Weekly Rochester Events #226: This Stupid 1,622 Year-Old Clock Face is Getting Dim
Thursday, May 8, 2003Ok, so this week brings another of those TestDate events. I'm completely torn on whether to go. I'm feeling absolutely pathetic lately and really don't want to date anyone ... and even less so than my usual jaded self. This is from the heart, kids. I have to get off my butt and do things! And not just writing this page or going out to see bands. I gotta get going and get photographs displayed somewhere, and finish the gas mileage project, and work on that restaurant idea, and make more fun things at the JayceLand's CafePress Store, and work on that book that I just started, and finish that short film idea ... and the other 112 things in my idea list. Otherwise, I'll just be some loser fraud guy with a bunch of "ideas." What better reason to not date anyone than that you wouldn't date yourself, even if you were gay.
By the way, you should have just skipped that paragraph because you can kiss off if you think you're going to bill me for psychotherapy time. Ha! So there!
I almost forgot ... speaking of single events, I'll be working on a Flower City Habitat for Humanity house with the Single Volunteers of Rochester. I'm not very interested in getting involved with that group, but the Habitat thing had appeal, and it was very little effort for me to sign up. Hopefully I'll be able to make it to O'Bagelo's (165 State Street) for lunch since the event is not far away at 124 Fulton Ave.
Before I delve into this week's lengthy editorial, let me editorialize a couple things. First, I suddenly like The Dixie Chicks. I'm not a country music fan in general, nor have I really listened to anything they've ever produced other than by accident, but Natalie Maines went and said she didn't approve of our President's actions and actually put him in a bad light ... well good for her. It's nice to see that there's someone in "America" who isn't afraid of the McCarthy Trials II to come in 2004 when she'll be burned at the stake.
Second, I want to say that I now hate the Kimberly and Beck show on 98.9 "The Buzz" (you know, the 1980's station) and I don't listen anymore. Last Wednesday they had a sound-byte from Hillary Clinton where she said "I am sick and tired of people who call you unpatriotic if you debate this administration's policies. We are Americans. We have the right to participate and debate any administration." [According to a press release I found, she was shouting over the audience who I think were cheering.] Anyway, Beck said that she must have been "PMS-ing" or pre-menopausal for yelling so loudly and Kimberly agreed. I really can't stand that misogynist bullshit that goes on every morning. If that were Bill Maher or Bart Simpson, they'd be commenting on the content of the message, but since it was Hillary—who is *gasp* a woman—they feel the message takes a back seat to her gender. Damn it, get your asses out of the 1580's and get real you morons.
Whew ... let me just put in a one-sentence paragraph to prepare for the upcoming change of topic.
Anyway, I got to go to the Rochester International Film Festival last weekend. I guess they're playing down the "Movies on a Shoestring" name, although that's the unofficial name of the festival. Yeah, yeah. I got to see all the showings, but I did miss one and a half films. First, here's my list of my top 10 picks ... from number 10:
As for my reviews of the films before I saw them, I did okay at guessing. Most of the time all that matched was either due to interpretation of the original synopsis or because I wrote vaguely enough that you could assume I got it right. One film, though, I got exactly right. For Crossing, I said, "Some guy dies and doesn't realize it until he meets everyone he knows in some bizarre homage to It's a Wonderful Life. Do you even care if he's really dead?" which is exactly how I'd have described it after seeing the film. Of course, I give away the reveal at the end, but in my opinion, a good movie is even better if you know how it ends. Citizen Kane and The Usual Suspects come to mind.
But enough of that ... back to me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me.
After the 11:00 show on Friday (which ended around 1) Robert Deege and Michael Turfler who—ironically enough—made Sobering (about a guy who tries to piece together what happened on a celebratory drunkfest, only to discover something really really bad ... and it's not that he's gay like I said in my pre-reviews) uhh ... where was I ... oh, ironically enough, Mike and Rob wanted to go out and hit some bar. Since Mike was staying in a house off Park Avenue, he wanted to go to Prepp's (729 Park Ave., rarely known as J. W. Prepp & Company Ltd.) Sweet mother of girls gone wild, this place is like the low-rent version of J. D. Oxford's (636 Monroe Ave.) Now, when I was younger, so much younger than today, there were a couple times I needed help staggering out of that place. However, the dot on my hand turned black a few years ago and they won't let me hang out there anymore. (Sorry to whomever's brain just fried switching references without a clutch ... clitch ... cliche ... cliché ... segue ... Applecore! Baltimore! Who's your friend? ... oops ... what's that frying smell?)
I had a good time with the mod crew consisting of Mike, Rob, their friend Kim, Lindsay Daniels (who made All That I Perceive) Stefanos Kafatos (Spikedriver) Josh Springer (All Games are Home Games: Baseball in San Quentin) Christina Spangler (Unearthed) and her friend Amy. (*sigh* Amy. She so deserves this parenthetical italic and more.) For one thing, all the people who hung out had good films so I didn't have to squirm while I made up some doublespeak lie to avoid saying anything at all.
So we got to Prepp's and got some pitchers of beer and sat down and talked for a while. We were deep in moron territory ... girls danced on tables on the brink of (but not over the brink of) taking their tops off and little yuppie wanker boys got into fights. We persevered, and were among the last to leave. The hot dog vendor beckoned from the vestibule. Jayce waxed poetic about leaving a shitty bar.
Uhh, so we went to where Mike was staying and had a couple beers and talked about other directors and movie stuff. I felt like a Hollywood socialite, albeit a complete fraud (see above) and held my own in the conversation. Everyone finally headed home around 4:30 and I had to wipe the dew off my bike seat and apply a coat of poetic wax. Oh ... sorry. I got home around 5 and couldn't sleep. A Diet Pepsi and a coffee from Starry Nites (696 University Ave., formerly Moonbeans) were administered at exactly the right moments to keep me wired beyond belief. I ended up starting laundry and getting sporadic sleep on Saturday morning. After O'Bagelo's (165 State Street) I took a nap which was unfortunately more successful ... I woke up 5 minutes into the first Saturday show of the festival. I got down there in time to see half of Tiny Magic but entirely missed Nine. Dang ... so close to perfect attendance.
So what about Amy? Well, I have this tendency to not get phone numbers from women I like. I think I figured out what goes wrong. I talked with Amy a couple times and really enjoyed doing so. (Plus, she's cute ... like really cute.) The thing is I forget that there's this sequentalness to time where tomorrow, I won't be able to see her again—it just doesn't dawn on me that in the future, the present will be the past. Oh yeah, she said that she thought I was really good at conversation which is one of those beyond-the-surface kind of insightful compliments we all look for. Oh well ... I guess all I can do is pine away waiting for Christina Spangler to do a vanity search on Google and find this page, or for Amy to look for Christina's film in the festival, or to look for her name and Christina's ... uh oh, maybe it's spelled Aimee ... or Amee or Ayme ... well, that ought to cover it. Er ... I mean, if there's supposed to be this "magic" in the world where people who belong together are supposed to get together, and we're supposed to be together, then I guess it will all happen, right?
Then again, see above.