No. 118 (essentialsaltes) wrote,
No. 118

As promised... tikis, muppets and nearly 4 hours of bonus material

Saturday morning, Rebecca found the cartoons too violent and annoying, so she was happy to find Dirty Harry on another channel. Later that morning, we had another junkie incursion in the backyard. It was the same guy who hopped the fence last time. Looked like he wanted to take a whiz and needed some privacy. Pumped up with the spirit of Harry Callahan flowing in my veins, I grabbed my Desert Eagle and blew his head clean off. Actually, I went out and performed alpha male dominance games and I got the skinny junkie scampering back over that wall PDQ.

Next stop... Pink's. There were some stringers from the BBC in line ahead of us with a big binder of Oscar stuff. All three were playing with cellphones and running in and out of line. One of them stared at me for a while with an "Are you somebody?" look on his face. He decided I wasn't. I've decided that the way to figure out if a somebody is in line at Pink's is that the somebodies are the people who aren't looking around to see if somebody is in line.
Rebecca talked me into being brave, so I mustered (mmm.... mustered....) my courage to order a Poli-Bacon Burrito Dog. This is a spicy polish sausage, two slices of cheese and three strips of bacon... all slathered in chili and wrapped in a flour tortilla. It is exactly as insane as it sounds. I made it about two-thirds of the way through before my heart started waving the white flag. Rebecca had a much healthier meal: an Ozzy dog (Spicy Polish dog, nacho cheese, American cheese, grilled onions, guacamole & chopped tomatoes) She made it five-ninths of the way through it.
Before the fat clogged our cerebral arteries, we continued on our way north and east to La Luz de Jesus. We picked up some tiki salt and pepper shakers for Becca Creamer and a gift for the McInnises.
Back home, had a little time to chill and then went off to the Tiki Birthday Party at Ma and Pa Creamer's. They live close enough to us that we walked to the party. Which is a good thing, considering how much run wound up in my belly.
The party was another fabulous Amy Creamer creation, and her sister seemed to have a great time being the star, as she celebrated both a birthday and an engagement. And evidently Prime & Megan are also engaged and are rushing down to the altar sometime this summer.
Anyway, we staggered home and hit the hay. Rebecca popped up in the morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I crawled out of bed significantly later, feeling like a limp noodle. Three drinks doesn't sound like a lot (plus however much of Rebecca's Coconaut I helped her with) but they were all powerful poisons, despite the little umbrellas. Rebecca fixed me a hangover omelette and he headed off for the McInnises. I was still feeling bad enough that the motion of the car was making me nauseated, something that never happens. But I didn't toss my tiki and we were welcomed by Brian and Kristen. They very much enjoyed the present: Hilaire Belloc's Cautionary Tales for Children, illustrated by Gorey. We got to meet Kristen's parents, who are nice folks -- Kristen sounds very much like her mother.
The plan of action was painting the nursery. They chose Muppets as their theme. They used overhead projectors to trace the outlines of the characters, and they had divided everything up so that it was sort of a paint-by-numbers. It was well-organized, and we just hopped to work. There were 8 or 10 of us altogether. Enough that there wasn't quite room for everyone to paint at once. I did most of Rolf's body, and various bits of brown elsewhere on the nursery frieze.
I sucked down a sandwich and half a beer (my hangover had largely dissipated) and we headed back down the freeway to home. A bit later, we ordered some soup and appetizers from the local Chinese place, and turned on the Oscars.
I was gratified by the wins for Lord of the Rings. Tolkien got his due, despite the enormous manhandling he received at the hands of the Academy Award-winning screnwriters. My other complaint would be 'Best Song', where I think "A Mighty Wind" got robbed; honestly, the LOTR song and the two songs from Cold Mountain were mushily indistinguishable from each other. The "Triplets" song would have been acceptable, but I think it should have gone to "A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow", despite its appearance in a parody.
Anyway, enough complaining. On the good side, LotR's success means that we will see more fantasy film (well, the financial success of the first of the trilogy guaranteed that). So, there is the hope that there will be more *good* fantasy films also. Seldom are studios going to put the kind of care and attention into a film that Jackson's team did, but if the studios' attitude changes from "that's kidstuff that we can make for cheap" to "that movie is potentially a billion dollars of revenue", we may see better made films. I know Elric is in the works, so maybe I should go work on a Fafhrd & Grey Mouser screenplay.
Also, it was awesome to hear Peter Jackson mention Bad Taste and Meet the Feebles on the Oscar telecast.
Apart from LotR, the Jack Black/Will Ferrell intro to the song award was brilliant. It made the Starsky and Hutch duo look just as bad as the presenters who get up there and uninflectedly read scripted jokes off the teleprompter. Speaking of the teleprompter, I didn't like Liv Tyler's hair, but when she put on her glasses to read her spiel, she was giving off ultrapowerful sexy librarian vibes. I could almost forgive her character's unnecessary presence throughout LotR.
Naomi Watts wins the award for actress most deserving of a nice big sandwich, though there were several other offenders in this category. Uma Thurman's dress was terrible. One of the hobbits looked like there was a straw nest on his head. Peter Jackson looked like himself, and his wife's 'do was silly. Everyone else looked mahvellous.
Tags: art, bio, film, party

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