I Can’t Facebook It

I have been composing a Facebook status in my head that goes something like this:

Let’s see who reads my posts all the way through. Still reading? If so, that is where you and I differ, because I usually stop reading when thus challenged. This post should go on to be sentimental about friends, or self-righteous about some disease or judging others, or even silly about we just got arrested. Then it would get manipulative and sneer at uncaring people who “just keep scrolling.” For heavens’ sake, what’s wrong with scrolling? If we didn’t scroll, we couldn’t read very many posts now, could we? Anybody still reading? Or have you gone back to scrolling (like I would have). Of those still reading, I suppose some of you are huffing, “Well I DO care about Facebook friends and cancer patients and all those other issues, I am NOT self-righteous and I would NEVER manipulate anybody!”

That is pretty much as far as I’ve gotten. I can’t think of a zippy conclusion. In fact, I only really like the first three sentences.

Oh, let’s be honest, I’m not going to post anything like that on Facebook. I really just typed it in here, because I needed a post for Non-Sequitur Thursday. A Facebook post that I do not intend to put on Facebook is non-sequitur enough for me. Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

Suitable for Wuss-out Wednesday

My life has been thin of Mohawk Valley adventures lately. On perusing the TV Journal, I find I am out of cheesy movies to write about as well. What’s a blogger to do?

Well, I was about to stop writing entirely, because my pen was beginning to seriously irritate my middle finger (cue jokes about that being my most often used digit). Then I remembered I had a pen with a built-in spongy thing in my pocket. I don’t usually leave the house without at least two or three pens plus paper. That’s how I roll.

So, spongy thing in place, what can I possibly write about? I suppose I could give another shout-out to Colonial Laundromat in Ilion, NY. That’s why I had no adventures Monday night; we had to do laundry. There isn’t much to say about that, except that it is a pleasure to at least have a clean place to do a tiresome chore, especially given my regrettable tendency to drop my brand-clean laundry on the floor.

Getting back to What Shall I Write About, I feel disinclined to do another Preview of Coming Attractions. For one reason, sometimes I don’t make it to the thing I previewed and then I feel silly or guilty.

That is as far as I wrote. Full disclosure: I wrote it on Tuesday, then remembered I had been to Ilion Little Theatre on Friday. However, on finding it in my notebook today, I deem it suitable for Wuss-out Wednesday. Hmm, that’s not a bad headline either. Waste not, want not!

ILT is a Blessing

Last weekend Steven and I had the pleasure of attending one of the performances of Bless Me, Father, Ilion Little Theatre’s first production of their 2013-14 season.

I feel a little bad that we did not attend the first weekend, because if this post had run a week ago, local readers would have had a chance to see the show. Then again, there were full or almost full houses every night, so some folks may have been doomed to disappointment in any case.

It was a very entertaining production, with plenty of laughs and a few touching moments. The cast was a nice mixture of new faces and old favorites (um, not so very old). I love community theatre so much, I probably would have enjoyed a mediocre or even a bad performance, but this one was top notch.

I guess I don’t want to say too much about it, though, because anyone who did not get to see it might feel bad. Let me instead, give a general shout-out to Ilion Little Theatre (ILT), a real gem of the Mohawk Valley.

The theatre is located on Remington Avenue in Ilion, NY, just behind Remington Arms (it’s a factory, not a hotel, for any non-local readers). The building is called The Stables, because it used to be the stables of the Remington family. It’s a small theatre, seating less than 100. That makes the performances intimate, and every seat is a good one.

The season is four shows, so anyone who missed Bless Me, Father still has a chance to catch Wait Until Dark, Don’t Talk to the Actors, and Funny Money. For more information, check out their webpage at www.ilionlittletheatre.org. Or you can like their Facebook page.

But What Would Poe Think?

Spoiler Alert! I’m going to tell the plot and I may give away a couple of the best jokes.

I thought The Raven (1963) had it all: Vincent Price, Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre star. Roger Corman directed. And it’s based, or rather “inspired by” Edgar Allen Poe. This movie is going to rock! I thought, as I set my DVR.

Well, the movie does rock, but not quite in the way I expected it to. It starts out creepy enough: the camera pans through a gloomy castle while Price’s inimitable voice intones the poem “The Raven” by Poe. A big, scary black bird appears on cue. When Price dramatically asks will he ever see his dear Lenore again and we are waiting for — come on, you know this — Quote the Raven, “Nevermore!” instead we hear a rather testy Peter Lorre answer, “How should I know?”

And it goes on from there.

It is a very silly movie. Boris Karloff is responsible for Lorre’s feathered state. He is the evil head magician. Price’s father used to be the (not evil) head magician, but Price lives retired with his beautiful daughter and the body of his dead wife.

Lorre’s son is played by Jack Nicholson. I think it is delightful that Nicholson got his start in cheesy horror movies. So far I’ve seen him in Little Shop of Horrors, The Terror and now The Raven. Unfortunately, in The Raven, he is merely a handsome young man and doesn’t get much to do.

The highlight of the picture is the showdown between Karloff and Price. This is a scene they love to show clips of in Price or Corman retrospectives. Price counters Karloff’s zaps with panache and a sweet smile.

I laughed heartily at The Raven and recommend it to lovers of horror with a sense of humor.

Another Dull Post

It’s been another Wrist to Forehead Sunday. A dark, dull, gloomy day. I read a romance novel and watched movies. Good movies, not the cheesy kind I like to write about.

In short, I got nuthin’.

Usually I can expound upon the fact that I got nuthin’, basically making something out of nothing. Writing is kind of cool that way. Only it doesn’t always work.

Today it ain’t working.

Or should I have said “workin'”?

And what is with the bad grammar of “got nuthin'”? I know better than that. I’m such a grammar prig most of the time, it is really unbecoming when I don’t use proper English myself.

OK: I have nothing of interest to post.

Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?

Great Weather, Dull Post

Today is the sort of day November sometimes gives us as a gift, a kind of a fond farewell to the warm weather. The sun was bright, the sky was blue and it was warm enough to not really need a jacket.

I walked to the post office with Tabby, to mail some postcards I had written. I started out in my rain jacket (for the large pockets), toque and sunglasses. A hat of some sort was necessary, due to a bad hair day. I told myself it didn’t matter if it was too warm for the toque; the young kids are wearing knitted hats in all kinds of weather these days. Still, after about five steps, I returned to the house, ditched the jacket and switched out the toque for my crazy old lady hat.

The combination of crazy old lady hat (it has a wide brim) and sunglasses was the way to go. What a day! After a while I was actually looking for shade. A guy was raking leaves in his front lawn. What a good job he did; that lawn was almost pristine. I told him I had to go home and do that, but I didn’t mention that my lawn will probably never look that good.

I noticed a “Beware of Dog” sign on a house, where I happen to know an adorable little pooch, smaller than Tabby, resides. I shan’t reveal where the house is, in case they are hoping to frighten prowlers with thoughts of the Hound of Baskervilles, but I had to laugh. Then I thought, it was on the driveway. Perhaps they were warning visitors not to run over their dog. I’ve never seen that pooch on a leash (in their defense, he doesn’t seem to leave the lawn and I believe the people are right there when he’s out).

After we got home from our enjoyable walk, I spent some time raking leaves, as I said I had to. I didn’t get very far. In my defense, Steven had already filled most of our yard waste bins. What a thankless job raking is. I can see why people like leaf blowers, although I find them obnoxiously loud when the neighbors use them.

This pedestrian post has been even more plodding than usual, I’m afraid. Well, one does one’s poor best. Perhaps I can do something better tomorrow. Maybe some running commentary. Or there is another Vincent Price movie I can write a post about how I can’t write a post about. I do hope you’ll stay tuned.

To the Play!

There I was at work (on a break, that is), writing my Friday Lame Post, and I thought it was going rather well. Then I realized I had written something extremely similar already. I was mortified.

And then I couldn’t really think of anything better to write, because I got a headache. Not a bad one, but I didn’t like it. So instead of thinking about my blog, I plotted how I could get out of going to the play at Ilion Little Theatre, which Steven and I had planned to attend. We can’t go on Saturday, because we have been invited to a party. We will probably be too tired on Sunday.

At the end of the day, I told my co-worker (who had earlier that day heard my weekend plans) that I would go to the play on Sunday.

“You will not. You’ll be too hungover from the party. You won’t go see that play at all!” He felt quite confident in his prediction.

Long story short (I know: too late): here I sit, showered, dressed and ready to go. Play tonight. Party tomorrow. Blog post in between.

Short post for now.

Hope you all enjoy your weekend.

More than a Knock-Off

I was just a little disappointed in the plot of The Mad Magician (1954). At first I took myself to task for lamenting the movie I wanted to see rather than enjoying the movie I did see. Then I thought maybe I could write a story using the plot I’d been hoping for. What plot was that, you may ask. I say, nice try! You’re not stealing my plot ideas! In fact, I’ve said too much already.

Enough of that nonsense. Let’s talk about The Mad Magician, starring Vincent Price, another Halloween movie presented by TCM which awaited me on my DVR. Oh yeah, before I forget:

Spoiler Alert! I’m getting a little bored with these spoiler alerts, are you? But this is one where you seriously might want to watch the movie before reading about it.

In pre-movie commentary, Ben Mankiewicz tells us the plot. Price is an inventor of illusions for other magicians. When his own chance for fame is cruelly snatched from his grasp, he goes mad and seeks revenge. The movie followed House of Wax, Price’s first horror film. Both movies were in 3D, a feature completely lost on television viewers. That hardly matters: moth movies are very enjoyable.

Magician follows a rule I once read: Audiences want the same thing, only different. A lot of elements are the same. Price starts out as a dreamy, creative genius who turns murderous once his dreams are destroyed. He was dreamier in Wax, and he was destroyed physically, which accounted for both his method and his madness. I thought in Magician he was more murderous than mad. Of course, a murderous Vincent Price is always worth a watch.

Leonard Maltin calls Magician a knock-off of Wax (Leonard Maltin’s 2011 Movie Guide, Signet, 2010). I can see that, but, really, this is a plot line that is used often and to good effect. Somebody does a guy dirt. The guy seeks revenge. It worked in The Count of Monte Cristo. It worked in Sweeney Todd (the stage play; hated the movie). I won’t even begin to list all the more recent movies, books and graphic novels that use it, but that might be a fun game at your next party, if you’re into that sort of thing.

Getting back to our movie, one addition is that Price has a wife that betrays him. She’s played by the delightful Eva Gabor and is quite a different character from her Lisa on Green Acres.

Another fun character is the gossipy writer from whom Price rents a room. Only she thinks he’s… well, that would be giving away an important plot development. She was my favorite character, not surprisingly, as I fancy myself a writer. Also, she is far from a useless movie female, but is very instrumental in moving things along.

The movie does make use of a hoary make-up cliche: you can use prosthetics and masks to completely transform yourself into another person. Oh, don’t spout “suspension of disbelief” at me. Some things are easier to swallow than others (although “swallow” and “suspend” is kind of mixing metaphors, isn’t it?). In this case, there is at least an explanation for the impersonations and Price’s talent is important to the plot.

I recommend The Mad Magician. It might be fun to watch it on a double bill with House of Wax and list every parallel. My favorite was the final joke involving a head. I thought the one in Magician was funnier, but spoiler alert notwithstanding, I don’t want to give it away.

Wuss-out Walk

For this week’s Wuss-out Wednesday, I offer a brief pedestrian post about a walk my husband and I took with our schnoodle, Tabby.

What I mainly wussed out of today was running. I spent all day at work trying to psyche myself into a running state of mind. I pictured myself running. I thought about various streets I particularly like to run on. I anticipated with relish writing a blog post about the run. All to no avail.

Well, you can look superior all you like, but the only ones who really are superior are the ones who actually did run today. To those readers, I hang my head in shame. To all others I explain, “Shut up.”

It has gotten cold in the Mohawk Valley, as one expects it to do in November. We even had some snow. Naturally I’ve been singing “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” but not too loudly, because I don’t want to get punched in the nose.

All that long introduction is because the walk was actually short and uneventful. It was cold. I keep telling myself, not as cold as it’s going to be. I had on my insulated sweatshirt, toque and gloves, so I felt pretty comfortable. It was about to get dark, helped on by sporadic cloud cover. We could see the moon, at a little more than half.

“The full moon is Sunday,” I told Steven. “We’ll have to take a walk after dark then.”

Everybody’s Halloween decorations seem to be gone, except for a few rotting pumpkins here and there. Some scarecrows remain, as well as pots of mums, but those are appropriate for Thanksgiving and fall in general. We saw a lighted Christmas tree in one window.

“It’s too early, but it’s pretty,” I said.

Tabby trotted along in a businesslike fashion, stopping the usual amount of times to sniff. She led us down Bellinger Street to Meyers Park. We saw a few trees that still had colored leaves on them, although in the fading light it was difficult to see the color. The trees in the park were mostly bare. I love the sight of bare branches against a grey sky.

Going up Prospect Street, we passed the parking lot for Basloe Library. I had thought to go there tonight, before opting for the walk. They are open till seven Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Perhaps I’ll make it there on Saturday. I haven’t gotten my library fix in a while.

We did not take a very long walk, but we enjoyed it. Another good thing about the cold was that a hot shower felt really good. I am now feeling all cuddly in my sweats. Having written my blog post for the day, I retire to plot real Mohawk Valley adventures for the rest of the week.

A Hastily Thrown Together Post

I worked on three different posts today and I’m not going to use any of them. Instead I offer a cooking post on tonight’s hastily thrown together supper.

I arrived home close to five o’clock with my husband, Steven, due to arrive at 5:30. I felt pressed, I felt stressed, but I was on the job. After petting my dog (priorities, you know) then washing my hands (food safety, of course), I peeled and chopped an onion. I chopped it fairly small, because onions sometimes take a long time to cook, but not too small, because I didn’t have a lot of time to spend chopping. I put it in a pot with a lid, added some olive oil and put it over medium heat, so I would have something to turn down from when it started to sizzle.

I peeled and crushed some garlic and set the timer for fifteen minutes, so it could reach its full anti-oxidant qualities. Then I realized I could actually sit down for a few. After all, the onions did not need to be stirred constantly.

The onions were practically done, some of them even browning when the timer went off. I put the garlic in the pot and stirred it up. Leave it like that for a while? Check the time. Steve would be home soon. Check the onions. Getting soft.

I added a can of chicken broth and a can of water. Then I put in some frozen spinach. For seasoning I added lemon pepper (actually the bottle says Lemon and Pepper Salt Free), McCormick All-Purpose Salt-Free for Savory (or something like that)(I know I could go downstairs and check the bottle, but it’s been a long day), and parsley flakes. I briefly lamented that I could no longer get fresh parsley from the garden, but after all, people who package dried seasonings need to make a living, too.

When the broth boiled, I added cheese tortellini. It took a little longer to cook than package directions said, because it took a while for the broth to get back to boiling, but that was no big deal. Steven had arrived home just before I added the tortellini, and he had left again to go put air in my soft tire. Did I mention he is a very good husband?

Side note: Yes, I KNOW I can pump up my own soft tires. Steven offered to do it before we ate, so it would be done. Yes, I owe him a favor. Stop shaking your feminist fingers at me (you know who you are).