Benjamin Button

Also a pleasant surprise. First one to get audience applause when it
was over. I'm not sure if it's Best Picture worthy though - I'll have
to ponder that.

Sent from my iPhone

The Reader

Wasn't really feeling this one. It was okay but I can now, as
predicted, declare that someone was robbed!

Sent from my iPhone

Milk

I stand corrected. Milk was extremely well done and just MIGHT crack
my Top 5!

Sent from my iPhone

Top Five Friday: An Oscar Edition

Tomorrow will mark my second year where the day before the Oscars is spent at my local AMC Theatre in the movie equivalent of a long endurance race - the Best Picture Showcase.  Starting at 10:30 AM, my ass will be planted in a theatre seat watching all five of the Best Picture nominees back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back.  Whew.

It's a long, somewhat grueling day that had me incredibly cranky at the ending of No County For Old Men last year.  In case you've forgotten, you can now relive my rage from that night.

But tomorrow is a new day and it's time to "run the mile" again.  With that in mind, I'm going into this Showcase with certain expectations and preconceived notions so I thought it'd only be fitting to run down in order what I think I'll enjoy the most tomorrow.

NOTE:  Much like last year when immediately following Michael Clayton, I proclaimed that Sweeney Todd got robbed - I fully expect to utter that a few times with The Dark Knight, The Wrestler, Doubt, and possibly Wall-E as this year's victims of choice.

5.  The Reader

Now, to be fair, I know very little about The Reader.  In fact, when the nominees were announced, I was absolutely clueless to what this was even about.  Soon enough though, I found things that made me cautious.  It's apparently sorta a Holocaust movie.  I've never seen Schindler's List and it's pretty much the standard-bearer for that "genre" so I'm not particularly excited about seeing this.  Then, I find out Kate Winslet's in it and since she was partially responsible for three of the most painful hours in a theatre I can recall...  

But there's slight hope.  I hear the Holocaust thing is an undertone and not the overreaching story.  Then, someone mentions that Winslet is naked through a large chunk of the movie.  I'm sure that's an overstatement and I'm not sure ordinarily that'd be enough to make me watch the film but hey... it can't hurt, right?  And finally, someone who has actually SEEN all 5 movies already told me this was the best.  I'm holding severe doubt on that one but I was magnificently surprised by Atonement last year so... we'll see.

4.  Milk

Reviews on this one from people I trust to do reviews all seemed to say the same thing:  Sean Penn's performance is amazing but the movie?  Well, that's not all that great.  And not to be the insensitive prick here but is anyone else getting the vibe from this one that people aren't allowed not to like it because of the subject matter?  It's like Philadelphia or any Denzel movie where he's a black guy put into [INSERT 'BLACK GUY FORCED TO DEAL WITH RACISM AND 'THE MAN' SCENARIO HERE!]  It's almost like if you see you don't like it, you're a bad person.  I'm hoping I'm wrong on this one but... well, I'm not hopeful that I am.

3.  The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button

This is such a polarizing movie.  When it first came out, all I heard was how fantastic it was and that I was an idiot for not racing out to see it.  Now that people have had some time for reflection, this one is suffering some serious backlash.  I was kinda in the middle about seeing this when it first came out and my desire to see it has slowly slip-slided down the road since then.  But of the movies I've listed so far, this is the one I have the most hope for.  Besides, some say it's the same movie as Forrest Gump and I love that damn movie.

2.  Slumdog Millionaire

I've already seen this one and I adored it.  I have a hard time imagining that any of the others will come close to touching it.  I'm undecided if I'll skip out on this one to go grab dinner or not since it's the second to last movie of the night.  I'd really like to see it again, I think.  We'll see!

1.  Frost/Nixon

This is legitimately the only one of the Best Picture nominees that I actually WANTED to see when it first hit the cineplexes.  I'm not entirely sure why.  It's some piece of that former history major in me, I'm sure.  I have high hopes for this one and I think it possibly could be my favorite of the day.  But it's in the death slot - starting at 9:45 PM when I'll start thinking about how I have to be at work at 7 AM on Sunday.  This could easily put me down for the count if it starts to drift.

In the end, I'm pretty sure this is how my Top 5 will go heading into Oscar Night.

1.  Slumdog

2.  Frost/Nixon

3.  The Reader

4.  Benjamin Button

5.  Milk

And in the end, I'm pretty sure I'll be staring at the final closing credits wishing it was...

1.  Slumdog

2.  The Dark Knight

3.  The Wrestler

4.  Doubt

5.  Frost/Nixon

Just a hunch.

I might pop in throughout the day tomorrow with brief thoughts on each flick since it'll probably be my only chance to post tomorrow.

A quick one

Little too tired to write much but I read this at work today and I had to call upon my manliest of manly feelings to not openly cry.  I seriously started to tear up! 

First there were all the "slow jams" on the Mixtape Of The Month... now this?  What's happened to me?!

Dodger Spring Training: The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

We're a few days into Spring Training now so I thought it might be an opportune time to take a look at how our Boys In Blue seem to be fairing in the opening days of training camp in scenic Glendale, Arizona...

The Good

     Ethier avoids arbitration

           Arbitration is always a tricky thing for a fan.  On the one hand, you'd like to see your team not get financially raped but if the player has it coming to him, you don't want to see him get hosed either.  But the real hard thing with arbitration is the feelings it created.  The team feels the player wasn't worth what he wants and that he's being unreasonable in his demands.  The player feels the team doesn't respect his contributions.  No matter how the hearing results - and the Dodgers haven't lost one since Kim Ng took over on that front - bitter feelings seem to always remain.  So, I was very happy to hear that the Dodgers avoided going to arbitration with any players this year with a last-second deal with Andre Ethier.  And when I say "last-second," I mean it as apparently the deal was signed in the hallway outside the hearing.   Hopefully both sides can put it behind them and get down to business.

The Bad

      The Dodgers' Starting Pitching Woes

           Despite some good news on the Jason Schmidt front - it appears he may actually be ready to take the #5 slot in the rotation for the start of the season - this area of the team is a definite weakness and an area to be quite concerned with.  With the departure of Brad Penny and more specifically, Derek Lowe, over the past few months, the Dodgers faced a situation where they really could have used more than Randy Wolf.  The current rotation looks like Chad Billingsley, Hiroki Kuroda, Clayton Kershaw, Randy Wolf, and Jason Schmidt - which on paper should be solid at worst.  Buuuuuuut... well, Billingsley is coming off a broken leg in the off-season... Kuroda's still talking about shoulder tightness... Kershaw's just a kid... Wolf is Wolf... and Schmidt hasn't pitched in ages.  There's a ton of rookies and journeyman jostling to make the team as well but it's obviously a problem spot.  I'm optimistic but very realistic at the same time.

The Ugly

     Brad Penny vs Larry Bowa:  Let's Get It On!

           And not in a sexy Marvin Gaye kind of way either.  Penny fired the first shot earlier this week by going on to the Boston media about how happy he was to be out of LA since apparently he felt we wanted him to pitch hurt last season.  He also called out Larry Bowa for talking shit about him to other players behind his back.  Bowa retaliated by questioning his heart, his work ethic, his stamina, his loyalty and a few other things.  It was really quite the fiery reply so there's obviously some bad blood there.  In the end though, it never turns out well when a player blasts his former team.  To his new team, he already looks like an ungrateful whiner with questionable team spirit.  To his old team, they feel betrayed [especially the fans] for the support they gave him all along.  It's all part of modern sports though so what can you really say?

Maybe I'll make this a weekly thing throughout the spring.

Anyone like that idea?

Superman is WHO?!

You've gotta love geeky humor that half the world just won't get...

Where's Fonzie To Start The Jukebox Back Up When You Need Him?

If you enjoyed the stuff about Indie 103 last month, check this out...

Bruce Is Still The Boss

I don't think I wrote much about this 'round Super Bowl time but my primary reason for wanting Super Bowl Sunday off of work was not to watch the game as I really couldn't give a shit about that [although it was an amazing game] nor was it to watch commercials as it usually is [I just didn't care for most of them this year.] No, the reason I wanted to be glued to my couch that day was for the Halftime Show.

The Boss was comin' to town and as longtime readers here know, Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band would on any given Sunday be my answer to the question...

"Who is your favorite band on Earth?"

Now, you're probably asking yourself why I'm writing about this close to two or three weeks late.

Well, since it's my day off, I'm sitting here in my makeshift "office", listening to the crazy rain fall down outside, and digging through my slew of mp3 blogs for this week's hidden treasures. I visited my usual three and then decided to try a handful of others that were linked to from my favorites.

And there it was...

Bruce's Superbowl Diary!

Originally from brucespringsteen.net, take a look...

SUPER BOWL JOURNAL

I
Six Air Force Thunderbirds have just roared overhead at what felt like inches above our backstage area, giving myself and the entire E Street Band a brush cut. With 20 minutes to go, I'm sitting in my trailer trying to decide what boots to wear. I've got a nice pair of cowboy boots my feet look really good in, but I'm concerned about their stability. Two days ago we rehearsed in full rain on the field and the stage became as slick as an ice pond. It was almost impossible to stand on. It was so slick I crashed into Mike Colucci, our cameraman, coming off my knee slide, his camera the only thing that kept me from launching out onto the soggy turf. When Jerry the umpire in "Glory Days" did his bit, he came running out, couldn't stop himself and executed one of the most painfully perfect "man slips on a banana peel" falls I've ever seen. This sent Steve, myself and the entire band into one of the biggest stress-induced laughters of our lives that lasted all the way back to our trailers. (A few Advil and Jerry was okay.)

I better go with the combat boots I always carry. The round toes will give me better braking power than the pointy-toed cowboy boots when I hit the deck. I stuff my boots with two innersoles to make them as fitted as possible, zip them up snuggly around my ankles, stomp around in my trailer a bit and feel pretty grounded. Fifteen minutes…oh, by the way, I'm somewhat nervous. It's not the usual pre-show jitters, not "butterflies," it's not wardrobe malfunction anticipation anxiety, I'm talking about five minutes to beach landing, "Right Stuff" "Lord Don't Let Me Screw the Pooch in Front of 100 Million People" one of the biggest television audiences since dinosaurs first screwed on earth kind of semi-terror. It only lasts for a minute…I check my hair, spray it with something that turns it into concrete and I'm out the door.

I catch sight of Patti smiling. She's been my rock all week. I put my arm around her and away we go. They take us by golf cart to a holding tunnel right off the field. The problem is there are a thousand people there, tv cameras, media of all kinds and general chaos. Suddenly, hundreds of people rush by us in a column shouting, cheering…our fans! And tonight also our stage builders. These are "the volunteers". They've been here for two weeks on their own dime in a field day after day, putting together and pulling apart pieces of our stage over and over again, theoretically achieving military precision. Now it's for real. I hope they've got it down because as we're escorted onto the field, lights in the stadium fully up, the banshee wail of 70,000 screaming football fanatics rising in our ears, there's nothing there. Nothing…no sound, no lights, no instruments, no stage, nothing but brightly lit unwelcoming green turf. Suddenly an army of ants come from all sides of what seems like nowhere. Each rolling a piece of our lifeline, our earth onto the field. The cavalry has arrived. What takes us on a concert day 8 hours to do is done in five minutes. Unbelieveable. Everything in our world is there…we hope. We gather a few feet off the stage, form a circle of hands, I say a few words drowned out by the crowd and it's smiles all around. I've been in a lot of high stakes situations like this, though not exactly like this, with these people before. It's stressful, but our band is made for it…and it's about to begin…so happy warriors we bound up onto the stage.

II
The NFL stage manager gives me the three minute sign…two minutes…one…there's a guy jumping up and down on sections of the stage to get them to sit evenly on the grass field…30 seconds…they're still testing all the speakers and equipment…that's cutting it close! The lights in the stadium go down. The crowd erupts and Max's drumbeat opens "10th Avenue." I feel a white light silhouette Clarence and I for a moment. I hear Roy's piano. I give "C"'s hand a pat. I'm on the move tossing my guitar in a high arc for Kevin, my guitar tech, to catch and it's…"ladies and gentlemen, for the next 12 minutes we will be bringing the righteous and mighty power of the E Street Band into your beautiful home. So…step back from the guacamole dip. Put the chicken fingers down! And turn the TV ALL the way up!" Because, of course, there is just ONE thing I've got to know: "IS THERE ANYBODY ALIVE OUT THERE?!"

All I know is if you were standing next to me, you would be. I feel like I've just taken a syringe of adrenalin straight to the heart. Before we came out, I had two major concerns. One, something might go wrong beyond my control. That completely disappeared before we hit the stage. Tonight our fate is in the hands of many, so no sense for useless worry. Two, I was worried that I would find myself 'out' of myself and not in the moment. My old friend Peter Wolf once said 'the strangest thing you can do on stage is think about what you're doing." This is true. To observe oneself from afar while struggling to bring the moment to life is an unpleasant experience. I've had it more than once. It's an existential problem. Unfortunately, right in my wheel house. It doesn't mean it's going to be a bad show. It may be a great one. It just means it might take time, something we don't have much of tonight. When that happens, I do anything to break it. Tear up the set list, call an audible, make a mistake, anything to get "IN." That's what you get paid for, TO BE HERE NOW! The power, potential and volume of your present-ness is a basic rock and roll promise. It's the essential element that holds the attention of your audience, that gives force, shape and authority to the evening's events. And however you get there on any given night, that's the road you take. "IS THERE ANYBODY ALIVE IN HERE?!"…there better be.

I'm on top of the piano (good old boots). I'm down. One…two…three, knee drop in front of the microphone and I'm bending back almost flat on the stage. I close my eyes for a moment and when I open them, I see nothing but blue night sky. No band, no crowd, no stadium. I hear and feel all of it in the form of a great siren like din surrounding me but with my back nearly flat against the stage I see nothing but beautiful night sky with a halo of a thousand stadium suns at its edges. I take several deep breaths and a calm comes over me. I feel myself deeply and happily "IN."

Since the inception of our band it was our ambition to play for everyone. We've achieved a lot but we haven't achieved that. Our audience remains tribal…that is predominantly white. On occasion, the Inaugural Concert, during a political campaign, touring through Africa in '88, particularly in Cleveland with President Obama, I looked out and sang "Promised Land" to the audience I intended it for, young people, old people, black, white, brown, cutting across religious and class lines. That's who I'm singing to today. Today we play for everyone. I pull myself upright with the mike stand back into the world, this world, my world, the one with everybody in it and the stadium, the crowd, my band, my best friends, my wife come rushing into view and it's "teardrops on the city…"

III
During "Tenth Avenue" I tell the story of my band…and other things "when the change was made uptown"…. It goes rushing by, then the knee slide. Too much adrenalin, a late drop, too much speed, here I come Mike…BOOM! And I'm onto his camera, the lens implanted into my chest with one leg off the stage. I use his camera to push myself back up and…say it, say it, say it, say it…BLAM! BORN TO RUN…my story…Something bright and hot blows up behind me. I heard there were fireworks. I never saw any. Just the ones going off in my head. I'm out of breath. I try to slow it down. That ain't gonna happen. I already hear the crowd singing the last eight bars of "Born to Run" oh, oh, oh, oh…then it's straight into "Working on a Dream"…your story…and mine I hope. Steve is on my right, Patti on my left. I catch a smile and the wonderful choir, The Joyce Garrett Singers, that backed me in Washington during the Inaugural concert is behind us. I turn to see their faces and listen to the sound of their voices…"working on a dream". Done. Moments later, we're ripping straight into "Glory Days"…the end of the story. A last party steeped in merry fatalism and some laughs with my old pal, Steve. Jerry the Ump doesn't fall on his ass tonight. He just throws the yellow penalty flag for the precious 40 seconds we've gone overtime…home stretch. Everyone is out front now forming that great line. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the horns raising their instruments high, my guitar is wheeling around my neck and on the seventh beat, I'm going to Disneyland. I'm already someplace a lot farther and more fun than that. I look around, we're alive, it's over, we link arms and take a bow as the stage comes apart beneath our feet. It's chaos again all the way back to the trailer. A toast…our families, friends, Jon, George, Brendan, Barbara, with Don Mischer, Ricky Kirshner, Glenn Weiss, Charles Coplin, and Dick Ebersol, the great team that put it altogether and the end of a good football game.

IV
The theory of relativity holds. On stage your exhilaration is in direct proportion to the void you're dancing over. A gig I always looked a little askance at and was a little wary of turned out to have surprising emotional power and resonance for me and my band. It was a high point, a marker of some sort and went up with the biggest shows of our work life. The NFL threw us an anniversary party the likes of which we'd never throw for ourselves (we're too fussy) with fireworks and everything! In the middle of their football game, they let us hammer out a little part of our story. I love playing long and hard but it was the 35 years in 12 minutes…that was the trick. You start here, you end there, that's it. That's the time you've got to give it everything you have…12 minutes…give or take a few seconds. The Super Bowl is going to help me sell a few new records, that's what I wanted because I want people to hear where we are today. It'll probably put a few extra fannies in the seats and that's fine. We live high around here and I like to do good business for my record company and concert promoters. But what it's really about is my band remains one of the mightiest in the land and I want you to know it, we want to show you…because we can.

By 3 am, I am back home, everyone in the house fast asleep and tucked in bed. I am sitting in the yard over an open fire, staring up again into that black night sky, my ears still ringing…"Oh yeah, it's alright."

BSG vs Lost: Week Four

Alright, alright - let's get it on.

So, in an interesting twist, both shows had a lot of similarities this week. They both seemed a bit like "filler" shows leading into the big stuff. And more importantly, they were both stuffed with lots of backstory to appease some of the diehards looking for answers.

Over on Lost, we got to see Rousseau's crew get struck with "The Sickness" that we first learned about so, so, so long ago. We also got to see what appears to be the home of the smoke monster. Plus another appearance by Christian/Jacob? Here's my question - so we presumably just saw Locke get off the island to go talk to the Oceanic Six, right? And we know there was at least a decent period of time between when that happened and the "present" we're seeing with the Six right now, right? And we also know that there was a decent length of time between when the Six got off the island and when Locke got off the island, right?

So, how in the hell is time working on the island? Crazy stuff.

Over on BSG, it was time to learn some Cylon backstory. It was wild stuff and really helped flesh that out. The big news on BSG is that there's apparently another Cylon that we didn't count before. I have my suspicion as to who it is but I'll keep it under wraps for now. But really, I didn't think BSG offered that much up other than the Cylon history lesson. There was a few other plot advancements of note but on the whole, it was greatly underwhelming considering how awesome the two mutiny episodes were.

Round Four goes to Lost!

After four weeks:

Lost - 2
BSG - 2