Sep 17, 2005

but George is great

Yeah, George is great.

The above are a couple of lines from Shampoo.

Scintilating. Still, those lines make up my favorite dialogue in the whole movie. I always watch that scene over and over.

Every Saturday morning I start over. I say things to myself like:

..this is the week where I vow to go to yoga (at either of the relatively equidistant yoga places nearest to me) and not just walk by (whatever happens to be) the (nearest) yoga place (either one, it makes no difference) but to go inside (because, yoga, it's everywhere) and practice the art of yoga (anywhere).


..this is the week I vow to stop vowing things.

But then I go check my email. And then I check my blog. And it looks dusty. It needs an update.

So I ask myself, should this post be about watching Shampoo again, or about the fact that I have millions of things to do today?

Then I (still somewhat in my vowing to change-everything-this-weekend mode) light up fifteen cigarettes and drink a half gallon of espresso. Though, just one demitasse at a time. I'm civilized. I haven't lost my mind. And I think about (and, besides, the bottom line is that coffee and cigarettes are good for me) this Shampoo thing.

(Distraught, in a Russian accent:)
Why I watch Shampoo so much? Again and again? How come! Why so many times, this Shampoo? Why!

Then I conclude that it's Lee Grant. She is probably why I keep returning to Shampoo. Something about the way she says things. Like the word bank.

..So you actually went to the bhangck? ..You really want your own shop?

Now that I think of it, the way she says shop is almost as good as the way she says bank.

..You really want your own schahp?

There's a silent R in between the H and the P. But I didn't put it in because it looked confusing. It's there, though.

Yeah. Shampoo.

Of all the truly bad movies that I love, Shampoo it isn't the worst. Exposed would be the worst.

Exposed, the international thriller (taking the viewer on a spellbinding trip from Wisconsin to New york then to Paris, then breifly back to Wisconsin) starring Nastassja Kinski and Rudolf Nureyev. It's not available on DVD. It never will be. It is, however, available for $1.60 on VHS. That's mint condition. Never taken out of the package. Never watched. Because nobody has ever watched Exposed.

..what else do you play so beautifully..?

If you've seen Exposed, and you haven't, because no one has ever seen Exposed (except for me) then you know this line. And if you know this line, then you know why it's so great.

However, it is not the best line in Exposed. The best line is delivered (in all seriousness) by Nastassja Kinski in her thick West Berlin accent. She says,

..I'm from Wisconsin.

And nobody bats an eyelash. In the film anyway.

..Ihm fr-lohhhm Vishcrnsihn.

Yes. On some level, I'm sure we all are. From Wisconsin, I mean.


Right now I'm supposed to be looking for several outfits for my brother's wedding, which takes place over the course of two (consecutive) days. That is, act one (of the wedding proper) is followed (much later) by act two (the receiving of guests and party crashers disguised as guests). With all the other wedding stuff happening in the week previous. Meanwhile, parts I and II are sort of like a wedding sandwich, when you think about it. With a generous intermission (of non-wedding nothingness) in the middle.

The wedding. It's in two pieces. It's a Two Part wedding.

I can't wait. I can't believe it's almost here. My brother's wedding is going to be a really, really beautiful thing (things).

I've heard stories of these crazy weddings that are week long events. Made up of things like nightly cocktail parties (hilarity ensues), roastings (always embarrassing affairs), mock abductions of the bride (everyone becomes mock nervous), mock stolen wedding ring ordeals (everyone becomes mock appalled), some deer hunting (everyone becomes either mock or literally nervous and or appalled, it being difficult to differentiate between the two), scavenger hunts, Easter egg hunts, badmitten, progressive dinners, wine tastings, waffle parties, Polka festivals, and, sometimes even a house raising.

..It's a house built with love by your family and friends..! None of whom are architects..!

And, of course, there's always a nice gift bag at the end.

(out music)

Sep 4, 2005

maybe not

I have to wonder what I expected.

Google Earth, supposedly a great tool and touted to be loads of fun.

I downloaded the program.

I don't know what I was thinking when I did this. I just can't handle images of Earth as seen from space. I don't even like to look at the atlas. When I see the continents so big and realistic on a page I have to look away. Bas relief maps make me queasy. But then the installation of the program was complete. And there it was. Planet Earth. As seen from space.

I hate that.

It turns out that the start point for any search in Google Earth is way, way the hell out in outer space.

Still, I plugged in my own address, and suddenly (there is no warning, it just starts like all of this is perfectly natural) I was plunging towards Earth. Really fast. The landscape and every object on it becoming sharper as it became closer. As if you have been tossed out of an airplane. Not willingly, with any tutorial or a parachute (or having signed any waivers) but malevolently. With hatred. For the purpose of offing you.

This all happened in what I imagine was real time, that is, the real amount of time it would take a person to fall to the earth. From an airplane. Unwillingly. And land right on top of their building. Quite unnaturally.

And I did. I did land right on top of my building.

I admit, I had covered my eyes with the lattice of my fingers so that I saw only bits and pieces of the action.

And I decided that I didn't like this.

But, seeing as I was already there, I navigated through my neighborhood a little bit. I should mention that I felt very much like a spy as I was doing this. Which, for about a minute, was a good feeling. And not just any spy, but a Russian spy. Or a little bit like someone who works for the FBI. But this good feeling quickly became a creepy feeling.

And I noticed that the top of my building didn't look at all like what I had expected. But there were tell-tale signs that I was in the right place. And I pulled in close enough to see certain cars that I've seen around here. As well, the big mountain of dirt that has always been in the side yard. So, I followed the streets through my usual route to the el. And I stopped my cursor at the coffee place, which I do less and less in real life, and even stopping there with my cursor made me feel a little guilty (why exactly is my day better when I go get coffee?) Then I went to the lake shore, taking horendous short cuts never before taken in real life. I mean, I simply criss-crossed through town, jumping over the Kennedy, because I could. I visited the museum, and stopped for a moment at the building where I went to school. After which, I took mostly side streets. Finally, I followed the express way to my mom's house, which was nearly unidentifiable, as there are many trees where she lives.

And then I went back home. That's when I noticed that one of the buildings that recently went up on my block was not there.

That's when I concluded that these were old satalite images.

For some reason, I thought it was a live, streaming image. I was relieved that this was not the case. It seems more reasonable. Or less disturbing that it isn't a live image.


I'm afraid of this tool.

I think I'm going to get rid of Google Earth. Probably in the morning. Tuesday at the latest.