I don’t consider myself a writer so much as a guy who scribbles his thoughts into cocktail napkins and then reformulates them for sale. It sounds more mercenary than literary, I know. Which is why this blog will remain anonymous for as long as I feel like coming here and venting on something or other.
This blog ain’t nothing but a thing.
A beautiful, fantastic thing. A mess of a thing. A guided missile rant of a thing that coats my stomach on late nights and early mornings when the want is mightiest. A thing to which secrets and spells and songs gather and fester and march. To their own drum, at their own speed. Like me.
Cayman’s TV Crush #1: Gotham
My son talked me into it, and I must have done something right because this is my DVR happy place (like tonight). Donal Logue plays Det. Harvey Bullock and he is my favorite character on this young season. But seriously, everyone is spot on. Det. Jim Gordon and his main squeeze Barbara are the sexiest of sexy couples. Robin Lord Taylor is the best penguin since like, ever. Sean Pertwee is a Daniel Craigish version of Alfred (Trust me). David Mazouz makes me okay with child actors, which is no small thing; he’s terrific. And now they are just piling on the good stuff with Frank Whaley making the scene (He, of Vacancy fame. And yeah, it’s fame to me . . solid flick, to which I’ll have a few thoughts shortly.) And this isn’t even mentioning (’till now) Camren Bicondova’s amazing rendition of the toughest of tough girl roles as Selina Kyle. And if I ain’t sold you on all that? Then watch Jada Pinkett Smith’s turn as Fish Mooney, and then tell me you don’t get this genius idea of a TV show.
There was a time- a few of them, actually- when I tossed with making this blog what my last blog looked like. Brand it, shop it, go podcast and bring in writers and make money. And then I remembered how miserable I was with all the bullshit I attended to on a daily basis. Editing, networking, dealing with IT guys who spoke a different language. The only humanity to the venture was a girl I met along the way. She was mercury with a pen, tell you what. If Mary Shelley and Charles Bukowski decided to have a baby . . yeah. If you’re looking for an inspiration to this blog, she’s it. Really. Holy crap, that’s a future post! See? Even I don’t know how these posts are gonna go until they start happening . . .
Cayman’s Quick Movie Thought: If you haven’t seen Vacancy, it’s not a bad Halloween fix. I told you I would explain the Frank Whaley reference, so here it is. I loved the ’70’s-ish opening title. But it kept me plenty interested after that, and Whaley? He’s a brilliant crazy man.
This blog is this blog. I brought it back to where the thought was and that is where it stays until the end of it. No strategy outside of the thoughts spilled. That’s what I love about the place . . the fact that it serves no better purpose than to shoot into the clouds, and then scream like Butch Cassidy and then run like the Sundance Kid. Letting hell trespass only makes things more interesting, the ways I sees it.
Cayman’s Gone Girl Preview: Saw the screening. Holy Cannoli Batman! Frank Whaley ain’t in it, and neither is Jada Pinkett Smith . . and somehow, it still does some kind of crazy good stuff. And if you just figured out that this entire post is a subliminal love letter to Ben Affleck (Who is gonna be a terrific Batman in my humble opinion), then you are smoking WAY better shit than me. So, send me some. USPS will do. Don’t worry about the feds, they’re busy blaming each other for the latest White House home invasion.
There’ll come a day when I’ll skip town. Hey, the Empire State Building ain’t forever. Nothing is. But that’s what makes it so much more beautiful. Knowing that it’s a piece of well used change, rolling the pockets of denizens inside of the now. For them. For here. For you. And for me.
Cayman’s TV Crush #2: 4th and Loud
I made fun of it . . until I checked it out. Watching Gene Simmons bitch about product . . I can tune into that shit all day. Football is just a bonus.
As for as Drinks Well, its end is a while off. There’s no rush.
Because there are no stats to belabor. No bells to answers, no eggs to fry. No means, no averages, no flowcharts or invoices or deadlines to sweat about. Drinks Well is just a here thing. A love thing. A peace and love and soul thing.
And the best part of the deal is? I met you.
PS- The Royals and the Pirates have to make it a World Series. Please?