The other day, as i listened to some (quite respectable) local band of whom i’d never heard previously, i nodded my head to the music, and enjoyed it, and once in a while thought, “what is she saying? i almost caught a word.”
and then i closed my eyes again, and just listened to the music, and forgot to care about the words.
a few years ago, in a movie theater in la, a trailer came on. it had familiar music, ad shots of a desert. there were words referring to the history of the character. a sharp intake of my breath made b. jump. “what’s wrong?”
i couldn’t speak. i just waited to see if…
but i was wrong. there wasn’t a new indiana jones movie, this was not a trailer to it. how, after all, could it have been made without me ever hearing one word? i felt silly after i realized my mistake.
and now, years later, i am able to click on a link and see it: what took my breath away that day.
it’s a terrible name. let’s let that slide. and i will tell you what i really think about the new trailer.
the trailer is long on backstory, history, “remember when?” shots designed to get your blood flowing and to bring back good memories of the franchise. fine, but it’s not like we forgot, you know? and the trailer’s only a couple of minutes long, so…
then we get a couple of new shots. nazis, etc. nothing amazing.
and then…the hat on on the ground. boots walk over to it. a hand picks it up. the silhouette on the truck lets us know: it’s time.
cue the music. cue the action. cue the wisecracks.
now, as far as wisecracking action heroes, i’m as pro-that as the next guy, but a couple of times they break the reality of the scenario–bad guys wait for him to deliver his line before fighting. or indy makes a winky/postmod ackowledgment to the audience that it’s beena while, and “aren’t ya glad i’m back?” kinda thing.
indy–spielberg–lucas–we know what we’ve got coming. we know what’s going to be great about it. and you elbowing us in the ribs just takes us out of the reverie! anyway, i mean, come on, he’s swinging from rafter to rafter with his whip like tarzan? come ON!
still, it comes out two days before my birthday, so anybody wants to wish me a happy one, i’ll probably be at the alamo, waiting in line to see it again.
it is, after all, still indy.
here ya go, casting agents. his name is truck. and ladies: he’s single.
(props to b. for being a better pet photographer than me.)
cc: mark cuban
dear devean;
(it’s weird to spell your name like that, knowing as i do that it’s pronounced ‘devin.’ but i’ll do right by you and your mama.)
i rarely talk sports here. mostly because i don’t care about sports, except for the dallas mavericks, and i know very few people who share this with me, and the ones who do i see regularly and don’t often read the blog.
but this is too big not to mention. and once in a while, the news sources quote “the blogosphere” as public opinion, and i’ve heard mark cuban actually listens to the common man once in a while, and i’m extemely common. (more…)
there’s a reason all your friends always hate your girlfriend.
it’s pretty simple. besides the first few weeks when she’s all you can talk about, once it starts turning into a relationship, you don’t say anything else about her. she’s just a part of your life, and what’s there to say?
until shit goes wrong. and then you storm out of the house, go hang out with a buddy, and won’t shut up about how wrong she is, and how messed up she’s treating you, and what a bitch.
and then you go back to her, work it out, and later, when your friends asks you how things are going, and they crunch up their eyes sympathetically and expectantly, you say, “oh, it’s cool now.” and that’s all you say. (more…)
the other day, driving around the east side, looking at run down houses that might be better off just being bulldozed over, we got a little lost.
not lost, exactly. but we didn’t know the best way to get from A to B. so i whipped out the iphone.
i got an iphone for christmas. it was the only thing in the world i was asking for, and it’s been everything i dreamed. though as i told the nice realtor who knew the area even less than we did, i’m still learning how to use it as anything more than an entertaining toy.
it sat on my social calendar for the last two weeks. it was mentioned repeatedly to friends–this saturday was the “second annual beard and moustache contest at club deville.”
there was already hair on my face, though i need a lot more than two weeks’ notice to put anything that would be called a “beard” or a “moustache” (esp. that could be entered into a “contest”) together. still, i thought it would be a fun event to attend. irony being something i enjoy (and a hipster being something i enjoy…um, being). i noticed somewhere online it said, “all contestants win prizes. winners win better prizes.”
hey, there was some hair on my face. and everybody wins! cool.
plans were made.
a while back, a girl in my writing class announced that she was being flown out to l.a. by mtv to screen test for a new “reality” dating show starring an italian dude from the tila tequila dating show. (the inanities of this last sentence should not be lost on you.) when asked if she truly thought this italian guy–the star of the show, for whose affections she would be competing against who knows how many other girls–if she truly found him attractive, she said, “who cares? i just want to be on tv.”
