RandomCha

After work tonight I had my first martini in about two weeks and wow, it hit me hard. It was pleasant at first, but now it just feels like a fog in my head. Not that that’s a bad thing. But it’s not so welcome if you had previously been thinking about accomplishing something after dinner. I feel like all I can accomplish right now is maybe type a few words and listen to some Ahmad Jamal. “Poinciana” always refreshes me.

I’m reading that book of Steve Martin plays that Andy gave me for Xmas. They’re pretty enjoyable. I wonder what they’d be like onstage. Speaking of which, it’s enormously satisfying that Tracy Letts won a Pulitzer today. I haven’t seen or read the play (though I had many chances to when it was at the Steppenwolf, dammit) but I have seen some of his other stuff, and I admire him. Seems like a pretty interesting guy. Intense. Visceral. Even if I go for a visit to NYC like I’m pondering, I know tickets to the show will be very pricey, a hundred bucks probably. Not really a possibility. But good for Mr. Letts.

Thinking about reading The Long Goodbye, since it’s the current title for “One Book, One Chicago.” I’ve read some Chandler stories but none of his novels. Good excuse to.

The weather this weekend was gorgeous but it played mind games with me. Definitely couldn’t stay focused. I just kept leaving the apartment, going on a series of long walks to nowhere. Then coming back for naps.

Work was wearying today.

Earthquake [1974]

1. My favorite line, spoken by Lorne Greene: “Barbara! Take off your pantyhose, dammit!”
2. Walter Matthau’s outrageous red/magenta hat, which makes him look like a drunk pimp.
3. Charlton Heston’s yellow teeth. Eww.

Charles Carter, 1923-2008

I just came back from the gym. It was my first time in exactly a week. Flu. This morning was hard but it felt pretty good. Actually, it’s always that shower afterwards that feels the best. Toweling off, clean clothes coming on. I do hafta admit–it’s a gorgeous day out there. I might meet up with a friend for a bite at Wishbone. Biscuits are sounding damn good right now.

Before Starbucks …

I finally started playing around with the raw VHS footage that I transferred to DVD. This is my first experiment.

Next to Gus Van Sant in the dungeon, there will be a very special place reserved in hell for the filmmakers of this blasphemy. Please Naomi, please, please, please let this be untrue. I hope that working with David Lynch taught you something.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, doing a lot of soul searching. I’ve decided that this November I’m going to vote for McCain.

The Woman in the Window [1944]

1. When Heidt is searching her apartment he opens up the bottle of perfume on her dressing table, rubs a bit on the lapel of his jacket and then sniffs.
2. The dainty after-dinner cups of coffee the gentlemen have their cigars at the club.
3. Whenever Alice buzzes someone into her apartment building, the doors make clicky-clicky noises.

The idiots!

When I gave my notice this morning I was told that they intend to leave my position vacant. That would make two day-to-day nuts-and-bolts office positions open. Apparently the “business” manager thinks that this office can just run itself. 

It will. Straight into the ground. This place is sinking faster than the S.S. Bounty. I sure am glad I’m getting out now. Within a month or two I might have gotten laid off anyhow.