Movie Reviews

I have been thinking of doing movie reviews for a while now. I don't have any right to do so except the A I got in film class in college and that was UVSC, so it doesn't count for much.( The only class I ever loved going to. Never missed a day.) Anyway, back to the point, I am doing this for fun. I have to be honest. I watch a movie 3 or 4 times a week. I don't watch much TV. I prefer to start and finish the story all in one night, no commercials. I need closure and TV does not provide that and the time commitment is great.

I will rate using the following system- when you should watch it. (even though I watch most of my movies at the dollar theater)



World Premier (A grade)

Opening Night at local theater

Dollar Theaters

Rental

Wait for the remake (F grade)



Now you have to realize that I don't watch most movies till they make it to the dollar theaters, so that is why Dollar theaters gets the C grade.



So have fun and argue with me all you want. . .

Cindy

Before Cindy, I scored my first girlfriend. It was in 4th grade, but for some strange reason I don't remember her name or her face. (so odd for me, not even a song- perhaps I made the experience up to boost my self confidence.)

I couldn't get the girl to commit to me but, I could get her to tell people that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. I used basic logic to woo her into my trap. I told her that she qualified to be my girlfriend because she was my friend and she was a girl. Somehow, she went with it. Silly girls.

Now as for Cindy, she was a passionate firery red-head. I always had a small weakness for red-heads. Loved Cindy Lauper instead of Madonna, and was smitten by Molly Ringwald. This Cindy had small freckles on her cheekbones. (Kind like my wife has now,never linked the two before today.) I don't know what it was about her, and lucky enough, it was short lived. I would love to tell you it was a triumph, but I never was a good liar.

I pretend that I had self confidence with girls, but I never was smooth and usully not sucessful. Well, one day on the south end of the school after recess ended, I was standing on the wall trying to look cool. It was the first time in my life I felt, maybe I was. I had my hair feathered and combed like the blonde kid from Karate Kid. I had rolled pants, and suspenders, that of course just hung there. So I tryed to be smooth and put my foot up against the back wall and I had my hands to the side (I am not usually this descriptive, but it will make sense in the end) Anyway, I pronounce my admoration for said lady, and what does she do? Swoon, fall at my feet, blush. . .?

Oooh noo. I wasn't rad enough for her, she walked right up to me and kicked me in the hand.

So what did I learn from this relationship. I learned that standing there open like I was against the wall would be a great metaphor about leaving myself open to women. I also learned that while I thought I was cool she proved I was nothing but luke warm.

Dawn

In Kindergarten, I got a letter pinned to my back. I was only educated to the K level so I wasn't smart enough to know that I was in trouble, so I took it home, gleefully.
It's contents where not as exciting. It seems that my teacher in her pious manner believed I talked too much and, get this . . .tried to kiss too many girls. . .
I don't remember any girls from kindergarten that I was in love with, for me it was strictly N.C.M.O. I remember two that where in love with me but for the protection of the innocent, and to avoid any unwanted libel suits, they shall remain unnamed.
I wasn't exactly a Casanova, but trying did help me learn from my mistakes. Here is the story of my first childhood crush. (other stories may follow, depending on demand and Wifee's consent)
Dawn was her name. I fell in "love" with her the first day of school. However, back then you couldn't find time to talk to girls, recess was too busy with Kick Ball and I couldn't tell her how I felt during lunch. It would take time away from eating and if I ate slower, it took time away from Kick Ball.
The good news is that Mrs. Ikahara, my teacher, must have known something and when we switched seats she put Dawn right next to me. It was on the back row, I can feel the sunshine coming in through the windows and shining on her golden locks. (insert your own "aahhh" here)
I would talk to Dawn all the time. For some reason my name ended up on the board more often than other names. Yet Dawn never really talked back to me as much. Is that stalking?
I didn't manage to get any digits out of this relationship, I just learned that I needed to be a better listener than a talker. (still working on the idea)
The highlight of the whole year was learning to Square Dance. (Perhaps the only dance I could ever do well. . .perhaps.) Somehow I managed to get her to be my partner. Oh, how I loved to dosey-doe my partner and it was my official hand holding first. She had small clammy hands, it was great.
So, what did I learn?. . .I liked girls, but not as much as kickball, and obviously other people need to talk more so my name doesn't look so lonely up their on the board.

Do you ever watch one of those shows that has some dumb criminal is getting arrested for a 2ND time for the same crime, caught by the same dumb mistake. Today, I was that guy.

My day started going down hill when I came back from lunch and one of my managers called my cell phone from inside the store. There is only one time we do that, it means my boss is in the store. Surprise visits are bad enough, but surprise visits on Saturday when traditionally your store is not looking it's very best is worse. I survived with only a few cuts and scraps. I get to see him again in just a few days. Perhaps one day I will go into detail what a visit is like. The Wife couldn't even tell you, I don't talk about them.

My day got worse, my wife called me later in the evening to inform me I would need to stop on the way home to get something from the store. I hate to shop on Saturday nights, it is always busy and I am tired from work. Tonight, not only would I have to visit the store on a Saturday night, but I would be buying what every red blooded man would prefer not to have to buy, femanine products.

Flashback: first time I had to buy these was for my mom when I was about 14. I felt so dirty. I stood on the aisle pacing back and forth for about 20 minutes. Don't ask what the deal was, just had to work myself up to it.
My question is why can't women send Men to buy other things at the same time, it always has to be "honey, I just need those"

So on the way home I debate which way to go home, I choose the streets hoping to visit a small store that has a self checkout so I don't have to worry about being seen with my pretty pink package.
I choose the streets and find myself in one of those sobriety checks the police like to do. I don't have to worry since the heaviest thing I had to drink today was a Cherry Dr. Pepper with extra cherry syrup. (available at your local Sonic for ninety-six cents between 2-4.) I sit in this line for what seemed like an hour, check the sport scores on the phone, watch as cars try to turn around and get away from the police check. I watched the passenger in the car in front of me spray something in the car and then time it just right as they dodge the police car and make a u-turn and somehow get away. I just continue to chill. Then my turn comes and I give the officer my license and proof of insurance. Everything is cool. The officer is chit chatting with me, then all of a sudden he says, "did you know your tags where expired?"

10 minutes later, I drive away irate. My tags expired a week ago. So here is where the dumb criminal thing comes in. I just paid a ticket for the other van about a month ago. Guess what for? Expired tags! We never got the renewal notice for either car, because I have not updated my license and the state probably sent the notice to my previous address. I asked for mercy which is something I have never done. Denied.

I finally make it to the store to buy my pretty pink package. (I don't quite understand why there are more choices of these things then there are of ice cream flavors) I go to check out and get distracted by a text and decide to reply. I stand in front of the self checkout and type my response. I then look up and realize all the self checkouts-are closed.

Two checkers are standing there willing to help me out. One checks me out while the other stands there and stares. I get my receipt and tell her they are for my emergency kit at home, heard they where good for filling bullet holes. OK, so not true, I didn't say a word, I took my pretty pink package and threw it in my see through bag and went home.

I am checking the tags on the Scooter!

OKC Sonics?

OK, just to make sure there is no confusion, I am a Lakers fan first and no one else will replace them.



Now that we have settled that, I was on ESPN.com getting my highlight fix of the ball games yesterday. (no cable, gents cry for me now!) So I came across a link about the Seattle Supersonics moving to OKC and how the Sonic fans felt about it. (Story)



Until that story I was all for the team coming here. It makes me feel like it is OK to live in OK. I have promised myself that I will go in with some friends and buy season tickets if we get them. The bond issue is up this Tuesday and I expect it to pass easily. I expect that Stern will not keep the Sonics in Seattle, and that the owner will move them here. But now, I feel like we stole a team from someone, from a bunch of someones. What would I do if someone stole the Lakers from L.A. I don't know, send hate mail to the mayor of the new city promising I will never ever visit their stinking rotten city, and that they have broken the heart of my child who is dying of cancer, who has a tumor the size of a basketball in his left lung. No, that just wouldn't be harsh enough. . .



. . .so the quandary. It looks like we are getting a basketball team and I want a basketball team, and I want to take my other three boys who are not dying from a rare form of cancer to games with me to share memories, and I am sorry that some great fans of the NBA are losing a team and their season tickets, and their children will not have father son bonding time anymore. (Dr. Phil show in 10 years?) Usually my capitalist side wins out on this type of situation, but if you know any fans, and there are some crazy fans out there (Johnson boys, Scooter,Walker) you know it is more than just a business, it is like part of the family, you feel their pain when they lose. (I still count the day Magic retired as one of my top 5 worst days of my life)



I just don't know what to do.





Tell me it's going to be OK?





P.S. To my Seattle friends. What did you expect from a state that celebrates Sooners, the thief in the night strikes again!



A not nice song to help the side of me that wants the team to leave Seattle. OK Go- Get Over It

Store Manager

A few days ago I got a call.

Customer: "is this the store manager?"
Me : "yes, how can I help you?"
Customer: "you guys sold me a piece of crap. You need to get out here now and fix it!"
Me: "OK, I will do what I can, can you let me know what is going on?"
Customer: "I bought a dryer from you and it keeps making a buzzing sound."
Me: "What kind of buzzing sound?"
Customer: "It happens when the dryer is running, I don't know what it is, you just need to come and fix it, I am not answering anymore questions."
Me: "I will get a service tech out there tomorrow to look at it."
Customer: "no, you will come out and replace it tomorrow or I will never shop with you again and I will tell everyone I work with that you sell junk."
Me: "OK, sir, let me call the delivery center and see if I can get it swapped out for you tomorrow."
Customer: "you had better"
Me: " I will call you back in a few minutes."

30 minutes later, I call back.

Me: "I will have new dryer out to you tomorrow."
Customer: "Never mind"
Me: "Why"
Customer: "my wife came home and told me that was the sound the dryer makes when the clothes are done."

Eric Clapton

Dear Boys,

Mommy has you brainwashed with Celine Dion's Taking Chances CD right now. First of all you should realize that mommy is so out of it, she still plays her music on CD! I guess it is time I intervene before the damage is irreparable. I need to introduce to you the biggest influence in my life musically.
First you have to understand how much Daddy loves music. Those big headphones he wears are not because he doesn't love you, and are not meant to be a punishment he just loves that song a little bit more than he should right now and mommy won't let him play it at the volume he wants.
I don't know how long ago I fell in love with music. I think I might have started in my Mother's womb getting down to my own heart beat and the liquid rhythms that must have surrounded that pre-birth experience. I confess that the first song I got down to was Michael Jackson's Billie Jean. I lived with my foster parents at the time and my foster sister Gracie would play music in her bedroom and if I hid in the closet I could hear what she was listening to. I fondly remember listening to the original MJ's Billie Jean. I guess you could say I was a closet Michael Jackson fan. Grandma Dean bought me that record when she found out. I listened to that thing like a 13 year old girl. I even used to enjoy pretending I was Michael singing against Paul McCartney on "The girl is mine" probably because I was more of a lover than fighter too.
From there on I sucked in any music I could get my hands on. I dreamed of being good enough to have a band of my own and my mom tried to foster this love, letting me listen to the radio for hours on end. She got me the Styx album because I wanted Mr. Roboto. If you think that is bad I won't tell you that in 5Th grade she bought me a Menudo lunch box, probably because I told her I loved Menudo and she thought I meant the band rather than the that delicious first cow stomach based soup.
I don't know how many people have soundtracks to their life, I do. I can't tell you the name of a guy I just met 5 minutes ago, but I can tell you that I was doing in 5th grade when Wham "Made" it big. I can tell you of the first time I heard many songs like Dead or Alive's "You spin me round round," Pet Shop Boys' "West Side Girls"
When I was in 6th grade I found Rap music on an AM station on a LA radio station. I used to sit in Great Grandpa's bathroom and listen to it. I would do so quietly because I wasn't sure if it was something I was supposed to be listening to, it seemed too different. Rap helped me get through the "hair" rock years which I thought was horrible, and I personally believe is responsible for one of the nastiest clothing mistakes since polyester, spandex. It eventually seemed to cross over to FM with bands like the Fat Boys, Run DMC, and the Beastie Boys.
Rap was also there during some hard years of my adolescent life, but that is a story for another time, when your older.
During all of this I was trying every way I could to try and play music. In 4Th grade I tried out for Choir 3 times, finally getting accepted probably because the teacher didn't know what else to do with me. I wanted to play an instrument but we couldn't afford the rental charge for an instrument, but in 7Th grade I finally got that wish and started playing the Sax and later the Tuba. I was never too good at either, but made some of the best friends and had the best experiences through it. (Yes that is why you have to play an instrument and not just sports!)
But the reason I write this entry is to tell you about Clapton. (I am currently in the middle of his autobiography and eating every bit of it up.)
The time I found Clapton was another dark part of life. It had been some time since Kim Johnson's death and I still had not figured out how to deal with it. I did not feel like I had the right to mourn his death as heavily as I did, I didn't know him all that well. Only a few snapshots in comparison to the mosaic that was his. Even though, the brutality of the loss of a man who was such a great father, something I had never had ate a hole in my heart. I couldn't figure out who to talk to about it, the only people I felt really understood needed someone to listen to them. I probably drove my best friends nuts. I remember doing a lot of journal writing at the time about it. (journals long time lost) I was also heavily burdened with the new religion I had found. I was not sure if I could be what it required of me. It made me change the way I viewed life, and I was not sure if that was something I wanted to do. I had many people who even though they loved me and wanted what was best for me in their minds or to save me from this new found cult, sometime myself. It was all hard.
Anyway, I had heard this song one day at work at Subway, half of it anyway, the store owner never could get the stereo to play correctly, so in the back you would only hear half of the song. I listened to Clapton's "Tears in Heaven" I wasn't blown away until a few days later I was sitting on the couch at home watching MTV when it used to still play videos, even if it was only 10 of them. I saw the Unplugged show featuring Eric Clapton. When I heard the song, I broke down, it was a great moment. In this song I found something for me to help me look at the death of Kim in a more positive manner if that can be said. Clapton was sad at the loss of his son but he found a way to be hopeful about it. It also helped me unite this world of pain and suffering with the unknown world of Heaven. Not only that but I started to feel like I was my father's son and I had work to do for him and a responsibility to do right for him and my family that were already in heaven. I felt like Kim and my own Father where together and Kim would watch over my family. Clapton's grief helped me rid myself of my own. There are not too many famous people I really care to meet, but I would like to meet Clapton to let him hear my testimony of what heaven really is and that his song helped a struggling 19 year old boy find his way. I guess that is what the Blue's are about right?
So yea, momma has you listening to some stuff that I don't really like, but if it makes her feel a bond with you boys, I will lend her your ear. Sing away little fellas, hope mommy is as understanding in 10 years when we are rocking out the house. . .in the white room. . .

Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong and carry on, 'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven.
Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven?
I'll find my way through night and day 'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven.
Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees. Time can break your heart, have you begging please, begging please.
(guitar solo)
Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure, And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven.
Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong and carry on, 'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven.
'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven.

Picking a favorite Clapton song is like picking a favorite Son, I might have one, but I am never telling. . .Here are two to enjoy from Unplugged. Tears In Heaven and Old Love .