More Random Reidys...NOW, WITH MORE EYEBROW!
It's a fact!  Reidys rule when it comes to eyebrows!  And I'll prove it!!!
​
Okay, is this an anthropological, genealogical, sociological look at my family line; or some kind of weird, masturbatory navel gazing; or just blog filler; or just an excuse to oggle cute men?
Let's go with the latter.  And since women tend to pluck their brows, they won't be part of this entry.  This one is for BOYS ONLY! (Is that sexist?  Can this nonsense possibly be that?  I don't know...)
Here's our first Reidy branded, eyebrow babe:

It's Mr. Mark Reidy.  Okay, so finding him was totally random.  I just typed in the name "Mark Reidy" and he came up.  He looks enough like me at that age that we could've been brothers.  He lives in Los Angeles. I lived in Los Angeles. He's a cyclist.  I live in the bike capital of the Southwest.  He went to school in North Carolina.  I lived half of the first half of my life in North Carolina.

Here he is in right profile (definitely his "good side" although I'm sure the left ain't bad either!).  And he appears to be standing below a picture of himself; so we have that in common.  I don't know what he does other than cycle and be adorable...but here we have the Universe in action!  Somebody give that boy an audition!  Or a show about biking!

​We may have the winner here of the most Reidyist of Reidy Eybrows: Mr. William Reidy.  This cutie is ready to sing his lil'-ol' Irish heart out for you!

And he's not afraid to wear that heart on his sleeve!

Here's Mr. Ken Reidy, works for Senator Tammy Baldwin.  Brows for days!

Here's two Tom Reidys.  One's down under and one's in Brooklyn.  Here's Aussie Tom:

And here's Brooklyn Tom:

Brothers In Brows!
Brooklyn Tom is a wood-worker.  I too am a wood-worker, in training.  You know you want this Tom to work your wood; so if you're in the Tri-State area and need quality cabinetry, he's your Reidy!  And I want this bench:

There was a young man from Limerick...David Reidy.  I don't know what sport he plays but he's a winner in the brow game!

Here's Gearoid Reidy.  Don't ask me how to pronounce it.  He's a reporter for Bloomberg re: Japanese finance?  Never mind the brows...let's get lost in those green peepers!

Oh, I could do this all day!  But just one more...

He's Rockville Center NY police officer, Stephen Reidy.  Arresting!
I won't browbeat you anymore...nyuck, nyuck, nyuck...

These Reidys were entirely random and any similarities between me and them and one another are entirely coincidental.

CFR  9/1/22​

CUE MUSIC: HERB ALPERT'S "A TASTE OF HONEY"
AUDIENCE CHANTING IN UNISON: "Is...This...A...Coincindence?!?!"
WILD APPLAUSE:
ANNOUNCER: And now, here's the host of our show, Mister Chris!!!
MISTER CHRIS takes the stage.
Mr. Chris: Thank you ladies and gentlemen!  Please, sit down.  Thank you.  Before we start, I need to collect myself, and my thoughts because this could get a little effing dark...so, let's enjoy a number by Ms. Ann Reinking, our Spokesmodel and her friends...!
WILD APPLAUSE
​Ann and Company take the stage:

Mr. Chris: Thank you ladies.  Wasn't that terrific audience?  Legs for days; am I right people!?!
WILD APPLAUSE
Mr. Chris: And now let's welcome our first celebrity guest judge...and boy can she judge!  Ms. Teena Fay!
TEENA FAY* comes out on stage to WILD APPLAUSE and sits at a panel desk.
Mr. Chris: Welcome Teena, it's so nice to have you here!
Teena: Isn't it? (Laughs)

Mr. Chris: So, Teena, we know you've been appearing on the delightful new Hulu series The Murderers Have Left the Building; but what else have you been up to?
Teena: Well, I was going to do a gig for Mateus Rose; but they balled me so low with their offer, I ankled.  I decided to start up my own rose joint: Teena Fay Rose; but friggin' Kylie Minogue beat me to the punch.  But I do have a line of Ouzo dropping in December: Teena's Fayouzo.
Mr. Chris: No, you "fayouzo!"
Teena: Excuse me?
Mr. Chris: That's fabulous, isn't it audience?
WILD APPLAUSE
Mr. Chris: Our second judge needs no introduction; everyone put your hands together for the hologram of Walt Disney!!!
WALT DISNEY'S HOLOGRAM steps out from behind a curtain and sits in the seat next to Teena.
UNCLE WALT: Hello TV Land.  Hello Mr. Chris!

Mr. Chris: You're looking well Uncle Walt! And what have you been up to?
Uncle Walt: Just figuring out my headspace...
Mr. Chris: Fantastic!  And now, our third judge.  You know her as that dearest of Mommies, de-facto President of Pepsi-Co. and Old School Queen of the Silver Screen: Ms. Joan Crawford!
WILD APPLAUSE (WA)
Joan takes the stage in grand style, wearing a large hat and sits next to Walt at the panel desk.

JOAN CRAWFORD: I never knew there was so much love!
Mr. Chris: Thanks for being here Joan. And I see you brought a bottle of Pepsi Cola with you...
Joan: Yes, of course, and I've had a vending machine installed in the lobby: FREE PEPSI for everyone! (She makes a grand sweeping gesture as the AUDIENCE stampedes en masse to the lobby...)

Mr. Chris: Well, we kind of need the audience to play this game, as it's up to them to--
Teena: How do you play this game anyways?  I mean, are there prizes?  Where are the contestants?
Mr. Chris: Well, you see the audience, they have to determine if what I show you behind doors number one, two and three are coincidences or not...
Teena: And then?
Mr. Chris: And then, we ask you judges what you think...
Teena:  And  then?
Mr. Chris: Then we figure out if I've been ripped-off or not...
Teena: So, this is all about you?
Mr. Chris: Well--
Teena: So, ​you're the contestant.  And the host.  Isn't that a conflict of interest?
Mr. Chris: (Nervous) All the proceeds go to charity!  You can pick the charity Teena!
Teena: Fine.  How about UCOP?
Joan: What is that Ms. Fay?
Teena: "The Underprivileged Celebrity Offspring Project."
Joan: Never heard of it...
Uncle Walt: Me neither...
Teena: It's for the children of celebrities who feel they're trapped in the shadow of their famous parent.  It can take a real emotional toll.  The emotional health of celebrity children is in grave--
Joan: Ha!  I've never heard such a load of bullshit in my life.
Mr. Chris: Fine, let's just go with that.  Now, if the lovely Ann Reinking will open door number one, we can see what's behind it...

ANNOUNCER: Ann, show us what's behind door number one!
Ann dances over to a large door with a big 1 on it and pulls it open.  On a display stand is a porkpie hat:

Teena: A hat?  And by the way, isn't Ann Reinking deceased?
Mr. Chris: No, she's right there...Uncle Walt and Joan are holograms...
Uncle Walt: Actually Chris, I'm an astral projection, coming to you from a cryo-chamber below "The Pirates of the Caribbean" ride in Florida!
Joan: I'm actually a Hollygram, get it?
Teena: We get it, Joan.  So is Ann a hologram?
Mr. Chris: No.  She's alive.
Teena: Well, that's impossible.
Mr. Chris: You really don't play well with others, do you?  Look, this is my show.  And if I say Ann is alive, then she is.
Teena: (Under her breath) This guy's delusional...
Joan: Oh, let him cling to his dreams, Ms. Fay.  It's all he has.
Uncle Walt: He just needs to wish upon a star.  Then his dreams will come true!
Joan: Then he can wish upon me.  Go ahead Chris, wish upon me!
Teena: Can we get on with this?  What does the hat have to do with anything?
Mr. Chris: (Uncertain) Well, as you know, Mr. Steve Martin stars on The Murderers Have Left the Building.  He wears a porkpie on the show...

Teena: So?
Mr. Chris: Ann, show us what's behind door number 2!
Ann dances over to door number 2, opens it, and reveals an A/V stand with a lap-top on it.  She dances as she wheels out the stand.  She does a Fosse pose and holds it.
Mr. Chris: Okay Ann, you can hit play!
Ann does a Fosse hand flick over the keyboard and a Youtube video comes to life...

Teena: What are we looking at?
Mr. Chris: A video of the second act of a play I staged in 2014, entitled The Son'll Come Out Tomorrow.
Teena: Again..."So?"
Mr. Chris: As you can see, at the 56 second mark I come on stage wearing a porkpie hat...
Joan: It looks quite fetching on you Chris!
Mr. Chris: (Blushing) Oh, go on!
Teena: It looks fetching on anyone.  Are you saying that Steve Martin got the idea of wearing a porkpie from you?
Mr. Chris: You said it, I didn't.
Uncle Walt: I used to wear a porkpie, Chris...they're not exactly rare.  They go in and out of fashion; but they're always in style!

Joan: You were quite the dapper dude Walt; but that's a trilby hat.
Walt: I had a whole closet full of hats!
Joan: You should have come out of it, Walt.
Walt: I could spend days in my closet!
​Joan: And you did!
​Mr. Chris: Let's look at the 34.50 mark of the video...
Teena sighs.  Ann presses play.
Mr. Chris: As you can see, at this point in the play, there's a joke about a boy being tracked down by the thread of his unravelling sweater--
Uncle Walt: That gag is as old Methuselah's grand-pappy!
Mr. Chris: Well, the season two finale of "Murderers" featured a whole bit about unravelling and sweaters...
Joan: You're reaching Christopher...
Teena: Try "grasping"; like at straws...
Mr. Chris: Okay Ann, show them what's behind door number 3!
Ann sachets over to door number three, opens it and reveals a large photograph on an easel:

Joan: I'm confused...what am I looking at?
Teena: It's the finale episode of Season 2 of Murderers.  That's Martin Short, Steve Martin and Selena Gomez.
Joan: Never heard of them​.  What are they doing?
Mr. Chris: They're acting like they're in slow motion...complete with dialogue...
Teena: I know, I was in the scene.  And again: "So?"
Mr. Chris: Let's look at the video, starting at the 16 minute, 35 second mark...
Teena: Let's not and say we did.
Ann hits play on the laptop, and a scene ensues of three actors, enacting a fight in slow motion, complete with dialogue.  Mr. Chris throws his shoulders back in triumph.
Teena: And this proves...?
Mr. Chris: I think it's pretty self-evident.
Uncle Walt:  Surely that gag's been done somewhere, by someone.
Mr. Chris: Probably...I'm having some vague memory of a Looney Tune; but still--
Teena: Are you actually putting forth the argument that some of the biggest people in comedy at some of the biggest companies in Hollywood watched your tatty little video of your piddly little play that you staged in some janky, Podunk, back-ass-water burg and stole ideas from it?
Mr. Chris (defiantly) Yes.  Yes Teena, I am saying that.
Teena: Well, good-luck to you pal.
Uncle Walt: The fine executives and entertainers in the fine city of Hollywood would never stoop to such tactics.  I must say I agree with Ms. Fay.
Mr. Chris: Knew I could count on you Uncle Walt...
Joan: I don't know.  Third door's the charm.  And you're one to talk Walt, as you blithely pranced through fairy-land and plundered the work of The Brother's Grimm, Hans Christian Andersen and Charles Perrault.  You didn't have to pay a single penny; they were all dead!
Uncle Walt: (Sneezes) It's cold in here!
Mr. Chris: The studio?
​Uncle Walt: No, my ice box--

Teena:  And even if they did "steal" your ideas, who gives a flibberti-fuckin-jibit?  It's Show Business.  They can do whatever they want.  They have more money than you.  They can lawyer up until Armageddon.  We're all tired of you whining about this.  We don't care!  NOBODY CARES!
Mr. Chris (Sadly) I care...
Joan:  So do I Chris.  I care.
Mr. Chris: You do?
Joan: Yes.
Ann: I care Chris!
Teena: Barf!  Where's the fire-exit?  (She stands to leave and looks off-stage and points) Oh, look, your audience is back!

Teena exits, Stage Left. Mr. Chris sinks to the stage and stares out, forlornly.
Joan: Oh don't listen to her Chris.  She's never had her picture on a bubble-gum card.  Tell you what...let's all go out to eat at your favorite place, my treat!
Chris: (Mumbles) The Copper Penny...
Joan: That sounds familiar...
Chris: It's a coffee-shop in Burbank.
Joan: Oh, yes!  I recall slumming there a couple of times when I was at Warners!

Uncle Walt: Many a late night cup of java there!
Joan: Why there Chris?
Mr. Chris: It was cozy.  It was comforting.  I felt relaxed there...
Ann: I think they tore it down in the 90's.  It's an office building now...
Joan: Now Ann, this is Chris's show.  If the Copper Penny is where he wants to go, then that's where we're going!

Joan: Well, I'm going to have the country fried steak!  How about you Ann?
Ann: The Avocado Burger looks terrific and since I'm not watching my weight anymore...
Joan: When in Rome.  How about you Chris?
Mr. Chris: The Hot Turkey Sandwich with onion rings and potato salad.
Joan: Decadent!  How about you Walt?
Uncle Walt: Well, I can't eat, so it's coffee and cigarettes for me!
Joan: You know Ann, I was a dancer myself...
Ann: Really?
Joan: That's how I got my start!  And Chris, would you turn that glum little frown upside down?  Nobody likes a sad-sack.
Mr. Chris: I'm trying...
Joan:  You know, I've seen some shit go down in Tinseltown; let me tell you!  One time I was in a pitch meeting with Irving G. Thalberg and a young writer, who was unravelling an amazing photoplay outline and he got so excited, he dropped dead of a heart attack.  Well, Mr. Thalberg pried that script out of that poor boy's hands so fast, they were still warm and he put his own name on it.  He swore me to secrecy; but then I swore him to star me in it and he really had no choice, as I had a lot of juicy dirt on his bitch wife Myrna Loy and what she'd been getting up to down at Ciro's...
Mr. Chris: Wasn't Thalberg married to Norma Shearer?
Joan: That twat!  You're right, Chris.  But Myrna was no picnic. She'd smile in your face when she stabbed you in the back.  They all would!  So, anyways, I said to him: "Mr. Thalberg, it would behoove you to..."
Uncle Walt starts whistling "Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho" as the scene is drown out in the restaurant background noise...

* "Teena Fay" appears courtesy of Fauxlebrity Love Match, Inc.

CFR AUGUST 27, 2022

The other day my friend Joe and I were talking and out of nowhere he asks: "Do you like Chicago?"  And I say: "The City or the band?"  "The band..." he replies.  "Yeah, sure.  I like Chicago." The band.  I've never been to the actual city and I'll make a confession here.  I'm afraid to go.  "Why are you afraid to go to Chicago, Chris?" you might ask.  "You love big, bustling metropolises..."  Well, many years ago, an acquaintance of mine who was mega into Astrology asked me for my birth details and then presented me with a chart.  The only thing I remember from it was that, according to it, the city of Chicago had bad energy for me.  Like really bad.  I looked at my friend and asked "How bad?"  He frowned, raised his brow, tilted his head and cast his eyes downwards.  I'm hoping this dispels that bad ju-ju by saying this out loud, as it were; because it does seem like Chi-town would be my kind of town...

Frankie's a Sagittarius!  Hoo-doo dispelled.
So, back to Joe. "Why do you ask?" I ask.  "Have you ever heard of Leonid and Friends?"
And he gives me the skinny on Leonid and his friends.  "Leonid and Friends" are, I suppose, essentially a cover band; in particularly covering Chicago (the band) tunes.  They also do a little Earth, Wind and Fire and other stuff.  But mostly Chicago.  Now, who doesn't like that handful of Chicago classics from the 70's?  For example, "Saturday, In the Park."  I like them enough; but maybe not enough to go seek out Leonid and his friends. 
Apparently, they are more of a collective of musicians who like Chicago a whole lot.  The "friends" are composed of Russian and Ukrainian musicians, who, also apparently, learned English so they could sing the songs in the original language.  Now, as to whether or not they learned English in it's entirety or just the English found in the songs, I cannot answer.
So, Joe sent me a link and I clicked on it.  I was expecting something campy, perhaps mildly amusing, disposable...but when I watched it, I was mesmerized.  The clip Joe sent me was their cover of "Only the Beginning":

As I watched it, I felt myself so emotionally moved I was on the verge of tears.  And then I watched again and the tears were streaming down my face.
Why?  Why though?  Why was it having this effect.  The original never did.  Why should a bunch of Europeans doing a note perfect copy of an old pop song be so transformative?  It's joy.  It's just sheer joy.  You can see it in their faces and hear it in their voices.  And they're honoring something they're thankful for by making it as perfect as they can.  It's like joy reverb.  And it's made me see people from that region (a region that is now being torn apart) in a different way.  They're not dour and cowed.  They love life and music and creativity as much as anyone. As much as I do.  I feel a connection to these people because in many ways this country is being torn apart too.
I don't know...maybe you'll find it corny; but I'm thinking you won't.  
Anyways, I just felt like I needed to share this discovery.  Here's another one:

CFR 8/20/22

The other day I read a very amusing "Open Letter to Jake Gyllenhaal" by a Ms. Misty Rae on Medium.  She was imploring Mr. Gyllenhaal to not go through with the pending remake of 1989's Road House; and I must say, I agree with her.  Now, don't get me wrong, I would be the first in line to purchase a ticket to see Mr. G. in various stages of undress; which the role would require; including an extended "butt-shot" for no other reason than to showcase a glorious man-ass.  And if Sam Elliott reprised his role, I might have to put a cold compress on my forehead.

Nothing homoerotic here...

And we know Jake is going to have to go through a grueling, sweat-drenched, pounding, steamy, grunting, groaning, iron pumping, pumping, pumping workout regimen which just might end up- as a mini-documentary on the Making of Road House 2022 bonus disc on the forthcoming Blu-Ray, in order to bring his physique to tip-top, Zeusian levels in order to properly play the character of "Dalton."  We know this.  Jake commits.

But the thing is.  Nobody wants a remake of Road House.  It's a lousy movie. Terrible script. Dumb acting. Lousy plot. It's stupid.  It's brain-dead.  Delightfully so; but it's brain-dead.  The only reason Road House works is because of Patrick Swayze.  It is Patrick's signature film.  The movie is Patrick; Patrick is the movie.  That's why it's become a cult film: because Patrick Swayze.  Whatever it was that made Patrick Swayze, Patrick Swayze was lightning caught in a bottle by that movie.  It is pointless to remake it.
And don't even get me started on the complete lack of originality in mainstream movies.  I know it.  They know it. We know it and you know it.
But, if you insist...may I throw in my two cents?
You've hired Conor McGregor for a role.  That has some very interesting possibilities.  So, might I suggest you throw out the Road House script and revisit Brokeback territory?

Nothing homoerotic here, either.

The new, revamped product is called: Uncaged Hearts.  It is the story of a hungry (and thirsty) but on the skids Mixed Martial Arts/Cage Fighter/Thunderdoming dude named Henry Notlad.  That would be Jake's role.  He's trying to make a comeback; and so he travels to Scotland, where a legendary trainer named Seamus O'Toole (played by WWE's Sheamus) puts him through his paces on the Scottish highlands.  In nothing but a kilt, Jake could gift the world with his first full-frontal scene in a meet-cute scenario where Seamus flips the cocky fighter over his back and out of his kilt and onto the grass.  Now hear me out, Jake.  Male full-frontal is all the rage right now and I think we can all agree, the time is right!  And oh, yeah, along for the ride is Henry's girlfriend, Maggie.  She's played by Heidi Gardner in full on "Girlfriend of the Boxer in Every Boxing Movie Ever Made."  She's there to nag Jake and get suspicious, later in the movie, when Jake and Conor have a no-holds barred, torrid as F love match.

Nope, still nothing homoerotic.

Cesaro can be in the movie too, as one of the Highland gamers.  Seamus puts Jake through a grueling, grunting, sweating pumping Highland Games montage where Jake must win at contests like Caber tossing, Stone Putting, log-rolling etc.  There's even an adorable scene of Jake learning how to play the bagpipes and do a jig (again, giving rising opportunity to flapping kilts and flashes of Jake-jewels)!

Okay, maybe a wee bit homoerotic...

So, after Seamus whips Jake into fine, fighting, form; it's off to the Emerald Isle for the Dublin Grand International Cage Fighting Championships.  The current reigning Champ is McGregor "Greg" O'Connor, played by Conor McGregor, natch (bonus--won't have to change tummy tatt!). A couple of nights before The Big Encounter In The Cage, Jake is showing off his newly acquired bag-piping skills on the Irish bagpipes (a.k.a. Uilleann pipes; which are held in the lap, rather than under the arm; but Henry is a quick study!).  Jake, thinking he has blown the roof off of the pub; watches as a lad in dark glasses with a cap pulled over his eyes takes the stage and picks up the Irish drum known as the Bodhran.  This mystery musician pulls out the stops and soon it's a musical showdown between him and Jake.  This can all be part of a cover of The Chieftains "The Timpan Reel."

A mutual respect is met.  The two men shake hands.  Jake notices a tattoo of a human heart on his opponent's wrist when his sleeve rises up.  The mystery musician disappears into the night...

Later, after several drinks, Jake goes out to the phone booth to call Maggie who is still in Boston.  Yeah, Jake is from Boston, simply because I want to hear him do the accent.  It's one of those cool, retro, UK phone booths (in Ireland, they're green).  When he exits the booth, the Mystery Musician in leaning against the wall of an alley, smoking a cigarette. "You take to those pipes, boy..." he says.
"And you can really pound a drum." Jake replies.
​Mystery Man heads down the alley and turns a corner.  Jake follows.  He sees the Mystery Man slip through a door.  He follows again into a dimly lit store room.  What happens next is intense, explosive and shocking!*  And it's over much too soon.  Jake is left alone, his massive chest heaving, on a mattress on the floor; his life changed.  He has had an epiphany on every level.  Who was this phantom lover?  This lover of music and unbridled lust? He must meet him again!  He must!  But how?
CUT TO:
The next day at the weigh in for the first round of the competition, Jake and Conor strip down.  They have never met.  McGregor is weirdly quiet and dismissive of Henry. They stand side by side on scales. That's when Jakes sees it.  The human heart tattoo on Conor's wrist!
Let's just say that the first round of fighting is strange, super intense and kind of awkward. 
So you get the idea.  That's the set-up.  Acts two and three are about the conflicts arising from being in love and having to pummel and karate kick your lover.  And in a switch-up, it's actually Conor's character, the hyper-masculine one, that's the dude who's fallen hard.  He's the one who wants them to run off together to a cottage in the dunes of Tralee. 

And don't worry about Maggie.  When she flies to Ireland to nag Jake, she meets Seamus and there are instant sparks!

So do Conor and Jake end up happily ever after?
Yes.  Yes they do.  Nobody dies.  Nobody is gay bashed.  Nobody dies of HIV related complications.  Nobody commits suicide.  There's even a touching scene at dawn, when Jake is out on the beach about to leave and Conor throws himself at Jake's feet and sobbing, begs him not to go.  Through tears and a thick Irish brogue he pleads: "You're the only one who's ever made me happy, Henry!"  Emotional kiss.  Fade out.  The End.
Whadda ya think?
I think the ladies, at least, will flock to it.  And gay dudes too, of course.  But hey, it's arguably nearly as homoerotic as Road House, imho.

​P.S. Dear Conor McGregor: Please don't hit me.

CFR 8/20/22

*Would having them both in kilts during this scene be too much?

Addendum:  That adorable gentleman above is not me.  He is Ruairi Glasheen (what a name!).  And watching this charmer's video, I kinda really want to take up the Bodhran!

I think Colin Farrell needs to be in this movie too.  Maybe he could play Jake's brother, which is the impetus to get Jake to Scotland.  And Ewan McGregor.  Ewan will give you butt! (Refer to Velvet Goldmine):​

What is up with this podcasting obsession?  
I can honestly say, I have not listened to a single podcast.  Why are people suddenly listening, again, to what is essentially the radio?  Like, really old-school radio; when people got their entertainment from scripted stories like The Shadow and Lux Radio Theater and The Inner Sanctum.  Maybe because television has gotten so stupid?  Well, no, not exactly.  TV is currently experiencing a new Golden Age.  Maybe because we're stuck in our cars so much now because traffic seems to have gotten ten times worse then say, since I was a kid?  I remember in the 70's (when I was a kid) there was this radio show that came on the airwaves in 1974.  It was called CBS Radio Mystery Theater.  I remember how excited me and my siblings were about it.  I guess for us cathode ray children, the idea of a story without pictures was some kind of exciting novelty!  And it's scary stuff to boot!

I don't recall ever seeing ads for it or hearing commercials.  We found out about it through the sandbox grape-vine.  Kiddie word of mouth.  It ran until 1982!  But here's the problem.  In the 70's there was no such thing as Radio Guide.  There was this general: "Oh, it's on Sunday nights on so and so station!"  And then on Sunday night, you'd be desperately cranking the radio knob to try and find it.  Sometimes you would and sometimes you wouldn't.  Usually you wouldn't.  After a while, we gave up trying to find it.  Plus, it was an hour long...kind of tests a child's attention span when there aren't pictures to look at.  I have memories of listening to it two or three times.
My friend Joe tells a funny story about the show.  One night he was driving his brother's new car; a Japanese model that was one of the first car's to "talk."  He did not know this at the time.  So, he's listening to The Ravine by Ray Bradbury and it's about these three women who go to the movies and walking back home, they have to go through this ravine where a killer is lurking...or something like that.  So, Joe is alone on the road, it's pitch black, he's deeply gripped by the story's suspense and just when the killer is about to strike he hears "CAR NEEDS GAS!" in a Japanese accent.  He nearly drove off the road.
Speaking of mysteries and not stupid TV: Only Murders In the Building.  Now, as we know, a big part of that show is the podcasting element.  It's certainly given me a bit more insight into that world: who's listening?  Who's creating?

And that show also makes the undertaking look like a lot of fun.  But not necessarily a lot of work.  In the grand Hollywood tradition; characters decide to do things and then they magically happen.  I mean, the trio decide to do the podcast and as soon as they put it out there, it's an immediate hit with a dedicated cult following.  That's when your suspension of disbelief needs to kick in; otherwise, you can't have the show.  And I'm sure it is a lot of work.  But those characters seem to have a lot of free time on their hands.
On my way home from play practice tonight, an ad came on the radio.  The announcer was asking something along the lines of: "Do you speak like a robot at work because you're so disinterested in your job.  But when you talk to your friends you sound like Bugs Bunny on coke because you're so excited about, whatever your passion is?"  Something like that.  That really struck a cord with me.  I can recall a lot of disinterest on my part when I worked in offices.  The announcer went on to recommend "Spreaker.com" as a way of monetizing that passion. Through a podcast!  So I checked out the website, which is a step-by-step sort of come on kids, let's put on a show for podcasts!  My curiosity has been piqued.
The problemo is...what would I want my podcast to be about?
I know a lot of interesting people.  Maybe I could interview them.  But then, that would require setting up interviews, getting people wherever, and so on and so on.  You know, like work.  And other formats would require a lot of research and field work.  I'm kind of busy doing other stuff; including writing this blog.  And trying to avoid contagions.  And then I thought...hey, wait a minute.  I wrote a freaking 500 page book.  One that is not "on tape."  Or should I say, not available on Audible.  Maybe I could simply read my book as my podcast!  You know, like Dickens did--serialized it, I mean!

You know...it just might work!  And I'm sure it will be an instant success with an immediate cult following!
Hit like if you think this is a good idea.
Ciao!
Chris

​CFR 8/19/22

This is where it's at! In Spanish.
Also, the camera really does add ten pounds.  And detracts hairlines, apparently.  Oh well.  It's the Pandemic pound or two!  Yeah, I'm going with that.  I'll be back to my fighting weight as soon as I join the MCU!

CFR 8/16/22

Regrets?
I've had a few...
​But then again; too few to mention.

I couldn't not write a little something about Olivia Newton-John and her recent passing.  She was a distinctive part of my youth, if only by osmosis.  That's not to say I wasn't a fan.  I loved her.  Not enough to go out and buy her latest LP or see her latest movie (I somehow managed to not see Xanadu at the movies).  But enough to see Grease a dozen times and listen to all the cuts on Physical, which my sister went out and bought.

That's the LP sleeve of Physical, unfolded.  That's from back when a record was a record.  It wasn't a double album, but it had the double album, deluxe packaging: photographs, lyrics, etc.  It also had a bunch of great songs.  Back then, sometimes you'd buy an album and there'd be like two good songs and the rest was filler.  Not so Physical.  In fact, Olivia created a collection of videos for most of the songs on the album; which were then put together as a network TV special.  Olivia was putting together her own little MTV while MTV was just inventing itself.  
People often talk lovingly about Olivia and her Star Quality: she was so likable, they say.  And she was.  But I think that simplifies her.  Yes, she had a simple, wholesome, innocent quality.  And no, the whole "bad girl" attempt was kind of hollow.  There was nothing "bad" about Olivia Newton-John.  What I think it was though, is that Olivia embraced her smarts.  She knew she had a great voice...that wasn't the problem.  I don't know how she met John Farrar; but when she put herself in his hands, that's when the Magic really happened.
He took her crystalline voice and dropped it into pop songs that had an unusual tempo.  A bit of a dark side.  A kind of mystery.  Baselines that created a kind of suspense and turned them into little short stories.  And I think that's why they hold up so well.  Still sound so fresh when they play on the radio.  I give you A Little More Love as my choice for her best song; and one of my favorites.  It has all the qualities I mentioned.  And that's John Farrar on the keyboards, goofing around.  He doesn't have to be serious.  He knows how good it is.

So thank you Olivia (and John) for all the great memories and feelings, sung and unsung.  They were important.

CFR August 9, 2022

So, every time I write a new blog and put pictures in it, the pictures end up (quite often) where they're not supposed to be.  And there seems to be certain places where it keeps happening.  Now, I could leave them there, like Easter eggs and you could try and puzzle out which blog entries they really should be in.  Yes, but now, there are quite a many blogs on this site.  So, I'm just gonna go through everything, again, and delete the visual material that doesn't belong there.  Of course, this may clear up some confusion; but it will also make some of the blogs a little less amusing.  Oh well...