the long and winding road trip awaits plus oscar & movie madness
this past wednesday night provided a glimpse of things to come. tame by the usual standards but still strange enough to wet the appetite for more total unabridged insanity. can the gout be far behind? i want to court that almost arcane disease and become it’s mad lusty suitor. perhaps to walk the streets with my foot bandaged in linen. a silver tipped cane in my hand. a jaunty top hat on my head. ah, yes.
however, before i go i want drag a couple of things out of the vault. it’s oscar weekend and time to celebrate the movies i don’t go and see anymore. both of the oldies are movie and/or oscar related ditties. i hope you find them amusing. i’ll see you when i get back here to the land of la la’s and the valley of smoke. peace to you all.
jmh
oscar night
yeah, oscar night, it’s tonight. it ain’t what it used to be. then of course just what the hell is? i don’t go to movies anymore. the whole experience is just annoying these days on all sorts of levels. i buy em instead. cheap. watch em at home. very seldom anything new. for the most part the old stuff of my youth or somewhat newer stuff. yeah, even the stuff from before i was born. movies i can watch. movies i can relate to. movies that might even mean something to this old scarred and pissed off lion. all that being said, i have something for this used to be, sacred evening. something sad and tragic. my take on one of the last sad acts of the original king of cool, steve mcqueen.
the dust and heat…
hung in the tijuana air like a freeze frame from hell. cars honked and clamored looking for an inch in which to move. nothing ever did. in sunglasses and old clothes he moved through it all. no one knew him. he moved slowly looking for the place. if you looked at him closely you could see the disease at work. taking what was left of his life and mocking him with each painful step. finally the place. the earthly waiting room for hell.
the bell above the door tinkled when he opened it. as the door closed the hell from the streets outside stopped and the smell of the office over came him. a small greasy headed man got up from behind an equally greasy desk and spoke.
ah, senor bullet, you have come.
yes, on the phone, you said you could help me?
si. yes, i can. por favor, follow me.
through the cluttered outer office and into the dank dismal treatment rooms they went. a strange but familiar odor growing in the man’s nose. the small mexican finally stopped at a dirty examination table. he turned and said.
please, senor, you must deesrobe.
ok. the man replied.
he was resigned to it. it was all that was left. this final sad humility of an approaching death. a last chance stop on the road of life.
hokay, meester bullet, now you must assept these enemas of the coffees to cure you cancers. por favor, on the tables. you must spread you nalgas for
me.
a tear formed in the corner of his eye as the man moved to comply. only to be used as substance by a very large nasty house fly.
outside the dust, heat, and noise, for that moment, stopped. something had gone from us all. forever. in an instant they all began to move. again. to oppress. again. moving us closer to this hell on earth.
jmh
ok. so if i was gonna do this desert island movie deal on the same desert island i’m doing my desert island music along with a couple of hot asian babes and some nice iced chinese beer or bottle of vino or three or some very very cold absolut. yeah, it’s a run-on sentence going nowhere. i’d be needing me either a nice theater set-up or a 62 ford falcon wagon in which to watch and play around in while the movies were playing on the large drive-in screen or flat screen tv. though i guess when you really think about it they are actually one in the same. just from different eras. but both the same. drifting i know. but you have to set stuff up or it’s…
1. ‘the godfather 1 & 2′. no doubt. it has to be right up on top. plus they have to be as one. though there’s a case to be made for part 3 as well. it doesn’t sing at all and it sucks but it does sorta round stuff out. 3 ain’t on the list.
2. ‘apocalypse now’. i originally saw this in one of those old cinerama dome thingys and i was ducking bullets. a great movie. i’m still not sure if i like the re-deux deal he did a few years ago. i think it slows things down and just gets in the way of the other stuff.
3. ‘abbott and costello meet frankenstein’. yeah, boy, this is right up in the top ain’t it? it should be. my goodness, you have bud and lou at their finest along with bella, lon jr, and frankie. though not boris’ frank but good enough. i saw this one for the first time on tv as a little kid one halloweenie night. it scared the crap out of me while i was laughing at bud and lou.
4. ‘full metal jacket’. love you long time and me so horny. yeah, baby. not as dreamy as number 2 on this list but it gets the job done. stellar.
5. ‘good fellas’. a great movie and i watch it every chance i get even if it’s on cable loaded up with commercials. plus it’s got tony soprano’s shrink in it and she is still one of the hottest non-asian babes going.
6. ‘invasion of the body snatchers’. the original b/w deal. another scary movie. this one supposedly has cold war overtones. i was always too scared to notice any of that in the movie.
7. ’she wore a yellow ribbon’. you have to have the duke in any top ten movie list or you really aren’t paying attention to the movies. it could be any movie from his vast catalog but one or more must be in there. she wore a yellow ribbon is a great film about old soldiers and being in love. also see number 10.
8. ‘a fistful of dollars’. if only for bringing clint to the screen so he could do what he did after this one. none the less it re-wrote cowboy movies. one more time.
9. ’stagecoach’. the original b/w version though the outlaw color version with willy, kris and waylon is pretty good too. just goes to show what a good script and idea can do if you let it roll. plus it’s that other duke film i was talking about. yeah, the comancheros, rio bravo, the searchers, the quiet man, fort apache, the sands of iwo jima…
10. ‘my darling clementine’. well, it’s hank fonda doing what he did so well along with john ford and monument valley doing what they both did so well. as a matter of fact monument valley is still doing it to this very day. a glorious place. when visiting be sure to stop at the burger king and visit the ww2 navajo code talkers shrine inside the burger king. yes, it’s a bit surreal but what about life isn’t?
there they are my top 10 desert island movies. of course, i’ve left off numerous good ones. then there’s ‘pulp fiction’. ouch. i still don’t get that one and i’ve never been able to sit thru the whole thing and yes i’ve tried a few times and i really don’t want to hear how great the movie is ok? thanks. because i do not like it. period. same goes for ‘gone with the wind’. that one i’ve sat thru. several times. unfortunately.
then there’s oliver stone. i guess it’s because i don’t care for his work. the only movie by him i actually enjoyed was ‘natural born killers’. the rest of his stuff i have no use for.
sure there’s ‘dr strangelove’, ‘the pink panther’ series with peter, antonino’s cult classic ‘blow-up’, zeffirelli’s ‘romeo and juliet’, ‘bullet’, ‘the big sleep’, ‘the african queen’, ‘treasure of the sierra madre’, ‘bonnie and clyde’, ‘the wild bunch’, ‘the magnificent 7′, ‘the bellboy’, ‘12 o’clock high’, ‘psycho’, ‘north by northwest’, fellini, ‘vertigo’…i think you get the drift. amazing stuff. plus there’s scores and scores more.
we all have our favorites. some are the same and some aren’t even on the same planet. doesn’t matter. damn, let’s just nuke some popcorn up and slip a dvd into the machine. kick back and enjoy.
jmh
a little bit of roadtrip madness
yes, boys and girls, it’s almost that time again. time for another fear and loathing road trip up into the true heart of darkness. it begins very soon. a nine or ten day trip to the central valley and the insanity that awaits. lurking like some fiend from the bowels of hell. i say, bring it. it’s time to rock ‘n’ roll, once again. the addled oldsters banging back old tom barleycorn, vino vertas, plus beer for breakfast and lunch like there’s no tomorrow. and perhaps there isn’t.
three nights of supreme depravity and debauchery steep like a sleeping succubus while the cabin in the sierra foothills sits getting even colder as more snow silently falls. great mounds of the white stuff sit and wait to be used as a refrigerator for the beer, white wine, and vodka. sweet, jesus, life is good.
the imagination races and roils at the thought. let the weekend begin. let madness reign. rock ‘n’ roll.
jmh
time for something completely different part 4
I know it’s been a little while since I last wrote anything here. I’ve been busy so I haven’t really had the time. You know busy doing kitty stuff. Plus, it’s been raining a lot here and it’s been cold too so I’m sleeping most of the time.
I heard mom talking to dad on the phone this morning. She was telling him that I wasn’t happy with all of the rain because the front door hasn’t been open for me to sit there and watch the birdies. She’s right. I don’t like the rain for that very reason.
Mom and dad are going out to a big Valentines Day dinner and dance at a local winery tomorrow night. As usual, I don’t get to go. It would be nice if they would at least invite me to tag along. I mean I don’t have to hang out with them and be social. I could just cruise the wine cellar area in the winery looking for mice to play with while they drink wine and eat osso bucco or whatever it is they will eat. If I found something I could bring it in for everyone to look at and they would all say what a wonderful kitty I was. Why someone might even give me a glass of champagne and ask me to dance. Now, that would be very nice. Don’t you think?
Anyhow, I might even tell you about their evening if they think it turned out ok. I may even do it even if they don’t think it went ok. I don’t care. All the rain is making this little kitty a bit crabby. I think I’ll bite dad when he comes over today and picks me up for a hug. Oh, ok, maybe not. It was just a thought. Perhaps an evil one but a thought none the less.
Meow for now.
Kwayla
I tried and tried to get mom and dad to take me to the Valentines evening dinner at the winery. No matter what I tried they wouldn’t budge on the no go thing. I was pretty upset because I wanted to go looking for mice. About all I ever find and catch around here are crickets and the occasional moth. I’m sick and tired of crickets. I need some bigger game to stalk and stuff. Smarter game as well. Crickets are stupid and dumber than that poodle that runs around outside here. I’m thinking mice have to be pretty smart. Maybe one day I’ll find out.
Well, the big evening finally came around and mom and dad got all dressed up and ready to. I kept trying to make them change their minds about me tagging along but it was no good. So, I waited till they were both all set and almost going out the door and I went into my bathroom and laid a really nice stinky bomb for them. I was even impressed. Dad wasn’t happy at all. He realized if they left it in my box until they got home they would probably be really sorry they did. So he cleaned out my box while he was wearing his nice clothes. He wasn’t happy and was saying lots of stuff I never heard before.
Mom and dad had a nice time at the dinner. Lots of wine to drink and the food was pretty good. Or so they say. Nice people to meet and talk to as well. I don’t know I wasn’t there. But orange and spinach salad, osso bucco with saffron risotto and broccoli rob, along with a nice chocolate cheesecake sounds pretty good to me. Plus champagne before dinner along with a nicely paired wine with each course. They even got a free bottle of champagne to take home with them. Wow, being human has lots of perks, huh?
Dad even got to have a very nice chat with the winery owner. And got to pet the owners son’s dog for a while. Pretty cool stuff but if I had been there it would have been even cooler. I would have bit the dog.
They had a DJ there and mom and dad even danced several dances. They were sorta disappointed most of the songs were fast because they wanted to dance slow and make-out. Mom was pretty drunk by then and dad was sorta too. Any ways, they danced slow to a few of the fast songs just because they could.
I suppose it was a very fun evening for them. It wasn’t much fun for me but I had a fun rest of the weekend with both of them hanging around the house because of the rain. I got lots of play time in with dad and only needed to pretend bite him a couple of times. Mom, on the other hand, got nailed on the foot a few times for messing with me.
I hope you all had a nice Valentines Day and weekend. Maybe next year will be better for me and I’ll get to stalk mice for my Valentines Day.
Oh, you may want to visit the place where mom and dad went saturday night and often go to other times as well: http://josephfilippiwinery.com They say it’s a very cool place.
Meow for now,
Kwayla
adios, molly
molly got her start in music on the old rex allen radio show singing covers of hank williams tunes. she was only 10 years old. at 13 she had her first hit in 1952 singing the novelty tune, ‘i saw mommy kissing santa claus’.
i mostly remember her from the old so calif tv show called ‘hometown jamboree’ which starred the late great, tennessee ernie ford. i cut my country and western teeth on that old show and the music generated by it. along with the show ‘the hoffman hayride’ starring spade cooley. both shows were local staples on los angeles tv in the 1950’s.
adios, molly bee, RIP.
the cast of ’hometown jamboree’. molly, seated in the front row to the right of ernie ford.
molly later in her career.
jmh
cemetery escort duty
a friend of mine sent me this in an email. it’s another one of those things by an unknown author. whether it’s true or not really doesn’t matter much. it sings and hits notes all on it’s own. for those that are wondering…yes, it did.
jmh
Cemetery Escort Duty
I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey’s. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever–the heat and humidity at the same level–both too high.
I saw the car pull into the drive, ‘69 or ‘70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail’s pace. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers–about four or five bunches as best I could tell.
I couldn’t help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: ’She’s going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I’m ready to get out of here right now!’ But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.
Kevin would lock the ‘In’ gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey’s in time
I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.
I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman’s squint
‘Ma’am, may I assist you in any way?‘
She took long enough to answer.
‘Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.‘
‘My pleasure, ma’am.‘ Well, it wasn’t too much of a lie.
She looked again. ’Marine, where were you stationed?‘
‘ Vietnam, ma’am. Ground-pounder. ‘69 to ‘71.‘
She looked at me closer. ’Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I’ll be as quick as I can.‘
I lied a little bigger: ’No hurry, ma’am.‘
She smiled and winked at me. ’Son, I’m 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off. Let’s get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name’s Joanne Wieserman, and I’ve a few Marines I’d like to see one more time.‘
‘Yes, ma ‘am. At your service.‘
She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flowers out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn’t quite make out. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.
She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.
She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.
She paused for a second. ’Two more, son, and we’ll be done‘
I almost didn’t say anything, but, ‘Yes, ma’am. Take your time.‘
She looked confused. ‘Where’s the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.‘
I pointed with my chin. ’That way, ma’am.‘
‘Oh!’ she chuckled quietly. ’Son, me and old age ain’t too friendly.‘
She headed down the walk I’d pointed at. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn’t make out.
‘OK, son, I’m finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.‘
Yes, ma’am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?‘
She paused. ‘Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all marines.‘
She stopped. Whether she had finished, or couldn’t finish, I don’t know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully.
I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.
‘Get to the ‘Out’ gate quick. I have something I’ve got to do.‘
Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rules to get us there down the service road. We beat her. She hadn’t made it around the rotunda yet.
‘Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.‘ I humped it across the drive to the other post.
When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny’s voice: ’TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!‘
I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye–full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud.
She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice.
I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.
Instead of ‘The End,’ just think of ‘Taps.‘
As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer: ‘Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.‘
Let’s all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before in our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.
‘In God We Trust.’
Sorry about your monitor; it made mine blurry too!
If we ever forget that we’re one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under!
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