From what I can tell, Deadheads are deeply divided on ol' Les, but I'm a fan. I happened to be working the Bammies one year when Primus played; I walked out to the front of the stage at a random moment and my jaw pretty much hit the floor. Mind you I don't claim to understand the dude, but I get a a big kick out of him, and I loved it the time he opened for Phil at the Greek.
I can't wait to see this film! Thanks, marye!
"If the forms of this world die, which is more real, the me that dies or the me that's infinite? Can I trust my habitual mind, or do I need to learn to look beneath those things?"
Just stumbled across this on Craigslist:
1/10: National Lampoon Presents - Electric Apricot: Quest for Festeroo (san rafael)
Date: 2007-12-21, 2:46PM PST
Electric Apricot: Quest for Festeroo 7:30 p.m.
Filmmakers in Person
Les Claypool, singer and bassist with the band Primus, makes his directorial debut with this irreverent spoof of the music industry, tracking a fictional jam band called Electric Apricot along their rocky commercial and spiritual journey to achieve the glories of the Grateful Dead and Phish.
Claypool plays Electric Apricot’s drummer Lapland, and along with fellow band members Adam Gates, Brian Kehoe and Jonathan Korty, we share the travails of recording the first album and follow them up that yellow-brick road to Festeroo, their ultimate gig.
Largely filmed in Marin, the film features cameo appearances by musicians Bob Weir and Mike Gordon, as well as Seth Green and Matt Stone.
Rated R for some language and sexual content including references. Producer: Jason McHugh. Executive Producer: Matthew J. Powers. Director Les Claypool. (US 2007) 91 min.
Smith Rafael Film Center
1118 Fourth Street
San Rafael, CA 94901
Slingblade (Love them french fried taters, Mmmmm, Hmmmm)
The Grateful Dead Movie (Thanks Jerry)
Eric Clapton Crossroads Guitar Festival (2004 & 2007)
That's enough for now. I'm sure I'll be back with some more in the future.
I love A Christmas Story too! Grate flick :)
Sorry folks, I couldn't leave her there...
Some men are Baptists, others Catholics; my father was an Oldsmobile man.
In the heat of battle my father wove a tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan.
Mother: All right. Now, are you ready to tell me where you heard that word?
Ralphie as Adult: [narrating] Now, I had heard that word at least ten times a day from my old man. He worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium; a master. But, I chickened out and said the first name that came to mind.
Fra-gee-lay. It must be Italian.
Over the years I got to be quite a connoisseur of soap. Though my personal preference was for Lux, I found that Palmolive had a nice, piquant after-dinner flavor - heavy, but with a touch of mellow smoothness. Life Buoy, on the other hand... YECCHH!
He looks like a deranged Easter Bunny.
Adults loved to say things like that but kids knew better. We knew darn well it was always better not to get caught.
The old man stood there, quivering with fury, stammering as he tried to come up with a real crusher. All he got out was... Naddafinga!
Of course. Santa. The big man. The head honcho. The connection. Ha, my mother had slipped up this time.
Actually the Old Man loved it. He had always pictured himself in the pits of the Indianapolis Speedway in the 500. My old man's spare tires were only actually tires in the academic sense. They were round and had once been made of rubber.
With as much dignity as he could muster, the Old Man gathered up the sad remains of his shattered Major Award. Later that night, alone in the backyard, he buried it next to the garage. Now I could never be sure, but I thought that I heard the sound of "Taps" being played. Gently.
"You'll shoot your eye out, kid."
I think Travolta is a great actor.
I watched " A Love Song For Bobby Long". I thought that it really should have won some awards. It made me tear up a little at the end. The movie is a few years old, but I'd never heard of it until I ran across it. Lovey Dovey, check it out when you have the time.
last night finally watched the DVD of Hairspray, which had arrived from Netflix a few days back. While it is nothing whatever like the Dead OR the Shawshank Redemption (though I suppose a creative college student stuck for paper topics could come up with something), it was pretty much a treat from beginning to end and I recommend it heartily.
And let me just say that John Travolta is a flippin' national treasure. He makes you entirely forget about John Travolta and see Edna Turnblad, which is remarkable in itself. And he's not only a fabulous dancer (in a fat suit yet...) he's an utterly endearing dancer, and I rarely think of those two words together. Academy Awards are very much a product of prevailing industry winds (as my bro the sound engineer who's won four of them says himself), but if he does not get nominated for this role there is even less justice in the world than I thought.
i just love the way that morgan freeman narrates the movie. his tone is sooo mellow. i could listen to that guy read the phone book.
nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile