Well, dear readers, here I sit on a Saturday night, typing these here notes. Do you know how many times I have typed the sentence “Well, dear readers” since beginning these here notes in November of 2001? Well, certainly over 2000 times, given that we’ve never missed a day of notes, save for the very first weekend, when I wasn’t sure if I would do weekends. I wonder if anyone on any site has written a daily thing over 2000 times in a row with never missing a day. I would like to think not. And IF not, does that mean that we have the longest running daily thing in the history of daily things like this? And IF we do, shouldn’t we be in the Guiness Book Of World Records? In any case, here I sit on a Saturday night, apparently waxing nostalgic. I wonder how many pages of notes that would add up to? Perhaps five or six thousand? That’s the equivalent of, I don’t know, about twenty novels (at 250 pages per)? I just got a headache thinking about it. But, what fun we have doing it. Even when I’m at my most tired and ornery, writing these here notes has a calming effect on me, like a gazelle gazing at the moon on a Thursday in Cancun. Why have I gone off on this tangent? It must be because I’m sitting here on a Saturday night, writing the notes. Speaking of writing the notes, yesterday was a day that was pretty enjoyable. For example, I got up. That was pretty enjoyable. I then had to skeedaddle, for she of the Evil Eye arrived to clean the home environment. I drove about in my motor car. I drove here, I drove there, I drove everywhere. I visited a few stores that I enjoy visiting and made no purchases whatsoever. I stopped at Dolores to have a Jumbo Jim with cheese and extra Z sauce and some Suzie-Q french fries. I then came home and began the day’s writing. I moved along fairly quickly, and ultimately did as many pages as I’d wanted to. Then the handyman arrived. The sprinkler have not been working (they’re on an automatic timer and the timer hasn’t been timing – in fact the timer was not working at all). The gardener had come in several times, checking the fuses, looking for the problem, but couldn’t find it. I’ve been trying to get this fixed for three months now. I think the grass would be totally dead had it not been for the blessed rainfall we’ve had. In any case, the handyman, who is great, came out and checked it out. He could say there was no electricity getting to the timer. I also told him that I wasn’t getting electricity in the living room on that same circuit wall. He had a little device with him, which told him there was no juice in the electrical outlet outside. He did what the gardener didn’t know to do – in the plug itself is a “reset” button. He pushed it, but nothing happened. He came in the house and I showed him how the front lights in the room weren’t working, but that everything else was. He checked the plug on the wall that’s the back of the front of the house. He reset that, but still nothing. Then he asked about my painting of Astrud Gilberto – wanted to know who it was. While I was telling him, I tried to put on the little “special painting” lamp that illuminates the painting better. It didn’t work. He saw where that was plugged in, “reset” that plug and voila – everything worked – the front lights, the painting light, and the sprinkler timer. All is well in sprinklerville and it’s really nice to have someone who knows what they’re doing. I then finally sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture on DVD entitled Winter Kills. I’m sure I wrote about the DVD the first time I watched it, but I’m always happy to spread the Winter Kills gospel. The film is based on a novel by Richard Condon (The Manchurian Candidate), and was written and directed by first-timer William Richert. For a first time out, he assembled a pretty amazing company of players, including Jeff Bridges, Anthony Perkins, John Huston, Ralph Meeker, Brad Dexter, Richard Boone, and even Elizabeth Taylor. It’s about a Kennedy-like family and the younger son’s trying to uncover the conspiracy in his brother’s assassination. It’s very witty, very weird, very out there, and totally one-off. There really has never been a film quite like Winter Kills. And the history of the film is as weird and colorful as the film itself. The plug was pulled not once, not twice, but three times, and it ultimately took two years to finish it. And then Avco Embassy, despite love-letter reviews, killed the film. The writing is wonderful, the performances are top-notch from everyone straight down the line, and you will never see a weirder performance than Mr. Perkins’ performance in this film. The other night I was talking about how the scores of Maurice Jarre frequently hurt the films they accompany, but here his score is perfection and it really compliments the imagery. Mr. Richert’s direction (aided by the great camerawork of Vilmos Zigmond and John Bailey) is really excellent. The fact that he’s only directed about three things total tells you everything that’s wrong with the motion picture business today. The transfer is nice, and the featurette on the film’s travails is actually simple, and therefore very interesting and Mr. Richert is hilarious in discussing all the ups and downs of the film, and how he got the cast. If you’re in the mood for something completely original, seek this out – I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below and perhaps I’ll continue waxing nostalgic, which, frankly, could use a little waxing.
Yes, here I am, waxing nostalgic, for nostalgic has unseemly waxy buildup. Speaking of waxy buildup, today, other than writing at least five pages, I have no plans whatsoever and I’m quite happy about that turn of events. I’ll have to find something interesting to watch. And I suppose we won’t have the fun of Golden Globes reportage as they are, for all intents and purposes, cancelled.
As already mentioned, this upcoming week is a doozy, busy-wise. But, I shall gird my loins and also loin my girds and I shall greet each day with vigor and vim, not necessarily in that order. I’m hoping by the end of the week that the next batch of pages will go to muse Margaret, hopefully for her approval. I’m in this section of the book where lots of new characters and information is being imparted, and I’m trying to keep it interesting and fun, which is not always easy.
Now wait just a minute – let’s all put on our pointy party hats and our colored tights and pantaloons, let’s all break out the cheese slices and the ham chunks, let’s all dance the Hora or the Twist, because today is the actual birthday of dear reader TPunk. So, let’s give a big haineshisway.com birthday cheer to dear reader TPunk. On the count of three: One, two, three – A BIG HAINESHISWAY.COM BIRTHDAY CHEER TO DEAR READER TPUNK!!!
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, write, eat, write, and watch something interesting. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s free-for-all day, the day in which you dear readers get to make with the topics and we all get to post about them. Now, there has been an unfortunate tendency on free-for-all days for you dear readers to not do your topics – so let’s have some today, shall we? Let’s have loads of lovely topics and loads of lovely postings, as I continue to wax nostalgic, after which I’ll buff nostalgic.