Well, dear readers, I must hurry and write these here notes because I am home late, and not only that, she of the Evil Eye will be here first thing in the morning and I shall have to hie myself out of the home environment for a few hours. Yesterday was a lovely day in every respect. I got some writing done, I got several packages, I got two nice checks, and I had another spectacularly spectacular meal at Crustacean. What a restaurant. You don’t want to know from the prices, but if you eat there once a year it’s not so bad. We started off with the appetizer platter, which was, as always, fabulously fabulous. Then we both had the cracked crab from the Secret Kitchen – a whole crab swimming in garlic sauce. We split the marvelously marvelous garlic noodles, and we also had asparagus swimming in garlic. The latter dish was new to me and it was gloriously glorious. We topped off the meal the the Chocolate Lava cake – a small round piece of dark chocolate cake with vanilla bean ice cream and whipped cream. It was exquisitely exquisite and a perfect way to end the meal. Unfortunately, the real end of the meal was the check, but with food that good, I gave it nary a thought. All in all, a perfectly perfect day and evening.
Yesterday, I finished watching On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, starring Miss Barbra Streisand and Mr. Yves Montand. This movie was critically lambasted on its initial release and audiences were unenthused. As usual when this happens, a cult has arisen, just like that of Half a Sixpence and Finian’s Rainbow. There are people who just adore On a Clear Day. I didn’t like it back then, and I don’t like it much now. To start with, I hate the liberties taken with the score, both in cut songs and the not-so-hot rearrangements and new orchestrations by Nelson Riddle. Miss Streisand is fine in the acting department, but every time she opens her mouth and sings I wanted to scream. No one likes Miss Streisand’s voice more than I (especially in her prime), but she just adds so many layers of vocal pyrotechnics onto the music that she all but buries Burton Lane’s lovely melodies. Many people find Yves Montand miscast, but I rather like him in the film. The less said about Larry Blyden and Jack Nicholson the better. Vincente Minnelli was so far past his glory days at the time of this film and it really shows, with irritating zooms, standard back-and-forth cutting and weird choices for the songs. The English scenes are nice-looking, and some of the modern-day stuff is colorful and fun. Miss Streisand’s modern clothing is hurtful to the eyes. The transfer, for the most part, is really excellent.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button because time is flying by like a gazelle in a garter belt and I haven’t even got a title for the fershluganah notes.
Today I must deliver the latest batch of pages to my friend Margaret, and then await her thoughts. I must also do a few errands and also drive about in my motor car. I must then attend a motion picture screening at a neighbors house. I shall have a full report about that event.
I now have two Oscarcast invitations, but I have not decided whether I shall accept one of them or whether I shall stay home, so I can be here at haineshisway.com, posting away. I will probably choose the latter.
I still have no title for the notes. Maybe we should title the notes, Sir. Or Lord. Or Lady. Maybe not. I’m afraid you dear readers will have to come up with your own title for today’s notes. I will be interested to see your choices. We will put all the choices into our handy-dandy electronic hat and the chosen title will win a sparkling prize.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must beat a hasty retreat whilst she of the Evil Eye is doing her thing, I must write, I must be here for the removal of the old TV, and then I must attend the motion picture screening of Red Menace. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite Oscarcast moments, those memorable moments, whether touching, or hilarious, or downright or even upleft weird. In that latter category, I vote for the Allan Carr-produced Oscarcast where Rob Lowe did a musical number with Snow White. I remember sitting there thinking that the world of the Oscars had truly reached its nadir. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we? We shall.