I didn't tell you so, but...

I admit that I am an idiot when it comes to Oscar night, but I'm blogging about it anyway.

A few years ago -- whichever year Gladiator was the big flick -- I attended an Oscar party. The hostess had printed ballots, and the attendees had a little contest to see who could correctly pick the most winners. Boss came in first, and had seen almost all of the films. I came in second, and had seen none of the films.

It should come as no surprise, then, that I accurately predicted most of the big winners last night. (I probably should have addressed this matter in this space yesterday morning, but, you see, the point is that I didn't really care.) One rule of thumb appears to be that if the backstory about a film is substantial enough to make it all the way to me -- a fellow who spends most of his entertainment dollars on records and rock shows, not at the cinema -- that's usually enough to push it over the top on Oscar night. Hilary Swank's diet and biceps? That's enough. And after all that gushy talk about Clint sitting right there, it seemed like he and his movie just had to win the big ones at the end.

I didn't see Ray, but I saw the commercial for it, and that means I knew Jamie Foxx was very, very convincing as one of my musical heroes. (How wonderful that Ray's Web site has a personal message from him in the present tense, just a few short months after his death.) Compared with, say, Leonardo DiCaprio as Howard Hughes, who may very well act decently enough but still looks like some kid in a fake beard, you knew Foxx would win an a walk. I'd like to see Hotel Rwanda, and I heard Don Cheadle was great in it, but you knew that too few Academy members had, uh, made time for that one.

One more thing: It was a treat to watch the Oscars with an actual winner in the room -- or at least, a direct employee of a winner.

Anyway RustedRobot gives a superior rundown of the proceedings -- and I'll bet he actually saw some of the movies that received awards, too.


Now playing: Coleman Hawkins & Roy Eldridge onstage together at Newport, Fourth of July 1957

Windshield wipers slapping time

"It was going just enough to have the wipers going on intermittent. I thought, `How appropriate,'" Kearns' daughter, Maureen Kearns, told the Detroit Free Press for a story published Friday.


Now playing: "The Real Slim Shady" by Eminem (917-776-7643), then Ben Webster's "Honeysuckle Rose" and Spoon's "Jonathon Fisk"

Unhappy cows

It was bad enough that California's dairy cows were the subject of a lawsuit alleging that it was a crime to call them "happy." Now, they're washing away in soaked piles of mud and manure.

I drove past the hideous (and aromatic) feedlot on Interstate 5, known colloquially as "Cowschwitz", earlier this week. Wonder how those thousands of cattle are faring, although they're many miles north of the worst of the storm. The ones that are still alive, anyway.

None of this keeps me from wanting a cheese steak this afternoon, however.


Now playing: Pavement's "Newark Wilder," followed by Lester Young's "I'm Confessin'" and Ellington's "Concerto for Cootie"

"I don't know, what are the hours?"

So Rob Reiner is emerging as the Democratic challenger to Arnold Schwarzenegger in the 2006 California gubernatorial election. Some may think of Reiner as Meathead, but I prefer to think of him as documentarian Marty DeBergi.

Part of me is happy to see that traditional politicians haven't always won elections in recent times. Those familiar with the intricacies of inside dealmaking, logrolling and The Way Things Have Always Been Done are now on the defensive, which could be a good thing. Jesse Ventura's election in Minnesota in 1998 seemed to signal that people were tired of the same old arguments, and Schwarzenegger's election in Ka-lee-fornia was a sign that people didn't mind his inexperience as long as he promised what they wanted.

But it's frightening to me that the leading candidates next year could be two Hollywood actors. Traditional politicians could be forced into the third-party-spoiler role. It's enough to make you... uh, I dunno, get in a boat and sail around the world?


Now playing: The Capitol Years' "Mounds of Money," Charlie Parker's "No Noise," and Count Basie's "Jumpin' At The Woodside"

Old Black's my truck's name

Now this is sensible.

It's good to know that in times of war, consumers are being urged to sacrifice a little. Especially in the area of fuel mileage.


Now playing: Doug Sahm's wonderful twin-fiddle version of "Is Anybody Going To San Antone," followed by Nico singing "I'll Be Your Mirror" with the Velvets, and then the Burritos' "Hot Burrito No. 1." Chris Hillman's bass playing is terrific.

She hangs brightly

Updating a tale told in a previous post, it seems that the local rock band determined to play Libya got its wish, but not before at least one threat of death by hanging.


Music now playing: Charlie Parker's classic version of "A Night In Tunisia." No, really.

Trouble on the line

How embarrassing for Mayor Newsom that his phone number was among those found in Paris Hilton's Blackberry.

Hmm, and the San Francisco Hilton is in there too.

I'm not saying anything, I'm just saying.


Music now playing: Camper Van Beethoven's "Heart," and the Nat King Cole Trio's "Little Girl"

Live: The Road

After a long drive, it takes a little while to feel like your insides are no longer going 75 miles an hour. Mine were going roughly that fast for most of today as I drove from Los Angeles to San Francisco. The Mazda had me worried -- the left rear brake rotor is probably ruined, and it wasn't an easy start this morning -- but I'm now warm, dry, and in one piece, and I guess the car is all right for the moment.

The morning's near-zero-visibility gave way to stunning blue skyscapes as I descended the Grapevine. The whole weather system revealed itself at once, with the storm caught in the mountains toward the Coast as the Valley opened up in front of me. My lunch break in sad little Kettleman City was bathed in sunlight. It didn't last forever, as I caught more rain as I sped toward tornado-stricken Sacramento, but I'm thankful that at least some portion of my eight-hour ride was somewhat dry, after the frightful scene in Los Angeles.

In both directions, time seemed to pass more quickly than usual, despite the ghastly weather. I credit the iTrip, which cost $35 in Gilroy and transformed the iPod into the best FM radio station ever.


Music now playing: The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society, which I had somehow not recognized as a great thing until recently

Think I'll pack it in

...and take it down to L.A.

Back next week.


Music now playing: Nils Lofgren's first solo album

Gates of Eden

The best view yet of The Gates in Central Park, and (when you click to view the full image) one of the coolest views of NYC I've ever seen.


Music now playing: The Beach Boys' "Wouldn't It Be Nice," the Flying Burrito Bros.' "Dim Lights," and Howlin' Wolf's "Smokestack Lightnin'"

The news from 45th Avenue

How could you not love a news story with the subheadline, "Restored icon bolted firmly to median strip"? Reminds me of the Onion's famous Christopher Reeve story.

This is happy news. I'd been wondering where that poor fella was.


Music now playing: The Gourds' "Ghosts of Hallelujah" and "Clear Night"

A place to stay, enough to eat

I have to admit that I doubt that San Francisco's homeless population has really fallen by 28%, and that the number living on the streets has fallen by 41%. Honestly, I doubt that anyone would have even guessed that 41% figure prior to this report. [UPDATE: The morning paper includes this story.]

People are disputing the count because apparently it does not include a population living in City parks. It's not clear in the linked article whether the park-dwellers were adequately counted in the previous tally two years ago, however.

I think many people here would like to believe that Care Not Cash is a failure, but it seems undeniable that it is reducing the number of homeless in the City. (Out of towners: A couple of elections ago, San Francisco voters approved a measure backed by soon-to-be-Mayor Newsom that replaced most of the City's monthly $400 cash handouts to homeless people with additional supportive housing services intended to get people off the streets. The measure itself was partially struck down in the courts, but with Newsom's election 14 months ago much of CNC is back in action.)

Whether circumstances are actually better for homeless people, however, no one knows. Have they merely gone somewhere else? (How's Berkeley looking these days?)


Music now playing: Gram Parsons' regretful "How Much I've Lied," and the solo version of "April in Paris" from the Thelonious Himself album

Grammy Hall

I watched the Grammys. I recall some credible performances last year, and for that reason I'd begun to shake the feeling that this annual awards program is utterly ridiculous. (To paraphrase Woody Allen in Annie Hall: “They give an award for everything these days. Best fascist dictator: Adolf Hitler!”) Many of the honorees are terrible. Alicia Keys won a bunch of them a couple of years ago, and she has committed atrocities that are – well, maybe not on the level of Hitler, but they are certainly pop atrocities.

There was an opening sequence in which a bunch of artists essayed roughly eighty seconds of each of their hit songs, stitched together by sections of the Black Eyed Peas’ already-reworked “Let’s Get It Started.” Gwen Stefani and Eve sashayed and nodded to a Zero Mostel tune (!), Maroon Five played a portion of something I am embarrassed to say I know is called “This Love,” and Franz Ferdinand did their thing that combines early Gang of Four with Frankie Goes To Hollywood. The shark was jumped when everyone sang together at the big finish: all the choruses of all their hits at the same time.

In their way, the Grammy people have just acknowledged the mash-up. The underground mix artist has been generally avoided (if not actively prosecuted) by the RIAA and NARA for some time, although Jay-Z and Linkin Park did try to make a "legitimate" mash-up. But now, a full four years after Eminem and Britney Spears simultaneously invaded my hard drive with “Oops! The Real Slim Shady Did It Again,” and perhaps a week after the Village Voice 2005 critics’ poll ranked The Grey Album #10, the Big Industry has finally acknowledged that two songs being played at the same time can constitute art, or at least pop art. Interesting how an advertisement that ran a little while later included two car radios playing at the same time, mashing up Donna Summer's “Hot Stuff” with a song I’m apparently too old to recognize.

I guess that the same could apply to the boiling-down of both country music and Southern Rock to an eight-minute distillation of the Allmans, Gretchen Wilson and two Skynyrd songs. Whoo! Yes, they managed to fit “Ramblin’ Man” and “Sweet Home Alabama” and “Freebird” – plus a current big-hit artist worthy of thirteen of CBS’s ’60 Minutes’ a couple of weeks ago – into a couple of minutes. (And they did it without mashing them up.) Thanks, Nashville and the rest of the South, for playing. We’re going back to Usher or whoever now. You don’t stand a chance for the regular awards. [UPDATE: I understand Usher is actually from the South -- specifically, Dallas and Chattanooga. My mistake. But the idea that the country music people were bound to dwell in the margins of this year's Grammys is still true, I think.]

All this was preceded by towheaded nonentity Keith Urban briefly essaying Elvin Bishop’s 70s chestnut “Fooled Around and Fell In Love,” with Bishop on the stage playing guitar with a glass slide. No mention of the disastrous events in Bishop’s family a couple of years ago, which included mass murder, cults, witchcraft, the Playmate of the Month and human dismemberment.

Queen Latifah’s jazz number: Surprisingly pleasant voice. She ultimately was not convincing as a singer of standards, but she did put in a valiant effort. I get the feeling that she hasn’t genuinely been interested in new hip-hop records for several years.

Those guys in Hoobastank are total choads. And they just gave the “Best New Artist” award to Maroon 5, who obviously thought Kanye West deserved it.

Quentin Tarantino? What’s he doing here? Introducing Green Day, of course. (What, no lifetime achievement award for Stealers’ Wheel?) Green Day absolutely killed onstage. The video crew made sure they caught the words “redneck agenda” on camera too, although I must have missed “faggot America.” Moments later, Alicia Keys thanked God and shined her dim light. The elevator, it’s been said, does not stop at all the floors. At a certain elevation….

Anyway Kanye West did deliver his puzzling goods in the midst of a gospel-oriented segment begun by the Staples Singers. And then he got his award for Best Rap Album, unsurprisingly, although perhaps the biggest surprise was that he didn’t win much of anything else. And then he delivered the worst acceptance speech in history.

Joss Stone is one of the best karaoke singers ever. Melissa Etheridge is definitely the best bald one ever. Alicia Keys? She managed to turn a posthumous Ray Charles tribute (“Georgia On My Mind”) into an exhibition of self-love, just like she did with her necro-duet with Ray at the Super Bowl. Tasteless, really.

Charles appeared to win only two Grammys during the program, although I understand he won a total of eight. In the end, it may seem embarrassing that his duets record will be his Grammy-winning legacy (though I imagine Brother Ray won a few others during his life too). I mean, when I think of Frank Sinatra, I don’t think of him singing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” with Bono. But I’ll take it – Starbucks connection and all. My roommate thought Green Day was robbed.

There must have been more, but I was either messing with the fireplace or making food or not paying attention. I guess I half-remember the group hug for tsunami relief, but I’m trying to forget about it. Thank goodness they only do this once a year.


Music now playing: Big Star's "Back of A Car." Moments later, one of iTunes' best transitions ever: The Gourds' "Magnolia" (Stadium Blitzer version) into the Stones' "Casino Boogie"

The sounds of science

McSweeney's weighs in on how she could've done it.


Music now playing: Nils Lofgren's audacious guitar leads, splashed all over Grin's "Love or Else"

More real things

Here's another...

I love the way the green and red stoplights of Great Highway look from way above.


Music now playing: Mozart's "Jupiter" symphony

The real thing

Perhaps you will enjoy this photo of the real View from Fort Miley, as seen at sundown on January 25.


Music now playing: Mozart's 40th symphony

A friend came around, tried to clean up this town

I wonder if Mayor Newsom's anti-litter initiative renders redundant the no-smoking-in-the-parks rule. The rationale for that, as Supervisor Alioto-Pier stressed, was concern that children were picking up cigarette butts and putting them in their mouths. Secondhand smoke, outdoors? Get real.

Mayor Newsom, if you're reading (instead of preparing for this weekend's party), memo to your people: Every day people are feeding pigeons in front of Walgreen's on Point Lobos and 43rd Avenue.


Song now playing: Jimmy Smith's "The Sermon." R.I.P.

Lawyers, guns and money

It's a sad day for consumer watchdogs everywhere. By shifting many types of class-actions from state to Federal courts, legislators have made it far more difficult for consumer organizations to fight corporate malfeasance. Bush says it's all about frivolous litigation that lines the pockets of trial lawyers, but it seems more likely to reduce ordinary citizens' chances of standing up to Big Tobacco et al. What was that about the baby and the bathwater?

DiFi voted yes. 26 Dems voted no.


Songs now playing: Yo La Tengo's spacey version of "Today Is The Day," and X's scrambling "We're Desperate"

Adaptation, part two (or, Adaptation and the Temple of Doom)

A few more notes, because I can't stop thinking about Raiders of the Lost Ark: The Adaptation:

*These kids made or obtained costumes from thrift stores, borrowed a Bentley (or Rolls?) from a local dealer or collector or something, and appeared to have made quite a number of sets and props from whatever was lying around. I loved the moment when Indy is climbing out of the snakepit, the "rocks" collapse and you can see some kid's basement stairs in the background.

*The sound quality is abysmal, and the color palette is usually very, very limited. I don't care.

*The girl who played Marian is pretty good. Maybe not a pro, but probably the best that the high-school drama club had to offer. It does appear she had acted before. Nice haircut too. She had a lot of screen time -- maybe two summers' worth of work with these kids.

*The notion that an alley in Biloxi could serve as a street in Cairo is highly amusing to me.

As a kid, I definitely remember getting together with neighborhood kids to put on shows for our parents and friends. We had a little band in junior high and high school, and we made records on tape machines. To me, Raiders: The Adaptation is sort of the apotheosis of filmmaking in kid-land, when creativity comes from sheer boredom, when we make things just to satisfy ourselves. These kids made a movie primarily because they wanted to see it, and they wanted to see themselves in it. I know the feeling.

In response to Jordan's query below: I couldn't find any official or even unofficial Web site for The Adaptation, and I have no idea whether you can download any portion of it (apart from the trailer). I suspect it will be back, though, for another nonprofit screening -- it was just too damn popular. I hear that the Saturday show sold out.

In a related note, I understand that Christopher Guest once received a videocassette of a family's production of Red, White & Blaine.


Songs now playing: Wilco's "More Like The Moon," and Wilson Pickett's "634-5789"

Adaptation

How can I even begin to discuss the fabulousness of Raiders of the Lost Ark: The Adaptation? Especially when seen at a small screening, with the filmmakers present?

This film is way better than it had to be. I probably would've been thoroughly entertained if the sets and costumes were half as good as they were. I don't mean to say that they were convincing, but they were far more ambitious than what I expected. (There was, I admit, a moment when I briefly thought we were in Cairo. No, really.)

Having not seen the "real" Raiders in at least five years, I had a fairly fuzzy memory of the story. Certain shots are unforgettable -- the hand with the medallion's runes burned into it, the rolling boulder, the melting face -- but, for example, I didn't quite remember how the truck scene ends up. And this is where the big surprise came in for me: Raiders: The Adaptation is genuinely suspenseful.

These kids did some really dangerous things while filming. There is a substantial amount of real fire, including a shot of a truck with a well-fed chemical fire in its bed. I'm pretty sure someone places a flaming torch in his mouth at one point too. One kid is dragged by, and possibly beneath, a truck; he also appears to jump onto a moving vehicle.

A few things I learned during the filmmakers' Q&A session after the screening:

*The film was shot on a Betamax camera, and eventually edited at a local TV studio.

*People age four years -- an eternity in one's teens -- in reaction shots.

*The filmmakers have to screen The Adaptation for charity or for educational purposes. They can't make money off it.

Anyway people loved it. The crowd of about 200 people erupted in applause and cheers about a dozen times during the screening.


Songs now playing: The Meat Puppets' gentle "Up On The Sun," and Coleman Hawkins' "On The Sunny Side of the Street"

Spin doctor

Wonder why Jose Canseco's publicist waited until a few minutes before the kickoff of the Super Bowl to announce that the slugger's new book will include tales of McGwire and Giambi shooting steroids together in the bowels of the Coliseum.

Surely there is a strategy at work, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it is. Baseball news during football mania? A vain attempt to appear respectful while spewing forth tell-all trash? Don't get it.


Song now playing: Spoon's "I Didn't Come Here to Die"

And I want my money now

Fines and prison won't be enough. I want restitution. (Not that I'm holding my breath.)


"This is going to be a word-of-mouth kind of thing," Mr. Williams says on the tape. "We want you guys to get a little creative and come up with a reason to go down." After agreeing to take the plant down, the Nevada official questioned the reason. "O.K., so we're just coming down for some maintenance, like a forced outage type of thing?" Rich asks. "And that's cool?"

"Hopefully," Mr. Williams says, before both men laugh.


I also wish my roommate at the time didn't sit around with his shirt off and a 1500-watt space heater blasting, with his windows and doors open for cross-ventilation. "I wanted to be comfortable," he'd say. He voted Green.


Song now playing: Steely Dan's "Doctor Wu"

A match made in hell

"I never would have thought someone would have used this for dating or for soliciting people," said Santa Clara County prosecutor Steve Fein.


Song now playing: Pernice Brothers' "The Weakest Shade of Blue"

The Choice is yours, don't be late

This is astounding. I admit that he deserves something, but five percent of the profits? One twentieth of the take from every sale, just for having your picture on the label?

Considering the income of people who spend their lives growing coffee beans, it sure seems like a travesty.


Song now playing: Elvis Costello & The Attractions' "You Belong To Me," from the Live At El Mocambo CD.

Tomb raiders

I don't think I can resist attending this film. I can't decide whether it's going to be better or worse than I imagine it to be. (That doesn't make any sense at all, does it?)

More here, here, here and here.


Songs now playing: Wilco's "A Magazine Called Sunset," followed (interestingly enough) by Duke Ellington's "Dusk." Thanks, iTunes.

Giant steps

I'd like to have one of these in my front yard.

If I had a front yard.


Song now playing: Charles Mingus' "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat"

Sad situation

What a terrible state of affairs. Nepal gets pushed back toward the 18th century -- an absolute monarch, no phones or other communications allowed -- as armored tanks roll in the streets.

No wonder everyone's going to Bhutan instead. Except the smokers, of course.


Songs now playing: Thelonious Monk's deliberate version of "I Let A Song Go Out Of My Heart," and the New York Dolls' over-the-top, hard-charging "Personality Crisis"

So long, it's been good to know you

Thanks to Matt for his thoughtful remarks on Sammy Sosa's ugly departure from Chicago.

Hope the Cubs enjoy the bag of peanut shells they got in return for their slugger. Oh my.


Songs now playing: The Byrds' version of "Deportee (Plane Wreck At Los Gatos)" (originally by Woody Guthrie, who also wrote the song that gives this post its title) and X's "In This House That I Call Home"

You take the gold, I'll take the forest

I spent last evening curled up on one of the benches at the Red Vic watching Monumental, a film about David Brower and his lifelong battle to keep American wilderness alive and stop development in crucial areas.

The Red Vic's description of the film leaves out the fact that about half the film consists of Brower's own home movies, dating back to the mid-1930s. A few minutes into the film, you see Brower and a few friends scaling New Mexico's Shiprock in full color, in 1938-vintage 16mm. (They're all wearing sneakers!) Later, you see Brower's film of Glen Canyon before it was dammed. Wow.

I understand that Monumental's director is not yet 30 years old. The budget is low, and some of the interview sequences are awkward. Still, the commentary from Brower's friends and rivals is enlightening, though not nearly as compelling as Brower's own footage.

Curiously, the film also leaves out a few key pieces of information, the biggest being that Brower actually had enough votes to block the Glen Canyon Dam's congressional approval but mistakenly capitulated anyway. And although longtime Bureau of Reclamation chief and dam advocate Floyd Dominy is in the film (referred to as a "clown" by one Brower colleague), Monumental makes no mention of the fact that Brower and Dominy once famously ran the Colorado's rapids in the Grand Canyon together -- with a couple of bottles of Jim Beam and some beers, no less.

I'm still deciding whether the indie-rock soundtrack, featuring Beachwood Sparks, the Fruit Bats and Yo La Tengo, really worked for me. I mean, nothing says "rugged outdoorsman" like a band of junkies from L.A. (or Ira Kaplan, for that matter), but the instrumentals in particular seemed like they were chosen wisely enough.


Songs now playing: Martha & The Vandellas' "(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave," then Van Morrison's "Caravan," both of which get five stars in my iTunes