I don't know why the audio is so out of sync. Apparently, I don't know what I'm doing.

A PSA from 1-800-CONSENT at Paperback Writer.... they forgot to include "Perhaps."

I was going to write a bit spoiler filled review here of Superman Returns, but really, this bit at 14850 sums up my feelings pretty damn well. LOOOVED IT.

Take all the good stuff of the first two Chris Reeve films, take out the stupid shit (spinning the world backwards to reverse time, telekinetic finger rays, Margo Kidder as someone any guy could fall for), put in direct homage via the little details (Kryptonite from Addis Ababa! 3-D-esque opening titles! Lois's secret smoking! Lex's obssession with real estate!), throw in the best special effects since the Matrix flicks went down the tubes, a superhero suit that actualy only gets one small rip in it (I'm looking at you, Peter "I've got an enless supply of spandex and a sewing machine" Parker) as befitting Kryptonion cloth, and this is the best Supes ever put to celluloid. Routh owns the role even though they don't give him as much to do as Reeve used to (probably for fear he can't really act... and I'm sure same was said about Reeve). But when he pulls a goofy grin as Clark to throw off nosey Lois from suspecting him of a dual identity, it all comes home.

Oh, and [spoiler], how the hell did I not clue in to the kid? Nice job by the producers and director in keeping that a secret, at least to me. It truly changes the status quo and gives me something to look forward to in Superman Returns 2: Electric Boogalo. Like the Spider-Man flicks which have their own arc now independent of the source material, with that one bit, the Superman franchise can move  off into its own universe, and will be the better for it.

The town of Ithaca has some pretty crappy movie theaters. While we get in good movies, even the artsy stuff that most people outside of big cities can only catch on DVD, the theaters themselves are old and yucko. (Fall Creek's man theater isn't bad and the seats are almost like small Laz-y-boys, but the sound sucks. You can't win.) Of course, the worst is the local chain, Regal Cinemas, which bought out Hoyts a couple years ago and did nothing at the time but change the sign. There are still thee theaters out of the ten in there that date back to my high school days. The other's aren't bad... for 1993. Supposedly, the Regal is building a new set of 14 screens with stadium seating in at the mall, and there might even be new stadium seating screens downtown with some other chain. But for now, going to a movie in town is not all it should be for your $8.50. 

So I wanted to go out of town to see Superman Returns. I bought tix to see it in Binghamton's Regal, which does have stadium seats and the whole magilla. The trouble is, I bought the tix for the same day that the entire city of Binghamton started to drown. It's turning into New Orleans down there, and I can tell you, no one will give as much of a shit about Binghamton going under. Some might say it already was.

Anyway, I hemmed and hawed and bitched and moaned all day about not going — I already spent $19 on MovieTickets.com and they're non-refundable! — but when a SINKHOLE opens up under Interstate 88 highway and swallows two trucks and killing the drivers (plus rivers are cresting banks and 150,000+ people are being evacuated in Pennsylvania, and  blah blah blah). I guess its time to stay home. So I'll go to the crappy mall theater here and stop bitching.

Serious... a SINKHOLE. Jesus. [[MSNBC is now calling it a chasm. That sounds even worse.]]

If Superman had returned, I'd like to think he could have fixed the highway first....

Just in case you haven't seen it yet...
Apple - Trailers - Spider-Man 3

Wow. Maybe Venom doesn't suck.

I was just telling Josh today how amazed I was a decade ago when I went to see a movie in January and saw a trailer for a film not coming out for six months! The very thought was crazy, advertising for something that wouldn't be along for half a year. Yet...the anticipation for that film (Independence Day) based on that trailer was phenemonal. Buildings blowing up! White House destroyed! Alien invaders! I didn't even know the president was played by Bill Pullman, my hometown's hero even tho he doesn't live there anymore and hasn't in decades.... (I felt the same way about the very advanced promos for the 1998 Americanized Godzilla... at least until I saw the flick.)

The reason the topic came up was, with Superman Returns opening tonight at 10pm (I won't be seeing it until tomorrow tho, as I am wretched and old), the time has come to steal a bit of the Kryptonian's spotlight with some web slinging. Thus, the trailer for Spider-Man 3 is going to be on the Web today, supposedly at 2:30pm Eastern (check www.quicktime.com). This comes ten months before the film preimieres (May 4, 2007). If i'm not mistaken, Supes had his first Returns trailer online well over a year ago (tho it might be what's called  "teaser trailer" in which they don't really show anything but a logo or some such). It's the new paradigm: make them want it before you even finish making it. Some geeks are already buzzing about an Iron-Man movie coming in May 2008, which doesn't yet have a script or a cast.

And, of course, I can't wait to see Spider-Man. Even though I loathe one of the villians they're using in the new film, I have my calendar ready to remind me at 2:30 to pop over and check it out....You know the song. Cause here comes the Spider-Maaaaaaaan.

(Yes, Spider-Man has a hyphen and a cap "M". Superman, no hyphen, lowercase "m". Learn it. Know it. Live it.)

Perhaps even more amazing -- the Spider-Man trailer might run with the Superman movie. Warner Bros. will hate that, but fanboys in the audience will scream like delighted little girls. I will be one of them, until my wife elbows me in the abdomen.

When I can go into the tent sale outside Dick's Sporting Goods and see these products, marked "Head Covers" and actually spend up to 30 seconds trying to figure out just how one would put such a thing on their head, and why... yeah, I may not be a golfer.

This realization was underscored when I looked around and found myself surrounded by golf shoes and bags of clubs.

In my defense, I was pre-occupied wondering if the silver Toyota Prius parked not far away was the same one I saw driving around Ithaca on Friday with a Flying Spaghetti Monster raised car decal on the back. It wasn't. But this shows that my piorities are definitely with parodical dieties and not on the links. Ever. Glory be to his noodly appendage.

From Superman Hype! --Listen to the Full Superman Returns Score! Stream it. and you will believe a man can fly.

I got a chill down my spine just listening to the first few bars -- and I listen to the original 1978 soundtrack album all the time. Amazing.

Dad

Last weekend the wife -- who soars so high, she hits the Squanto-sphere! -- took a mightly leap away from the operating system Dark Side. She renounced the Sith of computing known as the Windows PC, and bought herself a Macintosh laptop. It arrived today in a box fresh out of China (by way of Alaska, then Memphis). Inside is a sleek, tricked out 15-inch MacBook Pro that will be warming her thighs (get your head out of the gutter) for years to come. And what's best, this is one of them new Intel-based Macs, so if we want to, we can install Windows on it anyway! Blah ha ha! It's Jedi and Sith, all rolled up in one!

Oh, and she bought me an iPod (super cheap with her eju-mi-ca-shun-al discount through the college). It's black. It holds 60 Gigabytes of digital goodness -- not just music, but also pictures and, oh yes, VIDEO. I will be watching TV from my hammock for the rest of the summer. I would do that even without an iPod, but Squanto won't let me set it up in the living room.

<GLEE> She'd rather buy me toys. </glee>

(I haven't exactly been a Mac nut for the last few years. My first computer was Apple II compatible, and after I discovered Macintosh in college I bought one, a IIsi, which even through the college cost 1/3 more than this current laptop. I sold it around 1998 to some guy who wanted to get a computer for his daughter (sucker). I've been without a Mac in my life ever since and never thought much of it. But something about these new Intel Macs calls to me. I like the thought of having the best of both worlds when it comes to my OSes. Even tho it's not my laptop.... must... remember... that. Luckily, I can play with it all I want when she's at work.)

(Think how much better the ending would be if the guy didn't drink the Folgers but instead pulled out a shotgun....)

My friend Josh travels. A lot. He writes about his travels. A lot. He went to Trinidad and Tobago (a country made of islands in the Caribbean, for those geographically retarded types out there like me). While there, he ate termites. Because life to him is like Survivor every day. He probably wrote about it, though I can't find anything on his site or SmarterTravel. But as he knows well, writing is for suckers! Who needs words when there's video featuring him eating termites. (Skip ahead about 2/3 of the way through the video -- he's the scruffy white guy on the tour.)

I got an email this morning from a person working for an "entertainment and lifestyle marketing company specializing in online grassroots marketing." They saw that I mentioned the TV show Numb3rs here in the blog a few weeks back and thought that just maybe I'd like to help them promote the release of a different TV show coming out on DVD. She apparently didn't notice that I stopped watching Numb3rs awhile back. The show she wants to promote I never saw at all, so I wouldn't feel right about promoting it.

I told her if she needs help promotoing shows like Battlestar Galactica, LOST, The Shield, Deadwood,  or Veronica Mars, I would whore myself out gladly. In fact, I think I just did. Maybe the more I mention their titles, other grassroots marketers will find me via search engines and contact me and I can get some free DVDs of shows I already watch. Here's hoping.

When it comes to the construction that's going to happen on the lots to either side of my house, I'm definitely betting on the north now. Even though the south has started work, grading in an access road for the four house development they want to build there, nothing has happened for almost a month. I think they're waiting for a sucker buyer or four.

Meanwhile, last night I actually met the guy who owns the freshly-shorn land to the north. He's the publisher of the local newspaper and wants to build ASAP so he's closer to work (he's commuting about half an hour). Downside is I probably have to move my sheds, which appears to encroach on his land, but he's not being a dick about it and insisting I do it immediately, so I already like him.

Holy crap, am I glad that I don't deal with the actual AOL service or company anymore (only their IM network, and even that I only use through the Trillian software). Check out the blog entry at insignificant thoughts...

Recently, I decided that I could spend $14.95 a month in many better ways, and decided to cancel the AOL account. Knowing the horror stories, I decided to do the deed at work where I could record the whole thing. I knew it was going to be good, but I had no idea it would be the abusive disaster it was.

The ass-munch on the AOL end does everything he can to delay or prevent the cancelation. Amazing -- and better yet, the whole thing was recorded, so you can listen to it.

Knowing that I have the film Transamerica in from Netflix waiting to be watched, my friend Joe sent me the following instant message after he saw it:

"You know, I've said it before and I'll say it again-- you haven't seen everything until you've seen Felicity Huffman urinating out of a prosthetic penis."

Earlier this year, the big field to the SOUTH [wise-ass!] of my house got plowed under and turned into a big lot fit for four houses. That's the plan, as far as we know. For weeks tho, not much has gone on over there.

Today the noise from outside began anew and I figured maybe, just maybe, they were going to put a house there. Finally. At lunch I spotted something else though -- a brushhog parked in the property to my NORTH. (He's out there now, making noise like the smoke monster from LOST.) We've lucked out at this house for 4 years having no neighbors on either side --- and now we might have them on both. Though this could be just a prelude to nothing. The lot to the south got brushhogged down to nothing a couple of years ago and then sat until this year. We shall see.

I don't know why, but this incident that took place in 1999 (though "incident" might be too strong a word for it) keeps coming back to haunt me recently. I was reminded of it again tonight when I set up a new station on Pandora that plays nothing but old standards (Dean Martin, Mel Torme, Louis Prima, The Mills Brothers, the Ink Spots, and Cab Calloway all get heavy rotation. God, how I love the Mills Brothers singing Lazy River...)

Anyway, I was in New York City visiting some friends. We'd all been kicked to the curb from our jobs with FamilyPC magazine because we didn't want to move with the mag to NYC (where it later went belly up, no surprise). The powers that be hadn't had the forethought enough to hire new designers before they fired everyone who lived in Massachusetts. Thus my friends Mike and Amy, who were the entire design staff anyway, got hired to come to NYC on a freelance basis until new people got hired. They got to stay in a couple of company owned studio apartments for free several weeks. My friend Dana and I went down on the train in March or April that year to visit them (she was dating Mike at the time... since they, they've cohabitated and had a kid named Gus, Dog bless 'em. If you're reading... Hi, Mike!)

I had a great weekend, even when it included Amy and I walking some 30-plus blocks in the rain one night. But that's NYC for you. We popped into some gallery downtown selling Lichtenstein-esque art of giant popcorn buckets or $30,000 a pop. We pretended to be a couple when the guy tried to talk me into buying one for her as gift.

The "incident" was a simple embarrassing thing that happened on Sunday morning, just a few hours before Dana and I were on the next train back to Springfield, MA. We'd gone to the East Village to have some breakfast or brunch at some trendy place that also happened to feature live music. On a Sunday morning. That's NYC for you.

We were joined by a friend of Mike's, very nice guy who was obviously a NYC native, or native enough to act like it (something I never have been even though I worked in Manhattan for almost two years.) The music act was group of musicians featuring a gigantic fat man in a tan suit and fedora hat, overflowing on his chair while playing trumpet (maybe it was sax, I don't remember). Occasionally he would remove his horn and sing. He had a voice unlike any you'd usually hear from a male. Not bad, just... feminine. It reminded me if some artist I probably knew in my days working the old-folks radio station back in high school. I wanted to contribute to the conversation like I knew something about the performance.

So I blurted out, "Wow, that guys sounds just like _______."

I say blank, because I don't remember who's name I said. Ella Fitzgerald? Billie Holiday? Eartha Kitt? Lena Horn? I don't know. All I do know is that the millisecond after the name left my lips I realized, I don't know what I'm talking about.

Mike's friend gave me a look of such -- not disdain, not disgust -- more like sad pity. It withered me to a husk and I wanted to climb into my mimosa. I was clearly so out of my depth, a jazzless yokel without a clue. The only village I was suited for was the damned. Without music.

There. Exercised that demon. Now maybe I can get back to thinking about actually important embarrassing moments in my life, like that time in 6th grade I walked through the school cafeteria with my fly wide open.

Testify!

Lewis Black interviewed at The Onion's A.V. Club:

Anybody who likes writing a book is an idiot. Because it's impossible, it's like having a homework assignment every stinking day until it's done. And by the time you get it in, it's done and you're sitting there reading it, and you realize the 12,000 things you didn't do. I mean, writing isn't fun. It's never been fun. It's momentum, and once you get the momentum going, that's great, but it's a brutal experience in many, many ways. And when you're done, people tell you "Well, gee, I'm not interested." "Great, I'm glad I sat down and wrote this!"

A few weeks ago the wife decided she would put out a new kind of bird feeder, a little mesh cylinder filled with peanuts.

You know what kind of bird's like peanuts? Little furry ones called squirrels and chipmunks. They've been on top of that thing like a fat kid on chocolate cake, 24/7. She tried lacing it with cayenne pepper to keep them away -- 50,000 Scovilles! --  but they apparently thought that just gave the food the right amount of spicy goodness.

Yesterday, I was in the basement working.  From upstairs came the sound of something falling down. I looked around, saw all three of my Labrador Re-idiots  in various states of repose.and knew it wasn't them. They looked at me like, What the hell do you want us to do about it?  I went to check it myself. Caper yawned.

A number of items I had sitting on a window sill had fallen over to the floor. The window was open slighly, so I figured that was one heckuva breeze. I put them back and turned around to go back downstairs -- just in time to see a bushy tail dive behind the couch in the other room.

I think I said something like, "Bwaa-uhh!"

The weather outside was nice, so the back door had been wide open, to facilitate dog defication without my having to step in as third party opener like I am through 9 or 10 months of the year. This particular member of family Sciuridae paying me a visit must have run out of spiced peanuts on the back deck buffet and decided to investigate what else he could partake of.

I opened the front door as well, and then started walking around, stomping my feet. I might still be at it, but luckily I did see the grey and brown flash of tail as not-so-secret squirrel went out the door, across the yard, and up a tree. Nothing but plain, boring nuts for him in the future, sad to say.

Through all of this, even when they came upstairs to investigate my stomping, my watchdogs, the first layer of security between me and the encroachment of potentially rabid nature, they saw nothing.

Eating some home-made (by me!) turkey chili out on the deck for lunch this afternoon while reading the latest PVP tradepaperback collection. I was scooping chill into my gaping maw without much thought, reading away, when I happened to glance toward my spoon and was horrified to see on the back half of the spoon a SPIDER! I almost flung the scoop of chili away to splatter on the house. I instead just pulled it way and saw the spider kind of... ripple.

That's when I realized that what I was seeing with the reversed reflection of the underside of my green deck umbrella's support arms.

They appear far more menacing in a spoon, trust me.

Listen to reversed Weird Al and Britney Spears on BackMasking.

You'd think that with the end of the television season, I’d have all the time in the world. But summer arrived with a vengeance last weekend (highs in the 90s with thunder-boomers galore) and sapped some of my will to do anything. I’m still slogging through the second draft of my novel, guilt-ridden with every day I don’t work on it. I’m supposed to be reading my friend Josh’s first draft of the first half of his novel, but I petered out after the third page because I could tell it was going to be a complicated read, and I was having enough trouble getting through A Feast for Crows by George RR Martin (a book that requires multiple online encyclopedias devoted to it just to get people back up to speed in between the 2 to 4 years between books... I literally just looked at it and got sucked into another 15 minutes of reading of backstory). I finally got through thatbook last night and this weekend will indeed be devoted to my novel, Josh’s novel, and getting out in the sunshine. Or rain, whatever.

The week’s been strange as well because the wife is at camp. It’s a dog agility camp where she’s working, so she attends for free, and with the heat and my wanting to write and read all the time, it felt eerily like our vacation last year into New Hampshire. The upside is, here I do have TiVo and a car so I could get away -- yet I didn’t leave the house at all from Monday night to Thursday night. Today I left for an hour to run some errands and found the town hall closed so I couldn’t pay for the dog’s licenses and that the items I was going to get my sister-in-law for her birthday are 2x the price I though they were, so back to the drawing board. It doesn’t pay to leave the house.

The most interesting aspect of my week was that I spent the entire day Tuesday not wearing any underpants. Seriously, it was just too hot.

All of which is to say, I don’t feel like there’s much to say. It’s a readily pparent, my blog lacks a focus outside of being a typical online diary. But I’m not going to turn it into a tally of my every move or you’d get nothing but this:

1) Got out of bed at 8:45 and ate a banana and granola bar for breakfast

2) checked e-mail, dumped 350 spam messages

3) Checked blogs.

4) Took the daily constitutional. Showered. Shaved (maybe). Dressed (definite maybe).

5) Looked at all the Wi-Fi press releases out for the day, tried to decide what was newsworthy.

6) At leftovers for lunch while watching Daily Show (or, today, a really bad Godzilla movie).

7) Wrote news stories and blurbs/had vendor meetings.

8) Checked Wi-Fi releases and other news sites again to see what I missed.

9) Posted news stories and blurbs.

10) Sent newsletter.

11) Played outside with dogs until they gave up, which doesn’t take long in the heat.

12) Mowed lawn.

13) Wrote? Blogged? Thought about both, but probably read blogs and entertainment news.

14) Waited for wife to get home for dinner and/or walk so she could tell me about her day dealing with idiots (I live vicariously through her.)

15) Repeat.

Blah. Speaking of which, I have to go mow the lawn.