James Rising

Maybe it’s coincidence.

But in my never ending search for signs of the oncoming apocalypse this ranks right up there.

Because of the work I do I am extraordinarily sensitive to voices. I especially pay close attention to voices in movies and on TV. I often recognize the announcers..sorry they prefer to be called voice over artists..on TV commercials. Sometimes they can fool you. There is young guy out there making a pretty good living sounding exactly like Martin Sheen. I can tell when it’s him and not the real deal. I also notice little technical details. I can tell when a section of dialogue has been replaced in a movie. It just sounds different. To anyone watching with me it must be a tedious exercise. But it’s just me.

So it is with some interest that I noticed that two of the most recognized voices of all time passed on within a day of each other last week. Paul Winchell-the voice of Tigger and John Fiedler the voice of Piglet. They were 82 and 80 respectively.

I know that the franchise will go on. In fact truth is told the voice of Pooh-Sebastian Cabot has been in the hundred acre wood in the sky since 1977. Poohs’ voice and Tiggers have been done by a man named Jim Cummings for quite a few years. Some aspiring voice over guy will take on piglet and for most of you it will be just fine.

But me and Christopher Robin will notice the difference.

WEEKENDER Column:

We had an ongoing relationship for decades. There were times when I sort of forgot. Times when other relationships came first. But I always watched, kept track. There were times when I was riveted, held spellbound by unworldly beauty, quite literally.
I observed anniversaries. Marked the other milestones in my life by the big events in our ongoing relationship, some with great pleasure and satisfaction, and some with a sure sense that all is dust to dust.
I am not ashamed to say that it thrilled me, saddened me and ultimately left me empty, bereaved and bereft, more so than any other relationship I have ever had, or ever will. I can without any hesitation brand it as my longest relationship.
I am going through the classic stages of grief. Anger, but I am not really sure at whom. Denial that we could be so stupid, to let this part of our lives slip thru our grasp like it was never a big deal. Acceptance? I am nowhere near that yet.
Most relationships fail because the love cools, the passion fades. The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference, the blind eye. Not the case here, the heat of my interest remains but the truth of the matter is that people who have not the understanding for what it was, not even the vaguest idea of what it meant, what it came from and what it still could be, stepped in, got between us and closed the door.
Someone once told me it takes a lifetime to learn how to live one. While I have been in this relationship, just shy of 54 years, I have lived several lifetimes, raised children and seen them flourish, watched love ones grow old and pass from this world.
The pity is that the world, now, will never know what will be missed. This relationship gave far more than it took, enriched our lives in ways that few understand and once it’s gone, once the genie is back in the bottle, we will never know it’s like again.
In 1962, President John F. Kennedy said:
“… as we set sail we ask God’s blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked.”
With those words, he put in motion American manned exploration of space. And now it’s over. When we want to go to space we will hitch a ride with the Russians.
The irony is too much.

The Rant D’Jour is about the music you hear as you walk in to a concert.
The doors to the concert hall are opened to the public, the soundperson slaps on a AC/DC album…more

The doors to the concert hall are opened to the public, the soundperson slaps on a AC/DC album for “walk in” music for the crowd.

Ever happened to you? Probably not recently as the walk in music, that is the music you hear while you wait for the concert to begin has become pretty sophisticated.

Take Bruce Springsteen for example. While some bands might just throw on the cd they were listening to on the bus the night before, Bruce actually puts together his own playlist. Sort of like the Boss is a DJ a BOSS Jock. Couldn’t resist. Probably only radio geeks will get that one.

Anyway Bruce has even gone to the lengths of putting up the playlist on his website. It is to put it mildly a very eclectic mix. You will hear everything from obscure Bob Dylan to Robert Mitchum’s thunder road. You can see where Bruce found inspiration for some of his own music. Dave Van Ronk…Arlo Guthrie, the Staples singers. There are Drinking songs, train songs, political songs and death songs. You can check out the entire list at Boss Sounds before the concert

It’s an interesting concept that bears some thought. I may be wrong but I see some real potential for abuse. What if some artist decides to put subliminal messages in the walk-in tracks. BUY MY CD. BUY MY TSHIRT. Or the venue gets in its sales pitch. BUY BEER. Oh wait I just had a horrid thought. What if they start to run commercials like they do at movie theaters?

Think it won’t happen?

Tuesday Review:
True Grit
2010 PG-13 110 minutes

Deadwood, On HBO, was a big favorite of mine. It seemed to me that other than the fact that the cadences were Shakespeare-like and that the use of profanity was a bit overdone, the show had a better handle on what the real “Wild-West”was really like.

Possibly I am completely wrong but I get the sense that the directors (and screenwriters) of True Grit, Ethan and Joel Coen, probably watched the HBO series as well. In any case it reminded me strongly of that now defunct cable-only series.

Pretty tough act to follow, John Wayne. The original True Grit (released in 1969) won him an Oscar (his only one!) and a Golden Globe for his portrayal of the drunken, loutish U.S. Marshal “Rooster” Cogburn. Glen Campbell as his sidekick? Yikes! But it worked.

Jeff Bridges also works. I like Bridges very much, have ever since his role in Starman for which the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy & Horror Films, USA gave him a Saturn in 1984. He is on a roll lately with high profile jobs here and in the Tron sequel. He is perfect for Rooster Cogburn and gives a performance worthy of his nomination for an Oscar this year.

Matt Damon. Hmmm. Probably just as good as Glen Campbell in the supporting role of LaBoeuf, whose name is never fully revealed. He is OK in the role, and to be fair it was probably written stiff, unsympathetic and cigar store wooden. he only did as he was told.

But the true standout is Hailee Steinfeld as Mattie Ross. In her first major featured role she has an Academy nod already and she deserves it. She has already won a bunch of awards for the role. The camera just loves her and where a more experienced actor like Damon gave the material no insight, Steinfeld inhabits the words, strikes back at the deadly, prose-like dialogue and comes off a winner.

As for the screenplay/direction by Messer’s Coen. The is NOT No Country for Old Men and that’s a good thing. It does earn a PG but would it have been a better film if they pushed it to “R”? Nope. The gross ($171,031,347 (USA) (24 April 2011) bears that out.

The Rant D’Jour is about an old speech.
I believe..I can fly. That’s from peter pan, right? If you think happy thoughts wishes will come true, right?…More

ED NOTE: Written in 2005, shortly after a speech by the Mayor of Wilkes-Barre, Pa.

I believe..I can fly.

That’s from Peter Pan, right? If you think happy thoughts wishes will come true, right?
You know it would be easy to poke fun at Mayor Tom Leighton’s speech in Wilkes-Barre last night. The guy stood up after a week worth of Hype about some unbelievable announcement and basically sprinkled fairy dust all over the Genetti ballroom.

But for a change I won’t make him the object of sarcasm.

I am the last person to trust a politician. I grew up in the days of the Nixon Whitehouse. The only president I know of who had to be installed into his grave with an auger. Because of that I will probably never completely have any faith in those who run governments. But I do know this. If we don’t believe in something, a terrible thing happens.
Nothing.

When I came to this area 25 years ago Downtown Wilkes-Barre was a beautiful place. The Scranton downtown scared the crap out of me. Now it’s just the opposite. I worked in downtown Scranton while they fixed it. I remember when they blew up a couple of blocks worth of blighted buildings to make the mall at Steamtown.

That’s the kind of vision it’s gonna take to fix Wilkes-Barre.

But the biggest thing we have to blow up is in our heads.

The Mayor spoke about Negative attitudes. Not being from here but having lived here all these years I can say from both an insider’s and an outsider’s perspective that he is dead on right. I have never seen a place with an inferiority complex as bad as it is here. Nothing is any good. Everything sucks. It’s all run by crooks.
Well, maybe so. But it’s not going to change unless that attitude does.

I say give the deal a good run.

The Mayors speech last night included this recipe to avoid failure:

One: do what is right, not what is easy. We have and will continue to make difficult decisions.

Two: do the best that you can. We have a tremendous work ethic. Do not accept mediocrity; instead, insist on a commitment to excellence.

Three: Treat others as you want to be treated, with respect and integrity.
The Mayor went on to say:

Now, I ask all of you, whether you are a Council member, a CEO, a laborer or a student, to go out and tell your colleagues, families and friends that YOU BELIEVE.

And more importantly, make THEM BELIEVE.

In some ways it’s the most important thing that has happened in Wilkes-Barre in the twenty-five years I have been here.
This act of faith promoted by Tom Leighton can lead the city by the Susquehanna to becoming the city that everyone wants.
Or you can believe that it’s all a load of fairy dust. It’s all up to you.

Here is the entire speech:

I Believe Speech

Picture This:

I have written extensively about feelings about the idea of drilling where I live for Marcellus Shale natural gas deposits.

I am, as you can guess, not for it. That is to put it in it’s best possible light. If they had found sufficient quantities of gas in this area and proceeded apace with the destructive practice here I think I would have become an eco-terrorist. I feel that strongly about it.

In the picture is my worst nightmare as it is being lived someplace in Texas.

Texas has a rich history of such stuff. Oil wells, those ubiquitous pumps that look like the mechanical bird sipping from a water glass, dot the landscape. So Texans probably feel right at home with that towering, hulking monster in their backyard. I bet they barely even hear the noise, mind fighting the traffic generated by the hundreds of water tankers arriving daily.

Hell, Texans probably LIKE the damn things.

I guess so. Take a look at the houses. Pretty farkin’ fancy. Little brick Mc-mansions set down in some Texas shithole. Nice. Two car garage. Excuse me, two Pick-up truck garage. Those white trucks look new. The one on the left is a dual wheeler. Top of the line! Yet another car parked in the driveway. Also looks new.

Nicely landscaped. Big stockade fence in front, bigger one in the rear. Pretty good sized lot, some good space in between houses.

I wonder if the 30 pieces of silver were worth it?

The Rant D’Jour is about Boscoving.

Al Boscov wants a break-and I think he should get it.The downtown Boscov…Rant D’Jour

ED NOTE: Originally written in 2005 I see no need for an update.

Al Boscov wants a break-and I think he should get it.

The downtown Boscov’s store in Wilkes-Barre is in sad shape. It sort of looks like the rest of Downtown Wilkes-Barre. Like Dresden after the war. Compare it to the Boscov’s in the Steamtown mall. Or don’t because it will depress you.
You know it’s not so much that the place is falling apart-because it is. But you can tell the people working there for the most part just don’t give a fig. Empty boxes pile up in the aisles. Lights are out. The carpet is ripped, duct taped down and filthy. The displays are haphazard and not really inventive.

But I understand why this is so. How can you take pride in your workplace when all around you is squalor and despair? I have been taking some folks around the area who might want to work here. Downtown Wilkes-barre always gets the question, What happened here? I hardly know what to say.

Back to Al’s place. The parking garage for Boscovs’s in Wilkes-Barre is one of the scariest places I have ever been in. The passageways are too narrow for today’s behemoth SUVs as are the parking spaces. The surface is cracked and pitted with potholes. It’s dark on a sunny day. They used to charge for parking. Even Boscov’s doesn’t have the sack to ask you for money to park at your own risk there now.

So Al Boscov wants a reduction in his taxes. Almost $44 thousand dollars if the figures in the Citizens Voice are right.

If Al puts the money into paint, carpeting and light bulbs I say give it to him. Downtown Wilkes-Barre needs help.

Losing Boscov’s would be the wrong thing to do.

Or maybe I am wrong

Did you Boscov today?

Sunday Wrap:

That's a wrap

Monday July 11, 2011

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Tuesday July 12, 2011

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Wednesday July 13, 2011

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Thursday July 14, 2011

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Friday July 15, 2011

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Saturday July 16, 2011

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Aggregate

My head hurts, my feet stink and I don’t love Jesus.
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Not really sure where that came from but it seems appropriate.
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Don Corleone: I like to drink wine more than I used to…
[pause]
Don Corleone: Anyway, I’m drinking more.
Michael: It’s good for you, Pop.
Don Corleone: Ah, I don’t know…
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July days that are not oppressively humid or hot are the best of the year here. I spent some extra time in the little MGB yesterday. It was delightful.
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A man showed me a 4,000 watt sound system yesterday. It’s not as big as you might think. He claims to have measured it cranking out 130 decibels, which is impressive. One rack, and four three way cabs, hornloaded. The cabs are about twice the size of a refrigerator, maybe a foot shorter. I think with a hand truck and some elbow grease one man could load them in a step van.
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What would you do, if you hit the lottery? I would buy peace of mind, whatever it took for that for all my relatives that I care for. A shorter list than you might think. I would pay off all their debts and set them up. Then I would disappear down a rat-hole and never be seen again.
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But first. I would hire the man with the sound system above. Or buy it, more likely. Install it with a CD player on repeat. The installation should be hardened so it will be next to impossible to turn it off or disconnect it. Point it at my goofy neighbor and turn it all the way up. Just before midnight, moments before I leave to disappear down a rat-hole forever I would hit play.
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I guess it really doesn’t matter much what CD is in the player. But I have an outstanding collection of sound effects CD’s that I used in my studio when I was actively producing commercials. One is every type of gun and war sound imaginable. I should think that would do the trick.
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Why would I torture my goofy neighbor? The list is long. Here’s a small sample:

During a party at my place the goof was clearing his property in preparation for building. His technique was to pile all the stuff he cut incessantly with a chain saw, then light it on fire using automobile tires to keep it going.
It stunk, filled the area with acrid black smoke and left an oily black residue on everything.
Party day he was at it big time. I gritted my teeth and put up with it until a flaming tire rolled down my hill, narrowly missed a four year old and landed in my pool.
I marched up the hill with the tire and confronted him with the tire.
His response was: How did I know it was his tire?

Just one in an almost unending series of bad times with this asshole.
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There! My head still hurts, my feet are still fragrant and my love for the man on the stick has not increased. But I feel better. Thanks for letting me vent.

The Rant D’Jour is from 2005 and talks about cars, water and subterfuge.

Hurricanes Katrina and Rita could make your next car a lemon.The National Automobile Dealers Association…more

ED NOTE: From 2005

Hurricanes Katrina and Rita could make your next car a lemon.

The National Automobile Dealers Association (why do I picture a bunch of cigar smoking, hoagie eating car salesmen in plaid suits?)has warned us all to beware. The storms messed up something over half a million cars, including a lot of brand spanking new ones that were sitting on dealer lots in Louisiana and Mississippi. These cars should be totaled and scrapped but probably won’t be. After they are cleaned up they will be shipped to other states and have the titles (and the cars) “washed”, which means they will appear, on paper anyway, to be brand new and not vehicles that have been aquariums.

No big surprise I guess. You would think in this whiz-bang technical age that this sort of thing could be prevented. After all aren’t there things like car fax, where you car trace your vehicles history? Well, as it turns out those types of for profit services are at the mercy of State motor vehicle agencies for their info and you can imagine the disarray and maybe, dare we say it, reluctance to help out when millions of dollars are quite literally going to go down the drain.

The old rule always applies. If you are being offered a brand new top of the line fully loaded car for a price that is too good to be true, it probably is. The NADA (remember? Plaid suit boys?) has posted a 10 point check list of things that ought to make you go hmmmm. Find it at http://www.nada.org/ and click on the picture of Jack Kain head honcho at NADA to see the whole list. No matter what the title says, no matter where you are buying your next car, check for rust on screws in the interior. See if there is anything obvious like grit or mud under the hood. Lift up the carpeting to see if the under carpet has water stains. And if you open the glove compartment and a fish falls out, maybe you should reconsider that purchase.