May 25, 2003
"Are you sure he's a grown-up?"
After a breakfast of green chile, eggs, potatoes and multiple cups of coffee, I was sitting at the kitchen counter subjected a friend's 11-year-old son to a Benzian stream of unconsiousness. He looked at me, bufuddled, then turned to the other adults in the room, and asked:
"Are you sure he's a grown-up?"
Everyone laughed, but no one came to my defense.
11-year-old Trey: 1 Benz: 0
Posted by Bob Benz at 11:11 AM | Comments (3)
May 17, 2003
Those rambling blues ...
I've been on a business travel binge for the past few weeks. Always enlightening/maddening/frightening. A few highlights:
-- I advocated cannibalism at a conference of Internet types in San Diego. Actually, I mangled a quote from a newspaper company exec who once said: "If Bill Gates is going to eat your children, it would be better to eat them yourself." I mumbled something about eating children as several hundred folks in the audience looked in bewilderment. I quickly corrected, stating explicitly that neither I nor my employer advocates cannibalism. Reminded me of that Python skit about cannibalism in the British Navy. Quite amusing ...
-- San Diego is really beautiful. We hit it when it was cold and rainy. And it still impressed. Wish I had stayed through the weekend, as I'd originally intended. But I knew I had to go to Chicago on Monday and wanted some home time ... But San Diego: I shall return.
-- If all I believe is proven wrong, the Baptists prevail and I'm sent screaming to hell, I really think damnation will prove to be a never-ending shuttle between Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport and Chicago's O'Hare, with a 4-hour layover in each one. Just to break up the monotony, I'll get diverted to DFW every fifth flight and have to ride that stupid damn train to go from one concourse to another. And on each of my flights, Jerry Falwell will be sitting fatly in the seat next to me. Maybe I'll go to church tomorrow ...
-- Got tanked with a buddy at The Loon in Dallas. Very cool bar. One of those places where you wince when someone enters, explosing the dark, dank interior however briefly to the harsh light of Texas. They also serve some mighty fine food. Also got to see an NBA playoff game during that trip. Mavs beat the Trailblazers. I hate hoops in general, but I like going to games. (I have the same stand on baseball; it's insufferable on TV, but live, with beer, hotdogs and sunshine, it's a blast.)
-- Great Loon scene: Talking to a pair of good friends, one of whom is pontificating on some fine point of online business tactics. Next to him: A beautiful, 20-something of Asian descent, who is drinking with her 20-something boyfriend. As my friend is rambling forward, he turns in her direction, catches a full glimpse of her radiance and comes to a violent halt mid-sentence. His train is derailed. Wes and I start laughing, loudly, and the Lady of the Loon mistakenly thinks the joke's on her. We had some 'splainin' to do, but I think we made her understand.
-- I know this sounds strange, but I like Dallas. Geographically, it has nothing. Just a flat, sprawling metroplex. But it is a great place to do business, and the city really isn't too bad. It has attitude and a Texas twang.
-- I also love Chicago, but never escaped the suburban sprawl around O'Hare on this trip. Did have dinner at a great allegedly mob-owned Italian place, Nick's. And we had a cab driver who confidently took us to the wrong hotel initially after I asked him if he was sure he knew which one. When I demanded he knock that part of the fare off, he asked in a resigned manner: "OK. How much do you want to pay?" I told him, paid him and then tipped him well for not being as big an asshole as I was ...
-- Athens, Ohio, is nowhere. Literally. It's near nothing, lost in Appalachia. I hate going there but love being there. It's a great little town. I decided to try to find a shorter way to get there this trip and spent several hours meandering along Kentucky backroads that didn't even remotely behave in the way my mediocre map said they should. I felt like a twisted 21st century explorer, trying to find a place to ford the Kentucky River and advance north into Ohio. On the way home, I submitted to Mapquest's advice and drove all the way over to Cincinnati, then down to KnoxVegas. It was shorter than my shortcut ...
-- Next up: Atlanta, Cincinnati, Las Vegas, in that order. The Vegas trip is likely to destroy my hopes of attending joannie's pickin' party, the fiddle-driven event of the season. Damn. Maybe I'll at least get a segment on Taxicab Confessions while I'm in Las Vegas, but given the mundane nature of most of my business trips, I doubt I'll make the cut.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:33 PM | Comments (2)
May 16, 2003
The Dead Walk
Bought this book by Andy Black on zombie films with high hopes. Mostly, those hopes were dashed. It's poorly edited (though he has the audacity to thank his proofreader in the credits -- he should flog the proofreader). Too much plot summary, not enough analysis. His read on Romero is generally on target but superficial. Though I do think he hits Argento right on, and he does include plenty of detail on Cemetery Man (Dellamorte, Dellamore). Nice to see the greatest zombie movie ever made get some credit. Rent this film if for no other reason than to marvel at the beauty of Anna Falci. Wow. He also mentions Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things, another of my favorites.
My main complaint is that he spends too much time on stuff that really isn't "zombie." Plan Nine from Outer Space, etc. If it doesn't eat flesh, it ain't a zombie, dude.
Instead of buying The Dead Walk, go out and rent Cemetery Man and Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things. Buy a six pack of beer. Walk with the dead ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 9:09 PM | Comments (0)
May 13, 2003
Pigpen's baby photo
That photo of Pigpen made me tear up. What a happy little guy. Why can't our dog children live as long as we do?
Posted by Bob Benz at 1:41 PM | Comments (1)
May 8, 2003
More words of inspiration from 1960s icons....
This is along the lines of that fab paragraph Bob excerpted from the Woody Guthrie book. I interviewed Tom Robbins last week, he of the mangled metaphor and unrelentingly flower-child world-view. I asked him where a guy like him fits in the age of Donald Rumsfeld, Dixie Chick persecution and a generation of 20-year-olds who support the latest U.S. war. Without hesitation he said: "It's about NOT fitting in. The important thing is, I don't fit it.... there is great joy in not belonging."
Posted by Bob Benz at 4:54 PM | Comments (4)
May 4, 2003
Bound for Glory
I just finished reading Woody Guthrie's biography, Bound for Glory. Highly recommend it. It started kinda slow, with a lot of detail about young Woody's trials and tribulations in Oklahoma. He weathered a lot of sorrow early on. It's surprising he didn't become bitter. And giving his street-fighting ethic as a kid, it's also surprising what a peaceful, tolerant adult he grew into. I particularly like a scene where he's playing in a bar on the West Coast at the outbreak of World War II. Patriotic fervor is running high among everyone, Woody included. But when a mob starts attacking a Japanese-American's bar, Woody and a bunch of military folks rally to their defense. There are countless scenes like that. And he has a real gift for language (not to mention songwriting.: Another great scene is when he drifts from West Texas to California on the hope of a better life with relatives. He gets to the house, looks inside at the stifling, stable existence within and walks away, even though he's famished and his clothes are hanging off him. Better to follow his muse than succumb to the routine of middle class life.
"When I stood there on top of the hill and listened to that iron gate snap locked behind me, and looked all down across the roofs and church steeples and chimneys and steep houses of Sonora, I smelled the drift of the pine rosin in the air and watched a cloud whiff past me over my head, and I was alive again."
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:02 PM | Comments (1)