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Posts Tagged ‘Woody Allen’

The big excitement in my life this morning was that Violet missed the bus. I wonder if I ever missed the bus. She didn’t see it coming down the block. In the spring, once the leaves are all filled in, it’s harder to see it out the window. When I grew up, we stood out at the bus stop like idiots, the whole time, like 10 minutes, in all weather, no waiting indoors with our iPods jammed into our ears. Those were good times, actually, my friend Todd Richard who lived a house away, my next-door neighbor Connie.

I heard a horrible statistic 2 days ago—that children spend 75% less time outdoors than in the past. I know it would help if I could remember facts and numbers (math is hard, especially for blond girls), but I’m going to use it, unsupported. This is Fuck it Friday after all.

On the way to school, Vi asked me if I knew a song called Long Black Veil. Sometimes, you know you’ve done something right, like raised your kid to listen for interesting music. I even had “Live at Folsom Prison” in the car so we could play it.

Here’s a lovely version. I never thought Kris Kristofferson was so smart, but he is you know. And he’s got sky-high legs and purty teeth (I am getting so old. Are those dentures?):

I peeked in on yesterday’s post and I was thinking that that photo is really unattractive, why not talk about it? The little barbell under the tongue is supposed to be good for blowjobs I’m guessing. I don’t need to hear a report or statistics or anything, but I am curious.

Maybe it is because men were dissatisfied with blowjobs sans accoutrement. I am getting to be so last-generation, such a fuddy-duddy.

I’m with Woody Allen, pretty much, on this one, though I am never sure if boys and girls are the same when it comes to orgasms. I think so, I think not, I think so, I think not.

the following portion of this post has been amended to correct a previous error in citation (see comment thread):

From Woody Allen’s Manhattan

Female party guest: I finally had an orgasm and my doctor told me it was the wrong kind.

Isaac Davis: Did you have the wrong kind? I’ve never had the wrong kind. Ever. My worst one was right on the money.

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Today, the music is courtesy of Camille Saint-Saens from “The Carnival of Animals,” the piece called “The Aquarium.”

Since I went to see “Tree of Life” last night, I was thinking about other Malick flicks. The movie was sold out, so we ventured on to “Midnight in Paris.” Nothing sums up my feelings for that movie quite like this review.

“Days of Heaven” is one of my favorite movies, but that’s really an understatement. Hence, I insert a quickie review of mine from a few years ago:

This is in my top ten of all time. A masterpiece from the golden era of American cinema. Allegorically, the story of the clash of agriculture with the coming industrial revolution. None better than the ethereally beautiful narrator played by Linda Manz and the only Richard Gere movie that’s worth a damn. Haunting soundtrack and haunting images. Unmatched cinematography. A time passed that we’ll never see again, both in cinema and in America. This should be required viewing for all. I did have a friend who thought it was too slow and that, well, nothing happened. Go figure.

Now please witness one of the most striking opening sequences in movie-dom and a perfect marriage of music and image.

(Sadly (and ironically since this is Music Monday) both the first and last few notes of the piece are cut off in this clip).

When I watch this, I feel like I’m seeing something I’m not meant to see–it’s all mystery, a secret. The turn of the boy’s head as he lights a cigarette; the smiling but calm children looking up from play. They can see through me. I am unnecessary, superfluous. I am the passer-by; they are permanent. Voyeur.

I recognize a couple of the images–the one of the man with the socket wrench is Margaret Bourke-White. I am sure I’ve seen the man jumping across the 2 rocky cliffs outside of these opening credits, but not sure where. That ice palace stuck with me from first time I saw the film; again, haunting is the word that comes to mind. I looked all over the internet and while I can’t be sure, I think it’s the Ice Palace from the Montreal Winter Carnival, circa 1884. Frozen in time.

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