Kerouac, Man.

 

I have been a major Jack Kerouac fan since I was about 15. I found On the Road and became fascinated with his world of jazz, poetry, and intellectualism. I would carry my battered copy around with me throughout high school, highlighting my favorite words and phrases. My friends and I started dressing in black and going to weekly poetry readings at the Enigma coffee-house. (My grandmother was very opposed to this – every week she would accuse me of going to hang out with dope fiends in an opium den. Really. In 1995.)

 

 

 

 

My high school Kerouac coup de grace (besides having his “burn. burn. burn” speech as my senior quote) was convincing ten or so of my friends to dress up as beatniks with me for Halloween. We went trick or treating, wearing our dark shades and black turtlenecks, calling out “Trick Or Treat, Daddy-O” as doors were opened. I then would start shouting passages from On The Road to them while  bebop jazz blared from my boombox. Needless to say, most people were flummoxed. Las Vegas is many things, but a literary hub is not one of them.

 

 

 

 

 

After high school I fell out of the obsession, but happily recently found it again – thanks to Walter Salles’ film adaptation of On the Road. I was nervous going in, since the book is practically un-filmable and because the subject matter is so dear, but I was overwhelmingly surprised. It’s a tremendous film. I know it’s been snubbed quite a bit because of Kristen Stewart’s involvement, but she is great in the film, and fought very hard to be part of it. Sam Riley is fantastically gruff and salty as Sal Paradise, Garrett Hedlund does a passable Neal Cassady, and Tom Sturridge shines bright as Allen Ginsberg.  It’s beautifully shot, and obviously made with great care.  The film captures the feeling and the energy of the book very well – fleshing out the naughtiest bits such as their frequent drug use and promiscuous sex for a modern-day audience . These portions are in the book, alright, just glossed over as would have been necessary in 1957, the year the book was published.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, it played in ONE theater in Los Angeles for two weeks. Seriously. I saw the film in its opening week, and dragged my boyfriend back to see it the second week, since I knew it wouldn’t last long. I don’t know what the studio did with their marketing campaign there, but it was really given a lousy showing. I’m sure it will be on VOD and Netflix and whatnot soon – please check it out, I’d love to know what you think.

 

 

As an adult, I’ve seen past the bongos and lingo to see what the Beats were really about – LIVING. Just experiencing everything as it comes and filtering it into language as best as possible. I can’t think of another literary movement so enthralled with just living living living – more, faster, crazier, louder. It’s really inspiring – DO MORE! BE MORE!

 

 

 

 

The one who has really captured my attention this time around, though, has been Neal Cassady (Dean Moriarty in On the Road and Cody Pomeroy in several others), Kerouac’s buddy and accomplice. Besides inspiring Kerouac to actually go on the road and, in turn, write his novels, he also was a muse to Allen Ginsberg and Ken Kesey – who later admitted to basing Randle McMurphy from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest on Cassady. He was the inspiration and spark  for two major cultural movements – both the Beats and the crazy Acid Head’s of the 60′s – Neal Cassady was the driver for Further, the bus that took Kesey & the Merry Pranksters across America to blow everyone’s mind.

 

 

 

 

How could ONE man inspire so much? Everyone who met him declared him god-like, holy, a man with infinite energy and enthusiasm – a man who wanted to live more than anyone they had ever met. I’ve ready several biographies/autobiographies of Neal now, and of course each one reveals the negative side to his incandescence – the constant disappearing and drinking, sex and drugs, leaving behind wives and children without a second thought if it led to KICKS quicker and easier. I’m not condoning such behavior, of course, but it has got me wondering. If Neal inspired so much incredible art – and only lived to be 42, mind you,  I have to root for him for living his life the way he wanted to and not ever letting anything get in his way.

 

 

So here I sit, listening to bebop jazz (the closest thing you could get to rock n roll in 1950), and dreaming of Neal Cassady. Wanting to meet him and just spend time LIVING myself. Lighting out for the territories myself and see what mad people await me out there in the world – because the only people for me are the mad ones….

 

 

A moving moment at the New Beverly

As everyone knows, the New Beverly Cinema is my favorite place in the world, and getting to work there is so incredible. I get to program double features for my birthday (this year its The Chipmunk Adventure & The Secret Of Nimh), meet my heroes and get paid to watch movies. What more could a girl ask for?

 

 

This past week we showed a double feature of Rian Johnson’s Looper & Brick with Rian in attendance. I got to know Rian when he did his week of programming back in 2009. He’s a funny, sweet, intelligent and humble guy – not to mention incredibly talented. He did lots of unique and fun things during his week of programming – power point presentations, musical performances, dancing – and his choices of movies (all con men movies in honor of Brothers Bloom) were amazing – including F for Fake, The Lady Eve, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen and The Man Who Would Be King. 

 

 

 

 

 

So, in short, when Rian is around, fun ensues.

 

 

Both nights screenings of Looper & Brick were sold out, and Rian brought along special guests both nights – actors Nora Zehenter, Noah Segan and Matthew O’Leary the first night, and Michele Posch, costume designer on Brick as well as his cinematographer,Steve Yedlin the second night. Both nights he also brought along his cousin and composer of all of his films, Nathan Johnson.

 

After the Q&A on the second night, Rian announced they had planned a little something special – I didn’t even know what it was. 

 

 

 

Rian, Nathan, Michelle and Noah proceeded to re-enact the opening scene of Brick, along with live musical accompaniment. Noah donned Joseph Gordon Levitt’s coat from the film and knelt by Michelle, who put on Emilie de Ravin’s jacket from the film and lay facedown on the stage. Nathan brought out his metallophone – the instrument that makes the haunting noise in the score - and Rian played guitar. I knelt by Rian and held the microphone. 

 

 

 

I have to say, kneeling there, in my favorite place in the entire world, transfixed along with the sold out crowd, watching these amazing people and hearing this beautiful music is right up there in my top five New Beverly moments – and that’s saying a lot. 

 

 

 

Just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge this incredible memory, and say how grateful I am to have such a terrific job. 

 

 

Connection.

Humans are  limited to their own senses to experience our existence — we can only see what our own eyes behold and can only describe what we view through language – ultimately a very limited way of sharing life.

 

 

Desperate for a better way to connect with one another  humans created art. Art – in any form – is a way of taking what is inside and sharing it when words fail. Any song, poem, book, painting, film, photograph, or dance is one person opening themselves up to the world and allowing other to see whats inside of their heart, brain, body and soul. Whenever you are moved by a work of art, it is because you see yourself in it. You recognize the emotions the artist is conveying – because you have felt the same way. You connect to that person. Some people feel that connection strongly to jazz, or ballet or abstract painting – I feel it to film. 

 

 

Film is such an incredible medium because it can encompass all of the other art forms. Film is a moving image captured for eternity,  and we are able to return to a specific slice of history whenever we like. We can remember how a film made us feel the first time we saw it, or marvel at how that same film seems to change when you see it years later. Film can be mere escapism or fantasy, it can be truthful or damning or experimental. It can be used to capture a specific moment in time, or – in the case of Apted’s UP series, a lifetime. To me, it is the best expression of humanity available.  Filmmakers are brave souls, who are willing to reveal their true selves to the world. And, just like every artist before them, they are trying to connect. They want to show the audience THEIR world – and they can be as varied as the worlds of David Lynch to Jean-Luc Godard, of Quentin Tarantino to Baz Luhrmann. 

 

 

Often times, the best part of glimpsing into another person’s world is to witness their vulnerability and their fallibility. To see mistakes. Films come alive when the unexpected happens – when the singer messes up a lyric or yells in excitement, or when an actor improvises a line that feels right in that moment. Something that couldn’t have been planned. I’m coming to realize as I get older just how beautiful imperfection is. There is a charm to things that are perfect, but to me wear and decay and the imprint left behind by man is far more dazzling.

 

 

One of my favorite things about film – and i’m talking about physical film now – is that it is imperfect. It is created by humans, which means mistakes will be made. The print will get scratched, it will get caught in a projector and broken, it will get dusty and old and faded. And to me, THAT is what makes film so enthralling and sublime. Watching a movie, I can see its history and all of the people’s hands that this particular print has gone through. I like knowing that it has been physically shipped around the world, that different projectionists have touched it, that it has gone through hundreds of projectors. And I love that I can see that up on the screen. 

 

 

I watched the documentary Sound City yesterday, and one of the things that struck me about the film was how similar Dave Grohls’ argument about the importance of analog music is to the one I am trying to make about analog film in Out of Print. He is a huge advocate for analog recording because it forces musicians to be in the same room at the same time, and have to actually play together. This sounds silly of course, but it is something essential to music that we are quickly losing. When you can record digitally and layer tracks infinitely, it is possible to record an entire album without the band ever being in the building at the same time. Listen to Marvin Gaye’s “Got to give it up” - what makes it an amazing song is that you can hear that he is having a party in the studio and is feeding off of the energy of everyone else in the room – It just takes the song to an entirely different level – we connect with it. It sounds like everyone in the studio that day was having a great time and we want to be a part of it. 

 

 

I feel like film is the exact same way – not only did everyone have to be in the same room to create the film, but you need to share the experience of watching it with an audience as well because it will change the energy of the film entirely. Have you ever had a movie that you loved as a child and watched on VHS constantly, and then had the opportunity to see it projected on film in a theater? I will bet you dollars to doughnuts that it seemed like an entirely different film. People will laugh at jokes you never got, and particular moments will stand out to you in a way that they never did before. The movie didn’t change, but the environment you watch it in will change your perception of it completely. I’m not a spiritual person, but the energy I can feel when I am in a packed theater with a crowd who is overflowing with excitement to see a film? That is an extraordinary and sacred feeling. 

 

 

I am in no way a technophobe. I celebrate the advancement of technology for many reasons. My point is that I just can’t understand why if humans looking want to feel connection and unity with other humans,  why do we continue to distance ourselves from that goal? The funny thing is that as much as humans desire true connections with other humans, we keep inventing technology that takes us further and further away from it. Human interaction is essential to existence. Why, then, are we allowing everything that is human about art to be taken away?  Music created entirely through a computer, with vocals run through auto tune so that they are essentially digital and sound nothing like an actual person’s voice. CGI is fantastic, but lacks the physical presence that practical effects have.  Digital films may be crisp and pristine, but also feel cold and detached. I have no idea what the future will look like anymore. In just the last decade, I feel that the transition from community to individuality has already begun to change mankind. I feel the lack of consideration for others and the loss of interest in public art forms is the tip of the iceberg – where it goes in the next fifty years is anyone’s guess. 

 

 

The intent of all of this rambling is just to say that I still feel that human to human connection is the most important thing life has to offer. The convenience of streaming netflix or downloading music is undeniable, but what is the cost? Will a time come when people decide they don’t want to watch films in cinemas anymore or go to concerts? If and when that happens, what does that say about how mankind has evolved?  I have no idea what the future will look like anymore. In just the last decade, I feel that the transition from community to individuality has already begun to change mankind. I feel the lack of consideration for others and the loss of interest in public art forms is the tip of the iceberg – where it goes in the next fifty years is anyone’s guess. Is all of this advancement leading to a happier future? I doubt it. I can only see humans disconnecting further from each other as time ticks on. Who knows? Maybe art will become even better as the cry for connection becomes more desperate. All I know is that I want my life to be full of people and film and art and love and  imperfection – and I want to see the world through as many people’s eyes as I possibly can while I’m here. 

I love you, Mr. Sutcliffe.

I am a dyed in the wool Beatles fan, and will be until the day I die.

 

 

 

 

When I was 15, I dug out my parents old Beatles records and started listening out of curiosity – was this band really the greatest band ever, as I had always heard? Answer: yes.

 

 

 

 

 

I took this new obsession to school with me and lo: my best friends transformed into the Beat Girls, all of us adopting a Beatle name (I was George) and listening to nothing but Beatles for the rest of my high school career. And wearing nothing but Beatles shirts. And watching Beatles movies every weekend. And falling in love and having my first kiss with a Beatles impersonator. (He was Paul).

 

 

 

 

 

And through all of this Beatles-ness, although we loved the Fab Four more than humanly possible, the one Beatle we all TRULY adored, myself especially, was Stuart Sutcliffe – the Beatle who never was.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m sure most of you know the story, so I won’t be long with it, but before the Beatles hit it big they played for several months in trashy nightclubs in Hamburg, Germany. (According to some, this is why the Beatles were so great, because they put in their “10,000 hours” of  rehearsal time that it supposedly takes to become GREAT at a skill) John, Paul and George were there, but their drummer wasn’t Ringo, but a gentleman named Pete Best, who had the unfortunate fate to get booted from the band just before they hit it big. And Paul wasn’t playing bass, John’s best friend Stu Sutcliffe was.

 

 

 

Stu and John met in art college in Liverpool, and Stu was roped into joining the band at John’s cajoling. He was a painter, not a musician, but they were best friends and I imagine most young Englishmen wouldn’t turn down a free trip to Germany to play in an upgraded strip club with all the free beer they could drink!

 

 

 

 

 

By all accounts, Stuart was a pretty terrible bassist, but the thing he had that no one else did was STYLE. And he was COOL.

 

 

 

 

Soon after arriving, Stuart met Astrid Kirchherr, a German photographer, and they fell madly in love. So in love, in fact, that Stuart became far more interested in spending time with her than he did in playing with the Beatles. But before he left, he and Astrid introduced the Beatles to their infamous mop top haircuts and Nehru suits – an important aspect of the look of the band, to be sure, then he quit the band, enrolled in the Hamburg Art Institute, asked Astrid to marry him – and died.

 

 

 

 

 

At age 21, Stuart Sutcliffe had a brain hemorrhage. The direct cause still isn’t known, although theories often point to a brawl in which he was savagely kicked to the head, or that he (and all of the other Beatles) were chowing down speed for months on end in able to play the 6 hour sets they were forced to play in Germany.

 

 

 

Stuart’s death affected the Beatles deeply, especially John, who was already struggling with getting over the death of his mother only a few years before. John believed that Stuart was a genius and looked up to him – HE was the cool, smart one – and so John felt forced to step into Stuart’s role. When you really look at all of the events leading up to the eventual reign of the Beatles as the THE BEATLES, its amazing to see how each one shaped them into what they would become.

 

 

 

 

 

In 1994, Iain Softley – after consulting long and hard with Stuart’s mother and sister and Astrid herself – wrote and directed a movie called Backbeat – all about Stuart’s story. Now its become a stage play, and I saw it last weekend. It’s a fantastic show, full of loud rock and young energy. (The older woman sitting next to me immediately put her hands over her ears when the music started). I was ecstatic to see it, and it blew me away. I was so happy to see Stu get the recognition he deserves, and the realization that his short life impacted so many people is really uplifting. You can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he would have lived. Would he have designed all of the Beatles album covers? Eventually rejoined the band? Had children? Become a famous artist? We will never know.

 

 

 

 

 

The show made me feel so lucky to know all that I know about the band. I got all of the inside jokes, recognized the hard work that went into the wardrobe and accents and music, knew every song by heart. I felt that my Beatles knowledge allowed me to get far more out of the show than anyone else there. I was part of the insiders club. And I knew all about Stuart. It made me feel so comforted.

 

 

But the Beatles are a never-failing source of comfort for me. I can play a particular tune, or watch a Hard Days Night, and suddenly I am ME again – and since the Beatles music never changes, it is a constant I can return to. I had a particularly rough end of 2007 – and what buoyed me up during that time? Seeing Across the Universe in the theater. A movie that, though flawed, took me in and gave me hope and made me smile. I saw it 12 times in the theater.

 

 

 

 

 

I had always thought, honestly, I would grow up and out of the Beatles. And while I may not listen to them every single day now, they are always in my heart. They are more than a band, they are my friends who understand me, and I feel like I understand them as well. I have a friend that I can always go to, and I know they will be there for me.

 

 

 

 

In 2010, I got my first tattoo – the strawberry that Jude paints in Across the Universe, along with the lyrics from Strawberry Fields Forever – “Nothing is real”. I love it even more today than I did when I got it. It gives me relief when it’s all too much, whatever is dragging me down isn’t real. And I think, in some strange way, that’s what Stuart knew too.  Stuart has, since age 15, held an otherworldly appeal to me. I am fascinated by this man who lived so hard and accomplished so much, even when dying so young. I am an atheist and don’t subscribe to spirituality, but the way I feel about Stuart Sutcliffe is about the closest I come to it. I understand him, feel that he is an important part of MY life, even though I never met him. I take inspiration from him being able to see beyond fame and fortune and recognize that they weren’t real.  They weren’t the most important thing to him. That’s something that took every other Beatle years and years to realize – that no matter how famous they were or how much money they had, that the thing they really wanted was true love.

 

 

 

 

 

For Stuart Sutcliffe, even at age 21,  love was more important than anything – even the fucking Beatles. THAT is real.

 

 

Another Independent Movie Theater Needs Your Help

 

From my 35mm petition through the making of Out of Print, I have had nothing but amazing support from Deb & Steve Snell who run Tor’s Drive-In in Australia. (Which has been running continuously since 1966!) A couple who love cinema from the bottom of their hearts, Steve and Deb have been fighting for their dream drive in for years. 

 

 

This is the kind of passion & persistence that theater owners all over the world are demonstrating  - to the deaf ears of the studios. I have been receiving so many incredible personal stories of movie theaters all over the world since the inception of  the petition, and every one inspires me and breaks my heart at the same time. I want, more than anything, for movie lovers & film distributors to read these personal accounts (like this, and those in my previous posts) and understand that movies mean more to people that just entertainment – they can be their entire livelihood. 

 

 

Digital is, of course, a threat to the drive in. But Steve assures me, “We will run on film until the last lab shuts down.” 

 

 

Please help me get their story told. We need to all fight together to keep these precious independent theaters alive and thriving. 

 

 

 

Deb writes: 

 

 

“Steve & I bought the drive-in over 20 years ago – he was 19, and I was 18.  Prior to this we both worked for Ben & Phyl DeLuca who own the Summergarden Theatre in Queens Beach – just an hour or so east as the crow flies, but 3 hours by road.  They have owned that theatre for over 50 years now!  Anyway, that’s where we met but we made the move west to run a drive-in.  We both had to work other jobs to keep the place (still do), but within a year or so we built another small drive-in so that we could run alternative product, for what is an extremely small market in Charters Towers (pop approx 8,000 – but this has fluctuated over the years – there seems to have been small, but steady growth over the past few years however).

 

 

We had also dreamed of building a cinema on the same property.  In the meantime the council here were talking about building their own complex – auditorium for performing arts etc and a cinema complex.  We tried to get involved and co-operate, but the then council didn’t want to deal with “those kids” and there were all sorts of unpleasant rumours circulating.  The film distributors and industry colleagues told us that we should build our own cinema anyway as at least we would retain some of the day market that we hadn’t been able to access with the drive-in.  

 

 

At around the same time, the cinema complexes expanded rapidly in Townsville – our nearest city approx an hour away, more free to air TV channels, pay TV, and the dreaded internet downloading of movies – mostly illegal.  Our son has teachers who quite proudly talk about downloading movies illegally – so we can’t overstate how  massive a problem this is in the industry.  So the cinema trade was fairly ordinary, then when the council venue opened, we only operated for a few years or so before we had to close it and get more work outside of the cinema operations we have here.  Any ideas we had (example, morning tea movies – a movie and free morning tea for $5), the opposition would copy and undercut us (they did it for $4 until we closed our cinema – there haven’t been morning tea movies in this town for over a decade now).  We later learned that the Council was paying our opposition management a substantial management fee, plus he was getting the venue virtually rent free, plus all the perks of being a council venue and enjoying free publicity and a high profile.  This was an election issue last year and continues to be rather contentious amongst the locals.  

 

Anyway, we kept the drive-in going as it had a bigger market than the cinema at our location – tough as we had inclement weather and we are a second run venue in a small town.  But it is a passion of ours and through other income we converted the cinema into a 2 story house and re-opened the second drive-in field we had going some 20 years ago.  So the twin drive-in has been going for just over a year, and it has been a very quiet year.  But we keep looking forward and now we are getting families and folks from Townsville making the trip for the “drive-in experience”.    Last year, after much negotiating, we brought up the Sydney Traveling Film Festival for the first time in Charters Towers and it came again this year.   It presented an opportunity for locals to see foreign and indy films theatrically – so many patrons had never seen a foreign film before in their lives.

 

 

Several years ago we also had the opportunity to purchase what was then “16mm Australia” which was a distributor for non-theatrical (schools, clubs, film societies etc.) and was running out of Sydney.  We managed to build that up as Amalgamated Movies and are the non-theatrical distributors for Sony Pictures Releasing and Madman Entertainment, Australia wide.   We store what is available from their 16mm catalogue and some 35mm prints.    Roadshow manage the rest of the non-theatrical market in Australia and several years ago dumped all of their 16mm prints – a few went to the archive, but a very few.  Compared to 35mm, 16mm can be rather substandard, but some of our prints are in very good condition and the latest of the catalogue comes up as well as 35mm on our smaller drive-in screen.  It all amounts to the film stock.  Never has the quality of film been so brilliant and durable, and they want to get rid of it.  We don’t understand why it can’t co-exist with new digital technology.

 

 

 

At the moment, there is widespread panic regarding the death of 35mm.  We have been told by most of the distributors, that they intend printing film for at least another 2 or so years, some are saying much more.  They get the prints struck in Malaysia now, so they don’t even cost half of the $1500 which is the cost being quoted regularly in the news and periodicals at the moment. Where we stand is that when film stops, the drive-in will be forced to be repertory (which is an incredibly small market in Charters Towers) and that will be restricted as most of the distributors are culling their 35mm stock at an alarming rate.  We couldn’t even access a print of Chinatown last year – this is insane.  If we were to get pennies from heaven and finance the digital conversion, we know that the equipments life would be very short – laser is around the corner and the technology keeps outdating itself.  Hundreds of thousands of dollars down the toilet!  So we want to stay open, but we just have to see what happens.

 

We recently had a Halloween night for the kids which was popular – they all got in for $5 and received a gift bag if they dressed up, and a couple of weeks ago a Christmas themed night which again was only $5 all ages. We don’t really make any money out of these nights, but it’s not really what we’re about and it gets traffic through the place at least.  It makes for a great night out for families as well, which is important for a community.  So we’re always trying new things, but our future is really in the hands of the studios at this point.

 

Thanks again for fighting the good fight!”

 

 

Smashing Pumpkins (and lots of other ugly ceramics)

 

 

It all started when my boyfriends’ roommate moved out and left behind a huge, hideous ceramic cupcake. It was so ugly and useless that I got an itching to smash it. David, being the understanding boyfriend that he is, assisted me in my odd compulsion and after I dropped it on the ground and then broke it into further oblivion with a hammer very sweetly swept it up and threw the shards away for me. And so an obsession was born….

 

 

As we all know, New Year’s is one of those love-to-hate-it holidays – in a similar vein to Valentine’s Day. You pretend to be too cool to care about it, but everyone knows all anyone wants is to find the BEST party of ALL time to be at when the clock strikes twelve. Let’s be honest, have any of you every found that party? I sure haven’t. So for the last couple of years, I have been trying not to stress about it, but just have fun. When David suggested that we spend New Year’s smashing more ugly ceramics I couldn’t say yes fast enough. 

 

 

I spent most of my Christmas holiday in my hometown of Las Vegas scouring thrift stores to find the cheapest, ugliest and most satisfying ceramics to smash. None cost over $4. We are talking pigs wearing overalls. Swans with teddy bears riding on them. Demonic easter bunnies. I was, truth be told, doing a world a favor by getting rid of these ghastly works of “art”. 

 

 

 

 

But still, David and I felt a little guilty for just smashing things for no reason. And then! I found out about Piece by Piece - an LA based charity that looks for broken ceramics in order to teach underprivileged folks how to make mosaics. Perfecto! Can you believe it? We could smash away to our hearts content in good conscience, and then actually HELP A CHARITY at the same time. Amazing. 

 

 

SO. New Year’s Eve David and I found a semi-private place in an industrial area of Glendale and hauled out our loot. A fair haul, if I do say so myself. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there was THIS guy – the piece de resistance – a truly horrifying specimen. (The eyes don’t light up, they were just glass marbles reflecting from the flash.) Can you imagine the person who donated this to the goodwill – or, more disturbing still – the “artist” who made this masterpiece?! YIKES. We decided we would save him for last. 

 

 

 

 

 

And MAN. If you have never smashed anything as hard as you can, I highly recommend it. It is so satisfying to the mind, body and soul. More people with violent urges should try this first before they use their fist or a gun –  it is a truly gratifying way to get out any anger, frustration or bad juju you might have pent up inside you in a totally “good clean fun” kinda way. 

 

 

 

 

 

We were slightly disturbed by the fact that no matter how hard we threw the objects, the ones with faces always smashed completely – except the face would almost always remain in tact. Creepy. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Know what else was creepy? These boots, just sitting on the curb, looking like someone had just stepped out of them. 

 

 

 

 

Then, there were three. These we mentally imbued with special miseries from the previous year and took out all of the frustration we had on them. So delightfully fulfilling. 

 

 

 

 

After the smash-a-thon, we started the monstrous task of sweeping up the enormous mess we had made. 

 

 

 

Half way through, the police rolled up. “Hey Guys”, David called cavalierly, continuing to sweep up large shards of broken pottery. “HI!” I cried sunnily, walking over to the car. “What’s going here?” the mustachioed fuzz inquired. “Oh, we’re just smashing pottery, but we’re all done now and we’re cleaning it up.” I said. The two cops looked at each other and laughed. “Alright, Happy New Years” they chuckled, and drove off. Painless. And probably their easiest call all night. 

 

The clean up took longer than expected, and we vowed next time we would shatter ceramics over a tarp for no fuss no muss clean up. We swept up every shard as best we could and bagged it all up for me to drive over to donate later this week. 

 

 

 

All in all, a FANTASTIC way to spend New Years. I think this may become my NYE ritual from now on. And now I have a whole year to ferret out ugly ceramics. I’m smiling just thinking about it…..

 

 

 

The Future Is Now!!

Every once in a while, something will be invented that makes me feel like we are slowly heading into a Bladerunner-esque future. It started with the electronic billboards around Los Angeles, which totally blew my mind. The fact that I can carry a video camera, phone, still camera, and music player with thousands of songs on it all in my small purse like it’s no big deal. Self inflatable tires. Ketchup bottles that pour like water. 3D printers – the list goes on and on. It’s incredible. 

 

And now – YOU, my friends, can buy your very own robotic cat ears that respond to your brainwaves. 

 

I saw the promotional video for these puppies about six months ago, and giddily announced to my boyfriend, David,  that I wanted these for Christmas. Well, guess what? Like the wonderful boyfriend he is, he remembered and bought them for me!! I squealed with absolute delight upon opening them yesterday. (We had an early Christmas, since he is going down to Mayan temples in Mexico to get a front row seat for the apocalypse on the 21st and write an article about it – you know, as you do). 

 

A company called Neurowear makes them, and they are called Necomimi. They are battery operated and have a sensor that rests against your forehead, and a clip that attaches to your left earlobe. You pop them on, hit the power switch and they immediately start calibrating to your brainwaves. And they TOTALLY WORK. 

 

The ears perked up when David held my hand or kissed me. If he ever needed any more solid proof that I love him, these ears made it super super obvious. They wiggled when I concentrated. They drooped when I was relaxed. Fucking amazing. 

 

We decided to go for a walk along Melrose that afternoon and I wore them out to test the reaction. Most people I passed on the street didn’t even look twice (It IS Los Angeles, after all). But – I went into three places that got three very different reactions - 

 

1. Golden Apple Comics – the man working there almost immediately commented on them and when I told him about them he said he had also seen them online. He was excited to see them in real life and asked how they worked. We had a nice little conversation – comic book guys would of course know about these things. 

 

2. Japan LA – the little Sanrio pop up store a little ways down Melrose. The cute Japanese girls there were utterly unimpressed. They said cute ears, and when I started to explain, they cut me off “Oh, we know”. They said, a little snottily. Wow. Okay, Japanese girls are already WAY over this. I started to feel like no one would be amazed like I was…and then..

 

3. Vienna Cafe, also on Melrose. I BLEW MY WAITRESSES’ MIND. Like, she couldn’t speak for about 15 seconds and just sat staring at me after I explained them. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. She was having her “future is now” moment. She asked all about where you could buy them (neurowear.com) , how much they were ($100), did they have different ears (etsy, of course, is all over this.) etc. It was CLEAR she was going to go straight home after work and buy herself a pair. Her mind was so blown, she dragged several of her fellow wait staff over to stare at me. She waited to see how they responded when I tasted my food. (they wiggled happily). THIS was the response I was looking for. 

 

I am a very very happy little kitten. The future is looking pretty goddam awesome from where I am sitting. Now if only I could get one of the new tails that Neurowear just debuted….Hmmmm…