Working at The Happiest Place in the Mall affords me the chance to sometimes see people I haven't seen in years. I have seen many of my college mates come through the doors, each looking for some magic, and a few from elsewhere (including a run in with Shay Oliver, to which I had to apologize for the visit). Tonight? Beth Edison came through the doors. Haven't seen her in about, I dunno, 17 years? She still looks the same, just a few years older.
We also had a prom group come through tonight, and that gave me a great idea for a post later... prom nights. Four proms, three dates, many stories. But that's later. For now, here's the end of my daylong visit to Samson, Alabama. This actually appears on pages 9 thru 12 of the original document I wrote it on, which is why I had to break it up into four parts. Its been a fun column to write, though. Anyway, here's the previous posts, then the finale....
Samson Blog Part I: "...Knee High to a Puddle Duck"
Samson Blog Part II: Tammy Ward & the Library Books
Samson Blog Part III: High School Highs... and Lows
PART IV... MEMORIES ON HIGHWAY 52
At 7:30, I turned onto Highway 52, and headed out of Samson, toward Geneva, back from the direction I had already come. I had told Sandy Wright hours earlier that I would stop by her parent’s house and say hello, so when I came upon their county road, I turned right. It was paved, but only slightly… the Wright home is a house I’d been to many, many times as a teenager, both visiting and working. Sometimes I would just hang out with Cristie, other times I would help Forrest paint or clean or whatever, and he paid well. The restaurant closed some years after I started college, but the Wrights own a florist & gift shop in Geneva, and he does, or at least did at one point, sell fencing and siding.
So when I came to the Wright home, imagine my surprise when I couldn’t get in. They have a long white fence that wraps around the property, with a small driveway that I parked in. There was a gate. An immovable gate that I had no clue how to approach. Granted, I could have easily ducked between the wide spaces in the fencing, but the last time I was here, they had a couple of Dalmatians that were the size of Toni Rocky Honda, so I stood for a few minutes, staring at the house. Do I honk the horn? Do I duck under the fence and make a run for it, hoping the Spawn of Spotted Dog doesn’t chase me down and maul me? What do I do? It’s about 7:50 now, the light is fading, so who knows if they even recognize me?
Finally, I decided I would just leave a note. I grabbed a Sharpie, cause you know I lurves me some Sharpies and Toni Rocki Honda contains about 30, and scribbled down:
Forrest & Charlotte
Stopped by to see you both. Didn’t know how to enter the Wright Fortress. Hope you are well, hope to see you soon.
d$
I wheeled Toni Rocki Honda to their mailbox, opened it, put my note in, and left. There was one more stop to make, really, in my Samson excursion… Wal-Mart, though it was actually in Geneva. My purpose was singular… I wanted to walk the store front to back, side to side, and count the paces. Then I wanted to compare it with the Wal-Mart down the street from The Cabana on 280. Back to front, the Geneva Wal-Mart was 73 paces. Side to side, its 103. I’m not joking. And the Wal-Mart closes, which in a city that has about six of them within a fifteen mile radius that stay open 24-7, is unfathomable.
Finally, it was time to go. Through Geneva, back through Enterprise and up to Troy, where I made a quick stop at the FarmHouse Fraternity house to drop off a paddle that was given to me years and years ago by my big brother there… it was time the paddle found a home in the house. Met some of the guys, watched a few minutes of the NCAA championship game, shook some hands and then I was out.
My last stop before home was in Prattville at Steak-n-Shake… I wasn’t even that hungry, having eaten hours before, but I got a small burger, fries and a milkshake… because its Steak-n-Shake, and I never get a chance to go there. Truly, I miss Denny’s, but I do love some SNS.
My day in Samson was wonderful, not made so by any particular part of it, but by the combination of well wishes, familiar faces and throwbacks to days when it was so simple. I think everyone thinks to themselves how they would do it if they could go back, knowing now what you know. I would think I’d be the coolest guy in school, because honestly I wouldn’t care. Lord knows I’d have better fashion sense, and I’d probably have a change of clothes in my locker to put on as soon as I got to school.
As simple as it seems, though, I am truly blessed to be sitting here in front of my laptop, sitting on a wooden TV tray, which is sitting on an expensive designer rug, sprawled out in front of our leather couches, in a living room directly under the bedroom where the most wonderful, beautiful woman I’ve ever known is sleeping peacefully. All of this is in The Cabana, our house we bought last year, sitting close to a major highway in our town, which means we’re close to everything, including both jobs that we possess and love.
I do have a new found love for my hometown of Samson, and one day, maybe in a few decades, though still probably never, I might go back. Maybe with The Lovely Steph Leann in 2020, maybe as a widower in 2061. And I do have a love for the people I left behind, be it Chris McCall or my other two Samson BFFs Tonya and Greg, and friends like Jason Howell (who I’m dying to spend some more time with) and Rona Mock and her husband Ryan (who I’m going to call for dinner in the next two weeks) and especially my mom, who will most certainly die in this town, probably in the next few years. I’ve already decided I’m going to make it a more frequent trip, perhaps once every two months, maybe once per month during football season…
..but in all my remembering where I come from, I’ll be careful not to forget where I am now. And where I am right now is the most blessed place I could be. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna click this laptop off and go upstairs and sleep next to The Lovely Steph Leann.
(one more authors note... when I finish and publish a post, which usually takes me forever, as The Lovely Steph Leann can attest, I read it on the actual website itself, usually to make sure it flows and posts correctly, is spaced correctly, et al. Tonight as I did this for Part IV, my website playlist played "When I Get Where I'm Going" by Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton. I thought it was kinda cool. Course, if this were 1993, "You Don't Bring Me Anything But Down" might've sufficed for my dinner guest. Ha!!)
Thanks for reading.
Showing posts with label Jennifer Herndon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jennifer Herndon. Show all posts
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Samson Blog Part III: High School Highs... and Lows
Thanks for coming back--I've already stopped off in Troy, visited Jennifer, run into a few old faces that I recognized and now its time to run into another, and re-visit the school that taught me how to... well, do whatever it is that high schools teach. Previous posts include...
Samson Blog Part I: "...Knee High to a Puddle Duck"
Samson Blog Part II: Tammy Ward & the Library Books
PART III... HIGH SCHOOL HIGHS.. and lows
The brick sign that wasn't there when I was there
Back when I was in school, there was a middle school and a high school, though the lines between the two were very blurred. The building on the south part of the school was primarily junior high (at what point did they stop being called junior high and start only going as “middle school”? Is “junior high” a bad thing? Really?) leaving the north part as the high school, but the ball field was shared by both, the small business building in the middle was shared by both, the recess yard was shared by both…. Really, it was all one big school, 6th grade through 12th. Maybe 600 students. Might be more, might be less.
Some number of years ago, though, they built a new Middle School and placed it next to Samson Elementary, which was building in 1984. I only know this because I moved there in 4th grade, and it was just opened the previous month. We couldn’t lean on the walls, it was so new. Imagine telling a bunch of 9 year olds you can’t lean on the walls. Right.
With the middle school gone, Samson High School truly is just a high school. As I walked onto Broad Street, I noticed that a couple of the buildings where there, and a few were now gone… I can only guess they were gutted and torn down, probably a good thing. I walked onto the sidewalk that runs in front of the entire school, walking slowly to observe. Another teacher had just come out of one of the buildings, and said, “Can I help you with something?” I smiled and said, “No, thanks. I’m an alumnus, and I’m just checking out the school.” I added with a grin, “I thought it best to wait until all the students were out, so as not to be that creepy guy wandering around the campus.” She smiled and said, “Good idea.”
I stopped in front of the Samson High sign to snap a few pictures, and noticed a familiar face up ahead. She was with a young boy, and she moved between a furniture delivery truck and another group of people. I slowly made my way past the group, snapping more photos of the surrounding school monuments and scenery, but kept glancing up at her. Is that…? I mean, could that be…?
She said something to the group, they all chuckled, and she led the boy inside the school doors. I followed her, but when I went inside, she had already disappeared into the next set of double doors. Another teacher was there, looked up and asked, “Can I help you, sir?” I stopped, not taking my eyes off of the door, pointed and said, “Was that Renee?” She smiled and said, “Yes! Go through these doors and take a right. Mrs. Adams is on the left, you’ll see her door.”
Mrs. Adams? I thanked the kind lady and went through the doors. The school, for all its differences, still had the same look in the hallway. The floor was different, the lockers were bigger, the paint was newer, but this… this was Samson High School. I walked toward the first door, and saw the placard that said “Mrs. R. ADAMS”. I stared at the door for a minute, and then thought, “Holy crap, she’s a teacher.”
“So, uh, you got your name on the door and everything, huh? Think your somebody?” I asked, as I stood in the doorway, pointing toward the sign. Renee Carroll looked up from her desk, glared at me for a few seconds, then her face brightened. “Oh my gosh… d$!” she stood up, ran over to me and gave me a big hug.
Renee Carroll and I go way back, to… 1991? She was an 8th grader, I was a senior, and her step-father, Steve, worked as an excellent cook at The Wright Place Restaurant. Her mom, Carlene, also worked there for a time, and Renee washed dishes and helped out too. She had a crush on me. I don’t say that in vain, or in an arrogant assumption, I say that because she told me so. And as gently as I could, I told her I wasn’t interested in her. She didn’t talk to me for a month. I also remember she was obsessed with country group Alabama.
She looked great, her son Ryan is now 7 (or was it 9?), and she’s a teacher now at Samson High School. She has been teaching there for a while now, teaching all subjects to all grades at this point. Renee told me that there were plans for a memorial garden to be built behind the main school building, right outside her window, in honor of the victims of March 10th. We chatted a while longer, what I’d been up to, teachers that had come and gone (Mrs. Hutchison is retiring, it seems!) and who was still there. Mrs. Danley was still there. A few others had gone. Some had died.
We discussed Samson, how it was different, how it was the same, and Renee said the most amazing thing was that when she came back to teach, she went into the lunchroom… and it was so small! “I remember it being so much bigger, and now, it’s like, tiny. It was bizarre.”
It was great talking to her for a little while, and finally, we said our goodbyes. Who knows if and when I’ll see Renee Carroll Adams again? Hopefully soon.
I left the classroom, and as I rounded the corner, I locked eyes with Mrs. Danley. On her face was the now-familiar “Is that…?” expression, but I didn’t stop. I smiled and kept walking, right on out the back door of the main building, finding myself in front of the lunchroom. And as I peered into the window (it was locked), I could see a few new additions, notably a big cooler that said “DASANI” on it. But the big tiger painted on the wall was still there. And Renee was right… it was tiny. Did I really sit and have milk carton drink-offs with Chad Ward and Greg Avant right there? Unbelievably so. And there, on the opposite outside door of the lunchroom is the area that the freshman girls congregated—Chris McCall’s obsession Andrea Foreman, my first slow dance ever Angiejay (in this very lunchroom, by the way, but more on her in a minute), Manda Donaldson, Jennifer Herndon (yes, that one) and Stephanie Sheffield.
That slow dance was weird. It was, in fact, with Angiejay, who agreed to be my homecoming dance date, then bowed out because word spread all over school that we were going out. We danced to “Wanted” by Alan Jackson, and looking back, I think she did so because she felt obliged to do so, not because she wanted to. We were dancing close to Ryan Frary and Stephanie Sheffield, who were going out at the time, and Ryan leaned over and yanked my hand down to Angiejay’s bum. Luckily, I yanked it back in time to save the embarrassment, and though Stephanie smacked him, Ryan thought it was hilarious. Looking back, I do too.
Laughing to myself as I remember this monumental moment, I went down the sidewalk through the campus, passing the gymnasium, home of the 2 time defending girl’s basketball team, the Lady Tigers. The further I walk, though, the more I realize that yes, there is a new high school building… but most everything else on the grounds is exactly the same. I walk between the science building, where Mr. Holmes tried in vain to teach me Physics and Chemistry, and the Ag/Home Ec building, where I won top grade prizes for like, four straight terms…. In Home Ec, not Ag.
I stopped at the bandroom, and boy those memories came back as well. Renee told me that the last time the band was really, really strong was when we were in school. When I was a sophomore, we were 70+ strong, 6th through 12th grade, but over the years, the band has dwindled. It’s had it shares of highs and lows, but right now it was at a low point. Sad, really. The Blue and Gold rocked back in the day.
It was on those railings on the sidewalk leading to the door on the right that, in October of 1992, I waited outside for Angiejay, after the Homecoming Ballgame. She said already said yes a few nights ago. Then she sent someone (Tracy Lassiter?) out to tell me that "she would just meet me there". I was crushed. Am I still bitter? Not at all, it was 17 years ago, but its still fun to talk about. And the fact she rejected me on Facebook last year makes it all the more fun. Hence, the decision to make Angie Jay a villian in the book. Ha!
The tennis courts sat across the street. Samson was always too small to have a tennis team, but we did have courts. During my sophomore year, I became infatuated with Jennifer Capriati, a young tennis star, so I bought myself a 18 dollar racket (a huge sum when you are 15) and taught myself how to play tennis. Over the course of that year, I lost about 30 pounds, gained much leg strength and went through two pairs of tennis shoes—wore a hole slap into the soles of them. See, our court wasn’t grass, or clay or even a regular hard court, our court was asphalt and gravel. And there was a big sand pit right in the middle that you would slide through if you weren’t careful. The back fence was about four feet from the back baseline, so there was lots of slamming into the chain links, and the net was such that you had to hook it back onto the posts when you played. Sometimes the ball would go through the gap between the netting and the white border, so you had to argue over whether it was actually a Let or not. (you can read more of this, and some of the same, in a post from June 2006 called "Game Set Match", if you feel so inclined)
By my junior year, there were lots of people playing. I’d like to think I was at least partly responsible for the tennis resurgence from 1991 to 1993. Names like Ryan Hutchison, Juice Williams, Jason Lambert, Wade Rials, Bren Finch, and of course, Ryan Frary and myself—the Federer and Nadal of our day. For two years, we were gods of the court. Every single day, until the light was gone, and even then sometimes into the night, using the one single yellow light that shone on half the court. The summer between my junior and senior year, I collected $5 from 16 court regulars, bought some paint, went out in the hot July sun and painted lines on the court. Then we had ourselves a tennis tournament. And it was a beautiful thing.
You can barely see the yellow of the lines that were painted all those years ago. Some of the weeds might be the exact same, though. But this is the court we played on.
Now? The lines are faded away. The dirt is piled high in various parts of the court, the fence has bigger holes in it than before, the weeds grow tall through the asphalt, the post has an old plastic cup on top of it, and the net is nowhere to be found. Doesn’t matter, though, because where the net would go is taken up by a big greenhouse nursery sitting smack in the middle of the court. A messily handwritten note on the door of the greenhouse said, “If you need plants, call…”
The abomination that sits on our courts. Ryan (can't remember if it was Frary or Hutchison) and I actually scheduled a meeting and went to the mayor, asking for the council to look at devoting some money to renovate the tennis courts. There were only three courts and a few thousand tax dollars would be all that was needed to put up new nets, fix the light(s) and give it a light touch-up. They rejected us out of hand.
Sighing, and a piece of my soul now dead on that court with the knowledge that there would probably never be another Snuff City Invitational Tennis Classic, I walked back to the campus, and entered the football stadium. It was here on this very field that I graduated high school, coming now upon 16 years ago. They put in metal bleachers sometime around my junior year, maybe a year earlier, but that’s just for the home side. The visitors still have the old concrete bleachers, and they still look exactly the same.
I walk around the football field, past the concession stand that sits boarded up for the offseason, and just take it all in. Lots of memories here too. Marching saxophone in the band, chomping on stadium burgers and $1 M&M bags, sitting with Jason Howell and ALL of the guys admired Claudia Sorrells was in her majorette uniform, enjoying those late October/ early November Friday nights when the temperature is around 45 degrees… is there anything better than high school football in cold temperatures? Sipping on watered down hot chocolate that burns your tongue?
The grass is about six inches too high now, this being the offseason and daily care not necessary. Its Alva Hawke Stadium, though I have yet to figure out who Alva Hawke is. And I still don’t know the alma mater song, though I can reel off that fight song. Or could, at one time. There is a ton of junk piled under the bleachers—stadium lights, wood, trash, a small hauling trailer—and it just looks messy. I smile as I stand next to the chain link fence, a fence that 16 years ago I stood next to, wearing a hot blue uniform with a poofy feather thing jutting out of my hat, holding an alto saxophone, joking with Jason Howell and Kelli White, close to Chris McCall who kept stealing glances at Andrea Foreman, all while I was stealing glances at majorettes, while Jason stole glances--who am I kidding, he just plain stared--at Kelli White, all of us awaiting marching orders from drum major Tonya Windham, and wondering if I would actually keep in step this time around, and knowing the answer would be, probably not. But that’s okay. We marched on.
I haven’t picked up an alto saxophone in at least five years, and then it was only once. Before that, it was high school band. I've thought about picking it up again, memories of Kenny G songs still flowing through me head... I could actually play "Songbird" at one time. But, alas, I've also thought about learning how to play the mandolin I've owned for 8 years, and that hasn't happened either...
I stared out into the football field a while longer, making verbal notes into my voice recorder, discussing my own characters that are dancing around in my head and how a football field might come into play when Peter and Barrow are discussing what to do for homecoming. But that’s later, I think. I decided it was time to go, enough nostalgia for one day had been accomplished.
I walk back down the same sidewalk, pausing for a moment from talking into my voice recorder as an older gentlemen walked by. No sense in sounding stupid. Er. I make another walk around the school, out onto the front lawn and back down Broad, then Farmer Street. A few blocks later, I was back in my own home, sitting and talking with my dear mother again.
She’s addicted to judge shows…. She doesn’t care for Judge Judy, but Judge Judy comes on between Judge Joe Brown and some other judge, so she doesn’t bother to change the channel, she just sits and complains about how much she doesn’t like Judge Judy. Love my mom.
It's around 4pm, and I'm getting hungry. I've got an hour before dinner, though, one that should be fun. I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friends, and shake their hands. I hope the Pea River is as blueish green as it has been in my dreams.
I hope.
And finally, the last part of The Samson Blog... Memories in a BBQ Dive
Samson Blog Part I: "...Knee High to a Puddle Duck"
Samson Blog Part II: Tammy Ward & the Library Books
PART III... HIGH SCHOOL HIGHS.. and lows
The brick sign that wasn't there when I was there
Back when I was in school, there was a middle school and a high school, though the lines between the two were very blurred. The building on the south part of the school was primarily junior high (at what point did they stop being called junior high and start only going as “middle school”? Is “junior high” a bad thing? Really?) leaving the north part as the high school, but the ball field was shared by both, the small business building in the middle was shared by both, the recess yard was shared by both…. Really, it was all one big school, 6th grade through 12th. Maybe 600 students. Might be more, might be less.
Some number of years ago, though, they built a new Middle School and placed it next to Samson Elementary, which was building in 1984. I only know this because I moved there in 4th grade, and it was just opened the previous month. We couldn’t lean on the walls, it was so new. Imagine telling a bunch of 9 year olds you can’t lean on the walls. Right.
With the middle school gone, Samson High School truly is just a high school. As I walked onto Broad Street, I noticed that a couple of the buildings where there, and a few were now gone… I can only guess they were gutted and torn down, probably a good thing. I walked onto the sidewalk that runs in front of the entire school, walking slowly to observe. Another teacher had just come out of one of the buildings, and said, “Can I help you with something?” I smiled and said, “No, thanks. I’m an alumnus, and I’m just checking out the school.” I added with a grin, “I thought it best to wait until all the students were out, so as not to be that creepy guy wandering around the campus.” She smiled and said, “Good idea.”
I stopped in front of the Samson High sign to snap a few pictures, and noticed a familiar face up ahead. She was with a young boy, and she moved between a furniture delivery truck and another group of people. I slowly made my way past the group, snapping more photos of the surrounding school monuments and scenery, but kept glancing up at her. Is that…? I mean, could that be…?
She said something to the group, they all chuckled, and she led the boy inside the school doors. I followed her, but when I went inside, she had already disappeared into the next set of double doors. Another teacher was there, looked up and asked, “Can I help you, sir?” I stopped, not taking my eyes off of the door, pointed and said, “Was that Renee?” She smiled and said, “Yes! Go through these doors and take a right. Mrs. Adams is on the left, you’ll see her door.”
Mrs. Adams? I thanked the kind lady and went through the doors. The school, for all its differences, still had the same look in the hallway. The floor was different, the lockers were bigger, the paint was newer, but this… this was Samson High School. I walked toward the first door, and saw the placard that said “Mrs. R. ADAMS”. I stared at the door for a minute, and then thought, “Holy crap, she’s a teacher.”
“So, uh, you got your name on the door and everything, huh? Think your somebody?” I asked, as I stood in the doorway, pointing toward the sign. Renee Carroll looked up from her desk, glared at me for a few seconds, then her face brightened. “Oh my gosh… d$!” she stood up, ran over to me and gave me a big hug.
Renee Carroll and I go way back, to… 1991? She was an 8th grader, I was a senior, and her step-father, Steve, worked as an excellent cook at The Wright Place Restaurant. Her mom, Carlene, also worked there for a time, and Renee washed dishes and helped out too. She had a crush on me. I don’t say that in vain, or in an arrogant assumption, I say that because she told me so. And as gently as I could, I told her I wasn’t interested in her. She didn’t talk to me for a month. I also remember she was obsessed with country group Alabama.
She looked great, her son Ryan is now 7 (or was it 9?), and she’s a teacher now at Samson High School. She has been teaching there for a while now, teaching all subjects to all grades at this point. Renee told me that there were plans for a memorial garden to be built behind the main school building, right outside her window, in honor of the victims of March 10th. We chatted a while longer, what I’d been up to, teachers that had come and gone (Mrs. Hutchison is retiring, it seems!) and who was still there. Mrs. Danley was still there. A few others had gone. Some had died.
We discussed Samson, how it was different, how it was the same, and Renee said the most amazing thing was that when she came back to teach, she went into the lunchroom… and it was so small! “I remember it being so much bigger, and now, it’s like, tiny. It was bizarre.”
It was great talking to her for a little while, and finally, we said our goodbyes. Who knows if and when I’ll see Renee Carroll Adams again? Hopefully soon.
I left the classroom, and as I rounded the corner, I locked eyes with Mrs. Danley. On her face was the now-familiar “Is that…?” expression, but I didn’t stop. I smiled and kept walking, right on out the back door of the main building, finding myself in front of the lunchroom. And as I peered into the window (it was locked), I could see a few new additions, notably a big cooler that said “DASANI” on it. But the big tiger painted on the wall was still there. And Renee was right… it was tiny. Did I really sit and have milk carton drink-offs with Chad Ward and Greg Avant right there? Unbelievably so. And there, on the opposite outside door of the lunchroom is the area that the freshman girls congregated—Chris McCall’s obsession Andrea Foreman, my first slow dance ever Angiejay (in this very lunchroom, by the way, but more on her in a minute), Manda Donaldson, Jennifer Herndon (yes, that one) and Stephanie Sheffield.
That slow dance was weird. It was, in fact, with Angiejay, who agreed to be my homecoming dance date, then bowed out because word spread all over school that we were going out. We danced to “Wanted” by Alan Jackson, and looking back, I think she did so because she felt obliged to do so, not because she wanted to. We were dancing close to Ryan Frary and Stephanie Sheffield, who were going out at the time, and Ryan leaned over and yanked my hand down to Angiejay’s bum. Luckily, I yanked it back in time to save the embarrassment, and though Stephanie smacked him, Ryan thought it was hilarious. Looking back, I do too.
Laughing to myself as I remember this monumental moment, I went down the sidewalk through the campus, passing the gymnasium, home of the 2 time defending girl’s basketball team, the Lady Tigers. The further I walk, though, the more I realize that yes, there is a new high school building… but most everything else on the grounds is exactly the same. I walk between the science building, where Mr. Holmes tried in vain to teach me Physics and Chemistry, and the Ag/Home Ec building, where I won top grade prizes for like, four straight terms…. In Home Ec, not Ag.
I stopped at the bandroom, and boy those memories came back as well. Renee told me that the last time the band was really, really strong was when we were in school. When I was a sophomore, we were 70+ strong, 6th through 12th grade, but over the years, the band has dwindled. It’s had it shares of highs and lows, but right now it was at a low point. Sad, really. The Blue and Gold rocked back in the day.
It was on those railings on the sidewalk leading to the door on the right that, in October of 1992, I waited outside for Angiejay, after the Homecoming Ballgame. She said already said yes a few nights ago. Then she sent someone (Tracy Lassiter?) out to tell me that "she would just meet me there". I was crushed. Am I still bitter? Not at all, it was 17 years ago, but its still fun to talk about. And the fact she rejected me on Facebook last year makes it all the more fun. Hence, the decision to make Angie Jay a villian in the book. Ha!
The tennis courts sat across the street. Samson was always too small to have a tennis team, but we did have courts. During my sophomore year, I became infatuated with Jennifer Capriati, a young tennis star, so I bought myself a 18 dollar racket (a huge sum when you are 15) and taught myself how to play tennis. Over the course of that year, I lost about 30 pounds, gained much leg strength and went through two pairs of tennis shoes—wore a hole slap into the soles of them. See, our court wasn’t grass, or clay or even a regular hard court, our court was asphalt and gravel. And there was a big sand pit right in the middle that you would slide through if you weren’t careful. The back fence was about four feet from the back baseline, so there was lots of slamming into the chain links, and the net was such that you had to hook it back onto the posts when you played. Sometimes the ball would go through the gap between the netting and the white border, so you had to argue over whether it was actually a Let or not. (you can read more of this, and some of the same, in a post from June 2006 called "Game Set Match", if you feel so inclined)
By my junior year, there were lots of people playing. I’d like to think I was at least partly responsible for the tennis resurgence from 1991 to 1993. Names like Ryan Hutchison, Juice Williams, Jason Lambert, Wade Rials, Bren Finch, and of course, Ryan Frary and myself—the Federer and Nadal of our day. For two years, we were gods of the court. Every single day, until the light was gone, and even then sometimes into the night, using the one single yellow light that shone on half the court. The summer between my junior and senior year, I collected $5 from 16 court regulars, bought some paint, went out in the hot July sun and painted lines on the court. Then we had ourselves a tennis tournament. And it was a beautiful thing.
You can barely see the yellow of the lines that were painted all those years ago. Some of the weeds might be the exact same, though. But this is the court we played on.
Now? The lines are faded away. The dirt is piled high in various parts of the court, the fence has bigger holes in it than before, the weeds grow tall through the asphalt, the post has an old plastic cup on top of it, and the net is nowhere to be found. Doesn’t matter, though, because where the net would go is taken up by a big greenhouse nursery sitting smack in the middle of the court. A messily handwritten note on the door of the greenhouse said, “If you need plants, call…”
The abomination that sits on our courts. Ryan (can't remember if it was Frary or Hutchison) and I actually scheduled a meeting and went to the mayor, asking for the council to look at devoting some money to renovate the tennis courts. There were only three courts and a few thousand tax dollars would be all that was needed to put up new nets, fix the light(s) and give it a light touch-up. They rejected us out of hand.
Sighing, and a piece of my soul now dead on that court with the knowledge that there would probably never be another Snuff City Invitational Tennis Classic, I walked back to the campus, and entered the football stadium. It was here on this very field that I graduated high school, coming now upon 16 years ago. They put in metal bleachers sometime around my junior year, maybe a year earlier, but that’s just for the home side. The visitors still have the old concrete bleachers, and they still look exactly the same.
I walk around the football field, past the concession stand that sits boarded up for the offseason, and just take it all in. Lots of memories here too. Marching saxophone in the band, chomping on stadium burgers and $1 M&M bags, sitting with Jason Howell and ALL of the guys admired Claudia Sorrells was in her majorette uniform, enjoying those late October/ early November Friday nights when the temperature is around 45 degrees… is there anything better than high school football in cold temperatures? Sipping on watered down hot chocolate that burns your tongue?
The grass is about six inches too high now, this being the offseason and daily care not necessary. Its Alva Hawke Stadium, though I have yet to figure out who Alva Hawke is. And I still don’t know the alma mater song, though I can reel off that fight song. Or could, at one time. There is a ton of junk piled under the bleachers—stadium lights, wood, trash, a small hauling trailer—and it just looks messy. I smile as I stand next to the chain link fence, a fence that 16 years ago I stood next to, wearing a hot blue uniform with a poofy feather thing jutting out of my hat, holding an alto saxophone, joking with Jason Howell and Kelli White, close to Chris McCall who kept stealing glances at Andrea Foreman, all while I was stealing glances at majorettes, while Jason stole glances--who am I kidding, he just plain stared--at Kelli White, all of us awaiting marching orders from drum major Tonya Windham, and wondering if I would actually keep in step this time around, and knowing the answer would be, probably not. But that’s okay. We marched on.
I haven’t picked up an alto saxophone in at least five years, and then it was only once. Before that, it was high school band. I've thought about picking it up again, memories of Kenny G songs still flowing through me head... I could actually play "Songbird" at one time. But, alas, I've also thought about learning how to play the mandolin I've owned for 8 years, and that hasn't happened either...
I stared out into the football field a while longer, making verbal notes into my voice recorder, discussing my own characters that are dancing around in my head and how a football field might come into play when Peter and Barrow are discussing what to do for homecoming. But that’s later, I think. I decided it was time to go, enough nostalgia for one day had been accomplished.
I walk back down the same sidewalk, pausing for a moment from talking into my voice recorder as an older gentlemen walked by. No sense in sounding stupid. Er. I make another walk around the school, out onto the front lawn and back down Broad, then Farmer Street. A few blocks later, I was back in my own home, sitting and talking with my dear mother again.
She’s addicted to judge shows…. She doesn’t care for Judge Judy, but Judge Judy comes on between Judge Joe Brown and some other judge, so she doesn’t bother to change the channel, she just sits and complains about how much she doesn’t like Judge Judy. Love my mom.
It's around 4pm, and I'm getting hungry. I've got an hour before dinner, though, one that should be fun. I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friends, and shake their hands. I hope the Pea River is as blueish green as it has been in my dreams.
I hope.
And finally, the last part of The Samson Blog... Memories in a BBQ Dive
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Adieu, Libby Lu (and other stuff before I go)
Because I just feel like I've blogged about nothing other than American Idol and 2008's Coolest Stuff, I thought I'd leave you a real blog this time around... when I say "leave you", I mean that on Friday, I'm taking The Lovely Steph Leann to The Happiest Place on Earth for an 8 day adventure...
If you are wanting Wednesday night's Idol in Hollyweird, then scroll down to the same post as Tuesday night, where I continue the fun. If you missed the Super Bowl, the running diary blog is here.
So I figure I'd send some random thoughts your way...
The Super Bowl was A Number 1 awesome. I mean, it was just incredible... one of the best Super Bowls I've ever seen--much better than last year, by the way, only because last year was so disappointing. I really wanted the Patriots to win the game, not only because I wanted to see an undefeated season in my lifetime, but also because they truly were the better team--just not that one night.
The Steelers should have won the game, but Arizona made them earn it. Yes, I think that last play might have been an incomplete pass and not a fumble, but at the same time, the Cardinals made some really stupid penalties that cost them mucho. Anyway, excellent game.
Random Kellie Pickler music video. Its from her second CD, "Kellie Pickler", which I have listened to several times in the last few weeks, and really like.
I love me some Pickles. Totally Ashley Judd Club.
Made mention of my friend Erin the Marine Wife, and she finally has her website up and running. Its called "Many Kind Regards", and I wanted to give her a plug for it. Go check it out, her perspective from the military family side, especially with a husband who's frequently at war, is great. I'll be adding the link on "d$'s Recommended Blogs" on the right side, so you can check it out.
Other blogs I frequent and enjoy? Hannah Pruitt, the absolute coolest person I know, usually posts pictures on her blog, while Jess Hawbaker (coincidentally, one of the receipts of the Pruitt Cool Award) loves to write about cooking and such, at least lately. Scotty Latta has his Kangaroo Song, while McQ has her Struggle Strength going on too.
Another chick I ran into at The Happiest Place in the Mall a week or so ago, Melissa Hall, has a blog which makes me smile. Its kinda random, and amusing too. I knew her as Melissa Hogue, this funky, feisty chick who had this attitude and this "ain't no man gonna bring me down" air about her... well, she went and got herself a man who didn't bring her down, kept the feist and had a baby, Anna Charlotte, who is just about the cutest thing I ever did see. Seriously. Love me some Melissa Hogue.
So, Libby Lu closed.
Libby Lu was across the hall from The Happiest Place in the Mall, and while I appreciated the niche they provided, I have to be honest. They were obnoxious.
I had only been in the store once, when I was spending the afternoon with my niece Madeleine. She drug me in there, and I kinda hung back while she toured the racks of lip gloss, High School Musical make up, Hannah Montana hair extensions, way too tight clothes and such. I dared not go in there by myself for any reason, lest I be greeted by Dateline's Chris Hansen, asking me to have a seat on the makeup stool, and inquiring what I was doing here, while holding pages of text transcripts in his hand.
From an article in The Washington Post, columnist Stacy Garfinkle writes:
The problem was that the club's version of dress-up involved hooking girls as young as 3 on glittery tube tops, tight pants, boas, nail polish, lip gloss, tiaras and runway modeling. Princesses and pop stars -- hence sex -- were in. So, dress-up was cool and fun, if it was sexy. No pilots or doctors or astronauts or firefighters to dress as in this place.
I learned all about The Lu, though, when I joined The Happiest Place in the Mall... they liked to play "The Cha Cha Slide" alot. A lot. A whole, whole lot. Like every few hours, I was treated to "two steps this time... two steps this time... now slide to the front... now slide to the back... now Criss-Cross! Criss Cross!" and they played it really, really loud--to the point that we could hear it across the mall's hall and all the way in the back of our own store, drowning out our videos of whatever live action talking animal disaster was making its way to theaters soon.
Shutting their doors
But, last week, Libby Lu had its final Cha Cha. They got to the point where they were just selling stuff for a buck... bracelets, trinkets, doo-dads, crap, whatever... and by mid-afternoon, I guess they were out of stuff to sell, because they pulled the gates down. The employees started slowly trickling into the empty store, and after a while, they were throwing one last party. I saw cake being brought out, they did some sort of team huddle, there were tears and then, finally, wouldn't you know it, they did that freakin' "Cha Cha Slide" one last time, and they did it loud.
The song is like, six minutes long, but finally, it ended. The Libby Chicks opened the gate, one by one drifted away, the gate was pulled down, and darkness set upon the Tween Paradise. "To Catch a Predator" finally pulled its cameras up, and they left too. Libby Lu was gone.
Bye.
You'll never guess who sent me a comment on my blog post on Facebook? None other than Jennifer Herndon. Yes, the one from "Pretty in a Jennifer Herndon sort of way" fame. She told me she enjoys reading what she's read so far, and might dive into the blog. Glad to see you here, Jennifer. Enjoy.
President B. Hussein Obama's stimulus package is a terrible, terrible plan. Absolutely terrible.
Here's a funny link to a list of 18 really bad music CD and movie DVD packaging gimmicks... I have #8 and #11, and agree, and totally have over 150 of #12
I will warn you that there is some language in the article.
YAY! Lorelei Gilmore is getting another series! I'm a guy... and I really, really enjoyed "The Gilmore Girls". Mostly because Lauren Graham is hhhhhhhhot. No joke.
Forty is a good age. Some of the hottest chicks I know are over 30, and many of them are 40 or older. Which means The Lovely Steph Leann is only going to get better with age. Like Lorelei Gilmore has.
A great little bit on how the old Soundwave is much better than the new Soundwave. Check out the Super Bowl diary for the new Transformers preview.
We watched "Slumdog Millionaire" this past weekend... ya know, I was actually pleased with it. My initial reaction right after the film was "it was pretty good", but as the days have gone by, I can say that "Slumdog" is a very good film.
Its hard to have an immediate reaction sometimes to a movie, though The Lovely Steph Leann usually will say as the credits are rolling "What did you think?" about any movie, and if I don't instantly say something positive, she thinks I'm stalling because I didn't like it.
"Slumdog" has a simple premise, for those of you who don't really know much about it... I knew about the guy who was on the Indian version of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire", but to give you a little more detail without spoiling it for you, the main guy, Jamal, has been arrested at the beginning of the movie, because the authorities feel like a guy from the slums cannot possibly know all the information he knows.
The police play back the video of the show, question by question, and Jamal tells the story of each question, giving us a flashback into his life of how he found out the answers to these questions. Now, for whatever reason, I thought it was more of a comedy, but it is not at all. Its got some funny moments, but it definately falls into the drama catagory... and its a good film.
That being said, I don't want it to win Best Picture.
Alright, another blog ramble comes to a close, as my eyelids will come to a close in a few. This will probably be the last blog before we head to The Happiest Place on Earth, and hopefully, I will be able to post and blog at least once from there. We're staying at Pop Century, which doesn't have free interweb, though we'll pay for it just to check email and stuff, and upload pics into Facebook.
Before I go...
A pic for The Lovely Steph Leann...
I only post that for equal time, as I was planning on posting my own random The Goddess pic...
Cause there's never a bad time for a The Goddess pic...
If you are wanting Wednesday night's Idol in Hollyweird, then scroll down to the same post as Tuesday night, where I continue the fun. If you missed the Super Bowl, the running diary blog is here.
So I figure I'd send some random thoughts your way...
The Super Bowl was A Number 1 awesome. I mean, it was just incredible... one of the best Super Bowls I've ever seen--much better than last year, by the way, only because last year was so disappointing. I really wanted the Patriots to win the game, not only because I wanted to see an undefeated season in my lifetime, but also because they truly were the better team--just not that one night.
The Steelers should have won the game, but Arizona made them earn it. Yes, I think that last play might have been an incomplete pass and not a fumble, but at the same time, the Cardinals made some really stupid penalties that cost them mucho. Anyway, excellent game.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Random Kellie Pickler music video. Its from her second CD, "Kellie Pickler", which I have listened to several times in the last few weeks, and really like.
I love me some Pickles. Totally Ashley Judd Club.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Made mention of my friend Erin the Marine Wife, and she finally has her website up and running. Its called "Many Kind Regards", and I wanted to give her a plug for it. Go check it out, her perspective from the military family side, especially with a husband who's frequently at war, is great. I'll be adding the link on "d$'s Recommended Blogs" on the right side, so you can check it out.
Other blogs I frequent and enjoy? Hannah Pruitt, the absolute coolest person I know, usually posts pictures on her blog, while Jess Hawbaker (coincidentally, one of the receipts of the Pruitt Cool Award) loves to write about cooking and such, at least lately. Scotty Latta has his Kangaroo Song, while McQ has her Struggle Strength going on too.
Another chick I ran into at The Happiest Place in the Mall a week or so ago, Melissa Hall, has a blog which makes me smile. Its kinda random, and amusing too. I knew her as Melissa Hogue, this funky, feisty chick who had this attitude and this "ain't no man gonna bring me down" air about her... well, she went and got herself a man who didn't bring her down, kept the feist and had a baby, Anna Charlotte, who is just about the cutest thing I ever did see. Seriously. Love me some Melissa Hogue.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
So, Libby Lu closed.
Libby Lu was across the hall from The Happiest Place in the Mall, and while I appreciated the niche they provided, I have to be honest. They were obnoxious.
I had only been in the store once, when I was spending the afternoon with my niece Madeleine. She drug me in there, and I kinda hung back while she toured the racks of lip gloss, High School Musical make up, Hannah Montana hair extensions, way too tight clothes and such. I dared not go in there by myself for any reason, lest I be greeted by Dateline's Chris Hansen, asking me to have a seat on the makeup stool, and inquiring what I was doing here, while holding pages of text transcripts in his hand.
From an article in The Washington Post, columnist Stacy Garfinkle writes:
The problem was that the club's version of dress-up involved hooking girls as young as 3 on glittery tube tops, tight pants, boas, nail polish, lip gloss, tiaras and runway modeling. Princesses and pop stars -- hence sex -- were in. So, dress-up was cool and fun, if it was sexy. No pilots or doctors or astronauts or firefighters to dress as in this place.
I learned all about The Lu, though, when I joined The Happiest Place in the Mall... they liked to play "The Cha Cha Slide" alot. A lot. A whole, whole lot. Like every few hours, I was treated to "two steps this time... two steps this time... now slide to the front... now slide to the back... now Criss-Cross! Criss Cross!" and they played it really, really loud--to the point that we could hear it across the mall's hall and all the way in the back of our own store, drowning out our videos of whatever live action talking animal disaster was making its way to theaters soon.
Shutting their doors
But, last week, Libby Lu had its final Cha Cha. They got to the point where they were just selling stuff for a buck... bracelets, trinkets, doo-dads, crap, whatever... and by mid-afternoon, I guess they were out of stuff to sell, because they pulled the gates down. The employees started slowly trickling into the empty store, and after a while, they were throwing one last party. I saw cake being brought out, they did some sort of team huddle, there were tears and then, finally, wouldn't you know it, they did that freakin' "Cha Cha Slide" one last time, and they did it loud.
The song is like, six minutes long, but finally, it ended. The Libby Chicks opened the gate, one by one drifted away, the gate was pulled down, and darkness set upon the Tween Paradise. "To Catch a Predator" finally pulled its cameras up, and they left too. Libby Lu was gone.
Bye.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
You'll never guess who sent me a comment on my blog post on Facebook? None other than Jennifer Herndon. Yes, the one from "Pretty in a Jennifer Herndon sort of way" fame. She told me she enjoys reading what she's read so far, and might dive into the blog. Glad to see you here, Jennifer. Enjoy.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
President B. Hussein Obama's stimulus package is a terrible, terrible plan. Absolutely terrible.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Here's a funny link to a list of 18 really bad music CD and movie DVD packaging gimmicks... I have #8 and #11, and agree, and totally have over 150 of #12
I will warn you that there is some language in the article.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
YAY! Lorelei Gilmore is getting another series! I'm a guy... and I really, really enjoyed "The Gilmore Girls". Mostly because Lauren Graham is hhhhhhhhot. No joke.
Forty is a good age. Some of the hottest chicks I know are over 30, and many of them are 40 or older. Which means The Lovely Steph Leann is only going to get better with age. Like Lorelei Gilmore has.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
A great little bit on how the old Soundwave is much better than the new Soundwave. Check out the Super Bowl diary for the new Transformers preview.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
We watched "Slumdog Millionaire" this past weekend... ya know, I was actually pleased with it. My initial reaction right after the film was "it was pretty good", but as the days have gone by, I can say that "Slumdog" is a very good film.
Its hard to have an immediate reaction sometimes to a movie, though The Lovely Steph Leann usually will say as the credits are rolling "What did you think?" about any movie, and if I don't instantly say something positive, she thinks I'm stalling because I didn't like it.
"Slumdog" has a simple premise, for those of you who don't really know much about it... I knew about the guy who was on the Indian version of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire", but to give you a little more detail without spoiling it for you, the main guy, Jamal, has been arrested at the beginning of the movie, because the authorities feel like a guy from the slums cannot possibly know all the information he knows.
The police play back the video of the show, question by question, and Jamal tells the story of each question, giving us a flashback into his life of how he found out the answers to these questions. Now, for whatever reason, I thought it was more of a comedy, but it is not at all. Its got some funny moments, but it definately falls into the drama catagory... and its a good film.
That being said, I don't want it to win Best Picture.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Alright, another blog ramble comes to a close, as my eyelids will come to a close in a few. This will probably be the last blog before we head to The Happiest Place on Earth, and hopefully, I will be able to post and blog at least once from there. We're staying at Pop Century, which doesn't have free interweb, though we'll pay for it just to check email and stuff, and upload pics into Facebook.
Before I go...
A pic for The Lovely Steph Leann...
I only post that for equal time, as I was planning on posting my own random The Goddess pic...
Cause there's never a bad time for a The Goddess pic...
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Idol: The Top 12 Take Stage
Are you New to the Blog? Click here!
It’s the Top 12 on American Idol! Thaaaat’s right, we’re about 34 weeks and 498 episodes away from finding out who will go on to not sell a bunch of records! A new set, a new opening, a new farewell song, a new point on Ryan’s haircut…
THIS. Is American Idol!
Reporting live from The Cabana, The Lovely Steph Leann is here with a blanket, Jason is on the couch with his arms crossed (this isn’t his favorite show, but he didn’t want to be alone, cause he doesn’t feel good) and of course, KT is in the house, ready to make sarcastic comments, and I’m here to record them all.
Tonight , the Top 12 are performing the Lennon/McCartney song book. This means much of this night will be singers singing songs they’d never heard before last Wednesday. This also means fluffing and puffing how great Paul McCartney and John Lennon were, deservedly so… or not.
Alright, let’s get to some music!
Syesha Mercado
The black Julia Stiles, whom I find extremely attractive whereas I don’t think the white Julie Stiles is all that good looking, is singing “Got to Get You Into My Life”, from the album “Revolver”.
All of her hair is put up and leaning on the right side of her head, which makes her look like she slept up against a wall. I’m not sure really how this song is supposed to sound, but I don’t know that Syesha is doing all that great. It’s very Big Bandy sounding. I really like this chick, but I’m not digging this one. Jason said he was bored.
Randy says aight, Paula blows sunshine, but Simon surprises… “I thought it was better than alright, though you look very, very nervous.”
I grab the remote to fast forward. Steph Leann watches me, then says, “Honey. You can’t fast forward through commercials. Not when its live tv.” Shows you how used to DVR I am.
CheezyDeezy
I’ve determined this guy looks like what Oscar winner Forest Whitaker looked like when he was about thirty years younger, and had two fully open eyes. Jason responds that he looks more like a friendly Ice Cube.
CheezyDeezy used to be an airline screener, saying, “I’m the guy who used to look through baggage, feel people up, tell you can’t take your water bottle on the plane and all.”
Up now, “She’s a Woman”, and CheezyDeezy is putting an old soul, almost bluegrass feel on it, with a fiddle, tambourine and banjo. Dude… I think I really like CheezyDeezy now… before this, I could take him or leave him, but seriously, he’s doing his thang tonight. And working it out. Dawg.
Randy says he was thoroughly entertained, dope, “you smashed it!!”. Jason replieds, “Good, he got the brotha vote.” Paula is incoherent. And apparently, her voice is going through puberty. Simon is really surprised that, “I actually agree with these two.” CheezyDeezy is thrilled.
Ryan is flaking out on stage, and Steph Leann pipes up, “Perhaps he’s had some of what Paula has had tonight. And… I don’t like Ryan’s hair.”
Ramiele Malubay
Lil’ Ramy works at a sushi place, pouring soy sauce, and according to the video, without gloves. She’s singing “In My Life”. She says it’s for a close friend who left the show already, which I can only assume was for Danny Noriega. She just can’t quit him.
The entire audience has their hands up, and are waving in sync. I’m expecting to see a candle or lighter. Lil’ Ramy is doing the song justice, and its actually not as boring as I thought it would be when it started out. Jason’s bored, though, as he just attempted to drink battery acid.
Randy says it was, “Kinda pretty, but kinda pretty boring…” while Paula tosses American Idol sized puppies and butterflies. Anytime she starts with “You look (insert positive visual adjective here) tonight,” it’s not a good thing. Simon says he was bored to tears.
Jason Castro
The Dreadlocked One is from Texas, and in his video, he has small gnats swirling around his dreads. Its rather funny. He looks like he walked straight out of “Dazed and Confused”.
“If I Fell” is the song for The Dreadlocked One, who is starting out with guitar. It’s a good song, but unlike “Hallelujahs” last week (which was also a slow song, but exceptional), this one is just so-so. And like last week, he flakes out on an ending note, which again, his face gives him away.
KT still says, “He’s mentally retarded.”
Randy liked it, but didn’t love it, he probably doesn’t want some more of it. Paula shovels sunshine across the face of The Dreadlocked One. Simon says, “It felt a little student-in-a-bedroom-at-midnight, if I’m being honest.” He says that The Dreadlocked One can’t keep doing this guitar ballad thing week after week, which I agree.
Jason: He has a striking resemblance to John Travolta
Carly Smithson
Jason, KT and myself all agree… Carly would be pretty, but the arm full of tats kill it. Of course, Jason adds, “What also kills it for me? Her face.”
Actually… I think she’s kinda pretty. In a Jennifer Herndon sort of way.
She’ll be singing, “Come Together”, one of her favorite songs. She’s doing it right, though, I’ll have to admit it. Dare I say, she’s making it kinda sexy… in a Jennifer Herndon sort of way. I can honestly say I’ve never ever said “sexy” and “Jennifer Herndon” in the same sentence. “Sexy” and “Beverly Day”, a mutual friend, maybe. Wait, where was I?
KT liked it. Steph Leann half smiles. Jason searches for something sarcastic to say. I liked it quite a bit. Randy loved it. Paula gives her deserved sunshine blows. Simon says, “Week after week, you’ve chosen the wrong song… until now. That was resembling what Kelly Clarkson did six years ago.”
David Cook
Okay, so my two favorite Beatles songs: “Eleanor Rigby” and “Penny Lane”, with the former being my very favorite, and the latter being close behind. And honestly, I’m not a huge Beatles fan. There. I said it. I appreciate what they did for music, and the footprint they left in music, but seriously, I’ve never been a big fan of all their stuff.
KT: I thought he was cute, until recently
Jason: Until I saw his fingernails.
David Rob Thomas Cook comes out, singing another song from “Revolver”, this one being “Eleanor Rigby”. As stated, my favorite Beatles song. So, DRTC, don’t screw it up.
He actually sounds like he could be Dave Grohl, or the lead singer of Collective Soul, or maybe Gavin Rossdale… and that’s a good thing. While the song didn’t blow me away, David Rob Thomas Cook has a great voice.
Randy says that DRTC can rock out, baby, can rock out. Paula hits on David Rob Thomas Cook, tossing her room keys. Simon thought it was brilliant.
Brooke White
My Next American Idol Brooke White is coming up now… and I’m really hoping she does well. The Lovely Steph Leann shrieks in joy when she finds out My Next American Idol Brooke White is singing “Let It Be”. While not a Bon Jovi song, it still thrills the Lovely Steph Leann nonetheless.
At the piano, My Next American Idol Brooke White is nailing it. And unlike The Dreadlocked One and Lil’ Ramy, My Next American Idol Brooke White is doing the ballad justice, and not making boring. Frankly, I love this chick.
The Lovely Steph Leann says, “Cool beans!”, while KT wipes tears. She hated it, but still. Jason sits silent, looking for something smarmy to say.
Randy liked it quite a bit. Paula uses words like “niche”, “heart”, “connection”, “kittens” and “happiness”. Simon says it was one of the best performances of the night. My Next American Idol Brooke White has tears in her eyes. Go My Next American Idol Brooke White! She’s not even wearing shoes! I love it!
David Hernandez
One of the least interesting personalities on the show turns out to be a former stripper at a gay club. Dave the Stripper is singing “I Saw Him Standing There”. He says he’s going to work the stage and have fun. Perhaps there would be a pole there. If I’m Dave the Stripper, I’d totally ask for one, and give Simon, Randy and Paula singles just to get me in the zone.
Dave the Stripper is not doing the song very well, and seriously, he’s boring now. I actually prefer the Tiffany version from like, 1989. That spent a few weeks atop my Dave’s Favorite Song Mental Chart, before I got bored with it.
Randy thought it was overdone. Too much going on. Paula is spluttering. I think she might ask for a dance, actually. She also says he overdid it, but then throws out sunshine. Simon says “no” three times, saying “corny, verging on desperate.” Dave the Stripper might actually be in danger… Ryan even says, “Dave the Stripper, I know you had a rough week this past week… “ and when Dave the Stripper answers, Ryan turns immediately to the camera, saying, “If you want to vote for Dave the Stripper…”, with a “Yeah, whatever, I don’t care”.
Amanda Overmyer
Finally, Simba cracks a smile! She might actually win me over, maybe. It’s possible. She talks about being a biker chick, in a biker family, and being a rough and tumble chick.
“You Can’t Do That” is the song choice tonight. She’s been singing for about 30 seconds, and the only words I’ve been able to make are “you” “do” “can’t” and “that”, not necessarily in that order. Simba screams a lot.
Randy loves Simba. “You brought it and rocked it like a Southern bar!”. Paula is exploding with clouds and cutesy bootsies. Simon didn’t think it was all that great, saying that he only understood about 30% of what Simba was saying.
Jason: All her songs sound alike. Like Gretchen Wilson.
I agree.
Michael Johns
Crocomichael Johndee is not only a singer, but a tennis coach. A teacher. A lover and a fighter. Aussie Michael says, “I first discovered Lennon McCartney when I was 10.” Jason replies, “I think he thinks that Lennon McCartney is one person.”
“Across the Universe” is the song tonight. Aussie Michael actually does kind of remind me of Michael Hutchens, though KT says Aussie Michael sounds like Eddie Vedder. Jason corrects her and says, “He is trying to sound like Eddie. Don’t ever think he sounds like Eddie.
By the way, to Jason and KT, Eddie Vedder is not the lead in a band that takes themselves way too seriously and peaked after two albums, but in actuality is the lead in Heaven’s rock band.
Randy says it was a little sleepy and was just aight. Paula disagrees, using words like “inner strength” and “confidence” and “connected”. Last week, we played an Idol drinking game. Every time Paula says “emotion” and “connected”, we took a shot. Jason relapsed into a coma, KT was arrested for DUI, The Lovely Steph Leann has liver disease and I’m still hungover.
Oh, and Simon didn’t like it, either.
Kristy Lee Cook
KLC is changing up “Eight Days A Week” into a country type song. She says that Simon challenged her to take risks, so we’ll see. Jason groans, saying this is something KT would do.
Ya know, honestly… its not as bad as I thought it would be. Its not great, but its not too bad. KT thinks its awesome, Jason thinks its miserable, and The Lovely Steph Leann sits amused. It kind of reminds me of Hayseed Dixie, a local bluegrass band who takes rock songs and turns them into bluegrass tunes. Only, they were better.
Randy is struggling for words, sorta liking it, sorta not. Paula is actually silent. And not even a “You look beautiful tonight” to lead it off! She says, “You can’t take what we say truly to heart,” meaning “Please don’t listen to what we say.”
Simon said it was “Dolly Parton on helium. Its good to take risks, but not that one.”
It might have worked a little better if it were slowed down. Maybe.
David Archuleta
Young David is about to sing, to which KT clapped out loud. Singing “We Can Work It Out”, he admits in his video he’s stressed out. Jason thinks he might work well on “Idol Pre-School’, and I…
Holy crap. Young David forgot the words. And then did it again.
The joy from his singing that is normally there is completely gone… he knows he flubbed on the biggest audition stage in America. Young David, the one loved by millions, forgot the words to the song.
Randy says this week was not his vibe. Of course its not Young David’s vibe… holy crap, these songs are twenty years old than him!! Paula loves him anyway. Simon says, “That was a mess. Twelve people, all wanting to win, and that was a total mess.”
Young David finally shows a weakness. I still contend he’s not going to win this thing, he’ll end up fourth. Perhaps third.
My top three tonight? 1) CheezyDeezy; 2) My Next American Idol Brooke White; and 3) David Rob Thomas Cook.
My bottom three? 10) KLC; 11) Dave the Stripper; and 12) Lil' Ramy. I think that KLC will last one more week, perhaps only one more week, and we'll see Lil' Ramy go home.
It’s the Top 12 on American Idol! Thaaaat’s right, we’re about 34 weeks and 498 episodes away from finding out who will go on to not sell a bunch of records! A new set, a new opening, a new farewell song, a new point on Ryan’s haircut…
THIS. Is American Idol!
Reporting live from The Cabana, The Lovely Steph Leann is here with a blanket, Jason is on the couch with his arms crossed (this isn’t his favorite show, but he didn’t want to be alone, cause he doesn’t feel good) and of course, KT is in the house, ready to make sarcastic comments, and I’m here to record them all.
Tonight , the Top 12 are performing the Lennon/McCartney song book. This means much of this night will be singers singing songs they’d never heard before last Wednesday. This also means fluffing and puffing how great Paul McCartney and John Lennon were, deservedly so… or not.
Alright, let’s get to some music!
Syesha Mercado
The black Julia Stiles, whom I find extremely attractive whereas I don’t think the white Julie Stiles is all that good looking, is singing “Got to Get You Into My Life”, from the album “Revolver”.
All of her hair is put up and leaning on the right side of her head, which makes her look like she slept up against a wall. I’m not sure really how this song is supposed to sound, but I don’t know that Syesha is doing all that great. It’s very Big Bandy sounding. I really like this chick, but I’m not digging this one. Jason said he was bored.
Randy says aight, Paula blows sunshine, but Simon surprises… “I thought it was better than alright, though you look very, very nervous.”
I grab the remote to fast forward. Steph Leann watches me, then says, “Honey. You can’t fast forward through commercials. Not when its live tv.” Shows you how used to DVR I am.
CheezyDeezy
I’ve determined this guy looks like what Oscar winner Forest Whitaker looked like when he was about thirty years younger, and had two fully open eyes. Jason responds that he looks more like a friendly Ice Cube.
CheezyDeezy used to be an airline screener, saying, “I’m the guy who used to look through baggage, feel people up, tell you can’t take your water bottle on the plane and all.”
Up now, “She’s a Woman”, and CheezyDeezy is putting an old soul, almost bluegrass feel on it, with a fiddle, tambourine and banjo. Dude… I think I really like CheezyDeezy now… before this, I could take him or leave him, but seriously, he’s doing his thang tonight. And working it out. Dawg.
Randy says he was thoroughly entertained, dope, “you smashed it!!”. Jason replieds, “Good, he got the brotha vote.” Paula is incoherent. And apparently, her voice is going through puberty. Simon is really surprised that, “I actually agree with these two.” CheezyDeezy is thrilled.
Ryan is flaking out on stage, and Steph Leann pipes up, “Perhaps he’s had some of what Paula has had tonight. And… I don’t like Ryan’s hair.”
Ramiele Malubay
Lil’ Ramy works at a sushi place, pouring soy sauce, and according to the video, without gloves. She’s singing “In My Life”. She says it’s for a close friend who left the show already, which I can only assume was for Danny Noriega. She just can’t quit him.
The entire audience has their hands up, and are waving in sync. I’m expecting to see a candle or lighter. Lil’ Ramy is doing the song justice, and its actually not as boring as I thought it would be when it started out. Jason’s bored, though, as he just attempted to drink battery acid.
Randy says it was, “Kinda pretty, but kinda pretty boring…” while Paula tosses American Idol sized puppies and butterflies. Anytime she starts with “You look (insert positive visual adjective here) tonight,” it’s not a good thing. Simon says he was bored to tears.
Jason Castro
The Dreadlocked One is from Texas, and in his video, he has small gnats swirling around his dreads. Its rather funny. He looks like he walked straight out of “Dazed and Confused”.
“If I Fell” is the song for The Dreadlocked One, who is starting out with guitar. It’s a good song, but unlike “Hallelujahs” last week (which was also a slow song, but exceptional), this one is just so-so. And like last week, he flakes out on an ending note, which again, his face gives him away.
KT still says, “He’s mentally retarded.”
Randy liked it, but didn’t love it, he probably doesn’t want some more of it. Paula shovels sunshine across the face of The Dreadlocked One. Simon says, “It felt a little student-in-a-bedroom-at-midnight, if I’m being honest.” He says that The Dreadlocked One can’t keep doing this guitar ballad thing week after week, which I agree.
Jason: He has a striking resemblance to John Travolta
Carly Smithson
Jason, KT and myself all agree… Carly would be pretty, but the arm full of tats kill it. Of course, Jason adds, “What also kills it for me? Her face.”
Actually… I think she’s kinda pretty. In a Jennifer Herndon sort of way.
She’ll be singing, “Come Together”, one of her favorite songs. She’s doing it right, though, I’ll have to admit it. Dare I say, she’s making it kinda sexy… in a Jennifer Herndon sort of way. I can honestly say I’ve never ever said “sexy” and “Jennifer Herndon” in the same sentence. “Sexy” and “Beverly Day”, a mutual friend, maybe. Wait, where was I?
KT liked it. Steph Leann half smiles. Jason searches for something sarcastic to say. I liked it quite a bit. Randy loved it. Paula gives her deserved sunshine blows. Simon says, “Week after week, you’ve chosen the wrong song… until now. That was resembling what Kelly Clarkson did six years ago.”
David Cook
Okay, so my two favorite Beatles songs: “Eleanor Rigby” and “Penny Lane”, with the former being my very favorite, and the latter being close behind. And honestly, I’m not a huge Beatles fan. There. I said it. I appreciate what they did for music, and the footprint they left in music, but seriously, I’ve never been a big fan of all their stuff.
KT: I thought he was cute, until recently
Jason: Until I saw his fingernails.
David Rob Thomas Cook comes out, singing another song from “Revolver”, this one being “Eleanor Rigby”. As stated, my favorite Beatles song. So, DRTC, don’t screw it up.
He actually sounds like he could be Dave Grohl, or the lead singer of Collective Soul, or maybe Gavin Rossdale… and that’s a good thing. While the song didn’t blow me away, David Rob Thomas Cook has a great voice.
Randy says that DRTC can rock out, baby, can rock out. Paula hits on David Rob Thomas Cook, tossing her room keys. Simon thought it was brilliant.
Brooke White
My Next American Idol Brooke White is coming up now… and I’m really hoping she does well. The Lovely Steph Leann shrieks in joy when she finds out My Next American Idol Brooke White is singing “Let It Be”. While not a Bon Jovi song, it still thrills the Lovely Steph Leann nonetheless.
At the piano, My Next American Idol Brooke White is nailing it. And unlike The Dreadlocked One and Lil’ Ramy, My Next American Idol Brooke White is doing the ballad justice, and not making boring. Frankly, I love this chick.
The Lovely Steph Leann says, “Cool beans!”, while KT wipes tears. She hated it, but still. Jason sits silent, looking for something smarmy to say.
Randy liked it quite a bit. Paula uses words like “niche”, “heart”, “connection”, “kittens” and “happiness”. Simon says it was one of the best performances of the night. My Next American Idol Brooke White has tears in her eyes. Go My Next American Idol Brooke White! She’s not even wearing shoes! I love it!
David Hernandez
One of the least interesting personalities on the show turns out to be a former stripper at a gay club. Dave the Stripper is singing “I Saw Him Standing There”. He says he’s going to work the stage and have fun. Perhaps there would be a pole there. If I’m Dave the Stripper, I’d totally ask for one, and give Simon, Randy and Paula singles just to get me in the zone.
Dave the Stripper is not doing the song very well, and seriously, he’s boring now. I actually prefer the Tiffany version from like, 1989. That spent a few weeks atop my Dave’s Favorite Song Mental Chart, before I got bored with it.
Randy thought it was overdone. Too much going on. Paula is spluttering. I think she might ask for a dance, actually. She also says he overdid it, but then throws out sunshine. Simon says “no” three times, saying “corny, verging on desperate.” Dave the Stripper might actually be in danger… Ryan even says, “Dave the Stripper, I know you had a rough week this past week… “ and when Dave the Stripper answers, Ryan turns immediately to the camera, saying, “If you want to vote for Dave the Stripper…”, with a “Yeah, whatever, I don’t care”.
Amanda Overmyer
Finally, Simba cracks a smile! She might actually win me over, maybe. It’s possible. She talks about being a biker chick, in a biker family, and being a rough and tumble chick.
“You Can’t Do That” is the song choice tonight. She’s been singing for about 30 seconds, and the only words I’ve been able to make are “you” “do” “can’t” and “that”, not necessarily in that order. Simba screams a lot.
Randy loves Simba. “You brought it and rocked it like a Southern bar!”. Paula is exploding with clouds and cutesy bootsies. Simon didn’t think it was all that great, saying that he only understood about 30% of what Simba was saying.
Jason: All her songs sound alike. Like Gretchen Wilson.
I agree.
Michael Johns
Crocomichael Johndee is not only a singer, but a tennis coach. A teacher. A lover and a fighter. Aussie Michael says, “I first discovered Lennon McCartney when I was 10.” Jason replies, “I think he thinks that Lennon McCartney is one person.”
“Across the Universe” is the song tonight. Aussie Michael actually does kind of remind me of Michael Hutchens, though KT says Aussie Michael sounds like Eddie Vedder. Jason corrects her and says, “He is trying to sound like Eddie. Don’t ever think he sounds like Eddie.
By the way, to Jason and KT, Eddie Vedder is not the lead in a band that takes themselves way too seriously and peaked after two albums, but in actuality is the lead in Heaven’s rock band.
Randy says it was a little sleepy and was just aight. Paula disagrees, using words like “inner strength” and “confidence” and “connected”. Last week, we played an Idol drinking game. Every time Paula says “emotion” and “connected”, we took a shot. Jason relapsed into a coma, KT was arrested for DUI, The Lovely Steph Leann has liver disease and I’m still hungover.
Oh, and Simon didn’t like it, either.
Kristy Lee Cook
KLC is changing up “Eight Days A Week” into a country type song. She says that Simon challenged her to take risks, so we’ll see. Jason groans, saying this is something KT would do.
Ya know, honestly… its not as bad as I thought it would be. Its not great, but its not too bad. KT thinks its awesome, Jason thinks its miserable, and The Lovely Steph Leann sits amused. It kind of reminds me of Hayseed Dixie, a local bluegrass band who takes rock songs and turns them into bluegrass tunes. Only, they were better.
Randy is struggling for words, sorta liking it, sorta not. Paula is actually silent. And not even a “You look beautiful tonight” to lead it off! She says, “You can’t take what we say truly to heart,” meaning “Please don’t listen to what we say.”
Simon said it was “Dolly Parton on helium. Its good to take risks, but not that one.”
It might have worked a little better if it were slowed down. Maybe.
David Archuleta
Young David is about to sing, to which KT clapped out loud. Singing “We Can Work It Out”, he admits in his video he’s stressed out. Jason thinks he might work well on “Idol Pre-School’, and I…
Holy crap. Young David forgot the words. And then did it again.
The joy from his singing that is normally there is completely gone… he knows he flubbed on the biggest audition stage in America. Young David, the one loved by millions, forgot the words to the song.
Randy says this week was not his vibe. Of course its not Young David’s vibe… holy crap, these songs are twenty years old than him!! Paula loves him anyway. Simon says, “That was a mess. Twelve people, all wanting to win, and that was a total mess.”
Young David finally shows a weakness. I still contend he’s not going to win this thing, he’ll end up fourth. Perhaps third.
My top three tonight? 1) CheezyDeezy; 2) My Next American Idol Brooke White; and 3) David Rob Thomas Cook.
My bottom three? 10) KLC; 11) Dave the Stripper; and 12) Lil' Ramy. I think that KLC will last one more week, perhaps only one more week, and we'll see Lil' Ramy go home.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Walking the Birth Line in Philadelphia
Only 13 More Days Until The Deuce Weekly Returns!
Before we begin, note that I've added links to all sorts of fun and various things in the Super Bowl Diary, including one to The Sports Guy's own diary.
Saw two movies for the first time, and saw another one for the first time in a long time...
The first is "Birth". This stars Nicole Kidman, Lauren Bacall, Anne Heche and this kid named Cameron Bright. Okay, so here's the set up... Nicole plays Anna, who has lost her husband and is still grieving, even years later. In fact, she's still grieving when she decides to remarry, marrying Joseph, played by Danny Huston (you might know him from Leaving Las Vegas, as "Barman 2"). Anyway, this 10 year old kid pops up (Cameron, who plays "young" versions of characters in at least half of his roles) and says he's the reincarnated version of Sean, who is Anna's husband.
Its a very weird movie with really no point. I invested 110 minutes into this movie, and the end has no substantial payout. Nothing. Since I figure you'll probably not see this movie, let me tell you how crappy it ends... after an hour and a half of this kid trying to convince Anna not to marry Joseph, that he's really Sean, he tells her that he's really not Sean. And thats it. Plus you get the disturbing picture of Nicole Kidman sitting in a bathtub with a ten year old boy. She's one of my favorite actresses, sitting close to the top of the "All Time Hot Actresses List" (which has had Ashley Judd at #1 for forever), but she just hasn't made the kind of movies in the last few years like the ones that made me fall in love with her to begin with... Dead Calm, The Others, Moulin Rouge, To Die For, even that suckfest The Peacemaker was better with her in it. And admit it--Cold Mountain was only good because of Jewel being in it. But I digress...
Next, I saw the movie "Philadelphia" for the first time in several years. Because this movie is a little older, 1993, some of you may not have seen it... but its fantastic. Tom Hanks is Andrew Beckett, a solid attorney with a long history of success who is suddenly fired after "losing" an important file. He sues the law firm, feeling they fired him because it becomes known that he has AIDS... and that he's gay. Beckett hires Joe Miller, played by Denzel Washington, to represent him, and they go after the big guns in the law firm.
Both Tom Hanks and Denzel are fantastic in this movie... remember, up until now, Hanks had been the guy in Turner and Hooch, and The Money Pit and those silly 80s movies--there was no Forest Gump, or an Apollo 13 or a Cast Away at this point, or even a Sleepless in Seattle... this was a major turn for him. Denzel had won an Oscar for Glory, but I dare say his character here, frightened by the fact he knows nothing about AIDS and how to get it, and how repulsed he is by Andrew Beckett's homosexuality, trumps his role in Glory. Just a great movie.
Finally, Stephanie & I finally saw Walk the Line" this week. Absolutely fantastic. Joaquin Phoenix... you know, if he insists that his name is not pronounced "Joe-Quinn", but instead "WahKeen", but still spells it like Joe-Quinn, then we'll call him WahKeen... is great as Johnny Cash, but the real treat in this movie is Reese Witherspoon. I have always been a Reese Fan, because even though the first thing that pops in your head is "Legally Blonde", she's got lots of other stuff... in fact, we'll do a column on her later. There is too much to say, and right now, we're talking about Walk the Line.
Reese is simply brilliant as June Carter, who is only slightly in the movie for the first third, but when Johnny gives in to his pill addiction and has his world collapse around him, she takes center stage, being his friend and helper and eventually his wife. I would luuuuuuve to see Reese pick up an Oscar for this part.
The movie starts right before Johnny is set to take the stage at the now famous Folsom Prison concert, and begins a flashback to his childhood (is that really the guy from Terminator 2 as his DAD??) on up through marrying his childhood sweetheart, Vivian (played by Gennifer Goodwin, who falls into The Jennifer Herndon Circle of Almost Beauty) and eventually meeting June Carter. You see Johnny Cash rise to the top, take the fall and crawl his way back up. Its also fun to see unknown actors play legendary artists like Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, Elvis and Waylon Jennings, who was actually played by Waylon's son Shooter.
The music is grand, you find yourself humming to Folsom Prison Blues and Ring of Fire, even as you see them being constructed, and to be honest I dont know much about June Carter's music... that being said, I would buy a Reese Witherspoon album right now if she had it out. Both Wahkeen and Reese did all their own vocals, and it was pratically flawless.
Bottom line is, I loved everything about this movie... I can see this being a Remote Stopper soon enough.
Dave's Movie Ratings
Birth: $$
Philadelphia: $$$$
Walk the Line: $$$$1/2
$ - Crap. Better film on teeth.
$$ - Eh. Not the worst I've ever seen, but not far from it.
$$$ - Not bad. Not my favorite, but I would watch it again if it came on TV
$$$$ - Very good film. Very well done, well acted, great movie.
$$$$$ - Absolutely Brilliant Movie.
Before we begin, note that I've added links to all sorts of fun and various things in the Super Bowl Diary, including one to The Sports Guy's own diary.
Saw two movies for the first time, and saw another one for the first time in a long time...
The first is "Birth". This stars Nicole Kidman, Lauren Bacall, Anne Heche and this kid named Cameron Bright. Okay, so here's the set up... Nicole plays Anna, who has lost her husband and is still grieving, even years later. In fact, she's still grieving when she decides to remarry, marrying Joseph, played by Danny Huston (you might know him from Leaving Las Vegas, as "Barman 2"). Anyway, this 10 year old kid pops up (Cameron, who plays "young" versions of characters in at least half of his roles) and says he's the reincarnated version of Sean, who is Anna's husband.
Its a very weird movie with really no point. I invested 110 minutes into this movie, and the end has no substantial payout. Nothing. Since I figure you'll probably not see this movie, let me tell you how crappy it ends... after an hour and a half of this kid trying to convince Anna not to marry Joseph, that he's really Sean, he tells her that he's really not Sean. And thats it. Plus you get the disturbing picture of Nicole Kidman sitting in a bathtub with a ten year old boy. She's one of my favorite actresses, sitting close to the top of the "All Time Hot Actresses List" (which has had Ashley Judd at #1 for forever), but she just hasn't made the kind of movies in the last few years like the ones that made me fall in love with her to begin with... Dead Calm, The Others, Moulin Rouge, To Die For, even that suckfest The Peacemaker was better with her in it. And admit it--Cold Mountain was only good because of Jewel being in it. But I digress...
Next, I saw the movie "Philadelphia" for the first time in several years. Because this movie is a little older, 1993, some of you may not have seen it... but its fantastic. Tom Hanks is Andrew Beckett, a solid attorney with a long history of success who is suddenly fired after "losing" an important file. He sues the law firm, feeling they fired him because it becomes known that he has AIDS... and that he's gay. Beckett hires Joe Miller, played by Denzel Washington, to represent him, and they go after the big guns in the law firm.
Both Tom Hanks and Denzel are fantastic in this movie... remember, up until now, Hanks had been the guy in Turner and Hooch, and The Money Pit and those silly 80s movies--there was no Forest Gump, or an Apollo 13 or a Cast Away at this point, or even a Sleepless in Seattle... this was a major turn for him. Denzel had won an Oscar for Glory, but I dare say his character here, frightened by the fact he knows nothing about AIDS and how to get it, and how repulsed he is by Andrew Beckett's homosexuality, trumps his role in Glory. Just a great movie.
Finally, Stephanie & I finally saw Walk the Line" this week. Absolutely fantastic. Joaquin Phoenix... you know, if he insists that his name is not pronounced "Joe-Quinn", but instead "WahKeen", but still spells it like Joe-Quinn, then we'll call him WahKeen... is great as Johnny Cash, but the real treat in this movie is Reese Witherspoon. I have always been a Reese Fan, because even though the first thing that pops in your head is "Legally Blonde", she's got lots of other stuff... in fact, we'll do a column on her later. There is too much to say, and right now, we're talking about Walk the Line.
Reese is simply brilliant as June Carter, who is only slightly in the movie for the first third, but when Johnny gives in to his pill addiction and has his world collapse around him, she takes center stage, being his friend and helper and eventually his wife. I would luuuuuuve to see Reese pick up an Oscar for this part.
The movie starts right before Johnny is set to take the stage at the now famous Folsom Prison concert, and begins a flashback to his childhood (is that really the guy from Terminator 2 as his DAD??) on up through marrying his childhood sweetheart, Vivian (played by Gennifer Goodwin, who falls into The Jennifer Herndon Circle of Almost Beauty) and eventually meeting June Carter. You see Johnny Cash rise to the top, take the fall and crawl his way back up. Its also fun to see unknown actors play legendary artists like Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, Elvis and Waylon Jennings, who was actually played by Waylon's son Shooter.
The music is grand, you find yourself humming to Folsom Prison Blues and Ring of Fire, even as you see them being constructed, and to be honest I dont know much about June Carter's music... that being said, I would buy a Reese Witherspoon album right now if she had it out. Both Wahkeen and Reese did all their own vocals, and it was pratically flawless.
Bottom line is, I loved everything about this movie... I can see this being a Remote Stopper soon enough.
Dave's Movie Ratings
Birth: $$
Philadelphia: $$$$
Walk the Line: $$$$1/2
$ - Crap. Better film on teeth.
$$ - Eh. Not the worst I've ever seen, but not far from it.
$$$ - Not bad. Not my favorite, but I would watch it again if it came on TV
$$$$ - Very good film. Very well done, well acted, great movie.
$$$$$ - Absolutely Brilliant Movie.
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