POOP!

Sunny Season 4 starts tooooniiiiiight!!!

A Method Actor Prepares

Ahhhh, Premium Movie Channels. Whether or not you actually do, you have to love them. They bring you little nuggets like 10 Items Or Less when you can find nothing better to do with an hour and a half.

It wasn't anything dazzling or particularly moving; but it was enjoyable. At first glance, the movie is just satirical view into how out of touch with reality not just actors, but movie stars become; but really, it's more than that. Morgan Freeman plays the role with such grace and charm -- not an air of snottiness -- that it almost ends up being a love letter from Hollywood to the real world.

Plus, the female lead is super cute.

Here's the trailer.



I suggest you check it out on SHOHD. If you're lucky enough to get it free, like we do. If not, just rent it. Netflix it. Whatever.

Sounds Of My Life: Raining In Baltimore

I can't hear this song and not think about Baltimore.

Not because the name of the city is in the title, but because it reminds me of a very specific moment in my life that just happened to be after a 3 day stay in the greater Baltimore / DC area.

I was traveling alone back to St. Louis, sitting in the middle seat of a three-seat row; the plane was shuffling toward the runway of Reagan National when this song seeps into my earbuds ... at a moment I least needed it to.

It struck me during the opening line so violently that it took every fiber of my being not to break down, sobbing, amongst the complete and total strangers who surrounded me.

The weekend, while generally a fun trip with friends, had been such a colossal failure on so many levels. Instead of a momentary escape from the disaster that was my life back in St. Louis, it ended up being just another painful reminder of how horribly bitter and meaningless life can be.

So here I was, life in shambles; sad song stinging very much in the foreground of what already felt like such a desolate, lonely existence ... stranger in a strange town, surrounded by strangers ... rain falling outside the window, one seat over to my right, four and an aisle to my left.

It rained, snowed, sleeted, every day that weekend; from the day I arrived up until well after I left.

Even if I wanted to skip the song over, I couldn't. The moment seemed too appropriate to ignore. The plane nosed homeward, no ... a house no longer a home. The moment suddenly was a glaring reminder of how I had to contend not only with my own heartbreak, new found borderline addictions, past failures and regrets, but also the heartache of knowing that it wasn't only my relationships that weren't immune to such devastation.

It represented the perfect moment of uncomfortable, unwarranted, unwelcome solitude; so eerily in tune with the song's theme, forget the spooky coincidence of the song title. And while instinct would rather leave me weeping for hours on end in response, much like my life at the time, I forced myself to suck it up.

To stare into the headrest of the seat in front of me, bite my lip, force those tears back ... and just let the moment pass.

One note at a time.

Artist: Counting Crows

This is a new feature section that I plan on recurring at least monthly, because I like the idea so much ... it just dawned on me in the car trip home from Ellisville this afternoon, when I realize how much of my life I relive through song.

Clever

Back in the day, when I was an employee of an independent music store, instead of helping customers or restocking shelves or even bothering to dust the oodles of filthy old jewel cases that sat out in the bins, my coworkers and I would stand around behind the counter and wax philosophical on just how incredibly genius rock was, and, in turn, how genius we were that we could make such observations.

The subject of today's blog comes courtesy of Diana, thank goodness for her keen internet-news eye. It reminds me of those carefree days of my youth as music store manager. And quite honestly, after the day I've had, I really needed the laugh.

Two Minutes and 42 Seconds in Heaven

Just go read it already.

Or don't.

Whatever you do, for crying out loud, stop sending me photographs of the Twin Towers going down in the fiery blazes of hell. I watched them, on a loop, for 2 full weeks on TV 7 years ago. Those are images this tiny, albeit sentimental, pea brain of mine would rather not retain.

I Am Still Dreaming Of Your ... Ghost.

Oooooooh, yeah!

Everclear is headlining Taste of St. Louis this year!!!

It's ON!

Yes. I have guilty pleasures too, just like the lot of you. So screw you with your judgments. I'm going to get to see them for freeeee!

So Long, Summer.

In tribute to the end of summer, which while is not officially until the equinox, but in my mind will always be book ended by two holidays -- Memorial Day and Labor Day -- here is my summer 2008 mix tape.

A collection, in no particular order, of the most influential and infectious tracks that had me singing at the top of my lungs all summer ... whenever no one else was looking.

I Am John Loney, Dear
Holes The Hobo Wives
Finders Keepers The 75s
When U Were Mine Cyndi Lauper
I'm Not Going To Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You Black Kids
The Breeze Dr. Dog
We Had It Right Nellie McKay feat. K.D. Lang
Chains Sons and Daughters
C'mon, C'mon The Von Bondies
You Don't Understand Me The Raconteurs
Exactly Where I'm At Ween
A Minha Menina Os Mutantes
Hesitating Beauty Billy Bragg & Wilco
Ears Like Golden Bats My Teenage Stride
Why Do You Let Me Stay Here? She and Him

Now, Mother Nature; bring on the Fall!

Ice Cream Is Going To Save The Day. Again.

Having a fiance with a ice cream addiction is difficult. Okay, maybe conflicting is more the term. Because, while I am not addicted, I definitely have a humongous sweet tooth that doesn't need the encouragement.

Last night; however, after our divine dinner of falafel and kebabs at Cafe Natasha on South Grand, for dessert we decided to stop in at the new icecremaria -- Emack and Bolio's -- whose banner boasted the slogan, "Ice Cream For The Connoisseur."



It did not disappoint. Better yet, it made me giddy with delight that my order was nearly fat-free!

I ordered the Key Lime frozen yogurt (made with skim milk and lime juice) ... when I asked for a sample, I was expecting soft serve. Instead, I get a popsicle stick sample jammed with a hard ice cream that is so smooth and creamy and deliciously lime, not to mention full of bits of graham cracker crumbs running through it. In other words, it did not at all give the impression of a frozen yogurt.

Or in other words, a perfect frozen yogurt. This is definitely what I order. In a sugar cone, please.

It occurred to us that it was a franchise / chain as we perused the artwork on the walls; which made me more curious about the business, since I really try to stay away from chain food.

On further investigation, it seems to be that the Boston-based company's M.O. is making "socially conscious" treats that contain no artificial ingredients; and every frozen treat is made fresh weekly in the stores.

So while the local mainstay will always be Mr. Ted Drewe's, I'm certainly not above satisfying our household's cravings/addictions over at E&B's again.

9021-Whoa.

Lame, but this is the phrase that comes to mind when I open to its photo shoot in this week's EW.



The photography is so high-contrast, the poses far more provocative than your typical EW spread. It was so similar to high-fashion model photography that I had to check out the guy, Guy Aroch to be exact, online. He makes Jennie and Shannen look like super foxes; and I don't even think either (especially Doherty) are especially attractive.

His website only has a link to e-mail.

Then I found this:

http://www.afg-w.com/guyaroch/beauty.html

He does pretty gorgeous stuff.

WHY?!

Do I not have the Sundance Channel?! Something must be done to remedy this state of affairs.

Immediately.

The Fantastic Mr. Anderson

Zissou is on HDNet films tonight, which prompts the question, "When is Wes Anderson's next film going to be released?"

I'm in love with his films and adored The Darjeeling Limited, regardless of what the ass clowning critics may have said. I knew his next feature was going to be an animated full-length.

But a stop-motion animated adaptation of a Roald Dahl novel?

Where do I sign?

Most impatiently of all, when?!

A Man-Made Crop Circle?! Who Knew?!

Ironically enough, this story was brought to my attention moments after I'd just completed chapter one of Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation.

I know, I know. I haven't read it yet. What can I say? I'm a slacker, and only recently in a non-Sedaris brand of non-fiction type of mood.

Regardless, the hubbub is that Papa John's has apparently commissioned, and completed, a man-made crop circle cut into a wheat field backing up to Denver International Airport for the viewing pleasure of -- er, and to hype the new all-wheat crust to -- all who visit ... including attendees of the Democratic National Convention.

The irony was simply too strong for me to not comment.

The Dark Knight

It's the weekend, so I'll keep this short.

I finally saw it last night, and I have to say, the new Batman movie is pretty damn awesome.

Go see it. On a very big screen, with a very good sound system. Like The Moolah.

Can. NOT. Wait!

There are some TV shows that make life worth living. This is one of them.



Here's the Season 4 teaser!

Czech This Out: Miou Miou

Usually when I hear the words "French pop," I immediately imagine scenes of Japanese girls with green hair having brightly-colored martinis in a space-aged bar at the edge of the universe.

Anyone who has ever listened will know why. For those of you who haven't it's because ... it's just ... so spacey. Airy. Background music, but still listenable and irresistibly charming; even if you don't know French. Or maybe because you don't know French.

So it's a surprise to me to find a group making lush French pop to the beat of a different drummer; a far cry from Dmitri from Paris' outlandish sound, Miou Miou brings a more provincial, earthy feel; likely due to their Czech Republic upbringing.

It's even more evident in the utterly adorable video for "A l'été de la Saint-Martin '68."



Miou Miou Online:
http://www.miou-miou.cz/news.htm

MiouSpace:
http://www.myspace.com/mioumiou

Momma's Gotta Squeezebox

It was the summer of 1994; ah, I remember it as though it were yesterday. The sights, the smells ... most importantly, the sounds. One of the biggest hits that summer was Warren G. and Nate Dogg's "Regulate," and I knew it forwards and backwards; or so I thought. There was this one line that always troubled me ... I thought it was:

"I can't believe they're taking Lawrence Welk."

As it turns out, the lyric is, "I can't believe they're taking Warren's wealth." Which makes perfect sense, seeing as though he's talking about getting jacked.

In any event, today's videos come as a personal challenge from a friend to expand my reader demographic. The first is what Tom sent to me, a quite impressive performance by Myron Floren leading the band with his accordion in a 1967 episode of The Lawrence Welk Show.




To dispel the myth that the squeezebox is for golden oldies; however, I present a video of probably the most prolific female accordionistas of our time, Ms. Jenny Conlee of The Decemberists.




While the video quality isn't great, you can tell this girl is far more than skilled. I saw them in the Duck Room back in 2005 and she is by far the most impressive performer on stage; probably largely due to the fact that she's of a very dainty frame and only stands about 5' tall, giving her the appearance that she's wrestling the accordion rather than playing it.

While The Decemberists widely appeal to, well, pretty much only band and theatre geeks ... Jenny's proof positive that rocking out on the accordion isn't a thing of the past.

It's just still pretty uncool.

Who doesn't like a good Puppet show?

Does anyone remember the Arctic Monkeys?

Alex Turner, the frontman of said Britrock outfit is back with the London Metropolitan Orchestra and Rascals' Miles Kane in the form of The Last Shadow Puppets with the album The Age of The Understatement. The only understatement here is that this is really good stuff.

Here's the video for the album's title track:

CD Release Alert!

Dr. Dog is back!

Fate is in stores starting today (apparently FYE may have some autographed copies available online) and samples from their MySpace are very promising. Oh how I can not wait to see them next Wednesday! It'll be my first Bluebird outing. Report surely to follow.

In the mean time, please to enjoy this track from 2007's We All Belong, courtesy of Park The Van records.

Dr. Dog - My Old Ways




Also, fitting as it is Discovery Channel's Shark Week this week; the golden voice is back! (Alright, she has been about a month, I've just missed it until now).

My Brightest Diamond has recorded yet another spooky, beautifully orchestrated album, A Thousand Shark's Teeth. A sample track is available on MBD's MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/mybrightestdiamond

Okay, I'm Sold.

I've finally tired of the buzz surrounding the newest "synth-pop" group that sounds just like all of my favorite 80s bands of old. The newest review mentions of their sound's resemblance to the likes of Robert Smith and Morrissey ... so, fashionably late as usual, I just checked out the Black Kids.

I think you should too.

Particularly "I'm Not Going To Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You." It's Cure-tastic. In fact, here's the video:



I am a total sucker for a good pop song. It's true.

Hit up their MySpace for other songs:

http://www.myspace.com/blackkidsrock

Double Threat

Zooey Deschanel.

You love her or hate her. I'm of the former category; even though she's not the world's best actress (she obviously plays only one character in any given role, and hunch has it its "herself"), I've always thought she was cute, dry and quasi-talented enough to be girlcrush-worthy.

Here's a new reason: her musical project with M. Ward, She and Him.

Which, of course, I stumbled upon in Vol. #79 of Magnet. It was just an advert, but it was the full-page back cover which, oh I don't know, kind of demands your attention; and seeing as though I was interested enough to roam to MySpace to check out Scarlett Johansson's (pathetic) attempt at musicianship, I figured one more actress-turned-song stylist dab wouldn't hurt.

Stream the music at their MySpace:
http://www.myspace.com/sheandhim

And often.

... shouldn't it be the "Old Foges on the Block"?

Coming soon to an arena near you, the New Kids on the Block!

Seriously, is anyone going to attend the shows on this tour? Who is interested? People like me, whose 10 year-old selves adored them above God way back when? Are they taking their kids along? Is there a new album?

This, along with the announcement of the "new" 90210 (with Shannen Dougherty, Jennie Garth and Joe E. Tata rumored to be involved) seems so hopelessly sad and desperate. I just have no idea what kind of an audience this seriously appeals to; as far as I can tell, this only applies to the "morbid curiosity" sector in which old fans have in has-beens.

Which, while it's certainly not enough to actually purchase tickets to a mega-theatre concert; it probably is enough to the CW this fall ... if for no other reason but to see just how bad Shannen and Jennie look compared to the new teen class.