So Long, Butch Cassidy

Sad news today from Hollywoodland. Paul Newman passed away. He was born in Cleveland, like myself and was the first celebrity that I understood was from my hometown. Newman's Sporting Goods was still open when I was very little. He attended the same high school as my mother (albeit a generation or 2 ahead) and I always thought that was a big deal. My favorite movie of his is Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. In fact, I'd reckon it's one of the 20 best films of all time.

How cool was Butch? Way cool. I'm not well versed in Newman's classic films (pre-1968), but I'd like to give a shout to his performances in Hudsucker Proxy, Road To Perdition and especially the greatest movie ever about hockey, Slap Shot. Can I get a witness? But go back to Butch Cassidy and he and Redford make the prototypical action-movie buddy team, complete with witty banter and sterling chemistry.

I can remember the earliest occasions of seeing Newman's Own salad dressing at the grocery store and asking my mom about his charitable work. It was his popcorn though that was the big no-brainer, although in later years, his cookies and pretzels remained hits in my household.

Here's to those blue eyes. Maybe I'll find time to watch Butch Cassidy this week.

Peace

Comments

Being There [Grammy Recap]

Hey Soul Mates, Check out your boy. Yes, I did look that damn suave at the Grammys last night. Look, the tickets very clearly said "black tie." What could be less rock and roll than black tie? Not wearing "black tie." Frankly, the hipsters and the club girls just looked silly. Maybe I'm getting sartorially conservative, but you must be clean for the Grammys. We arrived early in the afternoon. A beautifully mild afternoon in downtown L.A. and not a sign of the predicted rain. I wanted to experience the whole nine, so we got there in time for the "Pre-telecast" ceremony. This is where 97 of the 108 gramophone statuettes are awarded. It was much more entertaining and endearing than the actual broadcast. The winners were genuinely moved, were not limited in their speech time and came in all stripes. Now, very few of the acts I voted for won. But the day did start off with a bang as OK Go won best short form video for the treadmill hopping video for Here...

John Lennon 40 Years On

Remembering John Lennon today. Forty years have flashed by. I can still hear my clock radio turning on to the incongruent sound of the Beatles on Dec. 9, 1980 and wondering why? I think about John every day. I am fortunate to have been able to make pilgrimage to Mendips, Abbey Road and Strawberry Fields, NY; to play on stages like the Cavern, the Jacaranda and the Troubadour where he performed or made trouble, or both. Here’s a quick playlist for you and me. (Just Like) Starting Over I Should Have Known Better Bless You Nobody Told Me Strawberry Fields Forever Nowhere Man Enjoy the day. Fill it with peace. Fill it with music. #JohnLennon #Liverpool

Murderous Haircut of the Mayor of Bel Air - Book Review

“The Murderous Haircut of the Mayor of Bel Air” is a trippy new mystery novel from Phillip Mottaz. It captures the grit and gilt of the City of Angels with the flair of a contemporary Raymond Chandler. The brisk pace and wit are reminiscent of Douglas Adams’s entries in the detective game. Flourishes of Fletch and “Medium” also spring to mind. However, Mottaz has added a psychic/mutant/superhuman touch and his own comedic voice, structure and internal monologues to the proceedings that help the author announce his own style and the arrival of a literary heroine for a new generation. Hairstylist and budding private investigator, Danica Luman is the perfect character to convey the irony, angst and sarcasm needed to tell a 21st century L.A. crime story. Danica also represents anyone who thought it would be neat to get tangled up in a mystery and the darkly comic cautionary tale that follows. The genre is recognizable, but Mottaz offers a fresh take on the not-ready-for-prime-ti...

Norman's Rockwell

Search This Blog