Well, I pretty much struck out on what I hoped to see from the Oscars last night, though I can't say I'm surprised. I found the telecast pretty dull, though I didn't mind co-host James Franco as much as other commentators I've read today; at least I preferred his laid back approach to the somewhat manic Anne Hathaway. In the end, the best part to me was that Lena Horne got a little extra attention at the end of the Memorial montage, which was more than warranted as far as I'm concerned. And kudos to the guys from Inception who won for Cinematography and Sound Editing for crediting their union crews for their role in those wins. Even more reason for me to think that was the real movie of the year.
In the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas they have a really nice Conservatory, where they change the arrangements a couple times a year (at least it's always different when I go there). The latest set-up celebrates the Year of the Rabbit, and has an overall eastern theme, as is evident in the figure at the entrance seen above.
These guys looked like giant chia pets, but they may just be carved from some kind of vegetative bricks. Below you can see the giant rabbit that marks the character of the Chinese New Year.
The Beatles
The Searchers
"History has a long-range perspective. 
While down in Las Vegas I had the opportunity to sample several varieties of soup, three at the same place (a soup and salad bar called Sweet Tomatoes). The first of these was a potato, tomato and spinach concoction that was fairly satisfying in a hearty, rib-sticking sort of way, but not exactly what I'd call tasty. There was absolutely nothing noteworthy about the flavor, which was dominated (surprisingly to me given the mix) by the potatoes. As a hot appetizer on a cold day it would've been fine; as the centerpiece of a meal it was just too bland. I'm not sure why I expected more than that, but I did. I'd say that the odds of me ever ordering this again, especially if it was one of several options, are just about nil.
I don't know who or what films will do well in the Academy Awards this evening, but I thought I'd throw out a few thoughts on what I'd like to see happen. So this is actually more along the lines of a wish list than any serious attempt at handicapping.
Given that today is Oscar Day, with the Academy Awards being given out later tonight, I thought I would post some examples of a strip with a Hollywood connection. Rudy, by William Overgard, followed the day-to-day adventures of an unemployed talking ape.
Once a star, Rudy now was scraping by to make a living in show business, and reduced to taking any kind of job his agent could get him. His observations on life in Los Angeles in the early eighties (when the strip originally ran) was a nice corrective to the general celebrity-obsessed culture that was emerging at the time.
Not a classic in the usual sense, but certainly a very nice strip that was unsung in its own time, and unfortunately largely forgotten today. But Overgard's work is worth remembering as a good example of the satiric potential of the medium.
"Let the workers organize. Let the toilers 
I spent the past few days down in Las Vegas visiting family and catching some sights. Here are a few pics I snapped my first evening in town, just strolling around the strip. First is a shot of the plaza in front of Bally's, with the Paris' Eiffel Tower in the background.
This is from a little ways up the Boulevard, looking across to the Bellagio sign, and behind that, the blue lights of the new Cosmopolitan complex.
The light here is a giant Prada sign, that makes a great background for silhouettes as pedestrians pass it front. This is just outside the second level of the mall at the new City Center complex.
Last is a traditional shot of the water show at the Bellagio, which always attracts a crown. It's one of the nicest spots to be outdoors in the evening in all of Las Vegas. I'll have a bunch more photos to post in coming days.
Bachman-Turner Overdrive 
The Animals
"The world is made up for the most
J. R. Williams Out Our Way was one of the classic single panel slice-of-life strips that originated back in the 1920s. These few examples are all from 1925.
These really deserve the label of Americana, offering a wonderful snapshot of the kind of small scale events that defined life in espeially small town America (or at least, what we'd want to believe such life was like).
The strips focusing on kids are especially favorites of mine. They represent a view of childhood that's tough to capture in popular culture without coming off overly sweet or exaggerated. In that way, they kind of remind me of the best Little Rascals movies which depicted kids just being kids.
“We cannot seek achievement for ourselves and
There have been a bunch of books over the years devoted to bad movies. I remember, for one example, reading The Golden Turkey Awards way back before author Michael Medved became the pop culture maven of right-wing radio. That book, like many of the genre, was all about scoring cheap-shots on its targets without offering anything resembling critical analysis (now that I think of it, a perfect calling card for someone who would eventually get into the right-wing radio biz). Such books were often funny, but ultimately forgettable since they weren't really intended as anything more than an exercise in snarkiness. Nathan Rabin's My Year of Flops is a different kind of project altogether. Collecting columns written for the Onion A.V. Club, it truly is a work of criticism in the noblest sense of that term. Rabin is much more interested in examining how and why the selected films fell short of expectations (both commercial and artistic) and, though he offers his fair share of funny asides where appropriate, he's really more interested in making sense of the eventual disconnect between filmmaker and audience that defines each failure. Actually, even that oversimplifies the breadth of the book, since in any given instance there could be multiple points of such disconnect, any one of which might derail a particular project. Beyond the filmmaker/audience dichotomy, there also lurk such players as the studios, the critics, and broader social forces that all contribute to the context for disappointment (or for that matter, with different films, success). Recognizing how these factors combine (in various ratios) to effect the prospects of any individual project, and then applying his own critical perspective, Rabin offers a concluding summary for each film covered, labeling it a failure, a fiasco, or a secret success. If you've followed movies over the past half-century, you'll be familiar with virtually all of his subjects-- Cleopatra, Heaven's Gate, Ishtar, and most of the other predictable candidates for inclusion. But there are some more esoteric choices as well-- e.g. The End of Violence, Pennies From Heaven, Tough Guys Don't Dance-- which, while eminently qualified as flops on one scale or another, were hardly the pop culture landmarks of their more notorious brethren. In all cases, I found Rabin's analysis thoughtful and useful, insofar as it made me think (or rethink) through some of my reactions to these or even other films. It also made me want to go back and look at some of these so-called flops (Heaven's Gate, for one) with, as much as is possible, fresh eyes untainted by the expectation I'll be witnessing a train wreck.
"Let no man think we can deny civil liberty
Over the years, I've had the chance to literally criss-cross the nation with my niece Natalie and her family. So, there are a lot of potential answers to this question: in what state was this photo taken? Put your guesses in the comments section.
I stumbled onto this website today and thought I would pass along the link. It provides information on an art project/book by the artist Robert Shetterly celebrating, as the title puts it, Americans Who Tell the Truth (aimed primarily at young people). It's a fairly eclectic group, contemporary and historic, each represented by a portrait, quote and brief biography. In every case, these are the kinds of people who deserve more of the public's attention than the legions of blowhards presently corrupting our social and political discourse (mainly because our media gatekeepers favor loud noisy confrontation over thoughtful analysis and discussion). Maybe this project will help to start re-establishing their place in the public consciousness, though I admit that seems like a mighty tall order at this point.
While the last picture of Natalie was rather wintry in tone, here's a nice summer shot (albeit in b&w) of Sara. This was taken, I'm pretty sure, at Saltwater State Park near Tacoma.
This picture of Natalie was shot in early January out at Hunter's Creek. I think it turned out pretty good, but then it helps to have a good subject.
Whenever current events have got me down, I can always count on a visit to Toonerville to make me feel little bit better.
"In all history there is no war which
Once again, as the snow falls outside my window, I'm thinking of warmer climes. Here are three pictures of the Pacific Ocean taken on a trip down the coast of Southern California back in 2007. The first two were taken at Pismo Beach (as I recall), a couple hundred miles west of Los Angeles.
The third is a shot off the Santa Monica Pier, where obviously I wasn't the only one enjoying the view.
"A good upbringing means not that you
I'm looking forward to a visit to Las Vegas next week, and thought I'd look through some photos of past trips to put myself in the proper mood (by which I mean, the mood to take more pictures). Above is a night view of a part of Caesar's Palace from Las Vegas Blvd.
Here's part of the facade outside of the Paris Hotel & Casino. The latticework is part of the base of the faux Eiffel Tower there.
Last is a shot looking north up the strip from the walkway connecting the MGM Grand and New York New York. Las Vegas is definitely a fun place to carry around a camera, and it especially lends itself to black and white. Look for more after I return.
"If it had not been for the discontent of a few 
The Guess Who
Deep Purple
"A life spent in constant labor is a life 
I mentioned the other day that, given the ten films nominated, I would've voted for Stagecoach for the Best Picture Oscar back in 1939 (supposedly the greatest year in film history). But even so, I'm not convinced that John Ford's great film was even the best western made that year. In fact, for pure entertainment value, I'd likely give the nod to Destry Rides Again. Directed by the the incredibly prolific, if not exactly exalted, George Marshall, Destry is a near perfect blend of comedy and action. Jimmy Stewart plays the low key title character, brought to a wild town to restore order by an old pal of his father's who suddenly finds himself wearing a sheriff's badge. The new deputy, much to his boss's surprise and shame, arrives and immediately eschews the use of guns or force to maintain order (totally contrary to his reputation, or for that matter, his father's). Of course, as the story unfolds, he is forced to revise his attitude somewhat, but this is one of those cases where the sum of the plot is ultimately much less interesting than the little bits of business that make up the individual scenes. Most of these are stolen by some of the greatest character actors in Hollywood history: Billy Gilbert as a bartender, Una Merkel as a boarding house proprietress, Mischa Auer as her mail order husband (he may not literally be that, but it amuses me to think so, given his role in the story), Charles Winninger as the sheriff nee town drunk, Allen Jenkins as a henchman to the main villain. None of these folks are stars of the rank of Marlene Dietrich, Brian Donlevy or Stewart-- all of whom are also really good-- but it is their presence and performances that elevate this to classic status. Without them it would be a run of the mill oater. Auer in particular makes me laugh, and is almost as good here as he was in My Man Godfrey, struggling to get out from under the gilded reputation of his wife's first husband (made all the more difficult when he loses his only pair of pants in a poker game). I believe one of the hardest things to do in movies (or maybe any kind of story-telling) is to strike a true balance between comedy and drama, especially when violence is a strong element in the latter. But Destry Rides Again could be the model for getting it right. I watched it last night (at least the fourth time I've seen it), and I'm already looking forward to seeing it again.
Abbie and Slats was one of the most beautifully drawn strips ever. Created by the noted illustrator Raeburn Van Buren and Al Capp (creator of Lil Abner, who wrote the scripts for Van Buren's artwork), it featured the adventures of , Abbie, the bighearted but prickly maiden aunt and Slats, the rough-edged young man who often found himself at odds with the bluenoses of little Crabtree Corners. 
The real star, at least in the more comic Sunday adventures, was "Bathless" Groggins, the reprobate father of Slats' girlfriend Becky. As you can see from the above example especially, "Bathless" had a knack of getting under other peoples' skin. 
I only discovered this strip years after its heyday (it ran from 1937 to 1971, but never in a paper I saw as a kid). But it made an immediate impression and deserves to be remembered as the classic it was, every bit as good as contemporary "good art" strips like Terry & the Pirates and Prince Valiant.
