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Saturday, October 27, 2007
breakfast club, and Stranger Than Fiction
Listening to:Across the Universe, in my head
Reading:stuff
Weather:53, gray, breezy
Yesterday morning I dropped Liv off at school and headed for the Blue Moose. A pretty typical start to my weekday morning. But it was Friday, and a particularly welcome one, the week was a bit of a bitch, I'll spare you the details. And like a cosmic reward I found myself among 3 of the grooviest gents I know for some fascinating breakfast conversation.

It was about 7:45a, and I sidled up to the counter and sat in my usual seat next to my usual seatmate Al Campbell, who was not yet finished with the DA crossword. Joey Gatski, mountain poet and songwriter, son of Gunner, and beloved drunkard came in with a smile on his face. Hadn't seen him in a few months. Then in walks a surprise guest, Eric Clark, the visual artist formerly known as Dread E, former Greenbag Road resident, and all around beautiful dude.

These cats have some things in common. First, they are all out there. They live pretty far outside the mainstream slave-and-spend plastic world. Each is incredibly resourceful, necessarily so, and can fix or fashion just about anything. Each has a deep reverence for the natural world and knows untold shitloads about plants and animals (you'd want any one of them as your companion if you were lost in the woods). And each has a razor wit and a seriously bent sense of humor. And not one of them is magazine-style attractive, but each is has a totally unique sexiness about him. And of course each has his demons, don't we all.

So picture cat, Friday morning of a wicked week, drinking a fresh cup of banana nut coffee with a sugar and some cream, trading one-liners with 3 amazing men. I know, you're wishing you were me. And just to titillate you further here are a few choice fragments overheard by the other patrons. . ."yeah, I should get back to working on my book about the murders at Sugar Grove". . ."one time I about got my ass kicked by a snowy owl". . ."hot grease all over your legs, let's just leave it at that ". . ."when's your film premier again? once I find out the pacific time I'll let you know. hell that was 3 hours ago!" I hated to leave to go to work, but I got a round of love and well wishes on my way out.

You had to be there, I guess.

But my day ended up sweet, too. Liv and Brandin decided to go to the Zombie flix at the Warner. I went home and started preparing Liv's Halloween party (tonight). I baked cupcakes, made deviled eggs, cleaned and sliced raw veggies, made dip, and stumbled on a really good movie on cable.

Stranger Than Fiction was a 2006 movie I don't remember hearing about. It stars Will Ferrell, but not in the usual comic style you expect. He actually acts in this movie, and it was surprising to me that he's actually pretty good. In a way it's a kind of more hollywood romantic version of Being John Malkovitch. Will Ferrell is a steady routine and lifeless IRS agent who determines that the narrating voice in his head is actually a murder novelist with writer's block trying to finish the story in which he is the main character. Lots of interest mind bends there. And there are several other great actors in the film, Dustin Hoffman, Linda Hunt, Queen Latifah, others. And I knew I found a good one when in the first 5 minutes the soundtrack included Death or Glory by the Clash. Cool inventive story, some interesting sets, good acting, good soundtrack, I give it two thumbs up. Especially if you're watching it while baking.

And coming up next weekend, Fredstock and the Hungry Muthas. . .


permalink posted by cat 9:22 AM

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breakfast club, and Stranger Than Fiction
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