About 99% of the promotional e-mails I receive (and to be honest, I’m always sort of flummoxed when I get that sort of thing because it’s like the people who send them are convinced I’m some sort of mover-and-shaker in the blogosphere) hold very little interest for me but when I fished an e-mail out of my box yesterday touting 2012’s “Great Directors” series of U.S. postage stamps I naturally wanted to put them up on the blog. The bulk of the e-mail was dedicated to TDOY director god Billy Wilder (and my description of him as such might explain why I got the e-mail—incidentally, the USPS guy who sent me the e-mail referred to him at one point as “Bill,” which I found hysterically funny) but I’m equally ecstatic about the other three directors, particularly John Ford and John Huston. Suffice it to say, I am so getting some of these when they’re released next year.
I was at the post office yesterday to check on the mail in my post office box and to mail out a couple of things…two weeks earlier while I was there I suffered a small but painful injury in the process. You see, the main branch of the Athens post office is inconveniently located in a strip mall, and as I was getting out of the car my flip-flop caught on the handicapped access curb and I ended up on my ass after executing (the judges gave me two nines and a ten) a perfect Jerry Lewis-like arm flail. Fortunately, the generous amount of padding I’ve manage to acquire over a lifetime shielded me from any serious broken bone-age (I was, however, sore as all get out) but I did manage to stove two of the fingers on my left hand and they were a lovely shade of violet for a few days (and also quite painful to type with).
So yesterday when I went to navigate the treacherous terrain that is the post office’s sidewalk I also noticed that there are bricks with little bumps on them right by this alleged handicapped curb. My Dad argues that they’re there for traction but I’m not so certain I agree…I think it’s a personal injury lawsuit waiting to happen. My mother’s theory is that both the bricks and my fall were the nefarious doings of my former arch nemesis at the Savannah
My father gives me a double sawbuck to go and get him some stamps and when the postal lady asked me if I wanted the plain ones or something a little fancy I asked her what she had in the line of fancy and she proceeded to show me several stamp designs, including this one below…
…that I eventually settled on for Dad (or “Pop,” as my nephew calls him…only he pronounces it “Bop,” which makes me think of that old Dan Seals song) because of his great love for Pixar movies. (Yes, I’m making that up.) Mom said he probably wouldn’t like what I chose and, as usual, she was right on the money…but it could have been worse—I could have got him some of the Ronald Reagan stamps, which would have gone over like a fart at a funeral.
I apologize for rambling on about the stamps like this but because I’ve done very little that’s productive since Saturday I wanted to get something up on the blog so the place isn’t completely overrun with tumbleweeds. The ‘rents returned to Rancho Yesteryear on Tuesday and from the anecdotes that spilled forth seemed to have had a swell time. Mom went on at great length about the fabulous meals they had while they were there (which, to a person who subsisted on cold Spaghetti-O’s and Oreos during their absence, is not something I would advise) but sensing that I was little put out by all these culinary yarns sprung for some really excellent Chinese take-out upon their return. (We even managed to do without ordering fried rice, because as I have laboriously explained here in the past there’s not one restaurant in this burg who can prepare it to my fastidious specifications.)
Before I go, two blogathon items I want to draw to your attention. Pussy Goes Grrr has announced that they will be hosting a Juxtaposition Blogathon from September 12-16…and because “Juxtaposition Blogathon” sounds like one of those tunes you’d hear on Schoolhouse Rock I am going to let them tell you what it’s all about:
You are cordially invited to participate in the Juxtaposition Blogathon, the first-ever blogathon hosted by Pussy Goes Grrr, which will take place from September 12-16, 2011 . The rules are simple: just write about two (or more) different movies in the same post sometime before September 16, email a link to p.g.grrr@gmail.com, and we’ll post that link!
(If you don’t have a blog, you can still participate; just send us an email.)
As you probably noticed, the driving theme of “juxtaposition” is incredibly open-ended, and you’re welcome to take it in any direction you like. You can write about movies from any genre, country, director, time period, etc., just so long as you address multiple movies with reference to each other. You could compare a remake with the original; juxtapose a director’s first movie with his/her last; consider two disparate approaches to the same subject; or call attention to surprising similarities between two otherwise unrelated movies. Get creative! And above all, have fun.
If I can swing this, I might kick in with a contribution (it’s being held at a time of the month when I’m juggling projects in the air like they used to do those plates on Ed Sullivan) but even if I’m not able to I still wanted to get something up to those who may be interested because this is Ashley, Andreas and RF’s first blogathon. (“Years from now when you talk about this—and you will—be kind…”)
Finally, I wanted to use a brief bit o’bandwidth to thank everyone who’s announced their intention to participate in the first blogathon at this ‘umble scrap of the blogosphere…namely The Dick Van Dyke Show Blogathon, which will unfurl on October 3—the 50th anniversary of the classic TV sitcom’s premiere on CBS. I thought “Hey, if I get about 5-10 people who’ll be up for it that’ll be pretty nifty” but at last count there’s 28 people who’ve said “Deal me in” and we’re still a month away from lift-off. Tentatively, I’m planning on doing a write-up on the episode “Never Bathe on Saturday” (it’s the first Van Dyke outing I remember seeing as a kid) but if someone else wants to tackle that one I’m more than willing to step aside…I like to think I could probably write about any of the episodes—with the exception of “The Twizzle.” (That to me is the nadir of what is otherwise the gold standard by which sitcoms should be measured.)
