Last Night at the Alamo Grindhouse (aka Watching Vintage Prints with director Quentin Tarantino) (2007)

Dressed in jeans and a black hoodie-- and clutching a beer-- film director Quentin Tarantino paced in the spotlight of the small stage of the Alamo Drafthouse theater in downtown Austin, Texas. He told the mostly male crowd that when he was in 6th grade, his mother had gotten him a subscription to Playboy. His first gift issue featured a pictorial on Casanova & Company (1977) a Tony Curtis/Casanova/ mistaken identity flick. Later re-titled Sex on the Run, it recently served as the kickoff film for Quentin Tarantino presents Last Night at the Alamo Grindhouse (May 10,11,13)—a three night mini -festival of grindhouse triple bills—showcasing Tarantino’s personal vintage 35mm prints of the low-budget gems that once played America’s drive- in’s.

The festival was inspired by the relocation of the downtown Austin, Texas Alamo Drafthouse, a quaintly tattered beer and food-serving movie venue. The downtown location was the first incarnation of what’s now a successful small chain of theaters known for eclectic programming. Sex on the Run was followed with Sex with a Smile (1976) an omnibus film of several short sex stories. The night ended with The Oldest Profession (1967) with seven directors contributing shorts on prostitution through the ages. (Tarantino’s sex comedy prints also screened at the 2007 Los Angeles Grindhouse Festival as Euro Sex Comedies Triple Feature.)

One distinctive aspect of the Alamo QT events is that there’s no velvet rope. The illusion: you’re watching movies in someone’s living room. Patrons are asked to refrain from seeking autographs or shoving screenplays into Tarantino’s face, but you can walk up and chat.

FANTASTIC FEST and Texas Chain Massacre: The Beginning (2006)

Swag from the premiere of TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE: THE BEGINNING

I think that a  version of this was published--in French-- in L'Ecran Fantastique in 2006, as I remember getting paid for it.

For the last thirty years, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise has featured the character "Leatherface," who has been one of the most enigmatic horror icons in genre films. He chainsaws, he chases, he apparently enjoys himself. Yet we never knew exactly why or how he developed his desire to sink his chainsaw into human flesh.

The new film Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning attempts to explain Leatherface’s origins. That doesn’t mean a wee Thomas Hewitt sitting in a therapists office discussing chainsaws and childhood trauma. Rather, this prequel to the events of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre focuses on the moment when the procurement and consumption of human flesh started to seem rational for the crazy, cannibalistic Hewitt family.

This gritty and darkly-shot film opens with Leatherface’s birth on the slaughterhouse floor. Abandoned by his mother, he’s taken in by the Hewitts. A brilliant and brief title sequence outlines Leatherface’s childhood.

The film then jumps to 1969, when the rural Texas slaughterhouse where Leatherface (Andrew Bryniarski) works is closing. Leatherface isn’t happy about losing his job, though it’s difficult to read his expression behind the black shroud covering his face.

Meanwhile the Hewitt’s hometown is threatening to become a ghost town without the money the slaughterhouse brings in. 

Dick Cheney Needs A New Hunting Buddy For 2006

In light of Washington's birthday (Feb 22), we should note that for generations American schoolchildren were force-fed the fable of George Washington fessing up to chopping down his father's cherry tree in a spurt of axe-testing enthusiasm.

Supposedly when poppa Washington sought the identity of the cherry- culling-culprit, his son came clean.

"I cannot tell a lie. It was I who chopped down the cherry tree, Washington reportedly said, copping to the cherry-cide. While likely untrue, the story was long trotted out as proof of Washington's willingness to stand behind his actions.

Today we have a vice president who took another approach to personal accountability. Vice President Dick Cheney,65, took his sweet time acknowledging he had felled not a cherry tree, but Austin attorney Harry Whittington, 78 while quail hunting in south Texas.

The story first focused on Whittington's actions. The New York Times reported on February 13 that Cheney shot Whittington when Whittington failed to announce his return to the group. The Saturday accident wasn't made public until Sunday, when ranch owner Katherine Armstrong called the Corpus Christ Caller-Times.

You'd think Cheney would have learned from both the cherry chopping chops of George Washington and the harrowing example of former President William Jefferson Clinton. Clinton's Thonggate demonstrated the painful consequences of not quickly owning up to your actions.

During the depth of Clinton’s disgrace, my father often said that the fuss over Clinton’s relations with Miss Thong Thang wouldn have been so severe had Clinton quickly admitted his misdeeds. I agree with him. Rather than publicly declaring “I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky,” we would’ve been better off if Clinton had quickly apologized for his office shenanigans, pleaded forgiveness from his wife and kept Ken Starr out of his sex life.

Living with a build-your-own DVR (2006)

Back in elementary school, I remember entertaining myself by mentally recounting the complete prime time schedule. Tuning out tedious teaching, I finally recalled exactly what aired opposite Fantasy Island.

Bored elementary kids certainly aren’t doing that today. With countless cable channels, it's impossible to remember what's on TV. Or watch it all.

Multiply that by TV scheduling that produces time-slot matchups like "Grey's Anatomy vs. CSI” and it’s clear catching your favorite shows requires effort, like programming the VCR. Alas, challenging VCR programming has spawned approximately 10,839,276.005 punchlines since the machines became popular in the 1980’s. Punchlines that generated laughs, because who hasn’t tried taping the Oscars, only to wind up with a basketball game? Or the other way around.

To insure seeing every single slam-dunk or soap-opera sizzler, many folks have switched to more user-friendly DVR's—digital video recorders, like the TiVo. The drawback: price, including the subscription service that makes most DVR’s functional. For example, TiVo’s web site sells a DVR capable of recording 80 hours of programming for 100 bucks. A one-year service agreement adds 15-plus bucks a month. For that many smackeroos, it would be cheaper to hire underemployed actors to recreate the episodes of Medium you missed.

Yet, if you're a cheapskate and/or the kind of person who finds fixing computers fun, you can build your own DVR, which doesn’t require a subscription. My husband built ours during Christmas 2005, using computer components lying around the house. I affectionately call it Frankenivo, after the monster Dr. Frankenstein cobbled together from spare parts, then cinematically brought to life with electricity.

What my geeky sweetie built was technically a MythTV. He did it by stripping down his old computer, installing the Linux operating system, putting it in a black box that fit in our entertainment center, then muttering incantations from several thick computer programming books.

Meet Mr. Duke (2005)

Many men dream of going out with a supermodel. A long-legged, blond-haired, jaw-dropping, traffic-stopping, stare-inducing, beauty who won the genetic lottery.

I go out with a 120 lb. supermodel everyday, and frankly sometimes it's a little much. Cars slow down, people stare-- and it's not me they are checking out.

What kind of dog is that?? is something we hear almost every time we leave the house. The question implies that looks like that don't come from random dog sex, but from hundreds of years of expensive dog breeding.

Sometimes I think people ask that question not because of their curiosity about his canine heritage, but because they want us to stop so that they can admire him, hands on. Everyone wants to stroke his blond hair and run their hands along his long, lean back and graceful fawn-colored ears. It's the same desire for luxury that makes you stroke cashmere sweaters and caress Italian sports cars.

My dog is one of the most beautiful animals in the city of Austin, and his only pedigree is the 55 dollar bill of sale from the Humane Society of Williamson County. Three years after we got him, he's still on the flier for the shelter, and I know there aren't two dogs like him in the world.

What does he look like? My sweetie is shaped like a German Shepard, but twice the size. He looks like Rin Tin Tin. He looks like a Belgian Malinois, but only in the right light. He has the looks and size of an Anatolian Shepard, except the ears are all wrong. He might be part Akita..and some people even think he looks like a wolf.

Alas, like many of the truly beautiful, he could care less about the attention of the masses. People stop to pet him, and he walks off in mid stroke, They stop watering their lawns to admire him, and he marks their bushes. He could care less about his public. Adulation from the great unwashed means nothing to him.

I can't imagine if we had actually paid to have something this beautiful in our lives. I know that if, on purpose, we had purchased a, well, whatever he is, we would spend a lot of time explaining why we had made this highly impractical choice. His coat is better suited to a professional sled dog than to his real life role as a sofa based, bark-a-lounger. He sheds so much we wonder why he isn't going bald.

As benefits a dog of his many advantages, he gives a lot back to the community. Every time someone asks where we got him, we proudly answer
"He's a Humane Society of Williamson County rescue dog!" The usual response is a slack-jawed: "I didn't know that you could get dogs like that at a shelter!"

So, if you are considering adding a pet to the family in the near future, try the shelter route. You just might end up with a stunner like ours. True love might be blind, but outer beauty never hurts.

The dog in the top, right-hand corner is Mr. Duke!