OSCAR RUN, REDUX

Drag out the Marchesas and Armanis and Bulgaris, people, it's Oscar time again.


Which means my friend Mary and I will be spending the upcoming hours huddled in a movie theater, cramming in the last of whichever Oscar hopefuls we have to watch before the big event this Sunday.

The Oscar Run returns. 


My flick picks are not set in stone yet, though I will admit there have been a few twists and turns along the way this year.


For starters when I saw Inception early in the year I thought the film was something else, and now watching the trailer bores the daylights out of me.


Further, Black Swan had me enthralled until I saw Winter's Bone and realized just how marvelous a movie can be when it has a good story line, is photographed simply and draws you in without the need for razor editing or loud, booming soundtracks. 


Never mind I fell in love with Annette Benning's subtle performance in The Kids Are All Right.


The Cohens should have left True Grit alone. I saw the first one eons ago and I didn't think it was that great overall, and knew that John Wayne got the Oscar because it was just damn time to give it to him. 


I don't believe that Jeff Bridges is in that league just yet.

The Social Network, a.k.a. the movie about the Facebook geeks, will win because it's a movie about geeks, cleverly edited with terrific dialogue. It has helped me understand a boatload of guys I know who run around wearing flip flops and hoodies attempting to emulate those aforementioned geeks. (Prior to that I just thought these dudes were really poor dressers. Sorry, but I still think nothing beats a guy in a tuxedo, except maybe Richard Gere in Armani.)


Amen, and pass the popcorn and Good and Plenty.

WON'T GET FOOLED AGAIN

Sometimes, someone else writes words that really express what you are feeling at the moment.


Today, it's The Who. 


Forgive me for plagiarizing. But my bullshit meter is up to the brim. Read on, people.


We'll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgment of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around me
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
And I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
Don't get fooled again

Change it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fall that's all
But the world looks just the same
And history ain't changed
'Cause the banners, they all flown in the last war

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around me
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
And I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
Don't get fooled again
No, no! 

I'll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky
For I know that the hypnotized never lie

Do ya?


There's nothing in the street
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left
Is now the parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around me
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
Don't get fooled again
No, no!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss


Amen, and pass the mustard.

KODACHROME BLUES

There's a posting in the Vanity Fair website showcasing the last images shot by a photographer using Kodachrome film. Kodak killed the legendary film in 2009 amidst much hype.


But in a stark reality check, those last photos left me stunned in more ways than one.


I've a very old Nikkormat SLR that is now sitting on my coffee table, now more of a decoration than a functional camera, replaced by the digital Nikon I use these days. Now, don't get me wrong -- those digital images are fantastic, and the ways we can play with them are mind boggling.

Today, however, I again mourn an old friend. 


Kodachrome gave me surprises galore, spectacular pictures that resulted even when I made mistakes and either over or under exposed a frame. There were sunsets that were more glorious than I saw, freak halos that were not in the viewfinder when I pointed, and shot.


I looked through the viewfinder, took my readings, and held my breath pressing down the shutter, because at that moment, I never knew just exactly what I was going to get in the end.


Digital photography gives the ability to look at a photograph seconds after it is made, the opportunity to redo endlessly, without the worry that a single roll of film would run out.


But Kodachrome, that lovely strip winding its way in the interior of my camera with accompanying clicks and satisfying whirrs, that, my friends, is the stuff of legend.


I was a far better photographer because of Kodachrome's magic. There isn't a photographer on earth, no matter what level of experience and skill, that cannot make that statement, and I won't belittle this sentiment by quoting the old Paul Simon song.


Amen, and pass the mustard.

STILL PARADISE TO ME

It was the winter of 1995/96 and I had just returned from living in the Cayman Islands. 

Yes, people, I  HAD lived in paradise. I walked the Caribbean shores daily and had a tan in February, no problem.

Then I returned to New England to a miserable winter that ended up dumping something like 110 inches of snow on us over the course of a few months. It broke weather records, and my heart.

Now I'm reliving that cursed winter, looking out the window as it snows and snows and snows and snows some more. There's got to be some cosmic joke going on, at least, on me.

Nothing beats palm trees in winter. All you Snow Bunnies can go to you know where.

So here I am back in a frozen winter and I would give anything for the hot sun on my back, my Mares fins on my feet as I snorkel the waves, followed by a supper of turtle stew. Then a long sleep under cotton sheets.


To my dear Caymanian friends Annie, Denise and Tara --  where you live is still paradise to me.

Send me sunshine, mis amigas, I need it sorely. Amen, and pass the mustard.