Well—it’s not so much a vacation as it is a temporary leave of absence…I’m currently ensconced at the ‘rents right now because sister Kat and Company will be out of town for the next few days and…well, come on, people…the food is much better here than at Castle Yesteryear. Last night, Mom whipped up a standing rib roast with ‘taters and gravy, green beans, yeast rolls and a leafy green salad. When we finished doing as much damage to that as we could, we tackled a key lime pie for afters.
So blogging is going to be light for the next few days, if at all, because I’ll be away from the home base and also because I’m having to maneuver my big clumsy fingers on Kat’s laptop. I once entertained thoughts of getting a laptop—but the cruel reality is that it drives me insane to type on one. One small benefit to this, however, is that it has a subconscious effect on my typically long-winded posts (they tend to be more concise and to the point). I have a feeling some of you out there wouldn’t mind if I got a laptop if this would be the end result.
There’s not much on the Fox Movie Channel for me to take a gander at so for the most part, I’m having to sit back and enjoy what my parents generally watch. My father, who in the past has become the History Channel’s bitch, has broadened his viewing habits to include shows like Cops and something on truTV entitled The World’s Dumbest (fill in the blank). This last one is a real doozy; it features footage of people fighting, committing crimes, driving like maniacs or what have you—punctuated with droll barbs from such well-honed wits as Tonya Harding, Danny Bonaduce, Todd Bridges and Leif Garrett. (Seriously, you close your eyes and you’d swear you were sitting at the Algonquin Round Table.)
The pickings have been so slim that I TiVo’d Eaten Alive (1976) last night to watch this morning. Alive, a horror film directed by The Texas Chain Saw Massacre’s Tobe Hooper and starring Neville “Laredo” Brand as an old coot (with nerd glasses) whose Louisiana hotel features a peculiar tourist attraction: a hungry ‘gator with a penchant for gobbling up guests. Brand is a hoot as the scripture-quoting manager whose stream-of-conciousness monologues are the highlights of this low-budget cult flick, but unless you get a kick out of seeing celebs like Carolyn Jones, Mel Ferrer (honest to my grandma; he has this bewildered look on his face that screams “What the f**k am I doing in this movie?”), Stuart Whitman and a pre-Nightmare on Elm Street Robert Englund in desperate need to pay the rent don’t say you weren’t warned. (If you do watch, check out the “All-American” family consisting of William Finley, Massacre’s Marilyn Burns and Kyle “My sister Kim is the hotter one” Richards—they’re weirder than Brand’s character!)
My mother just asked me if there was any movie on television that I was interested in watching. If there was something on, I wouldn’t have sat through Eaten Alive.