Making All the President's Men into a taut, suspenseful, and intelligent political drama was no small feat for director Alan J Pakula (who proved to be an expert in the poli-thriller genre with the equally great Parallax View) considering that everyone knows how the story ends and that most of the two hour plus running time consists of Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman making phone calls, taking notes, running around and trying desperately to extract information from unwilling sources.

I saw this movie when I was a kid and learned what this whole 'Watergate' thing I'd heard so much about actually was. I also grew a fond of corduroy suits thanks to the utterly charming (as usual) Robert Redford, who has the hair of a god. Thanks to other young viewers, it's since become known as “the movie that launched a thousand journalism careers” with its accurate and respectful depiction of all the hard work that goes into revealing the truth.

Of course, since the films release in 1976, the entire world of traditional newspaper journalism has been pushed to the brink of obsolescence by the easy access to information offered by the internet; several major publications have already folded (recently my homestate's Rocky Mountain News). The film is nostalgic, then about the days when newspaper journalism was still considered vitally important and could actually change the world.

The informant known as Deep Throat, played by a sinisterly smokey Hal Holbrook in the film, has since been revealed to have been Mark Felt, the FBI's number two man.

All the President's Men is currently available for instant viewing on Netflix.

Known primarily (if at all) for their hit Venus, a song that certainly colored my early years when it was covered by Bananarama, Shocking Blue was a groovy Dutch band made up of good looking kids that were slightly more popular in Europe.

While Venus is great, I'm more drawn to the less commercially successful track Deamon Lover from the album Scorpio's Dance. A moody song with a witchy heart accompanied by kind of surfy mesmerizing guitar.

Plus, it shares its title with Jim's favorite movie about corporate espionage in the porn video game industry.

Okay, we all know how I felt about reading Twilight and, sadly, I thought the movie adaptation was just as boring – but even I have to praise the inspired casting of Robert Pattison as Edward. While I'm not entirely sure why the rest of the clan looks like they hail from a local JC Penney ad at best (and the ghost of a character actor stuck playing nerds in commercials at worst), nor why his father is the jock from Can't Hardly Wait, I guess all the plain and boring faces drifting across the screen just make Edward and his diamond skin stand out all the more.

In interviews he seems like a pretty likable person too, though who knows what the constant attention of millions of young girls can do to a person. He's been touted as the next Jude Law, but let's hope he doesn't sink into such sleazy behavior.

Oh, dearly beloved Mariska Veres,?how smitten I have become since first laying eyes on you. Part Liza Minelli, part Susanna Hoffs, with thick eyelashes and a bouffant of beautiful, witchy hair, I grew up grooving to the fruits of your labor. Of course, I speak of the Bananarama version of your greatest hit, Venus, but as you'll learn from this week's song pick, I now know that you and your band Shocking Blue were more than one hit wonders.

You were one tough Dutch lady who fronted a quite good looking band through the years of psychedelia, man I bet you had stories of yourself and that amazing red heart sweater…

See some photos here, and more at this fan site.

My coworker Sarafina is always getting holiday care packages from home, stuffed with thrilling little goodies that she's generous enough to share. This Easter bestowed the beautifully packaged chocolate eggs from Caffarel, a company founded in 1826 in the Piedmont region of Italy.

We spent some time with an Italian to English translation widget to learn the flavors: mandorla (almond), torroncino (nougat), gianduja (hazelnut & chocolate paste); I finally decided on mandoria which was rich with a hint of marzipan sweetness.

I can probably just address this post directly to Mike Birbiglia since I know that he'll get a Google alert soon enough, and Mike (whose last name, even with concentrated effort, I have difficulty pronouncing correctly) let me assure you that this brief recommendation will not include any insults of your physique. In the hipster comedic universe, where the relatively unskinny Zack Galifinakis is the hottest man ever, I don't think you have anything to worry about anyways.

The one man show, Sleepwalk with Me, which many of you might recognize from the ubiquitous subway poster, is extremely charming and funny. Focusing on his own experiences with illness and an extreme sleep disorder that once had him jumping out of motel window in the middle of the night, the personal anecdotes speak to larger truths. I was laughing to the point of shaking several times, but be warned that the show is peppered with sudden emotionally poignant pitfalls that can even bring one to tears if, say you've had a few margaritas before entering the theater.

Playing at the intimate Bleeker Street Theater, we were able to get obstructed tickets for under $30 from Theater Mania but truthfully, the performance is well worth full price admission. Portions of the show have appeared on This American Life, but there's plenty of stuff you haven't heard on WBEZ.

Saturday was such a lovely day to stroll the grounds of Wave Hill, one of the Bronx's best kept secrets. Snuggled in the very wealthy mansion dotted landscape (the mansion across the way from the park gates was used at the exterior of the Corleone mansion in The Godfather) of Riverdale, the park is a pint sized oasis from the city with an extraordinary view of the Hudson River.

There are several small gardens, a green house, two houses (which in the past have been rented by both Theodore Roosevelt and Mark Twain),?many lawns to layout on, and a small trail through the woods. Grab one of the many benches and seats in the shade of a tree and enjoy life.

Of all the lame and desperate reality shows to come round, Jim and I took a shine to one of the most ostensibly boring. Running in Heels revolves around the none to glamorous adventures of three interns at Marie Claire. They get coffee! They fail to hail cabs! They haggle over Chinatown luggage! All the while bemoaning how haaaard they're working.

It's a super addictive show mainly because it most closely resembles the life and people my friends and I would gossip about in our actual lives. There are minor competitions, like helping with a charity event, or writing a blog about Kenneth Cole, not exactly the stuff of television magic, but the intrigue of these catty girls competing to literally be better than the other ones at grabbing coffee for the Vassarettes (the world's first “bra” band!, huh?) is funny and perfect for lazy morning viewing over some baked eggs.

I guess it's a bit late to be recommending this show, but I had to wait until the finale to decide if it was going to make it because if they dared to offer the job to that bitch Ashley, giving young viewers the false impression that being a terrible, horrible person is the way to get ahead in life, there was no way on earth I could recommend it.

I know, it may not be mature or endearing for me to feel so much hatred for some idiot girl, but you didn't see Ashley! As it turns out, Marie Claire did fine by me, condemning her attitude as a major liability in the real world, and so now I can safely admit, somewhat sheepishly, that I watched and enjoyed every episode.

One of the downsides of my neighborhood is that almost nothing is up as early as me on Sunday morning. When I wake up with a craving for pancakes and want to try a delicious sounding recipe from Serious Eats at seven in the morning, I pretty much have to wait until the normal people roll out of bed closer to ten to get the ingredients from the grocery store. Well, this past Sunday I was not willing to wait and I opted instead to see what Bisquick had to offer using ingredients I already had.

There are two “melt in your mouth” pancake versions that differ from the traditional. I tried the “supreme” which includes sugar, baking powder, and vanilla. The result is a lighter and sweeter pancake that took maple syrup well and didn't leave me with a rock in my tummy, despite the fact that I made a hulking stack of them just for the two of us.