Bright Spots and Black Holes

Having the Dish Network and, therefore, over a hundred channels to choose from is an interesting thing. First of all, a hundred channels is not as many as it sounds like. A good chunk of those channels are useless. The Jewelry Network? The born-again-preacher-yelling-at-me-in-a-southern-accent channels? Being able to watch CSI:Miami at any time of the day? No thanks.

But there are obviously good things too. There are tons of movies to watch at all hours of the day (which I always like) and plenty of episodes of Phinneas and Ferb (which the girls love.) Suzanne enjoys the Food Network, HGTV, and TLC.

In my ongoing effort to categorize the world, I have to mention a couple of what I consider to be TV bright spots as well as a couple of black holes.

The Bright Spots:

The Ace of Cakes and specifically Mary Alice.


The show is fun because it's interesting to see how the team creates these elaborate, over-the-top cakes but it's also enjoyable because of the personalities involved. Each of the team members is quirky and interesting in his or her own way. Chef Duff, of course, seems like a fun guy to hang around with but Geoff and Anna and the rest all seem like they would be good coworkers and excellent lunch-mates.


I do have to confess though that I have a crush on Mary Alice. I'm not sure what it is other than she's very smart and witty and always seems to have a half-suppressed smile in her voice. She just seems cool. Perhaps she can be my third wife after Suzanne and Van Halen's song "Panama."

Chopped.
Chopped is everything Iron Chef is supposed to be but much, much better. You still get all the tension and excitement of dishes created on the spot, under a deadline, but none of the obnoxious, over-the-top sportscaster stupidness that ruins Iron Chef. Also, unlike IC, the food that gets made on Chopped actually seems like food real people in a nice restaurant might eat. This is the opposite of the creamed-octopus-brioche-brule-served-in-a-bed-of-toasted-oxtail-fricassee-with-a-dollop-of-stewed- gooseberries-in-a-fine-orange-liqueur-in-a-burnished-oyster-shell stupidness that gets created regularly on Iron Chef. Yes, the judges are kind of pretentious and the host guy needs to take a Zoloft but hey, I think foodies in general are kind of pretentious and intense - so let's just go along for the ride.

Man Vs. Food.
This show is fun to watch because Adam Richman knows his stuff without seeming fancy or full of himself and he just really seems to enjoy and appreciate the places he visits. Plus, it's fun to watch a guy start to cry and drool all over himself when he eats Atomic Hot Wings or the six pound sandwich or whatever. I enjoy the freakshow element of the program.



Now, for the other side. I'll be brief because I don't want to dwell on the negative.


Will somebody please, please, please shut this guy up? Please? Or at least get him the memo that he's not 17 anymore? Anyone?

Also (and this goes without saying),


she must be stopped. She's hawking dog food now. Dog. Food. Stop the "striking while the stupid iron is hot" madness. Plus, she talks like she's on crack.

A Few House Pics

There are still things to do - painting the paneling in the kitchen, replacing the flooring in the kitchen, new drapes, etc. But overall it looks great, thanks to Suze!

Was There Friendship Before Facebook?

Thanks to the magic that is Facebook, I've recently gotten back in touch with an old friend from Idaho State, Jeremy P.

Back in the day, when I was a scrawny, pimply, angry, young, just-returned-missionary at Idaho State, I heard that Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the poet and publisher, was going to do a reading in Ketchum. I stood up in my poetry class and announced that I'd be making the drive and asked if anyone wanted to come along. One lone hand raised and it was a guy named Jeremy. He asked if he and his girlfriend, Katherine, could come. It meant company for me and a split bill for gas so I was all for it.

So Katherine, who was a music major, sat in the backseat looking at sheet music and Jeremy and I spent the whole drive over and the whole drive back jabbering. About what, I don't remember but I do remember thinking that he was a funny, smart, cool guy. So, in that magical way that is simple and undefinable, we became friends. We both belonged to the creative writer's group on campus, both worked on the literary magazine, both stayed up waaaaayyy too late in the computer working on papers that were due the next day, and we both read and wrote a lot of poetry.

Jeremy, Pat, Dorian, sometimes Andy, and I would meet pretty regularly at Main Street Coffee and news to read poems, be snarky, and laugh. A lot. Jeremy and I spearheaded a summer reading series at Main Street that brought in cool poets and pretty big audiences (for a poetry reading anyway.)

Jeremy got a spot at ISU's then-burgeoning radio station, KISU, with his show, In House. It was a couple of hours of cool, underground,independent music that wasn't like anything else you could hear on the airwaves anywhere around. For a brief time, I was In House's resident "poetologist" and I got to go on the air once a week and read a poem. I always thought J. was both generous and tolerant to allow that.

Anyway, life changes. Things happen. I got married and graduated. Jeremy shifted his major. He went one way, I went the other, and we fell out of touch. We communicated off and on but life always seemed to take over and we never stayed in contact for long.

The funny thing was that when I left ISU, it was to go to Boise for an MFA program in creative writing and, the whole time I was there with "serious" writers and published authors, I never felt for a moment that I had as good of a creative community as I had in Pocatello with Jeremy, Dorian, Pat, and a few others. All the advanced degrees and published books in the world couldn't compete with the combination of smarts, compassion, humor, and friendship that I encountered at ISU.

Years later, I was supposed to go to Jeremy's wedding. (He came to mine. He and Dorian are on my wedding video.) I didn't make it because I had to teach a class that day in Ketchum (that fateful place) and I had a blowout on the way out of town. Les Schwab's service was unusually slow that day and by the time I headed back out, it was too late to make it to the wedding. I've always regretted that. I still have the handmade book I was going to give J and his lovely bride that day. I guess now I can get his mailing address and sent it to him - although, rather than a blank book for two newlyweds to write love notes in, it can serve as a coloring book for Gracie, their beautiful and funny one year old. How time flies, eh?

Anyway, you will notice to the right under my list of regularly visited sites a new addition: OPB Music - Oregon Public Broadcasting Music. After ISU, Jeremy took his In House act on the road and has ended up as a regular feature on the airwaves in Portland. You can stream his show along with all the other music being played in Portland any time you like. If you like music that is new and unexpected, Jeremy is your guy and In House is your show. Give it a whirl.

Meet John Searchers

Over the weekend, I watched two classics - Frank Capra's Meet John Doe and John Ford's The Searchers. To be honest, I got John Doe just because I knew my girlfriend, Barbara Stanwyck, was in it. The Searchers I got because so very many critics call it the best, most important western ever made. When I hear hyperbole like that, I have to investigate.



Meet John Doe was fine. Gary Cooper is charming and the story had the same "little guy makes a big difference" theme as some of Capra's other well-known films like It's a Wonderful Life and Mr. Deeds Goes to Washington. Barbara had little to do in the third act except sob and look ill. It's interesting to see how much difference the role itself makes. She's so powerful and memorable in the roles that give her things to do - Stella Dallas, Ball of Fire, Double Indemnity - but even with all that talent, if the script just calls for her to be a secondary character, then that's what she is. Sigh. Oh well.



The Searchers is the tale of Ethan Edwards, a hard-bitten Civil War veteran with a shady past. He comes to visit his brother, Aaron, and Aaron's family out in Texas and, not long after his arrival, there is a Comanche attack. Aaron, his wife, and their son are all killed while the two daughters are kidnapped. The older of the two daughters is eventually discovered dead but the younger one continues to be held captive by the sinister Comanche chief, Scar.

The film centers on Ethan's years-long search for his niece. Edwards' is shown as an angry, violent racist who, we find, would rather have his niece dead than defiled by a Comanche. It's surprisingly dark and unyielding for a film of the 1950s though it's not without its moments of seemingly required slapstickery and silliness. The real treat, at least of the version I saw, was the cinematography. The version Netflix sent me has been digitally restored and the colors are sharp and the textures are really clear. Ford composed some truly gorgeous pictures for sure.

Anyway, both films are good though neither really rocked my world. I've got Stagecoach waiting for tonight - another John Ford/John Wayne western. I'm trying to sprinkle my list of things I have to see (westerns, musicals) with movies I want to see (noirs, thrillers). So after I do this stint in the Old West, I'll get Ricardo Montalban as a leading man in the 1949 noir Border Incident. How can you go wrong with that much rich, Corinthian coolness?



I mean, it's this guy:



and this guy:




What else do you need?

Me and All The Good Looking Women In My Life