Tulips + Shriners = End of Days (not really)

Being as the weatherman predicted a Seattle April heat wave of 80 degrees on Saturday, we decided to be "outsidesy" and head out to LaConner to take in the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival. I'd seen postcard pictures of the tulip fields for years, and as a native Washingtonian it one of those nagging items on my "bucket list" to check off.

We spent the morning literally tiptoeing through the tulips, as well as the mud - Tiny Tim left that part out of the song. I was a little underwhelmed - I'd expected seas of tulips as far as the eye could see, but it was more like the occasional big field and a lot of smaller, but very gorgeous patches.

We stopped in downtown LaConner for an afternoon of antiquing, art-walking, and gnoshing. My heart lept when we saw a food vendor selling my latest food addiction, indian flatbread. Their flatbread tacos, stuffed with salmon (Adrienne had beef), cream cheese, and salsa was right in my junkfood palate's wheelhouse!

As we were readying to leave, our exit was postponed by a town parade - though we couldn't have refused the chance to see Shriners driving those tiny cars anyways. When we got home, Adrienne gasped at the supernova sunburn on my pasty-white neck. Thankfully, I'd been wearing a baseball hat to protect my delicate noggin.

"See Washington's Tulip Fields" - check

2008: What a year for men in tights

As a perpetual juvenielle and fan of costumed perverts, er, crimefighters, 2008 just might overload my cinema-libido with it's super-lineup. It's a veritable festival with more chicks and guys in tights, monsters, and cliffhangers than you can shake a stick at!



I kicked the Year of Heroes off Saturday with "Doomsday" - Neil Marshall's "homage" to Escape from NY and Mad Max. I gave Adrienne a get-out-of-jail card by offering up the chance to see "Horton Hears a Who", which was playing at the same theaters, but the screaming throngs of children (it was 3pm) nudged her to pick Doomsday. It was about what I expected - incredibly dumb, but pretty fun. The first 3/4 of the movie was nearly a great Snake Plissken adventure - what Escape from LA should have been. Director Neil Marshall made no bones about modeling his heroine Eden Sinclair after Plissken - right down to similar attire and an eyepatch that she occasionally uncovered to reveal a cyber-eyeball cam. (Which sounds insanely dumb, but it suited the grindhouse vibe). The production quality and polish were much better than I expected - the post-apocalyptic Scotland was executed really well for the most part. But Marshall's spastic, rapid-fire editing gave me a headache during many of the action scenes, and the movie's finale landed with a thud - It was a silly Mad Max-ripoff road chase that was out of place even for the lowbrow spirit of the movie up to that point. Doomsday was also far and away the most violent movie I've seen. At one point, the post-apolalypic Scottish C.H.U.D.S barbeque a live captured soldier - in full frame from roasting to tearing him apart and eating, which was a bit much for my tastes (pun intended). Contrary to many of my peers' opinion, I actually avoid gory movies for the most part. Though I do love cheesy-gory movies like Evil Dead and Reanimator, I avoid torture-porn stuff like Saw or Hostel.

The trailer for the new Hulk movie ran before Doomsday, which looked marginally better than Ang Lee's awful attempt. I have high hopes for Iron Man, Hellboy 2, and Batman. And the pics for Zack Snyder's take on Watchmen have me giddy!

Feliz Navidad y Feliz Año Nuevo

After a nice winter break, it's back to the Microsoft mothership come Monday. Today, the tree and decorations are getting packed up and crammed into storage, the Xmas candy is in the pantry, and gifts are being sorted and put away. The marathon of Christmas craft shows, light displays, freak Seattle snowstorms, endless gorging on decadent food, and reuniting with friends and family seen too infrequently has come to a finish.

One of the more surreal moments of the Christmas season was getting lost in Bellevue's tighty-whitey community of Medina on a dark and rainy night, en route to my grandmother's dinner at the stuffy Overlake Golf & Country Club (I kept an eye out for Judge Smails). I asked a lone, rainslicker-garbed fellow walking his dogs for directions, and was surprised to recognize former Washington Senator Slade "Skeletor" Gorton. He was kind enough to give directions, though my juveneille brain was scrambling for some kind of witty crack the whole time, so I didn't hear a helpful word he said.

Hittin' the (cold) town

Friday was hot date-night on this traveler's calendar as Ad and I braved the frigid Seattle streets at night and caught Kim Virant at the Triple Door. I'd read rave reviews about the venue, and Kim Virant had played there before - but alas, at the time I was a lonely single bloke, and uncomfortable with the idea of sallying forth to such a swanky juke joint flying solo. Hot gal around my arm this time, however, the Triple Door and the divine Miss Virant didn't disappoint. A scrumptious asian-fusion dinner and cocktails was followed by a great performance, though I was still left yearning for Kim's former bandmate Brian Kenney, in attendence, to join her onstage to blow the doors down with a couple blistering tunes from their band, the legendary and much-missed Lazy Susan.

Good News Everyone! Futurama Is Back!

I'm all giddy for next week's release of the long-awaited Futurama straight-to-dvd movie, "Bender's Big Score". Simpsons should have passed the torch to Futurama and retired gracefully, but FOX never did have a clue what a great show they had on their hands. I'm grateful for it's return nevertheless, since I've rewatched the original series ad nauseum.

Ad and I went to not one, but two different holiday craft shows last weekend, and I pretty much came up empty handed. But I did discover a snack that uncannily resembles "Popplers" from the Futurama episode, "The Problem With Popplers". Not only does Cosmos caramel corn look identical to Popplers, but they're equally as addictive. They may be caramel covered, baked corn puffs, but they taste even better imagining they're sentient alien larvae.

I want more life....f*cker!

Last night's screening of the "Final Cut" of Blade Runner at the Cinerama was moviegoing at it's finest. The print was immaculate - I doubt any of the original prints in 1982 even compared. The sound literally shook the railings, and Roy Batty and Deckard never looked so glorious in Syd Mead's fantastic vision of 2019 Los Angeles. I'm looking forward to having a dangerous, illegal, and taboo relationship with a replicant for my 51st birthday.

The changes were minor - mostly it was cleanup of the print, sound, and effects shots, including digitally removing the obnoxious wires lifting the full-scale spinners when they took off from the street, which always bothered me. The re-compositing of new footage with Joanna Cassidy crashing through glass in her death scene was flawless. My only minor complaint was that one of my favorite lines was tweaked - when Batty confronts Tyrell with the line "I want more life... FUCKER!", the line is now a softer, kind of mush-spoken "..father". But this hardly detracted from the overall improvements and the joy of seeing it in 70mm glory.

What happens in Vegas...

We touched down in Las Vegas Thursday, and immediately commenced upon a spree of booze, food, and gambling that would have made Henry VIII proud. Leaving soggy and cold Seattle behind for sun-kissed 85-degree desert-heat Vegas was a welcome break.

Thursday night we cavorted at Poly Esther's nightclub, since it was the only club we could find that would admit the casual attire of our party. We molested the wax statues of Madame Tussaud's at the Venetian, watched Penn & Teller work magic, and bowled at Lucky Strike Lanes at the Rio, where Beca rolled her personal best score of 174!

Saturday, Ad and I visited Hoover Dam, which lived up to it's hype. And in the wee hours of the morning, we played our favorite slot machine, "Ring Quest", and I hit a 20,100 credit jackpot (in pennies, sadly), making this my first Vegas trip where I left with winnings.

Ad and I are getting along better and better, even under the duress of a grueling return trip plagued by insanely long security lines, delayed flights, and tarmac shuttle mishaps at LAX (Note to self: Spring for the extra cost for direct flights unless it's obsenely expensive next go-round).


More pics of the lost weekend on Flickr: http://tinyurl.com/2vjjmc