Tag Archives: Movies

B Movie

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This might be the first entry that I’ve written before noon. It’s a little after 10:00 Sunday morning. I just got back from getting bagels and the papers. I get a call from Bill as I walk back to the apartment. He’s on a bus with his mother going to church, I’m on the street.

We’re talking about various trivial things, when Bill mentions that he went to see Slumdog Millionaire with his old friend, Fred. Bill’s known Fred for almost 20 years he says.

And as from what I wrote yesterday, I wanted to see Slumdog Millionaire. It’s not so much that Bill saw Slumdog Millionaire with Fred, it’s more that I have to be content with 5 minutes a day with Bill if I’m lucky.

I have to be content with Bill running off trying to further his acting career. Going to readings and practices, rehearsals and auditions while I sit at home hoping that he gets home safely, and by home I mean Stuyvesant Town. I support Bill in these endeavors, but just wish we could spend more time together.

The phone call on the street ended rather abruptly and I sent him a text saying that “I’m hurt and pissed”. His reaction? He called me, ‘Well you saw the Wrestler at Pedro’s house and I wanted to see that with you’. I explained that it was at a party and there were other people involved.

‘Well you could have said that you didn’t want to see that. You could have asked for another movie’ I explained again there were other people there and it wouldn’t be right for me to say, ‘Hey I want to see this with my partner, perhaps we could watch another movie?’

That night in Otisville we watched a boxing match, Gran Torino and The Wrestler. You could tell by the testosterone in those viewing choices that a romantic plea would not have gone down well. I did tell him when I got back that I would like to watch it with him but no plans were ever made.

‘Well you do things on your own. You go to art galleries on your own.’ I tell him I go to art galleries on my own because he’s rehearsing with his band, or has voice classes or whatever he does on Saturday afternoons that I am not privy to. And I would rather go to the galleries with someone.

I was surprised that he was upset with me because I was pissed off. He also told me he went to see The Wrestler on his own anyway. I do not like going to movies by myself. In his mind I think he feels I should be happy to be able to see him when I see him for those fleeting minutes.

And in those fleeting minutes, when I am on my way home, bundled up for the winter weather, he comes out in office wear, no coat, maybe a hat which when he goes out to see me is not enough to guard against the cold weather. So I only get a few minutes.

We don’t make the time to do anything together anymore. He has his things to do, sometimes for his career, sometimes just for a lark and I hear about it the next day. He seems to think that I want to monopolize his time and I certainly do not.

I just want to find time that might last for a few hours rather than a grouping of seconds. To his credit, he did offer to see Slumdog Millionaire with me but I told him no, that it was tainted. Plus to see movies nominated for an Academy Award is fun for me at least, but after the fact it sort of loses it’s cache.

I suppose I could wait for it to come on cable, but who knows? I’m not interested anymore really.

It’s not about the movie, it’s about the time spent.

So Glad To See You Here

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Well it was back to work today after a three day weekend. It wasn’t so bad. I knew I had to do it. Still buzzing after The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Called up brother Frank to talk to him about it, but he wasn’t in, instead I had a long talk with Elaine, his wife. It was just about everything that Annemarie had told me the night before, angioplasty, breaking and entering, things like that. Not my bag so it’s not for me to write about though I do think Elaine will be fine regarding the angioplasty and in any event, my thoughts are with her.

Last night I watched TV, Daily Show, Colbert Report and a documentary on Ray Charles. After that I read, and eventually went to bed. Got up on time, did the routine and was on the bus reading a book about the last 5 years of John Lennon’s life, called Nowhere Man. I bought it cheap yesterday while wandering about the Village. It seems trashy though it had a good blurb from Allan Jones, the editor of Uncut magazine. So far I don’t feel dirty while reading it like I have when reading other books about famous people.

Today at work I was rather busy, errands and other things that got me out of the office, and I was able to use the fact that something that had to be hand delivered was right near the Path train in the Empire State Building and therefore enabled me to leave early to drop it off. That was cool. I also bought a pair of slippers since the pair that my sister got me a few years ago are no longer fluffy, they’ve gone flat. Dearfoam slippers for $8.00 was a bargain though I felt guilty about not wearing the older slippers. I get attached to things sometimes, emotional memories, even though my sister ordered them from a catalog, and they were shipped from LL Bean, my sister never touched them at all, just pointed and clicked online. Still the attachment was there. I haven’t thrown out the slippers yet.

I had an idea for a movie about someone like me who runs into someone not seen for about 10 years. In the movie, my character 10 years earlier, while drunk in a bar make a friend promise to kill him if he’s ever seen wearing a suit and tie to his job. Now the friend shows up, willing to fulfill his promise. Hilarity ensues hopefully. Two guys hanging out in a dive bar, jeans and t shirts talking shit, years pass, one of the guys realizes that the money is where the suits are and easily adapts. The other guy hangs in there, wearing the jeans and t shirts, not making much money. What do you think?

Here’s another idea, another guy, like me, feels somehow plugged into a spiritual network around town. He recognizes things like witches and things like that, how certain witches don’t cross bodies of water, either a puddle or a stream or a lake. Somehow they get around it. Meanwhile our hero, me, make his way through life observing the everyday occult events going on around him. I know, needs work. Needs a plot more like it. Well, you know, that if these 2 concepts make it to the big screen without my input, you’ll just know they’ve seen it here first.

Fidel Castro resigned, which makes me wonder when all the Cuban expatriates, will repatriate. Time to snap up property in Union City, he said tongue in cheek. Bush is demanding democratic elections, as if he knew what that was. I think it would be funny if they went Muslim and voted for an Islamic theocracy.