Saturday, 7 September
Eine Kleine Nachtbloggage
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .OK, I'm afraid it's slack-cutting time again, Dear Reader. Lest you think me utterly, hopelessly lame, I did remember to get my rent in on time this month. I also remembered my father's birthday next week, and I finally remembered to get that overdue oil change. Heck, this morning I even remembered not to absent-mindedly shave the soul patch I'm trying to deliver into the world.
Unfortunately, though, it totally slipped my mind that I have a blog, and that every blog requires at least token care and feeding from time to time. Still, better late than never, or so the optimist in me would like to believe. Thus, here I am again—ready to sing, dance, and smile my way back into your good graces. I'm not even above fetching, rolling over, sitting up and begging, or whatever else it takes to ingratiate myself with you, so fire up your email program and send in those requests today.
And just what have I been up to, lo, these past two weeks, you ask? Well, lots...and not much. That is to say, I've been keeping busy, but not the kind of busy that leaves a trail strewn with tangible results. It's been what I'd call a constructive fortnight, without having been all that conspicuously productive. Actually, that pretty well sums up this summer in general, I guess, which was pleasantly low-key from start to finish. Not as exciting as some would want, I'm sure, but more than enjoyable enough to leave me with a contented grin as September unfolds, setting the stage for the fall months ahead.
Since last posting to these pages, I've been working off and on at getting a web page up for my father. It's been one of those nagging, long-gestating projects that comes along every now and then, the kind that threatens to stay stuck on perpetual hold. (For a full year it wasn't even on the back burner, having somehow fallen behind the stove, where it remained completely out of sight.) It's to be a site for his business, Armstrong Woodworks, and is shaping up as a pretty straightforward affair. Because his stock is quite limited and product availability fluctuates widely, he won't be selling directly from the site, as with a conventional e-commerce site, but instead it will serve solely as an online catalog.
Setting things up hasn't been hard, though it has proved to be a bit more time-consuming than anticipated. At least all the photos have now been taken (nearly 200, pared down to about 30), most of the images edited, and the format nailed down. At this point, basically all that's left is to work up some additional descriptive text, then assemble the whole thing and upload it. Even got my father his own domain name and hosting site for his birthday, so things really are starting to come together—at long last.
Had a very nice visit with Judy during her Labor Day break from teaching, though the visit was all too short. As it was, though, neither blast-furnace temperatures, nor serious problems with Judy's new Saturn, nor a somewhat churlish highway patrolman could mar our little get-together.
The highlight event of our visit was a trip to the Dobie Theater to see the new "Metropolis," which was every bit as impressive as we've been hearing. Thanks to Lang's obsessively dark genius, it's a great film, if greatly flawed, and the restoration is a sight to behold. (The richness of the original musical score is striking, as well.)
As a mark of the film's uniqueness, it both commands respectful awe and invites the occasional snicker, the latter thanks to often grotesquely hyper-stylized acting and a breathtakingly trite screenplay that no restoration can disguise. (If one wants a perfectly conceived and realized Lang film, the sublimely chilling "M" still stands as the greater artistic achievement—if less suited to the mythologizing that "Metropolis" has inspired.) If you have a chance to catch this definitive version of "Metropolis" while it's still in theaters, don't miss it. It's a monumental classic, if ever there was one.
Hmmm...do I detect a slight waning of interest? The faint, distant sound of yawns being stifled, perhaps? Must be time to toss a link or two your way, then, in hopes of livening things up a bit. We can't have you leaving without first giving you at least a little something that hints of substance, can we?
For starters, how about some hard-hitting, no-punches-pulled investigative journalism from our friends at the BBC? Truth be told, it's actually a feel-good story from the Beeb, with a high "warm-and-fuzzy" quotient. Tired of hearing only bad things about today's hamsters? No rampaging hooligan hamsters here, so this may be just the picker-upper you've been looking for. Then again, maybe not.
Next, lets make use of that new blender I got for my birthday, and combine a couple of links, the obligatory "What I'm Reading" schtick, and a touch of the old show-and-tell. (The links, BTW, are embedded as hot spots in the image below. Hey...it was something to do.)
Still feel like you're not getting your money's worth from A Boy & His Blog? Maybe I need to try going all angsty on you, baring my soul and airing my dirty laundry all in one fell swoop. Sort of an As the Blog Turns, perhaps. Not really being all that angst-driven, however, I'll have to work on that, I'm afraid. Nothing along those lines today, in other words. Stay tuned, though, and I'll see what I can dredge up for you in future, OK?
Alright, midnight is nigh, so it's probably time to pack it in for tonight, I suppose. I'm heading off to bed now, but feel free to hang around a while longer, if you like. You know where the chips are, and there's more beer in the fridge. Just be sure to turn out the lights when you leave...and I'll catch up with you again later. Till then—toodles!
"A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down."
— Robert Benchley
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Posted by Spiffy Knickers - 11:42 P.M.
©2002 Jerry Armstrong
