Monthly Archives: February 2009

Things Can Only Get Better

Well it’s Monday again and I’m back to posting at the usual time. Yesterday was an early posting, before noon. Before 11:00 even. I was fired up and was able to write over 600 words in about 20 minutes. Relatively lucid writing I think.

After I wrote I spoke to my sisters, Annemarie, the white one and Billie in DC, the black one. Both were very supportive and listened to my side of the story. If you want Bill’s side of the story, you would have to ask him.

The day progressed and I went out for a bit, in the rain. Not as weird a day as Saturday turned out to be. Though things on Saturday night were better than during the day. My friend Lois has a show coming up called ‘Is That Supposed to Be Funny?’ and she needed a photograph for the poster.

Lois DiLivio in 'Is That Supposed to Be Funny?'

Lois DiLivio in 'Is That Supposed to Be Funny?'

She came over and we talked listened to music, and even played some music a little bit. She told me of a project that she has with Rand and I immediately suggested doing ‘How Many More Times’ (or a rip off of that). I picked up the bass and did my best John Paul Jones/Duck Dunn impersonation, playing the initial notes.

Of course they weren’t the proper notes as Lois pointed out, but she got the feeling I was putting into it and she listened when I said, ‘So what if it’s not the right notes? If that’s the case, then I have written a new song!’

So maybe, and a really big maybe at that, who knows? I might play along with Rand and Lois at an open mike somewhere down the line. Rand on trombone, Lois on ukulele and Lisa doing some vocals as well as blowing bubbles.

That would be for the cover version of Don Ho’s Tiny Bubbles. Which I just figured out went ‘Tiny bubbles, in the wine’ rather than what I thought it was for maybe 40 years, ‘Tiny bubbles, tenderloin’.

We took about 17 pictures with various props that I had around the apartment. It was great having Lois over for a visit. Since Juan is down in South Jersey, no one comes to visit me in my messy apartment. That brings me to Sunday’s problem which weighed heavily on my mind.

Around 4:20, yes-4:20, I gave Bill a call and we wound up talking for nearly 2 hours. Cleared a lot of things up and decided to try to make time for each other and yes, I will go see Slumdog Millionaire with him.

We wound up talking during commercial breaks on the Oscar program. Hugh Jackman was better than I expected. He was great actually. I always enjoy the Academy Awards, no matter who is hosting. Hugh Jackman mentioned rehearsing for the show the day before in his garage and jumped into the opening number which looked like it was rehearsed in someone’s garage. And Anne Hathaway was pretty funny.
Who knew she was the daughter of Mrs. Hathaway (from the Beverly Hillbillies)? Not me.

I liked the 5 previous winners of each acting award coming out and praising each nominee. Harpy hated it. I know… I called. I think it would have been better if they all talked at the same time. That would have been great.

Penelope Cruz won and she sure was pretty. Still have to see Vicky Christina Barcelona. Annemarie saw it liked it. Of course, Javier Bardem is in it. Penelope Cruz thanked Woody Allen and specifically thanked Pedro Almodovar which was a nice touch.

Tina Fey and Steve Martin came out for the writing awards and they were funny, especially with their new made up religion joke which could just as easily been Scientology.

The winner for original screenplay was Dustin Lance Black for Milk and he gave the best speech of the night, echoing Harvey Milk’s words to young gay people, telling them that they are not alone, they are not cursed. They are loved and valued.

Next came Jennifer Aniston and Jack Black who made a presentation about something standing on stage mere feet away from her ex, Brad Pitt and the woman he left Jennifer Aniston for, Angelina Jolie. Awkward! But Pitt/Jolie laughed at all the right places. I usually don’t care about those things, but I was reminded of their tabloid drama last night.

Then came a clip show of romantic scenes from 2008 which included a shot of James Franco kissing Sean Penn in Milk. Natalie Portman and Ben Stiller came out. He was made up to resemble Joaquin Phoenix and stayed in character for an awfully long 5 minutes which was 4 minutes too many. It got tired fast.

Then a Judd Apatow short with James Franco and Seth Rogan as well as cinematographer Janusz Kaminski. Very funny especially with James Franco getting turned on by another clip of his Milk character kissing Sean Penn’s Harvey Milk, then putting his arm around Seth Rogan and inching closer.

The Hugh Jackman/Beyonce musical tribute was spectacular to look at, but musically it was daft. A lyric from 20 songs intertwined by various singers was a mess. But it looked great. Then Heath Ledger won the supporting actor nod and his mom, dad and sister made a speech. Cuba Gooding’s non praise of Robert Downey Jr was ok, not that funny.

Documentaries came up and Man on a Wire, about Philippe Petit walking a high wire between Tower A and Tower B of the World Trade Center won which made me feel good since it was the only documentary I had seen. Luckily there were no shots from the documentary which had my palms sweating.

Every time Slumdog Millionaire was up for an award it won. Music, director, movie, cinematography, adapted screenplay, best ushers, ticket takers, popcorn. It won all handily. It probably would have beaten Heath Ledger if they were nominated in the same category.

Jerry Lewis came out and got the lifetime achievement award from Eddie Murphy. I think it was the first time a DC Comics character received an award. Foreign film went to Japan for Departures, which I haven’t seen.

Danny Boyle, Slumdog director followed by Kate Winslet who had a great speech, but what made her speech for me was when she tried finding her parents in the audience and got her father to whistle to show where he was. My father used to whistle like that. Brought back memories, memories of thinking that I was being treated like a dog.

Sean Penn won for Milk and he too had a great speech. It was good to see Milk getting some recognition, 2 awards. Then Slumdog Millionaire won best picture and it was all over.

It was basically the Slumdog Millionaire show with special guests, Penelope Cruz, Kate Winslet and Sean Penn. I wonder how long it will take for a TV show based on Slumdog Millionaire? Or the Broadway musical…

Me, I’m just glad that Bill and I are back on track.

Lois again

Lois again

B Movie

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.