Driving to and from work is an overwhelming and stupendous joy this time of year.
The sun is low in the sky at 8am, pushing me forward, shining ahead to light my path westbound to he office. Glinting through the trees and bathing them in a liquidy safron glaze.
On the way home, the sun is again to my back, reflecting like lasers off the streetsigns facing me, urging me forward to la hacienda... Blessing me and gilding me. Aaaaah.
No need for the sunglasses to mute the golden boughs, the glowing leaves. I love my commute. Backroads, past farm stands, a country club, rolling hills, enormous homes populated by stinking filthy rich people. It beats the stuffing out of my old commute down I-95 to Salem. Although the foliage along the stretch of I-95 that I used to travel is particularly amazing. It is a tad further away, unlike the trees where I drive now, which are close enough to kiss at times.
I love having a very short commute. Highway commuting just to get to work is ridiculous. Anyone who has to drive 50 miles on a highway to get to work needs to reconsider what they are doing and thinking. Close to home is where it's at. For me at least. 90 minutes in the car is not the lifestyle I want to live.
When I changed jobs in March of 2000, one of my major motivational factors was the commute. I was driving only a few towns away, but it consistently took me 50 minutes or more. That's whacked.
I wanted to work as close to my house as possible. Which gave me very few options when it came down to it.
Seeing as there is no business or industry right in my hometown (affectionately, towns like this are refered to as "bedroom communities" I guess, which always used to make me think they were randy little towns with naughty inhabitants who enjoyed bed too much), and the next big "city" over has no industry at all which would require a webmaster, I expanded my search to run along the I-495 corridor from Salisbury down to Lawrence. I wanted no more than a 20-30 minute commute, with lots of backroad options, so I could enjoy days like today.
I found a great job within 20 minutes by backroad from my house, and I never have to drive on the dreaded interstate. Doug used to have to commute to Boston to go to graduate school, some days that would take him 2 hours to get in. It's bogus. Thank God those days are over.
My short commute means I don't get to listen to too much radio these days. Usually the news headlines once through in the rotation and Paul Harvey is all that I hear on the way in if I choose News Radio. This morning I listened to music, which usually means a lot of jabbering and bullshit, and two songs. I was almost to work this morning when the station I was listening to announced they were doing a "win it before you can buy it" ticket give away for BARENAKED LADIES on November 19th in Manchester.
Uh, hello? November 19th? Who has a birthday that day? Uh YEAH! ME! Yowsah! No way! I started screaming and freaking out as if I were like 12 and N*Sync was standing in my livingroom singing to me.
I was that retardedly excited. A big, fat almost 35 year old goober.
My heart was racing, I almost crashed, I laughed, I giggled. I don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't call to win the tickets right then, but who gives a crap. Tickets go on sale tomorrow morning online, and I'm all over ticketmaster.com to buy me some BNL. Yo. I've never seen them live, and I have always wanted to. And here is my chance. Happy Birthday to my happy ass!
So here's the deal. I have to buy the tickets, get someone to watch my stupid weiner kids (perhaps Jessica would like to go? Maybe??? I must speak with Doug and see if he sees this as an option or a deal stopper) and get my party on big time with BNL.
They are also playing the 17th in Portland, so I could buy those tickets too, and get tickets through my office to the Pats game on the 18th and then have a full weekend of 3 arena events like I'm some sort of rich shithead who has money to do this sort of thing in the first place.
Nah. I'll limit it to one show. Either Portland or Manchester. I will talk to Doug. Perhaps the kids can stay at Marcia and Wayne's, not too far from Portland, and we can stay there too after the show instead of driving home 2 hours, that'd be sweet. And that show is a Saturday night as opposed to the Monday Night show, where we'd have to get someone to watch the kidlins until late-ish... We shall see.
I love having something to do for my birthday other than just going to dinner and a movie. Don't get me wrong. Dinner and a movie is nice. Very nice. But THIS is BNL. What better way to turn 35? None. None better.
This was in the Boston Globe online today. A review of "Corky Romano," as dissed by Jay Carr, the all too funny critic who occassionally makes me laugh out loud and draw attention to myself at the office. He's one of those snotty movie review guys who thinks that foreign films are the penultimate and American comedy sucks, big above-it-all snotrag. Well. Okay, usually it does. But he's kinda haughty about it, and it makes me laugh.
"It's the kind of movie you tie around the ankles of a stiff you're tossing into deep water and never want to see again. The waste is spectacular, extending to the likes of Chris Penn, Peter Falk, Richard Roundtree, and Fred Ward. And waste is the operative word here, maybe even toxic waste, as Kattan and others are mired in a script without a single fresh impulse or idea... Not even Kattan's bug-eyed mugging and flamboyant gyrations can make Corky remotely watchable... One of these days, Kattan will match himself up with the right role, but it hasn't happened yet, and it certainly doesn't happen here. The amazingly witless ''Corky Romano'' is never going to be mistaken for ''The Sopranos.'' In every respect, one can't help thinking of it as ''The Castrati.''"
Wah ha ha ha! That's some funny shit there. Toxic Waste. And it looked so cute in the previews.... I'm sadly disappointed. We'll probably rent it when it hits video and see if Mr. Carr is correct. He usually is.
I had said I had a movie review or two for you of my own. We rented "Memento" a week or so ago, a strange and suspenseful movie that tracks the goings on in the life Leonard. His wife was murdered, and consequentially his memory of anything after the fact wiped out. His ability to make new memories is shot entirely, and he tattoos things to his body so he won't forget. Rules, clues, and messages to himself. "Find John G and Kill Him." That kind of stuff.
The film is formatted in a way that makes the viewer as confused as Leonard himself. A guy named Teddy. A woman named Natalie. Who is Dodd? Okay, why am I chasing this guy (gunshot) oh! he's chasing me! Right.
People and items and confusion all dancing around in little tete a tete meetings with Leonard, who desperately is trying to figure out who killed his wife. Missing a few minutes of this movie is not an option, so don't put it in and then waltz around the house or fold laundry while watching it. It is well worth renting. It is very interesting, as you have a short term memory and you can recall what happened in the scene previous, and tie it to the scene you are watching, and in the end know exactly what happened.
A great mindpiece, and Guy Pearse is very good as Leonard. Flat, emotionless, lost. I must recommend this film. Wish I could say that for the next movie...
"Oh Bosley! You are so cute and funny! We love you!"
Absolutely and spectacularly dismal.
"Charlie's Angels. " Oh Lord, Damn My Eyes. What kind of crap did I just watch? I can't even begin to explain how stupid this movie is, but I'll bitch about it anyway. Improbable, not even funny, not even entertaining, a complete waste of pyrotechnics, and I love Drew Barrymore and Cameron Diaz normally. But Bill Murray as Bosley? What!!!???
My daughter figured this movie out in the scene where Drew goes to Eric Knox's home to make sure it is secure. She called it when Knox explained the photograph of his father to Dylan (Barrymore). If you haven't seen it, brace yourself. This is what my nine year old said "Oh, I know. That guy in the picture -- you can't see his face at all. That's gotta be Charlie. He thinks Charlie killed his father, but he didn't, so now he's lying and trapping the Angels and he's gonna kill Charlie, but they'll beat him."
Easy enough for a kid to unravel. She was funny, because she pulled me into the kitchen to tell me. As if saying this in front of her dad and A&M would SPOIL the film for them... she's so kind and protective.
She was 100% right. And the Angels saved the day and kicked some A.
The BEST part of this movie was the inclusion of one of my favorite Quirksters, Crispin Hellion Glover!
Oh man, he RULES this flick! He was SO creepy and sinister, smoking and lurking and just looking nasty. He had NO lines, which made him even more crepy, and he just freaked my shit out.
Ever since his near contact fake karate kick on the Dave Letterman show, I've loved this guy. He is overly intelligent, odd, strange, peculiar, obnoxious, insightful, out there... he is like a professor drug addict. And I think he is so cool. His career had a real cooldown there for a long time, after "River's Edge," really (where his creepiness excelled!). He had a string of crap movies that did nothing in the box office, was in "Gilbert Grape," which was an odd flick, and then... finally, Andy Warhol in the Doors movie. More interesting roles came, and it looks like he's back in big time Hollywood popularity. He's got like five movies coming out this year. Amazing. A career reborn.
Well. I've been at this one off and on all day. Better post and get going. Have a super weekend.
Look out Dave!