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Liz and I met for lunch last Sunday afternoon (2/26) before
heading into the city to catch a movie. The Malibu Diner in
Hoboken is a favorite spot for 4:00 AM drunken munchies and
10:00 AM hangover omelets. However, upon having to send my
grilled cheese back three times because the cheese was not
melted, and Liz getting a very lame looking Souvlaki, it is
apparent that the mystique wears away with sobriety. Oh, and
my soup was cold too.
After this let down of a meal, we hopped the bus to the city.
We were going to see the new Neil Young movie 'Heart of Gold'.
I was haunted by a nagging cough since the night before. This
is really nothing new, but it was still annoying. So I loaded
myself up with cough drops and water so as to not bother anyone
else in the theater. After the many quizzes, quotes, commercials
and trailers came the movie. At first it looked promising but
then...
Now I love Neil Young. Unfortunately this film does not do
him justice. Sure it started out with a few cool interviews
which gave us some insight on his life, the aneurysm that
nearly killed him and the death of his father. I had hoped
these would pepper the film. Instead it went straight into
a performance of his entire new album.
Don't get me wrong, these are sweet, decent enough songs,
but we felt as though we had just paid to watch a very, very
long music video. And, unlike his past efforts, the overall
direction of this was way lame. We expected more from
both Young and director Jonathan Demme. What I'm sure was meant
to be abscure angles and artsy plays with focus came across
as poor camera work. The time came for us to pull a stunt neither
of us had done since high school. Sneak into another movie.
Nothing of interest on the floor we were on at the Loews on
42nd street. So we shrugged and were going to leave until Liz
noticed that when we got to the next level, we were already
behind the ticket taker. So we walked as if we were going to
the bathroom, saw that the Matador was about to start in one
of the theaters and simply walked in. That was too easy. Too
bad we left the popcorn in the other theater, but Liz went
and got Twizzlers and all was better.
The Matador was a pisser and ultimately made both Liz and I
feel a lot better about paying for the Neil Young disaster.
Pierce Brosnan and Greg Kinnear make a good team with a believable,
easy comic chemistry. Plus, it really, really makes you want
margaritas. Watch it, you'll see. Luckily there is a Chevy's
attached to the theater where we were. So we went in to have
a couple of drinks. Even before drinking I was already feeling
light headed with what would later prove to be the onset of
a fever. A fever that would hit 102 for several days and would
explain my lack of all activity other than sweating and sleeping
from Sunday night thru early this morning.
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