Tag Archives: Movies

Never Too Late

“Doing nothing often leads to the very best kind of something.”

  • Winnie The Pooh

This past weekend was quite a good one for me.  I did a lot of nothing.  If you know me in the real world, you know that this is nothing new.  However, with that said, this was a different kind of nothing for me.  I made it a movie and relaxing weekend.  I rented 4 movies from one of my trusty area Redbox locations and after some dinner, cleaning, and organizing, I got on with the show.  I had such a mixed bag of films.  Action, Superhero, and even a kid flick were the ones I chose.  I was going to try to watch all 4 on Friday, but seeing as I started the films late on Friday night, I knew I wouldn’t last. 

To be quite honest, it all worked out for the better for me.  Saturday morning brought along Sicario:  Day of the Soldado, a breakfast and few phone calls from family break, then finally Christopher Robin.  I don’t know if I’m one of the last ones to see this film, but I can’t recommend it enough.  I’ll admit that I’m the worst now about going out to the pictureshows to see films there and part of me is sad that I didn’t see this one at one, but also I’m glad I waited to see it in the comfort of my flat because it got a lil’ dusty in there for a second.  Let me explain and try to make it as non-spoilery as possible.  The premise of this film was that after holding one last party with the group in Hundred-Acre Wood, Christopher Robin goes to boarding school, grows up, meets his wife, they have a kiddo, and we catch up with them 30 years after the farewell party to find Christopher Robin in a job that takes up all of his time which makes him sad and absent as a husband and father.  Enter a day in Hundred Acre Wood where Pooh, after not being able to find the rest of the group, stands at the door in the tree where Christopher Robin would come through, and missing him dearly, walks through the door after it opens for him.  Hilarity ensues after that with a lot of super cute and heartwarming moments, but the one that suckerpunched me right in the feels was this one, and I’ll warn you of spoilers now.  Skip the next paragraph if you don’t wanna know it!

 So, Christopher Robin and Pooh go back through the tree in Sussex to Hundred Acre Wood so that Christopher Robin can drop Pooh off with the rest of the group and he can get back to doing the work he needed to do.  Of course Pooh gets them going in a circle and Christopher Robin gets angry at him and tells him to just go away (in so many words) and suddenly Pooh disappears.  Christopher Robin then goes looking for him and ends up finding the Eeyore going down a stream accepting his fate as the end of his life but also mistaking the grown up Christopher Robin for a heffalump.  Christopher Robin rescues Eeyore then ends up finding the rest of the group hiding in a tree stump because the noise that a wind direction thingy (you know what I’m talking about!) makes them think that a woozle and a heffalump are out to destroy them.  After finding them in said tree stump, he had to convince them that he was indeed Christopher Robin by defeating the imaginary heffalump a ways away where Owl can only see a bit of the action and Rabbit can hear what’s going on.  Eeyore knows it’s fake all along but goes along with knowing that it really is Christopher Robin in front of him and once the imaginary heffalump is defeated the group all comes out of hiding and they all embrace him and they go out to find Pooh.  In a moment of clarity, Christopher Robin remembers exactly where to find him, which is the tree branch that serves as a bench where they would always talk.  Well, holy smokes, they get there and as soon as Christopher Robin sees the red balloon that Pooh asked Christopher Robin to buy him at the train station in London, they knew that he was found.  Oh man.  I just about lost it then.  I really don’t know why.  Even thinking about it now gets me emotional.  I think it’s because since Christopher Robin was so mean to Pooh for wasting their time going in a circle when Christopher Robin had his adult things to do instead of play and to know that Pooh was there at the fallen tree branch where he would normally be to wait for him… seeing that act of forgiveness by actions alone just melted my heart.  Even the next lines got me right in the feels even worse than that!

“Christopher Robin: Hello Pooh.

Winnie the Pooh: Hello Christopher Robin.

Christopher Robin: I’m sorry Pooh. I’m so terribly sorry. I should never had shouted at you.

Winnie The Pooh: Well I am a bear of very little brain.

Christopher Robin: No Pooh. You are I think a bear of very big heart.”

Oh man.  It took all I could to not hit pause on remote control and just let myself lose it there.  Seriously.  Here was Christopher Robin’s best friend taking blame for something that Christopher Robin did himself!  He didn’t need to do that.  He took it and didn’t even think twice of it.  He was just happy to have his best friend back.  Holy smokes.  Waterworks time!  Now, I’ll say that it’s hitting me in the feels not because I’m an unforgiving person.  I’m the exact opposite.  The thing that got me was that no matter that 30 years past and Christopher Robin all but forgot about all of his friends in the Hundred Acre Wood, his friends didn’t.  They thought about him every day that he was gone.  They greeted him with open arms like the prodigal son parable that Jesus Christ talked about.  It didn’t matter what had happened in the past, who was thought of and who wasn’t.  What mattered was right then and there.  That was part of it for me.  The other big part that just hit me like a million tons of bricks was that I’ve forgotten how to play too in the recent years.  I don’t know why, but I have.  Maybe I thought that it’s just not something that adults should do.  We should be grown-ups!  There’s no time to play!  There’s only time for work, and being responsible, or being stupid and partying too hard, but absolutely no time to just play.  Doing nothing and seeing where it leads you… none of that.  None of that has happened lately.  It’s gotten so bad for me that I haven’t really played with my nephews much lately and the thought of the young one desperate to  play with me and me engaging but not engaging as much as I should and the guilt that brought seeing what was just happening in the movie almost broke me.  I have become the grown up Christopher Robin!  It’s all about being responsible now.  I’m trying to get to the gym, keep my flat spotless, do laundry, visit and take care of my grandparents, and keep my bills current and that doesn’t give me time or the attitude to just play with my nephews when I see them, or to just go out on a Saturday and do something fun for fun’s sake.  I’m too busy trying to recharge my batteries from having such a busy Monday through Friday schedule that even when I think I’m having fun I’m really not.  It’s like I’m putting the proverbial small Band-Aid on a gaping wound that really isn’t helping much. 

What am I going to do about it?  I’m going to enjoy the free moments in my life now.  I’m going to play with my nephews when they ask me to.  I’m going to try to take the upcoming Saturdays and try and see where they take me when I plan to do nothing.  I’ve already started on it, as I saw the kiddos yesterday and I was eager to play with them.  It was so heartwarming.  As soon as they got to my old man’s house, the little one immediately pulled out his toys and decided right then and there to give me one.  I have no idea why, but he did and I gladly took it.  We played a bit with all of his other toys, and once we started playing a game on his tablet, I tried my best to catch up with my older nephew who was playing the same game but was levels ahead of us.  It was awesome.  These kids are like the Pooh to my Christopher Robin.  It doesn’t matter to them that tío David plays a bit with them every now and again and acknowledges them; they get excited every time they see me.  I’ve never lost the love for them at all, and I would do everything within my power for them, but I’ve been absent as a playmate because I’ve been too damn busy adulting.  I’m going to make an effort to not do that anymore.  We’re gonna play again from now on until the teen years happen, which for one of them is right around the corner and the other is about 8 years away.  Then I suppose I can start to adult again.  By then I’ll be 46.  That’s a good year to maybe grow up a bit again, but for the time being, I’m gonna play again.

Winnie The Pooh: What day is it?

Christopher Robin: It’s today.

Winnie The Pooh: My favorite day.

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I Stand Apart

“No matter how you care to define it, I do not identify with the local group. Planet, species, race, nation, state, religion, party, union, club, association, neighborhood improvement committee; I have no interest in any of it. I love and treasure individuals as I meet them, I loathe and despise the groups they identify with and belong to.”

― George Carlin, Brain Droppings

“You don’t wanna get mixed up with a guy like me, Dottie.  I’m a loner.  A Rebel.”

– Pee-Wee Herman

When I was growing up, now that I look back on things, I don’t think I was ever liked right off the bat.  Hell, come to think of it, nothing has changed there.  I say that being picked last during playground activities, etc., and the “Don’t take any shit from anybody” message that was given to me by my tía and my grandma formulated the thought in my brain that I was always going to be a one-man wolf pack first.  I was short, and after age 7 I was fat, but I was at least likeable and sometimes funny so that gave me an advantage in my youth to gain friends when given the chance.  During my childhood, as I’ve touched on before in my music blog post, I was allowed the freedom to find my love in the arts.  Not only did I listen to a lot of different music, but I also watched a variety of movies, and I also got into stand-up comedy.  I liked the popular stand ups of the time like Robin Williams, Rodney Dangerfield, etc.… but I also got even more into the guys I shouldn’t have at my age, like George Carlin and Sam Kinison.  They are still pillars of my emotional foundation.  I wanted to listen to everything they put out and I loved them dearly.  Kinison’s albums “Louder than Hell”, “Have You Seen Me Lately?”, and “Live From Hell” along with his HBO Comedy Special “Breaking the Rules” plus the bits he did on Rodney Dangerfield’s Young Comedian Specials still has me laughing up to this day, and  don’t even get me started on George.  “Free Floating Hostility” from his album “Back in Town” is something that I still preach as a foundation of my core principals in life!  Well, maybe not all of it.  “Cowboy hats and cowboy boots” is something that I wear, so I’ll skip that part of agreement with him.  I carried his first book, “Brain Droppings” around like the cherished item it was to me, and the thoughts and ideas therein made me feel like it was ok to be the outcast and forgotten person.  “You don’t want me to be a part of your group?  Well good.  I’m better by myself anyway, suckas!” was and still is my mentality.  I’ve never really fit in with anybody, nor have I wanted to.  What’s the point of doing so?

That brings me to the point of this little post.  Groups.  Last month, out of curiosity to satisfy the knowledge of why these people exist, I watched the expose documentary series on the freemasons.  As some of you may know, Catholic men like myself are forbidden from becoming members of said society, but instead of just being told that I couldn’t, I had to see the reasons why as to give myself ammunition for those who would seek to debate me on the topic.  I do the same thing every night learning my own faith so that I can defend it against those who oppose it or try to talk me out of it.  Anyway, there I was watching this multi part documentary all the while thinking to myself, “Why do people do these stupid things?”  Not just men and their freemasonry, or whatever.  Women too.  There are lots of groups, clubs, etc. that individuals join just to be part of something.  I can’t understand it.   Every little group thing I’ve been talked or forced into, I’ve hated.  Yes, even religious ones.  I’m so much of a loner that I can’t see the point of gathering together as a group to do the same thing.  It’s strange to me.  I’m such a private person when it comes to my interests that quite honestly I’d rather keep them to myself.  Does that make me even weirder?  The only interests that I share out to the public are this blog and my music.  I’m proud of the music I’ve made with my brothers, but I’m not going to go out and seek some sort of community either in real life or online about the brotherhood of being in a band.  Same thing with blogging.  I’m not gonna seek out some online forum for bloggers.  I don’t do either to seek the approval of others.  I do them as a creative outlet for me.  If somebody happens to enjoy either one of them, that’s freaking awesome and I thank you, but honestly, I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me.

Maybe it’s the very strong type b personality of mine coming out, or the INFJ traits that manifest themselves more and more as each day passes, but I just don’t want to be a part of a larger group for anything.  I like to watch from afar and make decisions and speak on a topic from my own point of view and stand as an individual so that I can have my voice truly heard.  Are you still reading this?  Nah, you probably tuned out long ago.  Ha!  It’s alright.  It happens a lot.

Until next blog, amigos!

An Outlet

Hey y’all!  I’m back with more thoughts from this ol’ dome of mine.  I just had a nice long weekend thanks to one Christopher Columbus and having that extra time gave me a lot to think about.  I also refreshed the look of my page here for the first time ever, but I figured 7 years with the same layout was a good run.  I tell you, I’m not good with change.  LOL!

First of all, and quickly, I’ve decided to be even more regimented than before and I think it’s actually working out for me quite nicely!  After a few years, I’ve finally gotten tired of wasting my one true day off on Saturday by either having to clean, do laundry, or be committed to go anywhere.  I’ve been making it a point to clean my joint up and do laundry on Wednesday and Thursday to give me Friday night to start my 1½ days of freedom.  Now, funny enough, when I mentioned my entire week (Monday gym, Tuesday Grandparent’s Day, Wednesday/Thursday Clean and Do Laundry, Friday & Saturday let the chips fall where they may, Sunday Mass then NASCAR/NFL) to some friends, they shook their heads in shame.  For some reason, they can’t comprehend the fact that I am very structured.  Not only do I have my designated days for things, but I try to go to bed at the same time every day and it’s early at that, so even more reason to get ridiculed.  What can I say?  I need that structure in my life.  It makes me happy.

By allowing myself to have those 1½ days of freedom between Friday afternoon and all day Saturday, I gave myself the opportunity to catch up with some programs on Netflix, HBO, and Showtime.  I had been wanting to watch Kevin Smith’s and Henry Rollins’ respective specials on Showtime for a while now and when I finally did get around to watching them, boy did they give me even more sadness about myself.  I’m trying to use the right words too, because maybe sadness isn’t quite it.  Regret, maybe?  I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’ll try to explain here.  As I’m sure I’ve mentioned in previous blog posts, I have a very needy creative mind.  I’m a musician, and if it were up to me, I’d also probably be some sort of public speaker, creative writer, something!  I feel the need to express myself via those two art form mediums pure and uninterrupted, and that’s why I’ve had this blog for 7 years running now.  I don’t get paid for writing it, but it soothes that creative itch to share those expressions that feel they need to get out of me.  Additionally, yes, if you are seeing this blog post on clonesn.wordpress.com and not the wordpress reader, that mic’ed up drumset is mine.  That was taken the last day I played them which was Memorial Day Saturday of last year.  It goes without saying that I desperately miss playing music.  It’s not really my fault that I haven’t.  Life has gotten in the way of my bandmate’s and I’s schedules and the band has taken a backseat.  I’m free now, but they really aren’t so that’s left me with this unscratched itch to play in a band.  The thing with that is that I need to play music with people that I know.  I just can’t play with complete strangers.  I need to know their musical likes, dislikes, and style of playing so that we can see if we’re compatible.  I know it sounds snobbish of me to say, but that’s the truth, so I don’t want to go to Guitar Center or Craig’s List or somewhere and try my hand at auditioning for some band or to form a band myself.  Maybe if things get bad enough, I might resort to it, but I don’t know yet.  Anyway, while watching Henry Rollins’ special, he told the story about his band, Rollins Band, opening up for Ozzy Osborne somewhere in Florida in the early to mid 1990s and playing for a crowd of roughly 25,000 people.  I don’t want to ruin it much for you, but something about the story struck me.  The thing that made me think was that Henry has now purposefully retired from music.  That, I learned from his latest appearance on The Joe Rogan Experience podcast, but in any event, Rollins at one point in his life played for a crowd of 25,000 people and even though they didn’t really cheer for him anywhere near as loud as they cheered for the headlining act, he got a response and loved every minute of it, but now finds himself not wanting to keep that dream alive.  He says that he has nothing else to say lyrically.  I find that insane to believe, really.  How can you not write songs about the experiences that he has now traveling the world gathering stories to speak of on his “talking on stage” tours?  Maybe he gets the same rush from the hundreds to a few thousand people he gets at the venues he gets booked at, and that’s cool, but to me the rush you get from playing music has to be different.  You’re speaking a universal language where somebody who doesn’t even speak English can understand the music you’re playing and their energy combines with yours to create even more emotion and musical expression.  I know, I’m getting too deep here, but my point is that hearing that story of him playing got me sad that I haven’t every had that experience in a rock band setting.  I’ve played for a few packed houses of a few hundred people and I can still tap into that feeling and crave more.  It got me wanting to play my drums and get people to connect with either me or a feeling inside themselves and right now I don’t have an outlet for that.  I guess sadness is the word I’d describe how I feel about it.

I finished Henry’s special and went on to Kevin Smith’s special.  Now, for those who know me in the real world, you know that I am a big Kevin Smith fan.  I was really looking forward to seeing this Showtime special for a few weeks now since it’s come out, but it was only until this weekend that I actually had the time to do it.  I wasn’t disappointed.  The one message that Kev always tries to put out on any of his numerous podcasts and now this special is that anybody can do what he does.  Everybody has a talent.  Chase your dreams!  I hear this every time and I say to myself “Hell yeah, man!  You’re right!  I should write more!  Play more music!  Make more people laugh with the stupid things I say!  Something!  I have these creative gifts, I should freakin’ use them!”  And well, here I am!  I figure this medium will be the closest I’ll ever get to going up on stage and talking about my life and maybe hopefully inspire somebody to follow their dreams or save them from ruin with one of the many stories of my life.  My feeling of needing to help those who are in need of a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, and ear to beat, whatever, is out there.  I’m gonna follow what Kev told me and do this.  If all I ever do is connect with you, then that’s good enough for me.

Thanks for taking the time to read my post!  Until next time, y’all!

I’M OLD!!!!!!

I can’t believe it, but it’s finally happened.  I’ve finally gotten old.  I know, it sounds crazy to say and for some even worse to admit, but I’ve officially become old.  I can’t tell you exactly when it happened, to be honest, and maybe that’s also a sign of old age, but it has.  I’ll explain here briefly.

During this last camping trip a couple of weeks ago, I found that I really had no energy to go hike or explore the camping area.  Granted, it was raining just about half or more than half the time we were there and I just didn’t want to bother with wet clothes, etc, I was just really too tired to do anything anyway.  I just wanted to sit and relax.  What the hell, right?  Another thing, I’ve become one of those people to refer to people between the ages of 18-25 as kids.  Legally, they are adults, but let’s face it; most of them don’t know a thing about life.  No offense to those who read this who are in this age group.  I was there in that age group 13 years ago, but looking back, until I reached around the age of 26 or so, I still really didn’t get it.  I thought that I understood, but looking back I know I didn’t.  Lastly, two of my favorite films have helped shed light that yes, in fact, I am now old.  Those two films are Hot Tub Time Machine and Grandma’s Boy.  Fine American cinema, as you probably already know!  L O L!!!!  But for as raunchy and silly of comedies that they are, they both deal with “people of a certain age” which is really anything older than 29 and living life after that stage.  For example, in Hot Tub Time Machine, the group of friends travel through time in a hot tub (hence the name of the film.  Clever, right?!), yet until one of them sees their reflection in the mirror they all think that they are living life as guys in their late 30s/early 40s.  When they still don’t know they are young again (spoilers) they all notice the fact they feel great and full of energy, etc.  It’s a hilarious film, well to me it is, and even though that one scene when they say that they feel great, fantastic, etc. I laughed then but it really didn’t register until recently that when you get older you start to feel it.  I look at it now with different eyes and wish that I could have those youthful feelings again too.

Yesterday, while preparing dinner, I decided to put on Grandma’s Boy just to have background noise for me to laugh to.  That silly movie is still funny to me, but for the first time yesterday it made me feel old.  I didn’t feel old because I understood all the video game references in it or that I was in my mid 20s when that movie came out and it felt relevant to me… no, I felt old because the main character gets teased for being 35 and working as a video game tester with a bunch of 18-25 year old kids.  All of a sudden I went from laughing at some of the insults to saying “Holy SMOKES!  I’m freakin’ older than this dude is in the movie!  I’m 3 months shy of 38!!  This dude was only 35 and they were just calling him “old man”!  No way!!!”  Well, even that that said, I finished out the movie and still laughed, but it really had me thinking the whole time if that’s what kids think of me.

I don’t feel like I’m elderly yet though!  Let me make that clear!  I still have some youthful energy in me, but young?  Those days have passed my friends.  I had my moment in the sun.  I think I missed it, actually, but apparently it was there.  I’ve become a man who really doesn’t fit in.  I’m not young by any means, but at the same time I’m not old either.  What a weird phase to have entered into.