In Atlanta, you spend a lot of your time walking across parking lots. I'd forgotten this.
This book I'm reading, it's long. It's been a while since I read a book that I wasn't impatient with. Sometimes with long books you just hunker down and settle in for a long commitment. Also, a lot of books I've read recently are written so cinematically, you know. They get wrapped up in a lot of play-by-play action, and I think, yes, this is a set piece and it works as a whole if I take the effort to visualize it, but reading it is actually pretty tedious. This book, I don't know, it tells more than it shows, which breaks Mr. Hadorn's A-#1 Rule of Screenwriting (#2 Rule: Watch 48 Hours and Learn a Thing or Two about Making a Movie), or really it fits its medium more comfortably than most post-modern novels. What I'm saying is, it's old-fashioned.
For over a month now my laptop has been broken. I haven't gotten it fixed yet because Dell doesn't know that I've moved. It's not like I'm feeling very liberated from personal computing, either. Instead I'm becoming a laptop mooch, drifting from port to port feeding my addiction with every drop of wireless signal I can hustle. I'm using my mom's right now.
I'm watching The Sting with my parents the other night, and my dad says, "Why don't they make movies like this anymore?" And I thought, well, I think they do. We just have to sift through a lot of crap before we can find them. I saw The Illusionist last month, and got a mondo kick out of it, the same way you might get a mondo kick out of The Sting.
Driving to Georgia last month we stopped at an Arby's near Dalton (that's the carpet capital for you of the ignorant, please respect it), and I was talking on the phone with Kristen when the Arby's counter girl yelled out my order to be picked up. I came up to the counter and did my little "that's me" wave, and when she saw I was on the phone she got embarrassed and whispered "Sorrrryyy!" I mouthed "that's OK" and then when I was walking away with it she shouted after me, "DEW YEW WANT ANY SAUCE WITH THAAAT??"
This book I'm reading, it's long. It's been a while since I read a book that I wasn't impatient with. Sometimes with long books you just hunker down and settle in for a long commitment. Also, a lot of books I've read recently are written so cinematically, you know. They get wrapped up in a lot of play-by-play action, and I think, yes, this is a set piece and it works as a whole if I take the effort to visualize it, but reading it is actually pretty tedious. This book, I don't know, it tells more than it shows, which breaks Mr. Hadorn's A-#1 Rule of Screenwriting (#2 Rule: Watch 48 Hours and Learn a Thing or Two about Making a Movie), or really it fits its medium more comfortably than most post-modern novels. What I'm saying is, it's old-fashioned.
For over a month now my laptop has been broken. I haven't gotten it fixed yet because Dell doesn't know that I've moved. It's not like I'm feeling very liberated from personal computing, either. Instead I'm becoming a laptop mooch, drifting from port to port feeding my addiction with every drop of wireless signal I can hustle. I'm using my mom's right now.
I'm watching The Sting with my parents the other night, and my dad says, "Why don't they make movies like this anymore?" And I thought, well, I think they do. We just have to sift through a lot of crap before we can find them. I saw The Illusionist last month, and got a mondo kick out of it, the same way you might get a mondo kick out of The Sting.
Driving to Georgia last month we stopped at an Arby's near Dalton (that's the carpet capital for you of the ignorant, please respect it), and I was talking on the phone with Kristen when the Arby's counter girl yelled out my order to be picked up. I came up to the counter and did my little "that's me" wave, and when she saw I was on the phone she got embarrassed and whispered "Sorrrryyy!" I mouthed "that's OK" and then when I was walking away with it she shouted after me, "DEW YEW WANT ANY SAUCE WITH THAAAT??"
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