I decided to watch the 1978 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers Friday night and it didn't disappoint. The film was rated PG, but contained nudity of both sexes (I guess you have to take the good with the bad) and frights galore. The box of the VHS tape I obtained from my local library stated that "...the film ends with the single most horrifying frame in movies." While that's extremely debatable, the final scene still scared the piss outta me. Why, you may ask? Well, the reason might be the dorkiest reason in history. I won't give away the context of the scene, but I recognized it as the avatar (if you don't know what that is don't ask) of a prominent member of a prominent message board. Here it is:
So at 5:30am, the movie ends with that image and the credits roll with no music (nice touch I might add). Then, outta the f'n blue, comes a preview for Poltergeist. The screen shows snow, the girl puts her hands on it, and I grab the remote with the quickness and turn the TV off. Now THAT was something I wasn't ready for. That's not the last thing I wanted to see before I fell asleep.
Saturday was spent at Now That's Class for the Hollywood Blondes show and the Happy Dog for Joe Jack Talcum (of Dead Milkmen fame). A good time was had by all. I was actually quite impressed with Talcum. I'm never going to be called the biggest Dead Milkmen fan alive, but I like their stuff. I've also always been a fan of solo acoustic stuff if it's done right, and that's what the deal was.
Sunday was mostly spent recovering from Saturday. I finally got to watch the Great American Bash 1990 though, but there's no review. I just didn't feel like taking notes & writing one, and I'm not gonna get paid if I do it or not, so F it. It was one hell of a show, though, top to bottom. It was awesome to see Big Van Vader in his North American debut absolutely destroy the Z-Man. Every title meant something then, even the United States Tag Team belts. That match, between champions the Midnight Express and the Southern Boys is regarded as one of the best matches of the 90's. It was surreal not only hearing the fans loudly chant "faggot" at the Fabulous Freebirds in their match with the Steiner Brothers, but have the camera show close-up shots of said fans! Times sure have changed. And, of course, the main event. Ric Flair defending his World Heavyweight Championship against Sting. I've wanted to see this match for 15 years (not an understatement) and it was worth the wait. Not a bad way to spend two hours on a Sunday night.
Monday was spent at work, at Jalapeno Loco with buddy Noah and a mariachi band, and at the Agora with the Black Keys and a lot of people that didn't have to pay for their tickets. Show was great, no camera policy not so much. So, no pics. I'm not much of a fan of opening act the Walkmen, but they were alright. Their singer seemed to imitate Robert Pollard, and not in a good way. Meaning, he copped his poses but not his attitude. It was at some point at the show that I got a text message concerning an incident that's on every news channel as I type this (and I'm not talking about Paris Hilton).
I spent the entire day yesterday and a good portion of the day today gathering every detail possible about the Benoit family tragedy, and, as I type this, I'm just now starting to lose the sick feeling I've had since Monday night. I didn't watch Monday's tribute show live, but I did view it on Tuesday. I most likely will never watch it again. Nor will I have the desire to see another Chris Benoit match in the near future, or maybe ever. And, as of now, I don't really feel like watching pro wrestling at all for a good while, or ever. I don't think I'll give up on it completely, but we'll see. That's really not important in the least in the long run, obviously. My viewing habits aren't going to bring his wife and son back. That's enough for now.
Until Then,
Later.
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