esrosedotblog

It is very difficult to make a film which appears to be a genuine documentary but is not.

I suppose that I ruined this for you but still. That is one of the many victories of Getting Go: The Go Go Doc Project

A young videographer finds a subject in the life of a go go dancer.

Before long he becomes part of that life. Or the dancer becomes part of his. Whatever.

Art becomes life becomes art again.

This is a beautifully rendered film which succeeds on so many levels, including surprise, that it is hard to describe it.

In the process of filming the dancer, the filmer falls for the guy and visa versa. Objectivity gives way to a relationship.

Or does it?

Another thing about this film which, of course is gay, is that it shows things I have never seen before in a film. I have seen them in real life back in the day. I notice they are still going on. The life in the bars and discos. The 4AM life, the separate community of people who live there.

The star is the kid who was in Were The World Mine, and is produced by the same people. The go go dancer is a very complicated guy and the whole thing seems so real that I wanted to enter the story with them. That is the whole point of a film, yes?

Can you tell that I liked this very much? Since I bought the DVD (you cannot rent it) will see it again. And again.

That makes it a 5 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films, gay films

I spent considerable time this morning on my DVD library.

The gay one. Not the other stuff.

I am not sure why I did this as the discs are all stored nicely in one of those binders with envelope pages and are easily accessible.

I guess I just like to list shit.

They are not even in alphabetical order because that makes no sense to the problem a list will solve.

Namely, what do I have and where is it in the big DVD album?. I can use "find" to locate it in the list and then go get the disc.

The other thing is that it fulfills my occasional need to get the fuck organized.

It almost does not matter what is getting organized. It just the process of doing it. Somehow more moral and upright. More systematic. Less random in my doings.

But the fact is that when I pick out a DVD to play, it is on a whim. I have no Netflix to watch or I am sick of the straight sensibility. Or I really need some down and dirty gay sex.

Actually never the latter. For down and dirty gay sex there are the web sites which play even the nastiest pornography, often at no cost, but usually with a small fee which makes it seem less indulgent. Like going to a prostitute. The fact that I am paying for it, well, I don't know. I never went to a prostitute.

These films in my library are not really porn anyway. They even include a few NPR classics. It is just that they are gay and that is where they belong. In a file of their own. Like us. You know that I am doubtful about assimilation and this is one reason. If it is inconvenient for DVDs it is even more so with people who look alike gay or straight. It helps to know where they live. Like Palm Springs. 40% chance, basic.

I have very few nongay DVDs. Mostly a few comedy collections. An old movie or 2.

There is really point buying DVDs as long as they are available from Netflix and I believe that Netflix will endure everything. Even if the disc dies, they will have on line films. And if they don't someone else will. Amazon has a decent collection.

But the gay DVDs are evanescent. They make a bunch of them and that is it. Get 'em while they're hot.

Erotica does not bear a lot of repeating either artful or soft pornographic.

Labels: DVD, pornography

I gave up plastic bags a long time ago.

Soon everyone here will have to do it.

California Closes In On Plastic Bag Bans

So I am an early adopter. That doesn't make me a "good person", better than anyone else. I don't suffer from the malady of "holier than thou" when it comes to things like this. Maybe other things but that is another story.

It is just a simple thing to buy canvas reusables and take them to the store whenever I go. Whenever. Even if there are a couple of things. Although I often falter on the quick stop off for a last minute thing. Then I try just not to take a bag when a handful works fine.

There is so much wrong with plastic bags I can't tell you. And anyway you know already.

There are some stores that have nothing else. Non-grocery stores. I don't take my canvas bags there. I don't like it but that is the only option to walking out with eight little items in my hands. They should be included in this too.

They now have paper re-usable some places. I have not seen them. I don't think I would go for it.

The canvas works fine. The other thing about them is that they are easy to load. No wire frames holding them open. Just open and load. Get the heavy ones. You only buy once. Make it good.

Oh! And what is more about the canvas, they have handles. You can carry them easily. OK?Here they are. Ready to buy. I don't get a commission.

Labels: conservation

When I was a kid, they had short films, "shorts", before the main feature.

I am doing the same right now.

I bought a DVD of the ten minute shorts that Robert Benchley made in the forties. I remember seeing them when I was a kid.

Benchley was what was then called a "humorist". He was not a comedian. He wrote serious humor for serious magazines and was noted for his wit and wisdom.

I am so happy to find these little works.

Today, Benchley told about the ways that a husband could be helpful around the house. A little talk from a desk with little demos to show how it should be done. Of course, none of the situations work out. That does not stop Benchley from acting the expert.

He was particularly good at this wise fool thing.

This one is not in the collection.

Labels: comedy

I wrote recently about the arrival of a lizard on the wall outside our condo, the north windows.

It was the first time I had seen one so busy around the house. We used to have them all the time at the old house.

Exciting.

Now, this morning, a new arrival.

There is a baby in the bathroom. Or was.

He scampered around and hid under the roll-around shelf we have in there.

I hoped to catch him and let him out but that is not in the cards. He is too fast.

So now there is a lizard inside too.

Oh boy.

Not my hand. Not my lizard. But about this size.

Soon, there will be a dog in the house. That will probably be the end of any lizards who live in here.

But I will let that be between them and I will stay out of it.

Labels: condo, nature

I wanted to see another film by Alan Brown (Five Dances, Superheroes and Private Romeo).

I am not sorry I did but I didn't think much of it. The other films are much better.

Here there is a complicated plot where a 16 year old boy/man falls in love with an older woman. Her husband teaches at a girls' school. There is no husband side here. Girls have crushes on him but the wife is the one to go out of bounds with the young man. The girls are, I suppose, a counterweight. He is good she is bad? Don't know.

It is kind of forced. The whole business.

The acting is good but there is too little glue to hold it all together.

I would say a good tryout for a new director.

There is a gay subtext. Wrestling between the boy and the teacher when they go on a vacation to Disney World, all together. What? That kind of improbability wears thin after awhile. Anyway the boy gets an unmistakable hard on. He would probably fuck the husband too.

See what I mean?

Then there is Viet Nam which figures into the husband's story but gets played out by the young man. Jesus.

I think it is pretty well documented that Brown is gay. He does gay films. He tries here to get heteros to play out a gay script. It would have actually made more sense if everyone was queer.

I saw it through but barely and so it is a 2 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

The old norm was snark from the Europeans towards Americans.

They have looked down on us for some time. This was particularly so while our economic situation was in sad shape.

Now the shoe is on the other foot.

European Economy Tries to Find Its Way

I don't much get into economics. Particularly the global kind. But I do get into how nations treat each other and am interested in national attitudes and stereotypes.

The French are old players in the drama of "better than" and this is apparent even when a waiter finds out you are an American. Your treatment changes immediately. And even if you speak flawless French, I hear, you are going to get the snot.

I used to train internationally. The French were always a problem with the Germans right after. Nothing American could be worth spending three days on learning.

I learned how to set them all on their superior asses quite quickly. The key is to never shrink from a jibe or jeer or veiled attack under an innocent sounding question.

So, it is still in me. Nice to see the tide turn some.

Of course, I do not revel in others' misery. Real people are involved here.

But economies go up and economies go down and the proud are as likely to be victimized by it as anyone else.

It is nice though to see them squirm; Angela Merkel and whoever the current French guy is particularly.

Labels: economy, europe

This is an old story with no new twists.

The kind that old men tell over and over. Even if you say you have heard it before, you are going to hear it again.

Orion is up in the eastern morning sky.

He has been gone for awhile. It is still a thrill each year.

When I was a kid, our science teacher organized some weekly star watches. They lasted for two weeks. Only one other kid and I showed up. Richard H. who followed me to MIT the year after. We didn't bond there. Another story.

But the first constellation I ever saw was Orion. It is easy. The easiest. You look up and there he is. The familiar shape.

I do not remember any of the other constellations. I cannot even find the North Star. Never could.

Basically, because I don't give a shit about it all.

Why this one thing? Probably Mr. Ravelli. My first boyhood crush. I was one of his pets.

He was a smoker so I and a few others would get to "monitor" the class while he went down to have a smoke with Frank Blitz the building janitor and Ed Bosman the math teacher. They all reeked of tobacco smoke all the time. Tough to be a teacher that smokes. Especially now. Tough to be a smoker anywhere.

Anyway, Al Ravelli got in trouble with a girl in the class ahead of me. My Dad was on the School Board so I knew a lot more about it than I should have. Very upsetting. For all the reasons you might guess although I couldn't at the time.

He packed up and left town. I never heard from him again.

But I do hear about Orion. Or see him. Every year. And I remember the night on the hill with Al. Romantic, right? No. But a little sad. Bittersweet. Almost like a french movie.

Sublimation.

I couldn't have Al but I still have the guy in the sky.

Labels: astronomy, crushes

I finished seeing

La meglio gioventù / The Best of Youth (2003)

This is the second time through. I am buying the DVD so I can watch it again in a while.

Some years in the Sixties and some people who are living through them. A couple of generations. Two brothers and a sister. Contrasts.

This is a great film and well worth the investment of time and emotion.

I am wiped out from the experience. And I sort of knew how it comes out. I will tell you. It comes out as life does.

How is that?

I am so fortunate to live at a time when this kind of experience can be had with a simple slide of a disc into a computer.

I am not much for going to the movies anymore. I hate the talking and recoil at the smell of popcorn.

But the invention of the DVD came just in time for me.

In this wonderful film there is time to get to know the people and how they interlace with each other's lives. How they live in what, indeed, were very special times.

This is a five on top of five rating. Beyond excellent. Always surprising and engaging even on the nth viewing.

Labels: films

We have not had a strong earthquake in some time.

This is a good thing, I suppose, but I still have that yen to shake a little. It is an easterner's thing. A search for the exotic in the new country.

I check every day to see what is going on. The USGS (Geodetic Survey) shows all the latest data here.

Well, not all of it. Just Palm Springs. But you can get the world shakes on the same sites.

I suppose this is a foolish and ill conceived wish. Perhaps related to a death wish in a teensy way.

This wish for a tremor may say more about me than it does the earthquake situation.

But I think everyone has a little bit of lust for danger. Otherwise, quiet boring lives.

An earthquake is nothing like a hurricane but the excitement of anticipation is similar. In a way we never know/knew what the hurricane would do either. Veer into us? Go away into the Atlantic? A cliff hanger from nature.

So I wait.

Just a moderate shake would be enough.

Every one has one.

The drawer that has all the stuff in it that you might need someday.

I just emptied mine.

You have no idea. Nor did I.

There was an incredible collection of important items that I no longer used. If I remembered about them at all.

Here are a few of the things that were (past-tense) in there.

Three or four pairs of old glasses. Four or five of those special plugs that convert 110V to DC. Adaptors.

There were several old phones. A couple of hard disc drives. Added memory no longer required with the latest iProducts.

There were some maps.

Some odd stationery items.

Sunglasses.

A few instruction books for things I no longer have.

Blah blah blah. You get the point.

I just took a substantial amount of it to the trash. There is way too much room in the drawer now.

In the drawer below there is my old laptop which I am not ready to let go of although I think I did throw out its adaptor cord. And there is the latest phone. The one that was lost and then found the day after I bought its replacement.

My god we accumulate a lot of shit.

Labels: life

As fans of the desert, particularly Death Valley, we had wondered about this.

Death Valley Sailing Stones

These stones have trails. You can see it. But they are obviously not moving. And no one has seen them move.

Until, now, by accident, some scientists found the answer to the puzzle in a wild moment of serendipity.

You will have to read the article. Can you guess?

Nature is a mother.

Labels: desert, nature

There is a wonderful web site that takes a sex census of gay men.

And a whole lot more.

Where do you fit in?

Let's get the suspense over right away. I am off the charts as the survey stops at 70 years of age but at that demographic, it turns out, that I am a "Daddy".

No surprises there. I have been labeled a "Daddy" from the get go. Which, if you consider the situation, is rather appropriate. I do have five kids after all!

But that is not one of the questions here.

I also edge into the "muscle bear" category. I would not put myself there at all. But it is a nice thing nonetheless. Thanks! I do go to the gym. But I am not what I would have thought of as a bear. Although others do think this. We never know much about ourselves, huh?

Other odds and ends. I would be "hottest" in Dallas Texas. Game over there. Not a chance. I have been in Dallas.

After that, Baltimore and Philadelphia. Been there done that.

Least desirable in Melbourne! Alert to my family there, it might have passed on in the genes but data says otherwise. (wink).

Also not much doing for me in Columbus, Ohio or London, England. I was just in London. I wondered why I didn't get many second looks. Shit.

Of much more critical interest to many gay men is the subject of top or bottom. In my experience this is sheer obfuscation. Note the paradox. Sheer/Obfuscation. The apparent revelation of a fact with a resultant confusion. I put in that I was versatile but the fact is that I have always most enjoyed being other "versatile" men with an emphasis on timely play. No roles. No positions. No expectations. No plans. No tops. No bottoms. Just the dance.

I can tell you that this is by far the best approach if you can see your way into it. Do not play that game.

By the time two men are finished with such a discussion the game is over. No further surprises. No excitement. No mystery. And no experimentation means no fun.

Now, admittedly, I have been out of the game for decades so my comments on the subject are limited to the experience with one man. And, with the approach of maturity (!), experience is more along the line of how to find love without all the hoo hah in the first place. That is the real challenge.

Now, for the sake of home and health I should stop my comments.

Labels: gay sex

I waited a long time before I took the plunge again.

I am watching one of the best movies I have ever seen. It is so fulfilling. I am in heaven.

La meglio gioventù / The Best of Life (2003)

I don't know why I have not bought this film.

But I will.

It is the story of an Italian family over a period of time from the Sixties to the present day.

Two sons, a father and mother. The sons choose different paths. One a doctor and a bit of a political radical. The other becomes a cop.

There are no words to capture the warmth of this movie. And, I must add, that is a good thing because it is six hours long.

I watched the first third today and will finish it up in the next two days.

Oh. It is a 5 out of Netflix5. The best.

There are many versions of this film. Even two hours. Another four. Sacrilege. The full six hours. The only way.

Labels: films

I have never understood suicides.

The idea scares me. It seems a weird combination of moral lapse (the methodist boy inside me) and destruction of the ego. A destruction so profound that the whole subject eludes me. The self erases the self.

I escape to denial and sublimation.

But today, Irving Penn's portrait of Robin Williams suddenly appeared in the latest issue of The New Yorker.

There he was. Undeniably him with all the genius parts visible. The vulnerability. The nakedness.

Then it all hit me. A delayed reaction. The sadness. The shock. The impossibility of life ended so radically.

The despair that must have lain behind that intelligence, the talent.

There is nothing to say. I will stop.

At my age I have learned that no death can be explained in a satisfactory way. It is the great puzzle.

Why does it happen? Where do we go? What happens next? It is outside our living experience entirely. No living person has ever been able to explain it to me. And the dead do not speak.

Once again, I am flummoxed.

So, I just have the feelings. I look into the face for answers and the only thing I find is the great life the image celebrates. He was here. Now he is gone. God bless him for it all.

Labels: death, life

I am making more of this than I want to.

But new the phone works fine. I went and got it today and guess what?

The first calls were made and, almost simultaneously, I found the old phone. It had fallen down between car seats where "no one" would ever look.

So now I have two.

You probably saw that coming. I didn't.

I had already taken the time to transfer the address book to the new one. So now I have two complete phones. One has been disabled because a new chip is in the new phone but that is a formality. I can easily get the old phone working with a simple download at the AT&T store. Who, I might add, have been superb about the whole thing.

Well, they should be. They sold a new device. They are devices now. Mobile devices. But the only got 14 dollars for their trouble with me. They have done better than that today, I am sure.

It is a cheap phone and does nothing but make and receive calls. It will text but I don't do that although John is talking about sending me texts when he goes to Europe in a week. Sicily.

I will not text. Ever. It is not found in my religious beliefs. Indeed, we are anti texting. Not even on a week day or on the day you can eat fish. Or something. But I don't picket or lobby about it. Those who want to text will text and there is nothing to done about them. Except not participate. And to not give a fuck about texting at all. Even the ones I get. I always call back. Voice. I am a tough nut to crack.

Labels: phone

I am not sure that I should be looking at a cartoon about old people.

Particularly when it seems true and frank and clear right down to the core of it.

And a cartoon! Many eons from Mickey Mouse.

Wrinkles (2012)

It was hard to watch and, at the same time, very cleansing.

This film puts it all out on the table. The good, the bad and, well it is all kind of ugly but not always.

I think that the animation allows a certain reality. Ironic, that. There are no actors mincing around pretending to be geezers.

This is an Argentine film. The thing takes place in an old age "home" so there is a certain cast to it which I think is not in our/my future. Somehow we have made a transition from "homes" to home with at-home help. If you go to a home it is a nursing home and it is because you must have nursing. These people are not there yet. That happens "upstairs". The dread end point for the terminally sick and the demented.

This is a very good film. The animation is superbly done. Not at all "life-like", that wouldn't work. But stylized in a way that keeps a strong connection to reality.

I do not want to see this again. Once is enough. But that is more because I am living out my own wrinkles and do not need any reinforcement. I should put a smiley face next to that. I am not really in a downer about the film or being an old fart.

A 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: aging, cartoons

Our "home" was and is always Provincetown MA.

We went there for years and in various configurations. We rented a second floor house for the summer, right on the beach. When we bought a house in Boston, we couldn't afford that so we went as often as we could and stayed at an inn on the East End.

This film based on drone photography brought tears to our eyes.

The quality of video is so improved.

I felt I could reach out and touch it.

We rented a place right in the center of town for six years. Near that big pier. Across from the Congo Church.

I can smell the bay.

The large crowds are there on Pride day. The big parade. Normally, busy but easy to navigate, we would do Commercial Street from one end to the other almost daily. Never a dull moment.

Blow it up to big full screen size.

Labels: home, provincetown

More photography in a sort of nonverbal day.

We have become addicted to pistachios.

This photo is unachievable in the real world.

As one peels a nut there is no way to stop the hand from ascending to the mouth, the nut from entering the oral cavity where it is automatically chewed and swallowed.

Followed by a sigh.

I cannot imagine the self restraint that it took to gather all these shelled pistachios in one bowl.

I would guess handcuffs were used on staff and photographer. Nose push to snap the shutter.

Click on the image to bring it within life size. Drool.

Labels: culture, food

I am told that Europe is a continent.

But it is also a lot of other things.

In the interest of our edification, I present:

Europes

I have no idea what the title means but then Europe doesn't mean one thing either.

I have been to Europe. Some parts of it. And right away we have to ask whether going to England is the same as going to Europe. Is the UK a part of Europe?

Yes and no. Go look at the Europes.

When it comes right down to it, I have been to France and Germany. Scandinavia various parts. I ate reindeer meat. It made me ill. Dancer and Prancer.

I am not bragging about all this travel. I went where the work took me and, I must admit, I had a limited curiosity about any of the countries other than the peculiarities of their conference centers.

I am not proud of this ignorance. But I am not ashamed either. It is sort of like I don't give a shit.

Sad but true.

Besides, there are too many Europes to handle.

Labels: geopolitics

Somehow, I lost my mobile phone today.

Like a lot of other people, you might say, "how did you do that?".

May I submit that is a dumb question?

If I knew how I lost it, I wouldn't have.

But it is lost. With all its numbers and shit.

Poor me.

So I got motivated and activated.

What else?

I went to ATT and got me a new clamshell. Not the cheapest but close.

I am using it already and have put in three or four contact numbers.

It is fine.

I had a good salesman. He got very quickly that I was not interested in the screens, the smart stuff.

A clamshell.

Of course, I lost all my numbers. That is a chore. But there were also a lot of junk numbers in it too. Yards and yards of them.

Now I have another clamshell that doesn't even have a brand name on it. It works fine.

The photo is of the actual phone. It is a "non contract" phone even though I have a contract. I guess.

I do not pay much attention to the whole phone thing. Basic service. Period.

As I go, I am adding contacts. Easy peasy.

Then, I had the dentist. Cleaning. No cavities.

No need to report on this except that, yes, it was a new hygienist. He can't keep people worth shit. And I won't go to the one guy who may not even be there anymore but that is OK because I liked this one. Fine.

A big day so far. Can it be over soon?

Labels: dentist, phone

At our old house, we always had a wide selection of animals.

Little ones. Snakes. Rabbits. Raccoons. The whole spectrum of desert life.

And always, always, always, lizards in the walls. Up down and sideways.

We had to say goodbye to all these little friends.

Because this is a condo, a neatly separated set of units notwithstanding, there is no room for the wild and wooly.

We have seen signs of visitations but not much actual wildlife. There are walls. There is only one entrance. It is not easy to get in here.

But today, a lizard. A good sized one, on the stucco wall outside our living room. Running around and when he was done, going into a sizable crack in the separating stone work.

This is great.

Welcome, little friend.

Labels: animals, condo

I watch a lot of movies and really appreciate the documentaries.

Among these, the work of Frederick Wiseman is at the pinnacle. Interesting, beautifully filmed and most of all, totally without narration.

Talk about your "show don't tell". This is Wiseman all over.

For two days, a long one. Over four hours. Two sessions worth.

At Berkeley (2013)

It is a totally involving study of life on the famous campus. And it is not anything at all what I would expect.

I am very interested in universities. I interview students for my own school. I love to see the process.

What Wiseman has done is to show it all and, surprisingly, keep it at the human level throughout. These are weighty goings on here. But he never leaves the earth with it.

I learned a lot. I got to see stuff which was quite surprising for such a documentary. Street repair on the campus? Riveting.

I think that what makes these documentaries work is that they are filled with the juice of life.

I really enjoyed the experience and while I would be willing to see it all again, I will wait until I am invited. Still that is all is needed for a 4 out of 5 rating.

Labels: college, films

I normally do not watch commercials.

I let them slide by and work on cleaning my desk or checking the DVD of the day. Anything else.

But these really catch me. Hilarious.

I used to work a lot with marketing people. They would kill to have the impact that these do.

For one thing, they mock the shallowness of marketing science. Doomed.

I worked with focus groups and charged big clients a lot of money to have consumers work on their problems. Big money.

And, in the end, I don't think that this work made a piddle of difference.

I do not feel guilty about this. Most companies deserve to be fleeced. I was there to do it.

Here is another one of these.

This one is pretty good too.

An ethnically ambiguous mascot!!

Hah.

Dumb bastards.

I knew guys like that.

And that was 1965 or so. They are still out there. Still in position with their heads up their asses.

Labels: business, marketing

I am not a particular Dolly Parton fan but I can remember her songs on the jukebox at Sporters, a long gone deeply mourned gay bar.

Frisson. Every time.

"Here you come again."

Holy shit. A gay anthem of regret and happiness all in one simple song.

I find that I am not the only gay boy who liked Dolly. Look at this.

Dollywood, a Little Bit Country and a Little Bit Gay

She is a universal gay icon which makes the whole Dollywood thing even more delicious. All those Southern Baptists haven't a clue. Or maybe they do.

I have always suspected the buttoned up choirboys (I was one) and the well behaved young men of some hidden sins which bend in my direction.

Should I mention that I am married to one of that kind of southern boy. Even though he was not a baptist boy in the practicing sense, his roots in country are as deep as mine.

But mine extend down in hillbilly soil. Appalachia.

And there is Dolly. Overdressed, and over the top with the emotion. She learned from the drag queens, just as we all did whether we liked it or not. They fed us their glorious spinach. Let it all out girl.

It brings tears to my eyes. So much. So much. In just one little song and songbird.

Labels: gay heroes, gay life, music

It isn't often that pop music yields a beautiful ode to numbers.

But Kate Bush did it.

Beautifully.

I am reminded of this because Ms. Bush is giving a live concert in London, the first one in 35 years. Be sure to look at all the pictures at the link. She is a diva.

If you want to sing along, here are the lyrics.

I have never heard this before even though I am familiar with Ms. Bush' work.

All the more reason to love her.

It would be nice to know who this man is and if he went to MIT!

Labels: mathematics, music

Obama has guts.

Today he faced down the critics, did his job and then went on about his business which, right now, is a much needed vacation.

But there is a lot of whinging about it. An opportunity for the haters to hate.

A Terrorist Horror then Golf Incongruity Fuels Obama Critics

Well, shit. All the Presidents do this. They have to compartmentalize.

It is tragic that a life was lost horribly in Iraq. Nothing will be served by play acting a time of grief or horror or whatever. This is what the terrorists want!

And it amazes me that so many people fall right into it. Obama has not. God bless him.

They said he was soft and squishy.

Hah! He is tough and resolute and unbending in the face of these bastards and all their tricks.

More power to him.

Long may he wave.

He is the man I thought he was and has proved it continually. At home, overseas. He is a no bullshit President.

Labels: obama, terrorism

I am not sure where I heard about today's movie.

Super Heroes (2007)

but it must have slipped into obscurity almost immediately upon release.

A young film geek meets an Iraq War veteran while filming a therapy group.

Two extremes. The film is mostly about their relationship which, as it turns out, is doomed.

I liked the film a lot and as a coming of age film it has some very hard and often dark lessons for the young film maker.

It is impossible to find a review of this anywhere. It came and went direct to DVD where it sits today. At least Netflix has it.

Every once in awhile a film like this one comes along, unseen and totally unappreciated. I guess the war is over.

Directed by Alan Brown noted for some pretty good gay films, this one is probably one of the lesser ones.

I do not think I could even buy it if I wanted.

It is rather good if very bleak.

A 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films, gay films

It is back to normal today after my five day vacation.

I skipped the gym. A long weekend. But we went food shopping.

I will have a movie later today. I am writing in the blog.

There has been some minimal Board business for the condo association. A mild dip into it.

I was ready to return. I am not too good at prolonged periods of time away.

I had been Back East and to London earlier in the summer and this one was my beach time. No one to see. No one to talk to.

I did do the internet which is mildly diverting when there is nothing else to do but easy to drop to go see the sunset or go out on the other side and go watch the fishermen return.

The other walking alone in the morning yields sunrise in a wide open sky, a lot of birds, occasional sightings of seals cavorting and other surprises. The naval air base across the way is now inactive. There were some helicopters up and down. Training? But a shadow of its former self. And not many ships this time. One very large freighter when I arrived but nothing ever came back. We were on the main entrance to San Diego Bay.

There are a lot of sightseeing boats though. Fishermen. And fish. My god what do they do with all the fish? One boat, three guys, maybe 20 two or three foot fish. I hope that they do not go to waste. They sure were photographed to a fair-thee-well.

I did a lot of watching the marina from my deck. People coming and going. Some hot to look at. The weather is shirts off. I realized that a number of people sleep on these boats. They take in food and supplies. They are obviously bedding down for the night.

I do not know if this is a boater fantasy come to life or a sign of the genteel poor. No money for a house but with the boat, a place to sleep.

San Diego Bay, at my end, is a beautiful place and as far from the desert environment as you could get.

I will go back next year for sure.

Here is half my daily walk. My place is up at the far end of the dog leg. I would walk down here and then later walk to the other side all the way up to the main highway. My feet hurt today. A good hurt. I do not do that much walking. It will be good training for the imminent dog.

Can you wonder why I love this place so much?

Labels: shelter island, vacation

I was no more back and a bit settled than this hit.

Blowing Dust, Strong Winds in Coachella Valley

Try the video in the article to see the force of it.

They say La Quinta but it was all through the valley. And over in an hour or two.

I have said this before. The desert is a world of extremes. It is now quiet and sunny as we await the next surprise which could be tomorrow or, perhaps, three months from now.

I had never seen quite the force of this before. Dust storms yes but total obscurity as we saw while we went out for dinner, safe inside, was new.

This is just one more reason to love the desert. One special thing about it is that these things are so easy to see. We have the mountain in the west and then the desert. Clear to a far horizon on the north and forever on the east and south.

A lot of times you can see this stuff coming.

Then it hits. Then it is gone.

Haboob!

Labels: desert, dust, weather

I was sent back from San Diego this morning. The Bay Club Hotel and Marina.

I tried to talk them into keeping me but the only openings were for busboy at the less busy times.

In fact, most times are less busy this time of year which is a mystery to me as it is the peak of perfection for a boy from the desert.

I had virtually the same room. Second floor, mid hall. On the marina side. I watched other people's boats and some of the other people as they did what boat people do which, as far as I can tell, isn't a whole fuck of a lot sailing.

These are mostly power boats but enough sail to make it seem a little more dramatic.

On the Bay side, a lot more excitement. All the way from US Navy ships returning to the, now almost fully decommissioned, base there to the smaller, faster boats now in fashion. Kayaks. A bunch of those. Labor intensive and scrunched up. Your ass has to be within narrower bounds than a couple of people I saw.

A lot of the boats are for fishing. I watch them go out in the morning and come back at night. Some with a lot of fish. What do they do with them? Well, take a lot of photos of themselves for a start.

I got there on Sunday which is a good day to drive as most of the traffic is going the other way. It is still a little fraught at intersections of major routes but I have to remember that some people survive much worse on a daily basis.

I left this morning after the rush and the whole thing took a couple of hours without a sweat.

Home in time for a lunch and a nap and now sort of back to normal. Fortunately it is Thursday, Date Night. We are off to Al Dente. I have had no Italian cuisine on this trip. Fish, more fish and then some seafood. All fresh of course.

They have redecorated the Bay Club Hotel and it is very nice. The people are the same.

Morning walks each day before breakfast then another in the other direction while they clean my room. My legs are tired. I am not used to that much walking.

The weather was fine, not gorgeous. Cloudy at times and a little rumbly and even a few drops last night on the deck.

I am glad to be home and happy to be able to go each year to this place that has so much of a strong feeling for me. Weights go off, the air around me expands and I am close to water once more. I do not miss it until I get on the other side and can see it in the distance. Then I am right there getting filled up for another year.

Labels: vacation

We all had a boy of summer.

The Boy of Summer

The boy who we had to look at. The one who, in the locker room, had the musculature and attitude we craved to have. For ourselves and for our selves. The boy who had the package that somehow created magical and painful feelings in our chest and later "down there".

Over the years I collected them. In college. During my married life.

And then, I cracked.

I had done enough reading, there had been enough consciousness raising, enough brave souls came out and forged a path for the rest of us.

And that boy with in me emerged. I became the one that was looked at. The availability of heart and soul became obvious to others similarly blessed. We could see each other. Invisible, often, to the rest of the world.

And over the years more of us became visible and took part in life around us.

What a wonderful story.

Labels: gay life

Some might ask, "why does a retired person need a vacation?".

And it is a good question. The answer I think lies in the word "retire". This means that there is much less stimulation in life in general. No work problems, no change of scenes (unless you are chained to a desk). No wide variety of problems and, most of all, people. One's geography shrinks. The psyche shrivels.

I have done pretty well to keep busy and do stuff I always wanted but work interceded. I am on the Board of my condo association. I do this blog. I am in touch with people a lot in my Program of recovery. I sponsor some, hang out a bit with others.

But it gets stale. The summertime is also endlessly hot which is OK but keeps us inside much as a New England winter will. Middays mostly. But I will take the hot summer, thanks very much.

So, I go away.

This year I have two vacations. The first is done but it was a working vacation. A trip to Boston, London and Toronto all to visit with friends and virtually no down time.

This up-coming trip will have down down down time. Not that I will be sitting on my ass all the while. In fact, there will be more physical activity than normal and it will be good for me.

For example, my walking chops are not in the best shape. The absence of a dog to walk has led to a bit more indolence. When Booker died, I did not continue the nightly walk by myself. I tried but it was too hard emotionally. People would want to talk about him. It would come up over and over. "Where is Booker"? And I have not gone back.

We will be getting another dog soon after these summer trips are concluded. The plans are in the works. So that part of the problem will be eliminated. In the meantime, this trip will provide the walking I need and the new sights I crave.

Let me orient you a little. Shelter Island is a man made peninsula in a dog leg shape.

I am down at the "calf", the building with the large white roof, the marina across with a square mooring area. Humphrey's concert venue is the next building toward us on the right side of the island. It is huge and runs all the way to the end of the lower leg. It is brown so it is hard to see. Neo Hawaiian which is the Island theme for all buildings (though not for the BayClub where I am staying).

At the bend, the 90 degree corner, is a large military facility, Naval, which does some kind of arcane detector work. It is not highly guarded but you can't see anything. The round building all the way toward us on the near end is a big fancy restaurant which I have eaten at but not often. It is nice enough. But where I stay is just the kind of thing I want and it is right under my room. I get plenty of walking in as it is.

Look how clear the water is. I don't know if it is "clean" but it sure looks it. People do swim at the beach right next to the boat ramp on the inner bay. It looks cold to me as all the Pacific is. Swimming in these waters is more for the young and brave.

Labels: vacation

I am off for my annual jaunt to the sea today.

I will be going to San Diego, Shelter Island staying at the Bay Club and Marina as I have every year since, well, I don't know how long.

I used to work at this place, training trainers, and it was a favorite location. A few photos will tell anyone why this is so.

Water on both sides, there is a nice marina, quiet with boats and a look into the Humphrey's concert venue next door.

Across the way there is the San Diego Bay with the Naval Air Base beyond the water and the city off to the left way down there in the mist.

There are birds (lots of pelicans, yeah) and plenty of marines and navy guys jogging. More yeah!

I don't vary my routine much. Surprise, surprise.

I get up early although not quite as early as home. Meditate. Then do a long walk to the west, toward the bay entrance, the big water. There are a lot of things to see. Boats and more boats, a huge huge bell you ring with a timber, a gift from Hawaii, the police station. Seals barking. No planes at this hour. Very little traffic. To the end and back is about ¾ hour.

Then, if I time it right, it will be breakfast, a buffet, sit out on the water.

Back to the room. Sit, read, on the deck. Clear out when the housecleaner comes around nine and walk the other way. West. Up the Island, around the bend to the main avenue (Rosecrans) where I turned in. And back.

By that time, the room is done, I sit and read some more. Perhaps go and walk around some more. Then before I know it will be lunch. I do not go out to eat. The restaurant is great. All I need. Sit on the deck again.

Afternoon the same with a nap. Another little walk.

Then, dinner, early, and another goodnight walk out to see the boats.

The boat viewing is the highlight on all walks. In the early morning people are going out of the large marina mostly to fish. All private boats brought in on trailer. Some moorings. Not many. At night, they are all coming back. With fish and not. The pelicans and seals gather around. It is a spectacle I never get tired watching. People, animals, birds, in close harmony. There is not a spec of fish guts or anything else when they are done. Maybe a slight oil slick but not much of that. I have the impression that boats are not near the polluters they once were. Granted I don't get down into the water to see.

The people watching part is grand. There are runners, mostly navy and marine personnel at nearby bases. There are the fishermen. Both in the boats and standing watching their lines hang in the water. Lots of dogs, well behaved. It is busy but not crowded.

I love it. And I am on my way.

I will not post while I am gone. I think. Time off for that too.

Labels: vacation

I think it is very difficult to make a good film about dancers and dancing.

And this one succeeds very well, the rare exception.

Five Dances (2013)

Real dancers, real dancing, five stories. The main story is about the two male dancers who slowly are attracted to each other and, well, that would be telling the ending.

One of the guys is a virgin, the other an experienced two relationship guy. A little older.

We get to see them dance with one another. There is a lot of dancing and that is a good thing.

The other dancers are as interesting and there are smaller subplots going on here as well.

The thing I enjoyed most was the tie-in of a dance then an advance of the story line in each of five segments. Very nice. Not slick. Just well done. Masterful.

I will buy this disc. That makes it a 5 out of Netflix5.

Labels: dance, film

We are entering the lists.

You know. Those jousting lists.

It is time to rev up the campaign which means looking for the dirty tricks and pre-game psyching out that precedes the Big One.

Of course we are hardly through the mid term elections. But that is just a passing phase. The 2016 looms. And, in my time, there has never been so much uncertainty. Even the certain has been unsettled.

Clinton's poll numbers have been plummeting. The latest Marist poll shows this. She "no longer has the support of a majority of 2016 voters, according to the poll, but still comes in ahead when pitted against former Florida Governor Jeb Bush, New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie, and Kentucky Sen. Rand Paul"....AP report.

But this is not too interesting. No one expects any one but Hillary to be the Democratic nominee. Of course, a lot could happen but with the Clintons holding on tight, you can bet that it will all be the usual show. Sniping and bitching about the Clintons.

Always. Even me. Well, especially me. I didn't like them the last time and I don't like them much better this time. But it is the old chestnut again about how she might be a pain in the ass but she is our pain in the ass. I will not go there today although I already did, I guess.

The interesting one is in the GOP. The GoOPers.

Look at who is named in that quote above: "...when pitted against former Florida Governor Jeb Bush, New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie, and Kentucky Sen. Rand Paul". There is one missing. The inestimable ego. Rick Perry. The Texas cowboy.

I have never taken Rick Perry seriously but he is a fly in the Republican ointment and could cause some trouble. That is why I think that some work was just done to do him in before it gets serious.

Texas Governor Indicted Over Effort to Remove Official

The Democrats inflicted this wound on him. But the GOP side must be happy to have something to paste on Rick. An indictment is just an indictment but in politics in this country it is a stain which will not come out. Rick Fucking Perry. Your ticket has been punched. Go from whence you came.

Labels: election, GOP, hillary, Perry

Boxing seems like a lost art or sport.

My Dad loved the Friday Night Fights. I enjoyed looking at the naked chests and legs.

Today's film provides none of the usual thrills of yesteryear.

Frederick Wiseman's Boxing Gym (2010)

visits a different side of the boxing world. The day to day amateurs who find something deep within themselves in training to box. Whether they ever really box or not.

Frederick Wiseman's film is all about the training. I do not remember actually seeing a real fight. A few scenes of sparring.

Almost all of it is the drill, the leg exercises, the talk. It is grueling to watch. I can only imagine doing it all.

As in all of Wiseman's documentaries, he shows universal thoughts and emotions. Real people engaged in a strange set of rituals which involve grueling preparation. The fight is almost an afterthought.

I enjoyed watching this film a lot. That is the thing this great documentarian brings to us. The examination of strange situations and regular people who are involved in them. There is nothing weird or strange about any of the people in this film. Wiseman lets them talk for themselves. There is no narration. Show don't tell.

There is a lot that is unsaid here. How did these people find boxing. What keeps them involved especially when not one of them will ever achieve any real success. It is all about loss and limitation and overcoming it with hard work. The success is in the work itself. You can see it with these great people. Their spirit and determination are exemplary but they are really very normal humans.

And so on.

I would gladly watch this again. That makes it a 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I suppose I have mentioned that we are now eating "out" every Thursday night.

This is a relatively new experience representing a turn to culinary adventure in our old age. It is also a night off from cooking.

You probably know that I am generally restaurant averse. I don't much like anything about it. Usually, this starts with the idea that I could do as well cooking at home but we have found a number of places now that actually have stuff I like and would never attempt to cook at home. I would not roast any bird for example. Nor a beef. Too big, too much, mega leftovers. I also do not make "appetizers" and that is a major point out there. To say nothing of salads which are a challenge for me. Not that is difficult to toss a salad. I just am not into it that much.

Truth be known, my "cooking" has now devolved into the heating up of prepared foods. I no longer make sauces or the like. I will cook pasta although the soft stuff in the stores now is very tempting.

Eating out gives us a chance to see some foods that would never enter our home in forms I would never attempt.

Last night we walked out of a place. A sort of favorite of the mid range hipster or what passes as that. We went in, it was virtually empty, no one showed us to our seats. When I asked they did bring the menus. They were too bent on shooting the shit with each other near the beverage station.

I went and asked if they had table service. "Yes". Then no one came. We just got up and left.

The menu was not very interesting. It was our second time and I somehow didn't remember a bad experience.

Oh well.

We ended up at Elmers. Good service, enjoyable surroundings, a mid range menu with a lot of choice. And desserts.

It is still off season so one of our regular places is closed this month. We will make do. But now we are down to six places which, if you think about how picky we are, is pretty good.

Labels: eating out, restaurants

Good ballet films are hard to come by.

But today's documentary by Frederick Wiseman is so engrossing that its great length (over 2.5 hours) disappears.

Showing a mix of behind the scenes and performance work, there is no narration. The film tells its own story. Even the dancers' talk is limited. A lot of show not tell.

La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet (2009)

There are generous scenes of the house itself. The surrounding neighborhood in the heart of Paris. It is a gorgeous building.

And, of course, gorgeous people. A little short on the male dancers but that is often the case. That is OK.

This is a wonderful film. I would not mind seeing it again. A 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: dance, films

From christwire.org, where one can also read "How To Spot A Masturbator".

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This is a very funny mockumentary site. You might want to take a look at it as you pass through the internet each day.

Labels: obama, parody, wingnuts

Marco Berger has become one of the finest film directors who make gay art films.

Notice that I emphasize the art.

The depiction of gay relationships in a Berger film are true and warm and full of life at a level where genré pictures usually can not reach.

No doubt that today's film is gay from head to toe. Actually from the top of the two heroes heads to their toes. A romance.

Hawaii (2013)

There is a lot of yearning in this film. Berger's specialty. He is a master of sexual tension. The slow buildup. The beautiful denouement.

And ironically, not a lot of actual sex. Explicit or otherwise.

I had seen his other films and realized at the end of the "fest" that somehow I had missed buying this DVD.

Now remedied, this latest work can be placed next to its older brothers as part of a fine body of work.

Great music score too.

Oh. It does not take place in Hawaii. Hawaii is a state of mind, a connection that becomes clear at the end of the story. A 5 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I was supposed to go to the dentist today for a cleaning.

I did not go.

I woke in the night with a dread of it. Seriously. This has not happened to me in a long time. I had come to terms with it all and pretty much have been able to waltz through the process in recent years.

I called and canceled, then called and set a new date. But I don't know if I will follow through on it or not.

I am puzzled by this. I do need to go. I have friends who do not but I have gum issues. Or did have. And they inculcate this idea of necessity which is at one level quite true and at another not.

I am perplexed.

I know that this happens to dentists all the time. They expect it. It has nothing to do with any guilt of bailing on someone who depends on me. It was a bit last minute but what the hell. I have been a good boy.

I just find myself so resistant to going today.

Maybe I need to find a new doc.

I was so happy for years with Dr. Calhoun. A young cynical guy with an attitude that pissed off so many patients that they sort of abandoned him. I loved it. He was irreverent and brash. And, it needs to be said, he made me (by himself in his shop) a set of dentures that have been admired by other dentists in the years since I went to him.

Where did he go? He got a job as the head dental guy at the prison in Blythe CA. Something he could hardly refuse. And, I think, his practice was faltering. I am sure that somewhere he is pushing some con around while he does his job on the con's teeth.

So where does that leave me?

I have had these periods before in my life. I lost a lot of teeth because I played hooky. But now that I have partials for half my teeth, I am a lot less concerned about the whole thing. The more relaxed attitude of an old man without a lot to lose.

A final word of blame. This dentist is pretty good. But he has had a succession of hygienists who really suck. Or piss me off. Or somehow have disappointed. The ones I started with are long gone. He doesn't seem to be able to keep anyone.

So starting at a new place won't be much different than it has been with this office. Always a new person cleaning and scraping my teeth. The actual time with the DDS is pretty short. A quick look and a pat on the ass and goodbye. Of course if there is "work" then he comes into the picture. But it has been a long long time since there was "work".

So. I will wait and see. Somehow I predict I will cancel the new appointment I have made and will start looking for another place. Or not.

Right now, doing nothing seems to be the best option. I like the little bon mot: "If in doubt do nothing". I am sure in doubt. Maybe fear to. But the answers will come as they always do.

Labels: dentist

It is an old story that a lot of uninhibited nudity takes the zing out of voyeurism. It is the hiding that gives nakedness its charm. At least on the stage.

Such is the case in Crazy Horse (2011)

There is so much nudity that it just becomes another costume.

But like any good behind the scenes story, Frederick Wiseman puts the zing back into the enterprise with a reveal of the painstaking effort that goes into their patented stage production. Long running, must see entertainment.

It is a bit long, the film, but worth the extra time to see the prep and then the show as it comes off.

There are no surprises here. It is all pretty much workmanship at its best only applied to naked ladies.

There are no men in the show. Alas.

I enjoyed it and would not want to watch it again. Once did the trick. A 3 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I visited my friends at Ralphs* this morning.

As in Ralphs super market.

I go twice a week religiously. Tuesday and Friday at 6AM. The agoraphobics' hour. Also the best time to get fresh produce, yak with the staff and generally enjoy the process of roaming the aisles.

There was nothing particular about today. It was so normal. Some of the customers are familiar, a nod and a faint "hi". Some staff are old acquaintances. Some short visits. They are working after all. I am shopping.

I like the guys who are still stocking the shelves from the night shift. This is an especially busy store. I hear one of their best performers, dollars per square foot. So it is a constant replenishment. Start at one end and then go back and do it again. And again. There is one guy who mostly does nothing but take care of the corrugated. It is an assembly line operation. The shelvers shelve and leave the unflattened box for him to pick up. These go in back to a baler then all is taken away.

I am chummy with the bakery lady whose sense of responsibility is so great that I dare not ask for directions to a certain item or serve up any questions. She will relentlessly leave her assigned work and finish whatever errand she sets out upon at my request.

I don't know any of the meat people. They are not there when I shop. Later, 630AM I think. But the shelf items are so complete and the selection so good that I never have to ask anyway. That would be the night staff doing its work. Not so long ago, something happened and the meat display was desolated. Nothing there. It turned out that the night crew had some emergency or other. I waited until next time.

Today was smooth sailing. I like the morning manager, Jim. He is always up for some badinage. He is their best bagger. Funny. Work your way up to the top and the customer values your bagging skills above all other. Besides we get to shoot the shit while he is doing it. The checkers love him and his talk so it is a good entertainment all around.

There would be none of this later in the day. I have gone in there and it is fucking bedlam. People wall to wall, ten checkout lanes in operation. Electronic signs controlling the crowds through the lanes.

I like the old fashioned pace of the morning hours. No one in a hurry. No one pushing from behind. Time for thought and consideration.

* No apostrophe. Ralphs.

Labels: food, shopping

The title is just one name but this is a buddy movie through and through.

Elling (2002)

Or at least that is how I see it.

Elling is a Norwegian mama's boy and when mama dies, he is bereft and almost comatose. He is committed to an institution and meets a guy, Kjell, who has a little problem with spontaneous violence. Hitting his head on the wall. They become room mates. Improbable. But it works out.

They are released together and put into the hands of a social worker as room mates. Their life after the institution is the subject here and it is a kind of coming of age film even though they are well past the age they were supposed to "come of" the first time.

The results are delightful.

A lot happens and, in the end, each finds a life of his own. An identity.

The jokes come one after another in that wry, sweet humor that Scandinavians dish up so well.

I enjoyed it a lot and would not mind seeing it again. A 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I figured Hillary would be off the reservation and zinging Obama.

In a way, she has to. But still, since she was Secretary of State for quite awhile. Four years. Doesn't this smell just a little bit?

Hillary Clinton criticizes Obama's foreign policy 'failure'; strongly defends Israel

And of course, there is Israel again. Right up there among the issues. Can Jewish support be far behind?

I have gone round and round on the Clintons before. It is inevitable that they will get out of their cage and become their normal self serving selves now that Hill is up for another try at the Presidency.

She might be the only show in town. Our Romney. No one really wants her but there is no one else in the offing.

They feel entitled to it so I suppose it will be a coronation at least at the Party level. But I don't have to like it. She is better than the "none of the above" that could show up in the GOoPer bullpen.

Labels: Hillary Clinton

Today's film is an old favorite.

Cheri (2009)

Michelle Pfeiffer and Rupert Friend do the dance between an aging courtesan and a young admirer who falls in love with her. A story from Colette.

Stephen Frear's film. I have seen it many times.

This is a very satisfying film in that it has entirely sympathetic principles, no one doing "wrong" and a wonderful love story between improbable lovers.

The young man learns many valuable life lessons in a short time. The aging woman is able to capture her youth for awhile. Roughly put.

Also Kathy Bates as the madam in charge and narrator.

Charming and very pleasing film. A 5 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

The Iraq thing is never done.

Obama is bombing the north. And, the war continues at home from the usual quarters.

McCain Says Limited U.S. Strikes on Militants in Iraq Are Not Enough

John McCain has never met a war he didn't like. Seething is his default position. He lies in wait for opportunities to bang the drum.

In actual fact, I think that McCain is still festering over the fact that he was spurned in his run for President.

His campaign will never end.

He does not, evidently, see himself as a sore loser or a whiner. But he comes across that way.

It is hard to imagine a McCain presidency let alone two of them.

I am sure that he is too old to run again in '16 but that hasn't kept him down before.

The funny thing is that I actually like the guy. He has funny asides and somehow doesn't take himself all that seriously. But he is a dog with a bone on anything involving troops. It is his playing card. Being a POW has never left him. His bitterness over it is tangible.

He is still the guy in the picture.

As he seeks an opportune target for his shit, he finds the perfect target in Obama. Twice beaten by him, he is legitimized by the rivalry.

Besides, it keeps his name in the papers. An otherwise irrelevant old man. Just happens to have a history.

Labels: Iraq, McCain

The turn of the century, the 19th to the 20th, that is, involved change of all kinds.

Today's film shows the change on and in relationships.

Gabrielle (2005)

Isabelle Huppert, stuck in a loveless marriage, bolts and runs off to her lover and is back home in the same afternoon.

What is up with that?

That is the point of the film. Obligation versus freedom. Love versus hostage taking. Classy behavior or do what you feel you want? All very bourgeois questions. Not many answered.

Huppert is quite good in this film but depends on her costar Pascal Greggory for the necessary counterweight. The result is a tour de force of manners versus feeling.

The sets are sumptuous. The supporting acting superb. I would, actually, be quite happy to see it again. That would make it a 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

Another two segments of Teen Wolf Season Three. Five and six.

I only delineate the chapters for others who might be following.

I will not go through the plot. Only to say that the show continues to deliver a lot of suspense and humor about itself which makes it very appealing.

This has always been the hallmark of this series all the way back to the original film. It is a tongue and cheek encyclopedia of other world phenoms.

I enjoy it a lot more than I am willing to admit. The initial appeal was the skin show of the two stars but that phase is over. The actors have matured and the story line is interesting beyond the various ever changing weirdness that is encountered.

I will keep at it.

There are the Third Season DVDs to conquer and then, soon, there will be a fourth season to contend with.

Labels: films, television

Two families find that their sons were switched at birth.

OK. Going on from there, here is how the families and kids respond to this information 8 years down the road.

The circumstances seem a bit forced but once we accept the premise, the film sensitively demonstrates that family is more than blood kin and at the same time recognizes how these things matter.

The director Hirokazu Kore-eda takes his time here. The inevitable forces do not get manipulated. The law is involved. The switch is unfortunate but, well, nevertheless.

A Jury prize at Cannes for this wonderful film.

Like Father, Like Son (2014)

The fact that these are Japanese families may alter some of the details of what happens here but not really. It is all quite human in scope. Also intimate.

This is a great film. An unanswerable dilemma. Yet, the people deal. And the kids as well.

Very good. A 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I went to the barber today.

Actually, I probably went to a stylist. I don't really know the difference any more.

This guy is a friend so it is relatively painless. An important factor. I am haircut/barber/stylist averse. I am not sure why. It might verge on a phobia. Listed in that personality disorder list. But it is not. I just looked to see.

It is just common garden variety resistance to sitting still and letting someone else have at me.

I have cut my own hair off and on for much of my life. All the way from a mild buzz cut to the closely shaved, nearly bald look.

But now, with a lot of actual baldness, it really looks better to let as much hair as will grow up there. Today, for example, my friend took nothing off the top. Not a lot to take. Leave it alone.

I did better than usual. I got there early and walked around a bit. Found a new restaurant. He is right in the middle of town. Bided my time. And, when he arrived, my boredom level was high enough that I jumped into the chair gladly.

During the haircut, another guy I know came in and the chit chat distracted nicely.

When I was a kid, I went to a barber that was right in the neighborhood. Edgar Trentaseau. Belgian. He had an old photo of the King of Belgium in the shop. Edgar would not do short cuts. I was about eight when I asked for one and got refused. That, eventually, did him in.

I went around then, moved to the other barber, a bit further away. But bike able. Mr. Kitzig. I remember that he had a lot of fish and game magazines. Something new for me. Edgar was a Saturday Evening Post man.

Over the years, I have tried to like many barbers. Then stylists. Not a good take.

I think that I am finally settled with this guy. He is cheerful. He does not take me too seriously. And he does the hair the way he wants and it actually looks pretty good. He more or less ignores my input but I like him well enough and he likes me.

What else could I be looking for?

Labels: hair

It is hard to get under the persona of well established personalities.

To not only let them show themselves but also show sides of themselves that even they might be surprised to see.

Errol Morris, the documentary film maker specializes in the "let 'em talk and talk" kind of exposé. Out of this talk and, of course, some judicious editing, a picture emerges about people and their times which can be quite revealing.

Today's subject was Deciphering Donald Rumsfeld: The Unknown Known (2013)

Morris won an Academy Award for the film.

At the end, Morris asks Rumsfeld why he consented to the interview and he says he does not know. I think that I know. The full 90 minutes up to that moment have shown Rumsfeld as a man who is never at a loss for words or at a loss of admiration for his ability to use them.

And to a great extent, he is right about himself. He is articulate, thoughtful, a good witness.

What he does not know is that his talk is quite revealing if allowed to run on as Morris allows in these interviews.

There are no "gotcha" moments here. Rumsfeld is given a free rein to talk without any argument. Yet, there are times, when his self confidence erodes just enough to see the man do some squirming under the surface. Most notably about why, in the first place, he got himself in front of Morris' cameras. He has to know that he is showing too much bra strap.

In all fairness, I have to say that he does a good job in telling his story. He is certainly entitled to his opinions as well as his side of any story about him.

I have to admit that I liked him more than I expected. He is an old man now but in great shape. He has a vitality and energy that serve him well. I think that he is satisfied that he has done his best and to hell with us if we don't like it. Fuck off y'all.

Good for him.

I don't want to see this again at all, a lot of it is too painful but as a film/doc/interview it deserves a high rating. It is in 5 territory. But my not wanting to see it again makes it a technical 3.

I have seen all of Morris' work and I am totally enthusiastic about it. So to that extent there is a 5 here in that I would not miss any new film that Morris makes.

Labels: films

I realized today that I have not been posting a lot here besides films.

That is not because I have nothing to say. I am out of the habit of posting.

And it is summer. Quiet times.

I am busy.

There are the usual things. Gym at 4AM Monday through Friday. Meetings three times a week, Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. One on ones with the people I sponsor in the Program.

But none of that is of note or, more likely, is anything I can really write about.

There is always the recourse to writing about not writing. And here I am.

First, summer. We are in the middle of it. But it is not all that hot this year. No, we do not go out much in the middle of the day. Do the shopping early, do any other business. Water, mess with the gardens. Then go inside.

Since we don't have a dog friend with us, there is a limitation on outside activity. This will soon change, probably when the heat is over or whenever a best friend is found for us to invite to live with us.

So a lot of stuff is on hold or in abeyance.

I do have plans to vacate to San Diego on the 17th for my annual five days on the water. I so look forward to that.

Come fall there will be visitors again and some other things. The condo board will rev up.

In the meantime, doldrums. Which is OK. I just don't want to retire in my retirement. I crave action. But I have enough right now and there is always reading to catch up with.

Of course, there is always the ultimate cool off here. Just go up the mountain and it will be in the mid 70s with 50s at night.

Not all that far as the crow flies, about two miles. But on the roads, more like near an hour to get there. Not today.

Labels: desert, summer, weather

Comedy today.

Courtesy of Lewis Black on his disc "Unleashed".

You can't write about standup. One has to see and hear it.

Labels: comedy, films

There is no easy category for today's film.

In one way, it can be seen as a vampire movie but quite conversely it could also be seen as a love relationship between two kids on the cusp of adolescence. What can be said is that it is utterly unique.

Let the Right One In (2008)

Made in Sweden, there is a lot of crunchy cold snow. I had forgotten that sound of crunch. Crunch. This adds to the eeriness of the goings on when a boy meets his girl neighbor. She has this weird father and, it turns out, is not so normal herself. She doesn't feel the cold. Scrunch. She sees into things in a different way. And so on.

The boy is not too normal himself. He is bullied and a momma's boy but not a very nice momma. Very much alone.

The girl and her father need blood to live and so the Dad's job is to find the random homeless or alone person to, well, bleed, so they can eat.

Here is where a description of the film must stop as it sounds horrific and, while it is, in a way, these people are quite sympathetic. The vampires. The normal people around them, not so much.

The boy and girl fall in a kind of love with each other and all the information about her is known by him.

How this turns, how his bullies are taken care of, how he and the girl manage to work their way through the drama of blood letting and still find themselves with their relationship intact is the main story here. I am not really tipping off the ending. I am just saying that normal plus weird people can meet and have something going with one another.

I saw this before. It was and is a 5 out of Netflix5. I will see it again someday when, as happened this time, I had forgotten enough of the detail to be surprised by outcomes as well as the strength of the entire production. After all, two kids acting this story out requires some formidable acting and directing chops for all involved. It is very believable. Believing. Believe me.

Still a 5 after all this time.

Labels: films

Occasionally, I like to watch some film shorts.

The opportunity arises today with the Marco Berger "fest". He has a few collected with a few more by Marcelo Monaco

Sexual Tension Volatile (2013)

A boy gets tattooed by a sexy artist, another guy stays overnight with a friend and meets the guy's cousin, also camping out. A nurse scrubs down a patient who is as sexy as they probably get. His arm is broken. And so on.

Small situations which many gay men could easily identify. The usual question is whether or not this other man, intimately connected somehow, is gay or is a "possible" or just that tension that comes when two men, similarly inclined, share close proximity.

It is a neat premise and a well executed set of small films. A 5 by definition as I have seen it several times.

It seems, in this country, that public opinion supports Israel.

Therefore, so do the politicians. It usually gets to do what it wants in its continuing wars with the Palestinians. Little criticism.

But occasionally a line is crossed somewhere and the US actually gets upset at them and says so.

This just happened.

US 'appalled' by 'disgraceful' UN School Shelling

It is not as though it is the first disgraceful or appalling thing the Israelis have done. And it will continue.

Years and years and decades and decades of experience show that the US is tough on the Arabs and soft on the Jews. No surprise there. The Arabs lack the political traction that the Jews have in this country.

I, myself, am not on either side. I think they both stink of blood and death. This is racial politics and ethnic violence at a level we would never countenance here. But there? Sure. Jews have the strings on the politicians.

At long last, someone in our government is saying what I usually think. But it is hard to believe that it will last or have much of an effect.

The whole regional history is fraught from the beginning. I grew up with the "Palestine question". I was around to watch the Israeli migration to their "homeland". All fakery as far as I can tell. A place to dump displaced persons who then gained an entitled status in the world because of their suffering. But there has to be a limit.

When do the victims become the persecutors? Or, when did they. That is what has happened.

For a very long time, it was considered "anti-Semitic" (gasp) to utter such thoughts. But technically, the Arabs are Semites too*. So there is enough blame to go around that tree many times.

*Sem·ite: ˈsemīt/noun, plural noun: Semites, a member of any of the peoples who speak or spoke a Semitic language, including in particular the Jews and Arabs.

Labels: Israel, Palestine

We are having weather.

Rare indeed. It is wet. It is dark. It is not cold but it is kind of warm raw.

It is nice actually. A change. We need the rain which sounds weird when you consider we live in the desert. But, deserts need rain. True.

It has been a long drought in California and we have had the same. Palm Springs is an oasis to a great extent. Water in the ground. But we have carried it to an extreme. Way past the ability to sustain all the green stuff. Water gets pumped in.

The rain today will not do much for the water table but it is a nice superficial treatment for the lawns and plants. Cleaning off the dust at least.

It is also nice to get that dark sort of New Englandish light. At least it feels like Boston to me.

Labels: desert, weather

Today is an old favorite gay film.

Plan B (2009)

Friends get involved with one another because one of the guys wants to sew jealousy in his girlfriend's heart. That the "sham" is another guy seems to be less the issue than that the two guys quickly fall in love with one another. A long period of dancing around the issue ensues.

The plan B part is that if his relationship with the girl doesn't work out he will, apparently, to find another one. Which he does. Little expecting that it will be with another guy.

I love watching this film because it is so realistic. The men's dance around each other is drawn out and delicious.

The people in this are great. I own all of Berger's films and love to see them over and over. Worth seeing again even if I know what the payoff is. The people in the film don't know and surprise each other each time! It is great to watch the process.

I am seeing all of Berger's films again. So it is a Berger-fest!

A 5 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films, gay films

In today's film, a teenage swimmer develops a crush on his coach. He concocts a way to spend the night with the coach through a series of diversions, some quite clever. A speck in the eye that requires a visit to an outpatient clinic. A missing cell phone. Absent parents, an unavailable grandmother. A friend who he was supposed to spend the night with but is somehow not available.

Ausente / Absent (2011)

The coach finally, in desperation, breaks basic rules and lets the kid stay overnight with him.

Long drawn out scenes of the kid fantasizing about the coach, eventually touching him in bed and so on.

The suspense is quite excruciating. We kinda want a consummation but know that would be a terrible thing to have happen.

I will leave the rest to be explored by the reader.

This is a great film. Most of what happens is in our mind. The tension, the expectation, the wanting something to happen which should not. Berger puts it all on us and is relentless in keeping things on the edge.

This is a replay of a rating 5 film. I have it in my collection. I am watching the two Berger films that I have. There is a new one but it won't be along for awhile. Very good.

I have been back from my Boston/London/Toronto trip for almost two weeks. I thought I had no jet lag or anything but, as it turns out, I am just beginning to feel "right" after all the time changes. Nine time zones.

John says there is a "thing" that says we need one day for each time zone we go through. So I guess I am right on time.

I am going away again in two weeks for my regular annual getaway in San Diego. Shelter Island. On the water. Bay Club Hotel and Marina. I trained trainers there for many years and never got it out of my system. I am ready to be back.

In the meantime, I will be doing normal stuff.

Last night, we did our newish Thursday night eat-out thing. We went to a restaurant we have never gone before. John wanted to but I demurred. I had the idea that it was pretentious. Or something.

Spencer's. Not bad actually, and being summer, not crowded at all. It might, indeed, be a little pretentious but I think that I have confused it with the restaurant up the street which is really over the line.

The weekend is very nicely empty. No activities.

The condo Board takes the summer off. Well, we met once to pass the budget for next year because we got caught in the law requiring notice before the fiscal year for rate raises. We are going up 65.00 a month which is, quite frankly, a lot but we have depleted our reserves and previous boards, not having the balls to do it, let the rates stay the same. To our detriment.

So we are biting the bullet.

I do run for office so there is a vulnerability I suppose but I am past giving a shit about stuff like that. If they want to elect someone who lies about the real cost of doing business here, as they did before, good on them. There. That showed "them" huh?

House got its bi-weekly cleaning yesterday. Sergio and the gang. They do pretty well but I am still guilty of doing some prep before they get here and then after they leave doing some critical examination.

Ants. I mentioned ants before.

We successfully turned back the tide and then, over the last few days, they are back. The little fuckers. So resilient. So determined. Argentinians. But I have devastated them again with the Raid and soon, nature will have its way. Cold air will drift in and they will go back into hiding again.

The heat is upon us. For sure. The top has stayed up on the Volvo convertible for several days running. I put it down to go to the store today mostly so I could throw the bags into the back more easily. But for a few days we are going to be under the gun then, again, a cooler period with temps in the 90s. Amazing summer. And very little humidity so far. The "normal temps" are shown in the graph. But there is no normal here. Averages and means do not tell the story.

This is a catchall post. All the boring news and then some. But some people like it and this is supposed to be a substitute for me writing regular emails to friends and family so I needed to get to it and post the mundane details.

Labels: blogging, life, weather