Monday, August 29, 2005

What time is it...?

It's Johnny O'Clock.

You know, I have always had a really hard time accepting Dick Powell in the noir genre. I keep picturing him as the "juvenile" of 42nd Street, so it's a little silly to see him belt out the hard-man roles and shoot guns.

That said, there is one moment in Johnny O'Clock that completely stunned me -- in fact, I was going to turn it off. Sure, it's always good to see Evelyn Keyes (with her "Bratz eyes" as Mallory called them), but it was kind of a lame story with only little touches of interest (ie: the reproduction of the Diego Rivera painting that Johnny's got over his fireplace ... "some people are walking ... some people are riding..."). But I held out until the end:

Johnny's boss, Marchettis (who's played by the guy who kept saying "I'll bet they'll bring Prohibition back" in Key Largo), is holding a gun on Johnny's back, trying to get him to turn around. He thinks Johnny's been fooling around with Mrs. Marchettis, his drunk, slut wife. While they're bantering, she's telling her husband to let Johnny go, that nothing happened or will happen, etc...

It's then that Dick's face turns hard and his voice gets really dark.

He barks: "Don't beg for me!" to the wife.

Okay, maybe in a blog it doesn't come across, but this scene gets played out time and again in films and this is the first time it was believable and incredibly masculine.

I mean, this is the guy that offers to go shopping (and then sings about it) with Gloria Stuart in Gold Diggers of '35! ... crazy ...

Monday, August 22, 2005

Fun Facts

Things I've already learned this week (and it's only Monday):

Adam & Eve on a Raft is (are?) poached eggs with roasted tomatoes, mushrooms and ham on toast

University of Oregon students ride FREE on the bus in Eugene. This is the best thing EVER. Sure, you have to ride with some folks who may want to sit on your lap and talk to you, but you also get to read and listen to music without struggling for a parking spot and that is very cool.

Sadie Hawkins started in the L'il Abner comic strip -- this was a fun fact I threw out recently among family and friends, but, honestly, I was totally talking out of my ass based on some half-remembered film version of the comic. Turns out I hit it on the head (thank God). I quote: Sadie Hawkins was "the homeliest gal in the hills" who grew tired of waiting for the fellows to come a courtin'. Her father, Hekzebiah Hawkins, a prominent resident of Dogpatch, was even more worried about Sadie living at home for the rest of his life, so he decreed the first annual Sadie Hawkins Day, a foot race in which the unmarried gals pursued the town's bachelors, with matrimony the consequence.

Shazam!

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Stickin' it to the Man

I know I just posted about how I don't post because I'm busy chumming for my boss, but that was before I decided to throw off the good employee gig in favor of sleeping in an extra hour (Sweet Jesus, no! Working at your scheduled time? Noooooooooooooooooooooo) because I'd spent the entire night before getting my virtual ass kicked on X-Box Fight Night.

I went 0-1 as Manny Pacquiao, but that might be because I (Featherweight) was fighting Chris Byrd (Heavyweight). As Ricardo Mayorga I did a little better: 0-1-2, coming to a draw against Sugar Ray Leonard -- losing against Hatton and Tarver, but everyone was losing to Tarver. The cousin/roommate really worked the jab to excellent effect. Even Muhammad Ali and Ricky Hatton had to resort to dirty play. (The opinion being that Ian, as Ali and Hatton, would rather throw a fight than risk losing the decision -- but he's a Spurs supporter, so...)

Of course I paid for this bad behavior by working late trying to finish crap that I didn't get done because I didn't come in early.

Blows, dude.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

"I'm having trouble here..."

The posts are getting fewer because I've been working like a freaking dog for the past 2 weeks. In at 6 or 6:30 and home at 5 really blows, but we're short-staffed thanks to a case of carpal tunnel (gosh! how could that happen?) and the summer is not what it used to be. Honestly, this time last year I was doing every New York Times Crossword puzzle listed in the archives -- sometimes up to 3 or 4 per day in between reading old copies of Woman's Day or Vanity Fair or whatever else was left on the cabinet in the ladies' bathroom. Hey-Zeus Christo and Jeanne-Claude, I can't even imagine what Christmas is going to be like or how this is going to work out with school.

That gripe aside, one of duties includes checking orders for fraud. Sometimes this is fun, like a Columbo mystery ("So, let me see if I get this straight ... you're a legitimate company who needs 230 ink cartridges ... and you're in Nigeria. Have I got that right, sir?") and sometimes it's a time-consuming pain in the ass that involves calling banks for verification. You'd be surprised at how many banks won't do a fraud check and how many laugh off the idea of a fraud department. I don't know where they live, but it must be sunny and nice with only good folks. American Express is the easiest. They're entirely automated, but you've got to talk to one of those voice-activated robots. God forbid you get the giggles. The robot is so peppy and happy (I actually missed her when I was directed to a different robot one day), that when you screw up she replies in her best "gosh" voice: "I'm having trouble here." You can almost see her make that blinky-eyed face -- you know the one, your grandmother used to do it when right before correcting your potty-mouth: "I hope you didn't learn that at school..."

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

You're My Obsession ...

I can't stop watching Most Haunted.

It's on the Travel Channel on Fridays and it's totally fascinating. Not that I have anything better to do on Friday nights, but even if I did, I'd drop it to watch this (or not, since they show it again on Sundays).

It's a British show and it features a plucky blonde presenter (Yvette), a steady and knowledgeable background-story man (Phil), and this fantastic medium named Derek. They go into haunted places and spend the night calling up ghosts. The show mainly focuses on Yvette ("Show yerself ... well ... I guess you're just a coward then. Come on ... DO something."), Phil and Derek, but the other members of the team (like the sound guy, the girl who carries the clipboard, the guy who works with the camera guy, but isn't afraid to spend the night alone in the cellar with a digital camera -- those kinds of folks) get a lot of fun screen time as well ("What's the hissing sound?" "That's me pissing my pants."). There's also a second medium named Ian, who is always getting "very emotional" when he talks to the spirits, but is apparently pretty handy when it comes to getting rid of them.

Derek also gets emotional, but it's usually just angry. I love it when he's shouting down some evil spirit -- "Oh, he's a bad one, he is. YOU! YOU JUST ... SHUT IT. He's trying to -- WE'RE NOT LISTENING. YOU'LL GET NONE OF THAT HERE." If you can catch a replay of the one where they're in "The Manor House" ... dude ... that's Derek at his best. It's even better than the House of Detention from Series 2.

At the end of each show they have the paranormal skeptic, who basically picks everything apart and blames it on natural phenomenon. "When Derek appears to be possessed by the spirit ... well, that could be caused by his feelings at the time." Which explains why he threw a lamp at Yvette? Gosh ...

Thursday, August 04, 2005

I'm a Pugilist Specialist

Phone call of the day:

Me: Thank you for calling [business name]. How--

Caller: I want a typewriter ribbon. I've spent 2 weeks on this and I'm not going to spend any more time looking around for one. I just want one... [here it gets unintelligible. Basically, she started slow, revved up and then took off, slurring her words together. Honestly, when callers are like that I tend to let them go. Resistance is futile.]

-finally-

Me (chirpy): Okay! I can help you with that. What model typewriter do you have?

Caller: IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT MODEL TYPEWRITER I HAVE! I JUST WANT A BLACK RIBBON! ANY BLACK RIBBON!

Me: Well, uh --

Caller: And I want to know if you're going to take a check for it.

Me: Certainly, however we do have a $50 minimum on check orders--

Caller: DON'T TELL ME THAT! THAT'S THE CRAZIEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD OF! IT'S ABSOLUTELY LUDICROUS! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT!

Me: I'm sorry that's our poli--

Caller: IT'S COMPLETELY LUDICROUS! [then she gets calm ... it's that quiet fury] I'm going to cross you off of my list [and I can hear her scratching her pen on paper] and I will never call you again for the rest of my life.

-well ... what could I say?-

Me: Fair enough.

I found out later that she had called before and she was going to re-wind the ribbon onto a spool she already had. That's dedication to a typewriter.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Oh. Who's being naive, Kay?

I've decided that from now on I'm going to speak only in movie quotes. Not that I don't already, but it's not in every conversation and I think I've built up enough of a memory-library that I have one for any occasion.

Why, just recently I was using Don Corleone's "You can act like a MAN!" when speaking of a co-worker. It was quickly followed up by "You're just not a war-time consigliore, Tom." That can work for a whole mess of conversations, really, provided you change out the "Tom" to suit your immediate needs ... unless you're using it for someone named Tom. Same goes for "Paulie" (or insert name here) "you won't see him no more."

The cousin/roommate is fond of the "Yeah. I used to be a salesman. It's a tough racket" (swig) from Glengarry Glen Ross. I've tried that one at work ("Yeah. I used to work internet retail...") but no one got it.

Which brings me to the biggest downfall of this plan. If no one gets it then I'll have to stop and explain (as I frequently do) and I can't think of a single movie line that will explain the use of movie lines.

Which made me think of Diner ("Do you ever get the feeling there's something going on that we don't know about?" "Do you get the feeling she gave me a fake name?") and the kid that went around quoting from Sweet Smell of Success all the time ...

Which made me realize that the plan was pretty stupid.

And it's even worse to blog it. Like this is some milestone.

I blame the allergy medication and the booze. ("Neely, you know it's bad to take liquor with those pills.")