Yesterday happened to be a long and wonderful day where I woke up bright and early and went to bed too late, but everything in between was magnifique.
I picked up some bagels for a bunch of my coworkers, 1 onion, 2 cinnamon raisin, 1 salt, 2 whole wheat everything, with regular and scallion cream cheese and butter. Brooklyn Bagel and Coffee Co. in Chelsea certainly know how to do those chewy grainy sinful pleasures, and their coffee is really good too.
The walk from the store to my job is about a mile and a half, but you know, morning walks happen to be one of my favorite things because they are relaxing get you geared up for the rest of the day. Anyway, I finished my large tasty coffee before getting into the office, but it made me jittery for about two hours. I do not often have coffee in the morning (so my body is not accustomed to the caffeine level), but do find it very enjoyable every now and then.
The day went smoothly and after work I dropped off a roll of 120 Portra 400VC at Printspace, a really great place to get your C41 developed, and got on the subway to head home.
I got off at the usual stop and was exiting through the turnstyle when this guy in his 60s started yelling at me "DON'T PUSH, DON'T PUSH!" Now, I happen to do this every day, so I feel I have a pretty good grasp on how to exit a subway station, but apparently this fellow had a problem with my methods. Truth be told, I was bewildered and said:
"But that is how it works..."
"Didn't you see I was in there?"
"But I was not pushing you."
"Don't fucking push!"
"I wasn't."
"Don't fucking do that again."
"Have a good day" - it must not have been to good to be yelling at a total stranger and I totally meant it).
"What did you fucking say?!"
"Good day to you sir!" - with a salute (maybe that was to irritate him a little).
"Just try to say that again!"
I had plans to meet up with Metal John later in the eve for dinner and catching the new Woody Allen film "Midnight in Paris", but I had some time to kill before then and decided to go into the second hand store where I almost purchased a suit that fit me perfectly for $25, but while it looked nice the material felt a bit rough, so I opted out.
On the car ride up to Hawthorne Metal John and I listened to the Screaming Trees album that I did pick up in the aforementioned store, and it was oh, so early 90s. Scott Stapp must have been listening to the album and taking notes, as Creed sounded like a lot slicker version of the band.
We dined at the Oriental Diner on some okay food, but we both surmised the Japanese restaurant near my home was far superior. I do not think we will head back to that establishment even if we are going to see a movie in Hawthorne again.
Truly, the movie was a joy. Real and surreal. Characters hilarious, yet poignant. Hemingway and Dali were real highlights of an already stellar feature.
A couple of favorite quotes:
Hemingway: It was a good book because it was an honest book, and that's what war does to men. And there's nothing fine and noble about dying in the mud unless you die gracefully. And then it's not only noble but brave.
Hemingway: No subject is terrible if the story is true and if the prose is clean and honest.
I would try to cite the ones from Dali, but I would not do the lines justice.
As I was watching the movie I was thinking to myself that this was definitely a movie I am going to need to own.
There are a ton of other reviews online, so I am only going to end my quasi-review by saying that the movie left a smile in my heart. Trite, but true.
Maybe I will go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art or the MoMA tomorrow to check out the works of some of the artists referenced in the film. It would also be a great excuse to enjoy the best brunch in Manhattan (at Lexington and 93rd).
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I must be losing it, because when I read that the man was yelling, "Don't push!" I thought he was trying to convince you not to develop your film longer than the prescribed time.
ReplyDeleteHa! "But I underexposed the roll!"
ReplyDelete