And I'm lostBehindWords I'll never findAnd I'm leftBehindAs seasons roll on by

Oh, you handsome devil.



I have seen a few movies recently. OK, that's a lie. All I do is watch movies. 30 channels of HBO, Cinemax and Encore, plus the 3 dvd Netflix subscription (thanks, mom!) has obviated the need for regular television shows.

I can't even tell you who is in the Final Four, which is alarming, because for the second year in a row, I have made a wager involving the highest stakes of all:

Pork Products.

Last year, it was a pound of bacon that was the grand prize.

This year, we kicked it up a notch.

Oh yeah.

A rack of ribs is on the line.

But I digress. Pork can derail the thought process of any red-blooded man.

Where was I?

Ah yes, movies.

Jimmy and I went to see V is for Vendetta.

We both thought it was a good movie. I was hoping for "great," since 7 years ago, the Wachowski Brothers pretty much blew my mind with the first Matrix, and, in the process, absolutely flipped the bird at George Lucas, releasing it at nearly the same time as his weak-ass Phantom Menace.

Nevertheless... V was pretty cool, but it was no Matrix. The good news is that it was no Matrix: Revolutions, either. It was set in the future in England, run by a dictator and his hegemony of nefarious cronies who spy and eavesdrop on the citizens, repress civil rights and individual expression that was vaguely reminscent of... hmmm... slips my mind at the present.

Then along comes the man in the Guy Fawkes mask, V. He is an anarchist bent on bringing the ruling hegemony to his knees. Natalie Portman gets involuntarily dragged into his revolution.

The backstory that created V gets dribbled out to you throughout the movie, and, well, ¡Viva La Revolucion!

I enjoyed it. So did Jimmy. I give it a solid A-. Natalie Portman rules, but you already knew that.

We also saw History of Violence on DVD. It was interesting and different from the usual formulaic fare. The actors are all excellent- Viggo Mortensen, Maria Bello and William Hurt- and they really make the movie work. With lesser actors, this movie could have sucked... but it didn't. I am not going to break down the plot, because this is already shaping up to be a marathon post. I give it a B.

Speaking of excellent actors carrying movies that would otherwise be mediocre, nobody, but nobody, beats Denzel Washington in this respect. Word. The guy is that good.

We also saw Cinderella Man, which is a really, really good movie. Russell Crowe is another one of those actors, whether you like him or not, who has the skillz to pay the billz. And this movie didn't need carrying. It is the true story of James Braddock, who was a boxer during the Great Depression. He had some success in the late 20's, but his career took a downturn and he and his family really hit bottom during the Depression. With nothing left to lose, he mounts a comeback that is inspirational to thousands. Sounds kind of cheeseball, but trust me, it isn't. And don't worry, Renee Zellwegger doesn't grate on your nerves too badly. Awesome movie. I give it an A. Rent it. You will not regret it.

===

Ah, I am experiencing major melancholia. I am sad that winter is drawing to a close. I can say without reservation that this has been the best winter of my 36 years.

I am going back to the Dam tomorrow for almost a week. When I come back, the lifts will be running for another week. (This is an economical decision, not a snow decision. There is a shitload of snow in the mountains and more on the way tonight. Powder day tomorrow... but not for me.) When I return from Wisconsin, I enjoy my final lift-served turns of the season.

Once the lifts close, I will be doing some backcountry snowboarding, which involves hours of hiking for one run. It's called "earning your turns."

Nevertheless, it makes me a little sad.

In other turn-of-the-season news, I broke my Nordic Trak Monday. The weld broke at the top, and now the arm pulleys are useless. Late last fall, I stopped running and started doing the nordic trak inside instead.

So, yesterday I hit the road running again. It is strange how your muscles acclimate to new activities. I ran a ton last summer and fall- about 30 miles a week- and it is as if I had never run before. I am sore in strange places, and my pace was very slow.

Oh well, a new challenge.

And for those long-time readers who remember me dodging the dive-bombing harrier hawks, I did not see any on my run. It appears that a bigger, badder breed of raptor is inhabiting our neighborhood- bald eagles. They are hunting succulent little ground squirrels. I saw one on my run yesterday.

So, maybe spring isn't so bad.



I wonder how that kid will turn out. I hope she turns out OK. But with Courtney Love as your mother, and addiction, depression and craziness emdbedded in your genetic coding, it seems the cards are stacked against you.

Damn.

I wish he had stayed alive and continued recording music. I really do.

Godspeed, Frances Bean. I'm rooting for you.