Now is the Time When the Matador Meets the Blind Shoemaker

Amy & I went out to see Talladega Nights this afternoon. It was a hoot (but no 40-Year-Old Virgin, and it featured the tallest lead cast ever, with major screen time going to Will Ferrell (6’3″), John C. Reilly (6’1″), Michael Clarke Duncan (6’5″) and Sascha Baron Cohen (6’4″). We felt that they should have added either Tim Robbins or Tom Cruise.

We bought the movies at a ticket kiosk outside the theater. A printed note was taped next to the screen on each kiosk, to let moviegoers know that the trailer for World Trade Center would be shown before The Devil Wears Prada and You, Me and Dupree. If any of you readers from outside the NYC metro area went to the movies this weekend, did you see any similar notice, or is this something that they’re just particularly sensitive about in this region?

I saw the commercial for World Trade Center a few weeks ago while I was donating at the blood center over in Linwood. I admit that I had a hard time figuring out if the clips it showed were effective movie-making or if I’m still too strongly affected by the imagery. I know it’s not exactly summertime fare, so it’s kinda odd that the studio chose to drop the film just now.

On the other hand, Amy & I were pretty happy to find out that Idlewild is coming out in a few weeks, because

a) it means that there’s a new OutKast album, and

b) it means that we can meet up with official VM buddy Mark F. and see the flick at his local theater: the Magic Johnson Theater up in Harlem!

There’s also Little Miss Sunshine, Borat and Jackass 2 to see, so I might actually get out to the movies a few times before the end of the year! In the last few years, I’ve gone to fewer and fewer flicks, largely because I can’t be bothered. But Amy’s a good influence on me, getting me out to see important films with moments like this one.

In other news, my brother, his wife and their two daughters are in town for a week. We’re all planning to go down to the shore for a day. This time, I’ll remember to bring my camera to the boardwalk (and I’ll buy some goofy T-shirts, Tina). We picnicked up in a botanical garden on Saturday, and I got to tell the kids (6 and 3) outrageous lies about The Hunchback of Skylands Manor and The Slav in the Iron Mask. They love me.

I’m also battling a milder case of poison ivy than the one I got hit with around Memorial Day. I spent Friday afternoon with My Pal The Chainsaw, taking down some of the dead and decaying trees in the yard. While I did wear long sleeves and long pants, I managed to get a little of the evil stuff on my forearms, an inch or so above the wrists.

This pisses me off greatly, since it now means I’m going to have to get a biohazard suit for the next time I go out to clear more of the yard. Or I can hire some landscapers, warn ’em about the poison ivy, and let them take care of things.