February 28, 2005
On Saturday we finally went to see Million Dollar Baby ($15 for tickets a medium popcorn and water, $6, gave the girl a $1 tip for being "a good girl." Sometimes I just love being the anti-PC geezer). Sorry, but no way is this the movie of the year! Sideways is twice the movie for my money. Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge Clint Eastwood fan when it comes to his old Westerns, but I don't get him as a director. He seems wooden, predictable and too minimalist for my tastes. But now he has two Oscars, so what do I know?
Mike Melrose gave me the DVD of Fargo and I watched that on Friday night. Wow! Now there's a classic! I had forgotten how great that movie is. I love the weather, the cold, the white-out, the Minnnesota slush and crud. Example: at the end when the Macey car salesman character (Gunderson?) is caught at the seedy motel, there is a long, high master shot of the place snowed-in and a snow plow goes by at the bottom of the screen, only a second or two of screen time, but just so sweet and right. Plus, the little things like the snow shoes lined up by the door and the parka wearing weather conversations are just rich beyond belief, to me. Plus, I don’t think any modern movie has ever portrayed prostitutes funnier or more accurate. Not that I would know, but I did play in a band, you know.
Speaking of bands, I haven't played drums since before 9•11 but I got roped into doing a band gig this Friday. It's for a fund-raiser for a local school and the principal called me and asked me if I'd sit in for three hours at Rawhide. I told him I'd do it if my son Thomas could play and we'd trade off. Well, wouldn't you know, T. Charles has two jobs now, which his mother forced him to get (one of his jobs is at Hastings in Flag and I asked him if he could give me any insights into the buying habits of the American public as it relates to magazines and my son said, and I quote, "Women seem to buy glamour and gardening titles and men buy porn." Thanks son.).
Anyway, we had to rehearse yesterday and I got directions to this spectacular house on the side of a ridge about a mile north of my house. A stunning blond named X-andria answered the door and led me in downstairs into the band room. Turns out she was in a Bay Area punk band called Ladyz. Obviously made a ton of dough and moved here to build her dream house. She also played bass with Reba for several tours. The two Dons (one's a lawyer, ones a principal) were already set up and jamming when we got down there. I nervously set up my basic kit (just a snare, high hat and base drum) and joined in. Of course, I was quite nervous, having not touched a paradiddle since Bush has been in office.
Well, I guess it's like riding a bike, because I easily fell into the groove, and not only was it fun, but many of the songs on the set list are really, really cool. For example, one of my favorite songs of all time is Hoyt Axton's, "Evangelina" Here's the words to this wonderful tune, about a place that’s just down the road:
And I dream in the morning
That she brings me water.
And I dream in the evening
That she brings me wine.
Just a poor man's daughter
EVANGELINA in old Mexico.
There's a great hot desert
Down in Mexicali. (Don sang, "South of Nogales," although it’s actually south of Ajo)
And if you don't have water
Boy, you'd better not go.
Tequila won't get you
Across that desert.
To EVANGELINA, in old Mexico
And the fire I feel for the woman I love
Is drivin' me insane.
Knowin' she's waitin',
And I can't get there.
God only knows that I wracked my brain
To try and find a way
To reach that woman
In old Mexico.
And I met a kind man
He guarded the border
He said, "You don't need papers,
I'll let you go,
I can tell that you love her
By the look in your eyes, now".
She's the rose of the desert
In old Mexico
And just to show you how much estrogen I'm packing these days, I actually teared up when that border guard let him cross.
I think I'll wear my fringe jacket to the gig. Actually, the band uniform is hawaiian shirts and cowboy hats. Which is even more gay, but Hey! Don’t make me cry.
We’ve got up a new poll question. Here it is:
Was Johnny Ringo bushwhacked or did he commit suicide?
"You are the teacher you have been waiting for. You are the one who can end your own suffering."
—Old Vaquero Saying
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