Well, dear readers, we’re talkin’ fireworks here at haineshisway.com. I see no reason to shilly-shally or even shally-shilly, we’re talkin’ fireworks and that’s all there is to it. Why are we talkin’ fireworks? Because today is the 4th of July, in case you didn’t know. Yes, today our flags will be waving, we’ll all be dressed in red, white, and blue, and maybe even some pink and fuscia as well. We’ll be saying ta ra ra boom-deyay all the livelong day. We’ll be wearing our boaters and we’ll be doing Onna White choreography wherever we may be. But, above all, we’ll be having safe and sound fireworks right here at haineshisway.com. You must all find the best fireworks you can on the Internet, and you must post them all the livelong day and evening. Additionally, we will be barbecuing our wienies. Let us not forget the barbecuing of the wienies. For those who are not into wienies (you know who you are), then we shall be barbecuing other things, like breasts and thighs, and ribs, and big slabs o’ meat. Let us not forget about the big slabs o’ meat. What a festively festive day we shall have and I don’t want to hear any malarkey about people being too too busy to celebrate. I don’t want to hear any malarkey about guests and vacations and errant and truantness. I want a partay, dear readers, and I want it to swing, baby. I want a swingin’ 4th of July around these here parts. What fun we shall have. We shall all wear our Speedos and other bathing dresses, and we shall romp about like a gazelle eating a barbecued wienie. Butt, before we do any of that, may I just tell you what a relaxing day I had yesterday. It will be a brief telling, because I didn’t do anything. I managed to get a wonderful night’s sleep and didn’t arise until ten-thirty. I then oiled myself up and went outside, where I basked in the glow of the sun whilst re-proofing the galley. I keep finding yet more mistakes, but I do believe I’m being so careful this time, that I’m hoping this will be the last go-through other than a cursory glance once we print out the next corrected version. I will then be sending said corrected version to my pal, Mr. Dick Lochte, the wonderful mystery writer, who, if he likes it, is going to blurb it for me. I hadn’t talked to him since he’d read Writer’s Block, so I was happy to hear that he enjoyed it. After basking in the glow of the sun, I came in and basked in the glow of the home environment. Then I took a walk, then I ate, then I took a drive. It was lovelier than lovely, and my batteries are recharged and I’m rarin’ to meet the new week, which will be a busy one indeed, what with rehearsals with Mr. Kevin Spirtas practically every day, meetings, dinners, events, and whatnot.
Yesterday I watched two motion pictures on DVD. The first motion picture on DVD was entitled Another Time, Another Place, a Paramount film in VistaVision, which I’d never seen. It’s a complete potboiler, and not a very good one at that. It stars Lana Turner, Barry Sullivan, and Glynis Johns, as well as “introducing” someone named Sean Connery. The cast is all very good, but it’s just a turgid soap opera. It’s short, so that was good. The transfer, image-wise, is superb, another Paramount winner. The sound occasionally is muffled, but it’s acceptable. The second motion picture on DVD was entitled The Getaway, un film de Sam Peckinpah, starring Mr. Steve McQueen and Miss Ali McGraw. I am not a Peckinpah fanatic, like our very own Mr. Nick Redman (who can be heard on the commentary track), but I do know a masterpiece when I see one (Ride the High Country, The Wild Bunch). The Getaway is not a masterpiece, nor is it close to being a masterpiece. It’s a good little film, which has problems almost from the first frame. I’m not that big a fan of the elliptical editing form of, I believe, Mr. Roger Spottiswoode, who was editorial supervisor on this film. So, the beginning scenes simply annoy me. Once it gets into the planning and execution of the bank robbery, it gets much better. Mr. McQueen is terrific, as always, as is Ben Johnson and a very cute, thin, and perky Sally Struthers. But, the major problem of the film, for me, is Ali McGraw, who I think is simply one of the worst actresses who ever had star billing. The score by Quincy Jones is okay, but, having heard the original by Jerry Fielding, I must say I think the film would work better had they not dumped Mr. Fielding’s music. Transfer is fine.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below, because, after all, it’s the 4th of July and fireworks are a comin’.
I’m quite blonde again, but not as blonde as earlier this year. I’m medium blonde. I got a few wolf-whistles whilst walking down the street in my jeans and shirt, swingin’ my hips, and lookin’ all bad boy. Or was I dreaming that? Last night, for example, I dreamed I went dancing in my Maidenform Bra.
Later this afternoon, I shall be attending a barbecue, but I won’t stay there more than two hours, because this is where the real partay will be taking place. I will, of course, have a full report on the barbecue upon my return.
Oh, and yesterday, we happily got a few more Kritzerland orders in. Love that.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must finish proofing, I must bask in the glow of the sun, I must try to write a paragraph or three, and I must attend a barbecue. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your all-time favorite film and theater poster art and logos? I’ll start – Saul Bass’ marvelous posters for Exodus and West Side Story, and also Mr. Bass’ Bunny Lake is Missing. I love the Chinatown poster art (by Jimmy Pearsall, who would go on to design the Nudie Musical “girl”), too. From the theater, I love the poster art for Li’l Abner, I love the poster from West Side Story (the shot of Larry Kert and Carol Lawrence running down the street), Annie has a great logo, and the logo art for Cats, whatever you think of the musical itself, is brilliant. Your turn. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst we get ready to barbecue our various and sundried wieners whilst we watch explosions of festive fireworks.