I've gotta head full of ideas /
they're driving me inane
Yes, inane!
1. Las Vegas just continues to get weirder and weirder. Another press check trip found me late last night squashed into the back of a cab with a driver who whispered nonstop into his headset in a language I did not understand, while alternately flooring the gas and slamming on the brakes every 15 seconds or so for the entire 20-minute ride to the hotel. Upon checking in I found out that the press check was not scheduled for 9 or 10 a.m. as usual, but "possibly as early as 4, more likely by 6." Well. I threw my stuff on the bed and went back downstairs, out across the parking lot in the icy wind, and into the restaurant – only to be greeted by a cloud of cigarette smoke and a very large sign that read, "Now Smoker Friendly Bar!" And in smaller print: "Dining Room Closed. Sorry For Any Inconveniece" (sic). I ordered up Chinese to my room (it was good) and slept fairly well, waking at 3:45 in anticipation of a phone call to let me know my cab would be arriving soon ... then fell back asleep for awhile ... and to cut to the chase, they ended up not needing me until 8. A nice change of plans, though I sure wish I could have known that before I went to bed. We were done by noon, which left me 7.5 more hours before my return flight. Luckily I was able to get on an earlier flight, on which I did something I've never done before – fell asleep in my seat. I woke up two hours later with the vague feeling we were probably just about back home again, but when I looked out the window we were still sitting on the runway in Las Vegas and it was not two hours later, but only about 10 minutes later. All in all, a delightful trip, and I'm not being facetious – despite the weirdness this time around and all the last-minute changes, I still mostly enjoy these trips. And the book looks good too – always a plus.
2. Remember the other day when I was contemplating the nature of violence and aggression? I guess it was only a matter of time before I started seeing some new angles. The first came in the form of an old Andy Griffith show I happened across while flipping channels, in which Barney Fife finds his relationship threatened by a big goofy guy who looks suspiciously like the Skipper from Gilligan's Island ....
The big lunk of a farmer has his heart set on Barney's Thelma Lou, and the situation quickly escalates until only Andy's wisdom and humor are able to prevent it from turning into a gruesome bloodbath. An interesting side note: Throughout the episode, the Alan Hale character repeatedly addresses Barney as "little buddy" – a full TWO YEARS before the debut of Gilligan's Island in 1964. Props to A.H. for upgrading from a totally ridiculous character to one with at least a little authority – not to mention his own boat.
3. The conflict between Barney and The Farmer had set the stage for an even deeper look at violence – do you recognize this scene? I'd always thought the movie was called "Rambo," but it isn't – it's "First Blood." It's the kind of movie I usually make a point of avoiding, but the beautiful misty forest scenery drew me in before I realized what I was watching, and then I was curious to see what would happen next. I can see why it ended up such a blockbuster. It has something for everyone – conservatives can feel good about the fact that the protagonist is a patriot and a war hero, lefties can love to hate the evil "establishment" that hunts him down and mistreats him so egregiously, plus there are car chases, explosions, and of course tons of guns and gore. I won't be adding it to my "favorite films" list but I guess it's good to know what all the fuss has been about all these years.
4. Speaking of gore, I went out to check on the mouse traps in the garage just now and discovered something I had not known before – mice are cannibals. The first trap I picked up was behind the dryer and looked to have been sprung and left empty except for a stringy gray mass of dryer lint which turned out to be a little mousie spinal column with a chewed up pelt and a couple of ears still attached, and one hand. Mr. A requested that I not take a picture of the remains, and upon some reflection, I decided to comply. The light's not all that great out there anyway.
P.S. Next Morning: That cab driver reminded me of something Gertrude Stein wrote about living and writing in France, where she was always surrounded only by the sound of a language other than English – how writing in English was easier without the distraction of hearing it spoken all around her all the time. I can see how that would work; it was interesting to note how quickly I was able to tune out that cab driver's voice once I realized I couldn't understand what he was saying.
And now: must go chase down loose neighbor dog Mr. A just saw running past the windows.
1. Las Vegas just continues to get weirder and weirder. Another press check trip found me late last night squashed into the back of a cab with a driver who whispered nonstop into his headset in a language I did not understand, while alternately flooring the gas and slamming on the brakes every 15 seconds or so for the entire 20-minute ride to the hotel. Upon checking in I found out that the press check was not scheduled for 9 or 10 a.m. as usual, but "possibly as early as 4, more likely by 6." Well. I threw my stuff on the bed and went back downstairs, out across the parking lot in the icy wind, and into the restaurant – only to be greeted by a cloud of cigarette smoke and a very large sign that read, "Now Smoker Friendly Bar!" And in smaller print: "Dining Room Closed. Sorry For Any Inconveniece" (sic). I ordered up Chinese to my room (it was good) and slept fairly well, waking at 3:45 in anticipation of a phone call to let me know my cab would be arriving soon ... then fell back asleep for awhile ... and to cut to the chase, they ended up not needing me until 8. A nice change of plans, though I sure wish I could have known that before I went to bed. We were done by noon, which left me 7.5 more hours before my return flight. Luckily I was able to get on an earlier flight, on which I did something I've never done before – fell asleep in my seat. I woke up two hours later with the vague feeling we were probably just about back home again, but when I looked out the window we were still sitting on the runway in Las Vegas and it was not two hours later, but only about 10 minutes later. All in all, a delightful trip, and I'm not being facetious – despite the weirdness this time around and all the last-minute changes, I still mostly enjoy these trips. And the book looks good too – always a plus.
2. Remember the other day when I was contemplating the nature of violence and aggression? I guess it was only a matter of time before I started seeing some new angles. The first came in the form of an old Andy Griffith show I happened across while flipping channels, in which Barney Fife finds his relationship threatened by a big goofy guy who looks suspiciously like the Skipper from Gilligan's Island ....
The big lunk of a farmer has his heart set on Barney's Thelma Lou, and the situation quickly escalates until only Andy's wisdom and humor are able to prevent it from turning into a gruesome bloodbath. An interesting side note: Throughout the episode, the Alan Hale character repeatedly addresses Barney as "little buddy" – a full TWO YEARS before the debut of Gilligan's Island in 1964. Props to A.H. for upgrading from a totally ridiculous character to one with at least a little authority – not to mention his own boat.
3. The conflict between Barney and The Farmer had set the stage for an even deeper look at violence – do you recognize this scene? I'd always thought the movie was called "Rambo," but it isn't – it's "First Blood." It's the kind of movie I usually make a point of avoiding, but the beautiful misty forest scenery drew me in before I realized what I was watching, and then I was curious to see what would happen next. I can see why it ended up such a blockbuster. It has something for everyone – conservatives can feel good about the fact that the protagonist is a patriot and a war hero, lefties can love to hate the evil "establishment" that hunts him down and mistreats him so egregiously, plus there are car chases, explosions, and of course tons of guns and gore. I won't be adding it to my "favorite films" list but I guess it's good to know what all the fuss has been about all these years.
4. Speaking of gore, I went out to check on the mouse traps in the garage just now and discovered something I had not known before – mice are cannibals. The first trap I picked up was behind the dryer and looked to have been sprung and left empty except for a stringy gray mass of dryer lint which turned out to be a little mousie spinal column with a chewed up pelt and a couple of ears still attached, and one hand. Mr. A requested that I not take a picture of the remains, and upon some reflection, I decided to comply. The light's not all that great out there anyway.
P.S. Next Morning: That cab driver reminded me of something Gertrude Stein wrote about living and writing in France, where she was always surrounded only by the sound of a language other than English – how writing in English was easier without the distraction of hearing it spoken all around her all the time. I can see how that would work; it was interesting to note how quickly I was able to tune out that cab driver's voice once I realized I couldn't understand what he was saying.
And now: must go chase down loose neighbor dog Mr. A just saw running past the windows.
1 Comments:
This post had me laughing out loud!
That Alan Hale sure is one hell of an actor.
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