The King of Pointland

Splendor

"What," I can hear you asking, "have you been up to, David?"

I've been away, my friends, in scenic South-central New Jersey. My parents live there, and sometimes I visit them, as I did this Sunday, for Yom Kippur. There were highs, and lows, and in-betweens. I won't bore you with the details. Summary: I ate and drank a lot. Then I ate and drank nothing. Then, I ate and drank a lot. And the praying, and the atoning, too.

Days before my journey to that magical land, I visited another wonderful place, a place I like to call Washington, D.C., where I had Ethiopian food at Meskerem with my good friend Jess. What follows is a shout-out to Jess: "Jess in the hizzouse, yo."

It's funny when I try to be hip.

On Saturday I saw a movie, American Splendor, and it gets the Palm d'David prize for the month of October, probably.

In a world where comic books are the domain of superheroes, supervillains, and people with artistic talent, one man will break all the rules. This autumn, HBO Films proudly presents the story of Harvey Pekar, a Cleveland file clerk who chronicles his mundane existence in the underground cult classic comic "American Splendor". Part drama and part documentary, this genre breaking movie is sure to make you laugh, make you cry, and often make you watch appreciatively without laughing or crying. Critics agree: "American Splendor is good." "American Splendor is nice." "American Splendor is a movie that is a good movie."

In all seriousness, I really enjoyed this one. Paul Giamatti shines, and, in it's own way, so does the dirty, grimy Cleveland of the 70's and 80's depicted in the film. Perhaps I'm a nut, but I find dingy urban blight strangely beautiful. And let's face it: I'm nostalgic for anything set in the 70's. It's a time I remember, and remember fondly, but barely.

Of course, there are the obvious comparisons to be made between the comic American Splendor, in which Pekar shares his day-to-day travails, and a blog such as this. Except that the comic has art. And it's good.

Saturday night, thanks to Goat, I saw Remember Shakti at Lisner audotorium. Hot mamma these cats can play. At one point I nearly hallucinated, and I wasn't using drugs.

So that's what I've been up to.

Posted by cradle at October 8, 2003 07:21 PM