Hey there ‘Redheads… I hope everyone had a memorable Memorial Day weekend. Did you find a way to beat the heat? This was the first weekend this year that was really frickin’ hot. I have a black car…pretty much a rolling solar panel. It’s getting dangerous to keep spare change in my cup holder. I grabbed a scalding hot quarter and I felt like the bad guy in Raiders of the Lost Ark that picked up the headpiece of the Staff of Ra… y’still with me? This guy…
So, what the heck did I do this weekend? And, more to the point, why do you care? Let’s explore.
On Friday, I checked out the most recent cinematic dork milestone, X-Men: The Last Stand. How to best critique this movie? Should I wear my comic fanboy hat or my average filmgoer hat? Let’s try ’em both on. From a fanboy standpoint, the movie had a couple cool things that were fun to see translated on the screen. We finally got to see the Danger Room, a hint of a Sentinel, and the fastball special…and that was all in the first ten minutes. There was also a nice little nod/wink to the cyber-fans who churn out stuff like this. The movie also introduced a gaggle of obscure mutants from the comics that got minor moments.
On the down side, there was no Nightcrawler, no Gambit, and the movie completely wasted the coolness of Colossus, Rogue, Angel, Cyclops, Juggernaut, and the list goes on. I’ll forgive the filmmakers conveniently turning Phoenix and Juggernaut into mutants to make them easier to explain to the non-dork public. The movie itself, while visually spectacular, was a giant three-headed monster with six mouths and no eyes…very loud and had no fucking idea where it was going. Lots of sound. Lots of fury. What did it signify? X-Men 4. Yes, despite the title, this won’t the last stand for Wolverine & Co. This installment made a mint and left an opening for a fourth movie that hopefully can atone for the mediocrity this one wrought.
On Sunday, I got together with my fellow Guys Watching 24 (conveniently linked to your right…no, I will not let it go) co-stars, Chris White and Jeff King and their funny little honeys, and went to take in a ballgame. Now, I am not a fan of baseball. I find it near impossible to watch on TV. Going to a ballpark is a fun time…the peanuts ($6), the crackerjacks ($6), and, of course, the old guy in white hot pants (priceless)… You heard me. A couple of rows down and one aisle over from me and my pals, was a guy who looked like Dan Hedaya wearing white booty shorts. They were corduroy…ribbed, for our pleasure. The spectacle reached maximum hilarity during the seventh inning stretch. If the $11 admission wasn’t already a bargain, our entertainment value skyrocketed when this guy started…stretching. We were not ready for that jelly. Nothing like the bottom of a wrinkly butt cheek during “God Bless America” on Memorial Day weekend to remind you what the national pastime is really all about.
Before I go, a moment of silence for Paul Gleason. You may know him better as Principal Richard Vernon from the Breakfast Club, but to me he’ll always be Clarence Beeks from Trading Places, one of the funniest movies of all time (Bravo can take their list and shove it, by the way). Mr. Beeks, the Duke brothers thank you for your dedicated service.
To be continued…