It's still October (and therefore birthday festival month), so I'm still within the appropriate time frame to be finally trying out one of my shiny pink birthday presents: my very first iPod of any kind (I think it's called a Shuffle, and is sometimes disparaged because it only holds 500 songs -- but that is 500 more than I had to start with, and I am now its fiercest defender). Welcome to 2001!
I showed it to one of my musically-inclined ex-es the weekend I got it, and the first thing out of his mouth was "hey, it matches all your other pink appliances." (He always said they were for me, but frankly, I think he was just tryin' to cut back on his workload; c'mon, the guy was LAAAAzy).Then he leaned over and put his own state-of-the-art iPod earphhones into my ears and asked what I thought of the sound. I had to admit, bigger was better. He said, "well, I still owe you a birthday present, so why don't I get you a set of these?" What I shoulda said, of course, was, "don't be ridiculous; you don't OWE me a birthday present." What I said instead was, "why thank you; I'm registered at Best Buy."
I confessed immediately that I had no intention of putting good music on it -- nothing but guilty pleasures (what else would inspire you to run, etc.) There is no Robert Earl Keen. There is no Steve Earle. No Ryan Adams. There's not even any Dwight Yoakam, though he can be mighty dance-y. (As one of my cop buddies leaned over and whispered at a Dwight concert years ago, "I ain't gay or nothin'... but I'd fuck him." Which is what I call high praise. I thought my date that night looked a little unduly panic-stricken at the comment and was briefly afraid he might be either homophobic or gay, or both. I asked him about it later and he reassured me, "Nah. I was just afraid when he said he WOULD fuck Dwight, you were gonna say you HAD." Looking back, I guess that was his indirect way of asking if I'd ever had sex with Dwight Yoakam. Which is just silly. If you want a direct answer, you should ask a direct question.)
So the first song I had the Intern load was "Brandy," the 1970s classic by Looking Glass. (Go Navy.)
What? Did you think I was going to do it myself? Please. What am I? An animal.
But then when I tried to play it later after Intern left, all I got was some digital voice saying "please synch device."
Intern came in today and fixed it, after I sternly reminded him of his confidentiality obligations about not disclosing its contents. He got it working and as I fumbled for some kind of on-switch, this is the song that exploded inside my head. I don't know what my expression was, but from the look on his face, it musta been just like the monkeys in 2001 when the jawbone goes up and comes back down an iPod (or a blackberry, or a pink laptop -- cause I have these experiences a lot). I may not be an early adopter, but I am an enthusiastic convert.
I only know this song because this band had a cameo on House a few seasons ago. I didn't even know if they were a real band, but I googled it. Not cause they were so talented, but because the lead singer reminded me of a bass player from my 20s. My bass player was a lot taller and a lot cuter, and he wouldn't be caught dead writing or playing pop music.
I suspect youtube knows what it's doing running an ad to the right of the video hawking the dangers of unintended pregnancy.
Speaking only for myself, everytime I hear this song I'm replaying that entire summer in my head, from the first moment that bass player showed up on my deck and said, "Wanna try somethin' different?" Guilty pleasure doesn't even begin to cover it.
Oh, hell, don't look so shocked. It's not like I bought the ringtone.
"Amanda" is one of my favorite Facebook Friends. She's one of the few now that I haven't met in real-life (that was on my to-do list this year; there are 1,111 of them -- no one gets in or out now, because it was pointed out to me that's a lucky number). She works in a pet store (which should probably remain nameless). She lists her job description as:
"I tell little kids not to tap on the fucking glass."
Tonight is a hard-frost forecast so I spent today harvesting the last of the tomatoes (green, pink, red, and everything in between), along with the basil -- some went in baggies; there are some sprigs in a glass; and the rest will go into pesto.
Sigh. I also made the first chili of the season, which is another sign of reluctant recognition that Fall is here.
Culinarily, there's almost nothing I hate worse than losing access to the microscopic kitchen garden/salsa garden that grows inside a three feet square, up and down the deck stairs. (The potted plants on the deck gave up weeks ago.)
I'm hoping when I look at these pictures on a cold winter day that spring planting and the summer kitchen won't seem so far away.
That tiny little green baby heirloom almost makes me cry.
I finally saw The Hangover today with my pal Brooke. It only took us about four months to coordinate our respective schedules. We initially planned to go see "I Love You, Comma, Man" -- but waited so long it hit Dollar Theatre...then DVD... and it'll probably be on HBO next.
I don't have all that many friends who want to see bromances with me. Mostly they find 'em tasteless and juvenile (because they are).
It's not that I'm a 12-year-old boy --- there were a few things in the Hangover that were too gross for me (namely, unattractive nekkid man-asses, and throwing up -- I can't watch either of those two things). But I do like movies where boys talk like they really talk, and act like they really act. A tiger in the bathroom? C'mon. That's funny. Like Porky's, for grown-ups. I'm just so happy to see the R-Rated Comedy come back. From Wedding Crashers on thru the Judd Apatow trilogies, it pleases me. And I'm glad to see the comedy title wrested from the Farrelly Brothers (who were just gross -- no scatology please).
One of the major flaws in the otherwise enjoyable I Love You, Comma, Man was the fact that it was hamstrung by a PG-13 rating when it should've been the hard raunchy R it wanted to be.
The premise was what I was really interested in --a guy who needs to make guy friends. I identified cause my goal this year was to make new girlfriends. I've always argued that it is MUCH harder to make new girlfriends than boyfriends, and it's even more true in my 40s. Boys are easy to come by and there's a million acceptable prescribed courses for meeting one and draggin' him back to the cave. By and large, they come along quietly. As in the movie though, finding those same-sex BFF kinda friendships is much harder. It's not like anyone really offers to "fix you up" with a new shopping/movie/dinner buddy. After 40, everyone's married and has kids and new bonds are harder to form. And sometimes the friends you do have move away; they never leave you a temp; and these are hard positions to fill.
Today: I'm just glad the R-Rated Comedy is back and that I have a new buddy who likes them as much as I do. Brooke is a center-sitter and I'm an aisle-sitter, but luckily, there wasn't much of a crowd, so I was ok in the middle. (Though even in a theater with maybe 12 people in it, it stood to reason that six of them would come and sit right in front of us, while another plopped down at the end of our aisle, blocking my Exit. Cattle.)
I did have the same criticism of The Hangover that I did in I Love You, Comma, Man -- both needed to know when to splurge on the soundtrack. A properly timed dose of rap so filthy that the mainstream has embraced it is almost always hilarious. Judd Apatow knows this.
Which brings me to my next mission ... to bring back the R-rated sex romps that got us all laid in college -- 9 1/2 Weeks, No Way Out, or The Big Easy. Hell, even Fatal Attraction and The Last Seduction started off with good sex... before it took an admittedly unfortunate turn. Where are those movies today?
How many of us were inspired to do the Kim Basinger striptease to "You Can Leave Your Hat On?"... How many of us tried the blindfolded eating in front of the fridge (hint: skip the honey; you will NEVER get it off).
What are we supposed to use to lure boys over to the DVD caves now with 42 inches of HD goodness? The best I could come up with recently was Little Children (Kate Winslet has some graphic, hot extramarital sex with Patrick Wilson).... and that choice is problematic seeing as how...uh...one of the main plots is about a SEX OFFENDER who returns to their smalltown.
The R Rated comedies are a good start. You've made us laugh Hollywood. Now, please, for the love of God, get everybody laid. It's the least you can do for seven bucks ($20 if you want popcorn).
Ditch the PG13s and some of the animated fare and give a few screens back to the grownups. We have more money than the kids. Throw us a bone. Pardon the expression.
