Well, dear readers, it is a glorious Saturday and the cleaning lady is here and giving me the Evil Eye. Do you suppose if I gave her a double whammy of the Evil Eye in return that I would be the Evil I? In any case, she is giving me a single whammy of the Evil Eye and that is more than enough. Hence, I will have to do the Hustle and move these notes right along.
Apparently, without so much as a by-you-leave (or is it bye-your-leave? Or is it buy-your-leave? Or is it bi-your-leave?), dear reader Matthew went and had himself a birthday. Well, even though he tried to sneak it through with a throwaway comment, we still wish him a haineshisway.com special birthday wish. True, he did not leave us enough warning to don our pointy party hats, our colored tights and pantaloons, did not leave us enough time to prepare our heaping platters of cheese slices and ham chunks (the soul food of haineshisway.com), but we still can dance the Hora and the Mashed Potato and by gum and by golly we shall do so posthaste.
Last night I watched a motion picture entitled Adaptation. Now, I liked Being John Malkovich as much as the next person, but by the end of it I was weary from its cleverness. As much as I enjoyed some of Adaptation, by its final third (I refuse to use the screenplay jargon mumbo-jumbo of “third act”) I was weary from its cleverness. In fact, I’d say the conceit of the last third, clever as its trying to be, is too clever for its own good. The performances, however, are excellent right down the line. Nicholas Cage is very good in two count them two roles (or two sides of the same person), Meryl Streep has fun, and Chris Carter is very good. However, neither Mr. Cage or Mr. Carter would be my first choices for the Oscar. For actor, my choice is still with Adrien Brody who, unfortunately, is the longest shot of them all. And, for supporting actor, I still go with Christopher Walken for Catch Me If You Can. Mr. Carter is excellent in the film, but I’m sort of baffled by the wild acclaim for this performance.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I’m concerned that the single whammy of the Evil Eye will soon turn into a double whammy of the Evil Eye and that would be more than I could bear on such a beautiful Saturday. So, without so much as a by/bye/bi-your-leave, let us click away.
Here we are, without so much as a by/bye/bi-your-leave. I don’t think I care for that expression at all. I think that is simply a stupid stupid stupid (that is three stupids) expression no matter how you spell the by/bye/bi. I just thought of something – we could do a controversial revisionist version of Bye Bye Birdie called Bye Bi Birdie. It could be directed by Sam Mendes.
Well, dear readers, it is getting thick in here with whammys of the Evil Eye, so I think I’d better take the day, I think I’d better do the things I do, I think I’d better get in my automobile and drive hither and thither and also yon, I think I’d better do me some errands and perhaps even purchase a DVD or two. Today’s topic of discussion: Excluding things like homes and gardens, what it the most money you’ve ever spent on an extravagant purchase for yourself, and what was the purchase, and why did you do it, and do you still have the purchase and would you do it again? I’ll start: About eight years ago I began collecting illustration art, original paintings that had been done for magazines, books, adverts, etc. I was in a gallery in New York and I saw an original J.C. Leyendecker Saturday Evening Post cover painting from 1921. I thought it was splendid (they had four, but I only liked this one – none of the four were in Mr. Leyendecker’s classic style of stylish men and women, or cupids, or babies). I asked how much it was and was told $35,000. After they revived me with smelling salts, they told me if I wanted it I could have it for $32,000. I went back home to Los Angeles, California and could not stop thinking about it. After all, it was a major piece by a major artist. So, after a week what I did was this: I went into my book room (I’d been collecting first editions for ten years), picked out fifty books, called a dealer friend of mine, read him the list, told him he had two hours to come over, look at them and decide, and that the price was $32,000. He came over, looked, and wrote me a check (they were exceptional books, and I think eventually he made close to seventy-five thousand dollars or more on them). I called the gallery and bought the painting. I had it on the wall for two years, and I did love it, but I decided that if I was to have a Leyendecker I wanted it to be a classic Leyendecker. So, I sold it – for $55,000. I ended up purchasing some other art with the profit and I’ve never regretted either the decision to buy or sell it. Your turn.