It’s Sunday night, and I just got back from the movies. I went to see There Will Be Blood. Daniel Day Lewis is of course, phenomenal. Paul Thomas Anderson is truly one of the best American filmmakers around today. I wonder if he is still with Maya Rudolph? It’s another recommended movie. Chaz and I have been planning to see this for a few weeks and finally both of us had our schedules in sync. Crowded theater too for a Sunday afternoon.
Last night I had a good time writing the blog which I hope shows. Spoke to Harpy, who was telling me about how Lois, a co-owner of Farfetched just got her first computer. So much to learn. Of course there is the initial paranoia about strangers having access to your information, but they would only have access if you put it out there. I don’t put anything out there and though I’m still wary, the Internet works out just fine, for me at least.
Harpy wanted to know about why I call this blog, johnozed instead of my real name. Well that’s because there are things that I write under my blog de plume, that I am not too keen on coming back and biting me on the arse. A lawyer friend hipped me to the fact of changing the names of some executives and companies I work for both in the past and the present, and he commended me on the pen name. So even though my real name is music to some peoples ears, I don’t need the real name to sound like a cash register to lawyers ears.
On the way home from Brooklyn last night I had stopped off at Mision Burrito for what turned out to be a very mediocre burrito. On the way through Church Square Park I passed a couple of people, one of whom I though was my other friend named Lois. I called out ‘Lois’ and the woman turned and as she turned I realized it wasn’t the Lois (or the other Lois) that I knew. I apologized and she laughed saying that I wasn’t who she thought I was either. That made us both laugh and I walked away wishing the two of them a good night.
It reminded me of how I was DJ’ing at McSwells years ago and in my clouded mind I thought I saw Raul Menares walk through the back room door. I waved frantically and as the figure approached it wasn’t Raul at all, but rather some other guy named Michael Vasquez. Michael Vasquez turned out to be a good acquaintance along with his girlfriend, who’s name escapes me at this moment. So the moral is, sometimes friendships can sprout from mistaken identities. Sometimes, not all the time of course.
There really wasn’t anything on TV last night, so as I surfed I stumbled upon Graffiti Bridge, the sequel to Purple Rain. Looking back Purple Rain is good, if only for the concert sequences, especially the sequences involving The Time. Graffiti Bridge makes Purple Rain look like a masterpiece. Even The Time couldn’t save it. I lasted about 20 minutes until the first commercial, then I bailed. Even the soundtrack is spotty. Two songs from it made it to my iPod.
I remember when Graffiti Bridge came out, I was either out of work, or off from work so I went to the first showing on the first day at the multiplex. But I wandered into the wrong theater and sat as the movie, Soap Dish was starting and it took me a while to realize I was in the wrong theater. After seeing Graffiti Bridge I wasn’t sure if I saw the correct film, and 17 years later, I’m still not sure.
And Robert Plant was in Farfetched buying wrapping paper and cards on Friday.