The Search for John Gissing

Now I remember why I cancelled the NetFlix membership the first time around.  Aside from the fact that my tv died.  They make out like bandits if you hang onto the movies for two weeks before you watch them.  I finally found the time to plop this one into the dvd player last night.

Cute little film.  I can't see what the big fuss was about it - why it took so long to release it to dvd, as they did, why no distributors picked it up, which they didn't.  I'm not sure if the NetFlix dvd version was with or without the changes that Jack Binder wanted to make to the film pre-release.

It was funny!   Some parts a bit overworked.  Stereotypical characters, i.e. the low class slightly thuggish cousin from Yorkshire; the crazy older German Lady (reminded me of Frau Blucher in Young Frankenstein just a little bit); the fussy French C.E.O.; the helpful but opportunistic London cabby.  But somehow it all works.  It's a nice piece of ensemble acting.  

Some standouts.  Janeane Garofolo is a babe.  She was absolutely hot while still being bitingly funny.  The actor who played the cleaning guy was hilarious with his various choices of music to clean by while taking bribes for access to various offices.  Rickman - as usual - is amazing.  Too bad this little gem of a performance probably won't get the attention it deserves but he is such a good comic actor.  He was over the top when called for and delightfully underplayed and subtle at the same time.  That and he fills out a pinstriped suit quite nicely. 

Enjoy the end credits sequence - the entire cast tap dancing - you'll have to rent the film to find out why!

Wreckless Eric!!!

Gotta love it when you get a text at 6-something p.m. telling you that Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby will be playing locally at 8! Complete surprise. I had no idea they were coming. Sure glad I didn't miss out!

They were awesome - dodgy keyboard set up and all!  It had just gotten to Portland, to my friend's work, from eBay and Amy hadn't even gotten to play it before Thursday.  Worked out fine.  She's possibly more awesome even than Eric himself.  They're both all kinds of 'wow' (which is what I said 'bout Obama's acceptance speech when we were all having drinks earlier and cracked everybody up) hee!

See for yourself!

She didn't do that one this time, but did the last time she and Eric were through - last winter.

Here's Amy & Eric together

I'm sure glad someone did "Nail them Together"   They really are all kinds of 'wow'.

...even better - they're playing for kids!  That's in a library. My love for these two just grew 10 times - though I gotta know how Eric made it through the entire show without a single 'f*ck!" :)

If you're a Seattleite or heading there for Bumbershoot they're playing up there today-Saturday August 30 - 6:45 PM - 7:45 PM @ Wells Fargo Stage.

Please Ralph Give Me A Spanner...

'cause that's what I want

Robyn Hitchsock modeling one of the Catnip Wrenches (insert copyright symbol here - where the hell are the special characters in blogger?) I made this week.  Cat toys for Gear Head Cats.  Or for Gear Heads who have cats.  Take your pick!

Just the wrench.  Filled with catnip!  

Bottle Shock morphs into Top Gear via Citroen

Just what my August Dog Days lethargy needed, Cynthia and I caught a showing of the new Alan Rickman film, Bottle Shock, about the 1976 Paris blind wine tasting where the Californians whooped the asses of the French and set in motion the changes that have led to the current success of wine producing regions from all over the world.  I didn't realize that Cynthia actually grew up in Fresno and had a much more personal connection to the story than I did.  Her review is brilliant and very informative.  I'm going to talk about other things.

Cars.  The Citroen DS.  The film was full of them!  Wonderful vintage* "Clam" Cars!  Or so we called them in my circle of friends.  I hung out with the 'faculty brat' crowd despite my family's very blue collar background.  All of my best pals were the kids of U of O professors or administrative staff and had spent years of their lives - on sabbatical -  in exotic places like Paris and London and knew about these foreign things.  Beckie's dad drove (and may still drive - he was religious about oil changes and maintenance) a toothpaste-bluegreen 1967 Peugeot station wagon.   That and there were a couple Citroen DSs on the road in Eugene Oregon in the 1970s.  We thought they were the epitome of cool even though none of us had driven or even sat in one.   Many years later when I finally made it to Paris myself, I got the hairy eyeball from a French businessman who thought I was inspecting his parked beautiful bronze-brown metallic coated DS just a little too closely. 

Captain Slow agrees:

I didn't realize that all those things were done by Citroen first.

You know, back in 1988 when I bought my first VW Jetta, a 1989 GL, Black, which I knew was the car of my dreams I did take a look at two other cars.  They were a 1989 Peugeot 505 STI that came absolutely loaded for about $26K and a Saab 900 S that was in the same ballpark.  Peugeot has pretty much pulled out of the US now so for practical reasons maybe it was a good thing I couldn't really afford it at the time.  The Jetta was half the price and she (Gretta) served me well for 14 years.  In fact all this week I've been kind of nostalgic for Gretta - to the point of looking in cars.com to see if any worthy 1989s are available now -  and kinda wish I hadn't sold her.  I wonder how well the Peugeot would have fared?  It's too bad that we Americans are so limited, car-wise.  Especially where French cars are concerned.  Anybody remember "Le Car"?

One Bottle Shock point that Cynthia didn't make:  Alan Rickman driving a beater AMC Gremlin is very funny.  Another:  Dennis Farina can actually steal scenes from The Master, Rickman himself.   Kevin Costner finally got paybacks for Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves.

The Search For John Gissing came Saturday in the mail from NetFlix.  I'm having myself a Mini Rickman Filmfest this weekend!

  

*They weren't vintage cars at the time the film is set; they were in production until 1976.

Date My Dad!

I know he'll never read my blog, so (devious laugh) it's time to see if we can't find my Dad a nice Lady (that part IS important) to spend time with.

The particulars:

He's 72 years old and his hair is still mostly the dark brown he started with.  A little bit missing on the top.  He's got pretty blue eyes (I got mine from him) and good teeth - all his own, thank you very much!  He works out every day - walking and a cardio session - and is in better shape than I am.  He's not a big guy - about 5'5" and around 150lbs.  He's a Cancer by astrological sign, so he's a little bit sensitive and moody, but he has a great sense of humor, too, and can be very quietly funny.

He's a morning person.  You don't have to be (he's made allowances for me) but it would help if you like the hours of 5 a.m. to about 10 p.m. best.  

He's traditional and conservative in his views.  Sometimes this can be a bit annoying (to me) but he enjoys a good debate and can argue his side.  Well.  Again, he's made allowances for my much more liberal views.  

He's very protective of those who he cares for and sends the mushiest birthday cards - awww, cute!  

He likes his 2000 Jaguar S-Type but has a travel trailer (a caravan if any Brits or Top Gear fans are paying attention) and a truck to tow it as well.  He's sensible, though, and the Jag's his 'good' car.  He drives a Subaru Outback most of the time.  Both the Jag and the Subaru bought used. 

He enjoys good Scotch, red wine and a nice meal - Jake's, The Ringside or McCormick's in Portland are some of his favorites, but I usually get together with him for breakfast on weekend mornings and he likes Mc Menamins' Kennedy School a lot.  And Old Wives' Tales - that one has me puzzled 'cause it's really East Side Portland Funky Hippie-Alternative - but hey, the food is good!  They have the best Hungarian Mushroom Soup on the planet, not that we eat it for breakfast.  All restaurants are local to the Portland, Oregon/Vancouver, Washington area.

He doesn't really care that much for sweets - not even chocolate - I must have gotten my addiction from my Mom.

He tends to read books about real people and history rather than fiction.

He's not so into pets.  We had a dog when I was a kid, but Dad would prefer a pet-free lifestyle. He's resigned himself to having Tabby Boys as grandkids on my part by pretty much ignoring them.   Thank goodness my other siblings have the human grandkid (and great grandkid) thing well taken care of.

He can make anything out of wood or metal and has built houses, fine furniture (he likes Shaker inspired design - he made me a beautifully proportioned console table with two drawers out of cherry wood that is my most prized furniture possession) and an airplane and a sailboat.  

The kind of woman that would do best with my Dad will be somewhat traditional herself, straight but not narrow perhaps, have opinions of her own and be able to support them articulately.  She should be retired and free to travel and roughly the same age or a little younger than 72.  She should be moderately active as he would like to have someone to take those early morning walks with.   She should be petite - he doesn't think that tall women like short guys - but he's not one of those little guys who like tall blondes either.  At least not so far. 

Any interested parties please post a comment to this blog explaining a bit about yourself and why you think my Dad might be the right guy for you.

..but Bugatti IS Volkswagen now, right?

The first 'guy' I remember really noticing (my first grade 'boyfriend' didn't really count after all...) was a very dapper young Englishman who attended the same parish we did from when I was about 12 to 14 or so years of age.  I think his name was Frederick.  He was small, maybe 5'6"* with longish brown hair, tidy sideburns and he always wore nice pants - cords - a button down shirt and a sport jacket.  True, I always saw him at mass so he was dressed up.  I'm sure he was a grad student.    Parish members who wished to took turns reading the scripture that the priest had selected for the mass and Frederick often read.  Mom and I were both secretly in love with his British accent and his friendly but reserved manner.  We never saw him outside of church.  I don't remember him taking part in after-mass white powder donuts and coffee in the parish basement.  

Our parish was the U of O campus Newman Center.  We had a very hip pastor who wore Hawaiian shirts and sandals under his vestments and always had a dog named for a saint.  Genevieve and Jeremiah, successively, were the ones in residence when we knew him.  The church was usually full to standing room, so the back doors were open in good weather (there was a huge overhanging porch of sorts so even if it rained it wasn' t too bad) and if a neighborhood cat came in it was allowed to stay or leave as it pleased.  The room was very modern; cedar shake covered walls angled inwards making a trapezoidal space, hung with banners for each liturgical season; the stations of the cross were wood relief carvings in an expressionist style and the altar was a simple but beautiful slab of natural stone.  The chalis and other serving pieces for the mass were hand-thrown pottery.  Simple, elegant and spare.  The only detracting feature were the plain metal folding  chairs in place of wooden pews.  

We never saw Frederick drive away but we figured he must have a cool car.  Mom had only recently traded in and was missing the Dark Green 1966 Ford Galaxie 500XL (two enormous doors and a huge 428 cubic inch engine that had you going scary fast before you even realized it) on a Blue Pinto Station wagon with faux woodgrain sides.  It was the 70's and the first oil crisis and the Galaxie drank too much and went through mufflers at an alarming rate, so the Pinto was a necessity. There were a number of old MGs on the road in Eugene in those days and we figured one of them had to be Frederick's, even if we never actually saw him behind the wheel.  Realistically, he probably was a grad student and too poor to own a car.  Or maybe he had a beater VW.  Or a Chevy.  We never found out.

So therein lie the foundations of what has come to represent the perfect man for me.   A cool accent, preferably British, and a cool car.  True, a lot of years have passed since the Frederick infatuation, but channel flipping through my new cable selections landed me accidentally on BBC America on a Monday night and I encountered Top Gear for the first time.   A car show for those who don't really get off on car shows strictly speaking (they play soccer with teams of Toyota Aygos and VW Foxes!) with three distinctly different but Funny Regular Bloke journalist/presenters:  Jeremy Clarkson big and imposing, very opinionated and the ringleader; Richard Hammond a.k.a. "Hamster", almost too precious and cute -  all 5'6'' of him with carefully gelled hair and very white teeth (you'd think he'd be the one I'd fall for). But no.  The latest object of my fangirly affection is none other than James May, known as "Captain Slow" for his penchant for big luxurious cars, finding the most esoteric solution to any problem at hand and getting lost.  Except that he's the one who drove the Bugatti Veyron at 250 MPH - go figure.

Bugatti Veyron On Top Gear - The most amazing home videos are here

He's the only bachelor of the three  (he's got a long time girlfriend) who lives with his cat, Fusker, and a lot of cool cars and motorbikes; uses a Mac and a fountain pen; has a degree in music, messy long hair and a small plane license; does a wine show when he's not doing Top Gear; writes an entertaining weekly column in the Telegraph - online- and is overall inexplicably cool while being a complete OCD nerd at the same time.  That and he doesn't like VW Beetles.  I can overlook that minor flaw.   He's - perfect!  

I stumbled upon his booking agency while I was scouting eBay UK for collectables that our eBay might not have.  Found lots of "Mrs. James May" key rings and pillow cases, evidently he's the latest British Thinking Woman's Secret Crush.  

I really wanted to find a good shot of him in one of his loud rugby striped sweaters, the pink and purple one is especially choice, but this picture with his Boxter S** is just, well, look...

**& an Edit.  After finally locating a full size version of the cropped image above (cropped for the best part, of course) that ain't no Boxter S but a 911 997 Carerra S.

 Hmmm...  Oregon has a thriving and fairly exclusive wine industry.  Perhaps I could entice him to come scout the Yamhill Valley wineries for a future installment of his wine program?  I'm already envisioning picking him up at the airport in my Cyber Green Turbo GLX New Beetle.   We'll head out 99 West to taste Pinot Noir and keep going to the coast.  Hwy 18 has the Van Duzer Forest Corridor - beautiful on a moonlit night - or Hwy 6 follows the Wilson River and is a fun curvy road.   Maybe I'd even let him drive...

*Not a bad thing.  The world could use more handsome men in the 5'6" or so range.

Taming the Backyard Jungle

Spent three and a half hours whacking back the very overgrown lilac and forsythia bushes in my backyard.  Got three bags of yard refuse to show for it.  Alas, that is only the beginning.  I've got grass going to seed in the middle of the thyme that grew over the stones I put down after covering the entire space with landscape cloth.  Thought that was 'sposed to stop the weeds?  Ha!  The weeds just sneer at it.

  

The forsythia was completely covering the chair when I started this morning.  The akebia on the fence is growing up a squirrel-planted tree (growing between my fence and the neighbor's fence  - how the hell am I 'sposed to get at that?) at least there's less of the forsythia for it to grab onto now.  There's still passionflower vines in the top of the forsythia and in the neighboring spirea that I haven't started in on yet, but they're kind of pretty blooming out of the green.

And the lilac had reached over and crowded the potted maple.  Now it has a little room to breathe.  Leaving the volunteer violets under the maple be.

Haven't gotten to the stuff on the left behind the table and chairs.  Somewhere in the middle of those dandelions are lavenders and against the fence line are three quince.  You can't see around the corner, but there's blackberries and nightshade and another squirrel-planted tree of some sort that all need to come out.

Yet more viney things tangled in bushes.  Got star jasmine all tangled in the camelia and growing on the side of the garage over the hydrangea.

 
The bags of trimmings in the garage.  Note the fire engine red doors (to the kitchen and my bedroom closet) that were on the list to be stripped and repainted white and off white respectively.   Somehow I don't think I'm going to get to them this week.