Fly Me to the Moon

It's pretty rare that an animated feature is released that isn't made by one of two animation behemoths--Pixar or Dreamworks. But that's about to change. Summit Entertainment bills Fly Me to the Moon as the "first ever animated feature created for 3D." What this means is that the movie is the first computer generated feature conceived and produced in 3D for a 3D only release. All other 3D movies were filmed in 2D and converted into 3D later. It's actually the "first ever" 3D movie I have seen, so although I have nothing to compare it to, I must admit the 3D was pretty impressive.

Fly Me to the Moon is also unique in its use of "parallel cameras" where the frame is exploded around the picture to create space rather than the traditional convergence technique which results in a flat, window effect. Technical effects aside, the movie tells the story of the Apollo 11 space flight and lunar landing--as seen through the twelve eyes of three young houseflies: Nat, IQ and Scooter. There are some great moments of visual whimsy as the filmmakers give us a "fly's eye view", but the movie lacks the all ages wit and charm of a Shrek or a Toy Story.

No matter--it's perfect for the young ones. The screening I attended was filled with kids who were completely transfixed throughout. It's a cute and clever way to give youngsters--whose parents probably aren't even old enough to remember the 1969 Apollo mission--a bit of a painless science and history lesson. Featuring the vocal talents of Christopher Lloyd, Kelly Ripa, Ed Begley Jr. and Buzz Aldrin as himself, Fly Me to the Moon offers a "fly on the wall" perspective to a major historic event. And with its use of ground-breaking 3D technology, makes a bit of history itself!

Food, Glorious Food!

If you're in the SoCal area this weekend, forget Disneyland or Universal Studios or even the beach and head to Anaheim for America's Best Food Events The Celebrity Food Show. Running August 15th through the 17th at the Hilton Anaheim, the show features celebrity chefs, a cake competition, wine and gourmet food tasting and probably enough to feed a small third world nation.

One of the exhibitors at the show will be Fresno-based Bouquet of Fruits which will be sampling their gourmet Swiss style truffles (flavors include appletini, creme brulee, pina colada and raspberry cheesecake to name a few) and their LIQUID wine filled chocolates, chocolate caramel apples and unusual fresh fruit varieties
(like black apricots). Damn, this is making me hungry just typing it!

Entrance to the food show costs only $10 per adult ($5 for Seniors) with children under 16 getting in FREE! (These people obviously have not seen how much food a fifteen year-old boy can eat!) Ten bucks, people! For all you can nosh--so skip breakfast and head to Anaheim hungry. And if you go, check out Bouquet of Fruits' table and tell Cory that Stella says "Hi!"

Gnome Sweet Gnome

I was checking out Amazon.com in my ongoing quest to find an affordable digital camera and what should pop up on the home page? Joining the ranks of foam fingers, bobble-heads and terrible towels is the officially licensed NFL (and MLB and NCAA...) Garden Gnome.

I kid you not.

I once saw a Steelers Nutcracker that I was sorely tempted to purchase for my Black and Gold emblazoned brother. This is so much better!

I think I know what a certain someone might be getting for Christmas...

The French Chef was an American Spy

Julia Child worked for the OSS during World War II.

Wow.

I thought she made an awesome Duck L'Orange--who knew?!!!

Hmm--maybe Chuck Barris really WAS a hitman for the CIA...

Not Left Behind

"How do you do anything with your left hand? I don't understand!," my Dad would tease me growing up. Other than writing with ball-point pens (which would invariably get smeared as my crab-like hand moved across the page...), it wasn't all that difficult. One problem I did have, however, was instinctively being able to tell my left from my right. If my Mom told me to fetch something for her from say the upper right dresser drawer, I'd have to stop and think which hand I wrote with and then make a mental note. Sometimes, after figuring out which hand was the right one I'd put it on my head so I wouldn't forget when I got to my destination. Turns out, that not being able to quickly discern right from left is a fairly common quirk. And even more common with lefties.

Something else that is proportionally more common with lefties is how often they run for President. Both John McCain and Barack Obama are southpaws--so which ever man wins, we'll have a lefty in the White House! According to the article in the Washington Post:

No matter who wins in November, six of the 12 chief executives since the end of World War II will have been left-handed: Harry Truman, Gerald Ford, Ronald Reagan, the elder Bush, Clinton and either Obama or McCain. That's a disproportionate number, considering that only one in 10 people in the general population is left-handed.

Other famous left-handers include:

Ben Franklin (with whom I share a birthday in addition to hand preference!)
Joan of Arc
Julius Caesar
Alexander the Great
Charlemagne
Napoleon
Helen Keller
Buzz Aldrin
Dave Barry
Edward R. Murrow
JFK Jr. AND his sister Caroline!
Jay Leno and David Letterman
Lenny Bruce
Clarence Darrow
Jack the Ripper and the Boston Strangler
Lewis Carroll
Mark Twain
David Byrne
Kurt Cobain
Jimi Hendrix
Paul McCartney
Michelangelo
Robert DeNiro
Whoopi Goldberg
Oprah Winfrey
Mark Spitz, Bruce Jenner and Dorothy Hamill
Kermit the Frog and Bart Simpson
as well as Me and my blogging buddy, Elisabeth!

Happy Left-Handers Day! If you're not a southpaw, don't feel "left" out--some of my best friends write with the wrong hand!

Filter presents Barker Block Sunset Series 8/14

This Thursday. Free drinks (compliments of Hope Wine and Colt 45), music (Kissing Tigers, The Kiss Off and DJ Pants Off) and art (Love Hangover Exhibit). What more could you ask for?

The details? Oh, yeah! See below:

Date: Thursday, August 14th
Time: 6 - 10 pm
Place: 513 South Molino Street, Los Angeles, CA 90013
RSVP: barkerblock@filtermmm.com

You must RSVP for entrance! See ya there!

I am not a cell phone person

I think I've made it pretty clear how I feel about morons and their attachment to their cell phones, but wouldn't you know that today, again in yoga class, I was stupefied by the arrogant self-absorption of yet another cell phone junkie. This time it was before class. I had arrived early to arrange my mat and chill out before class. It was just me and Jessa the instructor when some chick, chatting on her cell phone, strolls in and sits herself down.

She wasn't planning to take the yoga class that started in another ten minutes or so--she was merely looking for a quiet place to have her oh-so-very-important phone conversation. Problem was, as soon as she entered the classroom yak-yak-yakking away, the room was no longer quiet and peaceful.

I walked up to Jessa as she stood at the stereo system. "What kind of music do you have for us today?" I queried. "Oh, same as last night's class," she replied shrugging. "That's cool," I said. "I think you should put it on and blast it right about now." Jessa tried to stifle a smirk. "You know," she smiled, "I was thinking the very same thing." She turned on the music--just a bit louder than necessary.

The cell phone wench immediately leaves.

"That was effective!" I said laughing. Jessa looks after the figure walking out the door. "That was obnoxious," she sighed.

Maybe the cell phone wench should invest in a personal cell phone booth.

Personal Theme Songs

I talked about TV Theme songs a while back--but there was a TV show that was more memorable to me not for its theme song, but the promotion of the concept of a "personal theme song." Whether it was John Cage head-bob to a Barry White intro or Calista Flockhart's bony body bopping to a 60s girl group song, David Kelley's quirky dramedy Ally McBeal defined the concept of latching onto a catchy tune and meaningful lyrics as the soundtrack for your day--or life.

Here are some lyrical snippets to my own personal theme songs. Bonus points if you can guess the song/artist:

1. Well I never lived the dreams of the prom kings
And the drama queens
I'd like to think the best of me
Is still hiding up my sleeve

2. To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball

3. They're calling all the shots,
they'll call and say they phoned,
They'll call us lonely when were really just alone.
And like a funny film, it's kinda cute
They've bought the bullets and there's no-one left to shoot.

4. Crazy are the people walking through my head.
One of them's got a gun, to shoot the other one.
And yet together they were friends at school

5. How can I be sure you're breaking all the rules
How can I be sure I should be high above
I'll climb the mountain, reaching for the skies
And all too soon I jump the moon and find I'm losing my mind

6. Some have a style
That they work hard to refine
So they walk a crooked line
But she won't understand
Why anyone would have to try
To walk a line when they could fly

7. Wanna stay out late
With those ostracized guys
Silver glitter on my face
Smear a little round my eyes

8. To avoid complications
She never kept the same address
In conversation
She spoke just like a baroness

9. Don't tell me you don't know the difference
Between a lover and a fighter
With my pen and my electric typewriter
Even in a perfect world where everyone was equal
I'd still own the film rights and be working on the sequel

10. Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight
Got to kick at the darkness til it bleeds daylight

Pineapple Express

When I first heard about this Seth Rogen project (I really only knew the title and that it was a Seth Rogen project), I was like "eh." Then I heard the premise about a stoner and his dealer on the run from a drug lord and again I was "eh." Then I saw the trailer with Rogen and James Franco frantically bumbling around an apartment with Rogen shouting, "We need snacks!" and I thought, "This will be hysterical!" Certainly most of the reviewers thought it was uproariously funny.

I just came from seeing it and my reaction is "eh."

Don't get me wrong, Pineapple Express definitely has its moments, the problem is that they aren't quite enough of them. The film gets off to a sluggish start as it establishes Rogen's character of Dale Denton: a process server and talk radio fanatic who dates a high school senior and spends as much time getting stoned as possible. The movie picks up a bit when we meet Saul (played with slovenly sweetness by James Franco), a good-natured purveyor of pot who loves old sitcoms and his old bubbie. Franco, with his woozy grin and stuporous naivete, nearly steals the show.

That is, however, until we meet Red. Played with ridiculously deadpan glee by Danny McBride, the character ups the ante for ludicrously funny. He's the Energizer Bunny of the movie and sadly, there's not enough of him. Whether it's Dale and Saul frantically flailing around in a forest, or Dale, Saul and Red in the midst of pummeling each other with Dustbusters and glass bongs, or a whacked out car chase through a Sears parking lot, the movie worked best for me when it was MOVING. There's a slight running gag where druglord Ted Jones (Gary Cole in evil bastard mode once again...) and crooked cop Carol (Rosie Perez) think Dale must be some super assassin instead of the stumbling stoner that he is in reality that could have been amusing had it been more developed.

But what really was left underdeveloped was the "buddy" portion of this stoner-action-buddy comedy. Although Rogen has said the relationship between Dale and Saul is the most important part of the movie, I wasn't quite feeling the connection. There were moments: a montage of playfulness in the forest, a rambling heart-to-heart smoking dope up in a tree, Saul gingerly trying to piece back together Dale's mangled ear; and certainly Franco conveyed a puppy dog likeability as he tried to be pals with Dale. But I felt like Rogen didn't deliver the emotional goods when he professed that the two were BF...FF, "best fucking friends forever!" Oh, and for the critics claiming homoerotic subtext: the scene where Saul is rubbing his duck-taped wrists bound back his back against Dale's belt buckle is played entirely for laughs and anyone who's seen Rogen in a pair of BVDs ain't feeling erotic--homo or otherwise!

While Pineapple Express was quite the non-stop laugh riot I expected it to be (Let's see how Tropic Thunder does next week...), it had its high points: Franco's sensitive stoner, Danny McBride, Craig Robinson (aka Darryl from The Office) as a droll but dim-witted hitman and a hell of a ridiculous knock-down, drag-out ending featuring more guns, violence and explosions than Scorcese's The Departed (along with some purple nurples and a killer Dae Woo) and the film's best line in Korean and subtitled in English: "Prepare to suck the cock of karma!"

What's in a Name?

True story: I was at a rather lame event the other night, but was fortunate to meet a very nice woman named Jennifer. When I introduced myself, she complimented me on my name and asked if my parents were astronomers. Interesting response; more often I get asked whether my parents were into Tennessee Williams or a rather annoying Brando impersonation. This is one of the rare occasions where someone has intuited the celestial origins of my appellation (Stella is Italian for "star") which, as a matter of fact, is why I chose it.

She went on to tell me a great story about a guy she knew whose father WAS an amateur astronomer and who named him (wait for it!): Uranus Jupiter Apple. Can you imagine a better defense for patricide than that?!!! Of course we've heard the hideously precious names that celebrities come up with for naming their children: Apple, Pilot Inspektor, Moxie CrimeFighter, Dweezil, Moon Unit. (Hey, wouldn't it be cool if some day Jason Lee's son and Penn Jillette's daughter got married and then the wedding guests would be biting their lips trying not to laugh when the minister says, "Do you Pilot Inspektor Lee take Moxie CrimeFighter Jillette to be your lawful wedded wife?")

As bad as those names are, I still think Uranus Jupiter Apple is worse. Jennifer said they all called him "Bob." Understandable. She also said that "Bob" eventually married a woman named "Fanny" and that she often fantasized about calling them up and saying, "Hello Fanny! How's Uranus?" "You can't make this stuff up!," Jennifer said to me. Indeed you can't--recently a judge in New Zealand made a nine year old girl a ward of the court so that her name could be changed from "Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii." Unfortunately, that wise judge can do nothing for Pilot Inspecktor or Moxie CrimeFighter--much less poor Uranus Jupiter!--but it's definitely interesting how important and powerful a name can be.

There's a whole sector of the marketing industry dedicated to developing the perfect name for a new company or product. Viagra (sound like vital, vigorous, virile) and Verizon (sounds like horizon), Google (implies infinite possibilities) and Amazon (also implies vastness). Although some product/company names needed a bit more vetting. Anyone remember the workstation manufacturer WANG? That was a mistake. I used to work in an office which utilized those computers. We had an IT guy named Bill, who abruptly left the company for a better job. I needed to get some info off of Bill's workstation. I asked my co-worker Jeff if he had seen Bill's WANG. With as straight a face as he could muster he replied, "No. And I don't want to."

Personal names matter as well. I may not be the only person to attribute negative qualities to a name. A former boyfriend named Chris which was followed by another Chris, who in short order became my friend, roommate, fiance and then ex-fiance, tainted the name for me for many years. They were followed by a horrendous former manager with a Napoleon complex, a flaky inconsiderate roommate and a careless hairdresser. I've also had bad associations with people named John--but that name has been redeemed by my Capricorn buddy in Alaska and my friend from my former book club here in L.A.

A lot of people don't like their names. I had a co-worker who wishes her name was "Heather" rather than the classic "Elizabeth." My sister, however, at one point created a new name for herself by smashing her first and middle names together (Laurieanne) and adding "Elizabeth" as a new middle name. It was a bit of a mouthful. Now she just goes by the nickname "T." I legally changed my name and most people who meet me prefer "Stella" to the name given to me at birth. Even my brothers and sister have adapted to my new name quickly after calling me by the old one for so many years. My brother James was nicknamed "Jamie" as a child--which became a taunting reference to "Jamie Sommers," aka the Bionic Woman. So he goes by "Jim" or "J.T." So now we have Stella, J.T. and "T" in my family.

I thought my brother David was the only sibling who was at peace with his name. Not so. "Do you have any idea how many DAVIDS there are?" he asked me. This is true. I have probably known DOZENS and DOZENS of Davids. Not even counting high school or college, in addition to my brother there's been an ex-best friend, ex-cowriter, ex-boyfriend, ex-manager, ex-pen pal, business acquaintance, recruiter, current best friend and too many more to remember. I think the maxim "Everybody knows a Mike" should probably be changed to "Everybody knows a Dave." Or two. Or a dozen...

So whether it's a ubiquitous "Dave" or the offbeat "Meat Puppets," I'm not sure I buy into the whole "rose by any other name" theory. After all, who'd be thrilled to receive a dozen stinkweeds?

Glamorama by Bret Easton Ellis

Let's see the last couple of books were The Sweet Hereafter by Russell Banks which featured incest and a horrific bus accident, Cormac McCarthy's post-apocalyptic novel The Road and the dense prose in the weighty volume of Salman Rushdie's The Moor's Last Sigh. Can I be blamed for wanting to lighten things up a bit?

Unfortunately, Glamorama wasn't quite the ticket. Like Bret Easton Ellis' prior novels, it features beautiful but vacuous and vapid people who wear designer clothing, go to VIP parties and sleep with each other in a bed-hopping frenzy that makes Melrose Place look like a monastery along with an excessive amount of name-dropping of celebrities and status symbols in long lists of vogueing poses and extremely long and unpunctuated run-on sentences that are breathlessly repetitive and wearying to the reader.

Less than Zero, which is the only other Bret Easton Ellis (I keep calling him by his full name because I'm not sure whether it's appropriate to refer to him as "Easton Ellis" or just "Ellis" in the way of shortening things...) is about beautiful and emotionally empty young people in Los Angeles. I could appreciate the satirical portrayal of too much money, too much time and too little moral grounding. I saw the movie American Psycho based on his book and again it portrays young, attractive but morally empty people whose only concerns are with status symbols like getting a reservation to an exclusive restaurant, Armani suits and the perfect font and card stock for one's business cards. I can appreciate Bret Easton Ellis' (it just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?) call to awake from our morally shallow and materially obsessed lives and realize that our fascination for status and popularity is ugly and useless.

But how many books with the same characters (and in some case Bret Easton Ellis actually recycles character from one book into another), the same obsessions, the same nihilistic lifestyles do we need? Glamorama is merely a continuation of the satiric rant started with Less than Zero, this time revolving around the empty life of Victor Ward, a former male model with a predilection for calling everyone "Baby" and quoting song lyrics, with no real aspirations other than looking good, hanging with the beautiful people, @#$%ing models and living his boringly hedonistic lifestyle. When Victor comes into contact with a mysterious F. Fred Palakon, it changes the course of his life:

"I stare at him, lost. "You want me to go to London and find some girl I don't even remember dating?"

"So you've understood me," Palakon says, visibly relieved. "For a moment there I was worried that nothing was registering."

Suddenly contemplative, I stare into Palakon's face. "You look like the kind of guy who eats his own scabs.," I murmur. "Did you know that? That you look like that kind of guy?"

"I've been called many things, Mr. Ward, but a scab-eater has not been among them."

"Hell, there's a first time for everything, buddy," I sigh, pushing myself away from the table, standing up. Palakon keeps staring at me, which makes me nervous and all tingly, creeps me out in a way I've never been creeped out before."

Then the story gets REALLY weird with supermodel terrorists, doppelgangers, altered identities, bombings, torture, an omnipresent film crew, a film-within-a-film crew and, inexplicably, copious amounts of confetti. I guess it's supposed to represent the tenuousness of a life based on physical appearance, the disposability of celebrity, the media (and "our") obsession with violence and the absurdity of reality TV (Victor was rejected as a cast member of The Real World FOUR times...), but I can't see I really got it the way I got Less than Zero.

The novel is divided in six parts, all of which count down (Initially I thought it was telling the story backwards like Memento, but I think it was more like a timer countdown for a bomb--or maybe the New Year's Eve ball drop in Times Square, which could account for all the confetti...) except for the last chapter. Some of the many references that were hip and cutting edge then (Does anyone remember Martha Plimpton or Dan Cortese?) are dated and obsolete now--which may have been exactly what Bret Easton Ellis (What is it with the three names? Two were good enough for Hemingway and Steinbeck, man!) was aiming for. It's weird and trippy and reads like an oversized issue of the National Enquirer, but ultimately for me didn't amount to much at all.

Which may have been the whole point...

08/08/08

If you're into numerology, today's date is pretty auspicious: 08/08/08. Numerologically speaking that converts into an eight (8+8+2008=2,024; 2+0+2+4=8), which equates to power and money.

So it's a good day to get promoted, get a raise, get ahead.

And, the Olympic games start today.

Go forth and prosper!

Memos to Morons - part five

TO: My fellow yoga classmate

RE: Your cellular device

The time is the 7 pm Wednesday night yoga class. The place Bodies in Motion in West L.A. And you, the chicklet wearing the olive green ensemble with the red yoga mat, ruined my zen as your cellular device chirped sporadically but repeatedly throughout class.

I can understand perhaps forgetting to turn it off before class started, but the first time it goes off why didn't you quickly turn it OFF to prevent it from continuing to disturb your fellow classmates? It chirped about a dozen times--even during savasana! I wasn't sure where it was coming from, but sure enough as soon as class was over you rolled up your mat and stuck your headset into your ear and started chatting before you even got out the door.

Did you think the rest of us were so impressed at your apparent popularity? Think again.

If I am ever unfortunate enough to share a class with you again and you forget to turn off your cellphone, I will come over to wherever you are and stomp on it.

I may even stomp on you.

You've been warned...

Bottle Shock

After reading a review of this little indie flick about Napa Valley's rise to prominence in the wine industry (think Sideways meets Rocky), I decided to check it out yesterday. I wasn't sure what to expect; the name was reminiscent of Wes Anderson's debut, Bottle Rocket but actually refers to a temporary unsettling of wine when it's transported. Sort of like jet lag for grapes...

But the movie had a lot of things going for it: shot in Northern California, based on a true story and starring Bill Pullman, Freddy Rodriguez and Alan Rickman. Okay, I admit it--I went to see it for Alan Rickman. While I have made no secret of my crush on Freddy Rodriguez (aka "Gio" from Ugly Betty), my adoration of Alan Rickman--whether he's the consummate bad guy (Die Hard, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves) or the sympathetic good guy (Sense and Sensibility, Truly Madly Deeply)--knows no bounds.

The year is 1976, the U.S.A. bicentennial, and Steve Spurrier (Alan Rickman), a British Francophile, comes up with the idea to stage a blind taste test between the world dominant French wines and the Napa Valley upstarts. Rickman's role in the film is somewhat limited, but it's like biting into a Godiva truffle everytime he makes an appearance on screen. Effortlessly elitist, Rickman also manages to make Spurrier appealing in his own inimitable way. Except perhaps to Jim Barrett (Bill Pullman) who frustratedly asks, "Why don't I like you?" to which Rickman's Spurrier replies: "Because you think I'm an ass. And I'm not really. It's just that, well, I'm British and you're not."

Co-writer/director Randall Miller talks about how he was inspired to make the film:

"The story of a lawyer who risked everything in the pursuit of an artistic dream (to make fine hand-crafted wine) is what initially hooked me into wanting to make Bottle Shock. I had directed studio movies and some TV before I convinced Jody (my wife and partner) to mortgage our house so we could make a movie we felt passionate about. That movie, our first indie, was called Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing & Charm School. Bottle Shock is the heir to that choice."

The film has its flaws: a dizzying overuse of aerial shots of the Sonoma Valley, a confusion of multiple story lines that leave all the stories a bit undertold, a predisposition for proselytizing and sermons--particularly at the mid-point of the story where we get a passionate outburst by Gustavo (Freddy Rodriguez), a sonorous voiceover by Rickman quoting Galileo ("Wine is sunlight held together by water"), followed by the techical and philosophical musings of Pullman's Barrett as his imparts vinoculture wisdom to aspiring vintner Sam (Rachael Taylor). It's a bit much and weighs down the film. It would have worked much better had the writers interspersed the philosophizing in little sip-like doses throughout the story.

For me, watching people taste wine is like watching sex scenes on film: I personally would rather be an active participant than a passive spectator. My knowledge of wine and my palette are severely uneducated, but I'd rather be drinking good wine than viewing it on screen. Still, it was incredible satisfying (as well as educational) to watch the story of how Napa Valley vintners triumphed over the French--not only in 1976, but again in a 30th anniversary rematch staged in 2006. Go Team U.S.A.! For the American vinophile (I'm thinking specifically of my gourmand sister and brother-in-law), Bottle Shock has a lot to offer: lush scenery, rich characters and a vicarious thrill of a delicate chardonnay.

And Alan Rickman.

Filter Magazine Flicker series presents Hamlet 2

Filter Magazine presents a special advance screening of the comedy Hamlet 2 as part of their Flicker Film Series at the Arclight Cinemas. Written by South Park scribes Pam Brady and Andrew Fleming (who also directed), the film stars Steve Coogan, David Arquette, Catherine Keener and Elizabeth Shue.

Hamlet 2 premiered as a late addition at the Sundance Film Festival and sparked an all-night bidding war for the distribution rights. Eventually Focus Features acquired worldwide rights for $10 million--almost tying the Sundance record set by Little Miss Sunshine, which sold for $10.5 in 2006.

Will Hamlet 2 end up being a sleeper comedy hit like its predecessor Little Miss Sunshine which went on to gross over $100 million and garner four Academy Award nominations? That remains to be seen--but if you want to see Hamlet 2 for free followed by a Q&A with actor Steve Coogan, here's the 411:

Date: Tuesday, August 12th
Time: 7:30 pm
Place: Arclight Cinemas
6360 West Sunset Blvd., between Vine and Ivar
RSVP: Name, affliation and number of guests (max. of 2) to rsvpla@filtermmm.com

A confirmation e-mail will be sent, but confirmation does NOT guarantee admittance so arrive EARLY!!!

Laying off Latex

If you're some kind of PVC pervert who stumbled on to this post seeking to indulge your prurient fantasies--move along. This ain't no fetish post. Today's topic is latex. Or more specifically latex allergy. Which, apparently, I have.

It's not really surprising. I'm allergic to cats and dogs (but mostly cats...), trees and grass (Sneezing and wheezing during pollen season!) and dust. Try being allergic to dust--it's EVERYWHERE! And then some random things like cigarette smoke, mint (Lifesavers make me sneeze!), nickel (can't wear cheap jewelry), but I never really thought I was allergic to latex.

It all started with this weird rash that started on the right side of my face. Sometimes it would flare up. Sometimes it would spread across my neck. It would get flaky, it would blister and ooze. Attractive, huh? I went to a dermatologist. He said it was contact dermatitis and prescribe topical cortisone. What am I coming into contact with? He mentioned nickel as a possibility. Aha! I stopped wearing cheap jewelry and earrings. The rash subsided.

Then it returned and would flare and ebb for years. Nothing I tried could soothe it. Another dermatologist said it was rosacea. Hmm--I don't think so. Rosacea usually shows up on one's cheeks and nose--not their jawline! Still suffering, I went to see a dermatologist at UCLA. Again a diagnosis of dermatitis. Okay, but what am I putting on my skin to make it break out in a rash?

Turns out it wasn't what I was putting on my skin, but into my ears. Namely, earbuds.

I've been walking around with music pumping into my ears pretty much since the Walkman was invented. I'd go through headphones one after another. Until I couldn't find a cheap and decent replacement pair and had to settle for (horrors!) earbuds. I'd avoided earbuds because, even though they're not nearly as dorky looking as headphones, they look uncomfortable. And in fact they ARE uncomfortable. But I soon got used to them. What I didn't get used to was those little round foam thingies (that is the precise technical term for them--"foam thingies") which would always fall off and get lost or even stick inside my ear.

I stopped using them. That was the mistake.

Because what I didn't realize it that those foam thingies not only add a layer of comfort (a very, very thin layer to be sure) but were protecting me from direct contact with latex. Oh, yeah--those earbuds are made from latex. I did not know that. I suspected maybe a sensitivity to latex when I'd pull on a pair of rubber gloves to wash dishes and my nose would itch and I'd sneeze, but I had not realized that my earbuds might be the cause of my chronic dermatititis. I thought maybe the vinyl covering over the wires rubbing against my cheeks might have caused it, but actually it was the earbud itself. I found this article about latex allergies and it confirmed my suspicions.

So I bought a cheap pair of latex-free earbuds off the internet and, after FIVE years, it seems like the rash is finally clearing up!

Beware of latex!

derma e: Deep Clean and Detoxify

Knee-deep in the middle of summer which means: sun, sunscreen, sweat, oily skin, clogged pores--well, at least for me. I love summer, but there's something about being in the hot August sun that leaves me feeling a little gritty and grimy. I may not be able to beat the heat until autumn, but at least my skin no longer has to suffer; derma e has just added two new products specifically designed to deep clean and detoxify skin: Fruit Enzyme Facial Scrub and Cleansing Enzyme Mask.

I've been a fan of derma e's skin care and adore their eye treatments, but the latest additions to their extensive line of paraben-free, cruelty-free, 100% vegetarian products have me positively salivating. Partly because they smell soooo delicious! I swear I have to restrain myself from licking my fingers when I use either the scrub or the mask--the sweet, fruity smell is just yummy! I have a feeling, however, that the products probably don't taste nearly as good as they smell--but even better than how they smell is how well they work.

Both products combine fruit enzymes (papaya) with Dead Sea salts to help remove deeply ingrained impurities and dull aging cells from the skin’s surface. The scrub contains cornmeal and ground apricot seed shells in a rich cream infused with soothing chamomile. It left my skin feeling cleaner and smoother and is gentle enough to use daily. The mask combines sea kelp and green tea with bentonite and kaolin to deep clean pores and absorb excess skin oils. And boy, does it ever! It literally SUCKED the oil right out of my skin, leaving my pores much smaller and my skin looking fresh and clean.

The mask is a boon to oily-skinned gals, but even if your skin is dry I'd suggest swiping a bit over your T-zone or perhaps just to take care of the pores on your nose. It works so much better than those silly pore strips! And with no phthalates, sodium lauryl sulfates, petrolatum, mineral oil or artificial colors, these products don't just do a good job, they're good for your skin as well!

Pete Seeger: The Power of Song

At least once in during your childhood--maybe at camp or on the bus for a field trip or during music class in elementary school or if you were a member of chorus--you have sung a song either written or made popular by Pete Seeger. The iconic banjo-playing singing activist has been credited with the folk music revival of the 60s and inspiring artists like Joan Baez, Bob Dylan and even Bruce Springsteen. His story is told in a documentary which was produced by, among others, his grandson Kitama Jackson and another noted rabble-rouser, Norman Lear.

The documentary is a fairly perfunctory telling of the circumstances of Seeger's life: his musical roots (his father was a musicologist, his mother a concert violinist), his discovery of folk music, his schooling at Harvard, his leftist politics, his enduring marriage to Toshi-Aline Ohta, stints with the Almanac Singers and the Weavers, being blacklisted during the McCarthy era, etc. But what elevates it to a higher level is the music. Seeger was the writer or co-writer of classic songs like If I Had a Hammer, Where Have All the Flowers Gone?, Waist Deep in the Big Muddy and Turn, Turn, Turn, later covered and popularized by The Byrds. He popularized folk standards such as Michael Row the Boat Ashore, This Land is Your Land, This Little Light of Mine and most significantly, We Shall Overcome--which became the anthem for the Civil Rights movement.

His music became the soundtracks to the American Labor movement, Civil Rights protests, the Anti-War crusade and Environmentalist campaigns. A fervent activist with deeply held beliefs, Seeger refused to take the Fifth Amendment during House's hearings on Un-American Activities and instead invoked his First Amendment rights. He founded Clearwater, an organization dedicated to the clean up of the Hudson River. He has been honored with a Lifetime Achievement Grammy, Kennedy Center Lifetime Achievement Honor, National Medal of Arts and inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Most recently, he has led protests against the School of the Americas, dubbed the "School of Assassins" for having trained future human rights violators such as Manuel Noriega. (Coincidentally, the School of the Americas is located in Fort Benning, Georgia--my birthplace.)

In his eighties, Seeger is still outspoken, still active (he SKIS!) and an activist--and still singing. But more than his accomplishments as an activist and agent of change, or for his song writing or musicianship, Pete Seeger is renown not just as a singer, but as a song leader. His performances are not just passive appreciation of American folk music but an active participation and expression of song. Seeger invites his audience to join in and sing along, turning a concert into a near evangelical experience with his belief that we can create community and find our salvation in music.

A good song can only do good, and I am proud of the songs I have sung. - Pete Seeger

Pete Seeger: The Power of Song is available on DVD on August 5th.

Dexter - Season 1

Based on a series of novels by Jeff Lindsay, this series about a serial killer who is a cross between Jack the Ripper and Robin Hood has been airing on CBS where I caught the pilot episode and responded with a "meh." My friend Di raved about it at work and I told her I'd seen it on broadcast TV and she said, "Oh no, you have to see it on cable. It's not the same!" So, what was I missing? Explicitly gruesome murders? I can live with that. But in deference to Di's recommendation, I rented the first season from Netflix. It's summer, TV sucks, what else is there to do?

Dexter has a blood lust caused by an unspecified (early on in the series, anyway...) childhood trauma. Raised by an honorable cop who adopted him after finding the abandoned three year old at a crime scene, Dexter was taught to keep a low profile and channel his dark desires for good rather than evil. That is if your definition of "good" includes killing bad guys--other serial killers, pedophiles, etc.--chopping them up into small pieces, stuffing them into a Hefty bags (hmm--wondering...product placement? Nah!) and tossing them into the ocean.

Dexter lives by a code--a code instilled in him by his foster father, Harry. He works in forensics at the Miami Police Department specializing in blood spatter. Michael C. Hall, with his generically average good looks and hooded eyes, does a marvelous job as the deadpan Dexter. What's amazing about the show is not the darkness--which I love--or even the levity. But the humanity. Although Dexter does very bad things, the character is written and acted so well that the audience ends up rooting for him. And as he indulges in far more self-reflection than your average sociopath, we see Dexter is more than the monster that he believes himself to be. The story is all about the darkness we all hide, but the writers allow us to see glimmers of light in Dexter, while balancing that with exposing the shadows in the characters around him.

For example, Dexter's nemesis Lt. James Doakes (Erik King)--who thinks the blood spatter analyst might enjoy his job a wee bit too much--may have more in common with the murderous psychopath than both know. Didn't he perform what amounted to an execution of Haitian warlord in the name of justice from a judge and jury of one? And then again, there's the libidinous and power-hungry Lt. Laguerta (Lauren Vélez) who constantly hits on Dexter while blocking his sister Deb's (Jennifer Carpenter) attempts to get promoted. But we got to see a much softer side to Laguerta when a young Cuban refugee inspires her nurturing instinct. I particularly love Julie Benz as the meek and damaged Rita--the girlfriend who arouses Dexter's softer, protective side. In one scene where Rita sputters with rage over the machinations of her abusive ex-husband saying, "Fucking bastard!" in her kewpie voice, Dexter responds, "Only you could make that cute." And so she does. As Dexter witnesses the conflicting facets of his peers' personalities and the masks they also wear to hide from others he not only earns our empathy, but in fact EVOLVES.

The initial episodes keep flashing back to give us Dexter's backstory. This was a bit of a turn-off for me--the character was intriguing enough on his own that I really didn't need to know how or why he came to be that way. But then the backstory got woven into the current events, making it more valuable and interesting. And finally, Dexter's past caught up with him in a big way by the end of the season--it was a complete shock to me. Although I had fingered (No pun intended!) the Ice Truck killer the moment the character appeared on screen, the rest of the twist left me surprised. I was on the edge of my seat (technically, the edge of my bed...) by the end of season one's episodes. But Dexter prevails to slice another day:

Rita: I got your message. How's Debra?
Dexter: Hmm, she has all her limbs.
Rita: Thank God she is alive. That poor thing must be a mess, falling for a serial killer.
Dexter: What are the odds?

But Doakes is more suspicious than ever and is watching Dexter...

I've already added Season Two to my Netflix queue...

Killing time with the Keywords

For the dozens of searchers who end up at my blog NOT for the pics of my tattoos, sometimes the journey is fruitless. This is my attempt to rectify that.

Movies

1. You Don't Mess with the Zohan opening disco song?

Thanks to Yahoo Answers and Reel Soundtrack, I got the entire list of songs used in the movie. The song in question is Ma Sheba Ba by HaDag Nachash.

2. The Life Before Her Eyes - who understood it?

Hmm--apparently not you. It's not that difficult. Without too many spoilers, let's take a look at the title which recalls the concept of one's life flashing before one's eyes in a near death experience. Take away the "near" part and add a @#$%load of pro-life propaganda and heavy-handed symbolism and you've got it.

3. Are they making a movie of The Corrections?

Eventually. Producer Scott Rudin optioned the rights in 2001. In 2002 it was allegedly in pre-production with Stephen Daldry attached to direct. In 2005, Robert Zemeckis apparently replaced Daldry and is working on developing David Hare's script. As of 2007, he was still working on it. IMBD lists 2009 as the release year--but if that's the case, they'd better get cracking!

4. Where did the story for The Happening come from?

From M. Night Shyamalan's twisted brain. There was an interesting interview about the process in USA Today a while back. Check it out!

5. Thelma from Scooby Doo movie actress?

Actually the character's name was "Velma" (Don't feel bad--I thought it was Thelma, too!) and she was played by Linda Cardellini (Freaks and Geeks).

TV

1. I rented Entourage: Season 1 - only got 1 DVD.

That sounds about right. Season 1 only consisted of eight half-hour episodes. That's four hours total. That could fit on one DVD.

2. Series with Gabrielle Union where she plays a mental patient?

That sounds like her stint on Ugly Betty where she played Wilhelmina's bipolar sister Renee who went whacko when Willie switches her medication with fat blocker pills.

3. Danielle tells Bree she's pregnant?

Aha, a Desperate Housewives question. If I recall correctly, Danielle told ORSON she was pregnant and I believe Orson broke the bad news to Bree. But it all happened off-screen between seasons four and five, so I can't really say for sure...

4. My Name is Earl, Season 3, episode 22, Greta Camdenite?

A lot of people wanted to know who the hottie who played the innocent Greta was after the season finale aired. Unfortunately it's taken a while for IMDB to be updated with the credits for that episode, but the actress is Deborah Ann Woll and she's also had bit parts on CSI and E.R.

5. What's the song called that they sang to Earl in the episode I Won't Die with a Little Help from my Friends?

That was a very off-key rendition of Blue Oyster Cult's Burnin' for You.

6. Michelle Obama and Maksim Chmerkovsky?

Okay, I think it's about time for Chris Crocker to do a "Leave Michelle Alone!" YouTube video...Sheesh! Unless the questioner was wondering if the potential future first lady was going to be appearing on next season's Dancing with the Stars. In which case, I'm fairly positive the answer is "No." Don't count Hillary out, though!

Random

1. I just got hired at the Gap clothing store. What do I wear?

Uh, clothes from the Gap clothing store?

2. How to celebrate birthday for above 55 years of age?

I'm not there yet, but I don't care how old someone is--you're never too old for birthday cake and presents! Pin the Tail on the Donkey or Musical Chairs, perhaps. But there must always be CAKE!

3. What is the average age of men who wear socks with sandals?

Chronologically or mentally? Because only an idiot with the fashion sense of a five year-old would wear SOCKS with SANDALS! The very purpose of sandals is the let your toes breathe!

4. Why do we clean gym equipment after use?

Because it's the polite thing to do to not leave residue from your stinky, slimy, sweaty body for others to clean up after! And for those of you who think you never sweat, trust me--you do. Wipe down the machine with a towel after you use it! (P.S. Yes, this is why your fellow gym rats roll their eyes and shake their heads in disgust as you walk by!)

5. Sweat after workout bad?

Nope. Sweat is good--after a workout, during the workout. Just not left behind on the workout equipment!

6. Hooray for the red, white and blue lyrics?

I don't think there's a song with Hooray for the red, white and blue! as lyrics other than a Looney Tunes song called Draftee Daffy. But the lyrics for You're a Grand Old Flag come close:

You're a grand old flag,
You're a high flying flag
And forever in peace may you wave.
You're the emblem of
The land I love.
The home of the free and the brave.
Ev'ry heart beats true
'neath the Red, White and Blue,
Where there's never a boast or brag.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Keep your eye on the grand old flag.

7. All sorts of Speedo related searches:

"Speedo fashion advice" - Just say "No."

"Men wearing white Speedos" - Ew, ew, EW!!!

"Shirt tucked into Speedos" - Is that even POSSIBLE?!!! Good grief, people--some of you are clearly beyond help!

"Speedo rabies vaccine" - I can't even begin to figure this one out. Unless there is a new vaccination that prevents males from indulging in the madness that is ill-advisedly wearing a Speedo...

8. And then the much maligned profession of Dental Hygienist: slutty dental hygienist, topless dental hygienist, affair with dental hygienist

Really, really random!

"Forehead of a whore," "Cancer rising transgender," "can pant devil steal items from closet neopets," "stability of the Monroeville Mall," "housewives dressed in leather," "favorite no," "amc theatres gluten popcorn" and finally "wall above average."

Don't know anything about "wall above average"--but I certainly know "WELL above average!"