More Stuff I Like

I've been tearing through the leisurely pursuits lately. As soon as I finished Solomon Kane I started American Shaolin. I haven't polished books off like this since I got into a British crime noir kick a few years ago. American Shaolin is a page turner. It's like Matthew Polly went inside my head and took my dream. He took a year off from Princeton to go to China and learn kung fu from the legendary Shaolin monks. It sounds just like what my mind's eye envisioned it as. So far it's one of the best fish-out-of-water books I've read, funny and incisive. If I have one problem with it, it's that it's almost too perfect. I can't believe life could be that fun and I wonder if there's not a little creative license. In the end it doesn't matter though, it's still entertaining.

I also watched The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters the other night. Chances are you haven't heard of it but you should see it if you get the chance. It's a documentary about Billy Mitchell, the holder of the world record score in Donkey Kong and the contender for the crown, Steve Weibe. It's incredible and there were actual moments when my pulse raced. Like American Shaolin seems to good to be true, I wonder how much creative license (and creative editing) went in to making Billy Mitchell look like a giant tool.

Some Things I've Been Enjoying Lately

I've just had a two week "vacation" loosely speaking. Lisa had to have knee surgery so I took time off to help. I caught a bad case of the flu and turns out about all I helped her with was keeping her company in misery. We both laid around in pain the first week, although we were able to make it to a movie. We saw Fool's Gold. It was a cute, funny movie. The following week picked up some, saw a few more movies and watched a lot of videos.

My hit list right now consists of 3:10 to Yuma. A trend I'm glad to see coming back is the western. Lisa and I loved The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford from earlier this year. 3:10 is just a good old solid western, nothing fancy but pretty suspenseful. Russell Crowe and Christian Bale are awesome. The supporting actors are wonderfully colorful, especially Ben Foster and Peter Fonda. The end was a little far fetched but didn't ruin anything.

I also got to watch Mad Max again. I used to watch this movie once a week on the old VHS copy. It's even better with Mel Gibson's Australian accent. It was originally dubbed for the US. This is the GREATEST MOVIE from Australia EVER! Perhaps the greatest movie period!

I'm also reading The Savage Tales of Solomon Kane by Robert E. Howard. Man they don't write action adventure like this anymore, partly due to the insane racism. If you over-look that though it's just a good time. Pirates, hidden cities in Africa, an honest to God ju ju witch doctor and a musket packing Puritan with a bowl haircut, what the hell more can you ask?

Finally, I've got Train Kept A Rollin' by the Yardbirds and Joe Satriani, Rooster by Alice In Chains, Melissa from the Allman Brothers and Like a Stone by Audioslave in the heavy rotation category on the iPod. And how's this for eclectic tastes, Son of a Preacher Man - Dusty Springfeild and Mother by Danzig? I love my iPod, especially the shuffle feature.

The Kings of Yoo-Hoovius

I walked into Borders the other day and saw Creem: America's Only Rock and Roll Magazine by Robert Matheu in the new book section. It's been a while since I picked up an over sized hardcover book and bought it on the spot but I had to have this one. Creem was a life changing epiphany. Like the first time I heard Areosmith's Walk This Way on the radio. It was 31 years ago but as clear as yesterday. I was in the family Mercury station wagon at the end of a Cul De Sac in Martinsville Indiana waiting for my Dad. He was visiting a friend and for some reason (which I don't remember) I was in the car listening to the local FM station from Bloomington. All of a sudden the only rock and roll riff (with the exception of You Shook Me All Night Long) came blasting out of those tinny 4" speakers. I had no idea what "You ain't seen nothin' til your down on a muffin" meant. I just knew it was dirty and I loved it. My little innocent 12 year old mind had never been so scared and so alive. I'll always remember that as the day I discovered rock and roll. The day I lost my innocence as it were. Sure there was Maggie May and David Bowie's Fame before that but my innocence at that time was so complete that I didn't realize the concept of Rod Stewart's MILF until years later. What followed was a long spiral downhill into the wonderful, rebellious world of Rock and Roll. So after discovering the joys of Ted Nugent's Cat Scratch Fever and Prince's I Want To Be Your Lover (I know he's R&B, but his heart is R&R) I tripped across "Creem". I don't remember what initially drew me to it possibly a cover of David Lee Roth with his shirt down over his shoulder, nipple exposed, staring defiantly at the camera and the promise of a J. Geils story inside. Whatever it was, I was hooked. Lester Bangs was dead by this time but there was something compelling about his mythos that I instantly connected with. I was hooked immediately. Everything about the mag was exactly what an adolescent boy was looking for. From the "Creem Rock Shot" of Dale Bozzio to the "Creem's Profiles" spoof of the Dewars ads, the illicit thrill derived from the fact that my parents might discover what I was reading was enough of an adrenaline rush to keep me awake all night.

The hardest part of growing old is all of the first times I'll never get to experience again. I'll never hear That Smell again for the first time, I'll never see Star Wars again for the first time and I'll never get caught making out with Misty on her Mom's couch by her Mom again. I've said it before on the blog but it still holds true, I've never been happier than I am now in my life but I've also never appreciated what's gone before so much either. Boy Howdy!