half an hour with him in the limo (she says).

Actually, she probably did.

She is not nearly as bad as she might be.

She came to congressional life newly widowed and fell under the sway of the right wing for awhile.

Then she woke up and smelled the coffee. Her constituency is anything but typical right wing. Mostly libertarians and radical homo-progressives.

A tough straddle, but she is an ex-gym trainer and has the flexibility to do it.

I sort of thought her an airhead, trophy wife type and maybe she was but that is not the case now.

Bushie came for a fundraiser and a visit to the Marine base in the high desert; a 'copter hop away.

He didn't do a whole lot else here.

He did ride the mountain bike, incidentally.

Readers wondered if I would ride with him.

No.

He went to 'either the San Bernadino or San Jacinto park areas'. Pretty covert.

So, that is the report on our little time with the shithead. Or is it head shit?

TOUGH TIMES

I have a close friend who is in the throes of treatment for cancer in his throat.

This is one of those cases where the cure is so extreme that it nearly kills the patient.

The cancer got a good head start. They have to play catch up to try to head it off.

I visit every morning.

They are hitting him with chemo and radiation at the same time.

That is why he is in the hospital; to manage the side effects.

It takes all his reserves and then some.

I sit on the bed. I hold his hand. We chat a little about stuff.

The nurses come and go.

I have him to myself at these times.

No other visitors get up this early.

He does have a big family and a lot of friends come for quick stops.

I am one in a crowd.

I go through periods of thinking that I am supposed to say or do something of consequence. To lift him up. To ease the pain.

There is nothing to do but to sit on the bed, hold his hand and chat about stuff.

He can't really talk too much. He is on a lot of pain medication and god only knows what else.

This morning, for awhile, he was out of time and touch. But he came back. I was there.

I have not always been good about visiting people in the hospital.

I am committed to staying the course this time.

Many days I leave and tears flow. For him. For me. But, I think, also for the people that I didn't have time to see or to be with when the end was close or the possibility was there.

I still have some old grieving work to do.

One can always change behavior.

It is never too late until it is really, really too late.

In a way, this is a gift.

I get to let go of all that pent up stuff.

My friend is brave sometimes and then not. I am there as much as I can be for all of it.

We will see it through.

FOOD FOR THE HEART

Magical realism.

Passion unspent.

Como agua para chocolate /
Like Water for Chocolate (1992)

Based on the novel of the same name.

What a tearily wonderful movie.

It is great to look at this family legend come to life in the words of a young woman living now.

A cookbook provides the inspiration. The smell of food. Proust cannot be too far away.

I liked this film a lot.

It is one of those that I would have just started over again when it ended.

In fact, I wanted to restart it after the first ten minutes; it seemed so rich.

We missed this when it came around. I am glad that I finally caught up with it.

What does the title mean? See the link; first paragraph; Ebert.

I didn't get it even when the film was done.

One of the few flaws. But, then I am anglo.

There is a neat twist to this. It takes place in a Mexican/US border town and shows the mixing of the cultures. Very nice. There are a lot of blonds mixed in with the brunettes.

Give it a 5 out of Netflix5.

END OF AN ERA

I remember.

Anyone my age and ten years younger remembers.

The illuminati: Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Van Morrison, and many others. In their prime.

Martin Scorcese brought big studio production values to filming the last performance of The Band.

The Last Waltz (1978)

Little did he or they know that this was the twilight for all the stars who appeared.

It is a great music documentary.

There is little to be said about music—words fail—although Bill Wyman's Salon review of the DVD (which is linked above) does a great job of giving some perspective. He gives a lot of background on how the film was made; the only 35mm concert film at the time or, perhaps, ever.

Today, it would be all digital.

I enjoyed it.

Scorcese has a good 'hand' at music films. I watched his recent Dylan TV film No Direction Home (or was it theatrical?).

That is good because I do not much like the killer stuff he does.

These Band guys were sexy and full of real music. They hired Garth Hudson, partly, because he was a thoroughly educated musician. He told his parents he was giving them music lessons; the only way he could justify 'dropping out' of a classical career.

Robbie Robertson and Rick Danko look like Rock Gods. Levon Helm and Richie Manuel, both beautifully shy-off-stage, sizzle when they go 'on'. Amazing to see.

Only standards are played throughout and there is nothing about the origin of the songs, almost all inspired by American history (they are all Canadians except Helm, odd!).

I quibble.

This will be a 5 out of Netflix5.

This would be a good film for the 'young'uns' to see what the original music was like. Now, it is all elevator music. Danko and Manuel are dead at an early age.

Like I said, end of an era. The seventies.

SET ON PAUSE

I am three and a half weeks into my weight loss plan and have a small report.

Ten pounds are gone.

That is just about the rate that is healthy; three pounds a week.

I can count it on the scale, I can feel it around my middle, and I can see it in the mirror.

That is the good news.

The bad news is that I have suddenly hit a level spot in the downhill path.

I haven't lost any weight for a few days.

Maybe I hit the 'starvation response' where the body readjusts the metabolism to save my life. I doubt it.

Maybe the body is holding on to 'old fat'; the principle of last on, first off applies.

Maybe I am obsessing too much.

We will see.

If I am now at the 'old fat' stage, I will have to be patient.

If the metabolism is re-adjusted, I may be stuck. I might have to eat like this the rest of my life!

I think not, however. I am still hungry a lot of the time; just nicely so. And that means that the whole thing is working.

It is just normal to have weight fluctuation and that is what is going on now.

In any case, when (and if) this is over, I will have to be careful not to go right back to the old amounts of food.

If you missed the start of this, I am eating all of the same foods that I did before; only half as much except for evening meal protein.

I may have to reduce that last bit. I don't know.

I don't want to get radical; or hungrier.

So, that is it from the land of non-fad diet weight loss. Healthy, slow rate (a bit too slow) weight adjustment.

My doc told me that I was not on a 'diet' but that I had a food plan. I liked that.

FLY-IN

The bushie is coming to 'Palm Springs'.

Laura isn't coming and, since I am pretty sure that he is the first in a long line of prexies that do not golf, that is out too.

Does anyone know if he plays anything?

Actually, he is only coming to the airport.

He will be at a fundraiser in Indian Wells, down valley Saturday night and then to 29 Palms Marine Base on Sunday.

Both are 'closed' events.

Here is the full report on the visit:

Public Will Not Be Able to See President Bush

A laugh and a half that.

He isn't going to be able to see me either.

They landed a transport plane today with all the prez-shit on it.

You are paying for this.

I had considered painting a sign but he is in the bubble that has been built for him.

He has been trying some little steps outside it lately and has gotten a mess of trouble for it; hostile questions and all.

I think it is better this way.

He doesn't think about any of us and we don't think anything of him either.

BETTE AGAIN

Probably, the most frequently featured actress in the Best Films series; Bette Davis. Maybe Monroe. But close.

She was superb today in William Wyler's adaptation of the Lillian Hellman play

The Little Foxes (1941)

There is a great supporting cast including Herbert Marshall who is one of the most undersung.

Then there is Dan Duryea turning in one of his genius weasel roles. It is his first picture. Later in his career he will become a great mad killer or psycho in many films. He has 112 credits.

Teresa Wright who was and played the innocent ingenue has Richard Carlson for a boyfriend.

It was Wright's first film too! She has 82 credits.

She owns the climax as she makes her statement to her bitch mother, finally.

And, I suspect, a group of actors shipped in from the Broadway cast.

Great ensemble but it is Davis' movie from beginning to end.

The theme is American greed. What a contemporary issue; evergreen. It is our legacy.

You could dress these people up in Oval Office clothes and you would have the modern version.

Great theater. Great film. The framing and light are superb in this excellent restoration.

I will give it a 5 out of Netflix 5.

SKINNING SKILLING

I have an unusual desire to see Skilling, formerly of Enron, get his ass kicked.

He is an alumnus of a former client and a nasty example of the more difficult of that consultant breed.

And, I live in California! I paid a lot of money over to his company and to him during our 'power crisis'.

Listen to him laugh:

At another point, Mr. Berkowitz seized on an opening to try to show Mr. Skilling's sense of his own rightness that irritated California politicians during that state's energy crisis, when Enron was making huge profits selling wholesale power and natural gas to the state. Mr. Skilling joked publicly in June 2001 that the only difference between the Titanic and California was that "at least the lights were on when the Titanic went down."

When Mr. Skilling compared the energy regulatory environment in California to that of developing countries, Mr. Berkowitz asked: "Do you think that's funny? You were smiling. What happened out there, do you think that's funny?"

That is me he is laughing at.

The shit.

I think that they are all as guilty as hell.

If you want to read more about Skilling and his performance, here it is.

Which Picture of Skilling Will Enron Jurors Believe?

Take a look at that cooked up publicity photo. You can see the smirk and smarm despite the 'informal' look. Note the pressed jeans.

I worked with a lot of these professional consultants who had never done real work in their life.

Many of them were quite aware of this disability and worked hard to compensate.

Others, too many, were arrogant, entitled assholes who made life miserable for their colleagues and a lot of people in their clients' organizations.

Of course, my job, was to show them another way and offer some skills in the direction of positive influence. There were some non-takers.

I don't remember him, but Skilling would have been there at the time and is typical of the minority who sneered.

Whether they hang him or not, he is 'ruined' in the sense of reputation and livelihood.

Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

HEROES 75 / HYPOCRITES 0

I was brought up as a Methodist; obviously, it did not take very well.

But I am always interested in how they are shooting themselves in the foot as far as 'christian' values are concerned.

Here is the latest:

Gay ministers come out, criticize Methodist Church for homophobia

I don't remember the Methodists as having much of a theology actually. It was mostly about gossip and backbiting at the parish and conference level.

In any event, if there was any it didn't take on me.

I didn't see the 'method' in the madness.

I still don't 'get' the trinity.

But, I grew up in the country and so it was very down home stuff. A long way from John Wesley.

When I moved to MIT in Cambrige, I went to the Harvard-Epworth Methodist Church which had a very strong social gospel and apparently still does.

The 'Sunday school' sessions were almost socialistic! A great guy from BU who was a full professor. Charismatic.

I didn't stay there too long as I could get my socialism without its being strained through the holy cloth.

So, I do not know this church at all; mean spirited, right wing. Bastards.

ON THE MARK

Mark Morford does have a way with words and it has been a while since I have posted one of his righteous rants.

So here is a masterpiece:

Chips down, Bush prepares a Hail Mary bet

I got it from Kos.

MORE THAN JUST TREE HUGGERS

In the early part of this century a broad coalition of interests came together powerfully to virtually create the conservation movement; Teddy Roosevelt, John Muir, et.al.

This could and is happening again.

The Emerging Environmental Majority

CPR

Cell Phone Resuscitation.

My mobile lost its screen today after doing a funny 'never saw before' display.

I turned it off and then turned it on. Reboot, right?

I could call and get calls; we tested.

No screen

Then I charged it up again.

No screen>Then I had a panic attack.

No screen.

In my head, I was already on-line at Verizon this afternoon waiting hours to get to someone who would say that I needed to leave the phone there and then I would have to buy a new one and.............so on.

I hadn't considered calling them to ask about it and maybe avoid the dread trip.

Then, a miracle.

Our 'company' for the week/start; the opposite of week/end (Randy) said to try taking the battery out and wipe it and the points and then put it back again.

VOILA!

The screen was back.

He also said that kicking it sometimes helped too.

We didn't have to go to that level of resuscing.

It just shows how much I have come to depend on this thing.

And I love this phone; the LG VX4500.

Anxiety city.

SLOWDOWN

Company is on the horizon so there may be a blogo-hiatus.

Just saying.

Do you call guests 'company'?

Everytime I use the term, which I grew up with, I feel a little insecure.

'Company is coming'. 'We are having company'. Like that.

'Guests' sounds like a hotel. But they will be staying in the guest room

'Visitors' sounds like a delegation or maybe and inspection.

'Friends'.

Well, that would work.

Anyway, the routine around here is likely to get nicely disrupted so don't expect an avalanche of postings here.

As if.

LOVE NOTE

We saw Joseph L. Mankiewicz'

Letter to Three Wives (1949)

today. It is a NYTimes Best Film.

Three pals, on a boating day trip, get a letter right before they embark; Linda Darnell, Ann Sothern and Jeanne Crain.

An old rival has run off with one of their husbands. They have to get on the boat (forget why) and so each has a chance to think about why and how it might be their man. Three stories; three reasons for a split.

It sounds a little cheesy but the stories are pretty good and the lines are excellent and it is fun to watch the couples have it out.

Kirk Douglas is one of the husbands. Was he ever that young? I guess so! Well, I looked. He was 33; b. 1919. It is the same year that he made Champion.

The best thing about it is that it has my old favorites Thelma Ritter and Paul Douglas.

Can't get enough.

It is a classic forties post-war film. Pure Hollywood.

It is fun and breezy and has a great ending; top of the form.

There is also a wonderful running joke with an over-the-tracks apartment that vibrates every time the train goes by. It is a great sight gag and unbelievably well constructed. Everything jumps. Even Paul Douglas' jowls.

I will give it a 4 out of Netflix5.

This film happens to be the favorite film of a dear friend so I watched it in some dread that I would not like it much.

No chance.

I may not have liked as much as he does but I am not the Ann Sothern fan that he is. She is very good. They all are.

GOING APESHIT

Dave sent this in:

Dance Monkeys, Dance

BUNNY HOP

A regular reader of this blog will know that I am areligious. The spell check wants irreligious but I will stay with ‘a’.

By this, I mean that I have opted out of organized religion of any kind.

I have deep spiritual interests but I do not contain them in some prefab construct. Nor do I get myself entrapped by someone else's beliefs.

So you might not be surprised to find that easter is a nonstarter for me. Though, I guess, no-ender would be better. Christmas is the start; this the end. Or the re-start. Never mind.

All the dead, then not-dead stuff leaves me behind in the prop wash.

I was not brought up with a disinterest in easter.

It was, in fact, quite a holiday. There were eggs and egg hunts and a lot of candy. All very interesting.

There seemed to be an obligation to also go to church and hear about Jesus’ end-story but I never quite got the connection between it and chicks and bunnies.

Well, of course, there is no connection.

Once again, the organized christians had co-opted a perfectly OK pagan festival into their own rites and rituals.

It worked for the birth end; why not the death end.

So, the confused haze that passes for religious thought in most children’s (and adult’s) minds settled in and never lifted until I lifted myself out of the whole thing during my teen years.

I did not leave the church itself, incidentally. Not for, maybe another 15 years.

It takes a bit of courage to take that step, after all.

I stayed because I had business there. I played the organ and actually got paid for going! Sometimes, I led the choir and made even more.

That will help one bear up under a lot of doctrinal haziness as well as the hypocrisy of it all. Cash money.

It was also performing in front of other people! A life’s work.

The other reason I didn’t leave right away was my parents. And my kids.

My parents because I just didn’t want to hear it. My mother more than my dad.

My kids because that is where my mother would start and also because there was a bit of ‘let them decide for themselves’ to it.

Those years were not burdensome. We took it upon ourselves to practice the main tenets; gifts in winter, eggs and candy in the spring. Otherwise, we didn’t get too far in the theology; not much further than I had gotten as a child methodist. No concept.

We were secular christians.

Over the years, even the secular part dropped away.

Some parts have held on. I stayed with coloring eggs for many years and we always had an easter lily or two. More in flush years.

And we always had marshmallow peeps. You would let them get stale and eat them dried out.

Then, for caloric reasons, even the peeps fell away.

So there won’t be any easter stuff at our house except here in the blog.

End of an era.

I don’t miss any of it actually.

EALING

When I was in college and a bit beyond, the Ealing Studios in Great Britain put out a string of classic comedies that had their own unique character.

One could look forward to them with reasonable expectation of good solid enjoyment. Not only were they funny, in their dry Brit way, but they were also rather good films; complex and not obvious takes on human nature.

Today we saw an example of the body of work. It is obviously chosen as the Best of the lot for the Best 1176 Films; another niche choice.

I had never seen

The Lavender Hill Mob (1951)

as it came before I was in Boston to see it.

But, it is a trifecta. It has the Ealing brand and stars both Alec Guiness and Stanley Holloway; the first, a great actor at all levels; the second, a classic comedian in the full Brit theater mold. That is Shakespeare to nuts for both of them.

The plot is a maelstrom. The main point is to get from point a to point b and the job is done very well.

I will only give this one a 3 because it is not the Best. That would be Kind Hearts and Coronets which is coming on the 'best' list or The Lady Killers (the original, not the terrible remake) which is not.

This one has a little too much potboiling to get to the point but the performances are wonderful.

I already said it. I will give it a 3 out of Netflix5.

STRIPED RACER

I was walking down the hallway this afternoon and there, coming toward me, was a foot and a half long snake.

Masticophis lateralis lateralis.

He was coming fast.

But he stopped.

And I stopped.

I don't think I hollered.

And he went into the china closet!

Oh shit.

I called John and he saw that we could put up barriers and then get him to escape the closet and go out the front door which is only 7 or 8 feet away.

So, we put a rolled up rug in the way of the living room.

We opened the front door.

John found my dad's old carnival cane.

I thought he meant to hook the snake with it but he was going to use it to remove the boxes and shit from the floor of the closet.

Which he did. From behind the open closet door.

Of course, now I can see that if the snake had come out and turned left instead of right it would have gone right over John's sandaled foot but no one thought of that then.

Slowly, but surely, we got all the stuff out of the closet floor. Four trays we use for outside dining. A big tray for more shit to carry outside.

A box of table cloths.

Could the snake have gotten into the box? No. Well.

Then a water bottle, a vase, and then we were left with a set of picnic trays which John bought and we have never fucking used (editorial comment). There was the snake. Here he comes!

He turns right!!

He comes towards me! He tries to slide through next to the carpet edge.

I pound the broom on the floor (they read vibrations).

He went into the rolled up carpet!

Slowly and carefully we got the carpet out the door and then, in the alleyway outside, slooooooowly unfurled it.

Out he came. Away to the end of the walkway, outside and into the lawn.

What a hair raising adventure.

I can do anything. Lizards, mice, whatever. I cannot do snakes. My inner scream prevents it.

Neither can John.

But we did this one. With a little help from our and the snake's Higher Power. Or maybe it was luck.

Whatever.

He was a striped racer. Non poisonous. A 'good' snake.

We have had a king snake family here outside the wall when there was a lot of growth on the banks. But they are gone.

They used to scare the shit out of me.

It's OK to say 'shit' on this blog isn't it?

They needed the cover.

We have never had rattlers in our yard.

OK.

The adrenalin is dying down.

How did he get in?

We leave the slider screen in the kitchen open so Franklin can run in and out.

Sometimes birds come in. This is the first snake.

I think we will start keeping the screen closed, even if it means playing 'door' with Franklin.

And where was Franklin during all of this? In his crate.

He claimed 'non-combatant' status.

DULL

I had my semi-annual physical today and in the words of my former doc, the results were un-interesting.

My present doc avoids such a formulation. Faint disapproval of the joke.

Therefore, I always bring it up.

I was diagnosed as getting over a cold. That one is right on.

I got an OK to use Claritin instead of Allegra. In the generic version, large size bottle, "Faux-clariton" costs 30 cents a tab against the Allegra 2.00.

Loratadine.

These are used instead of OTC meds because the do not cause drowsiness and they don't mess up your urinary function. Well, not mine.

I got the skin cancer check; moles. Nothing.

I got the digital (not a movie format) on my prostate cancer remission and was declared remissed although we will take the PSA test tomorrow, my prostate and I.

You are never over cancer. You are only 'in remission'. Sort of a waiting room where you hope never to be called back into the office.

Incidentally, some guys still will not let the doc touch their ass. This is so fatally stupid.

If you are male and over 40 ask for it or take it when offered! Annually. That is how mine was found. Early.

My resting pulse is still about 65 (when I was running it was 54) and my blood pressure is normal; whatever that is.

He doesn't bother with the cholesterol tests any more (well once a year just for the hell of it) as they have never been out of line. Genes.

He endorsed my diet. Told me it was not a diet but a 'program' as it is not a fad, one time thing.

My doc is 'bird thin' so this joke is apt. I just want to be the other way along with him.

We discussed precautions one might take for the pandemic (masks, gloves, etc.). He scoffed at such precautions. If you get it, you've gotten it.

There isn't anything else. Well. My irritable bowel syndrome which began with the loss of the 2004 election (I am not kidding, nor is the IBS) is stable.

You know, at my age, this is all pretty good.

I will get a liver panel tomorrow too. I haven't had a drink in 27 years but damage can be 'funny' the way it lies in wait.

Did I leave anything out?

RETORT REPORT

They have clearly decided to go after Harry Reid. He must be drawing blood.

They should be careful. Reid is one tough old bird and has dealt with pros at this game.

President Bush accused Senate Democratic leader Harry Reid on Thursday of "single-handedly thwarting" action on immigration legislation, and got a brisk retort in return.

"President Bush has as much credibility on immigration as he does on Iraq and national security," shot back the Nevada Democrat

"If the president is serious about moving forward, then he should join me in calling on Senator Frist to bring immigration reform back to the Senate floor when we return" from a two-week recess, Reid said.

"Hopefully, by then, President Bush and his majority leader will have found the backbone to stop the extreme elements of the Republican Party from blocking improvements to America's security," Reid said.......AP

I fondly remember another 'give 'em hell Harry' Harry.

COFFIN

When your last name is 'Coffin' you think of these things.

"Clearly the trick in life is to die young as late as possible," Reverend William Sloane Coffin From his last book, Credo.

I think that this is a good trick to work on.

I think that I will. Or have been doing it.

HERO

Today, no one can hold a candle to
William Sloane Coffin.

Those who identify themselves as christians should read his life story.

What a change in the environment. Now we have religiosity rather than the practice of religion.

'Do what I say' rather than 'follow me'.

This wonderful appreciation of his life:

Reverend William Sloane Coffin, Jr: 1924-2006.

TRIO TRIUMPHANT

Today's NYTimes 1176 Best Film is

Il Gattopardo / The Leopard (1963)

And, we saw the right version; a restored, undubbed 185 minutes; the original Italian version. Not the hack job the American studios turned out; 40 minutes cut and a terrible dubbing job. A box office and critical failure. Read the link.

Ebert calls it a scandal and it was.

Here is the first paragraph of Ebert's loving review.

"The Leopard" was written by the only man who could have written it, directed by the only man who could have directed it, and stars the only man who could have played its title character. The first of these claims is irrefutable, because Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, a Sicilian aristocrat, wrote the story out of his own heart and based it on his great-grandfather. Whether another director could have done a better job than Luchino Visconti is doubtful; the director was himself a descendant of the ruling class that the story eulogizes. But that Burt Lancaster was the correct actor to play Don Fabrizio, Prince of Salina, was at the time much doubted; that a Hollywood star had been imported to grace this most European--indeed, Italian--indeed, Sicilian--masterpiece was a scandal.

I loved it too.

Burt Lancaster owns the picture and if he did not own it, Alain Delon is the heir apparent as he is, in a way, in this film. Their scenes together are so good.

Claudia Cardinale is the woman at the center.

The film is gorgeous.

It takes its time.

A whole world is inexorably slipping away under the characters' feet.

It is subtle. But not opaque.

There is nothing bad to be said about this film.

Nothing.

I will give it a 10 out of Netflix5.

Burt Lancaster is in more of the Best Films than any other actor.

That is a guess but I bet it is close to accurate.

WSJ?OTD

"Does the price of gasoline affect your driving habits?"

NO

First of all, I don't think that we drive that much so it is not a big part of our expenses.

We did change down from premium grade.

Despite all data to the contrary, I have always been a premium gas buyer.

It goes back to the old Mobil ad that showed a washer with stuff in it. The implication being that it cleaned your engine.

Sucker!

But, even knowing that I was being taken, we continued to use premium grade even in the years that we commuted a lot.

I think that I used premium when I rented a car!

Now I know that it was not about performance at all. I bought premium because I could. It was a marker of our affluence.

I didn't do a lot of that. Well, yes I did. We were golden for awhile and painted ourselves with it.

No regrets.

If you got it, flaunt it!

The trick is to know when to quit flaunting because you won't always have it.

What goes up always comes down.

We could have walked or taken the T to almost any location we wanted to. For a long time I had groceries and other stuff delivered because it was easier than taking a car where I could walk just as well.

But here we would be stranded without driving ourselves. There are cabs and they are cheap but that would be crazy.

We don't do recreational driving. We go where we need to go when we need to do it.

Did I mention that we have three cars? None of them gas guzzlers, incidentally.

But that is another question.

The other respondents in this survey said that the price of gasoliine did affect their driving habits 55% to 45%.

BOOOOOOOO

You'll love this.

Cheney throws out the first ball and

gets beaned.

Incredible.

I guess those few cheers you here are his 19% base.

And don't you think that there was even one person who could have told him that this was a really bad PR idea.

Talk about an uncontrolled speaking environment.

STARRING THE MUSIC

I had forgotten what a great director Roger Vadim could be, especially post-Bardot.

Today, we was his NYTimes 1176 Best Film

Les Liaisons dangereuses / Dangerous Liasons (1959)

He puts the classic story in modern dress around a Thelonius Monk jazz score with lots of impressive camera gymnastics; wild tracking shots, deep zooms, light play

Who but the French can take cigarette smoke and make a small film within a film with it. More than once, fire and smoke, light and dark, help us along with the feel of the thing.

We liked it a lot.

The story sort of takes care of itself.

The music is great.

Art Blakey and the Messengers are also heard and seen in the last orgy scene!

The actors do a great job. Jeanne Moreau.

I will give it a 4 out of Netflix5.

Obviously this is not the more recent powdered wig version which is not on the Best list.

POST NASAL

My head cold began to dry up Saturday night and is now a shadow of its former self.

I kind of savor the post cold sound of my voice and the 'feel' of things in my head.

Maybe it is gratitude for having the all the 'wets' over with.

I am happy.

As predicted, it lasted 7 days.

Or a week, if you would rather.

BRANDO

I had never seen today's notorious Best Film

Last Tango in Paris (1972)

Of course, I had heard 'all' about it. It is remembered for its barrier breaking anal sex. I had heard about the he-on-she bit with the butter but not the she-on-he bit without the butter. Heroic.

Funny that they only 'remember' her taking it up the ass and not him.

That mentioned and disposed of, I have to say that the film is deeply engaging.

Brando is a force of nature.

Some believe that this is his last 'good' performance but I think that, more to the point, it is his last smoldering young/youngish man performance and most critics never forgave him for getting old; let alone fat.

He was a great actor to the very end.

The production is magnificent. There is always something to see and savor.

The photography is beautifully done and the shots are quite innovative.

A lot is done with Metro trains. Basic symbols, no?

It has (a great surprise) my favorite Frenchie Jean-Pierre Léaud in a 'small' role. He is, as always, a treat.

I thought that the film was about a lot of things but mostly growing old. Brando's need to coarsen and deprave sex to get 'excited' is not an unknown symptom of lost libido. You gotta amp it up.

The last tango idea is summed up in a great tango hall/contest sequence in the end.

So.

A lot of the enjoyment is of the 'you gotta be there' variety.

I was there. I enjoyed it. I will give it a 5 out of Netflix 5.

The link at the title is a double barreled Ebert review; in 1972 when the film comes out and 1995, when it was reissued.

IN LOCO IMMIGRATION

Here is a great article in the LATimes about the immigration issue in general and it specifically uses our Valley and our Representative, Mary Bono, to illustrate some of the realities.

On Border Issue, Bono Looks for Middle Ground

The developer, Wessman, who is mentioned, is a voracious builder in the valley. We regard him as the enemy.

On the other hand, he has the points when it comes to the need for workers by what seem to be the exploiters and the need for work by the exploited. In fact, the wage base for such skilled workers is pretty good.

It is a very complicated and difficult problem.

Today, our governator 'wrote' a very good Wall Street Journal op-ed on the generalities but pleaded for a humanitarian attitude in government action; not criminalizing the undocumented.

It is a hot button issue for sure.

WAIT!

I enter my third week of weight reduction today.

Appropriately, I think, I have just re-entered the 150's as a celebration.

On that basis, I am losing about three pounds a week which is just what most weight-loss experts recommend as the optimum.

I can see a difference. That is the best thing. I can also feel it.

There isn't the same 'tightness' around the middle when the belt gets tightened. A little less love handle.

This is good.

The eating plan is working. I decided to go half on all the usual foods that I would eat anyway.

I am a little hungry in the afternoon but it is not uncomfortable. Especially given the positive results seen thus far.

The halfway-measures diet.

Maybe I should write a book!

MACHINA

This is a series of fantastic home made devices that deliver an irritating commercial message.

Incredible Machines

They make the old Rube Goldberg machines or the new devices they had in the United Terminal at Logan Airport look amateurish.

Stay with it. They get 'better' as they go.

Some are exquisitely timed to the music.

Everything is done with everyday items.

Well, more or less every day.

And the 'tricks' outweigh any irritation with the minimal message.

I got it through Internet Weekly

GANGSTA'

Today's NYTimes Best 1176 Film was

Little Caesar (1931)

This is another obvious niche-pick on the part of the Best Film critics.

It is the uber-gangster film of the thirties; the font from which all others flowed.

Edward G. Robinson who patented the movie thug is here proving that the 'Peter Principle' is as true in crime as in business. He goes up and then down and then out.

The movie is a brief 79 minutes and it is packed with action; very high energy.

We see Douglas Fairbanks Jr. as an moderately suave half thug. He and Robinson smolder. There is a lot of homo-erotic energy throughout this film and manliness is its theme. Very interesting.

I liked it a lot. It is a good restoration although it seems that a few scenes have barely survived, the majority of it is in very good shape.

I liked it.

I will give it a 4 out of Netflix5 just for the Robinson performance. He is quite good.

Robinson was an interesting actor. He was not handsome. He was small in size. He had some alarming speech patterns. But he made a lot of films and was always the center of the screen when he was on.

He might be a Bruce Willis type today; without the sex appeal. But then sex appeal is so individually derived. Maybe others got it and I did not.

There was certainly a lot of sexy energy in his work in this film.

WHAT WOULD GARRY WILLS DO?

He would get Jesus out of politics:

Christ Among the Partisans

I don't much care what they do, actually, as long as they let me alone and don't fuck with my country.

But, they have, so I do.

BILL WINS AGAIN

John Aravosis in AMERICAblog:

Bush's popularity has been dropping from the day he was elected

He shows the poll numbers for four presidents: Poppy, Ronnie, Bill, and georgie.

Bill wins all.

I told you.

TEN POINTS

Someone who commented to my note about Demos getting tough asked for the Dems to come up with four succinct points that would get them elected.

Here is John Kerry's ten:

Tell the truth. Fire the incompetents. Find Osama bin Laden and secure our ports and our homeland. Bring our troops home from Iraq. Obey the law and protect our civil rights," Mr. Kerry said in ticking off his list, which also included supporting health care, education, lobbying reform and alternatives to oil, as well as reducing the deficit.

Kerry is hitting a lot harder. Maybe he is figuring out that he should have done this prior to the election.

TURN FOR THE WORSE

Overnight my throat cold did a U-turn and landed in my eyes and nose.

I guess my success in turning it away was limited to direction and not force.

So, today, I am carrying a paper towel most of the time. Blotting away.

It doesn't feel great but with any luck I will be better in a few days.

You know how it is with a cold.

With the medication it will be over in only seven days. Without it would take a week.

You are only treating symptoms anyway. And not that very well.

BUSHWAH

Today's NYTimes Best Film was

Lives of a Bengal Lancer (1935)

After using this 'Best' list for awhile, one begins to infer a method to the sometimes apparent madness of individual selections.

There has to have been a sort of forced choice system for genré films. Within that, there must have been a quota for older, colonial, epic, adventures and this has to have fallen into the niche.

Gary Cooper and Franchot Tone (I used to like him a lot. He died early) improbably play rebellious Bengal Lancers; a batallion of peacekeepers in colonial India.

Cooper was a looker and there is a very long sequence with him shirtless (for those who care). Buff.

It starts a bit slow and we didn't like the characters very much.

And the values are skewed off our standards here.

It is not unlike what you still see today in Iraq. Westerners trying to keep the evil wogs in line, don't you know?

John did his indignant walkout very early and I almost ditched the film but then stayed with it.

It got better as the action increased.

This is the kind of film that Abbott and Costello and The Three Stooges had so much fun with. It is eminently mockable. And I have seen too many mocks.

"We have ways of making men talk" is an actual line.

Well they do. Bamboo shoots under the nails set afire. Ouch. Two out of three do not talk though.

It is interesting to note that where today we would see the nails coming off and burning, here, it required actual acting to convey the horror of it. I like this old-fashioned method.

The film does have a lot of good character actors: C. Aubrey Smith, Akim Tamiroff, J. Carrol Naish and others. Fun to watch that way.

At best this is a 3 out of Netflix5 but I will give it a 2.

COUGH COUGH

I have a small cold.

That means that I have had a sore throat for a couple of days and now there is a light congestion in my nose.

A heavy cold would have me weeping and hocking up the phlegm.

Sorry. TMI

I use echanacea capsules and zinc losenges. Then, at the crucial moment, the coup de grâce, with Robitussin DM expectorant and cough suppressant.

I didn't mention the Claritin or Allegra which I am mostly always taking for my sinus and allergies.

I sound like a pillhead, huh?

Not really.

The zinc is gone with the DM. The echanacea will be over tomorrow. It did its thing by lightening the force of the cold.

Hey, I believe it; so even if it is a placebo, it works, right?

And the DM is only today, probably. Maybe through tonight.

I pass this on as a public service.

Everyone has their own cure.

When I was on the road, I managed to get most of the 172 cold viruses that are out there. Now, they say that there are over 200. And some of them are mutating. So, my antibodies are not what they used to be.

Shit.

WSJ?OTD

"Would you see a movie about the Sept. 11 attacks?"

NO.

Once is enough.

Take a look. It is hard enough to look at this picture.

I also think that it is shameless pandering.

To say nothing of fanning the flames of over-the-top anti-terrorism; stoking the fear in the masses.

And so on.

I don't disagree with their right to do it though.

Maybe some people need more catharsis. How much can you do?

Some of the families are still stuck in the process.

I saw the trailer for the United whatever, the one that crashed in Pennsylvania.

I didn't like the queasy feeling of it all.

How do you spell exploitation?

The other respondents said 66% NO; 34% YES.