To Live and Die In LA

Watched William Friedkin's To Live and Die In L.A. the other night and dug it very much. It's sort of an L.A. answer to Friedkin's French Connection, and while it's not as good as that film, it's still a really cool 80s movie artifact, and a cracking good thriller. The story of an obsessed Secret Service agent on the trail of an evil, murderous yet brilliant and talented counterfeiter, the movie screams 1980s - from the vivid color scheme to the score by Wang Chung. No, that's not a joke, Wang Chung scored the movie - you may vaguely remember the almost-hit title track. While the film definitely displays plenty of Friedkin's trademark style and obessions, it could almost be mistaken for the work of Michael Mann. Willem Dafoe and William Petersen are both terrific in the film, playing basically unlikeable characters. Petersen's the hero and we're supposed to like him, I guess...but he's pretty much a louse, not unlike Gene Hackman's Popeye Doyle in French Connection. It may not suit all tastes, but I really enjoyed it.

Boston says the A-Rod deal is dead, Texas says it still has a chance. I no longer know what to think, or even what to root for in this issue. The AL East should be a wild ride in 2004.

Harumph

I don't have time to write much this morning, so, suffice to say, Andy Pettitte going to Houston really peeves me. As much as I blame Steinbrenner, and his candy-ass attempts to take over the reigns this off-season and plunge the Yankees back into the mid 1980s, I'm pissed at Pettitte, too. The press made it sound like the Yankees didn't really make Pettitte the high priority they claimed he was, but who's to say for sure except Steinbrenner, Pettitte & Cashman? Andy was always too much of a bible-sniffer for my taste, but he got the job done, and with a modicum of style. I know it's horribly old-fashioned, but after winning 149 games and four World Series with the Yankees, I would have thought Pettitte might want to stay (for MORE money) and spend his whole career in pinstripes, break Whitey Ford's team win record, go to the Hall of Fame, etc. I guess he'd rather "go home." Whatever. The Yankees are now in a jam, and only Pettitte and the Yankees know of who's making it really was.

Winter approaches...

I know it's still autumn, but damned if it doesn't feel like winter, what with all the snow on the ground and the freezing temperatures (okay, actually I think it was 34 or so yesterday, whatevah...). I'm battling off some sort of weirdo cold. I feel okay, but my head is stuffy and my eyes are red and watery. I cough for a bit, and then it disappears for half a day. I don't get sick very often, and I feel like my body can't decide if it's ill or not. I have a long ass work week coming up, plus Christmas shopping and that friggin' three hour Lord of the Rings movie on deck, so I vote for "not ill."
I've been thinking about movies that are perfect for watching on those snowed-in days. Some people would go for all summery, warm, tropical locations and so forth, but I actually like to reinforce that feeling of being inside and cozy on a cold, snowy evening. Therefore, I like watching cold, snowy, wintery movies. The two that leapt to mind were David Lean's Doctor Zhivago and John Carpenter's remake of The Thing. Oh, and Ice Station Zebra, but I've never seen that. I'd like to though. Does anyone want to lend me a copy?

No, its not a musical.

I finally got around to watching The Haunting last night. No, not the cheesy, special-effects overrun 1999 flick with Liam Neeson and Catherine Zeta-Jones, but the much, much cooler 1963 version with Julie Harris and Claire Bloom, directed by Robert Wise. Both films were adapted from Shirley Jackson's novel "The Haunting of Hill House," and while I've never read the book, it's a safe bet the '63 version is truer to Jackson's written words. Wise does such a great job here, it's easy to forgive him for the bloated duds he spent too much of his later career making (and I like The Sound of Music). The story goes that Wise only agreed to take over The Sound of Music (William Wyler was originally to direct) if Fox would let him make The Sand Pebbles (which I dig, largely because of Steve McQueen), and of course, as we all know, The Sound of Music made an obsene amount of money at the box-office and went on to win 312 Oscars...but I digress.
Wise was an editor at RKO before his directorial career, and he notably edited Citizen Kane and The Magnificent Ambersons for Orson Welles. The influence of Welles and specifically Kane is deeply felt in The Haunting. Wise's use of the camera to create and sustain tension, dread and atmosphere is flat-out masterful. He succeeds in making Hill House one of the starring characters of the film--we regard it as as important a presence on screen as any of the flesh and blood actors at any given moment. The cast is excellent throughout (Harris is a bit over-the-top, but it works for the film) and there are a handful of genuinely scary moments, with virtually no special effects. Wise creates scares from mood, lighting, camera work, sound effects and psychological dread. The result is certainly more haunting than most of today's effects and gore-laden "horror" films.

Listening to Paul Westerberg's new cd, Come Feel Me Tremble. It's my first time through, so I can't give a definitive opinion yet, but I like it. Nothing earth-shaking, just good basic Westerberg.

Okay, I have to run...A Charlie Brown Christmas comes on in 3 minutes!

Hot Stove Hoop-de-doo

It's safe to assume any baseball fan now knows that Curt Schilling is now a member of the Boston Red Sox. Schilling going to the Sox doesn't bother me nearly as much as the sleazy way the Diamondbacks went about dealing him. The message was clear though: most teams do NOT want to deal with the Yankees. Arizona asks the Yankees for their two best young stars (Soriano and Johnson) for a 37 year old pitcher, and then accepts that ehhh package from Boston instead. Hell, if it was really about Richie Sexson, you'd think the Yankees could have gotten him for Arizona too. Oh well, I'll just have to root for the Sox rotation physically breaking down next year, which isn't really a very far-fetched idea, considering the health of Pedro and Schilling over the years. To be honest, I've never liked Schilling, he always seemed like a bit of an egocentric redneck (hmm, sorta like the Rocket?), and now I like him even less. It was pretty hilarious to hear yet another athlete talk about how "...it's not about the money." Why do they even bother with that one anymore? What's it about then, the dental plan?

Now the word is that Sheffield is going to the Yankees , which I have no problem with. Ideally, I'd like a centerfielder so they could move Bernie to LF (I love Bernie, but his range is diminishing each year and his arm has never been worth a damn), but I can live with a Matsui-Williams-Sheffield outfield. Of course, the rumor is that Williams will become a DH, which would mean dealing Nick Johnson. This idea I really don't like--not only do I really like Johnson (and his steadily growing OBP), but given Giambi's health woes, do you really want to get rid of your younger, better-fielding first baseman? I suppose I could live with dealing Nick the Stick if he brought back Vasquez or Colon, but I dunno...Oh well, I have faith that the Yankees won't do anything 1980s-style stupid and will put a terrific team out there.

..and he didn't own that movie ranch.

Warren Spahn, the winningest left-handed pitcher in baseball history, has died at the age of 82. Rob Neyer has an excellent appreciation of Spahn's achievements in his ESPN.com column. I was finishing up the Koufax book last night on the LIRR and there was a mention of Spahn and Koufax's lobbying to add him to the All-Century team a few years back. I pulled into Port Washington, put the book away, walked home and as soon as I sat at the PC, I read that Spahn had passed away. Weird.
I lost at poker again, by the way. I won one nice big hand and that was it. Crappy cards, bad decisions, you name it--I lost every which way. Luckily, it didn't cost me much money...but I really have to get off the snide.

been a long time, been a long time...

I caught some good rock'n'roll last Thursday night: The Detroit Cobras and The Greenhornes at the Mercury Lounge. Both bands would be considered part of the late 90s-early 00s Garage Rock revival, which I happen to really enjoy. I can see how some people might see the neo-Garage trend as just that, a trend, a bit ersatz, but I think its the most refreshing thing to happen to the rock scene in years. "Indie" rock is actually fun again. These bands seem to have remembered how much fun it is to play rock'n'roll music. This isn't dour, navel-gazing, rhythm-less "rock," it's souped-up, pounding, thumping, dancing, hip-swingin' rock'n'roll! The Cobras essentially play punked-up 50's r&b, while the Greenhornes play mid-60s style rock'n'roll, clearly influenced by The Yardbirds above all (they even covered the Yardbirds' "Lost Woman"). The Cobras are the more memorable band, but both were a lot of fun.

My Caption of the Day

Do you think Bill might be saying "I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart!"

Lord of the Trophies/Rings

Barry Bonds just won his SIXTH MVP award, and his third in a row. SIX F'IN' MVP AWARDS, FOLKS. That's twice as many as Mickey Mantle or Joe DiMaggio, it's a truly staggering number. I felt Bonds deserved the award again, but a great case could be made for St. Louis' Albert Pujols, and I thought it would be a much tighter vote. Anyway, it was Barry in a walk (no pun intended), and his legend grows and grows. Next stop, Babe Ruth. It's amazing that Bonds won his first MVP in 1990, and he's still winning them easily thirteen years later. How often is the best player in the game (any game) still the best a decade later?

I watched Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers again last night. I'd seen it once before, in the theater last winter, and I enjoyed it far more the second time. It's not that I didn't like it the first time, but I was feeling logy and it's a long freakin' movie. Consequently, I was trying to stay awake half the time and getting antsy waiting for things to wrap up. When you're in a hurry, waiting for the Ents to get their wooden asses in gear is interminable. Last night I was able to really enjoy it. I haven't seen the "Extended" version of the first LOTR, and I'm not dying to see the longer version of Two Towers that was just released today, but I suppose I'll see them both eventually. I've been told that the longer versions add a lot of character development and nuance that make the stories much richer and satisfying, but jeez, they're already three hours long. It's amazing when you sit through a movie this long and realize how much they had to cut out. Personally, they don't seem bloated to me in their theatrical release versions, but my friend Will Simon quipped, "Howard Hawks could havd told the same story in 82 minutes." Well, he probably could have, but he'd have Walter Brennan play Gollum. Hmmm, now who would play Aragorn in Hawks' version, Bogie, the Duke or Cary Grant?

One more note on The Two Towers: it sure was good to see Brad Dourif in a major movie again. He was so good in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and then in John Huston's sadly overlooked Wise Blood, he's always a welcome, if slightly creepy presence on my screen.

...also, I'm currently finally reading Jane Leavy's Sandy Koufax: A Lefty's Legacy, and it's pretty fantastic thus far.

A-Rod Wins, Random thoughts.

Alex Rodriguez finally won the AL MVP today, in a very tight race. Although I'm not sure I would have voted for him this year (I thought Carlos Delgado and Jorge Posada had excellent cases), I'm happy he won. He's deserved it before, and I'm glad the BBWAA got over their last-place bias.

In other baseball notes...Rob Neyer has a good piece today discussing why the Yankees are so good and why they're likely to remain so good. I'm just happy to see him write about something other than the Red Sox. Also, Japanese star Kaz Matsui has announced he's coming to the major leagues. I don't know much about him, beyond the stats (which are impressive), but it's said the Yankees will probably make a run at him, possibly moving Soriano to centerfield. We'll see.

Retromedia has closed! I'm so very bummed out about this. I had only recently discovered the site and now it's being yanked away from me--I had so many clips left to watch! Maybe we should all throw money at this guy so he re-opens the site.

34-24-34?

It's Tuesday again, which for me means it's 24 night. Yes, I am among those TV geeks who never miss an episode. It's now season 3, and I'm still going out of my way to catch every second of this ridiculous show. Don't get me wrong, it's good TV: exciting, creative presentation, great production values, strong acting, etc. However...c'mon, it's pretty absurd. As super-agent Jack Bauer, Kiefer Sutherland has been injured more in 3 seasons than Mickey Mantle was in 18, and still never misses a beat, not to mention the wild turns the plots and characters take at the drop of a dime. Last season Kiefer had a hunk of wood lodged in his leg after a plane crash. He tore it out, limped around with a grimace for about 5 minutes, and then resumed running all over Southern California to foil the bad guys. An episode later, you'd never have had any idea he'd suffered such an egregious injury.
However, for most 24 fans, our main source of angst is Kim Bauer (Elisha Cuthbert), Jack's daughter. I think most fans, especially males, really want to like her. First of all, she's extremely hot, with that sexy yet innocent "You can bring me home to your parents with pride and you can also bend me over the sofa at 2 am" look, and besides, she's the beloved daughter of the hero...but sheesh, do the writers of this show make her look stupid. Half the time she seems very with-it, sharp and tough, and then the writers always contrive to make her do the dumbest thing possible. In both of the first two seasons, she's gotten stuck in ridiculous "Perils of Pauline" type emergency situations that no thinking person would ever get themselves into. So far this season, that's eluded her, but she's spent the first three hours of the latest international crisis worrying about when she can tell her Daddy she's dating his new partner. As Ed Pancreas summed it up: "Daddy, I know dere's a viral coming and killing peoples but me got a boyfriend! Me got a boyfriend! Teeheeheehee!"
If I were Elisha Cuthbert (and I think we can all be thankful that I'm not), I'd be planning my hissy fit for the writers and producers. Hey, a couple seasons ago she was a kid, largely unknown (at least in the US) and thankful to have such a great gig. Now, she's getting movie offers (like looking adorably sexy in the way I described earlier in Old School), her picture is constantly being splashed around in celeb mags and the internet...in short, she's a rising young star, and pretty essential to the show. They've already killed off Jack's wife and had his ex-adulterous lover turn out to be an evil double-agent (who wound up killing said wife), chances are they're not going to kill off the daughter. So, Elisha, now is your time to demand that your character stop being so freaking stupid and self-absorbed. Let Kim save the freakin' day, just one time, please? Because even with that questionable new hairdo, she's really, really hot.

American Icon Soup

One more thing about Mystic River: for days now I keep singing Willie Nelson's "Whiskey River," changing "Whiskey" to "Mystic." It's easy to fall into, hard to stop, and given the content of the film, highly inappropriate.

Old West Action

Caught Clint Eastwood's latest directorial effort, Mystic River, the other day. Man, this is an excellent flick. Its one of the best things Eastwood's ever done, and I'm of the school that that's saying a lot. It's probably his best work since Unforgiven, and at least since the underrated A Perfect World. Clint doesn't appear in the film, instead he's working with one of the strongest ensemble casts of recent years, i.e. Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Kevin Bacon, Laurence Fishburne, Marcia Gay Harden & Laura Linney. What's nice to report is that the lesser parts are just as ably handled. No one delivers a false performance - everyone rings true, as does the look and feel of the film.

I won't rehash the plot of the film, you can find that anywhere. Suffice to say, it's heavy stuff, definitely not a good "date" movie (unless you happen to be dating a child molester, murderer or small time gangster from a blue-collar Boston neighborhood). As I said, everyone's very good, but Penn and Robbins really stand out. It's Penn's best work since Dead Man Walking, and Robbins' best to date. Playing a man with a wound that cannot be healed by time, Robbins' body language is extraordinary. He stoops his shoulders, hangs his head and presents himself as a wounded child in a grown man's body--as if time stopped for him on that fateful day in his youth, while his body marched on. Penn is a walking mass of conflicting emotions, coiled like a cobra, but with genuine pain and loss in his eyes. We're never sure if he's longing to renounce bloodshed forever, or longing to let it seep back into his pores.

Eastwood's direction is sure-handed and smart - he doesn't waste frames showing off, and maintains a certain level of anxiousness and dread from beginning to end. In Mystic River, as in Unforgiven and A Perfect World, violence is presented as a disease, akin to alcoholism. It infests the lives of those consumed with it, and spreads to those around them, innocent or guilty. Eastwood's characters try to back away from the violence in their pasts, but somehow relapse, fall off the wagon and slide back into the blood and brutality that's been the ruin of their lives. The best flick I've seen this year, and deserving of the hype.

International Steakfishing

I had a bizarre dream last night. In it, I apparently worked at Saturday Night Live. I was working in a dark blue office with no windows, and we all worked in cubicles. The week's guest host was James Caan, and I was told to go speak to him about something. Caan had found one sketch absolutely awful and over-long. I read it and agreed with him, and he asked me to have someone write something better. I went back to the writers and producers and told them what he'd said, at which time they instructed me that it was just the 12:50 am skit anyway, so it didn't really matter, and why didn't I write a new one? It was my first day on the job and I'd never written anything for the show, so I was apprehensive. Nevertheless, I began to wrack my brain for an idea. Suddenly, I had it: The International Steakfishing Competition! In my sketch, two red-blazered sports announcers would broadcast the International Steakfishing finals - wherein two beautiful women would be fishing and reeling in cooked steaks. Why they were beautiful women instead of typically gruff looking fishermen, I have no idea. They would reel in a filet mignon, a strip steak, a london broil, etc. I remember that I had one of the commentators remark, "Look at those grill marks!" at one of the catches, and I'd written in one of those "Up close & personal" segments about one of the girls. In my dream, the staff seemed to like my sketch, oddly enough. Very odd.

Clarification & Sno Balls

My friend, the great Ed Pancreas, wrote to me today and said: "Are you so sick in the head that you put hockey on the same level as pro and college football?!? You must have a screw loose boy." He's right - let me clarify. Football, both pro and college, is the greatest TV sport there is. I absolutely love it. It comes right behind baseball in my heart and psyche. What I meant by placing hockey along side it was that I love the day-to-day appeal of hockey. Football is great, but its really a once-a-week affair. Hockey and basketball go every night, so they help satisfy that daily sports craving that baseball so perfectly fills all summer long. However, as I said, the NBA is a drag, so I look to hockey to entertain me on Wednesday nights in November. Football is clearly the cold-weather king. Okay, Ed?

MMMmmm boy, I just had me a good sandwich. The "Bavarian Club Hero" from the Banhof Deli. It wasn't severely overstuffed or anything, but it was damned tasty. Black Forest Ham, turkey breast, muenster cheese and Russian dressing on a hero. It was so good I even bought a package of orange Hostess Sno-Balls. Sno-Balls are one of the most bizarre looking snack foods in existence. A creme-filled chocolate cake, covered by a layer of marshmallow goo coated with dyed coconut. I'd really like to meet the Hostess employee that came up with the concept. It's not as if people had been baking Sno-Balls in their homes for decades and then Hostess decided to mass-market its own recipe.
"Don, your team has to come up with something! Drakes is creaming us in the Northeast, Little Debbie's cutting into our Midwest market and Tastykake has such tasty cakes!"
"Yes sir, Mr. Hostess, my boys down at the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen have come up with just the thing to boost lagging sales--its a coconut/marshmallow covered orb of cake with creme filling! And we'll dye the coconut pink!"
"Hmmmm, Don, old boy, I love it! Call them SNO-BALLS!"
"But they're pink Mr. Hostess."
"Just do as I say and start baking!"

They're usually pink, but I guess they're making them orange for Halloween. People generally have two reactions to Sno-Balls: 1) Ewww, that looks disgusting! Who the hell would want to eat that? and 2) Mmmmm boy, gimme two! I fall into category two, but I must say it's well below Twinkies, Cupcakes and Fruit Pies in the Hostess hierarchy. And now...a haiku:

MMmm shaggy sno-balls
orange coconut smiles hello
oh! my poor insides

When is spring training?

The new-look Knicks started their season last night with a very old-school Knicks loss. It looks to be another long season for those of us who follow the Knickerbockers. Although I'm a Knicks fan, I find myself caring less and less about the NBA each season, as the pro game has become really dreadfully boring. Its become so static and predictable, the only basketball that really enthralls me anymore is the NCAA tournament.
The NHL is also underway, and I'll have some fun following my beloved Islanders this year, as they should be able to hang in the playoff mix. They tied the Penguins last night, 4-4. I love hockey and football, and I'll enjoy some basketball, but I'll still be missing baseball big-time.
More later...

Sorry for the Interruption...

Okay okay, the Marlins won the World Series, or as it feels to me, the Yankees lost the World Series. Josh Beckett was incredible, the Yankees pretty feeble, Yankee-haters rejoice, etc etc, blah blah blah. What really bums me out is that there's no more baseball until spring training. The Yankees are sure to see some off-season upheaval. Joe Torre's coaching staff seems likely to be shaken up quite a bit: Don Zimmer has vowed he'll never return to Yankee Stadium while Steinbrenner owns the team; Mel Stottlemyre has been much more measured in his comments, but still clearly isn't very happy with the Boss; Lee Mazzilli may wind up as the manager of the Baltimore Orioles; Rick Down is likely to be fired, etc. I just hope Steinbrenner doesn't do anything truly evil like fire non-baseball employees in a fit of pique. Elevator operators and janitors, beware of that gray-haired man in the turtleneck and sunglasses!

Watched a cool flick last night - Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, a Hammer Studios classic. The great Peter Cushing played the very evil Baron Frankenstein. This was about as evil as I've seen Frankenstein. Oh, sure, he still felt society didn't understand how brilliant he was and how advanced his ideas were, but now he was a total cutthroat meanie - blackmailing, raping, lopping off heads - a real sweetheart. Ahh, the great British horror films of the 50s-70s. They just don't make 'em like that anymore, and good ol' "Chiller Theater" wouldn't have been the same without them.

Listening to the new Van Morrison cd, What's Wrong With This Picture. So far, I dig it.

Oh, check out this bizarre link my friend Ed sent me:
http://www.xsunderground.com/thechilde/

Up Against The Wall, Motherf*@#er

The Marlins kicked the Yankees butt last night, 6-4. David Wells had to leave after one inning with back spasms, and Jose Contreras wasn't really ready for his surprise long appearance. The Yankees made it close at the end, and Bernie Williams hit a drive that would have easily been a game-tying 2-run homer in Yankee Stadium. Alas, in the hideous, cavernous Pro Player Stadium, it was merely a long out at the wall. Let me tell you, whether Florida or New York wins this series, I really don't ever need to see Pro Player Stadium again. The Marlins now lead 3 games to 2, needing only a split in the Bronx this weekend. It won't be easy though, the Yanks will have Mussina and Pettitte pitching on full rest. The Marlins do well against left-handed pitching, but c'mon--these aren't league average lefties. The fickle media has now gone from assuming the Yankees would win in a laugher 2 days ago to assuming the Marlins are going to easily upend the stiff Yankees. It's pretty funny. You have to like the Marlins' chances in the Bronx, especially with the cool, confident way they're playing, but I'll stick with my Yankees prediction, just to be consistent. I had thought Yanks in 6, so now that has to be Yanks in 7. If the Yankees do lose, I think Torre really needs to take some serious heat for pitching Jeff Weaver, who hadn't pitched in a month, in an extra-inning World Series game while his best player sat in the bullpen. I know Mariano can't pitch in EVERY game, but in an extra-inning game on the road, I want my best out there, not my mop-up man. It may cost them the series. My favorite baseball columnist, Rob Neyer, agrees. (Aaron Boone's hideous at-bats in the aforementioned game, too.)

I actually didn't see much of the game last night. I was working, bartending a party for a ladies' sailing group. I did get to watch a few foxy moms dancing around dressed in Halloween costumes, though. Considering how bad the Yankees were, its just as well.

Going away for the weekend, no posts 'til this series is over.

Rainy Night in Miami

The Yanks just beat Florida 6-1 in Game 3, despite a 39 minute rain delay. Once again they take a 2-1 series lead, beating their opponent's ace. Rob Neyer has been saying that the team that draws the most walks and hits the most homers will win the series, and so far, he looks to be on the money. The Marlins speed and defense are terrific, but when the Yankees start walking and homering they rarely lose, given the quality of their starting pitching. Speaking of starting pitching, Josh Beckett did not disappoint tonight - his stuff was terrific and he struck out 10, allowing only 3 hits--all by Jeter. He did walk in a run, though. Mike Mussina was absolutely terrific too though, and he finally got a win, which made me extremely happy. I'm tired of hearing that Mussina can't win big games from people who really don't know what they're talking about. (And who apparently didn't watch the 1997 ALCS) It's Clemens vs. Pavano tomorrow in Game 4, a matchup that definitely favors Noo Yawk. I wouldn't dare count out this Florida team after the swath of destruction they've left behind them in the National League, but the Yankees ain't the Cubbies, and a 3-1 lead with 2 games still to go back in the Bronx would be awfully rough to deal with.

In other news...
For some strange reason I've been really drawn to old King Crimson albums lately. They're sort of the only prog/art-rock that doesn't suck or make you feel embarassed to listen to (unless you consider Frank Zappa prog-rock), as they rock pretty damned hard and rarely sing about The Hobbit. Yes could really play their instruments, but they never kicked ass the way 21st Century Schizoid Man or Lark's Tongues In Aspic, Part 2 do. It's also safe to say that they're the only band in the genre still making compelling music people take seriously. Anyway, I like 'em.

The Wings of Eagles, The Legs of Pierre

I watched a John Ford/John Wayne movie I'd never seen before last night, The Wings Of Eagles. It had some excellent moments and one of the Duke's better acting jobs, but it was a bit of a mess. The script felt like it had been ripped to shreds and then scotch-taped back together in a hurry. Wayne played Frank "Spig" Wead, a real-life figure Wayne and Ford were friends with. Wead was a Navy aviator and then, after a crippling injury, a successful screenwriter and playwright before rejoining the Navy during WWII. The always luminous Maureen O'Hara played his long-suffering, sometimes estranged wife. She was terrific, but sadly underused. I just think that any movie (especially in color) that features Maureen O'Hara should give her as much screen time as possible. Man, was she easy on the eyes. At least we get to see her in a bathing suit. Ward Bond showed up to play a thinly-veiled version of Ford himself, in one of the film's more entertaining sequences, and Dan Dailey played Wayne's cigar-chomping, loudmouth cohort. It had a lot of the elements of a great John Ford film, but it just didn't entirely deliver. Too many moments of "Huh? Wha?" for my taste. Worth seeing for John Ford aficionados (like me) or fans of the Duke (me, again).

Game 3 of the Woild Serious is tonight in that hallowed ballyard, Pro Player Stadium. Much like Game 3 of the ALCS, this is a big game for the Yankees opponent. Josh Beckett is pitching for Florida and he's their best chance to shut down the Yankees. Beyond Beckett, the Marlins starting pitching doesn't exactly inspire fear in NY, so the Marlins really need to grab this game behind him and take a 2-1 lead. Frankly, my gut feeling is that Beckett is going to start to show the ill-effects of pitching so much this post-season at some point tonight and become very hittable. Hey, I may be way off and he'll pitch a 2 hit shutout with 12 strikeouts, but my hunch is that the Yankees get to him.

Rob Neyer has a fun piece today, debunking the idea that Juan Pierre is somehow now one of basball's elite players and then wondering aloud whom a neutral fan should be rooting for this week. His fellow ESPN.com baseball columnist, Jim Baker also has a very entertaining column today, worth your while. Look out for a Talking Heads reference in there.

While You Were Gone...

I haven't updated in a couple days, I realize. I'm sorry about that, but I was working like a dog and just didn't have a blog in me. As you know, the Yankees beat Boston and are now in the World Series against the Florida Marlins. The Yankees won 6-1 last night, behind a brilliant performance by Andy Pettitte and now the series is even at 1-1. Hideki Matsui gave Pettitte an early lead to work with by bashing a 3 run homer in the bottom of the first. Godzilla is having a terrific post-season and seems like he's been a nice fit with the team. He's easy to root for. I like the Yankees to win the series in 6 games, but only a fool would discount the Marlins.

I keep reading comments by Sox and Cubs fans on the internet (and in columns by Sox & Cubs leaning columnists) about how terrible this NY-FLA World Series is, and how we Yankee fans had better be happy now, because NO ONE WILL WATCH. My response is always the same... "So f'in what?" I'm supposed to feel guilty that my team won because it's assumed that Boston-Chicago would have done a bigger number? I couldn't care less, and why should I? My team is in the World Series, I could give a rat's ass about what the neutral fan's dream match-up was. Personally, I would have liked to have seen Yankees-Cubs (which also would have been a ratings monster), but here we are, its Florida, and they earned it, as did the Bombers. Get over it.

I'm waking up with a cup of coffee and Husker Du's Zen Arcade. It's a nice bracing start to my day. Speaking of rock'n'roll, Joe Queenan had an amusing and on-target review of a new coffee table oral history of the Rolling Stones in yesterday's NY Times. Another Stones book I'll have to own eventually.

I'm trying to come up with some Game 1 & 2 haiku....give me a little time.

Oh my.

Holy fucking shit.


p.s.- suck on this, Pedro.

Game 7 Tonight

No time to really write today, I'm due at work and frankly, I'm too freaked out about Game 7 tonight to comment on Game 6. Suffice to say, as I expected, the Sox bats finally showed up and kicked the shit out of Yankee pitching. I'd like to think Pedro's got nothing left in his arm for tonight, but chances are he'll have his good stuff working, especially with the Bronx crowd really giving him the business all night. It may be Clemens final start EVER, so I hope he goes out with a win...we'll see. I have to work tonight, but luckily the game will be on, so I'll see most of it. I'm not sure I want to, though. The Sox clearly have the big mo now, but then again, momentum is only as good as today's starting pitcher. It'll be interesting to see what happens if the Sox win tonight, i.e. will the sun come up tomorrow, will pigs fly, etc. Ugh - it's too depressing to contemplate.

Oh yeah, the Marlins won the pennant. Truth be told, I think it might be their year.

Curses, Foiled Again!

The Yankees beat the Sox yesterday 4-2, behind excellent pitching by David Wells and some nifty defense from the much-maligned (and deservedly so) Soriano and Jeter. Neither team is hitting in this series, which makes you wonder if sooner or later one of them will score 8 runs. It could be the Yankees today if John Burkett really does get the call for Boston against the very hot Andy Pettitte. (By hot, I mean he's pitching really well lately...I'm not into that other thing, dig?) However, while I really like the Yankees chances to finish the series today, I refuse to count out this Boston team. This is a scrappy, tough team--I don't see them going quietly into that good night. Despite the lopsided pitching matchup, the Sox will no doubt make it another tight game.

ESPN.com had a great article by Bob Klapisch about Goose Gossage and Graig Nettles commenting on Game 3's insanity. It's a reminder of how heated the Sox-Yankees rivalry was in the 1970s and why Pete Hamill once described those late 70s Yankees as "...the meanest pack of bastards ever to pull on pinstripes." In fact, it sounds like these current Red Sox might need a restraining order against Goose and Nettles. Gossage says of Manny Ramirez:

"You want to bring a bat to the mound?
Let him try," Gossage said. "Ramirez
might've gotten one of us (pitchers), but
he wouldn't have gotten all 10. You wouldn't
have seen him the rest of the series, I
promise you, because we would've put
him in the hospital."

The Cubs really blew it last night. I didn't see the inning in question, but it seems to me Dusty should have yanked Prior a few batters earlier. That said, how does Alex Gonzalez blow that play at short? As for the fan...well, sure, he's a dolt, but that ball was very nearly into the seats and the overwhelming majority of baseball fans would have done the same thing, no matter what they're saying today. Why people want a baseball so desparately, I have no idea. I guess it would be cool to come home from a game with a foul ball or home run, but in my baseball fan career, I never have, and I don't really feel any worse off for it. The fan had to be protected by Wrigley security, given a new shirt and snuck out the back door for his own safety. However, judging from one of the main photos of the incident in the papers, he's not hard to identify: its clearly Jared from Subway. I knew I hated that fucking guy.

Anyway, for all the press about the potential Cubs-Sox matchup, we very well might get NY-Florida, which can't really excite anyone beyond the fans of those two teams. Oh well, suits me fine.

One last thing about Boston...a subject header seen on alt.sports.baseball.ny-yankees: Did Real Cowboys Hug So Much?

And lastly, a couple haiku:

Bald, fat Wells smiles wide
He loves to win a big game
He will party hard

The shortstop is cold
No-mah! No-mah! The fans yell.
another groundout

Cowboy Up! They say
but what exactly does it mean?
does Millar even know?

Okay, Fox is making the Yankees play at 4:18pm today, increasing the chances of a rainout, which helps Boston. Conspiracy? Eh, probably not, but I still hate it.
Go Yankees!

Jello with Chopsticks

Okay, let's get the baseball out of the way (until I come up with some new haiku, anyway). The hated Red Sox defeated the Yankees last night, 3-2. Tim Wakefield's knuckler looked off in the 1st inning, but then he settled down and pitched brilliantly. The Yankees went 1-9 with men in scoring position, placing all the pressure on Mike Mussina, who pitched damned well, but apparently not well enough. Mussina is not a happy camper today. The game was maddening to watch for a Yankees fan. The Sox mighty offense was held in check, really, but the Yankees just cannot hit Wakefield. I cannot think of many things more frustrating than watching your team get shut down by a guy throwing 68 mph. I was trying be nonchalant, accept that it's going to be a long series, shrug it off, but it was driving me NUTS. I was boiling inside, ready to strangle someone's pets.
Ruben Sierra came off the bench to pinch hit a homer in the 9th, but that was it. Alfonso Soriano struck out waving at pitches out of the strike zone, leaving the Yankees hot hitter and all-around October hero, Derek Jeter, in the on-deck circle. Why a cold hitter like Soriano is waving at pitches when they desperately needed a baserunner and Jeter, who's been terrific at the plate is on deck and arggggggggggh...you get the idea. Today, Boomer Wells gets the call against Derek Lowe. The Yankees jumped on Lowe in Game 2, but he's much much better at Fenway Park. I can't decide if we're going to get the great big-game David Wells, or if he's going to have one of those unfortunate flame-out games, sending the Yankees back to the Bronx needing to win both games. I just hope the Yankees can score early and let him pitch with a lead.

Before Sunday's rainout, I thought the Yankees would pounce on John Burkett and put a stranglehold on this series. Now, I think it's fated to go 7 games. I still like the Yankees to win it, but damn, its going to be a helluva fight.

After the game last night I wound down by watching Brian DePalma's Casualties of War. Not really the best choice to try to turn a down mood around, but I'd never seen it and it was on cable. Michael J. Fox was very very good in a tough part. He's got to be our window into this awful world, and yet if he seems too aww shucks goody-goody, we'll just reject him. It's one of those performances that's tougher than it looks. Meanwhile, Sean Penn pretty much chews up the jungle scenery. I'm a Penn fan, but I found his faux-Noo Yawk accent distracting--an odd choice. DePalma's direction is assured and somewhat restrained (for him), but the movie just doesn't take off to the heights it should. It's an ugly subject (specifically,the rape and murder of a Vietnamese girl by US soldiers in the field; generally, the dehumanizing effects of combat and a pointless war), and David Rabe's script never really makes any transcendent points about it all. It feels like an intended GREAT STATEMENT that got away. It never seems like DePalma's having fun, either. In his best films (like Dressed To Kill, Carrie, Blow Out, The Untouchables, the underrated Carlito's Way, even the controversial bomb Femme Fatale, which I loved), the viewer can sense DePalma's joy of filmmaking--the rush he gets from making a movie. Casualties of War just feels like an attempt to make a "great movie" without that inspiration.

Listening to Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band, live at the Allen Theater in Cleveland, OH, from February 1, 1974. They were opening for Wishbone Ash! I know I've heard some Wishbone Ash songs, but I can't for the life of me remember any of them. Suffice to say, stuffed into a 45 minute opening act slot, Bruce is delivering the goods--great early material like Kitty's Back, Spirit in the Night, Blinded by the Light and songs that remained unreleased for decades, like Zero and Blind Terry and the great set-piece Thundercrack. I'm a big fan of the funky, pre-'75 E-Street Band, I wish I'd had a chance to see them live. (Not that I have any beefs with the post-'75 edition of the band) Oh well, I thank the bootleggers and Bruce & the band.

C'mon Boomer - we need this one today!

Game 3 Haiku - updated

I didn't write anything about that insane Boston-NY Game 3, because I figure by now we've all heard enough about it. However, I figured you might be expecting me to weigh in with some haiku about it. So here goes...

Pedro beans Karim
when he cannot get the outs
he is a baby

Toro! Toro Don!
Aren't you a bit old for this?
Can't Pedro just duck?

Jeff Nelson looks mad
groundskeepers should stay away
eat Nellie's cleats, bitch!

Manny are you high?
that pitch was not near your head
relax and play ball.

Willie Randolph smiles
"It brings back good memories"
oh those 70s brawls!

A few hours after I posted this, my fellow Yankees fan and baseball haiku author Dan Mulvihill sent me some excellent ones I felt I had to share with you ASAP:

Clemens to Millar
Up and in yet Cowboy smiles
Knows just part of game

Saw the Lowe replay
He clearly points to his cock
Very unclassy

No beer at Fenway
after fourth, but it was too
hard to begin with

Its fun, inexpensive and as addictive as Tetris was in 1990...baseball haiku. Catch the fever!

Fenway to Heaven

Ahhh, sweet Monday. I know most people don't see it that way, but I work all weekend, so Monday is a relaxing day off for me. I sleep late and goof off. Right now I'm just drinking coffee and listening to a Led Zeppelin bootleg from Germany in 1973. It's pretty good, if you're in the mood for that sort of thing. I've spent such a huge chunk of my adolescent and adult life making fun of Stairway To Heaven that now I actually really enjoy it. Perhaps its just all the soulless dance-pop and rap-metal of today that makes me appreciate a statement as wonderfully goofy and grandiose as Stairway (and Zeppelin in general for that matter). How many bands were able to be so brilliant and completely overblown and ridiculous at virtually the same time? I'll never place them in the same level of the Pantheon as the Stones, Beatles & Who (or probably the Kinks, for that matter), but I've grown to love them, after being too good for them when I was 15.

Last night's Yankees-Red Sox game was rained out. At first I was thinking that this would really help Boston, as they now can skip the cruddy John Burkett and go right back to knuckleballer Tim Wakefield. However, Newsday is reporting that David Wells injured his groin during the Game 3 melee, so perhaps the unscheduled off day benefits both teams. The Yankees will turn to Mike Mussina today for Game 4 and give Wells an extra day to rest his groin (That doesn't sound right). I think the Yankees have the good gris-gris now, after beating Pedro, and will most likely win this series. That said, Boston is a hell of a team and I wouldn't count them out at all. They're extremely dangerous...and they're not bad at baseball either.

Full of Beans

The Yankees and Red Sox square off again this afternoon, in what is being hyped as an all-time classic matchup between two of the greatest pitchers of all time, not to mention the two best pitchers in Boston Red Sox history, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens. Frankly, when this much attention is paid to the two starters, I always assume nothing will go to plan, both starters will get knocked out early and we'll wind up with a 10-9 game. However, it is entirely possible we'll see a real gem. Mike Lupica writes that it is the biggest Yanks-Sox game since the Bucky Dent homer game on October 2, 1978. I think most people give Boston the edge today, as Pedro at his best is, well, the best, and Roger's had his struggles when returning to Fenway Park. My gut tells me they're wrong, though. The Yankees have had a fair amount of success against Pedro since that night a few years ago in Yankee Stadium when he struck out what seemed like 47 batters and pitched a one-hitter. That doesn't mean they knock him around the park, they just tend to do enough to win, and I think Clemens comes through today with a very solid, gutsy performance. I'm probably way, way off, but I think the Yanks win today and really take charge of this series. We'll see.


Elsewhere, I was happy to find out that the alt.binaries.gdead newsgroup on usenet was posting a spiffy remaster of the Grateful Dead's show on September 14, 1988, at Madison Square Garden in NYC. This wasn't a particularly special night for Jerry and the boys, but it was my second-ever Grateful Dead show, and it brings back nice memories.
Gotta scoot...

Clint Eastwood, Jeff Bridges and Mariano Rivera

Whew...the Yankees came back tonight and defeated the hated Red Sox of Boston 6-2. Andy Pettitte looked shaky at first--overthrowing, it seemed--but then he settled down. The Yankees were unable to put together a big inning, but they put together a few 2 run bursts and great bullpen work by Contreras and living legend Mariano Rivera sealed the deal. Now at least I can breathe for the next day or two. This series promised to be a doozy, and so far, it's what I would have expected: 1-1 heading to Boston. Okay, enough about that...

I watched one of my favorite underrated 1970s flicks the other night, Michael Cimino's Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, starring Clint Eastwood, Jeff Bridges, George Kennedy and the sadly overlooked Geoffrey Lewis. It's a crime-caper-road-buddy movie, but decidedly offbeat, featuring terrific performances from the leads. Bridges was Oscar-nominated for Best Supporting Actor, and Clint's low-key, brainy performance matches him scene-for-scene. Kennedy and Lewis are just brilliant as well, especially in one scene where they uncomfortably share an ice cream truck. A must see for fans of Eastwood and/or 1970s American cinema, and Cimino's first film as director. MGM/UA's DVD doesn't offer much in the way of special features, but the video is excellent and the audio clean.

Okay...the baseball haiku definitely generated some interest. So, here are my Game 2 efforts:

A weak ground-ball out
there will be no big inning
let's hope Mo kicks ass

The Red Sox shave heads
Yankees must not grow a beard
I miss Gamble's fro.

Contreras has heat
his pitches stymie Boston
who cares what he makes?

And finally, my friend Jeff Colchamiro, die-hard New York Ranger fan, offered these for the opening of the NHL season:

Shit it's October
Seven months of frustration
Messier, retire

Nineteen Ninety Four
Was almost ten years ago
I miss Adam Graves

(for the record, I'm an Islander fan)

On to Boston - Clemens vs. Pedro!

BASEBALL HAIKU

My friend Andy Anderson got started on a kick writing haiku about baseball a couple of seasons back, and he promptly got a few of us hooked on this silly pastime. What better way to comment on our favorite All-American sport than with unrhymed Japanese lyric poetry? For the record, Andy is a Phillies fan, so he has a lot of spare time in October to come up with stuff like this. Here are a couple of Andy's latest:

Kerry Wood - Bad Ass
Throw cheese, buckle knees, hit like Babe
And your wife is hot.

George, your team is shit
Johan Santana kills you
More lefites up, bitch

(It should be noted that Andy wrote this one before the Yankees kicked Santana's ass in Game 4 of the ALDS)

and our friend Dan Mulvihill penned this gem:

Here comes B-H Kim
Leading Oakland by a run
Tie game, deja vu

This was one of my latest forays into the field (so to speak):

Boston scores and scores
but the bullpen is shit
every game four hours?

Okay, the bullpen has held up the last few days...but we'll see...don't underestimate the power of poetry!

Here are a couple more:

Nick Johnson grounds out
where has his mighty stroke gone?
at least draw some walks

Smiling David O.
"Cookie Monster" sure does fit
he has googly eyes

Pudge held the ball tight
San Francisco is bereft
Marlins celebrate

Okay amateur poets and baseball freaks...let's see if you can come up with any.

Remember, they always lose Game 7

Argggggh. The Yankees lost to the Red Sox tonight, 5-2. Actually, they got their asses handed to them. The Yankees indulged in their bizarre tradition of making a mediocre pitcher look great as Tim Wakefield totally stymied them with his knuckleball. There's nothing more frustrating than watching your team get shut down by a guy throwing a slow, fluttering, goofy looking knuckleball. The Sox fans will of course take this as another sign that this is their year. Hell, maybe it is, but I won't believe it until I see it. This is a 7 game series, and I still like the Yankees to win it...but it ain't gonna be easy.
Let me add this: I am starting to get physically ill when I have to read a Sox player quoted talking about "Red Sox Nation," or a sportswriter invoking the same term. Red Sox Nation? Give me an f'in break, pal. Red Sox Nation is....yep, you guessed it - NEW ENGLAND. Please spare me this absurd notion that we're all supposed to like the Boston Red Sox. New Englanders like them - and good for them, they're loyal, crazy fans who truly LOVE baseball. They're great for the game, honestly (although not my favorite people to spend an afternoon with). I love the Yankees because I grew up in the New York area, and at the time I first started watching baseball, they had a GREAT team full of crazy characters (i.e. Reggie Jackson, Mickey Rivers, Graig Nettles, Thurman Munson, Lou Piniella, et al.) There's no deeper reasoning behind it. If I had grown up in Chicago, I'd love the Cubs or the White Sox, St. Louis, the Cardinals and so on and so forth. Anyway, so while I admire the Sox tradition and fan base...enough already, I hate them and I cannot stomach the idea of them beating the Yankees in an ALCS and making the series. It makes me want to spew my supper all over my shoes. Not that I'm biased or anything.

On a wholly other note... Bob Dylan's Dear Landlord is a great freakin' song. And these new SACD/CD hybrid remasters are unfreakin'real. Zimmy's the man.

Here Goes Nothin'

Hello and welcome. Please wipe your feet as you enter (but don't take your shoes off--I find it very disconcerting when people make me take off my shoes when I enter their home. I suppose I shouldn't travel to Asia.). I have decided to enter the already overcrowded world of blogging because a) I'm bored b) I'm not writing enough c) I'm an opinionated motherscratcher and I feel like foisting said opinions on the world, even if no one will pay me.
I'll roam and ramble, I'll follow my footsteps--whoops, sorry Woody--I plan to talk a lot about movies, music, books, footwear, legumes, the Holy Roman Empire, Jack Jones and pop culture in general, but I would imagine I'll blather on about politics, life etc etc blah blah blah. Oh, come on now, you all know how this works by now.
Feedback is encouraged, at least if its by Neil Young & Crazy Horse.