Marc
The "K Records" Sticker Is Still Up On Our Old Door
I should know. I just drove by there. The clock's right. It's nearly 5:30 in the morning and I've just gotten home from a late night trip to Blockbuster to return both A Beautiful Mind and But I'm A Cheerleader. I'm not a big fan, I don't think, of movies that end/nearly end with speeches (in the vein of flicks like Patch Adams, Big Daddy, etc). That's not to say that A Beautiful Mind wasn't a good movie or that I didn't like it on the whole, but the end ... no. Uh-uh. They could've done better. Ron Howard, though kind of talented behind the camera, seems to me like he is incapable of directing a movie that I'd like to watch over and over again (save, of course, Willow, which I can watch over and over again only because I've been pre-programmed to over the years by living with Rick who would watch it more often than not). Once you know what happens at the end the rest of the movie becomes kind of pointless. There's not too much else to discover, I don't think. It seemed like a film with the Sixth Sense syndrome - had you into it the first time, but by the time you get to the credits you realize that you will be alright if you spend the rest of your life never having to see that flick again.
Back to my drive, though. I can't believe that Zach's K Records sticker is still on the front door of our 107 1/2 E Beaufort apartment (c.1999-2000). That thing should've been torn off ages ago but it still remains. Makes me wonder if I have any dead letters sitting on top of the ice machine down at the bar. I passed there and quite a few other places just now, though they were all so magically out of my way. I figured I should get some face-to-face time with the town that I live in but know so little about. I think I have finally decided on my favorite Bloomington-Normal street ... Jersey Avenue. It's quiet. It's residential. It's got a park off to the left when driving westbound that is lined with what appeared to be pine trees or evergreen trees. I couldn't tell exactly. It was dark. There was a quiet man sitting indian-style on one corner staring at my car as it passed him. I have absolutely no idea what he was doing, nor did I intend to find out. I also found it curious to note that the man I saw riding his bicycle eastbound on Jersey Ave. also happened to be riding westbound only minutes later on Hovey Ave. Super-human speeding skills on that one, I tell you. Super-human.
I should mostly likely hit the hay now. I can barely keep my eyes open. Mr. Costello, lead us out.
If all goes well I should have a whole slew of new albums to praise/bitch about coming soon. You can't wait, can you?
The "K Records" Sticker Is Still Up On Our Old Door
I should know. I just drove by there. The clock's right. It's nearly 5:30 in the morning and I've just gotten home from a late night trip to Blockbuster to return both A Beautiful Mind and But I'm A Cheerleader. I'm not a big fan, I don't think, of movies that end/nearly end with speeches (in the vein of flicks like Patch Adams, Big Daddy, etc). That's not to say that A Beautiful Mind wasn't a good movie or that I didn't like it on the whole, but the end ... no. Uh-uh. They could've done better. Ron Howard, though kind of talented behind the camera, seems to me like he is incapable of directing a movie that I'd like to watch over and over again (save, of course, Willow, which I can watch over and over again only because I've been pre-programmed to over the years by living with Rick who would watch it more often than not). Once you know what happens at the end the rest of the movie becomes kind of pointless. There's not too much else to discover, I don't think. It seemed like a film with the Sixth Sense syndrome - had you into it the first time, but by the time you get to the credits you realize that you will be alright if you spend the rest of your life never having to see that flick again.
Back to my drive, though. I can't believe that Zach's K Records sticker is still on the front door of our 107 1/2 E Beaufort apartment (c.1999-2000). That thing should've been torn off ages ago but it still remains. Makes me wonder if I have any dead letters sitting on top of the ice machine down at the bar. I passed there and quite a few other places just now, though they were all so magically out of my way. I figured I should get some face-to-face time with the town that I live in but know so little about. I think I have finally decided on my favorite Bloomington-Normal street ... Jersey Avenue. It's quiet. It's residential. It's got a park off to the left when driving westbound that is lined with what appeared to be pine trees or evergreen trees. I couldn't tell exactly. It was dark. There was a quiet man sitting indian-style on one corner staring at my car as it passed him. I have absolutely no idea what he was doing, nor did I intend to find out. I also found it curious to note that the man I saw riding his bicycle eastbound on Jersey Ave. also happened to be riding westbound only minutes later on Hovey Ave. Super-human speeding skills on that one, I tell you. Super-human.
I should mostly likely hit the hay now. I can barely keep my eyes open. Mr. Costello, lead us out.
If all goes well I should have a whole slew of new albums to praise/bitch about coming soon. You can't wait, can you?
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home