The Catch Up

Well, seeing as how I'm behind a bit, lets start with last weekend...

The long holiday weekend was spent doing nothing and doing it very well. Well, not nothing mind you - but nothing mentally or physically taxing. Nothing. Its the new slacking. The nothing consisted of:

Friday: A fine dinner at Zanaro's, a new Italian restaurant in White Plains NY. The service was great, the food was good and its just kind of cool eating in the old atrium of a huge 1930's bank. Leaving the place, we noted that Trump is putting up a building right across the street from it. While part of me thinks it would be financially smart and sound to buy a place in there sight unseen, I think we would never be able to pay for it. :-P Its friggen White Plains!!

Saturday: A matinee of Million Dollar Baby. Yep, that's right. I finally wore Clarisa down and we saw it. The bonus was that I managed not to hear about its big plot twist by avoiding all reviews and articles and shutting down any conversations about it. As for the movie itself -- Its a Movie. A Film and as such carries with it the gravitas only Eastwood seems to be bringing these days. Like most great drama's (aka "life issues" movie) MDB is imbued with the complexity, beauty
and strain of relationships. Its amazing how much you can learn about characters in a short time when the filmmaker knows what they are doing. MDB stands in stark contrast to Sunday's fare....

Sunday: We saw Constantine. Somehow, I think the Mad magazine parody of it might be better. Like Clarisa said, "I like this movie better when it was called The Prophecy", specifically referring to Satan's cameo in both those films that elevated them slightly. The thing that makes comic books / graphic novels great issue after issue is not so much the art and not so much the special effects (and face it, there can be TONS - its just extra ink and imagination vs. a roomful of programmers) but the characters. Readers come back for the characters and the style of the art -- which can be likened to a film's cinematography, I guess. A lot of times, it seems that comic based film's can't do the characters justice. Everything is rushed, the exposition is awkward and too long and generally, they just suck. And I hate having to say that.

Monday: Alias DVD viewing interspersed with Desert Combat Blasting -- ah the joys of leaving a game for a bit and coming back to it to find that while there is a new release out, the game has about 1/8th of the servers hosting it that it used to. DC seems to be on the shnide. Regardless, you can't play on all of the servers at once anyway -- so if there's just one available with a good mix of guys that's good enough for me!. The new maps are interesting and added some new twists to things.

So, yeah, the Alias DVD quest continues (just finished season 2!)...Ever since we caught the two hour premier of the Alias this year, we got hooked and decided to get caught up by Netflixing all the previous shows. So now during on any idle block of time that happens to be non Gilmour Girls / One Tree Hill / CSI /Deadwood (you need to watch this just for Al Sweraangen, played with moxie by Ian McShane)/Dead Like Me (another must see) time, we race through season after season and episode after episode trying to catch up with the very active Bristow family. Some odd things happen when you concentrate episodes that are supposed to be a week or weeks apart. One, you start to see all the plot devices revealed in stark Groundhog Day clarity. Lets just say I really did not want to see Sidney and Vaughn meet in that cyclone fence cage again, for one thing. Two, its possible to OD on Jennifer Garner. You just can't take anymore. After three episodes in a row, we get to the point where Clarisa is like a marathon runner unable to stop and I have double over and puke on the side of the Alias DVD highway. Generally, the only solution to an Alias OD is to blast something in Desert Combat. A more productive thing might be to play guitar I guess...

Anyhoo, that was the weekend. The work week was actually a little interesting this time around. I've been helping out one of the programmers with the CSS for some basic layouts. He is resistant to change, but he's getting it and most importantly he's letting me work on it because he knows I'm climbing the walls there. Thing is, when the pages are done...its back to a big case of ennui.

Last night Clarisa came down into the city and we went to see Billy Connolly at The Town Hall. The seats were close up, but way over to the left side so we had a bit of a hard time hearing him at points over the laughter. I guess the sound waves had a hard time making a right angle turn out of the speaker. Regardless, he was funny as hell. He did some bits on getting older and how he pays his kids to tell him if they catch him doing typical old people moves. "Here's 5 quid -- now you tell me if I smell of piss!" He did another bit bemoaning the fate of American cars. "They're all beige! Or, you know, like some beigeish color. You used to have Big Red Cadillacs, Blue ThunderBirds and we loved them. What the fuck did you do to them!?" Stuff like that. Well IT WAS FUNNY WHEN HE SAID IT! After the show we walked around Times Square and checked out the Virgin Megastore for a little while. We came out empty handed because every CD we looked we thought "ah - lets just get what we want on iTunes" and for every DVD we saw, we thought 'We can get it on eBay cheaper". So take that Branson.

Oh and on a side note, yesterday I was in the Suncoast in the Manhattan Mall and saw a Detroit Red Wing Best Of DVD that has games going back from 1996 or so -- and includes the fantastic March 1997 game where all hell breaks loose as Darren McCarty goes after Claude Lemieux for injuring Chris Draper months earlier in the season. I saw that game live and remember screaming and whooping at the TV in bloodthirsty glee as the Wings and the 'Lanche mixed it up old school style. The 40 bucks or so for the DVD is worth it just for that intense game which cemented Detroit vs Colorado as one of the biggest sports rivalries. Man, what a great team Detroit fielded over the years since 1996. And what a shame Stevie Y is probably done for and never got the farewell from the fans he deserved. Here's to you Steve. And while I'm here let me just say,

Bettman you can go fuck yourself for destroying hockey..you SOB!