Sunday, March 10, 2013

Cache au Vin

Cranky old reptile — not looking too cranky — and very nice lady
Couldn't have paid for a nicer weekend for outdoor activities, so outdoor activities it was. Yesterday, the right lovely Ms. Brugger and I headed westward toward the Yadkin Valley, bound for Laurel Gray and Raffaldini Vineyards. Brugger and I both prefer dry reds, and Laurel Gray currently offers only two — Windsor, a Meritage-style blend of four estate-grown French vinifera grapes; and Scarlet Mountain, an off-dry blend of four Bordeaux grapes — but they're both so frippin' excellent that anything else would likely be superfluous. The winery itself is set in a scenic corner of Yadkin County, and the building features a large veranda from which one can sit comfortably and view the vineyards, a picturesque pond, and a bunch of rocks wherein lurks the geocache ("Grape City," GC1B8DX, which I found on an earlier expedition out this way). Was there additional caching on our way out west? Hell yes, there was caching on our way out west; what kind of question is that?
The view from the veranda at Laurel Gray Vineyards
After a couple of delicious glasses of wine at Laurel Gray, we moved on to Raffaldini, only five miles to the northwest, which is a much larger and more ambitious establishment. The winery is patterned after a Tuscan villa, and, as Ms. B. aptly observed, if you squint just right, you might get the feeling you're actually in western Italy. From the elevated terrace, you can see for countless miles, the crests of the Blue Ridge Mountains extending from horizon to horizon. Raffaldini's current list features about a dozen wines, including several dry reds that are uniformly excellent. Their Bello Misto — a blend of Syrah, Mourvedre, Grenache, and Petit Verdot — is a long-time favorite of mine, and their Sangiovese Riserva proved to be superb. They also make a delicious Montepulciano, but it's currently sold out.
The Villa at Raffaldini Vineyards (photo from their website)
Cupdaisy and Robgso signing the
log at one of many caches found
today. Why do suppose Cupdaisy
is holding that milk jug?

After an enjoyable afternoon at Raffaldini, we returned to the Piedmont Triad and met our friends, Terry and Beth Nelson, for a spot of dinner at Bill's Pizza Pub in Oak Ridge. Killer good pizza, this place has. Before retiring last night, I noticed that 26 new geocaches had been published down in the Grandover/Guilford Tech area, not too far away....

This morning, it was up early — way too early, since we lost a freaking hour to Daylight Saving Time — and a day on the caching trail with Rob Isenhour (a.k.a. Robgso) and Debbie Shoffner (a.k.a. Cupdaisy). We targeted those 26 new ones, and dang if we didn't get first to find on 20 of them. Most were none too difficult, but there were a couple that offered enjoyable physical challenges (tree climbing — woo hoo!). Afterward, a tolerable Mexican lunch at San Luis on High Point Road, and then a bit of maintenance on one of Cupdaisy's older caches. At the end of it all, we spent nearly an hour out in my driveway shooting the shit and swapping caching stories... which, you might be shocked to learn, geocachers are wont to do.

And that, I expect, will be the extent of our winery visitations... until we go visit more wineries. There are plenty of good ones in the area to choose from.

'Tis all.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Binding Time Book Signing


That's right, a dingy-dang book signing, on Friday, March 22, 2013, 3:00–5:00 PM, at Binding Time Cafe & Bookstore, 1115 Spruce Street, Martinsville, Virginia 24112. Stop in, meet the old man, and check out his latest novel, The Monarchs, among others. Binding Time is a cozy cafe that specializes in delicious food — and a fine selection of books. If you're in the area, do come round for a pleasant... and very likely frightening... afternoon in Martinsville! And for you geocachers out there.... Martinsville has a crapload of caches just waiting for you. I should know — I put a fair mess of them out there.

Hope to see you.

Monday, March 4, 2013

It Is NOT the "Lesbo" Coven


Author/retired college professor Anthony Servante gives The Lebo Coven the critical treatment in the latest installment of his blog, Servante of Darkness. Here's a little teaser:

"As I’ve eagerly awaited the paperback version of Blue Devil Island to arrive in the mail, I got to reading The Lebo Coven — 'a traditional, family-centered supernatural tale,' as Rainey calls it. So, even though I had (and still do) planned to review the historically based horror novel, Blue Devil Island, I jumped the gun a bit to review the latter work, and I'm glad I did...."

See why by heading over here: Servante on The Lebo Coven.

Also on the horror writing front, I'm planning to have a book signing in Martinsville (VA) at Binding Time cafe and bookstore, tentatively planned for Friday, March 22, from 3:00–5:00 PM. Binding Time is a fabulous little place — a cafe-slash-bookstore with excellent food and an intimate atmosphere. Check 'em out on Facebook too: www.facebook.com/BindingTime. If you're in the vicinity and can make it in, please do. I'll have copies of The Monarchs, Blue Devil Island, Other Gods, and The Gaki. I'll post an update when things are set in stone.

Read. The Lebo Coven at Amazon.com

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Just a Travelin', Cachin' Con Man

Stellarcon 37 is over and done — a reasonably successful weekend for me, with a couple of entertaining panels, a few books devalued with my signature, and a bunch of geocaches logged. (Alas, I neglected to take any photographs this year, candid, incriminating, horrifying, or otherwise.) On Friday evening, Ms B and I headed over to the Greensboro-High Point Airport Marriott Hotel, checked in at the con, and then headed straight back out to procure a first-class, grade-A, truly fabulous Japanese dinner at Little Tokyo in High Point (their bulgogi roll made my eyes roll back in my head, and I've not been able to see straight since). A couple of panels at the con followed, along with some pleasant, relaxing time with Ms Kimberly at the hotel bar. Saturday, I returned, sans girlfriend, for another panel and a book signing, and then I headed out for what really makes a convention a convention — a geocaching run. Since I've pretty well cleaned up the airport area, I headed into High Point proper and successfully hunted several, including one that has eluded me on several previous occasions.

A definite highlight of the con was getting to hang out with fellow writers/geocachers Andi Newton and Chad Bowser. We met for the first time at Stellarcon last year, and this time around we found several moments to swap caching and tale-telling tales. They live over in Kernersville, which Kimberly and I fairly regularly infiltrate (Bistro B in K'ville is one of our favorite places in the world), so we're hoping to get together to scheme, plot, bamboozle, commiserate, and cache in the near future.
A right nice picture of my
right nice Mum

It was nothing if not a well-traveled weekend. Today, I needed to head up to Martinsville to help Mum with some pressing financial matters, so I rousted myself at the crack of dawn and, hoping to grab several new caches, made the trip in very roundabout fashion: first, up through Madison, NC; then up to Stuart, VA; over to Fairystone Park, VA; and finally into Martinsville. I did manage first-to-find on a couple of them, and, quite by chance, I ran into my friend Ed Kuykendall (a.k.a. Kuykenew) on the caching trail (we had shared first-to-find honors on a new night cache in Martinsville last weekend). Before heading home, I detoured through Eden to grab a new puzzle cache. That done, it was back to Greensboro to see how much of my house Droolie had left me.

It wasn't completely in shambles. Not completely. But the team from Designs by Droolie® had definitely given the place a thorough once-over.

That is all.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

It Is Happening Again... Stellarcon 37

Stellarcon 37 is taking place this weekend at the Greensboro-High Point Marriott Airport hotel. I’ll be on a few panels, signing books, and raising a general ruckus. Panel schedule as follows:

Friday, March 1
“Historical Horror Through the Ages”
8:00 PM – 9:00 PM

“Blood, Love, and Vampires: A Retrospective”
11:00 PM – 12:00 AM

Saturday, March 2

“Editors — How Do They Work?”
11:00 AM – 12:00 PM

Ms. B. and I will be skulking around the premises at various times, so watch your back. Seriously.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Geocaching Mecca

Cloven hoof prints. Deer path or Devil's
Tramping Ground?

If you visit this blog, like, ever, you'll know I am a fairly rabid geocacher. I've been at this little activity for just over five years and have claimed about 5,600 caches to date. As you might imagine, most of the cache logs within a reasonable distance of home already bear my signature, so when new caches pop up, I'm pretty much chomping at the bit to go after them. When I started in 2008, only a scant few caches had been hidden in Danville, VA, and I had claimed the lot of them in just a couple of visits. However, over the years, as more geocachers have become active in the area, Danville has become a veritable geocaching Mecca, full of clever, ingenious, and memorable hides, placed by individuals bearing such intriguing aliases as Klaussinator, Allofdem, JJ&MJ, Spring1, Esddan, Djnpd, Oneeyedwillie79, keithandlaura, and many more. I keep cleaning out Danville, and they keep putting out new ones, bringing me back time and time again... and I love every minute of it. Danville's not a terribly big town, but it's a picturesque place with a rich history, much of which you naturally discover as you go about hunting the hides around the community. With miles upon miles of trails in Angler's Park, Dan Daniel Park, Ballou Park, and the Riverwalk, there's no shortage of hiking and/or biking, and the plentiful hides in the town proper — as well as out in Pittsylvania County — have led me to discover some fun little restaurants and wine bars, such as The Corner Cafe, Tokyo Grill, and Jake's on Main.

Today started out cold and rainy as all get-out, but as I had to head up to Mum's in Martinsville, I detoured through Danville to pick up yet more caches I needed (and left myself enough for another trip or two). I snagged several — in town and at Dan Daniel Park — but the highlight of the outing was surely lunch at Tokyo Grill. I've eaten there a number of times, but today I tried their chirashi for the first time, and, oh lordy, it was so good I friggin' hollered. I like sushi almost as much as caching, and while Tokyo Grill generally does it right, the chirashi they did all kinds of right.

Whether or not you're a geocacher (if not, you have my sympathies), hie thee on over to Danville to sample the wares of all varieties. Tell 'em Damned Rodan sent you.
Riverwalk Rest Area. No overnight parking allowed.
Lunch at Tokyo Grill. All kinds of hollering is definitely allowed.

Monday, February 18, 2013

THE MONARCHS... Intelligently Written, Character Driven, and Bloody


Hey, looky looky what reviewer TT Zuma at Horrorworld.org said about my latest:

"I would recommend The Monarchs to anyone who enjoys their horror intelligently written, character driven, and bloody. Without giving too much away, I can say that The Monarchs has one of the most exciting endings to a novel that I’ve read in the last year. You really shouldn’t pass this one by."

I'll buy that for a dollar! (You can actually get The Monarchs on your Kindle or Nook for little more than that, and the trade paperback is currently only twelve bucks at both Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.)

Read the entire review at Horrorworld.org, and then hasten yourself over to one vendor or another to check out the novel. It'll do the most terrible things to your innards, for god's sake, and that don't sell you, I don't know what will.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

The Caching Dead


Today turned out to be chilly and blustery but sunny, so what better idea than to go out to the wilds of Caswell County to hunt "The Caching Dead" (GC44TRM) with some fellow geocachers? In the early afternoon, I met up with Homestyle (a.k.a. Audra); her son, Homekid (a.k.a. Zachary); Ithink314 (a.k.a. Bob); and Geocachere (a.k.a. Karen) to brave the frigid winds and hordes of living dead. First order of business was to claim first-to-find honors on a brand new cache in the area; then it was off to explore the county's darkest corners where the deer and the undead play. Some of the settings we encountered were a creepy, abandoned hatchery; a creepy, abandoned prison; a creepy, abandoned community center; and some creepy, perhaps not-quite-abandoned woods. Sights of interest included several skulls nailed to walls and hanging in trees, a spent tear gas canister, and a severed hand (also dangling from a tree). Certain of our party seemed to be overcome by the zombie fever, for — depending on whom you asked — they could be described as ordinary-looking people, misshapen monsters, people who look as if they're in a trance, and creatures that look like people but behave like animals (see accompanying photographic evidence). We signed our logs as "Team Deathrealm," after the title of the magazine that you-know-who edited all those many years ago (it seemed apt enough). "The Caching Dead" itself is the brainchild of my semi-regular caching partner Rtmlee (a.k.a. Robbin), and it earns an easy favorite point from the old man.

At the end of it all, we hied ourselves to a quaint little community called Milton, just this side of the Virginia state line, and an equally quaint establishment called Aunt Millie's, where we took respite from the coming night and downed some tasty beer and vittles. Afterward, we went our separate ways, and I can only hope the surviving members of our party actually survived.

At some future time, I'll let you know whether I did.
The abandoned hatchery, where we first got the sense that something might be a bit off.
And speaking of a bit off....
Clearly, nothing to see here... or is there?
Yeah, they're dead, they're all messed up.
People who acted as if they were in a kind of trance were killing and eating their victims....

Sunday, February 10, 2013

The Leaning Table, or Shevacon 21 is History

Old dude at the leaning table, Blues BBQ Company, Roanoke, VA
Shevacon 21 officially ended today, and my final activity in Roanoke was to have lunch with Brugger at Blues BBQ Company, on Market Street, which served us the best barbecue I think I've ever tasted... and that's saying all kinds of something. The restaurant is in a very old building, and the floor clearly sags in places; our table leaned at an angle of about five degrees, which made for a most entertaining lunch experience — and, as the young lady said, it would have been even more fun if we'd had marbles to play with.

This year, I ended up spending less time than usual at the con and more time wandering Roanoke with Kimberly — snagging geocaches when appropriate, of course. I did participate in four panels, which all went swimmingly, and I quite enjoyed the dealers' room and art show. By all accounts, the programming went smoothly this year, with panels commencing and ending right on time, and con personnel typically on hand to reign in out-of-control aliens (though it did appear that a squad of Imperial stormtroopers crashed a Mardi Gras party in one of the banquet rooms; I hope there was no shooting, for the stormtroopers wouldn't have had a prayer). I understand the judges of the costume contest dilly-dallied far too long, but that particular activity is one for which I have little affinity, so I did not experience this frustration firsthand. My compliments to programming director Jeremy Stroup and his team, who evidently had things well in paw this year.
Creeple people enjoying drinks — and
frightening the passersby — by firelight
on the terrace of the Hotel Roanoke

For Kimberly and I, the weekend's highlight was the Hotel Roanoke itself, which hosted the con this year. We only stayed there Saturday night, since it's a bit on the pricey side, but its central location made it easy for us to get out and about and find myriad interesting corners in the downtown area. There's lots... and I mean lots... of choices for dining, and we discovered some distinctive and surprisingly affordable establishments. Besides the barbecue joint, we enjoyed Alejandro's Mexican Grill, Metro!, Thai Continental, and Wasabi's — not to mention the hotel bar, The Pine Room (which served as an officer's club in World War II). After dinner at Wasabi's last night, upon our return to the hotel, we discovered numerous lit braziers providing warmth out on the hotel terrace, so Brugger and I spent a quarter hour or so sitting in the frigid wilds of downtown Roanoke, sipping wine and martinis, and loving every freezing minute of it. Despite oftentimes painfully cold temperatures and roaring high winds, we walked just about everywhere (which, after some of these meals, was the only decent thing to do), and I have to say I enjoyed Roanoke's character more than I ever thought I would. In my college days at Ferrum, only a few miles down the road from there, I visited Roanoke frequently (on its original run, I saw Star Wars in theaters 23 times, most of them in Roanoke — I beg your pardon, I am not a geek!), and I've been back through there many times over the years, but I'd say the city has remade itself remarkably in the past two or three decades. Go, Roanoke!

I, for one, hope Shevacon will be back at the grand hotel next year, and that, for our part, circumstances are right for a return engagement.

That is all.

The Hotel Roanoke viewed from the downtown Railwalk; that wonderful covered walkway
more than once offered us some much-needed respite from howling arctic winds.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Return to Shevacon

I haven't attended Shevacon in Roanoke, VA, either as a guest or attendee, in several years, but I'm back for Shevacon 21 this weekend as a writer guest. It's at the Hotel Roanoke, which is a bit pricier than than your typical mid-size convention accommodations, but it's smack in the heart of downtown, in a scenic location, and close to lots of dining and other entertainment establishments. Drove up from Greensboro this afternoon — and as a matter of fact, yes, I did grab a slew of geocaches along the way; thanks for asking. I had just one panel this evening — "Short Stories: When Do You Expand and When Do You Stop?" — but I'll be on several more over the course of the weekend, and I've got plenty of copies of The Monarchs, along with Blue Devil Island, Other Gods, and The Gaki to foist on unsuspecting victims.

Here's the schedule for the rest of the weekend:

Saturday, February 9
"Beating Writer’s Block" — 2:00 PM–2:50 PM, Harrison/Tyler Room
"Dealing With Taboo Subjects in Writing" — 10:00 PM–10:50 PM, Harrison/Tyler Room

Sunday, February 10
"Creature Creation: Classic, New, or New Twist on a Classic?" — 12:00 PM–10:50 PM, Harrison/Tyler Room

When not involved with con business, I spent the afternoon and evening wandering around downtown, mostly hunting caches (found several), and taking in the character of the town. I used to spend a lot of time in Roanoke, but it's been many years, especially since I've visited downtown itself, and I'm finding myself quite taken with it. There's a walkway near the railroad tracks — aptly called the Railwalk — that describes a great deal of Roanoke's rich history, which I enjoyed walking but for the incessant, frigid winds that just about cut me into little pieces. I gotta tell you, this stuff felt just about like Chicago cold. Finally, I discovered a decent little Thai restaurant — Thai Continental, on Market Street — that quite hit the spot.

Back tomorrow.

Click on the images to enlarge.
The Railwalk information center
Looking south on Williamson Road, with Mill Mountain in the distance
The view east on the footbridge over the railroad tracks. The wind
just about swiped my phone out of my hands.
A view of the hotel, with St. Andrews Catholic Church in the background; as a younger chap, I was
more than certain Lovecraft's Haunter of the Dark lived there. Perhaps I was right.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

THE MONARCHS at Nook First

This week, The Monarchs is the featured title at barnesandnoble.com's Nook First section. The e-book is $4.99, available for immediate download. You can also get it in trade paperback ($12.99) and hardback ($26.89). I gotta tell you, Ms. B. read this thing and enjoyed it so much that, instead of grievous bodily harm, she hit me with mere vicious verbal abuse. That's some real testimony, that is.

Get it from Barnes & Noble here, or read more about the book and other ordering options at my website here. Do enjoy!

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

"Beneath the Pier" at Lovecraft e-Zine


"Beneath the Pier," one of my most recent little tales of fear, horror, dread, and woe, is now live at Lovecraft e-Zine (issue #21). The online edition is free. You can get the entire issue for your Kindle or Nook for $2.99, or the podcast edition for 99¢. Here's a little teaser from "Beneath the Pier":

Mercer was only fifty, but they called him "Old Grand-dad," like the whiskey, because he had made the trip to Lufford Bay every year since the others were adolescents and his weathered features and thin, sandy hair made him look wise—or perhaps more apt, battered but unbeaten. He liked these young people; six of them this year: the sons and daughters of his companions from trips long past, when the highway between Georgetown and Charleston was little more than a rutted, two-lane passage through the pine forests, cotton fields, and marshes. The highway was bigger and better paved now, but once you left it for the narrow, sandy roads that snaked toward the bay, you went back a hundred years, or thousands, into a lonely, primeval landscape that once had been the domain only of pioneers, pirates, and the Swamp Fox.

Once each year they came, early in the autumn, while the ocean was warm even as a chill began to overtake the nights. There was too much marsh and mud here for hotels and tourists, so Lufford remained mostly unspoiled by humans. Nature, however, had smashed it time and again with wind and water, leaving behind vast networks of black, reed-ridden pools and scattered clusters of only the sturdiest oaks, their branches choked and dripping with Spanish moss, their trunks gnarled, bent, and knotted. The beach cabin looked as if the slightest breeze might topple it, yet it had withstood five decades of storms and might stand for just as many more. Its dark bulk squatted atop a balustrade of bowed stilts, its sharply angled roof crooked but sturdy, its seams still sealed against the elements. Mercer didn’t remember what color it might have been, all the paint long since stripped, the splintered wooden siding now as gray as ancient cobweb. His father had built the house to endure.
The two four-wheel drive vehicles rattled and shuddered as they pulled up next to the cabin, their bodies and tires coated with fine gray sand. Mercer drove the lead truck; he always drove. Without a word to his companions, he shoved the door open and dropped into a bed of sand that swallowed his feet to his ankles. The others disembarked slowly, sighing and groaning after the long drive from Chapel Hill. The late afternoon sun was hot, almost stifling, but within the hour, the ocean breeze would turn cool, and come nightfall, a roaring fire would feel like heaven.

"I thirst," Ted Wakefield rumbled, stretching his arms out, Christ-like. "Rum, I think."

Check out the issue — if there's not too much seriously wrong with you (or maybe if there is), you'll love the hell out of it. Also on board are authors Joe Pulver, Gerry Huntman, Tom Lynch, and Wilum H. Pugmire; artists Nick Gucker, Mike Dominic, Stephen Lukac, Robert Elrod, Leslie Herzfeld, and Adam Baker; and audio readers Vincent LaRosa, Chaz Engan, David Binks, Lew Columbus, and Morgan Scorpion. Lovecraft e-Zine is edited by Mike Davis.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Earth, Wind, Fire, & Water

Everybody's got a laughing place. For some, it's a
crematorium oven in an old WWII POW compound.

Earth, Wind, Fire, & Water (GCJJTP). Headed out the door bright and early this morning, bound for Butner, just northeast of Durham, to meet up with a group of 20-some cachers determined to tackle this modest little hide. It's a four-stager, with each stage progressively more challenging — physically and otherwise — than the last. Among the suggested accouterments to bring along is a Native American numerologist, and, as the lot of us soon found out, for good reason. We gathered near stage 1 at 10:00 AM, and soon we were hiking out to ground zero, which turned out to be a crumbling ammo bunker circa World War II. We found and decrypted the hide quickly enough; returning it to its hiding place — an interesting balancing act — was no doubt my main material contribution to the group for the day. Alas, I did manage to carelessly place myself directly beneath a massive deluge of rusty debris as I maneuvered certain objects and ended up a very dirty Damned Rodan. From there, we had to negotiate some fairly treacherous terrain to reach the next stage, which certain of our party made short work of. At this point, though, the team became quite fragmented, and getting us all back together was kind of like trying to herd cats. At last, though, we found ourselves more or less regrouped, and thus resumed our forward progress. At the parking area for stage 3, Mr. Steve "Nthacker66" Thacker procured us a tasty bit of venison for lunch, and after we finished urping, we made the short hike to a challenging and fairly spectacular ground zero. Happily, we had brought along a few agile cachemonkeys to undertake the acrobatics — the highlight of which was an airborne squirrel passing directly over the heads of our unsuspecting, precariously perched daredevils. Finally, we're down to the final endeavor. This one had us scratching our heads for a bit, but at last, the hide revealed itself. An intrepid few of our number — military guys, much to our benefit — geared up for the job, which proved anything but quick and easy. There were a couple of fairly hairy moments here, but at the end of it, we all managed to scribble our signatures in the logbook. The cache owner and a previous finder or two came along to witness the proceedings, and I'm pretty sure they got themselves a few chuckles along the way. A great cache indeed, and a mighty fine crowd of cachers to do it with. Could hardly have asked for a better day. Many thanks to the CO and all who came out for the venture.

Hmm, did I say modest little hide up there? I meant monster hide. Yeah, that was it.
Don't do it, Ms. Nocona, don't jump! It's not THAT bad!!!
Wonder where this stage might be hidden?
Oh... yeah, there.
NOMS!
I say, are there trolls in this neighborhood?
Why, yes there are. The victorious caching party on the old bridge.

Friday, January 18, 2013

A New Angel

Martha and Mum at Christmas, 2008

Growing up in Martinsville, VA, I had not one mom but two. More or less, anyway. My mom's best friend, Martha Wickliffe, was a constant in our family, always there to keep my brother and I straight when Mum and Dad weren't able, and, in later years, as a dear friend and confidant who always knew just the right thing to say or do whenever life offered up one of its inevitable challenges. Back in 2000 and 2001, When my dad was going through his final trials, Martha and her husband, Dick, were my family's lifeline; I really don't know how any of us, especially my mom, would have sanely made it through that period if Martha and Dick hadn't been there to provide physical, emotional, and spiritual support.

Martha has been going through her own terrible trials these past couple of years, and she finally succumbed on this past Tuesday, January 15, 2013. The funeral was today in Martinsville.

Martha and Dick had three young' uns — Gretchen, who is my age; Todd, a couple of years younger; and Scott, five years younger and the same age as my brother. We spent a lot of our youthful years together, making mischief, sometimes getting in trouble (it was all Scott's fault, of course — except for those times it wasn't), playing army, creating mad scientist creations, climbing way too high up any tree we could find, wracking ourselves up playing tackle football sans any form of protection... all that good stuff that kids do. We often tried to keep our parents from discovering the crap we were up to, but they had ways of figuring it out... especially Martha. She always seemed tuned in to our secrets, and if it became necessary to foil us for our own safety, she would do it happily — but in such a way that it was "cool." When the general perception among the adults was that I was misbehaving (clearly this was wrong because I never did any such thing), she wouldn't tell Mum but have a little heart-to-heart with me, which usually made me feel a wee bit ashamed of myself — but not at the expense of my personal dignity. Now, I don't know whether Gretchen, Todd, and Scott got this kind of treatment (I suspect she just whooped them), but I think it's safe to say that her brand of discipline perfectly complemented my folks', who could straighten me out all right, but never so pleasantly as Martha.

As an adult, I maintained a close friendship with Martha, and for so many years, she was there to share her unique brand of wisdom with me, particularly when we were going through my dad's crisis and when my marriage began to crumble. I credit Martha with helping me understand Peg in a way I never could have on my own, which I think truly helped us work through the divorce as amiably as we did.

Martha Wickliffe was a guiding angel in my life, and I know I'll miss her with all my heart. But her influence on me was profound, and that is something that will remain with me till my time comes. In my just over a half-century of existence, I've been privileged to know many shining examples of life and how to live it, and Martha was among the brightest. Rest in peace, my dear friend.
Martha snugger than a bug in a rug.
Christmas 2008: Happy times. Back: Martha and Dick Wickliffe, Mum, Peggy Rainey, old dude.
Front: Mary Clifton, brother Phred

Thursday, January 17, 2013

It Was a Dark, Snowy, Sleety, Rainy, Windy, Thundery Night

After several days of temperatures that insinuated summer might be in the offing, we get our first winter storm, and it was kind of a doozy. Don't think I've ever experienced snow, sleet, rain, wind, lightning, and thunder simultaneously until tonight. And for some time, I kept hearing the distinctive, repetitive sound of footsteps on my roof. It unnerved the cats, and they all skulked off to hide. I took my camera and went outside for a bit, but couldn't spot any supernatural entities lurking about. Lots of snowflakes with delusions of grandeur, though — some as big as the Cockroach What Ate Cincinnati.

Now, back into the warmth, which I am very thankful to have. I hope whatever's walking around on my roof doesn't poke holes in it.

And a late addendum. I had no sooner typed the above when the power went out. Fortunately, the house didn't get too cold, and the electricity was restored sometime around 1:00 AM. Things are returning to normal.... as they said in Invasion of the Body Snatchers....

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

THE MONARCHS — Get the e-Book Now!


Yes sir, the e-book edition of The Monarchs is available now — in Mobi (Kindle), ePub (Sony/Nook/iPad/Kobo), PDF (Adobe), and PRC (Mobipocket) formats. You can pick it up directly from Crossroad Press for $4.99 (try buying a glass of wine for that!) here: Crossroad Press: The Monarchs. Or you can get it (for the same price) for the Nook directly from Barnes & Noble (Barnes & Noble: The Monarchs) or for Kindle directly from Amazon.com (Amazon.com: The Monarchs). The Monarchs is scheduled to be featured in Barnes & Noble's "Nook First" program on February 7.

The trade paperback and hardcover editions will be available in February as well.

You can view a portion of the novel on both the Barnes & Noble and Amazon sites. Or you can read a sample chapter at my website, here: The Realm of Stephen Mark Rainey: The Monarchs.

Give it a look, that you may shake, rattle, and moan to your heart's utter delight.

That is all.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Another Mini-Milestone

Lord have mercy, a terrible coffee accident!

I'm pretty sure today was the first time I've ever considered turning on the air conditioning in my house in January, since the temperature upstairs was pushing 80 degrees this afternoon. Outside, it was in the mid 70s, which is kind of obscene for this time of year, but at least it made for some good geocaching weather. Yesterday, I was up and out before the crack of dawn, bound for Martinsville and Eden, where several new caches had been published. The ones in Martinsville — four entertaining "mystery" caches, which required solving puzzles in advance to obtain the coordinates for the hide — put me on the Dick & Willie Rail Trail, formerly the Danville & Western rail line; the hikes weren't terribly long, but most enjoyable in the early morning mist. From there, it was off to Freedom Park in Eden to snag a couple of more new hides.

Last night, Ms. Kimberly and I caught The Hobbit in 3D and iMax, which was visually impressive and generally entertaining, if not quite spot-on in the direction department. Following, we hit Singha II in High Point for some decent Thai food, then The Vino Shoppe, just down the road from there, for a wee spot of wine. A few episodes of Twin Peaks, which we've been watching from the beginning, wrapped up the evening.

Today, it was out on the caching trail again with Debbie "Cupdaisy" Shoffner — mostly park-n-grab caches in Rockingham County. We busted the cache owner, Mr DanRiverRunner (a.k.a. CountryBicycleRider), planting a few caches, and thus located one of his new hides before it was published. It came out tonight, actually, and is appropriately named "Busted." We got first-to-find, and it turned out to be my "mini-milestone" 5,500th cache find. All kinds of fun, wot? The day was spoiled only by Cupdaisy very rudely hitting the accelerator while I was taking a big old slug of coffee, sending a fair quantity of it out of the cup, as evidenced in the photo above. I'm a forgiving soul, of course, so I'll only hold it against her for the rest of my natural life and half of the next.

That is all.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

First to Find

King of the hill. Er... rock.

First to find new geocaches, that is. Last night, late, I got notification of a new cache not far down the road, so after Kimberly and I wound up a most enjoyable evening — dinner at The Claddagh in High Point and then some episodes of Twin Peaks — I decided to head out after it. Just a park-and-grab hide, but no one else had logged it, so it was a fun little first-to-find at 1:20 in the AM. I was reminded by some that this is an utterly indecent hour, but hey... it's a cache. It's all about the fun.

Another enjoyable full-day outing today, with Bridget "Suntigres" Langley and her friend Dan, who's trying out caching for the first time. Snagged 29, if my math is correct, including another FTF and a fair number of creative hides, including a match container inside a hole in a telephone pole covered by a magnet-backed metal strip; a stick hanging from a tree (yep); a metal plate concealing a bison tube in the ground; and a bison tube hanging inside some evergreens that required some seriously prickly crawling to reach. Most fun of all, I got to climb stone pylons, boulders, and park signs. We ended it all by meeting Kimberly at Bill's Pizza Pub on Randleman Road for a big old pizza feast.

The weekend was far more enjoyable than the week to come, I fear. Son of beech.

That is all.
Yessir, dude up on sign. Nice view from here!
L: The old Cedar Falls Post Office; R: Bridget holding some wood

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Ranking 007

I rarely give more than half a hoot about "best of so-and-so" lists since they mean exactly jack shit, but now and again — depending on my mood, I suppose — I derive a little enjoyment from them, particularly when the subject matter is near and dear to me aging ticker. This morning, I came upon a best-to-worst list of James Bond movies, and while there were some entries with which I quite agreed, I mostly thought the thing pretty well out of whack. That's the beauty of lists, though; you can jump up and down in delighted agreement, swear the creators ought to be flayed for their audacious stupidity, or just avert your eyes because the whole idea is ridiculous. Said list this morning kind of made me want to compile one of my own. So... what the hell. Since the screen's Bond is 50 years old, Skyfall has surpassed the billion-dollar mark in ticket sales, and I've been on a bit of a Bond kick myself lately, for my first blog of 2013, I'm going to make me a list — not necessarily of my favorite and least favorite EON Productions' Bond films, but what I consider the best and worst of the series, starting at the bottom and working toward the top. Like most, I suppose, the list's middle entries are the most difficult to settle upon; the very best and very worst are easy. Your reaction may be one of the above or something altogether different, and that's just fine because, yes, I am gonna make me this list. And thus, with no further ado...

Damned Rodan's List of Damned Bond Films (Worst to Best): 

#23: Die Another Day
Pierce Brosnan's last outing as 007... easily his worst, and the series' absolute rock-bottom entry. It opens with some promise, despite Madonna's hideous theme song (second only to Jack White and Alicia Keys' song for Quantum of Solace for pure awfulness), but quickly devolves into second-rate science-fiction, loaded to the gills with poor CGI, and featuring the most idiotic of all 007's technological accouterments — an "invisible" Aston Martin.

#22: Moonraker
One of the most glaring examples ever of fabulous special effects going to waste on a stupid movie. And stupid it is — Roger Moore at his most fatuous, a plot recycled from The Spy Who Loved Me recycled from You Only Live Twice (all directed by Lewis Gilbert; a pattern, perhaps?), another cookie-cutter megalomaniacal villain in Hugo Drax (though played with some panache by Michael Lonsdale), and the nadir of the series' plunge into sophomoric humor. John Barry's lush musical score, including the title song, sung by Shirley Bassey (her third and final Bond theme), tries hard to bring some gravitas to the proceedings; mais alas.

#21: The Man With the Golden Gun
Roger Moore as the lost Stooge. While Live and Let Die injected more comedy — mostly vapid — into the series than ever before, The Man With the Golden Gun plunges right into slapstick. Roger Moore is only slightly less wooden than in the previous entry, and even a dignified performance by Christopher Lee as the notorious hit man Scaramanga does little to make this almost-not-a-Bond-film palatable. John Barry's score is, as usual, high-grade, though the title song, with its inane lyrics and vocals by Lulu, who sounds like a chipmunk on helium, induces groans and uncomfortable chuckles. Not what you really want in a Bond theme song.

#20: A View to a Kill
Like so many of Roger Moore's outings, this film opens with promise — at least until the chorus of The Beach Boys' "California Girls" interrupts an otherwise reasonably engaging ski chase. Moore again at his witless worst, Christopher Walken and Patrick Macnee pretty much wasted, and Tanya Roberts as one of the least animated Bond girls ever to hit celluloid. Oh, and what's this? Yet more juvenile humor? Big sigh. Duran Duran's title song is high-octane stuff, though Maurice Binder's title sequence is the most gaudy, unappealing ever.

#19: Octopussy
There's actually a lot to like about Octopussy — particularly Louis Jourdan as the suave but treacherous Kamal Khan — but an equal or greater measure to loathe. It's one of Moore's better performances as Bond, but the constant, inappropriate insertion of juvenile humor spoils one potentially exciting scene after another. Maud Adams plays the intriguing character of Octopussy with far more aplomb than she did Scaramanga's girlfriend, Andrea, in The Man With the Golden Gun. A good John Barry score overall, but the title song, "All-Time High," moaned by Rita Coolidge, is one of the series' dullest.

#18: Live and Let Die
I actually enjoy Live and Let Die more than my ranking might indicate, but objectively, I have to place it pretty far down the list for Moore's sincere but awkward attempt at taking on the role for the first time and the film's frequent lapses into ill-timed comedy. Yaphet Kotto as Mr. Big/Dr. Kananga has his moments, though, in its time, the film moving into blaxploitation territory seemed a bit of a shock. The title song by Paul McCartney & Wings proved to be one of the series' most memorable, and the score by "fifth Beetle" George Martin, while a bit dated, stands out as one of the best non-John Barry efforts.

#18: The World Is Not Enough
Neither a terrible nor superlative entry in the series, The World Is Not Enough (the Bond family motto) offers a few decent plot elements, an engaging female villain (Elektra King, played by Sophie Marceau), and Pierce Brosnan comfortable and confident in the Bond role. It also features the rather dull antagonist Reynard (Robert Carlyle), who is unable to feel pain because of a bullet lodged in his brain, and Denise Richards as nuclear physicist Christmas Jones. Say no more. An unremarkable score by David Arnold, though the title song, performed by Garbage, is agreeably, thoroughly Bond-ish.

#16: Tomorrow Never Dies
Probably Pierce Brosnan's best performance as Bond. Media mogul Elliott Carver (Jonathan Pryce) looks to start World War III so his news network can get the big scoop. This improbable scenario at least offers a number of exciting moments, with some daring stunt work. The very appealing Michele Yeoh appears as Chinese agent and Bond ally Wai Lin. David Arnold's score offers a few distinctive moments. The title song by Sheryl Crow is nothing to write home about, though K. D. Lang belts out a much more Bond-like — and far more satisfying — tune ("Surrender") over the end credits.

#15: You Only Live Twice
Most reviewers and fans rate Sean Connery's fifth outing as James Bond much higher, but I can't get past the film's excessive inanities, plot holes, and visual gaffes. While there's a lot to like about Roald Dahl's screenplay, director Lewis Gilbert mucks up detail after detail — not unlike in his later directorial efforts. Donald Pleasance exudes cartoon menace as the quintessential Bond villain, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, but his diminutive stature is quite at odds with Fleming's imposing literary character. Connery sleepwalks through the production, clearly tired of the role that for many years defined him as an actor. A pleasant John Barry score and melodic theme song sung by Nancy Sinatra.

#14: Goldeneye
Pierce Brosnan's first outing as Bond is among his better ones. He plays the character with some of the same darkness that Timothy Dalton brought to the role but appears far more comfortable handling the necessary humor. Sean Bean, despite his considerable talent as an actor, seems oddly lifeless as MI6-agent-turned-villain Alec Trevelyan. Izabella Scorupco, as Russian weapons system expert Natalya Simonova, and Famke Janssen, as Russian assassin Xenia Onatopp, both play refreshingly strong female characters. Tina Turner provides the vocals for a striking theme song, though the score by Eric Serra, while oftentimes atmospheric, is too low-key to get very excited about.

#13: The Spy Who Loved Me
A much more straightforward, oftentimes exciting Bond adventure than many from the Moore era, The Spy Who Loved Me still lapses into horrid humor too frequently to be wholly palatable. Roger Moore does turn in one of his better performances, though not without several cringe-inducing moments. Barbara Bach isn't bad as Russian spy Anya Amasova; her acting is competent at best, but the character makes for a stronger than customary female lead for this era of Bond movies. Marvin Hamlisch provides a mostly lackluster, sometimes irritating score, and Carly Simon performs the reasonably agreeable title song, "Nobody Does It Better."

#12: Quantum of Solace
This film, Daniel Craig's second as Bond, takes up where Casino Royale left off, and while Craig hones his skills as 007, the movie never comes near the level of excellence achieved by its predecessor. Its best moments are all Craig's, especially during his more emotionally charged scenes, such as the death of Inspector Mathis (Giancarlo Giannini). Villain Dominic Greene isn't terribly exciting, though Mathieu Amalric plays the part with enough bile to raise a little shudder or two. David Arnold turns in one of his better scores, though the title song by Jack White and Alicia Keys is the most repulsive piece of shit ever to play over the title credits.

#11: The Living Daylights
Timothy Dalton brings some much needed Fleming to the character of James Bond. After Roger Moore's tenure, which ran a bit past its prime, the series certainly needed some reshaping. Dalton did capture the darker essence of Bond but appeared worse than uncomfortable with the moments of levity required of the screen character. The plot is among the series' most dated, in which Afghani mujahideen team up with Bond to foil a plot by mad mercenary Brad Whittaker (Joe Don Baker) and rogue KGB agent Georgi Koskov (Jeroen Krabbe) to profit from illicit arms and drug deals. John Barry's score shines, with electronic augmentation to his traditional orchestrations, and while A-ha's effective title song mimics the style of Duran Duran's A View to a Kill, it never achieved nearly as much commercial success.

#10: Licence to Kill
Dalton's second Bond film is the better of the two, though it often feels more like Die Hard-noir than a typical Bond film. The film's dark, serious tone, featuring the drawn-from-life villain Franz Sanchez (Robert Davi) foreshadows the style of the Daniel Craig entries in the franchise. Timothy Dalton seems far more comfortable as Bond, and Carey Lowell as CIA field agent Pam Bouvier capably handles both levity and substance. Gladys Knight provides vocals for the excellent title song, which echoes strains of Goldfinger, but "lackluster" is too kind a term for Michael Kamen's deadly dull musical score.

#9: For Your Eyes Only
Easily Roger Moore's best performance as Bond and the best film to be made during his tenure. There's actually some Fleming to be found in the screenplay, which, during the Moore era, was a rarity indeed. Mostly eschewing juvenile humor and far-fetched plots, the story harkens back to the style of From Russia With Love and On Her Majesty's Secret Service, though it still falls short of these particular landmark films. Sadly, a well-staged opening finishes with one of the series' single stupidest moments; in fact, it's so bad, getting past it to appreciate the rest of the film is actually an effort. Carole Bouquet as vengeance-driven Melina Havelock has some good moments, though, on the whole, she isn't one of the series most outstanding Bond girls. And another negative in the midst of so much positive: Lynn Holly Johnson as young nymphomaniac Bibi Dahl, a character so pointless that every scene with her could have been excised without impacting the film. Bill Conti offers a mostly unremarkable score, though a few of the tracks provide effective atmosphere. Sheena Easton sings the romantic title song to Maurice Binder's best title sequence since the 1960s Bond films.

#8: Diamonds Are Forever
Sean Connery's final appearance as 007 (until Irvin Kershner's Never Say Never Again in 1983) is actually one of my personal favorites — it was the first Bond film I ever saw — though in good conscience I can't rank it higher here. While the movie draws inspiration from some of the earlier, better Connery films, its lapses into zaniness uncomfortably foreshadow the tone of the Roger Moore Bonds. Charles Gray plays Ernst Stavro Blofeld with more charm and humor than either Pleasance or Savalas — which can be jarring, given Fleming's original description of Blofeld as an imposing, Mussolini-like figure — but his sharp lines and personal charisma make the character memorable. Jill St. John as Tiffany Case may come off as a bit dizzy, yet she possesses enough wit and will to present Bond with a somewhat challenging female lead. Jimmy Dean, as reclusive millionaire Willard Whyte, provides some of the series' best comedic moments, and Connery's one-liners are sharper than ever. Bruce Glover and Putter Smith as gay assassins Mr. Wint and Mr. Kidd, respectively, each bring an engaging quirkiness to their characters, mostly bouncing amusing one-liners off each other. John Barry composes one of the franchise's best musical scores, including the title song, sung by Shirley Bassey.

#7: Doctor No
The very first Bond film isn't the best of them — it seems at times outright amateurish — but it's reasonably true to the novel and sets up a respectable tone for the films that follow immediately. Connery stands out as the consummate Bond, and while he isn't exactly Fleming's Bond, he absolutely nails most of the qualities that distinguished the literary character. As the title villain, Joseph Wiseman is perfectly cast; again, a departure from his literary counterpart, but every bit as imposing, if not more so.

#6: Skyfall
The most recent Bond film showcases Daniel Craig's talents to an even greater degree than the previous two. Also, the character of M (Judi Dench) gets more than customary screen time and development. Javier Bardem as Raoul Silva, a former MI6 agent seeking revenge for having been abandoned on a deadly mission, in some ways mirrors Sean Bean's Alex Trevelyan in Goldeneye, though he is a much more engaging antagonist. The stunt work may be a little more over the top than in Casino Royale, but it's also better staged than the too-frenetic action of Quantum of Solace. Like many of David Arnold's scores, Thomas Newman's lacks distinctiveness and cohesiveness, but the title song by Adele is appealing.

#5: Thunderball
By 1965, Connery had Bond down to a tee, and the films' formula had become engraved in the film-going public's mind. Thunderball hits mostly high notes, though some of the gadgets were now becoming pretty far-fetched, the witty rejoinders timed like clockwork. Chief villain Emilio Largo (Adolfo Celi) possesses an imposing stature, much like Auric Goldfinger before him, and his Roman features convey quiet menace with just the slightest scowl. The climactic underwater fight proves quite the spectacle to behold. John Barry's score creates a somber, aquatic atmosphere, and the main theme, brilliantly sung by Tom Jones, accompanies a superb Maurice Binder title sequence.

#4: Casino Royale
A landmark film in many ways, Casino Royale re-invents James Bond, going back to his roots as an agent of MI6. Continuity in the Bond universe has never been much of a consideration, and it's easy enough to accept this contemporary rebooting. Craig creates a Bond clearly drawn from Fleming's original, though he is quieter, more introverted, and more darkly dangerous — very different from any other actor's portrayal of the character. Mads Mikkelsen plays the desperate villain Le Chiffre with just the right blend of humor and subtle malevolence. Eva Greene as Vesper Lynd possesses the ideal combination of vulnerability and coolness. David Arnold's score distinguishes itself a bit more than usual, and Chris Cornell's rousing title song, "You Know My Name" — the lyrics of which overtly reflect M's point of view — sets the perfect mood for the film.

#3: From Russia With Love
Sean Connery's second appearance as Bond and easily his second best. For the most part, the movie faithfully follows the novel, with some well-conceived alterations. It stands as the best honest-to-god spy thriller of the entire series, with atmosphere reminiscent of a Hitchcock mystery. Lotte Lenya as the brutal Russian SMERSH-turned-SPECTRE agent couldn't be more brilliantly repulsive, and Robert Shaw as the assassin Red Grant is very likely the most believable and dangerous of all the bad guys ever to menace James Bond. John Barry's score complements the action wonderfully, at least in most instances; a few ill-timed tracks occasionally mar its overall effectiveness.

#2: On Her Majesty's Secret Service
Choosing between OHMSS and Goldfinger as the "best" Bond film is indeed difficult. Both take the cores of the respective novels and in some ways improve on the original stories. OHMSS may be the most visually gorgeous of all the films, with much of the action taking place high in the Swiss Alps. The ski chases truly elevate one's adrenaline levels, particularly in conjunction with John Barry's score — also perhaps the finest of the entire series. The main theme is a rare instrumental and is all the better for it, played to Maurice Binder's most effective title sequence. George Lazenby is far from the best cinematic Bond, but he's an acceptable successor to Connery, particularly when it comes to handling the physical stunts. Had he continued in the role, I suspect audiences would have become quite comfortable with him. Telly Savalas is certainly "different" as Blofeld, but he does make for an effectively sinister antagonist. And Diana Rigg may be the best-drawn female protagonist of the entire series.

#1: Goldfinger
Goldfinger is a near-perfect Bond film, featuring excellent pacing, first-rate acting, gorgeous scenery, memorable women, and one of the sharpest theme songs/title sequences ever conceived for any film. Sean Connery turns in his best performance as Bond; in fact, this is very likely the film in which Connery truly became James Bond for millions of movie-goers. Gert Frobe plays Auric Goldfinger, the madman obsessed with gold, just a bit over-the-top, but with ultimate believability (and while his voice is dubbed, it's so perfect that most viewers don't realize it). The extraordinary Honor Blackman may also have the distinction of playing the most unforgettable Bond girl, if but for her character's name — Pussy Galore. Shirley Eaton is also memorable as Jill Masterson, the girl whose body is painted completely gold. Special props go to Harold Sakata as the iconic Oddjob, Goldfinger's mute Korean manservant, probably best remembered for his steel-rimmed top hat, which he uses to deadly effect. The gadgets are particularly novel this time around but never upstage Bond himself, as they tend to do in later films. A fine score by John Barry rounds out the superlative production.

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Such Misery


I wasn't really planning to go see Les Miserables, but I received an invite to do this thing, so that was that. I've never seen the stage production, and I only read the Classics Illustrated comic adaptation when I was a youngster, so I had no preconceived notions about the story. As for the film, the only real advance knowledge I had came from a featurette I saw a while back about the actors actually singing their parts live rather than being dubbed. Rather than an in-depth review, I'll just offer up a few thoughts, for I did find it a significant, noteworthy cinematic production.

There are a handful of musicals that I really love, most going back to childhood: The Wizard of Oz, of course; The King and I; My Fair Lady; Camelot; South Pacific; even The Sound of Music, to some degree. In more recent years, I've been quite taken with Sweeney Todd and Wicked. In general, though, the musical is not a theatrical form of which I am terribly enamored. Les Mis offers a handful of impressive songs — certainly the numbers are beautifully staged and performed — but by and large, I can't say I found much of the music memorable or otherwise distinctive.

Technically, Tom Hooper's Les Mis is a beautiful film, with loads of CGI that's obvious yet artful; it blends rather than intrudes.The stylized sets, virtually to the last, feel dank and claustrophobic; certainly apt, given the setting. Thankfully, there are at least a few grand, panoramic shots strategically placed amid the scenes to offer some much-needed brightening, particularly after we have been confined to the grim, utterly depressing chambers of the paupers for such extensive portions of the very lengthy running time (157 minutes).

I was quite taken with the cast. Jackman is reliably excellent, and here, as former convict-turned-respected-mayor Jean Valjean, he turns in a superlative dramatic performance, with singing far beyond mere competence. I must say, Anne Hathaway surprised me with her masterful, emotive performance as Fantine; I've always given her credit as an actress, and this sewed it up for me. By the conclusion of "I Dreamed a Dream," I was in tears — one of two or three such occasions in the film. Now, whatever his personal lack of charm, I admire Russell Crowe as an actor; in fact, I can scarcely think of a performance in which he hasn't excelled. He does everything right in Les Mis except sing. He clearly gives it his best, but an operatic talent he is not. Still, I can't fault him but so much, for though he may not shine as a vocalist, he pays the character of Inspector Javert his absolute due. Helena Bonham Carter as Mme. Thénardier, the Innkeeper's wife.... well, she basically reprises her performance as Mrs. Lovett from Sweeney Todd. Certainly not a bad bit of casting for this character. And speaking of the Innkeeper... M. Thénardier... comic virtuoso Sacha Baron Cohen chews up the scenery — not to mention rotting meat, artificial appendages, cat tails, and bugs. If ever a production needed some comic livening, this is the one, and Cohen offers it up in spades. Amanda Seyfried as Cosette mostly wanders doe-eyed through the film, simply because that's the character's ordained fate, but in a couple of songs she does emote effectively.

I found the prevalence of Cockney accents in 19th-century France most disconcerting. Scarcely a trace of authentic French, or even French accent, to be heard. I can understand the actors eschewing what might play as mere affectation, but more neutral vocalizing might at least dull the shock of it, particularly in the case of the lad Gavroche, played by young Daniel Huttlestone, who might as well have come off the streets of Whitechapel in My Fair Lady.

I quite concur with many of the accolades bestowed upon director Tom Hooper for his work on this big, oftentimes impressive piece of theater. In numerous ways, it's a brilliant achievement. Yet, while individual moments of this film moved me as much as any film can, on the whole, I felt strangely unaffected, particularly during the second half the movie, when the young revolutionaries begin their plotting and the love story between Cosette and Marius — played at least competently by Eddie Redmayne — takes center stage. After the first hour and a half, I was really beginning to wonder whether my posterior would quite hold out till the end of the film. For all its virtues, Les Mis just doesn't call me to even attempt to watch it again. I suppose I might welcome an opportunity to check out the original stage production, but I would probably want some wine first.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Bloodrock

One of the most enjoyable activities to come with this Christmas season was participating in the Dirty Santa Geocaching event at The Corner Cafe in Ringgold, Virginia, a couple of weeks back. I happened to end up with a bunch of creative cache containers that are just begging to be placed out in the wild, so today I up and hid a couple along a new trail by Lake Townsend, just north of Greensboro. "Bloodrock" (GC43DEB, so named for a bright crimson mineral crystal I found out there), and "What's the Matter? Chicken?" (GC43DF0, a lock-n-lock box full of rubber chicken keychains, hidden in some slightly challenging terrain) now await some intrepid geocachers to venture out after them. Note: these caches are for premium members only, so if you're not one, those links will only take you to the main page at geocaching.com, not the actual cache listings. If you're a cacher and not a premium member, then by gummy you need to be. Go, go, go!