Well, dear readers, I’m getting a late start on these here notes, so I must hurry them along so that they don’t go up too too late.
Last night I dreamed I was at Manderley.
In my dream I was sitting in my car and a parking ticket officer came up and started writing me a parking ticket. It was after six p.m. and I told him rather indignantly, “Hey, you, get off of my cloud, it is after six o’clock.” He told me that he’d looked at my car and the meter before six o’clock and was therefore giving me a ticket. I told him that I’d put money in at five-forty and that he was full of a coprophiliac’s favorite thing. None of this dissuaded him from writing the ticket. I told him that I would see him in court, that I would fight it all the way. On he went, writing, not caring one or two whits. Then someone came over to the car and told me that Stephen Sondheim had called and that I should call him right back. I did, but he wasn’t there. Then I woke up and that is why I’m getting a late start writing these here notes, because of that damned parking ticket officer in my dream. You can blame it on him, you can blame it on Rio, you can blame it on the Bossa Nova, you can blame it on my youth (well, that’s a stretch), you can put the blame on Mame, but don’t blame me.
Yesterday I took a quick look at the transfers on the Blake Edwards DVDs. Victor/Victoria looks the best, really quite stunning. I do like most of that film very very much, and there are some classic Edwards moments that still make me howl every time I see them. For example, in the cockroach scene in the restaurant, no other director I know would have had the audacity to do what Edwards does just as the cockroach climbs up the leg. Just at the point where you know the reaction is coming, he cuts outside the restaurant (the shot is a wide shot from across the street) and we watch the ensuing pandemonium silently through the windows of the restaurant. Absolutely hilarious and visually wonderful. S.O.B. looks pretty good – it was shot on a much lower budget. The film itself has some really good things in it, but a lot of it just lays there like so much fish. The Great Race looks fantastic and is complete at 160 minutes. I saw this film the day it opened at the Pantages Theater and was very impressed by it’s visual splendor and great cast. I do remember not laughing very much, though, which I thought strange for a comedy. And as I watched the opening of the DVD I remembered why – it’s not very funny. It’s very big, it’s very long, it has its moments, but it’s not the tribute that Mr. Edwards wanted it to be (the film is dedicated to Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy). The direction is fine, but the script is weak and it’s a shame Mr. Edwards didn’t write it himself (or with another writer).
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? I’m really enjoying my new handy-dandy computer, but I have barely grazed the surface of it, I fear. For example, I know that I can load music and burn CDs in here, but I have no idea how to even begin that process. I have listened to CDs through the Windows Media Player, and I have even watched a little bit of the Nudie Musical DVD, which looked swell. The interesting thing about this here computer is that it comes with a rather large Owner’s Manual, which is unlike any other owner’s manual I’ve ever seen. Most owner’s manuals have a nice diagram of the product, with arrows showing you where everything is located. Most owner’s manuals tell you how each function works and how to do everything. Not this owner’s manual. This owner’s manual spends most of its pages on Solving Problems. It does tell you how to turn off the computer, though, so that’s good. And it does have a whole section on something called a Power Surge. Basically a power surge is not supposed to be good, but on a personal level I like a nice power surge. For example, if I eat a box of See’s Dark Chocolate Nuts and Chews, I get a power surge. I’m here, I’m there, I’m bouncing off the walls (no mean feat). But, apparently, one doesn’t want their computer to be here and there and bouncing off the walls, so that is the difference between a human and a computer in a nutshell. I’ll bet you didn’t even know you could find the difference between a human and a computer in a nutshell. For example, I didn’t know I could find the difference between a human and a computer in a nutshell, and yet when I opened a nutshell to get out a nut, in addition to the nut I found the difference between a human and a computer. What the hell am I talking about?
My goodness, that was a large paragraph. The only thing to do after a large paragraph such as the one above, is to click on the closest Unseemly Button, which is exactly what I’m going to do in a nutshell. Well, I hope I can do it in a nutshell, although I am bigger than a nutshell and I don’t know whether I’ll fit in the fershluganah nutshell.
Well, in a nutshell, here we are. And we all know what day this is, don’t we? This is Ask BK Day, that’s what day this is, the day when you ask my all of your excellent questions that you’ve been slaving over for days. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too? And I shall answer each and every one of your questions to the best of my ability. I shall be forthright and true and I shall answer, answer, answer (that is three answers) until the cows come home. I have just one question: Why is there a “w” in the word “answer”? Look at that “w”, just sitting there like so much fish, not a care in the world, just sitting there for no reason whatsoever. Perhaps it’s on vacation from another word. Oh, well, I suppose there is no answer to why there’s a “w” in “answer” and we’re all just going to have to accept that and move on with our lives.
I got a wonderful soundtrack CD yesterday and I’ve already listened to it three times. It’s the soundtrack to the film Joe Versus the Volcano. The film itself is an odd duck, but the score, by Mr. Georges Delerue, is stunningly beautiful. This is the first time it’s been released on CD and it’s a limited edition from the Varese Sarabande Soundtrack Club and is only available via their website or by phone.
I have some very sad news. In a nutshell, my turntable is dying. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, my turntable, which has given me many years of loyal service, is practically morte as the French say. The first time I knew that there was a problem was that when I turned it on the other day it tried to go in the wrong direction. It finally realized that was a futile thing to do and then started to go in the right direction. It played fine for a while, but then, towards the end of the LP I was transfereing to CD, its speed began to waver, causing the LP to sound as if it were careening nauseously around a room. Since then it has gotten worse and I feel the turntable is on its last legs and will soon be totally and finally muerte, as the Spanish say.
Well, as I said, I’m going to keep these here notes short because tomorrow’s will be endless and verbose, not necessarily in that order. So, gird your loins, step up to the plate, and ask your excellent questions. Do remember, even though the temptation will be mighty, don’t answer the questions, even if you know the answer, even if you’re dying to answer, even if you can barely restrain yourself, you simply simply must. Otherwise, you will be bitch-slapped from here to eternity by our resident bitch-slapper. Ask away, while I take the day, while I do the things I do, while I prance around my neighborhood in my colored tights and pantaloons because I am having a power surge in a nutshell.