So I believe I've determined that I don't know enough about any one thing to ever put together another blog entry on a single subject, so rather than risk running out of Roman numerals with the "Shards" thing, I'd thought I'd just title the entire blog "Shards" and identify each entry by date.
That way, the pressure of trying to come up with 250 words on one issue would be eliminated. Eliminating pressure is one of my main goals in life.
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I finished reading THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO and immediately brought up the Swedish film version on my Blu-Ray via Netlflix. (Of course, I checked out what Roger Ebert had to say about it first.) I enjoyed the book. I loved the movie. Usually the other way around with me. And just about everybody. The film, featuring a number of actors whose names I can't spell, eliminated a couple of the sexual dalliances featured in the book, in order to more specifically focus on the mystery unraveled over the course of 140 minutes. Subtitles, of course, but that's never bothersome after a couple of minutes. I will now read the second installment in the "Millennium Trilogy," and, after that, check out the second film. I know there's an American version on the way, though I can't imagine casting could be any more appropriate than what the Swedes managed. I like George Clooney, too, but...come on....his name is way too easy to spell for this story.
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Speaking of sexual dalliances uncovered in film versions of best-selling novels--I'm reminded that, in Peter Benchley's JAWS, the Richard Dreyfuss character, Hooper, has an affair with the wife of Roy Scheider's character, Brody. How unnecessary that would have been to the Spielberg film. Besides, Lorraine Gary wouldn't have given Dreyfess a second glance.
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I stayed up until 2 this morning watching the Red Sox beat Seattle, mainly because I couldn't believe they blew a five-run lead in the ninth. That kind of disbelief can lead to all kinds of insomnia.
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Everywhere I drive this summer, there is construction. I had no idea there were that many orange barrels and cones in the world.
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I am totally infatuated with my new GPS. I love being told where to drive. I had originally gone with the female voice (I forget her name--isn't that just like a guy?), but that became way too distracting. I kept wanting to go to dinner and then drive to the Showcase Cinema and see "The Kids Are All Right." So I am now taking directions from "Jack," the voice that shares my name. I like to mess around with Jack's electronic brain every once in a while, and I will disobey his instructions just to hear how many times he can say "recalculating" without getting pissed off at me. So far, every time!
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I have set up the DVR to record the mini-series of Ken Follett's PILLARS OF THE EARTH this week. Ian McShane and Donald Sutherland. Hope it's as good as the book.
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The end of my daily run these days, now that I'm living in the wilds of New Hampshire, is a relentless one-mile incline. The first few times I tried it, I kept my head down and just looked at the road, forcing myself to not stare up the road at the never-ending hill. Lately, though, I hold my head up and laugh derisively at the mini-mountain as I trundle my way to the top. I always bring my iPhone with me, though, in case my derisive laughter turns into a cardiac event. Never had to worry about that when I ran around the very flat Edsen Cemetery on Gorham Street in Lowell.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Shards V (not so delayed)
So until I can construct one extended, cohesive thought, I'm gonna have to keep the "Shards" thing going. I'm trying to remember the last extended, cohesive thought, I had. Let me see...uh...
On another matter, I'm in Shaw's in Derry the other day, seeking out my beloved Waist Watchers aspartame free diet soda, when I see this kid, like eight years old, and not a miniature eight years old at that, sitting INSIDE the shopping cart his mother is hauling through the store. The kid (young adult) barely fits inside the thing, and his mother has to find whatever body-part-free nooks and crannies the lazy brat has left so she can stuff her various shopping items in them. He's sitting there, sucking on some kind of ice cream treat, while she's gathering foodstuffs and carefully inserting them in the parts of the cart where her son isn't. Okay, I'm coming down pretty hard on the kid when, truthfully, what the hell is this mother thinking? I hope she's thinking, "He'd better remember me when it comes time for the nursing home." And he'd better.
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The cable went out for a few hours yesterday afternoon, during the Red Sox game. And...I didn't care. Goes to show you what kind of season they're having. Plus, I dropped two notches down from leading my fantasy league this week. It doesn't help to have Pedroia, Buchholz and Justin Murneau all on the DL at the same time.
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I finished a short play which I hope will be part of the new Emerson College-Paramount Theatre event this fall. I utilized, once again, the two characters from my recent Boston Theater Marathon plays--Bethel and Clarice--who have been so beautifully played by Ellen Colton and Bobbie Steinbach. It's called CASTING AMANDA, for those of you keeping score.
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From the "My Mother Never Threw Anything Out" department--I just found my father's draft card from 1944. He never entered the service, but from the card it looks like he was 1-A. Perhaps the events in Normandy slowed things down a bit. Plus, I think he was kind of the head of his household at that time.
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Up until this year, I had not been in a swimming pool since 1973, when I broke down and took a swim in Gail Gilman's pool. Why, you may ask, if I'm such an aquaphobe, did I take a swim in Gail Gilman's pool in 1973? One look at Gail Gilman in 1973, and you'd have your answer. She asked me to. I did what I was told. Since that time, though, I've had no reason to indulge in any kind of waterfest. Now, though, with a beautiful pool in the backyard, I've come to see the attraction of a cool dip on a sweltering afternoon. "A Cool Dip On A Sweltering Afternoon." Sounds like the B-side of a bad Mel Torme 45.
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I listened to the Original Cast album of CHICAGO as I ran today. We're kinda thinking of doing the show at Dracut High School next spring. I have my fingers crossed, 'cause I'd love to direct it. Listening to the album also reminded me of the great, great show business career turned in by the late Jerry Ohrbach, who played Billy Flynn in the original. A New Yorker who pretty much stayed there, he fashioned himself a career that, while based in the theatre, spanned movies and TV, including superb work on LAW AND ORDER and in Woody Allen's terrific CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS. He was the original El Gallo in THE FANTASTICKS and the original stage version of Chuck Baxter in PROMISES, PROMISES. And then there was 42nd STREET. And many other shows. Amazing.
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Okay, I'm now guilty of over-using the word "amazing," and I will work to avoid using it in the future. I'm still trying to get the rest of the world off "awesome," but I'm failing miserably. Even when I suggest the far more jauntily tongue-tripping "wicked pissa" as a replacement.
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Two entries in one week. I'm exhausted.
On another matter, I'm in Shaw's in Derry the other day, seeking out my beloved Waist Watchers aspartame free diet soda, when I see this kid, like eight years old, and not a miniature eight years old at that, sitting INSIDE the shopping cart his mother is hauling through the store. The kid (young adult) barely fits inside the thing, and his mother has to find whatever body-part-free nooks and crannies the lazy brat has left so she can stuff her various shopping items in them. He's sitting there, sucking on some kind of ice cream treat, while she's gathering foodstuffs and carefully inserting them in the parts of the cart where her son isn't. Okay, I'm coming down pretty hard on the kid when, truthfully, what the hell is this mother thinking? I hope she's thinking, "He'd better remember me when it comes time for the nursing home." And he'd better.
-----
The cable went out for a few hours yesterday afternoon, during the Red Sox game. And...I didn't care. Goes to show you what kind of season they're having. Plus, I dropped two notches down from leading my fantasy league this week. It doesn't help to have Pedroia, Buchholz and Justin Murneau all on the DL at the same time.
-----
I finished a short play which I hope will be part of the new Emerson College-Paramount Theatre event this fall. I utilized, once again, the two characters from my recent Boston Theater Marathon plays--Bethel and Clarice--who have been so beautifully played by Ellen Colton and Bobbie Steinbach. It's called CASTING AMANDA, for those of you keeping score.
-----
From the "My Mother Never Threw Anything Out" department--I just found my father's draft card from 1944. He never entered the service, but from the card it looks like he was 1-A. Perhaps the events in Normandy slowed things down a bit. Plus, I think he was kind of the head of his household at that time.
-----
Up until this year, I had not been in a swimming pool since 1973, when I broke down and took a swim in Gail Gilman's pool. Why, you may ask, if I'm such an aquaphobe, did I take a swim in Gail Gilman's pool in 1973? One look at Gail Gilman in 1973, and you'd have your answer. She asked me to. I did what I was told. Since that time, though, I've had no reason to indulge in any kind of waterfest. Now, though, with a beautiful pool in the backyard, I've come to see the attraction of a cool dip on a sweltering afternoon. "A Cool Dip On A Sweltering Afternoon." Sounds like the B-side of a bad Mel Torme 45.
-----
I listened to the Original Cast album of CHICAGO as I ran today. We're kinda thinking of doing the show at Dracut High School next spring. I have my fingers crossed, 'cause I'd love to direct it. Listening to the album also reminded me of the great, great show business career turned in by the late Jerry Ohrbach, who played Billy Flynn in the original. A New Yorker who pretty much stayed there, he fashioned himself a career that, while based in the theatre, spanned movies and TV, including superb work on LAW AND ORDER and in Woody Allen's terrific CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS. He was the original El Gallo in THE FANTASTICKS and the original stage version of Chuck Baxter in PROMISES, PROMISES. And then there was 42nd STREET. And many other shows. Amazing.
-----
Okay, I'm now guilty of over-using the word "amazing," and I will work to avoid using it in the future. I'm still trying to get the rest of the world off "awesome," but I'm failing miserably. Even when I suggest the far more jauntily tongue-tripping "wicked pissa" as a replacement.
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Two entries in one week. I'm exhausted.
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