Archive for the ‘Movies’ Category
Saturday, December 26th, 2009
“To be politically correct, I can say
that I’m scoping out the Norwegians
when I get on a plane, but face it,
if there’s a shaky Muslim cat near me,
I’m going to be keeping my eye on him.”
—Dennis Miller
News of a thwarted terrorist act has popped the bubble of holiday euphoria, and yet, to maintain a festive mood is remarkably easy for those of us who weren’t called upon to celebrate Christmas by clambering over an airline seat to subdue a suicidal fanatic.
Yesterday morning found us at Terie and Marty’s for Christmas brunch gift giving. After arriving home we had some private time (I got a new bicycle helmet from Santa), before relaxing with afternoon victuals, enjoying the company of our dear friends, David and Lee, and a sensational Sonoma County Zinfandel from Dana’s brother Bill. A trip to Lexington followed, where we watched the new Eastwood picture and shared our evening at The Pub. Not surprisingly, “Invictus” pushed my buttons, but the editorial pacing of the World Cup championship match fell a bit short of my expectations. In any case, Freeman’s portrayal of Mandela was outstanding, and it’s my understanding that he has wanted to play the character for many years, having brought the adaptation to Clint while developing the property himself.
Today is Boxing Day, so it’s off to Kelley Ridge for more conviviality. Things just keep getting better during this splendid countdown to a landmark New Year’s Eve wedding in Louisville!
Posted in Current Events, Dana, Family, Food, Friends, Holidays, Marty, Movies, Personalities, Sport, Terie, Wine | No Comments »
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
Morning on Moscoe Channel | Barefoot’s Resort | Les Cheneaux
• Marty and I are back from the first vacation the two of us have taken together. We coaxed unhappy Ned all the way to Tipp City on the Saturday before Labor Day and left for Michigan’s Upper Peninsula with Bill the following day. I’ve made many entries about Barefoot’s Resort in this log. I don’t intend to rerun the details, but you know how much I find to love about that setting. Add to that many satisfying experiences with my grandson from this most recent trip.
• My weather report is great— warm and sunny during the day, cool and refreshing at night. The clear sky displayed an awesome starscape, as the breeze laid down almost every night before a brilliant moonrise over the reflecting channel. I wish I could make a similarly positive report about the fishing. Caught enough yellow perch and northern pike to provide a nice taste, but no cooler was packed with frozen fish for the return home. Our only attempt at lake salmon was a strikeout. The era of bountiful Chinook is gone, everyone seems to agree. Nevertheless, Marty had his chance to pilot the Sylvan as I worked the familiar stern down-riggers with Foot, my generous friend.
• Glad to say that I got in my hoped-for endurance swimming. People told me the water was cold when we first arrived, but I soon learned that their perspective was completely different from mine. I didn’t need a wet suit for the first few days. Never having been in the water on a busy holiday, I did make Bill nervous on Monday when I paused twice on my channel crossing to accommodate boat traffic. He was having unpleasant visions of “collecting body parts.” I pledged to be more cautious for the rest of our stay. Sure, I want to keep fit, but I can’t help but think that part of why I like certain activities is that it puts me in touch with a younger, more naive self — especially that little guy who would put a rubber knife in his teeth after watching a Weissmuller flick and take off at full speed across the backyard (without shirt, shoes, or a care in the world).
• I have made this retreat with Bill during most Septembers since 1993. Although Dana and I traveled to the destination with Marty years before, it was different to share the experience on the eve of his turning 18. It was a unique opportunity. Another exceptional part of our getaway was the first visit of my old high-school chum Greg B, who I haven’t seen since 1980. A highly successful pediatrician in Columbus, Ohio, Greg lost the mate of his life last year after her long battle with cancer. We had several profound conversations—true moments of soul contact—that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. Nothing has ever put me in greater appreciation of my own partnership of love, nor helped me glimpse the sorrow of losing a spouse—not even my dear sister’s double devastation. It was a rare, man-to-man insight that I simply can’t put into words.
• A time apart with good friends, and with a lad who holds an exclusive place in my heart. A time suspended, close to the earth and the heavens. On the water, in the water, under the water. Gazing into the wood flames, with the sun’s heat still pulsing across my skin, and the countless points of fire shifting overhead. I shall remember. I shall return.
Posted in Awe, Death, Exercise, Family, Fishing, Friends, Gratitude, Holidays, Marty, Movies, Nature, Personalities, Playtime, Space | No Comments »
Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009
I took more than a mild interest after learning Wes was a dedicated reader of Cormac McCarthy, but didn’t act on it until Bruce brought home The Crossing from Half Priced Books. Lordy. Haven’t let this kind of undertow take me down since I read everything I could get my hands on by Paul Watkins. Hollywood’s fixation aside, the man can flat out write.
Posted in Dadbo, Fiction, Friends, Movies, Personalities, Words | No Comments »
Sunday, March 15th, 2009
March exercise—day fifteen— Made some decent progress on a new safari artwork and prepared two final-number engravings that I’ll send on approval to a print collector. Accidentally spent time in front of the tube watching an art history program on the KET-ED digital channel. Realized I must never forget to learn even more about the roots of modern art. It dovetailed with our recent viewing of The Rape of Europa, one of the best documentaries I’ve seen in a long time. Dana produced art in the kitchen with a another day of fine meals. As usual, I am the fortunate beneficiary.
Today’s sight bite— A Sunday invasion of workmen and their equipment —c-l-i-c-k— executing a belated but welcome pick-up of our ice-storm waste heaps.
Tomorrow— Second-half buzzer sounds…
Posted in Art, Dana, Education, Food, Gratitude, Movies, Political Affairs, Television | No Comments »
Saturday, March 7th, 2009
March exercise—day seven— Not unlike many other people, most of the day was spent out of doors, capturing the mild weather. My lower back complained like a cranky teenager, but I was eager to tie up the loose ends of yard clean-up. The next rain will set the stage for lawn seeding, and I needed to clear away the last of the limb debris. How’s that for an exciting log entry? We ended the evening with a viewing of Eastwood’s Changeling. His color palette was handsome and the period look convincing, but an effective mood never coalesced for me, as with Mystic or Baby. I was ready to move on before it was over. Clint, it’s time to give Paul Haggis a call.
Today’s sight bite— Red bird perched on the stub of a butchered tree —c-l-i-c-k— singing as if there were no more frozen mornings ahead.
Tomorrow— An effort to guide the exercise toward imaginative waters…
Posted in Home, Movies, Nature, Personalities | No Comments »
Monday, February 23rd, 2009
After a miserable weekend of single combat against a determined viral foe, I felt recovered enough to wrap in a blanket and watch the Academy Awards telecast. What a disappointment! The Oscars have less and less to do with my personal affinities as a life-long movie fanatic. In my peculiar world, it would’ve been fitting for the program to have ended with a clip of Taylor’s final cry from Planet of the Apes— “Damn you! God damn you all to hell!”
Posted in Movies, Personalities, Television | No Comments »
Sunday, February 1st, 2009
“A well man at sea has little sympathy with one who is sea-sick; he is too apt to be conscious of a comparison favorable to his own manhood.”
—Richard Henry Dana, Jr.
Two Years Before the Mast
Seven Deadly Zins
Lee fixed an elaborate, delicious dinner last night, and my plate’s fare was more than I could finish. The Harrisons broke bread with us, too, and then left for a Norton Center performance. They’re still based at a motel, so that tells me Gose Pike remains off the grid. Access to David’s laptop provided an opportunity for us to glance at our growing accumulation of email. I could merely glance at Caitlan’s request that I design the invitation for her year-end wedding. And after that, the big news: Bruce called to let us know our power was back on—at last. We relaxed with Appaloosa for an encore viewing and then gratefully returned to a gradually warming house.
When the ordeal is over, a strange kind of pride or sense of self-congratulation comes alarmingly easy. While others foundered, panicked, or were just plain clueless, if one was in a position to rely on prior judgments and preparations, there can be a satisfaction that is not entirely admirable, because it too easily creates a comforting detachment from those who are still suffering, from those who are still counting the days. Somewhere in the heart is a motivation to move beyond protecting immediate family to a more general community outreach, but the longed-for end to personal crisis brings too strong a desire for the return to ordinary living.
And how smooth it can be to slip into that “new era of normalcy” without also seeing the experience as a call to greater preparedness. True, there seems to be an ongoing series of natural disasters distributed here and there, and this could be seen simply as “our turn” and to say, “All’s well that ends well.” But is it more astute to count blessings without losing a sense of guarded optimism, keeping one eye on the potential for more of the same or worse? Or perhaps that’s the unbroken “crashologist” within—my inner “doom-and-gloom-er” who needs to keep his powder dry and the gas tank on F.
Posted in Angst, Bruce, Caitlan, Community, Crashology, Family, Food, Friends, Gratitude, Home, Movies, Nonfiction, Priorities, Psychology, Wine | No Comments »
Saturday, January 31st, 2009
“It is not the least of the advantages of allowing sailors occasionally a day of liberty, that it gives them a spring, and makes them feel cheerful and independent, and leads them insensibly to look on the bright side of everything for some time after.”
—Richard Henry Dana, Jr.
Two Years Before the Mast
HITCH—Can I finish my coffee first? COLE—You surely may.
Terie’s power was restored last night, so all of us ate dinner at her place in Junction City and watched the Ed Harris picture, Appaloosa. (Superb western!) Terie fixed me up with a replacement mobile phone before we left. Even though KU has declared our residence restored, there was no power when we got home, but things seemed a bit more tolerable, just for having been in a warm, functional space for a few hours. Dana and I shifted our sleeping arrangements to the downstairs room in front of the gas grate. I was restless most of the night, until early morning, although probably better off than I would have been on the frigid second level.
Worked outside today on the “endless” expanse of fallen limbs—slow progress without a chain saw. I talked to Bill, our business neighbor, and, although he still had no power at his Parksville residence, he discovered he had electricity in his law office across the street. Dana got through to the light company again and informed them of our status. The CPAs next door are still without power, too, and, since we’re both connected to the same utility pole, all we can do is wait for someone to show up to fix it. Ruined limbs are visibly putting pressure on the line. Bill thinks that might have triggered something.
Dana is anxious to get out of the house, so we’ve decided to use the locker rooms at Centre, find an open restaurant, and then spend the evening at Lee and David’s, not knowing what we’ll come back to. Bruce went to Terie and Marty’s, so we’re shutting off the gas and leaving for the evening—with our fingers crossed.
Posted in Bruce, Community, Crashology, Dana, Family, Friends, Home, Marty, Movies, Nonfiction, Technology, Terie | No Comments »
Friday, January 2nd, 2009
— Year of 2008 workout totals: Swim-21; Bike-47; Run-21; Lift-19; Yoga-10; Pilates-29; Lupus Drill-18
— If I have doubts about whether physical conditioning should be a top priority for me this year, all I have to do is look at my workout totals from the past twelve months and that should be enough to convince me a new diligence about fitness demands a high place on my list of New Year’s resolutions. I shall also add:
• An improved habit of creative goal setting for artistic output.
• More robust business development efforts into new markets.
• Periodic infusions of nature, including more time in the woods.
• Steady progress toward the 30th anniversary of our studio.
from Scott-Martin Krosofsky’s The Book of Customs
— Joan sent me a link for some interesting Venetian woodcuts that I’ve never seen before. In spite of my ongoing investigation into wood engraving, I’ve yet to try my hand at an authentic woodcut, which is executed on the plank side of the block, in contrast to the end grain. Pete gave me some hemlock slabs from the Broadwing sawmill that I intend to use for my first effort, but I need to find an effective way to plane them down.
— Got a nice reply to our Christmas e-card from my cousin, Dr. Dave. For a pleasant look at a branch of our extended Clan, visit It’s a Sullivan Thing. A cool site for a cool family.
— Australia! I feel sorry for anybody who doesn’t get to see this movie before it departs the wide-screen cinema. Can they still make a full-length motion picture with the same scope and spirit as the classic epics? I say they can, and they did!
— Uncle Bob’s “Farm Woman: 1936” earned third place this year in NC’s poetry contest for seniors. It was also published in Western North Carolina Woman. According to our poet, “Such times may be more relevant than we would like, I’m afraid.” I shouldn’t publish it here, but you must read it. Let me know and I’ll send it to you…
V & S
Posted in Art, Exercise, Family, Holidays, Joan, Movies, Priorities, Verse, Words | No Comments »
Tuesday, July 8th, 2008
Hey, look, I probably get a buzz seeing famous people as much as the average guy, but I take absolutely no interest in celebrities just because they happen to qualify for the description. On the other hand, I really do like the stars I respect, especially if my admiration for them is rooted in the “silver age” of television, and I’d probably step on my Yorkie to shake the hand of Peter Graves.
When I learned that Johnny Crawford was coming back to Danville, I knew I had to meet him and experience his current style of entertainment. Like Kurt Russell and Ron Howard, he was a child star who kept himself on the rails, and he went forward to do an impressive range of cool things in his life as an artist, athlete, and entrepreneur. Most of all, he held true to his earliest passion—music.
If Dana didn’t fully appreciate how much I was looking forward to hearing Johnny’s vintage dance band, it was because I tried my best to avoid behaving like a groupie beforehand, but I think she understood when I dug out one of Dadbo’s old bow ties and taught myself how to tie it. It’s been quite awhile since the two of us had a nice picture taken, so I was tickled when Joan and Caitlan agreed to document our night out. Thanks, ladies!
The extra time for pictures cost us the opportunity to pick out a choice table at the Playhouse indoor theater, but I managed to discover an empty love seat near the stage. It was a fine spot to watch Crawford re-enact the period manners of a band leader from the 1920s and 1930s. We were treated to a superb group of musicians 
hired locally to become his vintage orchestra for the evening, including Miles Osland, Dave Henderson, and Rick Cook. Watching Crawford’s seat-of-the-pants coordination was a delight, and the entire effect was a testament to the sheer professionalism of everyone on stage. On top of that, the “CD Release Party” aspect seemed to put the star of the show in a heightened mood, and his vocals and repartee at the microphone were thoroughly entertaining. I think Dana would agree the only way it could have been more enjoyable is if I’d spent less time with the bow tie and a bit more with remembering how to do the fox trot. Maybe next time; I hope he’s invited back for an encore performance.
Years ago, when I fell in love with Danville’s brass band festival, I gained a new, profound regard for the quality of American band music from the mid nineteenth century to the era of The Great War. I also came to understand how much work it takes to resurrect all of the instrumentation to recreate a period sound. This summer, Johnny Crawford shared with our community the same preservationist spirit, and it makes me think he may be emerging as one of the country’s most important historians of our popular music, salvaging lost orchestrations and discarded arrangements of favorite dance tunes from that unique period between two World Wars. As David McCullough reminds us, Americans from a different period of our history were less similar to us than we like to believe. They lived differently, and they thought differently. It was the age of radio. Everyone aspired to be a musician, if they didn’t already sing or play an instrument. All popular music was music meant for dancing, and if people didn’t go out to dance, they probably were at a motion picture to watch others dance. There was a spirit in America that observers such as David Gelernter have told us is all but lost. Well, perhaps so, but not if Johnny Crawford has anything to say about it.
Don’t go ’round moping, hoping happiness will come.
That’s not the way; it doesn’t pay.
If you want happiness, help yourself to some.
Why don’t you try to take life the way I do:
Let the whole world sigh or cry,
I’ll be high in the sky,
Up on top of a rainbow,
Sweeping the clouds away.
I don’t care what’s down below.
Let it rain or let it snow.
I’ll be up on a rainbow,
Sweeping the clouds away.
I have learned life’s lesson: fighters who always win
Are those who can take it right on the chin—and grin.
So I shout to everyone:
“Find your place in the sun,
Up on top of a rainbow,
Sweeping the clouds away!”
Posted in Caitlan, Dadbo, Dana, Dance, Family, History, Joan, Movies, Music, Nonfiction, Personalities, Social Science, Television, Words | No Comments »
Saturday, June 7th, 2008
— Month of May workout totals: Swim-0; Bike-5; Run-1; Lift-2; Yoga-0; Pilates-1; Lupus Drills-2
— When a boy makes his uncertain journey toward manhood, he will never forget the famous beauties that adorned his itinerary:
Charmian Carr — Connie Stevens — Donna Mills — Peggy Fleming
Diana Hyland — France Nuyen — Madlyn Rhue — Barbara Bain
Janet Leigh — Barbara Hershey — Julie Christie — Natalie Wood
— After nearly a month away from the weights, I found myself back in the gym yesterday, hoping to get my fitness regimen into balance. Hearing a Roberta Flack tune always gets me thinking of college days.
Back in 1971, one of my earliest journal entries was about taking a date to see Play Misty For Me. The experience forever solidified my appreciation of Clint Eastwood as a cool dude, and I now regard that motion picture as the beginning of how he used his Dirty Harry appeal to negotiate with Warner Brothers a series of opportunities that would enable him to became one of the most extraordinary filmmakers of our time. If, like me, you have any libertarian leanings at all, you really have to admire a guy like Clint. He’s never been afraid to express his disdain for political correctness or those who shamelessly traffic in it.
— Not that there’s any reason for you to remember, but last summer I daydreamed in this space about my hope that a boyhood idol would eventually return to Central Kentucky (not as a mere beau, but as a performer). Needless to say, I’m thrilled to learn that my wish is granted.
Johnny Crawford is best known for playing Mark McCain on “The Rifleman” from 1958 to 1963. Unlike today, it was a time when the quality of the typical child actor in Hollywood would raise the mental question, “Whose powerful uncle pulled strings with the producer?” Crawford was one of a handful of young television performers—Patty Duke, Ron Howard, Tim Considine, Kurt Russell—that were cast for their obvious talent. Throughout his run on the popular series, he not only held his own impressively with star Chuck Connors, but opposite a constellation of entertainment heavyweights, including Dennis Hopper, John Carradine, Martin Landau, Kevin McCarthy, Sammy Davis Jr., Buddy Hackett, Warren Oates, and Michael Landon. Trite as it sounds—those were the days. The tube was small, but the icons were huge.
— The passing of Jim McKay makes me think of so many entertaining Saturday afternoons in the 60s, as we experienced the infancy of sports-casting through his distinctive coverage. A decade later, any of us who were watching in 1976 will always remember his marathon reporting from Munich, when his place in the history of television was secured. McKay and the late Roone Arlidge surely redefined the medium during those years, and, ever since, I’ve been as equally fascinated by the technology and professionalism of sports broadcasting as I’ve been with what happens before the cameras in a venue of competition. So far, 2008 has been a great year for upsets—beginning with an exciting Super Bowl, and on through another horse racing saga that culminated dramatically today. Zito has firmly established himself as the preeminent crusher of Triple Crown dreams—a class act, in contrast to the trainer of Big Brown, who, with his arrogant posturing, disqualified himself for much sympathy. Instead of partying with Trump in Manhattan, he’ll be, as Marty put it, “just another sweaty guy in a horse stall” tonight. On the other hand, one has to feel sorrow for the Kent D family and be concerned for the talented stallion himself. Yes, there’s only one compound phrase for it: The thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat. Let the summer games begin!
V & S
Posted in Blogging, Current Events, Death, Exercise, History, Marty, Movies, Personalities, Sport, Technology, Television | Comments Closed
Tuesday, May 27th, 2008
His mastery of the medium speaks for itself:
Comedy — Tootsie
Suspense — The Firm
Action — The Yakuza
Adventure — Jeremiah Johnson
Drama — They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?
Epic — Out of Africa
Was there another consistently better than Sidney Pollack?
Posted in Death, Movies, Personalities | No Comments »
Friday, February 1st, 2008
— Month of January workout totals: Swim-1; Bike-2; Run-0; Lift-2; Yoga-5; Pilates-4
— I’m barely hanging on to athletic respectability, thanks to Yoga/Pilates, but that doesn’t do much for my aerobic fitness. This hasn’t been one of my better annual kick-offs, “exercise-wise,” compared to the past few years. My hope is that our traditional Super Sunday mountain-bike ride will help me turn this around, because I have no intention of not being in decent shape this year. Good. That’s settled.
— “Health is wealth,” but here’s another important reason I need to stay in noticeably sound condition: the mayor asked me to think through the idea of establishing a permanent Bicyclist/Pedestrian Advisory Committee for the city of Danville. Sounds like he intends to take my recommendations to the Board of Commissioners as soon as I finish my homework. It came out of nowhere, but seems in sync with my desire to disengage at the state level to focus more on local action. As I’ve probably said before, my days as a Kentucky Commissioner are undoubtedly numbered, since the governor who appointed me wasn’t re-elected, and my term on the KBBC will expire before long.
— Seeing Ken Watanabe in Clint’s Letters reminded me of his other emotional performances in Geisha and Samurai. And then I became even more sad, because I recently found out that Hollywood set decorator Gretchen Rau died of a brain tumor. I was really wanting to enjoy more of her exceptional work.
— I’ve been hearing funny things about The Producers since I was a college student, but it never occurred to me that it would take 35 years before I finally saw the show. This evening Dana and I had fabulous seats at Norton Center for the excellent national touring production, and I don’t know if I’ve laughed that hard since I first saw Blazing Saddles. When I’m in the right mood, nothing is more hilarious to me than Mel Brooks at his very best. I’ve always figured he was a comedic genius, but after experiencing “Springtime for Hitler” tonight, I must appreciate that he’s a genius—period. I was reminded that, when facing down the wicked, many unavoidable things are required by our warriors, but art is the best—the only true—revenge, and satiric comedy may be the ultimate—the most difficult?—form of that. Would that every aspiring dictator could look ahead only to having his personality cult reduced to an object of ridicule and gut-cramping laughter.
There is no safety for honest men except
by believing all possible evil of evil men.
—Edmund Burke
Rhetoric does not get you anywhere, because
Hitler and Mussolini are just as good at rhetoric.
But if you can bring these people down with
comedy, they stand no chance.
—Mel Brooks
V & S
Posted in Art, Community, Craftsmanship, Dana, Exercise, Movies, Personalities, Political Affairs, Public Service, Theatre | Comments Closed
Sunday, December 9th, 2007
— Each time this year I’ve run the 5+ miles back downtown from the cabin, the time has felt shorter, even though I’m running pretty slowly these days. The silence transpired more quickly for me this morning, too. Milton handed out his periodic survey to the group, and I discovered a 1961 Horizon in Mack’s studio that had an interview with Andrew Wyeth, famous at the time, and now the greatest living American painter. I’ll have to digest the whole article during another visit, but I was able to scan a few stimulating quotations, and then Sara Jane offered me a new commission, with the freedom to interpret a photographic image with my choice of style—the perfect assignment. Everything conspired to boost my motivation to aggressively advance the Brady and Eckerle projects, plus my fine-arts enterprise in general. I couldn’t think about anything else as I ran home. So, why am I sitting here with this log entry?
— Cliff and I had a conversation about blogging the other day and it got me thinking about my string of 616 or 617 consecutive posts, and how important making daily entries used to seem. Brendan still refers to this site as a daily journal, but that hasn’t been true for well over a year. Once again, time is malleable, and, as Arnold has said, there’s adequate time each day for everything meaningful enough to do. Blogging isn’t about the time, but about having something worth saying to yourself, maybe worth recording, possibly worth sharing. I eventually figured out that doesn’t happen every day. When it does, not much time is required to get it down.
— Terie and Marty bought the M:I:3 DVD and left it at our house, so, late last night, I watched the J.J. Abrams picture for the second time, and I liked it a bit more this time around. I think Tom Cruise is the Burt Lancaster of his generation. Regardless of what I might think of his personal life, his work product demands respect. (Hey, not all celebrities can be a James Stewart or Charlton Heston; Lance Armstrong falls into the same category.) If Cruise had not become an actor, he would surely have been an Olympic or professional athlete in some discipline. He has the mentality and natural capacity for high-performance physical achievement. Although one of the least flamboyant stunts, his Chinese-village tile-roof footwork is probably the riskiest choreography in the movie. As I’ve declared before, I think he squandered the full potential of the classic franchise and put its longevity at risk, but this sequel is the best of the lot, the most team-oriented, and it fits nicely into our ancient family idea of an M:I Saga Series. In my opinion, Abrams is a creative, meticulous director with a feel for the spy genre compatible to Mission: Impossible—Cruise certainly can’t be faulted with his selection—but Abrams will need to have further honed his story-telling skills to do justice to his upcoming Star Trek feature, another Desilu-originated concept from the “silver age” of television.
— Local historian, R.C. Brown, is dead at 90. He once saluted me on a Danville street as, “Mr. Dixon, the Spin Doctor!” We often held different political perspectives, but shared a fascination with local heritage. I recruited him in 1991 to expound before a camera, as part of a fundraising documentary (the same program in which we cast Alyx as a child actress). He was in his 70s then, and I was young enough to think I might have a future directing videos (as close as I got to being Ken Burns when I grew up). Brown was the doctor, not me. He was from Ohio, too, but went on to get a Ph.D. from the University of Wisconsin. He taught history at Buffalo State College for 28 years. When he retired to our area, he rapidly became an authority and wrote The History of Danville and Boyle County. I’ll always believe that Professor Brown respected me as a talent, even though I consider his remark shaded by a mild one-upmanship. Perhaps he did understand better than most the true nature of my commercial craft, but I hope he wasn’t thinking of Victor Papanek’s quotation:
“In persuading people to buy things they don’t need, with money they don’t have, in order to impress others that don’t care, advertising is probably the phoniest field in existence today.”
I prefer this one:
“The only important thing about design is how it relates to people.”
— Thomas Bewick, my newest hero, couldn’t escape the ongoing necessity of making money with “coarse work” (as his daughter called it), despite his artistic reputation and unmatched skill as a wood engraver. I wanted to return the library book and avoid fines, but couldn’t help myself, and finished the biography by Jenny Uglow this week. As I said previously, learning more about his life has reinforced for me the notion that, although everything changes on outward levels, nothing really changes in the human dynamics of making a living as an independent, creative craftsman. I was notably saddened when I learned that he never fulfilled his dream of having the cottage workshop close to nature described in his memoir:
“The artist ought if possible to have his dwelling in the country where he could follow his business undisturbed, surrounded by pleasing rural scenery & the fresh air and as ‘all work & no play, makes Jack a dull Boy,’ he ought not to sit at it, too long at a time, but to unbend his mind with some variety of employment — for which purpose, it is desireable, that Artists, with their little Cots, should also have each a Garden attached in which they might find both exercise & amusement — and only occasionally visit the City or the smokey Town & that chiefly for the purpose of meetings with their Brother Artists.”
Dana reminded me that we all tend to get what we desire if we want it badly enough.
V & S
Posted in Art, Blogging, Brendan, Business, Cliff, Community, Craftsmanship, Dana, Death, Education, Exercise, Family, Friends, Gardening, History, Marty, Movies, Nature, Nonfiction, Personalities, Priorities, Sport, Studio, Television, Terie, Time, Words | Comments Closed
Saturday, November 10th, 2007
— Alan Arkin will play The Chief opposite Steve Carell’s Agent 86.
— The new Sidney Lumet picture with Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke is reported to be outstanding.
— Brian Dennehy joins Pacino and De Niro in a crime drama by the writer of Inside Man.
— Karl Urban (Capt. Call in McMurtry’s upcoming Comanche Moon) is the new “Bones” in a big-screen Star Trek prequel by J.J. Abrams. Watch this guy.
— Looks like Clint Eastwood will direct Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela. Role of a lifetime?
— Marty favorite Dan Bradley, masterful stunt coordinator for the Bourne sequels, is Spielberg’s second unit director for the new Indiana Jones installment. Great choice.
— A sci-fi thriller that teams James Cameron, James Horner, Giovanni Ribisi, Stephen Lang, and Wes Studi? So far so good. Due in 2009.
Posted in Movies, Personalities, Trivia | No Comments »
Thursday, August 9th, 2007
Oh, Johnny… no Johnny…
— Although I never did go out to Pioneer Playhouse for the closing performance (to roll the dice and hope for a Johnny Crawford sighting), we did make the last showing of Raintree County at DHS. Well, it stunk as bad as I was afraid it might, except for Lee Marvin, who admirably carried every scene they put him in. I even found the bull-whip sequence a let-down. I’m not sure Mombo thought it was that good either, knowing she would use GWTW as her standard of comparison. There are numerous reasons why this expensive production flopped fifty years ago, but the list starts with 1) Lousy Screenplay. The only way they could have made this picture more disappointing would have been to ask Monty Clift to take off his shirt. Nevertheless, plenty of people around town knocked themselves out to put on the anniversary festival. It would’ve been more than worth it had Eva Marie decided to make an appearance, but she wrote organizers and said she couldn’t. I did enjoy watching her on a big screen and imagining her time on location in Danville. ”Old-timers” all say she was just as sweet as Taylor was aloof. In any case, I’ve decided that if I ever get a custom phone tone, I want to have a Raintree recording of Eva Marie saying, “Johnny… Oh, Johnny!”
Hurry! Hurry! Step right up!
— Don’t know yet if the new issue of Arts Across Kentucky has been published yet, but I managed to get my revisions to our studio Website uploaded this morning. To somebody else, it may look as though I’m comfortable when tooting my own horn. Self-promotion is something I can’t avoid, but it’s never felt natural to me. I’d always rather be pitching someone or something else. I figured that eventually the output would sell itself, but, sadly, it doesn’t work that way.
Bay-bo smile
to the rescue
— Recently broken hearts were soothed when new pictures of “Baby Molina” arrived. Everyone in my Clan already knows that the birth mother of the second hoped-for child made a decision to withdraw from the adoption process. Many of the indicators were suggesting that might happen, but it doesn’t make it any less painful for Janet and Jerome. No matter how philosophical I try to be, my soul aches for them.
V & S
Posted in Angst, Business, Community, Family, Jerome, Mombo, Movies, Personalities, Studio | Comments Closed
Monday, June 4th, 2007
— 7:30 am, meet cycling pals for an early 30-miler with Scott Joplin’s Pineapple Rag in my head; 10 am, have eggs for breakfast and read the Band Festival tabloid with a feature about my poster art; 11 am, worship with Marty at the Salvation Army and hear my friend Zach preach; 12:30 pm, tear up old blacktop with Marty and empty first Ned-load of driveway debris; 2:30 pm, eat Dana’s turkey panini lunch on the front porch with Marty; 3 pm, tear up old blacktop with Marty and empty second Ned-load of driveway debris; 5 pm, go to Marty’s place to shower and play video games, 7 pm, watch “Scarface” and enjoy a lasagna dinner with Marty and Terie; 9:30 pm, head home to check email and read a bit before bed… If all my remaining Sundays were like this, I believe I could, to use a phrase attributed to the Marquis de Lafayette, “die ’appy.”
— Seth had his graduation celebration at Greystone on Saturday and it “marks the end of an era,” according to James. Mombo made an appearance, to everyone’s enormous satisfaction. Mike R brought his mom down from Ohio for the event, and he said he wants to commission a house portrait from me. Kyle D was there, and Seth passed the torch to a new student leader for the Red Kettle campaign in Liberty. Kyle said Captain Zach reported a $1700 total from our effort last season. We discussed ways to boost that in 2007. I got a bit of inside news about the new girls’ b-ball coach at Boyle. Cliff teased me about my Band Festival pin, but got my commitment to bring him a poster. Does that mean I get a new t-shirt in trade? When it was time to kick back with a beer, I had a good talk with Nic, and he shared a vision of married life in the Valley, and how he’s sure he can resist the professional pressures to value income over becoming a family man. I hope he’s right! Afterwards we stopped at the Hall and spent more time with Mombo, plus I had a chance to grumble to Joan about how the TV networks had squandered a massive line-up of talent over the past months (Haggis, Liotta, Madsen, Diggs, Daly, Hutton, Delany, Sorkin, Busfield, Goldblum, Stowe, Minear, Fillion—I can’t go on!).
— Seeing Jeannette at Greystone reminded me of last Friday at Rotary Club, when I was asked to “unveil” my poster art and make remarks. I did something I don’t remember having ever done so explicitly, and that was pay tribute to the divine source of all creativity. I wasn’t sure it had been the proper thing to do in that context, until Jeannette told me how much she was touched by it. That, combined with seeing two similar but different kinds of youthful self-assurance in both Seth and Nic, makes me realize I need to trust my instincts more, even though I might think I’ve made progress in that area. Drop the reticence and push it further. There’s no other way. The previous day I’d successfully shrugged off the inner wimp to address the Governor in public when he visited Centre for the “Get Healthy Kentucky” initiative. My comments met with applause. Come on, what is there to lose except self-doubt?
V & S
Posted in Art, Cliff, Community, Creativity, Dana, Exercise, Family, Friends, Home, James, Joan, Marty, Mombo, Movies, Music, Personalities, Priorities, Psychology, Television, Terie | Comments Closed
Monday, April 9th, 2007
— I’ve been trying to think of an appropriate way to tell Ian that I’m proud of his new workout discipline and to offer my encouragement, but I haven’t thought of anything cool or clever to say to him yet. Well, in the meantime, maybe this will do.
— One of the byproducts of March is an almost hypersensitivity to the ingredient stimuli that influence my state of being for each particular day—whether or not I’ve exercised, what I’m currently reading, whether I’m on the uphill or downhill side of a deadline, how much restful sleep I had, what kind of a movie I might have watched the night before, whether I began the day with a Rosary, what style of artwork I’m in the middle of, whether or not my Macintosh is acting up, etc. Being more aware of how these things affect my mood and powers of concentration is good, right? I used to just let each day find its own pitch without much thought to this kind of assessment, but now I know I can counter-balance various influences with music, poetry, prayer, stretching, dietary adjustments, or just a quick floor romp with a Yorkie. Nevertheless, there are still certain kinds of creative tension that have a tendency to throw me off my game, but I’m “getting there.”
— My talk seemed to go well enough yesterday morning that Milton wants to schedule it again as a “rerun.” I don’t think that’s ever happened before, but it might have something to do with only two other people showing up.
— Easter was a long day, but it felt like it flew by much too fast. When I waited to pick up Bruce from the hospital, I sat in the car for a spell, listening to my tape of Heston reading from the New Testament. Bruce was ready to go, but they failed to order the wheelchair transport to the exit. Such a silly regulation. I can stand to be around hospitals, but I don’t like them. As it turned out, Bruce didn’t feel well enough for the ride down to the farm, so he stayed home. We stopped in Junction on the way, to get Terie and Marty, and the four of us spent the holiday afternoon with Clan. I drank too much coffee and ate too much food. Had a very nice discussion with Peat about her job as newspaper editor next year. She’s laying the groundwork this spring, which is smart, and will spend some time in Europe this summer—quite a few Clan Kiddoes are following in my footsteps with travel abroad during student years. I found out that Seth has committed to Bellarmine. Looks like Sam Morgan will go there, too, and he’ll run track. We saw pictures of “Baby Molina,” and I got the data to do numerology charts for her and Torrance. Later in the day, I watched Marty conduct battles on the PC with ROME: Total War, and we played on the PS2 together, too. Our best boxing bout was Sugar Ray R against Sugar Ray L. Marty has moved to primarily sports video games because they require more controller skill, plus he’s getting more interested in the world of sport overall, which is having a bit of a spill-over effect for me. I actually cared who won the green jacket.
V & S
Posted in Creativity, Exercise, Family, Food, Friends, Holidays, Ian, Marty, Movies, Music, Numbers, Pets, Playtime, Prayer, Sport, Time | Comments Closed
Thursday, March 15th, 2007
March experiment—day fifteen— I was able to take care of my physical fatigue with a good night’s sleep below an open window. I needed to find another way—perhaps not as foolproof—to deal with my mental weariness, and so we watched a DVD that Terie had recommended, Stranger than Fiction. It’s an exceptionally good motion picture and hits rather close to home for me. I’m feeling a bit disappointed about learning that another company is abandoning one of the well-recognized logos we designed in the 90s. On the other hand, I’m happy about Hayley’s honor. The director of our Community Arts Center abruptly resigned, so I’m concerned about how that will effect my scheduled one-man show in May. My dear friend Shirley C sent me an email today with news that her husband’s 48-year-old son died unexpectedly. It’s important for me to transcend these emotional cross-currents and maintain focus on the goals I’ve laid out for this month.
Today’s sight bite— Abstract patterns on the natatorium ceiling pass by—c-l-i-c-k—gliding, drifting, fading above my backstroke—as devoid of meaning as the non-thoughts in my mind.
Tomorrow— Bump the cadence, just like I’ve done when running negative splits in a 5,000-meter race…
Posted in Angst, Business, Community, Death, Exercise, Family, Friends, Movies, Terie | Comments Closed
Sunday, March 4th, 2007
March experiment—day four— Not much to report. Trying to get past that early sleep-dep hurdle without overdoing the caffeine. First half of today was invested with plotting the next few weeks of work at my collage station, and then we were in Lexington with our friends, the Simpsons, including dinner and a movie. Amazing Grace is worth the ticket price. Ioan’s impressive performance is what I would expect from him. I might say the same for Finney, but the truth is he knocked me out with his supporting role. If you are in England and he is performing anything on stage, go there—tonight!
Today’s sight bites— Reproductions of John Salminen’s watercolors, stopping me in my tracks—c-l-i-c-k—c-l-i-c-k—c-l-i-c-k—as I browsed the art magazines at Joseph-Beth.
Tomorrow— Time to put my rest break behind me and press on…
Posted in Art, Friends, Movies, Personalities | Comments Closed
Sunday, February 18th, 2007
All weekend long I was thinking about describing the progress Dana and I were making on our conference room project, but then we decided to watch Clint Eastwood’s Flags of Our Fathers tonight and the entire post that I had composed in my head just melted away. That’s what thinking about the Battle of Iwo Jima does to me…
Posted in Blogging, Dana, History, Movies, Personalities | Comments Closed
Friday, February 16th, 2007
There’s no doubt about it, Steve Carell is on a roll, especially with his upcoming “sequel” to Bruce Almighty and the feature remake of Get Smart. Dana and I make no secret that we’re huge fans of The Office and we can’t get enough of this guy. That’s why we watched The 40 Year Old Virgin tonight. I usually come down “Yay” or “Nay” on most movies I see, but can’t seem to swing one way or the other on “Virgin.” As much as I enjoyed Carell’s performance and in spite of my general amazement at the cast’s brilliant improv talents, the picture is just too vulgar for me to recommend. It brings me face-to-face with my inner prude, and I can’t deny the genuine discomfort. What can I say? Perhaps the profound lack of personal satisfaction which derives from indulging banality is the underlying point of the comedy, and, if so, I’ll give credit where it’s due, but I’m glad I inhabit this side of the fuzzy line. When the laughter was over and the credits rolled, I wanted to gargle or something. Nevertheless, the flick’s “Age of Aquarius” closing number is one of the most delightful cinematic “curtain calls” ever done—I’m so ready for this creative team to dare themselves to take their whole product up a big notch.
Posted in Creativity, Movies, Music, Personalities | Comments Closed