And I considered myself a cinephile...

I like movies. I like all sorts of movies. During the pandemic proper, when my dad and brother and I first started to get together on Zoom (later Skype), I challenged them to come up with a random prime number of favorite movies list, and then to grab screenshots of them and try to stump each other, or show off what we really connected with. I feel like a fan of the form. In high school I started my quest to visit with the oldies: I rented The Wild Bunch and Easy Rider and Mean Streets; I went to see Taxi Driver at the Tower Theater in Sacramento in 1996 when they re-released it on the big screen for its 20th anniversary.

I like documentaries as well. I love Steve James' work, and certainly saw a couple of Michael Moore's movies in the theater.

But then I read a quick blurb in a review of documentaries that should be seen. The article was about three docs that can be found on various streaming platforms, and they all sounded interesting to differing degrees. The author mentioned, near the end of their spiel, that they were sure to make time for Frederick Wiseman's "Menus-Plaisirs: Les Troisgros." They had to make sure, since it was going to leave PBS online on 4/20, all the dialogue was in French, and it was four hours long.

This movie wasn't one of their reviews otherwise, yet it was mentioned. They quickly ran down the premise: (this guy) Wiseman's look at a third-trying-to-hand-off-to-a-fourth-generation family-run three Micheline star holding restaurant in France.

Now, I have mixed feelings about cooking-related programming. As well as that, I've always been cagey about my job-status on this blog. I've never mentioned any of my actual jobs here, only alluded to aspects when it was needed for a post. Anyone can read through the 1500+ posts and see that I've never mentioned the actual job itself. 

That being said, I'll admit that at one point, I did work for a restaurant in Manhattan that was a Micheline star holding establishment. And as far as programs are concerned: I do enjoy PBS's America's Test Kitchen, but none of the competition cooking shows. I'm not a huge fan of the late Anthony Bourdain's show, but I did highly enjoy the ahead-of-its-time sitcom Kitchen Confidential, based on Bourdain's book of the same name and starring Bradley Cooper as a character named Jack Bourdain, an avatar of the source material. Pixar's Ratatouille holds a place near to my heart as one of my favorite movies, animated or otherwise.

To hear that there was a documentary based on a family's long-standing Micheline star (3!) restaurant was too much for me to decide to skip it, so I fired it up while at work. I had about four days to watch all four hours, if that was something I wanted to do. After five minutes I knew I had to see the whole enchilada.

Similar to other Wiseman documentaries (I later learned), this movie provides no voiceover, no title cards to let you know who's who, and no music. It starts as a chef and some of his acolytes are shopping at a farmer's market in Roanne, France. He runs into his brother, who is also shopping for gear. The next scene has the two boys with their father, working out menus---sauces, proteins, starches, veg, the like. The younger brother explains that a sauce isn't as complicated as it sounds as the father tries to work it out in his head (the sauce, which was to be poured over (gigantic) poached asparagus: mayo, frommage blanc (a creamy cheese product similar to cream cheese), soy sauce, elderberry vinegar and almond puree). We later see someone prepping out the garnish: shaved almonds on a mandolin (the other garnish was julienned rhubarb).

The movie travels all over central France; we see a cattle supplier, a cheese maker, a supplier of tomatoes and other vegetables; we see a convo between the dad and his sommelier concerning wines that will cost the patron 5,000 Euro, even 15,000 Euro a bottle. I learned more about calf brains than I ever knew I needed to know. It's a masterpiece. 

In the four days I had eyes on it, before I understood it was to leave PBS online, I turned my dad and an old friend onto it. I love this movie.

But then I found other Wiseman documentaries. On Kanopy (free to stream if you have a library card) one can find "The Store" and "Belfast, Maine." I fired up "The Store" the other day and was shocked by what I saw: a title card stating the name of the film, and then we're there in the store, the flagship of Neiman-Marcus to be exact, in Dallas (wait, what? I would've guessed otherwise). We see counter-people trying to sell jewelry, sales meetings, workers going about their business. No music, no voiceover, no information at all. It was released in 1983.

This was exactly the same style as Menus-Plaisirs. "Belfast, Maine" looks at a tiny cannery town in Maine: workers working, meetings happening, life trudging along.

What?

After checking into the 94 year-old Frederick Wiseman I learned a few things: he's considered an American documentary institution, his work has been hailed as a classic form of cinema veritae, even though he bristles at the label. He says that his movies, while unobtrusive and observational, and pass no judgement on its subjects, are implicitly biased, and he tries to find drama in the minutiae of each tiny scene.

Wiseman's made many, many films over the years, many breach the 200 minute mark, and many are considered masterpiece classics. He tends toward generic titles like "City Hall" and "High School," where he'll do his thing (no voiceover, music, or title cards) while looking deeply at institutions in American cities. His own release company leases the films to schools and PBS, and offers for sale many of them on their own website, Zipporah Films, named for his late wife.

I mentioned a while back about loving to learn new things. And here I am again. Menus-plaisirs translates to "small pleasures," and it may have wormed its way into my film ziggurat, into an upper echelon of my favorite movies ever. If you ever thought that Pixar's Ratatouille would be better as a documentary and set in the French countryside, this would be your evidence.

And I made it until now without learning about Frederick Wiseman?

Thoughts on "Californipithecus"

I'm not sure where I heard it---maybe an Eons video---but I heard that Gigantopithecus lasted until maybe 300kya, where the"kya" is "thousand years ago." Only 300,000 years ago?

So, the "...pithecus" suffix means "ape", and the most common word with this suffix is likely Australopithecus, the name given to a hominid genus---an ape that stood upright. Australopithecus afarensis has yielded a vast array of fossils, and even Lucy herself, the famous remains named for the Beatles song "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" is an A. afarensis.

Gigantopithecus was a rather large ape, probably the biggest ever discovered judging by the name, and looks to have resembled a huge orangutan, like a supersized orangutan crossed with a a gorilla---the hunched over knuckle walk of a big silverback with the wizened face of an orangutan. 

I was under the impression that this primate had gone extinct further back than 300kya, seeing as how us, Homo sapien at least, had arrived by then. Modern H. sapien a bit later, but still.

Then, while checking all this out, I read that some of the pseudo-science and cryptozoologists folks posit that Yetis and Sasquatches are really Gigantopithecuses that had evolved quietly on the unseen margins of our world.

They maintain that Gigantopithecus could have made the same land bridge trek over the Bering Sea, and settled in the Pacific Northwest, same as us. Their predecessors would have simply stayed in Tibet...? I guess?

Serious scientists today generally roll their eyes at this line of thought. It would have been pretty difficult for them to have left no fossil evidence from the time they otherwise disappear from the fossil record until, er, today?

Another science issue is that with the size and ambulatory nature meant Gigantopithecus---using knuckles---was essentially a quadruped and would most likely not have evolved bipedalism.

It was around here that I started learning about all sorts of our "in-between" ancestors, the branches of the bush between us and today's Pan (chimps, bonobos) and Pongo (gorillas, orangutans): Sivapithecus, Khoratpithecus, Ankarapithecus, et al...

I even found the following graphic I used to help explain that "in-between" status to Cass:

The middle two above, if you're like I ain't readin' that, are a male and female Australopithecus afarensis. They still showed signs of serious sexual dimorphism (older ape trait), but stood upright and had less splayed toes (more human-ape traits).

I thought it would be cool to think about how some sort of -pithecus may have evolved into Yetis and Sasquatches, but it's probably not meant to be.

Also, did your morning start with conversations about sexual dimorphism? I'm sure they might have!

I grew up loving Harry and the Hendersons. And I'm excited for this summer's Sasquatch Sunset movie.

Also also, I was trying to come up with a cool -pithecus name, and I'm not sure Californipithecus counts, but I like it nonetheless.

Weird Stuff with Trading Cards

So...much to Corrie's chagrin, I've passed my attention to collecting trading cards onto my son. Maybe that's just a normal thing for boys my son's age---the collecting, the information on the backs, finding players you really like.

Anyway, my boy found an old football card in one of my old baseball card stacks, and started asking about football cards. I had/have probably a thousand baseball cards, and maybe a dozen football cards. He asked why I didn't have more. I didn't really have a good answer, and eventually we started a quick Internet search for where to buy current football cards. It turns out, video game retailer Game Stop sells football and basketball cards.

We strolled down to our local Game Stop, surprised them by asking about trading cards, and left with one of the new offers: thirty-packs. Score is a brand I have in the baseball variety, and today they sell big-ol' thirty-packs. Cool, I thought.

Another brand I hadn't heard of before we got on another trip, Prestige, and they also had thirty-packs. At some other trip to our Game Stop, I picked up a third type of football card, and two types of basketball cards (one was even from Donruss, a baseball card company well represented in my collection).

But something struck me as we looked at all these cards. I make a picture to describe the situation:

Above there are only 6 cards, but I've shown both sides. There are 4 different types of football cards and 2 types of basketball cards (and one even with no color on the reverse). BUT the thing that struck me is highlighted by the yellow oval-circles: the same-logo name Panini.

I was like, Wait, what? Panini makes all the cards? Makes all the cards for different, competing brands of trading cards?

The answer, after more web-sleuthing than I cared to do, was essentially: kinda. It seemed like there were two different card-production companies---Panini and Fantagraphics (sp?)---and some reports have stated that the NFL has finished their business relationship with Panini, so maybe these are the last sets that'll be available.

Anyway, it's been interesting to try and rank all the players, all while explaining to Cass that you'll get plenty of players you've never heard of, despite getting a Travis Kelce in his first football pack and a Nikola Jokic in his first basketball pack.

More junky scraps of paper to frazzle mama-bear.

Wondercon 2024

It was eight years ago, back in 2016, before Cass was born, that I first attended Wondercon. It was also the only time. It was an adventure.

The motivating factor was the chance to see the Valiant panel, and get a Wondercon-exclusive comic. I even picked up a gold-covered edition to boot, all for free. Well, the gold-covered one was free, not sure about the other one. Anyway...

...The motivator was the same, only the company was different. The head-honcho, though, was not. And, this year, the convention was in Anaheim instead of DTLA:

The Anaheim Convention Center is a massive, world-class exhibition hall, and the home of Wondercon---except in 2016, when it was LA for some reason.

This year the panel I wanted to see was from the rebellious Bad Idea, a company I've mentioned more recently than that first link, headed by former nerd-boss Dinesh Shamdasani (that's the link of when I met Dinesh in LB in 2017). 

After he was ousted from Valiant by the new VC-bosses, he took some of his, er, bad ideas and started a company revolving around them. They produce good work, and I'm all in.

I kinda don't read many other comics anymore. But, in one of my occasional trips to Facebook, I noticed the Bad Idea chatter was asking if anyone going to Wondercon could pick them up the free book. 

That was the sound of a record scratch for me. Bad Idea is known to make convention exclusives for various cons (NYCC, ComicCon (SD), Emerald City (Seattle), et al), and I'm comfortable knowing I'll never get my hands of those books.

But the words "Wondercon" and "free exclusive" in the same sentence got my attention. After deciding to go alone, I got my ticket, saw my panel, got my (rad) free book, and headed home after walking around all weary, trying to get my money's worth.

The exclusive comic was a reprint of "The Hero Trade," and its prequel, "The Hero Trade 2." Thsi time they were both colored, and the cover was exclusive and shows many of the The Hero Trade universe characters, along with a few upcoming ones, appearing here for the first time.

Why is the prequel called The Hero Trade 2? Remember the name of the company? Anyway, the story is bonkers: in The Hero Trade (the first Bad Idea comic release, unbeknownst to fans and retailers alike, sparking a frenzy, as some stores may have just tossed them; they go for hundreds on eBay nowadays), the main character has Captain Fabulous (think Superman) in his trunk, and he's driving around, cutting pieces off of him to sell to underworld organizations. It's wild, dark, and a comment on the way the market treats intellectual property today. That's why that blue outline of a guy is in pieces on the cover above.

Anyway, Wondercon 2024 was a nice afternoon. I supported some small presses, got a low-priced trade paperback I wanted to read (then give to Cass), and got the exclusive book that motivated me to go in the first place.

For my Kids...

This post is for my kids. 

They're big fans of Scooby-Doo, because frankly, who's not? They've devoured most of the offerings on HBO and have circled back around to them again in their limited screen time. The voice work has remained fairly constant for something that started airing 55 years ago, what with Frank Welker voicing Fred for nearly the entirety of the time. Casey Kasem voiced Shaggy from 1969 until 2009, and returned to voice Shaggy's wealthy uncle as well as his father in what turned out to be some of his last work before he passed.

It was the animation styling that inspired me to do this, and in skimming the Internet to find the images I would use, I learned about more than I realized. I thought the animation models were pretty standard, even when they were mostly "updated". I guess all in good time.

So...I was going to start listing out the shows and movies and all, but the list was unwieldy. Let's get to some pictures. To start, the original models, and Scrappy:

These models were virtually the same for quite a while, even if most of the time Scrappy starred in a show with just Shaggy and his uncle Scooby. Later on, Daphne got in on the action, specifically with the supernatural-themed Scooby-Doo and the 13 Ghosts:

This rendition had Scrappy, Daphne with new hair, Vincent Price playing a version of himself (as a wizard), and a kid the kid-viewers could relate to named Flim-Flam (that's him in yellow above). I've seen regretfully too many of the thirteen episodes. (I could do with less Scrappy.)

Now the actual redesigns start to show up. In the 1990s, they did a kid version called "A Pup Named Scooby," and we see new versions of the characters for the first time in nearly 25 years:

We haven't seen any of those episodes. (This is the only time Fred wasn't voiced by Frank Welker up until the movie "Scoob.") I didn't even know it existed until tonight. Same thing with the next picture, another redesign, this time from 2006, for a show called "Shaggy and Scooby: Get a Clue:"

I guess the animation is "very different," but I'm not sure what to make of that. I haven't gone to find clips yet. This might be the first time that Matthew Lilliard took over the voice work of Shaggy, as Casey Kasem was pulling back from acting work for health reasons. He voiced Shaggy's wealthy uncle. Lilliard played Shaggy in the two live action movies (2002 and 2004).

Next is one of my favorite Scooby properties, a reboot I suppose, called "Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated:"

The models are basically updated versions of the originals, the story that covers the two seasons has elements of both monster-of-the-week type story along with an over-arching storyline that covers the entirety of the two seasons. This was the program that has Casey Kasem's last work before he died, as Shaggy's dad. They even busted out a reference that caused me to try to explain something that I simply couldn't:

And yes, that dude was voiced by Michael J. Anderson, the very same from Twin Peaks.

While that series was rather dark, the next series veered further toward humor and silliness, and they added another drastic redesign of the character models. This was "Be Cool, Scooby Doo:"

They kept the clothes the same, and the spirit's the same, the voices are the same, but it is far sillier. It's grown on Corrie and me in the time since the kids, especially Camille, have fixated on it. Daphne is especially weird, which has its moments.

I put the models from "Scoob" next. This was the digitally animated film that was due out in Summer of 2020 that got shelved, on and off, for a while:

I only got to see bits and pieces, but it is jarring a little. None of the regular voice actors from the shows are used. While there are a bunch of other characters from other Hannah-Barbera cartoons, I think Captain Caveman, voiced by Tracy Morgan, was my favorite. The models kinda had to to changed, as the jump in dimension forced animators' hands.

Next I grabbed a shot of the four teens in the crew from the show "Velma:"

Mindy Kaling produced the show and stars as Velma. I haven't seen any episodes, and thankfully Max doesn't put this title in the streaming line with all the other Scooby properties. Maybe because Scooby isn't involved? There's no Scooby Doo. Also, everything I've read about it basically uses it as a toilet. I've read both Norville (who doesn't like being called Shaggy) and Fred are highly unlikable characters, Daphne's vapid and sexed up, and Velma has a crush on her. Something like that. It's, eh...it's a show.

By this point, I figured I'd throw in some shots of the live-action productions. First, there was the cast from the first two films:

Then the third movie was released directly to video and was a prequel:

And, lastly, there was a web-series called "Mystery Inc." that I only heard about tonight. You can find it on Youtube. (If you follow that link, it looks like there at least a few fan-made Scooby projects. People LOVE these characters.)

One more thing: tonight I also learned some of the background of the original show. I learned how the dog's name was originally Too Much, but listening to Frank Sinatra scat "doo-be-doo-be-doo" at the end of "Strangers in the Night," they changed it. I also learned that the primary inspirations for the show were the radio serial show "I Love a Mystery" and "The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis."

I'd heard of Dobie Gillis before, and was confused for the longest time becase I thought Bob Denver was Dobie Gillis. Like, I thought that actor's name was Dobie Gillis, or whatever. I mean, he was Gilligan and all. The names just crossed me up. Plus, I was eight years old and didn't really watch Dobie Gillis. I did like Gilligan's Isle, though.

What I'm trying to get to is that Shaggy is directly modeled after Maynard G. Krebs, the character that Bob Denver played in Dobie Gillis. Fred is based on Dobie, for sure, and Daphne and Velma also have corresponding characters from that show, but Shaggy is Maynard. The use of language tics like saying "like" a lot, the goatee, the outfit, the laziness and desire to just eat instead of working. I guess Bob Denver's character was the first beatnik on US television. He played the bongos, liked jazz music, and used the slang associated with that world. I didn't know that either. 

Anyway, I found this picture online, too, just to complete the circle:

Also thought I'd share the following parody: Bendee Boo and the Mystery Crew:

Update: I just found this mockup showing the Dobie Gillis comparisons/inspirations. Scooby as a dog sidekick was taken from an animated Archie program they were looking to ape:

(New) Watch Studies

My beloved automatic wooden watch died last year sometime. It was a slow demise that started when I could no longer change the time. Eventually the mechanism stopped working all together. I had an issue before---when it had stopped working---and brought it to a jeweler/watch repair to get it fixed. 

In the end, it gave me false hope. That time, the first time it stopped working, it was because one of the metal chits that marked the hours had popped free and fallen into the gears, halting the watch. It was an easy fix: just pull the piece out, glue it back in place, and go about your business.

I like the automatic watches because they don't need batteries, they use your own body's motion to keep the main spring tight, and the main spring titrates out the energy needed to keep time through an amazing collection of precision engineering.

Anyway, when my watch died again and I took it into the guy, he said he couldn't fix it, or that it would just be easier to buy a new one and replace it (the mechanism), but in the end, it may just be easier to buy a whole new watch. I wasn't pleased with this opinion, and went looking for a second. A separate jeweler/watch repair shop was more candid. (The first guy was Cambodian; the second guy was a Slav of some kind.) He said, "Well, not to make you angry, but this is a poorly constructed Chinese mechanism, which ultimately can't be fixed. It's meant to be thrown out. I could fix it, but I wouldn't guarantee the work, because it's so poorly made. That watch, is, eh, how should we say, not very expensive?"

It was a gift, that I loved, but I understood what he meant, especially after looking at watches. Maybe $250 bucks for an automatic watch mechanism is on the low end.

But I do like to work with a watch on, and I've been trying to find something legit, that I could reasonably afford, that I could actually get repaired, and that I would like. I should really talk to Norm about all this, and he'd be a person I would contact before I made a serious purchase. Corrie told me to find something in a budget you're comfortable with that can be repaired, but do your research about it.

Corrie's dad gave me a watch from his recently deceased navy buddy to see if I could get it fixed. It's a '60s era Seiko automatic watch, with the date and day dials, which has it's charm. It can be fixed, and is at the Cambodian dude's shop. It's gonna cost almost $250 to fix, so, eh, it'll give me some time before I find something else.

And that led to this study. There are a ton of watches out there, and a ton of styles. Norm knows. I learned about the different makers of the different types of automatic mechanisms. I learned about watches that I'm not even sure how to read. I imagine you'd get used to it, but, eh:

I think...you look at the bottom?

The watches from Mr. Jones Watches are fascinating and beautiful. One of my favorites is:

The lady's foot is the hour and the ducky is the minute. A different company didn't have hands at all, exactly, but used a series of dials supported by fluid. Like...what?

If you'd like, check out their website to see how they move, finding the simulator near the bottom of the page. I thought they were interesting and cool, but I couldn't find a price. Then I did. And they're no longer on the list. They set fire to my list and laughed as they walked away to their yacht.

Anyway anyway, I also found some cheapo quartz watches from Etsy that I decided to get as a hold over until I find something that I'm looking for. (This was before Ron's navy buddy's watch finally got on the docket to get working.) I bought three, each with a different van Gogh painting as the dial, and figured I'd give one each to the kids as they got older. For the price ($50 for all three, so...), they seemed like a fun family thing that would help in the short term and not hurt in the long term.

So, action items: chat up Norm about stuff, and keep my dynamic list updated as I see fit.

True Stories Rivaling Fiction Again

On a cruise around the internet I stumbled on the cover for a comic from the 1970s:

At first I saw the blond girl, on a horse...under the title White Comanche. (Sigh) Then I read the yellow blurb on the bottom, and thought: "True story?"

And again I felt let down by my history classes over the years. But I figured there'd be information for me elsewhere if it were true.

I had never heard about Cynthia Ann Parker before. As I [[rabbit hole cliche]], I was mesmerized by the links here, by the raw Aericanism of it all.

Cynthia Ann Parker was 8 or 9 years old when she was abducted during an attack on Fort Parker, about 40 miles east of Waco today. She was one of five people abducted, and over the course of a few years, the other four were returned for ransom.

She was adopted by a family in the Nokoni tribe, a part of what white folk called the Comanche Nation. Her name became Naura, which meant "was found." In the 25 years she lived there she fully assimilated, even marrying a chief. It is said that his love for her was so great that he refused to take other brides, as was the custom.

They had three kids, her and Peta Nocona, Chief of the Nokoni, but she was forcibly separated from them when she was recaptured by the US military. She had to assimilate FOR A SECOND TIME.

She was kidnapped twice; once as a kid, and once away from her kids. Twice she had to assimilate into an unknown society.

Their oldest child was Quanah Parker. He was a leader during the Red River War and was one of the final voices to negotiate surrender. The federal government appointed him as Chief of the entire Comanche Nation, and he spent time advocating for his people, as well as other tribal organizations across the southwest. After he died in 1911, the title of his role was changed from Chief to Chairman, which is why he's known as the "Last Chief of the Comanche."

Pretty crazy, right? Little girl abducted, becomes part of the tribe, abducted again, her son becomes the primary emissary for the Native Americans in the American southwest.

That's a pretty cool movie right there...maybe a little long...maybe a prestige show on Peacock. 

That's what I was thinking. What a weird American story. You can see the Dances With Wolves inspirations, it seems. I guess John Wayne's classic The Searchers is also about this story.

But wait, wait, wait...

Quanah Parker, the last name taken from his mom, Cynthia Ann Parker, the White Comanche from the comic. She had been a little girl when she was abducted from...Fort Parker, 40 miles east of Waco.

WAIT: A little girl with the same last name as the Fort was abducted, and then...nobody ever came to buy her safety? Like we need more evidence that this world is hard. But, like, what the hell's going on there?

Fort Parker was named for John Parker. Things go bonkers around here. John Parker was many things in life. He was the paternal grandfather to Cynthia Ann Parker. He was a soldier for the Continental Army during the Revolution.

Born in 1758 in Baltimore County, John Parker came from a large family. They moved from Maryland to Virginia when he was a boy, and he grew up scouting the Kentucky and Illinois territories as a pioneer with Daniel Boone. When war broke out with the British, he fought as a Patriot on the western theater. 

He was rewarded for his service with land grants in the Illinois territories, soon to be admitted as a state, and there he started his own family. His first---of eleven---was born in 1781, and became a religious leader in his own right.

So, now some new names enter the story. Stephen F. Austin shows up. This story is wild! Stephen F. Austin is seen as the Father of Texas, in that he is the main guy bringing Anglo-Americans into the Mexican state of Texas.

[Sidenote: America, man! Okay: Mexico got its independence from Spain in 1821. Their state of Texas was dangerous country on account of the natives. Moses Austin, born in 1761 Connecticut, and later lead magnate living in Missouri, strikes up a deal for a land grant with the new Mexican President. The prez was all about it: let some white folks be a buffer between them and the natives. Moses dies before he could see it through, but he urged his boy, Stephen F., to keep up the work.

That's just what he did. He lead people from Missouri into northern Mexico to colonize it. Once it was settled, they eventually demanded autonomy, and won some level sovereignty. What I didn't know: Stephen F. Austin lobbied in Mexico City for their white colonists to be able to keep their slaves. Mexico had abolished slavery by 1829 (mostly), and this was a major issue for Austin.]

Anyway, to get back to it, Stephen F. Austin heavily recruited John Parker to become on of his Texan colonists, Texians and they called themselves. Eventually he agreed, and moved with large segments of his family in Illinois to the new Fort Parker in central Texas. He negotiated with one of the local tribes for mutual safety and benefit, but other Comanches weren't going to honor a thing they weren't consulted on. That leads us to the Fort Parker raid.

During that raid John Parker was killed. Many of his children and grand children were either killed or taken. Most brought back. 

Not Cynthia.

So...

This guy's great-grandfather fought in the Continental Army:

How much more American could we make this story? This connects the American Revolution with Old West. I'm sure this can't be the only link.

Anyway, it sure looks like John Parker killed lots of natives in his life. With the raids during the Revolution---the western front was mainly British and native allied groups---and later raids against the Cherokee while living in Georgia, his total was probably high. Maybe this is the key to whatever American is: the beginning of a story can change so much before it ends. 

So, what, is Apple+ biting yet? Multiple seasons or eight feature length stories?

Seen in the Neighborhood

What a time to be alive! It was reported recently that for the first time since the late 1970s vinyl records will outsell CDs. How cool, I remember thinking. But I don't own a record player, and while I listened to CDs in my old car, my new car isn't equipped, and if not for a Christmas present for Cass (a boombox, baby!) we wouldn't have a CD player around either.

In our building there used to be a comic shop. Pour some out for Atomic Basement. After Mike shut it down in moved The Cypher on Elm, a clothing and skaters-sundry store. They moved out and in moved the instigation for this piece: Foot Work Records.

I made up a little diagram to illustrate this phenomenon:

Checking the legend makes this point clear. We live at the star, and in our building is Foot Work Records:

They weren't open today, or at least in the early afternoon. Now, if we walk up Elm we find the next closest little circle, the yellow record from the legend, a tiny spot called the Record Box (sorry, link's Instagram only):

Walking up Elm to 4th and turning right, we get to the largest spot in the quartet, Long Beach icon Fingerprints:

The furthest record spot on the map, Bagatelle's, is just across Atlantic from us, and is about 1000 feet away:

It's an institution in the downtown community and was old when we moved here 13 years ago.

How cool is it that within a rectangle that makes up just over 3% of a square mile (sounds weird, but I calculated it) there are four different independent record sellers? Pretty cool...I'm sure, even if records aren't one of my compulsions...

(My assistant on my photo recon mission gets herself in a few of the pictures above...)

Happy St. Paddy's 2024

I got off work early on Friday and so was able to take Cass to his swim lessons. Afterwards, instead of zooming straight away to get Camille, we stopped by Dave and Busters, the location that Corrie has been taking him to on Fridays. Instead of video games, we talked sports. It was pretty cool:

But the beer drinking is part of my, er, discussion about St. Paddy's (or, as Corrie lovingly refers to it around here, St. Daddy's Day).

I had a beer as we watched college basketball and ladies beach volleyball. Is it always booze for the 'Irish' is us? Maybe...

Today, as Sundays are usually labeled, is a work day for me.  Laundry, grocery shopping, farm-box ordering and menu-listing bookend the work I do at home for the J-O-B.

So, oddly enough, Camille came with me to do laundry today:

I'm usually on my own for the washing and drying. It takes barely an hour, and once I get home, Corrie and I fold it all in a half-hour. So much better than taking over the laundry room in our building for the entire day.

Anyway, Happy St. Patrick's Day! In the past I've typed about the background of the day and the legends that surround the people claimed as the patron saint of Ireland. Today, though, is about chores, playing games with kids (Cass is setting up Catan right now!), cooking corned beef (it'll be ready in a few hours!), watching the Beer Baron episode of the Simpsons, and possibly getting in a few drinks in between.

Be safe out there!

Learning Something Everyday

I pride myself in my ability to be open to learn new things, to have my world rocked whenever necessary. Like the other day a few weeks back when I learned about Norval Morrisseau and his works. This moment is in that same vein: an artists came known to me today: Wadsworth Jarrell.

A Black American from Georgia, born in 1929, had his arts education in Chicago in the '50s, co-founded AfriCOBRA in 1969 (the African Commune of Bad Relevant Artists) and painted works like this, called "Revolutionary:"

The kaleidoscopic colors! The words! Angela Davis! If you can see close-up, you can make out quotes by Angela Davis herself, Malcolm X, and other quotes from the Black Panthers in general among the rest.

I'm sure there are plenty of cool stuff by people I've to hear about. But inspiration should be shared. This also looks somewhat lije an arruffato work, as here we can see how it may have come together:

As always, I'm enjoying expanding my horizon...

So...I Watched David Lynch's "Dune"

As a kid I always remember seeing the VHS cassette for Dune at the video store each Friday when we'd go looking for rentals. Pizza and a movie night, a tradition we're kinda/sorta maintaining with our kids. 

Anyway, I remember thinking it looked so cool, or weird, or serious, as the dude from Twin Peaks was young and had some thingy in his nose. Plus his eyes were blue...like the cornea was blue. I remember hearing that a drug turned eyes blue...or something.

My understanding was suspect, but, as it turns out, not so bad for a kid.

But the movie remained a mystery to me until a few days ago. I watched a Ted Talk episode of "Why You Should Read..." about Frank Herbert's "Dune", and it touches on the many books Herbert wrote about the world he created and built up. It shed more light on it than I understood beforehand. To wit:

One thing I remember about thinking was weird about Star Wars was: Hey, this guy (Han Solo) is from a planet called Corelia, and Princess leia is from Alderaan, and Luke Skywalker has been living in Tatooine. But they all look like they could be from Indianapolis. Or Malibu.

I asked my dad about it and he laughed said something like, "Right?" He went on to explain that at least Star Trek had an episode that spoke to why the dominant types of beings were bi-pedal, nitrogen/oxygen breathing, 1.5 to 2 meter tall beings. Star Wars was more of a mythology class set against a space western.

Which brings us to Dune, or Frank Herbert's main conceit: The reason the beings all look human is because THEY ARE HUMAN. It takes place about eight-thousand years in the future, in year 10,191 (or something). I heard somewhere---NOT in the 1984 movie---that humans and AI had a war, that ultimately lead to humans moving on from computers in general.

A few thousand more years in the future, and humans have colonized three separate planets. One where the emperor lives, one that produces their very important societal commodity, and another where one of the two Houses lives.

Maybe it was a good waiting until I was this-old to watch this movie for the first time, and especially before we watched the new version in both parts.

But...is it surprising that it's basically about money and power? There's the greasy gingers (House Harkonnen), the nominal good guys (House Atreides), and the emperor who's a puppet of two different groups: some magical lady group, and the vagina-mouthed floating slug beings.

The important societal commodity is a dusty spice that's mined on the mostly inhospitable sand planet called Arrakis (AKA Dune). The spice can get you high, but it also powers the space-ships and allows faster-than-light travel. Pretty nifty. While using it will stain corneas blue, just being on the planet long enough will have the same effect, as the saturation level is reached in a few months due to microscopic particles in the air.

Those details were all new to me. Watching it felt like, though, while it was a neat sci-fi conceit, it was basically House Musk vs House Bezos vs Planet-Wide Union Organizer.

SPOILER ALERT: at least the organizers won.

I'm curious to see how the new movies deal with the real/fake messiah storyline, and how they handle the worm-riding, but at least I have a handle now on the characters and plot threads. Also, being as old as I am now meant that I could handle the more incoherent parts...like:

Ehhh...WTF?

The Art World's Wild North

My favorite app on my phone is the DailyArt app. The Polish-run app delivers a single work each day to your phone, along with a story about the piece, the artist, the era, or most often, some combination of the three. It has kept the fires of my art-lust going for a few years now.

It was through the app that I found a painting that has since become one of my favorites (a work I even mentioned before), Afterglow, by Norwegian-born American artist Jonas Lie, a painting of New York from the harbor (or one of the rivers):

But the connection of the north got me feeling the connection between that painting and the works of Norval Morrisseau, an artist I just learned about. Not that they're stylistically similar, because they are decidedly not. Mainly because I can't stop looking at them or thinking about them.

Or about the bizarre story of fame, fakes, fraud, first-nations people, and gangsters that inhabit the world of Norval Morrisseau.

"Artist and Shaman Between Two Worlds" 1980

Morrisseau was born on March 14th, 1932 on the Sand Point Ojibwe reserve in Ontario. He, like so many natives of the era in both Canada and America, was taked from his reserves and placed in boarding schools, forced to learn English/French, assimilate religions, and ignore his heritage.

Working later in life

Instead of forgetting everything, he merged his Anishinaabe beliefs with the western artistic vocabulary he was forced into at a young age and synthesized something new, something powerful.

If that was the end of this story, it would be compelling enough for me. I enjoy getting lost in amazing works of art. But it gets crazy.

Today, Morrisseau is widely recognized as the grandfather of indigenous art in Canada, and has been called the "Picasso of the north" when his works were exhibited in France and Italy. His rise to fame in the 1960s led to the trappings you may expect: parties, drugs, excess, et al.

Times were fun, followed by times that were hard, and sometimes decisions were made that could benefit people close to Norval. Maybe it was the occasional signing of a painting that wasn't his to help a cash strapped loved one; maybe it was helping out a crew of gangsters out of Thunder Bay on Lake Superior with some forgeries or fakes.

Eventually things got out of hand. The whole story is available in documentary form, and in book form, and I saw it all in an article in the Smithsonian but: in the end there were THREE separate rings of fake Morrisseau production companies---three separate entities producing high-level fakes of Morrisseau works, none of which he knew about or sanctioned.

It looks like, before they were all broken up, these groups possible produced over $100 million for themselves (of which Norval got exactly zero dollars), and over 200 paintings were sold and shipped worldwide. This whole enterprise turned into the biggest art fraud ring(s) in history, which is saying something. Disputed Morrisseau works have been found everywhere from private collections (natch) to the Smithsonian itself and the Canadian Parliament building in Ottawa.

In another bizarre twist of this story, Kevin Hearn, keyboardist for the Barenaked Ladies (composers of the theme song for The Big Bang Theory, among other things), upon learning that his Morrisseau painting was a fake, set about an odyssey with his lawyers to investigate and bring down the rings that were profiting off of these forgeries.

That's not a misprint: the keyboardist from the Barenaked Ladies and his lawyers performed the work of a police procedural---doing the legwork---that brought down three separate, unaffiliated, international forgery rings.

This seems ripe for a dramatization, or true crime miniseries on HBO, doesn't it?

In any case, I can't stop looking at these paintings, and this whole saga has set up shop in my brain. It reminds me a little of what the opening chapter of Gould's Book of Fish emphasizes: the story is more important than the artifact. That may be true with junky trinkets being sold as fake objects, but with these paintings, the story is just as compelling, which isn't always the case with amazing art.

Leap Day 2024!

We made it to another arbitrary calendar phenomenon: the Leap Day. February 29th is the day added every four years--but not for years ending in 00, unless preceded by a divisor of 4--too much math!

We had a dog that was born on February 29th, but back in 1984. Sadly, and obviously (right?), she's no longer with us.

Here are some other posts about this topic I've done over the years:

• 2012
  
• 2016
• 2020

Sheesh, been doing this a while.

"Ben Hur" for Corrie's Birthday

Ben Hur! Yes! Ben Hur, but not the Charlton Heston movie, not any of the movies over the years, or even some other type of performance based on Lew Wallace's 400+ page book. (I hadn't known that Ben Hur (the book), written by former Civil War general Lew Wallace, became a best-seller, and by 'best seller' we mean the top selling book ever in America from the time of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" to "Gone with the Wind,"  a span of forty years of title-holding for Big Ben.)

No, for us, Ben Hur was the Long Beach Playhouse show, an ensemble of six actors (two understudies and four speaking roles), itself a play-within-a-play. See, the idea that "all 9000 speaking roles from the sweeping epic book" (as quoted during a fourth-wall break in the opening few seconds) would be performed by only four actors is kind of the whole joke. The main conceit of this performance is that "Daniel Veil" has adapted, directed, choreographed, and stars in the epic "Ben Hur," and his troupe, the Daniel Veil Theater Collective, fills out the other characters. There's "Crystal Singer" playing the Girl, but really she's playing all lady characters (except Judah and Messala's mom), and she's the love interest for Daniel Veil himself, only the feelings aren't reciprocated.

"Omar Lord" is the name of the young man playing Messala, Jesus, and a whole bunch of other characters. Rounding out the quartet is "Edgar Chesterfield," an older actor playing, well, any old character they need, including the Hur (and Messala's adoptive) matriarch...despite the goatee.

Despite the tongue-in-cheek silliness, the story is pretty coherent. The lack of actors and abundance of roles is played to great effect, mostly for humor. The venue is quite small and the stage is a peninsula, jutting out from "backstage", with seats on all sides. Check out my picture below:

The seats I got were essentially front row center, with our feet chilling on the stage if we stretched our legs. Visible above is the screen that had different things projected upon it, depending on the setting of the scene. Never a group to miss an opportunity for a joke, the stills projected often had the Shutterstock watermarks left on them (or other likewise watermarking) or, like when they were back in Jerusalem, it was the establishing shot of Agribah from Disney's Aladdin.

A few of the crazy scenes from the story they retained for us were (1) the sea battle; and (2) the chariot race. The sea battle was very interactive. Before they performed the scene, the team came out to explain "Care must be taken henceforth because lives are at stake." The crowds on both the left and right sides of the stage were instructed to pantomime the rowing motion. From our seat, this looked very cool: dozens of enthusiastic people rowing. Our group wasn't set to the rowing task. Our section was itself broken into three sections, with each group shouting--in unison--a "researched and approved-upon Roman-aristocracy slur/command." For me and Corrie it was "Row! Row, you Phillistine scum!" They even had cards to be read by the rowers, some of which were "Arrgghh!!" while others were more plaintive whines.

Once it all started going, both sides rowing, our section shouting a barrage of slurs I can't remember beyond our own, the cries coming from the rowers, and the "battle" happening in the center of the stage--actors wrestling with dressed blow-up dolls--the effect was complete, and awesome. It was loud and malevolent chaos.

The chariot scene was wonderful in its inventiveness, and because it's the climax of the Judah Ben-Hur and Messala storyline, was really just them. The screen behind them played on a loop scenes from the silent 1925 version of the movie, along with a black and white car race. In the scene, the guys were riding cheapo office chairs each wrapped in an Ikea box. It was wonderful and hilarious. Kinda like Jesus ascending. Kinda like the play within the play, where Daniel catches Omar and Crystal kissing, and alost ruins the whole play.

Our play turns into the same thing Ben Hur turned into: a story about vengeance becoming a story about forgiveness.

The show was a success; funny and well-thought, while also whimsical and heartfelt. It was also Opening Night and had a champagne gala afterwards. This was a birthday present for Corrie, which made it a datenight, one of our two-a-years. It was a great evening.

Also, as it was opening night for the (super-small) Long Beach Playhouse organization, as Corrie and I enjoyed our sparkling wine and hors d'oeuvre, showing off our awesome hair, we absorbed many quizzical and funny looks. Who were these two in the front row? Who were these two chilling with us afterwards? I'm fairly sure that Corrie and I were the ONLY people at this performance unaffiliated with one the actors or with the Friends of the LB Playhouse, the financial backers of the theater. We were seen, as it were.

The actors themselves were fun and game. Grant Thackray played Daniel Veil, Devin Ricklef played Omar Lord, Amara Phelps played Crystal Singer, and lawyer-by-day Eric Schiffer played Edgar. The two "understudies" were equally funny, even with no lines. they were played by Jackie Shearn and Charlie Rodriguez. Should you recognize any of those names? I'd be shocked if you did. I put them here because there were so few and they worked so hard. 

It has inspired me to make more of an effort to see the Charlton Heston version. And to also, er, be seen again...maybe...at a tiny local theater environment? Such a vibrant thing, live theater in Southern California...

February Memories

It's been a weirdly long month. Must just be perceptions, because, this is February. And the 29th hasn't even shown up yet.

At some point Dan sent some random books. One of them, Vol 2 of the "History of Sonoma and Napa Counties," has a nice little writeup about my great-grandfather Merlin Pedrotti, and has inspired me to go drive through Duncan Mills, the town where he was born, before he and the rest of his Swiss family settled in Bolinas. Another book was this Batman deal I swiped from the Cabin:

It turns out there are a handful of reprints here, when I thought it may have been reprints of Batman newspaper strips. But this is actually reprinted issues and story-arcs from Golden Age Detective Comics and Batman issues.

We took another trip to Gaucho Beach playground. The beach area we can get to the fastest (about ten minutes) now has a playground and bar and much more advanced bike rental station. It's pretty cool:

The day was nice and blue...

Some mornings, as I'm walking to head downstairs, the sunlight fights through the cloud cover:

This has been a little more common in this year's winter time, what with the SOCIETY COLLAPSING rainstorms we've been living through. (Seriously, though...LA people...)

This February has been full, and last night Corrie and I had our datenight; we went to the performance that I got as a birthday for her. I'll write that up separately. 

Anyway...all threads tend to get lost at certain times of heavy attention and work. Love you, everyone!

February Birthdays

Last year we hosted the first party for our daughter in her brief life, as the pandemic shut things down weeks after she was born and parties took a back seat to safety in the ensuing years. 1st Birthday parties are for parents anyway ("Yay! You survived! And so did the baby!"), and, you know, we already had our 1st Birthday party.

This year Camille wanted just to hang out with her friend Lili. JUST Lili. And they were going to do nails and makeup and run around and have fun. Why force an elaborate party when the little girl just wants some alone time with her bestie?

I took Cass on walkabout and visited some bookstores and comic shops in the exotic hinterlands of Pasadena while Corrie hung out with Lili's mom, the girls, and Lili's baby sister. It was more time in the car than I would have guessed.

The next day was Corrie's birthday, and this time we all got to do something. Corrie had been wanting to use her roller skates (a birthday present from me a couple years back), and this was the perfect opportunity. We all went rollerskating, and it was great. I used my kitchen legs to great effect and never actually fell. Corrie and Lauren spent the first half of our time with Camille while I helped Cass.

It had a roof, but it was an open air area. Other friends came along as well, and we all enjoyed the looping exercise.

It was nice to get out and move around. It was nice to see Corrie enjoying herself and her skates on her day. With no football that weekend, it was great just to be out trying to experience the world, and to celebrate another go-round for Camille and Corrie. 

Happy Birthday, babes!

Wait...Christopher Walken played a Bond villain?

Alternate title for this post: "This is What a Useless Rabbit-Hole Tumble Yields."

So...it started when neither Corrie nor I could remember the name of the actress who played Miracle Max's wife in "The Princess Bride." I could se her in my brain, see other movie's she's been in ("My Blue Heaven", "Scrooged") but her name escaped me.

It drove me nuts for about six seconds, as I went to find my charging phone and look it up. Carol Kane. Of course, duh. Geeze...old/dad/teacher/booze-connoisseur brain.

But among the names and pictures on that online list was an actor in a military beret, in black and white:

The actor who played the King in "The Princess Bride" had been a decorated war veteran. That made sense, as many of the dudes playing old guys in the '80s, '90s, and early '00s had been WWII vets (like Tom Poston, et al).

I clicked on Mr. Willoughby Gray's name and read up a little about him. He starred for a time in British television in many, many shows, and would have been far more familiar to someone my age to my folks' age, had they lived and grown up in the UK.

It also said he was best know to today's audiences as the King from The Princess Bride and the former-Nazi-mad-scientist doctor and "father figure to the Walken's Bond-villain Max Zorin."

That was the record-scratch halt to my brain. Christopher Walken? Bond villain? What what what?

The year was 1985, the same year Goonies, Rocky IV, and Back to the Future came out (!!!), and the Bond "classic" A View to a Kill was released. The quotes on classic in the previous sentence are doing some very heavy lifting. "A View to a Kill" was the last of the Roger Moore appearances as the super-spy, stars Christopher Walken as the bad guy in a plot that sounds like the plot to Superman from 1978 (land speculation and attempting to destroy coastal California), and while named for an Ian Fleming stry, was a wholly original idea. (Maybe "original" idea?)

It also stars Tanya Roberts (Midge from "That '70s Show"), Grace Jones, and features the youngest Bond-girl ever in Alison Doody. This was her first role, and in between it and her breakout role as the blond Austrian Nazi-sympathizer in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" she starred opposite Pierce Brosnan in "Taffin." So...she played opposite three separate James Bonds in four years...

I still haven't seen "A View to a Kill." I'm not exactly rushing out to see it, but I may be more interested now than I had been the day before this little rabbit hole dive...