international!
HOLY subtitles, Batman!!
right in my wee town!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~for more delicious haiku my heart
with
recuerda mi corazon,
please pop in over here~~~
~~~~~~~
How many films can One watch in 4 days?
{{ St Augustine Film Festival }}
{{ I will give no more hints but this one --->
beeswax is involved in the nicest way! }}
Come with me under these moss~dripping trees and I will show you where the rock stars hang out when they are in town.
See where the high school boys sit on the rails. They are waiting, I suppose, for the girls to arrive.
The girls, no doubt, are still at home trying to decide which flip~flops to wear as this is Florida after all and the weather is already somewhat balmy.
Stick with me and you can forget about buying a ticket. I will transform you into a VIP.
Tonight is movie night, which is free anyway, so it is not like I am a big spender, or anything like that.
That is me... Click, click, click.
Notice the rules: No refunds. No re~entry.
{{ No robbing the place either... }}
This is a one~stop amphitheater.
We have tomatoes and green peppers for sell at the Farmer's Market on Saturday morning and then we have The Moody Blues rocking out on Saturday night.
Isn't life grand!
The concerts at the St. Augustine Amphitheatre are scheduled with a certain degree of faith and conviction as this IS the sunshine state and we are ever~hopeful about the weather.
Let me take one moment and point out to you that the plant above is NOT poison ivy.
I rant on and on frequently about poison ivy and I wanted you to know that HERE you can lean against the walls and not worry about any dire consequences.
Here are the infamous and well~located steps where I normally stand and greet people as they arrive. Just me and 3 other volunteers. We are all crazy about what we do.
We wear bright red T~shirts so you can spot us right away. Plus, it says 'Volunteer' on the back so that is handy, too.
"Welcome!, " I say, when positioned on the stairs as a Greeter, "We are so glad to see you!"
Then I point out the important facts straight away.
Ta~da!
Here you go. Pick a seat. Not a bad one in the house.
Most of the seats are covered by these permanent tent~tops in case the Florida sun shine does not.
I love the tent~tops. The light funnels in and makes it kind of cozy. I love the umbrella~ness of it.
A bit like a circus, too.
Step right up.
On the stage tonight is a big screen for the movie.
Just for you I have arranged one of my favorite films of all time.
On movie nights I might help search for temporarily misplaced pre~teens.
On concert nights I might help folks find their seats and answer important questions about concessions and such.
After a rock concert starts I might walk down to the edge of the pit to lend a hand. Sometimes fans cannot negotiate stairs in their best manner while carrying containers of spirited drink. You can well imagine.
I do my best to be helpful.
I wish you could see all the smiling faces as this band or that plays! People sing and sway and jump up and jive and bop.
My heart is lifted. The tent~tops can not hold in the happiness and the good feelings bubble up.
The happiness swells and rolls up and over the wind~swept tree tops.
The happiness drifts up and out and eventually finds its way over the sea.
Under the happy ocean waves the jelly fish jive and the crabs bop.
If you come to town, let me know. I will check for happiness events.
I have been known to dance down there on that pleasantly wide stage,
jiving and bopping in my own fashion.
Some time ago...Long, long ago...
{{ Well, it might have been
last summer... }}
Yesterday I ran smack*dab into Steven Seagal. He was at my market picking up jars of Barilla Tomato & Basil Spaghetti Sauce which were buy 1, get 1 free. I was tempted myself but Barilla is not my usually brand.
In an obvious effort not to stare, I looked down and happened to notice Steven also had this is his shopping buggy and this, too, which surprised me a bit but with stars you never know.
Even though I can not name one single movie Steven has ever made I was beside myself with secret pleasure at my star*sighting.
Steven Seagal! In my market here in St. Augustine, Florida!
What were the chances?
Well, the chances turned out to be slim-to-none as it turned out NOT to be Steven Seagal at all, which I realized after about 2 minutes, AFTER I had memorized the entire contents of his shopping cart FOR NOTHING!
Then I realized this guy looked way too young to be Steven Seagal. Plus, no offense, Steven, it happens to the best of us, but hasn't the real Steven Seagal porked out a bit lately?
This guy pushing the cart in my market was so kick*ss fit I was ready to go on the Steven Seagal Barilla Tomato & Basil Spaghetti Sauce Diet.
This guy looked so much like the Steven Seagal of, say, 20 years ago, it almost made me think I was possibly looking at Steven Seagal's son.
It might have been. Who is to say? Does he have one? This would have explained everything.
If it HAD been Steven Seagal's son most likely I would not have even looked into his shopping cart. But I might have as I am nosy that way.
Does this ever happen to you?
You see some one or something and your personal schemata yells out one thing when you KNOW on some level it is not that thing at all.
When I say apple do you see this? When I say apple I am thinking this.
Are we seeing the same thing when we talk of apples?
When I see a fit man with a certain bearing wearing dark, combed back hair, maybe I just see Steven Seagal. I do know know why.
When I think of pirates I see this one, don't you?
The hole in my retina has all healed up and the healing bubble has dissipated. My vision is now20/30 and getting better all the time. When I look around, I name the things I see with a certain degree of confidence.
When I see Steven Seagal in my market, it is not due to poor vision. I simply view life sometimes with my stellar imagination. That is all. I bet you are the same way. I hope you are.
Did I I tell you? Last evening I ran smack*dab into this one at the pond near my house. I was beside myself with secret pleasure at my star*sighting.
When walking through a darken room you should take the utmost care or you might trip on one of these. If you do trip and land on your right knee it might look like this the next day.
Still, that might not be too bad if you just camp out like this for a few days. Kick back and read this and then you might be OK. Maybe.
Whatever you do, if your knee feels a bit wonky after four days, do not go here and do not get on this. OK, if you do, only do it for 1000 meters or so. Do not try to beat your personal best time. Do not go for another 1000 meters and then another 1000 meters.
Listen.
Just because you can do something does not mean you should. That is all I am saying. Learn to take it easy. Learn to sit back and chill and watch movies like this.
What happens if you do go to the gym and go a bit over board? Well, you might need one of these. And maybe one of these, too. You might find out you have torn this. When you do this, make no mistake, it feels like this. There is very little you can do about it except to schedule this.
Man.
I have learned my lesson. The next time I trip and take a tumble, I am staying here and eating vast amounts of these, which is pretty much all I am good for until I have this next week and can start this, which will take place here.
Go figure.
In the mean time, I will be hanging out eating these from here where they have graphic designers to make sweet, juicy art like in the sweet, juicy ad above.
When all this is over I might just go back to this. But you know me, I don't want to miss a thing. We will see.
One of the local cable TV channels recently ran the remake of the movie Alfie. You might know the one I mean, the 2004 romantic comedy where Jude Law plays the handsome British womanizer. Some of my younger friends didn't even know this was a remake of the original film starring Michael Caine in 1966.
The older Alfie with Michael Caine was cutting edge at the time because it was all about Free Love and the story took place in the carefree Hippy era. There were not too many movies around back then [the olden days] about couples even living together without being married, or at least they did not play in the sleepy neighborhood of my quasi-rural Florida town, and I was after all, only 2 years old [<---a shameless lie] at the time of Alfie's release.
This newer 2004 version with the handsome but somewhat skinny Jude Law seemed not so entertaining to me as the original. The character, cute and well-dressed as he was, was a conniving cad, a real rascal and, while I couldn't help but like him with his cutie-patootie and GQ wardrobe, the movie was mostly sad to me. Alfie zoomed from one bed to the next and as the movie progressed all the girls starting looking alike to me. They all looked like They Should Wise Up.
I was quite pleased when sexy Susan Sarandon, as the older woman, put Alfie/Jude in his place. Good for her! After all, she had found a younger man. Well, she should know about that, I suppose.
Looking for something to take away from this bit of comedy/tragedy, I latched onto Alfie's habit of a new-word-a-day. Every morning after dressing from his well-appointed, never-ending closet, Alfie learned a new word from his word-a-day calendar. He looked into the camera, told us the word and its definition and then walked out the door to make the word and the day his own.
If Alfie had stuck with only the new-word-a-day and given up the new-girlfriend-a-day, the movie might have had a happier ending. A happy ending goes a long way with me. A happy ending get Bonus Points. I won't give a *spoiler* here as you may want to spend some time with Alfie yourself. That Jude Law is tasty eye-candy for sure but I still prefer my Johnny Depp.
After watching the modern day Alfie I signed up here for one of those word-a-day emails. Like I don't have enough email coming at me left and right! But I love learning new things and haven't studied word lists since taking exams for graduate school. I saw this as furthering my education...for free and on my own schedule.
Promptly every morning a new word arrives in my email, a little present to unwrap. Several interesting words have come my way. Last month I received eructation. I tried all day to work that into my conversation and finally gave up on it. Be my guest and let me know how that word works for you.
Many words I have received are not new to me at all but I don't use them often as words have to have a certain mouth-feel before I will use them regularly. Words have their own personality. These were not new: trenchant and languid. I would use trenchant, but I lack the force and vigor required. The word languid makes me want to take a nap. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz...I fall asleep before I get to the d.
Some words I received were like old friends that I had not seen in a while. We recognized each other right off the bat.
"Hi ,there, sotto voco, how are you doing?" I asked just last week. "How's the family?"
"mmmmm" mumbled sotto voco, "mmmmmm."
You can see why I have not bothered with him.
"Welcome, serendipity, where have you been?" I asked just yesterday. "I am honestly pleased but surprised to see you here."
"Well, funny you should ask, somepinkflowers! I have been over to see Bleeding Espresso," serendipity explains with her usual smiling face. "She sent me this way to tell you that you have won an award!"
And so I had. It was the Thoughtful Blogger Award which is
"for those who answer blog comments, emails, and make their visitors feel at home on their blogs. For the people who take others' feelings into consideration before speaking out and who are kind and courteous. Also for all of those bloggers who spend so much of their time helping others bloggers design, improve, and fix their sites. This award is for those generous bloggers who think of others."
That sweet, now Italian girl! It was so very thoughtful of sognatrice to give me this award as she is, well, so truly thoughtful and immediately I can see why the award had been given to her. Everywhere I go in Blog-World there is songatrice with a word of cheery encouragement sitting sweetly and with a sense of wit in a comment box. I do not know how she does it!
Specific in her compliments and helpful to boot, she asks for feedback and then responds to yours. If you leave her a comment, she gets back to you as if she were your best friend or your favorite sister or maybe both all rolled into one.
[Plus, and this has absolutely NOTHING to do with being Thoughtful but I decided to throw it in here anyway as we already have Jude Law, sognatrice's husband is adorable looking and would definitely fall into the Johnny Depp category.]
Raised a Girl Scout, I have pledged 'to help people at all times' and I do give it my best shot. Mostly I like people and I like how most people like other people, too. I love how serendipity comes into play when you skip across the universe in Blog-World. You never know what you are going to find and it is always a treat to stumble upon the like-minded without warning.
I have found some Thoughtful wonders in my blogging lifetime. I pass the Thoughtful Blogger Award on to these mighty fine and amazingly thoughtful bloggettes:
Why these three? Simple, really. All three have reached out in a friendly fashion to me and others and have offered additional useful information. They will send you on to where you need to be. Every one lives in the same busy-dizzy world but the comments left by these creative three are personal and fun to read. More important, because of their personal style, I like them and how they play so well with others.
If you have the time, Happy Ones, past this award to others. Not to worry. Carry on with your regular helpful ways.
And, not to seem verbose, didactic or pedantic, if you want to find other Thoughtful Bloggers, read my bloglist over there on the right. Not a thoughtless one in the bunch! These are my merry matutinal thoughts this Saturday.
Thanks ever so, miss sognatrice, for thinking of me! I am off now for the beach with Harry Potter and his wizard words for the day.
Deadly tornadoes to the near south and west of me last month. Deadly tornadoes to the far north and west of me this week. I count on this time of the year, depend on it really, to be free from heavy storms. I can deal with mild north Florida cold but where are these tornadoes coming from? Hurricane season does not start until May and I am hunkered down by tornado warnings creeping across the bottom of the TV screen like some bad dog sneaking into town.
Really it is more than I can stand. All this constant, insistent rain. Yesterday I did not leave the house. I cocooned. I cleaned house changing sheets on every bed in hopeful anticipation of house guests that will not be here for weeks. It will need to be done again before my friends arrive but that does not matter. I needed the action and the smell of fresh linen in the air to improved my spirits. Spike-the-cat alternately showed his concern and then sulked out of the way.
I drank tons of Lady Grey tea and lit scented candles in every room to ward off the bad storm gods. I watched The Illusionist with handsome Edward Norton while folding newly washed beach towels that will not be used for quite sometime. This romantic thriller might have not been the best choice for such a gloomy day but this movie was loaned to me and needed to soon be returned. Traveling DVDs, like misplaced kittens, often make their way into my home by some cosmic schedule that weaves what they have to offer with my own specific need. I tend to look for signs and thus find them everywhere.
Yesterday I was just pushing for days of spring & days of summer, days of dry & light. My sweet neighbor across the street, Dear Jean, likes it when I write of happy things, not sad things. But some days are just blue days and I could not help but think of the young adults who had died in the high school there in Enterprise, Alabama. Huddled in the hall while the tornado worked its devilish havoc. I thought of the parents and their immense and everlasting sadness. My heart goes out.
But that was yesterday. This morning, even though the rain still intrudes, even though I am still touched by all that seemingly senseless young death, I am on my way to the gym and to met a friend. Two blue days in a row would be my undoing.
Sucked right in by the promise of a feel-good chick-flick, I put my money down and walked right in to see Music and Lyrics starring Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore. If you think I'm going to make fun of this one, blog on over to somewhere else. While the movie isn't Ben Hur or Gone With the Wind, it has appeal on several levels. When I left the movie I was singing a happy tune. Works for me.
Grant plays a washed up, 1980s pop star who is presently paying his bills by preforming at county fairs and theme parks. Those gigs must pay well as he is based out of New York City and he hires someone to water his houseplants. So much for the concept of willing suspension of disbelief. It could happen. I have a friend who does the same thing for a living and he lives in a condo here on the beach.
The opening credits feature Hugh Grant singing and preforming in a music video in the style of the 80s. He has it down to a T. With his shake-your-bootie dance steps and with his shirt opened down to THERE, I started having 1980s flashbacks.
I never knew Hugh Grant could be so sexy!
I was surprised how well he danced around and moved his tail-feathers, if you know what I mean. The man has British dry wit out the yin-yang but until this movie I never though he had Mick Jagger moves. He actually does. Looking cute with his pop music rock star haircut he was more than believable. I was almost beginning to remember his group, Pop, from the the 80s even though that group exists nowhere but in this movie.
"Hey, somepinkflowers, do you remember him from the Ed Sullivan Show?,' I asked myself as I sat there in the dark woofing down unbuttered popcorn and my smuggled in Italian soda water.
'Yes, I do remember,' I replied whole-heartedly, 'I do, I really do!'
I think I had Hugh Grant mixed up with Rick Springfield because that is how he looked in this movie.
And, how can you not like quirky, spontaneous Drew Barrymore? When I think of her I smile. In the game of life I would want her on my team.
When the male lead meets the female lead for the first time in a chick-flick movie I feel so powerful. I know things they don't yet know. I know there will be a happy ending. The guy will get the girl, the girl will get the guy. Just add clever humor, a catchy song and, for me personally, a nicely furnished apartment in a fun city or a villa in a dreamy country where they can live happily ever after.
I get that and my money is well spent.
I feel his whisper-light kiss on my feverish forehead, I hear his recognizable voice through my pillow-hidden ear and and I know what this means. William Hurt is still here.
"You just need to get out of this bed," William urges, taking my hand and pulling me gently upright. 
He shoves a cup of hot Earl Grey into my seemingly distant hand. My hand sits there in another country. My head moves in slo-mo and I wait patiently for it to catch up with the rest of my body.
"I know you, and you haven't eaten properly, have you?" William continues and begins to lure me up and away from the bed. "You'll feel better once you've showered and washed your hair."
To me William is always Ned Racine from Body Heat, not Rochester from Jane Eyre, or Luis Alberto Molina from Kiss of the Spider Woman. He is certainly never Tuck. When Ned walks through the glass doors for Kathleen Turner, that pretty much did it for me. William will always be my favorite sleazy Florida lawyer. And I know several.
"What is your motto, somepinkflowers?," asks William who is so insistent sometimes. "What are you always telling me? 
Act as if? That's right, isn't it? Act As If. Do it now, please. Act as if you are at the top of your game. Act as if you are in the pink. Just do it. For me."
That William! I could never deny him a thing. The first time we met was in Barnes & Noble. He placed his usual black coffee order with Joanne, the cafe manager, who leaned over and whispered to William politely so others could not hear, "Has anyone every told you that you look just like William Hurt?"
So charming is William that he leaned back over and whispered to her, "Yes, I get that all the time." That was the moment I knew I loved him.
William was in town making a Hallmark movie, The Flamingo Rising, and one thing lead to another and that is how he came into my life. Sort of.
Only not this morning. Here is how William Hurt came into my life this morning: Drugs. My friend, over the counter, Benadryl.
If you look at that Earl Grey tea bag closely, you'll notice it says Decaffeinated. I am allergic to caffeine. I cannot even eat coffee ice cream without flying high from the caffeine for days. Same with chocolate. Meds like Benadryl really do a number on me. I am speedy and slow-motion at the same time. Not a pretty sight.
Having the last laugh on This Cold, last night around midnight I threw caution out the window and swallowed a Benadryl. 
I can breath this morning but William Hurt danced around my dreams all night long. We seemed to be in some sort of altered state. William Hurt hallucinations are not so bad.
At one point we were paddling matching green kayaks down the St. Johns River. Very pleasant, actually.
It could have been way worse.
I could have been sharing the night with dear old John Hurt.
In the comedy Friends with Money Jennifer Aniston's lead character plays The Loser. Like that would ever happen. ((OK, maybe with Brad but, honestly, I think she is better off without him.)) In the movie Jennifer's sisters are played by Catherine Keener, Frances McDormand and Joan Cusack. What family of sisters could be better? If my parents had produced six girl children rather than the two, I would have been quite content with these women for sisters.
I am a big, big fan of Joan Cusack. Even in her most polished role she regularly plays a bit of a kooky character. She always seem sort of bumbly-stumbly, tall, thin, animated and fun. I like it when she shares movies with her real life brother John as in High Fidelity, Say Anything and Grosse Pointe Blank. I love their shared quirkiness. I would select John for the brother role in my imaginary family. I never had a brother but I think John Cusack would have been an extremely cool one. And he is so good-looking. I think that being good-looking would be a useful trait in a brother.
Lately I have been charmingly captured by Joan as she stars in her own TV show called Joan Cusack's Local Flavor. In this production for the Travel Channel Joan travels around the world, meets smiling chefs in interesting decorated, small family-owned restaurants and she cooks with them. Then she sits down to an attractively set dining table and chats them up while eating the most amazingly delicious looking food. Somehow it even looks like it smells good.
In between all of the food adventure where Joan plays her goofy self and dead-pans the camera, she walks around the neighborhood and plays tourist. She talks slowly in English and waves her hands around and I think how enjoyable it would be to travel through Europe with Joan and whoever she has doing her ironing and her hair.
While I might enjoy having Joan as a sibling, what I am actually pining for here is her job. Joan travels, walks, cooks, talks and eats. Then she gets paid for doing it. Talk about your dream job! Last week she went to Athens, Greece, cooked up some souvlakia and had time left over to have leather sandals custom-made by a local poet-celebrity. I am not making this up. How does she find these people?
At one point in a local food market, her own young son wanders into camera view and Joan, screwing up her face endearingly with a tilt of her head and sporting incredulously wide-eyes, says, "Wow, look! How did my own son happen to just show up here in Greece?" Sure, it sounds a bit hokey now but I love Joan Cusack and believe only the best about her. 
Last night Joan was in Paris, France, so you can imagine my excitement. Parisian cuisine has been on my mine for sometime now after dreaming in French several days ago ((See November 4th posting.)) She visited the Poilane Bakery where she kneaded bread dough and plopped it around. Cooks are always asking her if she wants to try to make something and, surprise, surprise, she says, "Sure...Why not?" with a shrug of her bony shoulders.
See, that is why I believe I'd like to travel with Joan Cusack. She seems like she would be up for a bit of craziness. "Hey, Joan, want to run naked down the Champs-Elysee and stop for some hot chocolate?" I'd ask. ((Not that I'd actually run naked down the Champs-Elysee but, as it is always so crowded, who would notice?))
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