Dregs of the Netflix Queue, part IV

With the Olympics (yawn) wheezing along in their 5th day, I'm spending my days writing my dissertation, and nights filling in some gaps in my knowledge of early 70s cinema. That gritty era is correctly viewed as very experimental and influential (e.g., the Godfather, Taxi Driver, Mean Streets, etc.), but it also produced its share of dense, unfunny, indecipherable movies. Case in point: Little Murders.

This dark comedy does a good job of portraying 70s gloom, disenchantment with societal institutions, and a bleak, crime-riddled New York City. But the "comedic" elements don't hold up: the square dad who continually asks, "What's your pleasure?" The closeted gay son who laughs uncontrollably and looks as if he spends 18 hours a day locked in his room. Eliott Gould, covered in his dead wife's blood, riding the subway without eliciting a reaction from the other passengers. Maybe this was subversively funny at one time, but this kind of humor hasn't aged well.

However this scene, featuring Donald Sutherland, was a rare high point.

Relaxating

Make sure to find some time for relaxating this summer.

Dregs of the Netflix Queue, part III

I've been having a running conversation with the Ribald Storyteller (see photos below) about his rating of the bad 1980s movie "Six Pack." The Ribald Storyteller rated it one star out of 5, despite the fact that he recently paid to re-watch the movie. I argued that the fact that he was re-watching it meant that he should give it something around 2-3 stars.

This brings up the question: How does one rate a bad movie that you watch specifically because it is bad?



Coincidentally, I later read in the New York Times that a re-make of Six Pack is in production, and will be directed by David Gordon Green.

The article states, "Mr. Green speaks with admiration of the Billy Crystal-Gregory Hines action comedy “Running Scared” and reels off references to the Kurt Russell-Sylvester Stallone cop movie “Tango & Cash,” to “Surf Nazis Must Die” and Rowdy Roddy Piper in “They Live,” and to the entire output of Cannon Films (gems like “Missing in Action” and “Death Wish 3”), it becomes apparent that for him the late ’80s, a boom period for the kind of processed American cheese that has yet to be rehabilitated by critical re-evaluation, was formative."

I like that statement: that Six-Pack "has yet to be rehabilitated by critical evaluation." So what do you say, Ribald Storyteller--any chance of bumping the movie up a notch in your Netflix rating? If you need some coaxing, just watch this clip.

State of the garden: early August

After a cold spring, the garden is finally starting to look like a garden. For the record, we have tomatoes (14 varieties), broccoli, carrots, beets, potatoes, basil, eggplant, beans, lettuce, squash, watermelon, and arugula planted.
Last night, I harvested our remaining red onions. The yellow onions and garlic had just finished curing in the basement. We've harvested about 20 pounds of garlic and 40 pounds of onions so far.


As usual, Callie played an important part in the vegetable harvest.

Kevvy Kevv sightings

After seeing my friend Kevin Wagoner pop up in a bunch of movies (see my entry for North Dallas 40 below), I decided to add a new feature to my blog: Kevvy Kevv sightings. (The previous post will give you an idea of what the guy actually looks like: kind of a brown haired Kenny Rogers.) Anyway, here are the most recent Kevvy Kevv sightings: this first one was from the great film noir, Blast of Silence.

Can't remember where this one was taken.

This was from the unintentionally hilarious documentary, American Movie.

Don't remember taking this one, either.


Lastly, there's this guy from the Cannonball Run.

Red River, New Mexico

At the end of July, I was able to make a trip to Red River, New Mexico, to visit Kevin Wagoner and his family (see photo below, taken at the local Mexican restaurant). Red River is a former mining town, newly remade into a ski resort/summer destination for Texans looking to escape the summer heat. Kevin's better 3/4 includes (from left): Emma Lou, Lisa, and Tess.

While we were there, Tess caught her first fish--a rainbow trout--from one of the stocked ponds in the town.

I was able to do a hike on my last day in town. I tried to get to Wheeler Peak, but turned around in a lightning storm above treeline. On the way up, there were a bunch of bighorn sheep ewes hanging around by the trail. They weren't skittish, and let me get close enough to take this photo.

From the Wheeler Peak ridgeline, Red River lies in the valley below.

The trip was great, except for the long drive that left me (in the words of the locals) "hatchet-brained."

Kitchen Remodel Update, Part II

I almost forgot: here is a view of the other side of the kitchen. In the upper left-hand corner, you will see the soffit that I extended in order to accommodate the longer cabinet (with some help--over the telephone--from my brother-in-law Kris).

Kitchen Remodel Update

I just spent a fun Saturday working on a kitchen remodel. We had the cabinets and countertops professionally installed, which meant that I had to install our new sink, garbage disposal, and plumbing. The plumbing (see photo below) was the hardest, most backbreaking part.



I was pleased with the end result, though. I will be installing tile between the backsplash and cabinets.

Bear Lake Marathon

These are some photos from the inaugural Bear Lake Marathon. The race started in Idaho, and went around the southern part of the lake. This first picture was taken near the start of the race. Mary (wearing the green shirt) and her friend Don (running between Mary and I) also took part.

The race was a decidedly low-rent affair. No bathrooms at the start, no traffic control, and no first aid stations. What the race lacked in accommodations, it made up for with scenery.


Mary and I were able to run in the shade for the first half of the race.

The last 10 miles were in the sun, on the west side of Bear Lake. I ended up roasting like a chicken.


I didn't end up with any pictures of the finish line--it was a chute made of caution tape, with no clock. I'm still not sure what time I ran, but I'm not worried about it.

Running the Canal Trail

This isn't my favorite run in Logan, but it gets the job done when I don't have very much time to exercise.

North Carolina in Springtime

I just returned from a 4-day trip to North Carolina. My father moved there when he retired after teaching 30+ years in Illinois. His wife, Lynda, was originally from the Wake Forest area.

They built a home together on some land that includes this neat old barn. The barn is very distinctive now that the area is less rural and more developed.


The weather was springlike--lots of flowers, including this prickly pear cactus in bloom.



As usual, Dad and I took a short kayaking trip, this time on the Lumber River. The river was full of snags and debris for the first mile or so, and the last part of the trip flowed through the town of Lumberton. This kind of river lends itself to a mellow, leisurely pace.

Art on a Desert Lake

The north shore of the Great Salt Lake is a surreal place. Salt precipitates out of the water, encrusting everything.



The water itself has a pinkish hue, with boulder-sized hunks of foam floating around on it.



The artist Robert Smithson used this barren landscape for his pioneering artwork, the Spiral Jetty. We were lucky enough to see it firsthand last summer.

Pizzas and the Wind Cave Trail

The wind cave trailhead is about 5 miles up Logan Canyon from our house. We went for a hike there last Saturday afternoon. It was a beautiful day--abundant sunshine--a real treat after our most recent batch of spring storms. We were approaching the snow line when Mike started to talk about pizzas, so we made a hasty retreat back to town.

Callie took in the view of the Cache Valley.

Dregs of the Netflix Queue, part II

I recently viewed this program, formerly #139 from my Netflix Queue. The review I read generously called it "middlebrow" 1970s television. Each episode starts the same way--a large and obvious thing (e.g., a train car, or a professional football player) is stolen from a place with tight security. Banacek--a smug Polish Sherlock Holmes--is called in to find the missing goods. The opening theme sums it up.



Along the way, Banacek usually engages in some casual sex, smokes a couple cigars, and drinks some expensive booze. He haggles with insurance inspectors, is insulted for his Polish ancestry, and has his name mangled.

Part of the fun of watching this show is the deep insight contained in a Polish proverb.