CALL ME SNAKE

I don’t normally rent a movie from the video store that I haven’t heard anything about. And I didn’t do that tonight, although I came close. A couple of weeks ago, I pulled “Big Bad Swim” off the shelves and got curious about it. I found some reviews (favorable) online and kept it in mind. One of the reviews said something to the effect that no one would see this movie–as it lacks any big-name stars or even little-name stars–which was a shame. And it is a shame as it is nicely written and quite enjoyable. Who would have figured a movie about an adult swim class could be so much fun? A movie about handball or volleyball maybe, but adult swimming? Yet it really works.

I suppose that most people will never hear of this movie and fewer still will see it but if one person does as a result of this post I will consider writing it five minutes well spent.

Why do all the newspapers and NPR radio shows buy into the idea that in the summer we should be reading different kinds of books than we read the rest of the year? I personally don’t buy it which is why I call this trend (admittedly an entrenched one by now) the Great Summer Reading Scam.

I went to the Y to swim yesterday, arriving there at the same time as someone else I recognized from the pool. Upon checking in, he requested three towels. I believe he picked three because that’s the maximum allowed under his membership plan. (The maxmum allowed under my membership plan is zero.) Maybe I’m making too much of it, but I don’t know why a guy needs three large towels just to go in the swimming pool. I only need one, and it’s a pretty skimpy one at that. But this guy somehow feels he needs three, as do many other members, I’m sure, under the same membership plan. On the one hand, they’re not doing anything wrong: they’re just taking what comes to them with their membership. But three towels per person per visit means a lot of hot water is going down the drain to clean them, which means a lot of energy is consumed as well. Americans use more energy per capita than any other nation on Earth and this is one of the reasons why.

Has there ever been a player like Manny Ramirez? In yesterday’s game in Baltimore, he caught a ball at the left field fence, gave a high five to a fan wearing Red Sox regalia (IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PLAY!), and then hurled the ball to first where he doubled up a runner. That shows, as much as anything else, that this extraordinarily talented player, who makes a ton of money, is in it for more than just money. He plays for fun, and, if you ask me, that’s what we need more of in professional sports.

Ah, the hypocrisy of it all. Hillary Clinton has chastised Obama for the words of Jeremiah Wright, saying “he would not have been my pastor.” But what happened when Bill Clinton got caught in a sex scandal some years ago, sending the family into crisis mode? According to this week’s NEW YORKER, “the Clintons summomed the clergy (including, by the way, the Reverend Jeremiah Wright).”

So why was that bombshell buried within a parenthetical, when it is big news in my book? I have no idea. Personally I think it’s enough to bring Hillary Clinton down because of the sheer hypocrisy–because she has been beating Obama so hard over the Wright business–while he was someone her family personally turned to in a time of P.R. need. So what’s the explanation: “You can pick your pastor but not during a highly-publicized family crisis”? I’d like to see this story become front-page news, which it ought to be, given the currently ridiculous tenor of the presidential campaign.

We’ve been hearing a lot lately about how much the middle class is hurtin’, and I know–from personal experience–how hard it is to make ends meet these days. I happened to choose a profession where financial renumeration has barely gone up in 20 years. The thing is, after tonight’s (last night’s, for the sticklers) debate between Barack and Hillary, I’m not sure I’m even close to the middle class. Clinton promised not to raise taxes for middle-class families earning LESS THAN $250,000. And she wasn’t talking about how much they earned in a decade. That was for a single year. I don’t know how you define middle class, and I have even discussed that very topic in these pages, but I never figured it extended up to that lofty register. By my standards, folks earning that kind of bread are way beyond middle class. Them are rich.

How many times in a movie have you seen two characters disrobing near the doorway and making their way into the bedroom? Too many to count, I’m sure. But how many times have you seen one of those characters taking off a bicycle leg protector? I’ve only seen it once, in “The Jane Austen Book Club,” which is enough to qualify the movie as an original in my book, even if it did seem contrived in parts. The guy wearing the leg protector was played by Hugh Dancy, whose performance alone made the movie worth watching. How can those Brits do such a good job of playing Americans when I’ve yet to see the American actor (male or female) who can convincingly play a Brit?

Yesterday I heard an interesting interview of the authors (David Brock and Paul Waldman) of a book critical of John McCain. The media, they claim, has given McCain a free pass. In one month, they found that he was referred to as a “maverick” 1200 times–not by his staff but by so-called journalists who are not paid to do PR for the candidate. Has McCain earned that moniker? Not according to the authors who say that McCain has voted with his party 85% of the time, which puts him squarely in the middle of the pack. By that standard if he’s a maverick so are most of the people in Congress, and we know that’s not true.

Movies about dysfunctional families have long since become a cliche. But every now and then one comes along that truly breaks the mold. The latest to do that is “Margot at the Wedding,” a literary tour-de-force set on film. The writing in this movie crackles like that of a good novel. The scenes in the film ring true and real, though despite the humor (“laughs that draw blood”) it depicts a reality of the grimmest sort.

Now there’s a new book coming out by former Cheney henchman, Douglas Feith, an architect of the Iraq War, who blames everyone else for the problems in Iraq. From what I gather about the book, Feith suggests the plan was perfect but that everybody other than the Pentagon–the Army, Department, intelligence community–just couldn’t implement his brilliant scheme. Who on earth would want to publish such garbage? And, more importantly, who on earth would want to read it?

As I said the other day, I don’t have much use for the Oscars mainly because they are meaningless. Only certain kind of movies  are named Best Picture (hint: they’ve gotta be “big”) and only certain kinds of performances (never subtle and having some infirmity never hurts either) get you a Best Actor. Still, there was one award I was very happy about–the winsome couple from “Once” (Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova) winning for their thoroughly enjoyable song, “Falling Slowly.” Both certainly overcame great odds to get there, and I for one was thrilled to hear about it.

Have the Oscars ever seemed less relevant than they did last night? I didn’t watch more than a couple of minutes but did see some clips on the late news, and here are a few random comments: I’m a fan of many Coen bros. pictures but I don’t get their latest one at all; it didn’t even get a “thumbs up” in my book. (Calling it “overrated” pretty much goes without saying for something named “Best Picture” of the year.) Nor would I have nominated Javier B. for best supporting actor because so far as I could tell, he wasn’t playing a character that was remotely human. Although Clooney did not win the statue, he got the best consolation prize of the night: a kiss from Daniel Day Lewis (who appeared to be overacting from the vein-popping clips) sporting a silly hairstyle and ridiculous pirate earrings. Helen Mirren looked good for her age. Julie Christie looked too good for her age. I liked when Tilda Swinton admitted she thought it would be “anyone but her.” Scott Rudin thanked his “honey,” without whom none of this would have been possible. So maybe I’d better wise up and thank honey too.

I’m feeling pretty proud of myself: I’ve gone five whole days without once bashing Mitt Romney, in  the process showing incredible restraint and impressive willpower. Well after dropping off the radar briefly, Mitt got himself back in the news the other day by endorsing John McCain (a man who detested Romney, calling him a “pig,” according to yesterday’s Boston Globe). Why did Romney do it? To help McCain? No. He did it for the same reason he does anything else: to help Romney.

Sorry to repeat myself, but doesn’t Congress have more important things to think about than whether Roger Clemens did or did not use steroids or HGH? And supposing he or his trainer is thought to have lied under oath, doesn’t the federal government have more important things to do than to prosecute them? You might say, people shouldn’t lie under oath. I agree. But the government shouldn’t be asking these questions in the first place. In my book, there are plenty of other problems we should be attending to instead.

Let me say upfront that I am an Obama supporter. Still doubts have been raised in the usual quarters–by Clinton, McClain, the Boston Globe, and my neighbor–as to whether he’ll be able to deliver on his promise of hope. If Obama wins, and it’s starting to seem as if he might (with the shakeup in the Clinton camp, always a bad sign, plus the possibility of playing the “age card” against the next AARP darling, McCain), we have to hope the doubters are wrong. In other words, we have to hope for hope. And I, for one, am hopeful about that.

I have been challenged by a reader to lay off the Rom; but can I do it? No, I’m afraid I cannot. I have one last thing to say; well maybe it’s the last. On that we’ll see. In his speech before the conservative club yesterday, Romney claimed he was pulling out of the race because we were at war and he was doing this for the good of the country. He would have stayed in if it was just about him. “But it’s never been about me.”

WRONG. It’s always been about the Mitt. It was obvious soon into his governorship of Mass., and maybe even before he became governor, that he had higher office in mind. He never cared a wit (whit?) about the state; in his head that was a mere steppingstone to the office he always felt was rightfully his. So I have to disagree with you, Mr. Romney. It’s always been about you. But as for this blog, we’re going to leave off this tiresome subject. Now it’s about me.

Sorry to engage in such endless Romney bashing but I can’t help myself. What can I say? The man keeps asking for it. Despite the fact that he’s getting writer’s cramp from writing so many checks to himself to support his vanity bid for the White House that nobody else wants, he goes on.

Mickey Edwards, the former congressman and current Princeton lecturer, summed it up nicely on the radio today. Mike Huckabee is not Romney’s problem. Romney is Romney’s problem. Ironically, Edwards said, Romney tried to recast himself as an extreme conservative (and now bills himself as the “only true conservative”) because he thought that’s what it would take to win. But it turns out the Republican voters aren’t that conservative and if he’d kept his more moderate positions, he would have had a better chance.

I, for one, am glad he shot himself in the foot. But I’m as suspicious of his previous moderate positions as I am of his current hardcore views. I’m convinced that Romney is like our president: A man who doesn’t really believe anything but will stand for anything if he thinks it’s in his interests. Or if the right people tell him to…

Last night my wife got together with some female friends, three of whom were undecided as to how they’d vote today. The choice where I live, in an overwhelmingly Democratic district, is between Hillary and Barack. (I do have one friend, however, who is thinking of voting for McCain, and I think it speaks well of my broadmindedness that we are still on good terms.) I just spoke with another friend on the phone a minute ago who is in the same (undecided) state of confusion. She doesn’t know what she’ll do in the voting booth and may resort to eenie-meenie-minie-moe (sp???). Even my five-year-old is undecided. She had been firmly in the Barack camp until this morning, just before she went to kindergarten, when she dropped the bombshell that she has now swung toward Hillary. So indecision seems to be the watchword on this day, Super Tuesday, and we’ll soon see how it all plays out…

Who is labor’s greatest champion? Perhaps you might pick someone like Cesar Chavez, the former head of the United Farm Works who died 15 years ago. But if you picked Chavez, you’d be wrong for labor’s true greatest champion is none other than Mitt Romney. Why can I be so confident? Because Romney said so. Campaigning in Michigan, he presented himself as the greatest friend labor’s ever had, based on his experience at Bain Capital, where he was a job-creating machine the likes of which we’ve never seen before or since. But an article in Sunday’s Boston Globe challenged that assertion. While some of the compaies that Romney promoted in his role at Bain did grow and create jobs, other companies he advised shut down factories and laid of workers. Employment and the livelihood of workers was the last thing on Romney’s mind. He only cared about one thing–making money for Bain’s investors–and in that area he excelled. And that’s the one thing about the Zelig-like Romney (did you see him in the picture with Martin Luther King?) that you can bank on.

Who ever figured I’d be writing three posts about “3:10 to Yuma”? I never did. First I saw the original movie last year and made note of it (first post). Then I heard a new movie was in the offing (second post), which I finally saw last night (third post). Not as good as the original–a very shaky start–but it picks up in the second half and builds to a satisfying conclusion. The main reason I bring this up is to get back to our discussion of actors and cowboys. Some younger actors, I’ve argued, lack the gravitas to pull of a convincing cowboy turn. They just look like kids in a costume playing with toy guns. But Russell Crowe, who has been good in many other roles (the Irish-American boxing movie, for instance), is more than up to the challenge. Christian Bale put in a solid performance, as well, but it was Crowe’s acting that held this picture together and made it worth checking out if you go in for the cowboy genre, which I do though I know it’s not everyone’s thing.

I’ve been wanting to see the movie “Once” for about six months now and finally got around to it last night. The expectations have been high for all this time and few movies can live up to a buildup like that. But this one did. The title is apt because it is an original movie like nothing you’ve ever seen before. I was particularly struck by a scene–and, in fact, a couple of scenes–in which the two leads, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, walk the streets of Dublin, with Irglova towing a vacuum cleaner during their jaunt. As I said, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It should be obvious that I’m no fan of our former governor, Mitt Romney, who has a little problem with the truth. (They don’t see eye to eye, it seems.) I had hoped to see him trounced in Michigan and bounced right out of the race. It looks like we’ll have Mitt to kick around for awhile anyway. And the man does have money to spend.

Last night a friend told me she felt sorry for Romney. He’d made a lot of mistakes in his campaign, she said, because he wasn’t really a politician. I, on the other hand, felt no compassion whatsoever, saying, “He should have thought of that before he decided to run for president.”

During last-minute campaigning yesterday in Michigan, Mitt Romney was asked what kind of cars he owned. Romney stumbled for a bit, saying something like “let me try to remember…” And then he did remember: HE HAS A FORD MUSTANG, which he miraculously remembered while visiting the state of Michigan. We need a president with a good memory, and Romney has demonstrated that in this department he is more than qualified.

I just saw a note-perfect romantic comedy–a romantic comedy for people who, ever since Sleepless in Seattle, have decided they hate romantic comedies. It’s called BROKEN ENGLISH, and I’m not sure the movie has found its audience. Perhaps the problem lies in the marketing: “A must see for ‘Sex and the City’ Fan,” says the large (i.e., “money”) quote on the back cover, which makes it sounds like a date with a cheap floozy rather than the classy product it is.

Much has been made in the media of Hillary’s staged “genuine” moment when she got all choked up over how hard it is to stay motivated and keep her spirits up during a hard campaign. The pundits claim this was a key factor in her turnaround in New Hampshire. But can people be so stupid as to fall for these fake displays of emotion? (Probably.) How many times have her advisors told her to try to look real?

It’s not just Hillary, of course. Romney has gotten misty on the campaign trail, probably when thinking about how he did not march with Martin Luther King, Jr. Even our hard-hearted president, who thinks nothing of bombing people, gets emotional at times, perhaps in anticipation of a long-awaited day to clear brush.

While we’re on the subject, one other thing that’s bothering me: Hillary ended her victory speech saying “God bless.” To me, that shows great arrogance: She now expects to be the Democratic nominee and is practicing her God blesses so that it will sound natural by the time she’s running against a god-fearing Republican.

I haven’t paid as much attention to this primary as I have in previous years, partly because I’ve been so busy lately and partly because I figured that by the time we voted in Massachusetts, the whole thing could be wrapped up. Yet I did see the Democratic debate last weekend–the first debate I’ve watched this year. I’ve been wanting to like Edwards, as he impressed me a lot four years ago when he debated Cheney, but his performance on Saturday did not wow me. All that talk about evil corporations, while truer today than ever, struck me as old fashioned and unlikely to catch fire. Similarly I found Hillary’s ploy to embrace “change” to be transparent and unconvincing. Richardson, despite his great credentials, seemed like a sideshow. That left Obama who looked like the best bet to me, though I hadn’t been certain before. Coming into Tuesday’s primary, I got caught up a bit in the enthusiasm over Obama, which hadn’t happened to me before, so the results came as a disappointment. (What a bummah!) Especially after seeing how flat Clinton was during her victory speech compared to Obama’s stirring address. “She used to be an absolutely horrible speaker, but she’s a lot better now,” I told my wife. “Now she’s just poor.”

We all agree the presidential campaign goes on for too long, but it does provide time for us to get to know the candidates and one thing we’ve learned about Mitt Romney, the pious one, is that he is a pathological liar. He has said repeatedly on the campaign trail that he had seen his father, George Romney, march with Martin Luther King, Jr. Only it turns out he didn’t “see” that in the literal sense, only in the figurative sense. As quoted in the Boston Globe, Romney said “I saw him in the sense of being aware of his participation in that great effort.” Oh good, glad we cleared up that little misunderstanding, except for the little problem that his father never marched with Dr. King.

And how does he explain that other statement he made in the Boston Herald, some years back, about how “my father and I marched with Martin Luther King, Jr. through the streets of Detroit”? Does he mean “marched” in the figurative sense too, as in “being aware of my participation in that great effort”?

I’m sick and tired of the “media” treating Mitt Romney’s Mormon speech as a serious discussion of faith, putting it in the same league as JFK’s Catholic speech of 40-some years ago. Everyone in Massachusetts knows Romney to be a lying, self-serving snake–and I mean that (“snake”) in the bad sense, rather than in the good (“Snake”) sense–without a genuine bone in his body. When will the rest of the country get wise? Of course the same might have been said four and eight years ago about a certain former governor of Texas.

True to form, President Bush has shown himself, once again, to be an uncompromising man of principles–the main principle being he is not one to let facts stand in the way of what he wants to do. And what he wants to do, it appears, lies at the heart of the neocon agenda–saber-rattling with Iran and maybe worse owing to their alleged nuclear weapons capability. The fact that we now know they don’t have such a capability does not change anything in his mind. And why should it?

My last post about the showdown between Yellow and Orange gave the misleading impression that the Harvard-Yale game took place here in Cambridge (or technically in Boston if you want to be that way), when in fact the game was played in New Haven. How did this happen? You could blame it on the editors. But the fact is, the game was supposed to be held in Cambridge and at the time I reported it as such, I was correct. However, in an attempt to embarrass me, my enemies at Harvard and Yale changed the venue at the last minute. I still stand by the correctness of my previous post, which was 110% accurate when posted, but now–in light of the recent sleight-of-hand by the Ivy League tricksters–I felt a correction and clarification was necessary. Hence the above account.

Is this mistake–if you are wont to call it that–a blemish on Call Me Snake’s otherwise perfect record? I think not. If anything, the fact that Harvard and Yale changed their game plans strictly to humiliate this blog shows the growing importance of Call Me Snake.

I just saw the movie “Away From Her” on DVD and, as the title suggests, I was blown away. It is definitely not a “feel-good” movie as the subject is Alzheimer’s. But I can’t recall having seen a more moving and poignant picture in years. It is especially impressive that such a trenchant movie about aging was written and directed by a relative youngster, Sarah Polley. I’m going to give this one five stars out of four on the Snake-ometer.

(Editor’s note: I’d like to apologize, in advance, to Kucinich partisans, as I have nothing against the man who is one of the most progressive candidates out there and who, admirably, had been a staunch and consistent critic of the Iraq war. That said, please allow me to proceed with my own special brand of attack journalism…) In what may be a desperate ploy to boost his standings in the presidential race, Dennis Kucinich is now claiming that he’s seen a UFO. Not only that he saw a UFO but that he saw one in the presence of Shirley Maclaine. In this way, he’s courting not only the UFO vote but the Hollywood nutjob vote as well.

Had I not been watching the World Series last night, I still would have known the Red Sox won. For a few minutes after midnight, when Papelbon struck out the final batter, I heard the sounds of helicopters circling overhead. As in 2004, the Red Sox had dramatic comebacks in the ALCS only to roll through the World Series with little resistance. It was a great team effort–everyone did so well, in fact, that it was hard to pick a World Series MVP. I don’t want to take anything away from Mike Lowell’s effort, which was outstanding throughout the regular season & throughout the Series as well. But if I were to single out one player in the World Series, that would be Jon Papelbon, who had three saves and did not give up a run. I don’t think another closer ever had a Series like he had, nor a year like he had. This I believe, while celebrating here in Red Sox Nation.

[Editor's note: My shopping post clearly struck a nerve. Which is why I've elected to go with this Celebrity Guest Comment by "Fletch" despite the fact that I have many other pressing items to post. Sincerely, CSM Editor-in-Chief]

“Fletch” speaks (and speaks well): By my calculations, you forked over cash of $13 for $24 of stuff. That may have put you only $2 short of zeroing out, but I’m not sure. (My formula is secret for now.) Of course, the real hitch to coupon shopping, which may be trumped by zeroing out (another matter for readership determination), lies in answer to the question: Do you really need the stuff you just bought? For example, the SNAKE household may, for the moment, have an abundance of dental products and 9 volt batteries. Come to think of it, however, I need a couple of those 9 volts at our house, meaning a trip to CVS, meaning the possibility of zeroing out.

[Editor's Note: Thank you "Fletch" for your sage remarks. At least somebody "gets it."]

If you ask me our country goes nuts over steroids–with Congressional hearings, federal “probes,” and the like. Now Marion Jones is facing possible imprisonment for lying over steroid use. I think we should save prison for real criminals. Jones has already been stripped of her medals and disgraced and on top of that she’s already broke. If you ask me, she’s already been penalized enough.

I have not seen the latest Jesse James movie, which has not stopped me from writing about it repeatedly. (This way, not having seen it, I can write about it objectively.) I commented last time about the title of the film in question–a point that several movie reviewers have picked up on. This nice quote, for example, appeared in Wesley Morris’ review in yesterday’s Boston Globe: “As you might expect from something called ‘The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford,’ brevity is not a virtue here.” Another reviewer pointed out that the title gives away the ending, which is something that I mentioned as well. As for the question, if I’m going to keep writing about this picture should I actually see it? I don’t know. For now I think I’d rather keep my palette fresh, uncluttered by images of the movie itself. (Also I heard it might be boring.)

Fred Thompson, like every ambitious Republican, wants to be Ronald Reagan. Which might explain why Thompson is still talking about the Soviet Union. Or maybe he’s just reading some old TV scripts.

In his review of Sean Penn’s latest effort, “Into the Wild,” Peter Keough of the Boston Phoenix wrote last week: “As Penn sees it, Chris [McCandless] is a pure soul like the Buddha or St. Francis… As I see it, Penn and Chris are both self-indulgent bores.” (And as I see it–not having bothered with the movie itself, Keough may well be right.)

Bush surrogate, Frances Fragos Townsend, claims that Osama bin-Laden is “virtually impotent”–hiding out in caves where all he can do is make the occasional video. But why is the Bush administration taunting bin-Laden? If Osama wants to make videos, I say fine, more power to him. In fact, he can make all the videos he wants, so far as I’m concerned. I even know some underemployed TV and video producers who could use the work.

What does President Bush want? Does he want bin-Laden to keep hiding and pop up on TV from time to time? Or would he rather that Osama stage another 9/11-style attack on the U.S.? I know what I’d prefer. But then again, who asked me? I’m not “the decider.”

 

 

The 1970 bestseller, THE GREENING OF AMERICA, spoke of a new kind of consciousness emerging from the 1960’s counterculture. In the decades since, we’ve seen a cheapening of America with politicians and political candidates now routinely pandering on TV talk shows. Fred Thompson’s announcement that he was running for president on the TONIGHT SHOW, a forum for the lamest of conversations, is a continuation of this trend. Since Thompson appeared regularly on the TV show, “Law and Order,” many Americans are likely to consider him the “Law and Order” candidate, given the level of analysis that goes on these days.

Yesterday President Bush said that Iraq was now “safer,” which makes me think I’d hate to be in a place he considers “dangerous.”

In a recent review of “Right At Your Door,” a Boston Globe critic said the movie “takes a potential and horrific real-world scenario and bit by bit trivializes it into a ‘Twilight Zone’ episode.’” Since when is a comparison to the “Twilight Zone” a putdown? In my opinion, Rod Serling classic has rarely been equalled, let alone surpassed, in contemporary filmdom. I’d be happy to have my work condemned by comparing it to the Twilight Zone.

I’m back from the Midwest, a trip capped off by a 1100-mile drive from Chicago to Boston by way of Vermont and New Hampshire. Along the way, I listened to several books on tape–including recent offerings of the detective genre–and based on what I heard, I can say that Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler need not worry about being supplanted. Robert Parker’s latest creation, Sonny Randall, is many steps down from his Spencer oeuvre, which in turn was many steps down from Philip Marlowe. Stuart Kaminsky’s Lew Fonesca series, which was recommended to me by a discerning friend, was good for a car drive. But there is a clear formula at play here–as well as a steady cast of characters–that you don’t get in Hammet and Chandler books. So, as I’ve said before, the masters have not yet been surpassed. In my book the closest competition to those classics of a half century ago comes from: Elmore Leonard, Walter Moseley, and Henning Mankell.

On another note, CALL ME SNAKE is hard at work on a book about the mathematics that underlies string theory. As a result, CALL ME SNAKE is fairly busy these days and may not be posting as often or as regularly as he or she would like to. But maybe he’ll be posting as often or as regularly as others would care to see. But that, of course, remains to be seen.

Last night on the local news, a dippy weatherman I’d never seen before talked about how oppressive it was outside (low-to-mid 70s though humid). “You’d better just crank up your air conditioning and try to get through it,” she said. Actually, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. We don’t have air conditioning, and I didn’t even need to turn a fan on. But she said people better turn up their air conditioners without delay. There’s a thing called global warming, and we need to get smarter about our energy use. I’m not saying we should do away with air conditioning, but people ought to use some discretion, which is the opposite of what this weatherman, or “weatherperson,” was advocating.

Yesterday there was something different about the Boston Globe. At first I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then it hit me. For the first time in more than a week, I didn’t have to avoid the first page to avoid seeing a nauseating picture of Mitt Romney. For the Globe, in its infinite wisdom, saw fit to run an interminable, 7-part series on “The Making of a Failed Presidential Candidate.” Only the Globe, in its infinite wisdom, didn’t call it that. They called it, I believe, “The Making of Mitt Romney.” I must confess that I am not exactly clear as to what they called it; I did not spend a second reading that article. Nor can I see how the Globe deemed him a subject worth two full pages and a column each day for an entire week. I guess the Globe is banking on him becoming the next president. Of course, if the Globe wins on that one, we all lose.

We all thought that competitive eating, like other athletic endeavors, was good for you. But now a new book, called “Horsemen of the Esophagus,” has come along and burst our bubble. Competitive eating has its downside, according to the author, with jaw arthritis looming as one of the major problems. Ruptured stomachs are another risk but let’s not dwell on the negatives in this otherwise fantastic sport. Can I interest anyone in 100 hot dogs? Or 50 hard-boiled eggs perchance?

If you’ve seen one sports movie, you’ve seen ‘em all. While that’s not entirely true, the genre is formulaic in the extreme. If you change the sport and the city, a football movie like INVINCIBLE is almost identical to GOAL! THE DREAM BEGINS. That said, I still liked GOAL! THE DREAM BEGINS even though every aspect of it was entirely predictable. Call me a sucker for stupid sports movies, especially the stupid ones that are also kind of smart.

It’s kind of pathetic but it took me until June 2007 to come up with my list of the 10 best movies of 2006. That’s because I didn’t get to see as many movies last year as I would have liked to and it took me an extra six months to catch up, possibly because of all the time spent playing sudoku. At this point, some would say: Why bother? But I’ve been putting together my list for a long time and could not stop if I tried. There’s too much precedent, too much history pushing me forward. So without further ado, here’s my long-awaited 10 best list for 2006:

Winter Solstice
Friends with Money
Little Miss Sunshine
The Matador
Lonesome Jim
Look Both Ways
World’s Fastest Indian
Danny Deckchair
The Queen
Half Nelson

I’m having trouble counting but am pretty sure that’s 10. Next time I’ll number them to be sure. And until next time, the balcony is closed. 

I recently took the DVD, “The Sunshine Boys,” out from my library. I only watched a few minutes. The movie didn’t grab me & I was also busy. On the back of the DVD, there was a quote: “The best movie ever made from a Neil Simon play.” To me that says it all because from what I’ve seen, none of them are any good. Sorry Neil, no offense intended. Just tryin’ to call ‘em as I see ‘em.

Is it unfair that Wolfy (Wolfie?) was forced to resign over an impropriety that probably would not have done him in were he not one of the main architects of America’s misguided war in Iraq? Put in other terms, should a man be held accountable for initiating a senseless war that has already killed untold numbers of people–probably hundreds of thousands, though we’ll never know for sure. Wolfowitz is one of the most reviled men in the world–along with Bush, Cheney, and Rumself–and he has paid a price for being a member of that select group known as the four horsemen of the apocalypse.