For Tully

Hesher

Venturing forth once again to see the films that most are unlikely to go see for themselves...

Hesher assembles five mismatched characters in the dark tale of a family trying to survive the grief of losing a wife and mother.
T.J (Devin Brochu) is the young son, about jr. high school age, dealing with his issues through a string of erratic behaviors, vandalism, ditching school, and getting his ass whipped by bullies, until he friends...

Hesher (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a greasy, long-haired wasted burn-out who's main interests are heavy metal, pornography, and blowing shit up. Not as much of a friend as a hanger-on, Hesher squats in the family's home threatening them if they make him leave, while finding ways to maximize whatever trouble T.J. is already wrapped up in.

Rainn Wilson plays T.J.'s pill popping dad, too obsessed with his own grief to see what is happening to his son while Granny Piper Laurie), old and weary, does the best she can to provide a home for them both and doesn't seem to mind Hesher hanging around. For all his outbursts and vulgarity, he's the only sign of life in the household.

T'J. becomes obsessed with Nicole, the checker at the local market, well played as a mousy, plain Jane with her own struggles by Natalie Portman. NO! I did not know Natalie was in this before I got to the theater. It's not my fault she's on a personal mission to appear in every damn release, week after week.
It's seems T.J. sees in Nicole the kind of affirmation he needs at this point, especially after her gutsy intervention saves him from another asswhipping from his favorite bully. She becomes the target of his affections, but these are the affections he hasn't yet the knowledge or understanding to act on.

It's a shitty subject upon which to tell a story though all of the performances are first rate. Alas, performances can only go so far and as a result the project is, for the most part, a dud, but it's Joseph Gordon-Levitt's Hesher that steals the show along with every scene he's in.

I dis-recommend this movie for all but the very few twisted minds who might appreciate it (Brian?). It's a limited release anyway, so it should be Netflix bait before long.

An interesting aside: the end of the movie takes place in a funeral home and as the action moved outdoors my jaw hit the floor... right there on the big screen is my neighborhood of youth, and the funeral home I passed by damn near every day since I lived literally right around the corner from it (less than 100 yards), along with the boulevard and railroad tracks that demarcated the 'other' side of town. So, yeah, wanna see where I'm from? (And where I paid final respects to countless others) There it is.

NOOOOOOOoooooooooooo......

I was pretty certain that Sarah Palin was not intending to run for the presidency, but now it appears that I may have been wrong.

I can't think of any other politician I'd least like to see or hear from for the next 18 months.

Somthing Is Bugging Me

They were at my neighbor's house yesterday. He called the death squad and it just chased them over to my house.
I've asked him to please get his animals out of my yard. If they're still there tomorrow, I will call my own death squad.


I just hope that they haven't nested in the attic. So far, it looks bee-free.

*Update: they are all gone, and I didn't even have to call the executioner.

Pies & Pints

I found a nice place in Seattle that offers some really solid grub: Pies & Pints, just north of the U District.

It's just as the name sounds, with the focus being pot pies and beer. They got other stuff too, but I didn't venture that far down the menu board.

We ordered up some pies and sides, and a pitcher of red ale from Odin's Brewing, a local producer. Seems most establishments in and around the region like to focus on the regional breweries. I like that idea myself, and wish it would catch on more in SoCal.

The pies are all hand made. I ordered the Steak and Potato with a side of mash. I found the crust nice and flaky, the beef was tender and seasoning in the gravy was about right for me (though my daughter bitched a little about it.) The mash was more along the line of what your mother would make at home (with real spuds) as opposed to typical restaurant quality (from flakes).And the wait staff (though not as heavily tatted (or as rough looking) as those gals(?) you'll find in Portland's breakfast joints) was friendly, attentive and knew their beers.

It's a hearty meal for about $15 per person and you'll enjoy the pub atmosphere. I went there twice in three days, it's that good.

Scenes From The Road

OK, the Rapture is officially over. Either I didn't make the cut, like the rest of you who are still able to read this, or this is Heaven, because we know that all a man really needs is Bible and a level of conceit to find the Truth (and make some money from the guillable faithful, if he's talented enough.)

On to the real news...
About the best thing that's happened around these parts is my triumphant return home from my triumphal visit to Seattle and the lands that lay between. I don't think I'll ever tire from that drive, though I could do without the Los Angeles-Sacramento portion of it, much of which now looks like this:

California's central valley was once among the world's leading producers of cotton. Last year, the Feds decided some pissy little mud minnow to the north needed more water for itself and placed a stop to water flowing south.

Today, instead of miles and miles of cotton farms, you can see miles and miles of this.

Ain't that special?

I always get a chuckle out of this sign. >>>



I love the smell of ag in the morning...
This is a wheat field somewhere near Los Banos, south of Sacramento. The sweet smell of fresh green farmland was one reason why I make this drive.








A big snow season has passed and Mount Shasta should be providing plenty of fresh water to the streams and rivers for a good while.








No bull, it's actually a bellowing cow sculptured from scrap metal. My favorite landmark, it looks almost real as you drive by at highway speeds, just a few miles north of Weed, at the base of Mt Shasta.
I'm no art aficianado, but this is art if you ask me.



Just south Oregon:


Seeing just a small fraction of the grandness of creation makes me realize just how insignificant I really am., and how much more awesome the Creator really is.

Waiting...

Still got a few more hours to pull off this Rapture thing. If I'm still here, I'll have some posts for the blogosphere in the morning.