Raindrops on noses, and blisters on kittens
Just because today is United Nations Day, these are a few of SwanShadow's favorite things:
Favorite politician for whom I don't actually get to vote: Sen. Arlen Specter, Republican from Pennsylvania. Not because I agree with his politics — the man's a Republican, for pity's sake — but because his last name sounds like a superhero. (Don't know that I necessarily want to see the Senator bare-chested in a green cowl and cape, though.)
Favorite place to play free online poker: PokerStars.net. You'll often find me at the Sit and Go hold 'em tournament tables, polishing my skills for a future assault on the World Series of Poker. Since my chances of having a spare ten grand lying around for the WSOP buy-in are roughly equivalent to the odds of Donald Trump adopting me as his long-lost love child, I'll have to play my way in through an online satellite.
Favorite beverage: Cream soda. Because you can never have too much vanilla. Thomas Kemper makes a fine product.
Favorite drum riff in a rock song: This one's a tie, between Phil Collins's monster slam at the climax of "In the Air Tonight" and Roger Taylor's pell-mell scramble across the toms before the last chorus of Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls."
Favorite junior assistant district attorney on Law & Order: Paul Robinette (Richard Brooks). How come Paul never got a chance to try a case in court?
Favorite ride at Disneyland: Pirates of the Caribbean. Yes, even after they tweaked the animatronics so the pirates aren't attempting to molest the wenches any more. Lacks the flash and dash of the Indiana Jones experience around the corner, but remains unmatched for story continuity and classic Disney feel.
Favorite movie by a director whose films I usually dislike: Panic Room. "Wretched excess" is the phrase that comes most readily to mind when I think of David Fincher's cinematic oeuvre. Se7en, the concept of which is actually rather clever, devolves into a nauseating exercise in grotesquerie. Fight Club may well be the most infuriatingly and undeservedly self-important motion picture I've ever sat through. But Panic Room is a straightforward, cracking good thriller that never steps falsely. Jodie Foster (a last-minute stand-in for the injured Nicole Kidman, who would have weakened the film considerably) and Forest Whitaker are both as exceptional here as they've ever been, and that's saying something.
Favorite fast food indulgence: Fish tacos at Rubio's. Mmmm... fish tacos.
Favorite contemporary mystery writer whose name isn't Robert B. Parker: Harlan Coben. I usually only read series characters, but even though Coben appears to have abandoned his continuing protagonist — sports agent extraordinaire Myron Bolitar — for the best-selling joys of one-shot suspense potboilers, I can't put his stuff down.
Favorite name to appear on a major league baseball lineup card: Rusty Kuntz. Seriously. You could look it up. Me, I'd have changed it. Maybe even to Urban Shocker, which sounds more like a Wes Craven film or a hip-hop artist than a baseball player.
Favorite place to spend a one-of-a-kind night: The Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo, California. The world's most bizarre motel, its eclectic conglomeration of 108 themed guest rooms runs the gamut from kitschy to just plain weird. You'll never forget the experience. (And no, I don't know if Madonna ever slept there. But if she did, she probably chose this room.)
Favorite Saturday morning viewing, nostalgia division: The Herculoids. Think Tarzan of the Aliens. Just a guy, his babealicious wife, and their preadolescent son, running around in loincloths on a far-distant planet with their five giant monsters: a laser-shooting dragon, a granite gorilla, a triceratops equipped with a grenade launcher, and a couple of animated Jell-O molds. With characters designed by the great Alex Toth, cartoon adventure didn't get any cooler than this.
Favorite Saturday morning viewing, contemporary division: America's Test Kitchen. Geeky foodie magazine editor Christopher Kimball (Cook's Illustrated) hovers about while his two culinary experts, Julia Collin and Bridget Lancaster, prepare simple but exceedingly tasty-looking fare. Unlike most TV cooking shows, the dishes are mostly made from ingredients you might actually buy, and the recipes actually work in your home kitchen. (We've proven it.) In the middle of each episode, one of Chris's equally geeky friends drops by to reveal the results of either a taste test of some food product, or a trial of some handy kitchen gadget. Julia and Bridget can come over and cook dinner for me anytime. Just leave Chris and the geeks at home.
Favorite comic strip: Setting aside Peanuts — which transcends the realm of comics into that of cultural icons — without question the greatest daily strip of my lifetime was the late and much-missed Calvin and Hobbes. For ten wonderful years, cartoonist Bill Watterson opened our eyes to the universe, as seen through the unique perspective of a six-year-old boy named Calvin, and his stuffed tiger companion who lived only in Calvin's imagination. If a mysterious benefactor with a chunk of spare change wanted to win my undying admiration, said benefactor could deposit a copy of the newly released Complete Calvin and Hobbes bound collection on my bookshelf. (It lists for $150, but I hear tell that Costco is selling it for $80, and Amazon for $95.)
Favorite place to stand in San Francisco: The north end of Pier 39, looking out over the Bay toward Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge, with the sea lions barking the daily news into my ear and the tang of salt water and decaying seaweed assaulting my nose. If I'm in a good mood, I might even drop a dollar in the street performers' hat.
All right, so it didn't have anything to do with United Nations Day. But it was fun while it lasted.
Favorite politician for whom I don't actually get to vote: Sen. Arlen Specter, Republican from Pennsylvania. Not because I agree with his politics — the man's a Republican, for pity's sake — but because his last name sounds like a superhero. (Don't know that I necessarily want to see the Senator bare-chested in a green cowl and cape, though.)
Favorite place to play free online poker: PokerStars.net. You'll often find me at the Sit and Go hold 'em tournament tables, polishing my skills for a future assault on the World Series of Poker. Since my chances of having a spare ten grand lying around for the WSOP buy-in are roughly equivalent to the odds of Donald Trump adopting me as his long-lost love child, I'll have to play my way in through an online satellite.
Favorite beverage: Cream soda. Because you can never have too much vanilla. Thomas Kemper makes a fine product.
Favorite drum riff in a rock song: This one's a tie, between Phil Collins's monster slam at the climax of "In the Air Tonight" and Roger Taylor's pell-mell scramble across the toms before the last chorus of Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls."
Favorite junior assistant district attorney on Law & Order: Paul Robinette (Richard Brooks). How come Paul never got a chance to try a case in court?
Favorite ride at Disneyland: Pirates of the Caribbean. Yes, even after they tweaked the animatronics so the pirates aren't attempting to molest the wenches any more. Lacks the flash and dash of the Indiana Jones experience around the corner, but remains unmatched for story continuity and classic Disney feel.
Favorite movie by a director whose films I usually dislike: Panic Room. "Wretched excess" is the phrase that comes most readily to mind when I think of David Fincher's cinematic oeuvre. Se7en, the concept of which is actually rather clever, devolves into a nauseating exercise in grotesquerie. Fight Club may well be the most infuriatingly and undeservedly self-important motion picture I've ever sat through. But Panic Room is a straightforward, cracking good thriller that never steps falsely. Jodie Foster (a last-minute stand-in for the injured Nicole Kidman, who would have weakened the film considerably) and Forest Whitaker are both as exceptional here as they've ever been, and that's saying something.
Favorite fast food indulgence: Fish tacos at Rubio's. Mmmm... fish tacos.
Favorite contemporary mystery writer whose name isn't Robert B. Parker: Harlan Coben. I usually only read series characters, but even though Coben appears to have abandoned his continuing protagonist — sports agent extraordinaire Myron Bolitar — for the best-selling joys of one-shot suspense potboilers, I can't put his stuff down.
Favorite name to appear on a major league baseball lineup card: Rusty Kuntz. Seriously. You could look it up. Me, I'd have changed it. Maybe even to Urban Shocker, which sounds more like a Wes Craven film or a hip-hop artist than a baseball player.
Favorite place to spend a one-of-a-kind night: The Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo, California. The world's most bizarre motel, its eclectic conglomeration of 108 themed guest rooms runs the gamut from kitschy to just plain weird. You'll never forget the experience. (And no, I don't know if Madonna ever slept there. But if she did, she probably chose this room.)
Favorite Saturday morning viewing, nostalgia division: The Herculoids. Think Tarzan of the Aliens. Just a guy, his babealicious wife, and their preadolescent son, running around in loincloths on a far-distant planet with their five giant monsters: a laser-shooting dragon, a granite gorilla, a triceratops equipped with a grenade launcher, and a couple of animated Jell-O molds. With characters designed by the great Alex Toth, cartoon adventure didn't get any cooler than this.
Favorite Saturday morning viewing, contemporary division: America's Test Kitchen. Geeky foodie magazine editor Christopher Kimball (Cook's Illustrated) hovers about while his two culinary experts, Julia Collin and Bridget Lancaster, prepare simple but exceedingly tasty-looking fare. Unlike most TV cooking shows, the dishes are mostly made from ingredients you might actually buy, and the recipes actually work in your home kitchen. (We've proven it.) In the middle of each episode, one of Chris's equally geeky friends drops by to reveal the results of either a taste test of some food product, or a trial of some handy kitchen gadget. Julia and Bridget can come over and cook dinner for me anytime. Just leave Chris and the geeks at home.
Favorite comic strip: Setting aside Peanuts — which transcends the realm of comics into that of cultural icons — without question the greatest daily strip of my lifetime was the late and much-missed Calvin and Hobbes. For ten wonderful years, cartoonist Bill Watterson opened our eyes to the universe, as seen through the unique perspective of a six-year-old boy named Calvin, and his stuffed tiger companion who lived only in Calvin's imagination. If a mysterious benefactor with a chunk of spare change wanted to win my undying admiration, said benefactor could deposit a copy of the newly released Complete Calvin and Hobbes bound collection on my bookshelf. (It lists for $150, but I hear tell that Costco is selling it for $80, and Amazon for $95.)
Favorite place to stand in San Francisco: The north end of Pier 39, looking out over the Bay toward Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge, with the sea lions barking the daily news into my ear and the tang of salt water and decaying seaweed assaulting my nose. If I'm in a good mood, I might even drop a dollar in the street performers' hat.
All right, so it didn't have anything to do with United Nations Day. But it was fun while it lasted.
SwanShadow was randomly pounding the keyboard at 2:35 PM
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