Sexy Face, Down PatI may be late in discovering this but Epic Duck Face is truly… epic and an excellent use of the animated gif. Another animated gif favorite of mine? The Mariah Carey boob sweat sniff… which I sadly can’t find anymore 🙁
from Rachael RaySummer is the time for crab and I am always looking for new ways to use it. Last we I tried a couple recipes and this Rachael Ray Crab Salad with Orange and Oregano on Grilled Sourdough was a big winner. Easy, no cook, and flavorful, I had to make a few changes to the recipe – I acutally didn’t have oregano, so skipped it and left my sourdough un-grilled. Still great with modifications though.
directed by Lloyd Bacon (1933)The Golddiggers of 1933 is our gold standard for golden era musicals, and while Footlight Parade doesn’t quit reach the magnificence of that film, it’s an engaging fun romp. Bolstered by an uber charming cast, all of which you notice made other categories this week including a fast talking, lithe dancing James Cagney, the wide eyed sass with a good head on her shoulders, Joan Blondell, the ultimate “juvenile” and nice guy Dick Powell, and the petite sweetheart Ruby Keeler.
Of course, the real centerpiece of are the over the top Busby Berkeley musical numbers that among other wonders include: men and women dressed as giant cats, a waterfall full of lady godivas, a hotel where women get busy on their wedding nights, an opium den populated by women in incredible costumes, and that man/child thing dressed as a mouse.
The film moves along at a breakneck pace, it’s at least twenty minutes before there’s even a pause between action and dialogue. The plot, that rushes by you, involves the arrival of “talkies” which pushes musical producer Cagney into the new business of creating live performance “prologues” for the new fangled movie theaters. It’s all a build up to the back to back musical numbers though.
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by David Mitchell (1999)David Mitchell entered my life with one of my favorite novels ever, Cloud Atlas. I decided to visit his first novel, Ghostwritten a few weeks ago and found the beginnings of genius, but unlike Atlas, it’s a slow, sometimes confusing process to make it through this dense, story-hopping book that begins with a Tokyo subway attack and ends with the end of the world narrowly diverted. The stories in between are loosely connected, a style he has made his own and some are more compelling than others.
It’s hard to say exactly what it’s all “about” though there are clearly themes like individuals versus the masses, whether it be a corporation, a cult, or the government, human accountability, and ghosts of many kinds. Somehow though, in it’s ambition and global sweep, the novel is a bit dry and passionless. While it’s certainly worth a read with many memorable elements, he perfects the balance of mind and heart with his later works. (i.e. read Cloud Atlas if you haven’t yet).
by Afrika Bambaataa (1982)Do surprise mystery songs ever show up on your ipod? Ones you know you never downloaded but suddenly appear in a shuffle? Some are frustrating, boring emo rock or some sort of Pavement song from Jim, but Planet Rock by Afrika Bambaataa is one of the most delightful for me. The summer’s road trips have been that much more fun with the Kraftwerk sampled 80’s techno gem.
by Clutchy Hopkins (2006)The neighborhood corner Aussie gem, Five Leaves has much to recommend it (a brilliant chicken sandwich, pavlova, muesli, gravlax, and excellent coffee to name a few) but aside from the food and an affable staff, there’s always good tunes playing. I am usually familiar with what their spinning, and sometimes pleasantly surprised (True Stories by Talking Heads is woefully forgotten and underplayed). This morning though, a music I was thoroughly enjoying was unknown to me. It ended up being a one Clutchy Hopkins, a man whose very identity in in question and the stuff of mystery and legend.
Considered a dj, his music is an amalgamation of styles and sounds and as far from the monotonous stuff that inspires squatting, hoola hooping in McCarren Park (anyone else privy to that display Saturday?) that I usually associate with the term “dj”.
The album is self produced and likely to become the soundtrack to the rest of my summer. Very lovely stuff.
Dancing GangsterFrom dangerous wise guy to fancy footed musical man, the uniquely manly James Cagney has had several faces in his varied career. Born on the Lower East Side, he was a real life tough guy before playing one in gangster films. And while it seems strange that a sex symbol would be born out of smashing a grapefruit in a woman’s face, here we are. Cagney’s real life persona was a far cry from a brute though. He stayed with his wife his entire life and was once s left leaning liberal (like so many, he veered more to the right the older he got). Also, in a very modern man move, he stayed out of the spotlight by purchasing his own farm where he would retire to often throughout his life. Plus, he’s got that crazy hair wave that defies explanation and makes me so happy.
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Singing Tough GuyI know and love Dick Powell from his early musical days where the goofy grinned, wavy style haired gent always starred as a playful “juvenile” role and sang such great Bugsby Berkeley classics as “Pettin’ in the Park” and “Honeymoon Hotel”. I was surprised to read then, that the man whose gentle silliness could be played with aplomb by Will Farell (well, minus the singing) reinvented himself in Hollywood as a tough guy in numerous noirs. It’s even more surprising that as film noir fans we’ve not seen more of them – except for the flashback Kurt Douglas thriller The Bad and the Beautiful. I’ve been sure to add Murder, My Sweet and Cornered to my queue. I will skip the last film he directed before he passed away, The Conquerer that bizarrely cast John Wayne as Genghis Khan.
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Adorable BombshellJoan Blondell is an adorable star whose comic timing, charm and smile could teach a thing or two to modern day comediennes. I know and love her from Bugsy Berkeley musicals and was surprised to learn she was also known and loved to me in my younger days as Vi, the sweetheart waitress in Grease. Her career was prolific, always joyful and latest over fifty years.
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240 Sullivan StI’ve had cravings throughout my pregnancy: rainbow sprinkles, strawberries, granola, milk, watermelon and Arnold Palmers to name a few, but the strangest is the most recent – peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It may not seem odd but you have to understand that I would never eat one of my own accord and barely even managed eating them as a young kid (which was probably the last time I ate one). Now I am making them for breakfast. So, I thought I’d take advantage of the phenomena and visit Peanut Butter and Co. while I can.
The family friendly spot offers many versions of the childhood fave but I couldn’t see anything except for the Fluffernutter – a simple and genius paring of marshmallow Fluff and creamy peanut butter (crunchy also available). Like all sandwiches, it comes with potato chips and carrot sticks and I went all out by also ordering a syrupy cherry coke.
While it was quite good, it’s a little pricey considering the fair and the bread could have been a tad softer for my taste (though, full disclosure, I am a Wonder Bread fan). Making this at home, I probably would have gone overboard on the innards too, piling one about double the amount of each.