Well, dear readers, this week is flying by, like a gazelle with a whoopee cushion. I wonder if Whoopi Goldberg has a Whoopi cushion? The good thing about the gazelle is that I can use the damn thing whenever I’m at a loss for an opening sentence. We just pull out the old gazelle and voila, an opening sentence. And if I continue to get stuck then I can pull out the old Randy Vicar and tell the story of The Randy Vicar and the Polish Sausage. And if I continue to get stuck I can always do a bitch-slap or three. But I am stuck no more, having pulled out the entire barrage of things I could pull out.
Yesterday was a day. I don’t even remember it even though it just happened. Oh, I remember I got up, that I remember. I remember someone came over and purchased a few CDs, that I remember. I remember sky, it was blue as ink, that I remember. Or at least I think I remember sky. Oh, a Stephen Sondheim reference. I remember going to Jerry’s Deli and having the lovely penne pasta in creamy tomato sauce. I remember doing some banking and writing an obscenely large Kritzerland check. I remember picking up one package with a few items in it, that I remember. I remember doing work on the computer, and listening to four tracks of our next soundtrack release. I remember calling the Handy Man to come reset the sprinkler timer (I cannot figure out how to do it), because the sprinklers have been going on every other day, which is not how they were set – it transpires that the lovely power outage totally screwed it all up. It’s now set properly. I remember the helper coming by and getting invoices and shipping a few items. And I remember sitting on my couch like so much fish. Memories – like the corners of my mind. Misty watercolor memories, of the way Tuesday were.
Last night, I watched two count them two motion pictures on Blu and Ray. The first motion picture on Blu and Ray was one of those HBO movies, this one entitled Cinema Verite, the story of the making of An American Family, that Loud Family documentary of 1971, which was truly the beginning of reality TV. While I would welcome a release of that complete thirteen-episode series, I just never really understand the point of movies like this. It’s never that interesting, because it can’t ever compare with the real thing. The actors are all fine – Tim Robbins and Diane Lane as the Louds, and James Gandolfini as the producer of the documentary. But when all is said and done, it is, for me, all rather without point. It’s not that there aren’t interesting things in it, but, I don’t know, these kinds of movies just don’t do it for me. The transfer was very nice.
I then watched the second motion picture on Blu and Ray, which was entitled Badge 373, a 1973 French Connection wannabe that is almost a complete failure from start to finish, save for a wonderful performance from Robert Duvall. It’s based on the real-life exploits of cop Eddie Egan (here called Eddie Ryan). Egan plays a supporting role in the film. The screenwriter is Pete Hamill, who’s not really a screenwriter. It’s a lot of yakking, some truly bad action sequences, a score that, while nice as music, doesn’t really work dramatically, and a director who was a much better producer, Howard W. Koch. Here he’s both and he needed someone to make him cut twenty minutes out of the film (which runs two hours) – that would have helped a bit. There’s a very long cars chasing a bus sequence that is just so ineptly shot and so trying to cash in on French Connection – it’s a textbook example of how not to shoot a scene. The transfer looks just like it should for a low-budget, gritty 1973 film. I also watched the first twenty minutes of Camelot. I have given this film so many chances but I’m just never going to love it no matter how much I’d like to. It does have things that I like, especially the entire first meeting between Richard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave. Though the latter cannot sing the score, she is quite good in the acting department. I’ll finish watching it, but thus far, the transfer is a little too brown for my taste – it’s minor and not a deal-breaker, but I really wish they’d stop over there and look at dye transfer reference prints. The sound is pretty robust to my ears.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I must get a good night’s beauty sleep.
Today, I shall be having a visit from a local dealer, who’ll be picking up a couple of things. Then I’ll eat something soft and fun, then do errands and whatnot, continue with the contextual commentary, hopefully pick up some packages, hopefully get the rest of the tracks for our next release, and relax.
Tomorrow we have a Melody rehearsal, and then I’m supposed to have a dinner engagement but that will depend on when we start the rehearsal. I’m hoping it will all work out. Friday, my engineer and I will be going to the theater to scope out where he’ll live during the recording, although the recording is up in the air right now – the original cost of it has skyrocketed thanks to some initial misinformation. I have to go back to the charity and give them a new number and it will be up to them if they want to spend it. The problem is that the theater’s sound system has no provisions at ALL for us tapping into their board. We therefore have to rent a boatload of extra equipment, all of it costly. Most theaters have at least some of that equipment, but this isn’t one of them. We shall see. Saturday is a Melody rehearsal, and then Melody and I will be seeing the STAGE benefit, whether I record or not. Sunday is, of course, Melody’s sound check and show. I think we’re going to have a very nice crowd.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, do a jog if possible, have a visit, do errands and whatnot, eat, write, hopefully pick up some packages, hopefully listen to the balance of the tracks for our new release, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Ask BK Day, the day in which you get to ask me or any dear reader any old question you like and we get to give any old answer we like. So, let’s have loads of lovely questions and loads of lovely answers and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland where I shall undoubtedly dream of the gazelle, the Randy Vicar, and the bitch-slap – which is also the title of my next novel.